Who would take a toddler on a 3+ hour flight with no toys, food or a sippy cup? The woman sitting next to me last night, that's who! But thank goodness for all the experienced mommies on board!
As soon as the young mom and her 15-month-old son sat down next to me, I noticed a small purse but no diaper bag in sight. When our flight was delayed and we sat on the tarmac, she did a great job of entertaining her boy - walking him up and down the aisle, pointing out the window at the airport trucks, showing him pictures of planes in the in-flight brochure. But as soon as we took off at 9pm, she was fresh out of ideas and he was not a happy camper.
I don't know why she didn't bring anything along to keep her little guy entertained, but that's not important. What I do know is that wherever mommies are needed, they report for duty! Rather than rolling their eyes or huffing and puffing, everyone I could see on the plane was very understanding and patient. And when the little guy got fussy and his mom looked helpless, several moms pitched in to keep the toddler busy.
I dug into my bag to find the truck I had bought at the airport for my own son back home. That was a big hit - for a few minutes. We then played a game of pointing out all the butterflies on the book I'd been planning to read. A woman across the aisle found a couple of magazines and catalogs with pictures for the toddler to examine. The woman in front of me played peek-a-boo with him. A wise flight attendant brought a cup with chopped ice, then later a cup of orange juice. Finally, about two and a half hours into the flight, he fell asleep on the seat next to me.
All the mommies breathed a collective sigh of relief, happy that he - and we - could get a bit of rest. I was really proud of everyone for rallying together and finding creative ways to help another mom. I'm willing to bet that if she ever flies again with her little guy, she'll take along a big bag full of toys and other distractions. And, hopefully, if another mom ever needs help, she'll be among the first to step up to the plate.
Have you ever talked to an angel? Princess Martha Louise of Norway says she has - and one of her country's top newspapers wants her to give up her crown because of it. Makes me wonder: would we Americans lose trust or confidence in one of our leaders or national icons for making the same admission? I sure hope not.
The controversy is making international headlines, including a small article in Wednesday's Star Tribune. Apparently, the 35-year-old princess (who is fourth in line to the throne), is involved with a spiritual center that's been dubbed "the angel school" by Norwegian journalists; she has said publicly that she believes she has communicated with angels.
On Monday, a staff editorial printed in the Norwegian newspaper Bergens Tidene said, "The solution is clear and actually not dramatic: Drop the princess title and her place in the line of succession, (and) choose to live life in her own way." Gosh, that would send a great message, especially to her nation's children. A princess is only a good princess if she tows the line, doesn't follow her heart and keeps quiet about her spirituality. Make sure nobody actually knows the real you, kids!
It's not as if Princess Martha Louise has admitted to criminal activity or destructive behavior. In fact, angels represent grace, love, faith - all pretty great things. Now, is there definitive evidence they exist? No. Has anyone proven they talk to angels? Nope. But the same goes for God; would the paper have attacked the Princess if she announced she talks regularly with God? At last check, there's still no scientific evidence that God exists either. But billions still believe in and communicate with a higher power.
I would hope that if an American leader or celebrated icon ever mentions his or her encounters with angels, we will see it as a sign of strong faith and courage - not mental instability. After all, an Associated Press study released late last year shows the vast majority of Americans believe in the presence of angels. We may not talk much about it with each other, but 81% of us think angels are real.
Interestingly, pollsters found that there's no one common definition for an angel. Everyone has a different description, based on their own beliefs and experiences. In a radio interview defending herself this week, the Princess provided a pretty eloquent description of angels. She said, "Some feel them, others see them. Everyone experiences them from their own standpoint. For me, they are beings of light, like a feeling of a powerful presence, a strong sense of love."
That doesn't sound wacky to me. In fact, it sounds wonderful. One of my favorite sayings is: "Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly." I do hope the Princess holds her head high, keeps her tiara on top of it and, when the media frenzy finally fades, has a good long chuckle with her angels.
My days as a coffee shop whore are finally over. Don't worry - it's a self-inflicted term of endearment, given my six-week search for THE ONE at coffee shops across the Twin Cities. Ever since I left corporate America to "work from home," I've been looking for the perfect coffee shop to call my home. I've had meaningless, one-day stands with baristas all over town in search of my new workplace. Was I trying too hard? Was I getting a reputation for my promiscuity? I began losing hope.
My requirements for the coffee house of my dreams didn't seem unreasonable. Free, unlimited WIFI (wireless access). Yummy coffee. Electrical outlets (for the laptop). Friendly staff. Cool tunes. Good energy. Tasty treats (lunch selections a bonus).
The chain shops left me feeling used and abused. At Caribou, you have to get an access code at the counter every hour or your Internet access goes away. What a hassle! And at a Starbucks on Franklin Ave in Mpls, I had to pay $6 for one hour of WIFI! The wireless access is free and clear at Dunn Bros, but I'm not a huge fan of the coffee...or, quite honestly, the too-cool-for-the-room staff members at many locations. (However, I do love the Dunn Bros. on University Ave across from FM107.1's worldwide headquarters)
So, I turned my attention to the independents. Many are great for a quickie, but the WIFI often seemed spotty and I'd frequently lose my connection. Or they were sometimes so empty I actually felt odd being the only patron in the place. Muddy Waters on Lyndale is a great spot - I try to get there once a week, but I'm easily distracted by the fabulous people watching and loud music (which means little work gets done).
I started to re-think search, wondering if I might just be happier at my real home. But then, it happened: my bookkeeper suggested we meet at a little coffee shop in the Bryn Mawr neighborhood. Been to that corner of the world many times, but for whatever reason, I'd never been inside the coffee house. Isn't that the way true love so often finds you, staring you right in the eyes when you're looking elsewhere!? We had our meeting and I was enchanted by the place. But I knew I needed to experience it on my own, to sit there for a few hours alone - a second date, if you will.
So, I went last week and I'm telling you, it was like coming home. The people were so upbeat, the coffee was good, the food was great (they SERVED me a huge homemade tuna sandwich with chips and a pickle - delish!), the WIFI was free, the outlets were accessible, the music was awesome, the decor was funky. Be still my heart! And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, a guy named Tony - obviously a regular there - poked his head in the door and told everyone he'd just turned in a lottery ticket worth $5.4 million! The barista ran around the counter to give him a hug and everybody cheered.
My heart swelled, my cheeks hurt from smiling. I had found my home away from home. It doesn't mean I won't visit others - a girl needs variety, after all. But I've found my home base - where my computer can roam free and I can let the real me just be. Nirvana.
As sick as it may sound, I think we Americans actually crave tragedies like last weeks bridge collapse. Despite the loss and despair they create, I think we all find comfort in the sense of community that emerges during a crisis.
Whenever tragedy strikes, we seek out others – to compare notes, to lend a helping hand, to share our grief. We are inspired by the stories of good Samaritans sacrificing their own safety to save the lives of others. We are motivated to help in a time of need by giving blood, praying for grieving families, donating to the Red Cross. We slow down a little – taking time to chat with co-workers, hugging our kids a little longer, checking in with friends and family. After a tragedy, we become kinder and gentler people, reminded how precious and fleeting this life really is.
In the hours following the bridge collapse, I received voice mails and emails from friends and family in seven states. It lifted my spirits to know those people cared enough to check on my well-being, to tell me that they loved me. But several apologized for not being in touch for so many months, for waiting until a crisis to connect. I completely understood. Had this happened in their hometowns, I would have been making the same apology to them.
It feels good to be connected, to feel part of the larger community, to stop and smell the roses. And yet, within weeks of any tragedy, we tend to slip right back into our old hurried, frenzied lives. We quickly give in to old habits, barely finding time for making a family supper let alone connecting with relatives a few states away. Sometimes we get so busy we forget to feel. Until, that is, tragedy strikes.
From 9/11 to Hurricane Katrina to the 35W bridge collapse, the grief and uncertainty we all experience during a tragedy alters our perspectives and priorities. Its like a free pass to slow down, take stock and reach out – just long enough to recharge our batteries, to revive our hearts. But it is a vicious cycle. Eventually, we will return to our old ways only to start secretly craving deeper, more meaningful connections again.
I want so much to believe that this time will be different, that this sense of community will not be a fleeting fad. I am hoping this time people will deepen and strengthen their friendships and family ties, that people will re-prioritize their daily lives, that kindness will continue to grow by leaps and bounds.
We Minnesotans have a chance to set an amazing example for the rest of the nation. Could we find a way to make strong communities and unconditional kindness permanent priorities? Could we make sure that those who lost their lives so suddenly last week inspire us to live our own lives to the fullest…for the rest of our lives? I think we can do it.
Gandhi once said: BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE WORLD.
So, Minnesota - the world is still watching. Want to change for good? Me, too.
I have a friend who has spent over 25 years working for the same company. Having spent so much of her life there, she has made sure to do what she can to keep learning and growing and feeling fulfilled.
I wonder if “lifers” like her would ever put as much effort into being “dreamers.”After all, studies show we each spend 25 years of our life conked out, fast asleep. That is a ton of time! Sleep is a powerful force in our lives, but most people tend to dismiss it. Many figure those hours we spend asleep are little more than wasted time, just physically necessary for our bodies to recharge. However, dream researchers and interpreters (yes, you can actually get a degree in dream work!) maintain that it is no mistake we spend so much of our lives asleep. They say dreams are a powerful tool for working through problems and receiving important messages about your life. But most people dont know how to use their dreams to their advantage and haven not taken the time to learn.
On a recent Get Real Girls show about the power of sleep and dreams, our Get Real Girl of the Week was Sheila Asato, who received her Masters degree in dream work last year. When her son was young, he was diagnosed with autism. Living in Japan at the time, she spent every waking moment trying to figure out how to help and communicate with him. It was a huge struggle. She told us about her daily trips to the market with him, where he would scream and cry because of the bright lights and other triggers. She was at her wits end – until she started recognizing that solutions were not coming to her in those countless waking hours when she felt so helpless, but rather in her sleeping moments – in her dreams.
She began noticing that in her dreams, her hands turned into tiger paws. She would see the tiger paws doing things that could and would help her son. For instance, she began seeing the tiger paws working in mounds of sand. She didn’t understand what that meant until one day, before going into the market with her son, he started screaming again. Bewildered and exhausted, Sheila sat down on the sidewalk and started crying. Suddenly, her son discovered a pile of sand next to the store and calmed down as he ran the sand through his fingers. He played in the sand for a full hour and when he was done, they went into the store and he was perfectly fine. Sheila realized her dream had been telling her to use sand to comfort her son, so she started filling baggies with sand that he could hold during outings. It worked like magic and it gave her the confidence to start believing the messages and symbols that were coming to her in dreams.
I recently went through a stressful situation and found it kept popping up in my dreams. I thought I would be able to stop thinking about it when I went to sleep, but my mind and spirit obviously had a different idea. I was getting tired of having the stress following me into my sleep! That is, until the night I dreamt about it again and suddenly saw myself in the stressful situation but floating in a bubble, rising higher and higher, away from the negativity on the ground. An overwhelming calm come over me and the situation solved itself. When I woke up, I no longer felt stressed. I really believed my dream had shown me everything would be okay, that I would find a way out of the murkiness.
I think if a dream sticks with you, meaning you remember it throughout the day or even longer, it clearly came to you for a reason. The hard part is figuring out the message. We have to examine our feelings, what’s going on in our life, and the symbolism in our dreams. There are lots of resources out there if you need a little guidance (for starters, check out some of them in our past show notes at the Get Real Girls page). You are going to spend more than two decades of your life dreaming, so you might as well make the most of your time. Sweet dreams!
