One of my all-time favorite quotes is this gem from Mark Twain:

“Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.” –Mark Twain

I think about this quote often and I try to surround myself with people who are supportive and people who know that there’s enough success and joy and happiness to go around for all of us. This week, I was thinking about this quote in a different context, too. Not for ambitions, but for choices. After I moved to the United States, I met many people who started criticizing and belittling my taste. My choice of music, books, movies, etc. (I don’t think this is related to being in the US, just happened to coincide with that time in my life.)

I’m going to specifically talk about books because that’s nearest and dearest to my heart. You can say many things about me but there’s no question that I am well-read. I’ve read most of the classics as well as most of the award-winning books. I can read literature without worrying and I even enjoy it. I’ve read lots of Shakespeare or whomever else you might consider “high literature.” And yet I loved reading Twilight or Eat, Pray, Love or whatever other books someone else might consider “trashy.”

Before some of you object, the only reason Eat, Pray, Love (which I absolutely loved, by the way) is on that list is because I was sitting at my book-club meeting two months ago and one woman said, “Did anyone like that book anyway?” I almost fell off my chair. It never ceases to amaze me how completely high and mighty some people can be. I replied “I loved it and so did millions of others since her book was a major bestseller.” And it instantly made me mad. I remember when I was living in New York and there was a huge Harry Potter craze (this was when the second book was about to come out.) and people were criticizing how her book was terribly written blah blah blah. I kept thinking, here’s a book that has kids waiting in line at a book store at midnight. it’s a book. not a video game. what more could you possibly want?

When people said things like that in the past, it would just make me feel small. I must be not as “polished” if I liked the music that was too common or the books everyone read and judged as non-literary. But in the last few years, my attitude has been changing and now I keep thinking, these people can go you know where. I don’t need people like this in my life. I don’t need people judging the way I spend my leisure time. Telling me what things are supposed to give me joy.

What do they know? What makes them a better judge? Honestly, most people just worry about looking good and they feel like if they put you down, you will be too embarrassed and not expose them for who they really are. I don’t need any such people in my life. I don’t need others to validate my taste in things. My ability to judge what gives me joy.

So while these people aren’t belittling my ambitions, they’re belittling me and making me feel small. And I say it’s cleaning time. Time to put these people out with the trash. And get some “really great” people in my life. Those who support and love me just the way I am. And it’s also time for me to look at the people who are supportive in my life and appreciate me the way I am and show some gratitude. Those great people are rare and deserve a lot of appreciation.

I spent a while thinking about expectations today. I’ve noticed lately that happiness and gratitude are very strongly related to expectations. If something you didn’t expect (but is good) happens, you’re thrilled beyond belief and feel a strong sense of gratitude. And yet if you’re anticipating it, the same event feels deserved and comes with a sense of entitlement. However small.

So when something exceeds expectations, that’s when we feel glee and gratitude. And when something fails to meet what we hoped or even if it just meets our hopes, we tend to feel let down. What does this mean about gratitude?

The first instinct might be to think it’s best to lower expectations. After all, the lower they are, the easier it is to exceed them, right? The more I think about this, the more I feel that’s not the right path. I think the trick is to find gratitude even in those situations. I’m all about focusing in the now and trying to have realistic expectations, etc. But at the end of the day, each of us will be disappointed at some point in our lives and the trick is knowing what to do then.

What happened to me today was relatively small. I was frustrated for a while because something that I expected turned out completely different than my vision. I whined and pouted for a while. Then I gave myself a good mental slap. It was my fault for having baseless expectations and what happened instead was still amazing and wonderful and I had much to be thankful for. So instead of changing them, I threw my expectations out the window and told myself to take a good look at what was right in front of me. What I did have.

And, honestly, I had much to be grateful for right there.

I just had to look at it with my bare eyes and not through the colorful lenses of my expectations.

So next time this happens to you, I hope you take a moment to step back and pay attention to how your expectations might be blurring your vision of the situation and how you might actually have a lot to be thankful for right in front of you.

I wasn’t sure of what to write for today. Sometimes I have ideas ahead of time, sometimes I write about something that just happened and other times I stare at the screen for a while and then I remember how tired I am and all the other items on my list for today and I start to doze off.

Today was one of those days.

Until I saw a tweet by Karen Maezen Miller which pointed to this post by Lindsey which then made me realize what today’s post was going to be about.

Attention.

Lindsey writes, “What we pay attention to flourishes. Attention is love. It is, after all, the only true thing of value we have.”

Isn’t that true? As she goes on to say attention is time and how we spend our time is how we spend our days (and life, of course.) But the part that I focused on isn’t only that what we pay attention becomes our life, but also that what we give attention to flourishes. There are obvious things like plants, cooking, etc. where you can see the actual “flourished” outcome of attention. And then there are the things that take a lot of time to flourish so each bit of attention moves us a little forward and the regular progress is harder to see. For example, art, music or even math. Things that take a long time and a lot of practice. But what is practice? a recurring attention.

And then there are those things that we pour attention to and we might never see the outcome. Or we might never prove that our attention is directly related to that outcome. Things like friendships, relationships, children. There is no doubt that each of these things flourish with attention but the direct outcome of attention might be hard to see. But attention is what keeps all relationships going. The more you give, the more you’re rewarded.

Another thing Lindsey said that really stuck with me was “A critical task of our lives is to truly see those we love for who they are, even when that means accepting that there are mysteries inside of them that we will never understand. To release them from the cage of what we so desperately want them to be, so that they may flourish into who they are.” To me, this is the best kind of attention. The kind that doesn’t judge or expect anything in return. The kind that gives. The kind of mother, wife, or friend I try to be. Imagine if you had a friend who gave you the gift of truly seeing and truly accepting you. Wouldn’t that be the most amazing gift you ever received?

So, I hope that each of you spend a little more time today seeing where you’re spending your attention. And who you could see and love without judgement. And remember that attention is love. Thank you Karen and Lindsey for reminding me of that today. I needed to hear it again.

Today, during a chat with a really good friend, I started thinking about my wedding day. Here’s an occasion where we spend so much time trying to get it “just right.” Making sure the i’s are dotted and the t’s are crossed. The dress, flowers, food, guest list, thank you gifts. There are so many details and we spend hours working on them.

It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity after all. (If you’re really lucky.)

The thing is, when I think about my wedding day, here are three details I remember:

1. We got married under a chuppah which is a Jewish wedding canopy. It has four poles. They were held up by Jake’s two brothers, his cousin and my brother in law. In the middle of our ceremony, each of them was scheduled to say a few words explaining the significance of the chuppah. When it was Jake’s middle brother’s turn, he forgot his lines. He was in the middle of a sentence and then he stopped. A few seconds later (just as I whispered, it’s ok.) he went on as if I never forgot them in the first place.

2. As the rabbi talked, Jake’s youngest brother, who was standing to my left, sniffed so loudly that I couldn’t hear the rabbi. He did it several times and I was getting annoyed. When I finally looked over at him, I realized he was crying. A lot.

3. Before we walked down the aisle, my sister’s 3-year-old twin boys walked down and one of them was holding a basket of petals that he was supposed to scatter along the path. When he got to the beginning, my sister said, “Ok now” and he turned the whole basket upside down, dumping all the petals in that one spot.

Here’s what these three events have in common: they were all mess-ups, they all made me (and others) laugh, and as I look back, they are the events I remember most fondly. They can still put a smile on my face eight years later.

If my wedding day is supposed to be so special, so perfect, why is it that what I remember most tenderly are the imperfect moments?

It’s because life is imperfect. It’s messy. It’s about forgetting your lines, sniffing loudly because your tears of joy (or sorrow) are so overwhelming, and doing things out of cue, messing them up. Life’s not perfect. It’s not all roses and white dresses. And when we work so hard to create the “perfect” environment, it’s like everyone’s holding their breath, trying too hard. And then someone makes a mistake and we can all breathe a collective sigh of relief. We don’t have to act perfectly any more. Real life has seeped into the moment. It’s there to remind us that nothing is perfect. Moments of imperfection are just signs of life. Signs of being real.

I hope you take a moment to remember your moments of imperfection today. And remember that next time you try to create the perfect meal, house, art, job, children, event, or life. Remember that what makes them that much more wonderful is the little moments of imperfection and be grateful for them.

Thanks to my little boy, I woke up at 4:15am this morning.

I spent the whole day in a daze and exhausted. This also meant that I was much crankier than usual. As I am sure it’s true for others, too, I tend to be quite negative when I am cranky. A few hours into my day, I was already tired, whiny, and angry. And I still had quite a few important to-do items on my list.

Mid-morning, my older son called me from school to say that he’d lost his backpack and, with it, his lunch. I could tell he sounded really sad. I told him I’d be right there with another lunch and snack for him. I raced over there. All the way there, I was worried about the bag and its contents. Now we’d have to buy a new bag, lunch box, water bottle, jacket, and book. Not to mention an afternoon trip to Target which I really didn’t want to make.

When I got there, I knocked on the door and gave the teacher his new lunch. And then I looked around and found his bag on one of the hooks one class over. I then knocked again and took the new lunch back and drove back home. On the way back, I was annoyed that I had to make the trip there for nothing and thought about all the time and effort I wasted.

Then I stopped myself.

I obviously needed a good talking to and there was no one else to give it to me so I gave myself a short, snappy lecture. I told myself that for the rest of the day I didn’t get to be cranky. Instead of looking at it negatively, how about turning it around and finding the thing to be grateful about?

For example, I could be grateful that I was home when the school called and grateful that we live close enough to school for me to be able to deliver him another lunch. Grateful that we had some more of the same food he loves. Grateful that I had a spare lunchbox. And on the way back, I could be grateful that I now wouldn’t have to make a trip to Target or spend any more money. Or that David now gets to eat his original lunch. I could even be thankful that I now had tomorrow’s lunch mostly packed.

For the rest of the day, I forced myself to change perspective and turn my negative conversations around. It didn’t make me any less tired but it did make me enjoy my moments more. And considering how precious each moment is, I figured it was the best gift I could give myself on a day like this.

August marked the ten year anniversary of blog.

Ten years.

That’s a little less than a third of my life. Ten years ago, I was single (but dating and living with my now husband). I was living in New York City. I was working at Goldman Sachs. I was a programmer. I worked pretty much nonstop. I was trying to write novels. I had a bird. Since then, so much has happened. I went part time in my job and volunteered in several places. I then quit it got married and did Teach For America. Then we took a 3-month trip where we went to the Caymans and drove across the US. We moved to San Diego. I got a job programming. We had our first son. I started scrapbooking. I started a photography company. I learned to drive. We moved up to the San Francisco Bay Area. I got another job. We bought a house. We had another kid. I changed my job to work from home. My son started school.

During this time, my blog went through many changes. In the beginning I wrote about nothing. Then I wrote longer pieces. Some months I wrote a lot. Other months nothing. For a while, it was a photoblog. And then it became all about my kids. My art. Kids. I went back and forth over the years about whether it should have a focus. Whether I was alienating some of my “readers” by writing about me too much. Or not enough. Putting too much about scrapbooking. Or not enough. Too many photos. You get my point. In the end, I gave up worrying about it.

The greatest thing about my blog is that it’s a testament to the last ten years of my life. So many of my feelings, my thoughts, my ordinary life is in there. I love going back five years and reading about an ordinary day. I love seeing what my life was like then. What I worried about, what I was grateful for. I love having records of my past-self. And I love that as I changed, the blog changed. It holds so many stages of my life. So many of my milestones. When I was a little girl, I wrote diaries for years. But then at 18, I suddenly stopped. And this blog has been a form of diary for me since my mid-twenties. And I am deeply grateful for it.

The reason I stopped worrying about my traffic, my content, my focus is that this blog is primarily for me. I love the visitors, the kind, insightful, encouraging comments. But it’s my way of tracking my life, my thoughts, my emotions. Most importantly my ordinariness. I’ve learned over the years that what seems very ordinary now is absolutely not so years from now. The “ordinary” part of life changes the most with time. I might live in this house ten years from now but the day-to-day life here will be significantly different. And by capturing these moments, I get to cherish them forever. This is the same reason I scrapbook. But blogging is simpler, faster, and easier to backup digitally.

If any of you are struggling with what to put on your blog, what to write about, I hope you find a way to talk about the ordinariness of your life. I promise you it’s anything but ordinary.