Basics | Page 2 of 4

Learning New Limitations

December 22nd, 2022
Mollie T. Cox

My scheduled Sunday post did not appear this week. You may not have noticed, and at times, I didn’t either. What happened?

Although this week’s blog was written months ago, I was too tired to edit it last week. And I am still too tired to edit it, so those words have been rescheduled for December 2023. Stay tuned.

When money used to be our family’s major limitation, my husband and I saved and budgeted so that we not only covered all our needs but also any emergency. As we age, time and energy are our new limitations. I can be more careful of how I spend both, but unlike money, neither can be put in a bank for future withdrawals. And I am constantly learning the extent of these new limitations. They seem to be increasing faster than I can adjust.

So today, I acknowledged that I cannot rebound quickly from overscheduling and a recent emergency. Not only will the blog be postponed but also certain decorations will remain in their boxes and Christmas cards sent after the holidays. And it will be fine.

Did you acknowledge something recently?

Basics

Happily, Ever After

September 25th, 2022
Mollie T. Cox

Once upon a time, I believed in happily ever after—not only in favorite movies and books—but also in my real life. Along the way, I learned that eternity is my only shot at happily ever after.

Others tried to tell me earlier, but I was too idealistic.

One afternoon after class, a favorite professor took me and two other students into his office. He pointed to a wall hanging. My memory of that image is blurry, but his words are still clear.

The road never gets easier. There are only fewer people traveling with you.

Dr. Smith meant our careers, but I learned his words applied to more.

As newlyweds, my husband and I met with our pastor to say goodbye before we moved. After small talk, he said,

There’s only one thing I want to say. Each challenge is preparation for the next challenge. You never arrive in this life.

Bad news? Not really. Along the way, I learned that realism is needed to prepare and persevere.

My most discouraging hikes were the ones where I was deceived about the distance, the difficulty, or both. Now I read trail descriptions more carefully.

Preparing for your next challenge?

Basics

World Letter Writing Day

August 28th, 2022
Mollie T. Cox

December 7th is National Letter Writing Day. Unless a Christmas card counts, it seems a burden to add to the holidays. I prefer World Letter Writing Day on the reasonable date of September 1st.

While both bless, written words have advantages over spoken ones.

Letters linger. I almost cried—okay, I did cry—when a current, long-distant friend’s note reminisced about meeting me in fourth grade, and her prayers for me over the years. I don’t think she would have said those words out loud. I reread Dawn’s nourishing words several times the first day.

Even better, letters linger for decades.

Maybe I don’t need to know that during her college years my mother regularly had sore throats or needed a new pair of black pumps or sang in a trio, but it gives me insight into her 1950s concerns. I definitely like knowing that my serious, quiet aunt was quite the flirt when she dated my uncle. I need the loving—and sometimes admiring—notes of small sons who are now grown and more jaded about their mother.

Blessed are the letter readers and the letter savers, and especially the letter writers. Which are you?

Basics, Memories

Process Your Moments: Part 2

June 5th, 2022
Mollie T. Cox

We move on and don’t process. Take in moments and don’t move on.
Deena Kastor, Bronze Medalist, 2004 Olympics

My fractured knee, meniscus tear, and Baker’s cyst made my plans to hike favorite trails in the Shenandoah National Park seem not only ambitious, but also foolish. While waiting for lunch the first day, I fell off a sidewalk and sprained my ankle. With determination, a carbon knee brace, and a makeshift ankle brace, my husband and I continued with our agenda.

What happened? An easy, one-mile hike that usually took seventeen minutes took over an hour. My husband and I sat longer than we walked. Our slow pace continued the following days.

The trail became our destination instead of an overlook or a waterfall or the completion of a trail’s loop.

We asked park rangers questions. We watched butterflies. We attempted to identify bird songs. We watched a doe chase—and then nurse—her fawn.

We studied trees and gave them suitable names.

We compared wildflowers.

Because of my injuries, we took in our moments. We processed. We savored. I declared our four days the best of our forty years of hiking

Do you have time to process?

See Here for Part 1.