SHOW UP WITH LOVE to transform the world: observations and inspiration from Marci Moore, Writer, Certified Coach, Trainer and Lifelong Change Agent.
|Posted on August 15, 2014 at 10:30 AM||comments (0)|
When my brother Mark received his ALS diagnosis, I wasn’t prepared to step into the role of his emotional caregiver. There were long stretches of days during those eighteen months when nothing kept me going but my love for him.
More recently, during a much needed getaway, a friend fell seriously ill. Our getaway turned into an opportunity to serve. Love fueled us when, logically, there was nothing left in the tank. And two weeks later, when Pam was diagnosed with bronchitis during the height of two candidate searches, love fueled me to do whatever needed to be done. Somehow I managed to keep the home and business plates spinning between doctor appointments, pharmacy runs, temperature taking and more.
I’ve found that whenever opportunities to serve present themselves, we are given the exact resources necessary to be present, helpful and loving.
When has love fueled you to accomplish more than you thought possible?
|Posted on August 4, 2014 at 10:15 AM||comments (0)|
I had a difficult email to write last night. We’d made a commitment to a cross country visit and needed to cancel. We just couldn’t do it, couldn’t be there without significant cost to myself or Pam. We’ve burnt the candle at both ends this year (something Mom always warned me about) and forgotten the importance of showing up for ourselves.
Then a week ago Pam was diagnosed with a rather nasty case of bronchitis. She rarely gets sick but this illness kept her in bed, forced her to rest no matter what projects were waiting. She’s still on the mend, may well be for the next few weeks. Her illness demanded we reassess our priorities going forward.
So I carefully worded the email, wanting to the other person to know how precious she is to us, and after many seconds of one finger hovering over the enter button, hit send. A short while later, the reply came, “Absolutely. Right decision.” She understood.
And sometimes, isn’t that what we most need to hear?
|Posted on June 2, 2014 at 9:30 AM||comments (0)|
For many of us, graduation season has arrived: the season of goodbyes and hellos. Friday night Pam and I watched with pride and more than a few tears as one of my nephews confidently strode across the stage to collect his diploma.
Later that night, when he could have attended any number of after-graduation activities with his friends, he chose to hang out with his extended family at the Village Inn, the place we’ve gathered as a family after every almost every high school sporting event. As we expressed our pride in all he’d accomplished and showered him with love, he showered it right back on us by choosing to be fully present and engaged.
I wasn’t surprised. You see, that’s how he rolls. One of the many reasons I love my nephew so much is that he genuinely cares about others. He loves deeply. He’s always looking out for the underdog. There’s nothing in it for him, it’s just who he is.
I was there to celebrate his birth and watched him quickly wrap us all around his tiny finger on the way to his first family reunion at three months old. We fell in love with his smile, infectious laugh, and later, his kindness. Pam and I hung out with him and his brothers almost every single Saturday night for the first twelve years of his life and spent most of his school years cheering from the sidelines through sport after sport. We’ve attended his plays, piano recitals and various concerts. All weekend I’ve found myself tearing up a little knowing we won’t be following him as closely in the next chapter of his life. Or maybe those tears are simply joy for the man he’s become: a loving, gentle giant.
When I look at him, I have hope for the planet. Millions of other graduates stand ready to make their mark on the world in one way or another. No matter what degree they ended up with, no matter where they go to work or what they do in life, I hope, like Zach, they’ve graduated with honors in kindness and love. I hope they plan to transform this world for good. And in the end, I hope these graduates are recognized for love, for having left the planet a little bit better than when they arrived.
Marci Moore All rights reserved. June 2014
|Posted on January 28, 2014 at 7:30 AM||comments (0)|
We just spent the last four days with my brother and sister-in-law on our fifth annual siblings cruise. It’s a great time for us to relax, laugh, reflect on the prior year and talk about any pressing family issues that need our attention.
Life has changed tremendously over the span of our five cruises. We’ve witnessed graduations and marriages and watched our family of origin shrink by two. Our concerns have changed over the years and we’ve grown more appreciative of the relationship we share. Losses test the best of relationships and we are blessed to have come through them stronger and more unified than before. I believe love is responsible.
Will others understand what we’ve risked for this relationship? No. From the outside our differences appear substantial enough to keep us oceans apart - yet we’ve found common ground. We choose to remain invested in one another’s lives. We choose to celebrate what we can with and for one another. We choose not to ask one another for more than the other can give.
We’ve all stretched. Instead of closing our hearts to one another, we’ve navigated challenging terrain to continue building on the foundation of love we share. And we are better for it. Our relationship reminds me what of what is possible for the rest of the world, when we supersize our definition of love.
Next time you are tempted to close your heart, consider supersizing your love instead.
|Posted on December 3, 2013 at 11:55 PM||comments (0)|
We lost a box of ornaments.
Not just any ornaments but the precious ones with all the memories tucked inside. THE box of ornaments.
It was a silly mistake, undiscoverable until Sunday when we put up the tree.
Since we’d spent most of last winter on an extended consulting engagement in Virginia, the ornament box didn’t make it back to the Christmas closet when the Christmas tree came down. It landed in the spare room that would become eventually become Pam’s new office – to be put away when we returned home.
Instead, when we came home from our assignment, we went through a shedding phase, packing up more than 40 boxes of items we no longer used. We stored all of these boxes, destined for the church thrift store in PAM’S FUTURE OFFICE.
You’ve probably guessed by now what happened. And I’m certain, when I carted them off, I had no idea the ornaments were going to new homes.
Maybe you’re asking, what do ornaments have to do with love? Good question. I thought I loved those ornaments. We’d schlepped them from one home to another. We’d carefully selected meaningful trinkets from our travels to add to our collection. There was the red telephone booth from London and the tiny golden Eiffel Tower from Paris. There were bicycle ornaments and a Disney ornament holding a (pre-wrinkle) “photo with Santa” that we both swore looked as if it came of the box that way. Other ornaments, gifted and handmade from friends and family, reminded us of each year of our life together. There was “Fudge Forever,” an ornament that always reminded me of my Dad’s culinary skills.
They. Are. All. Gone. Forever. I admit it. I was close to tears at first. But after a day of feeling a bit blue, I’m on the mend.
Because what those ornaments represented were memories of a life full of love and adventure. What I recall are the friendships, family and sweet stories surrounding most everything we put on the tree. Those memories live on in our hearts.
Yes, we’ll continue to create new memories and collect ornaments as evidence. It’s just part of our DNA. But next year our holiday story will have a new chapter. It begins like this: “Do you remember the year we lost our ornaments?” We’ll smile and recall not what’s missing, but the abundance of love each ornament represented.
|Posted on November 18, 2013 at 3:50 PM||comments (0)|
This past Thursday night, as we listened to the rising internal voices of fear and doubt, a dear friend showed up full of just-in-time encouragement. “You are on the right path,” she said.
During the marathon call, our friend listened deeply and reflected back what she heard. She shared her experience of us and our message. She untangled our fears from our excitement and said, “I will support you.” More importantly, she said, “You must do this.”
I felt the weight of her words as they settled into my heart. Her encouragement reaffirmed the truth of them. Her words allowed us to focus on the next step and the next.
Countless others stand behind and beside us for the long haul, sprinkling us with encouragement, nudges and an occasional, somewhat uncomfortable push from the nest of safety. Each word is a treasure tucked away to help us conquer future seeds of doubt.
You may never know the impact your words of encouragement have on another person.
|Posted on November 8, 2013 at 7:00 AM||comments (0)|
I’ve felt a little short of time lately, bogged down with a slew of meetings, phone calls and life demands on top of my writing. Throw in classes to renew my coaching certification and prepping for an arts and craft fair this weekend and there seems to be less room for offering sips, let alone waterfalls. I find myself tucking love into the crevices of my day, into the edges instead of front and center.
Others are waiting for love – in droves. Sips are simple. Hold the door open for someone. Leave a generous tip. Drop a card in the mail with your signature on it. Send a quick email.
A waterfall says I see you. A waterfall takes the phone call and settles in, runs the errand together, says of course we can talk, slows down to the speed of love. Obviously, I’ve got some schedule pruning to do.
|Posted on November 1, 2013 at 8:00 AM||comments (0)|
I dashed into our neighborhood pizza joint yesterday to grab lunch. As I approached the counter, I heard a familiar voice call out, “Hey sister.” I turned around to see my baby brother at a table by the windows. I joined him and we visited for a few minutes. Rare are the times we talk one on one. He has a demanding job, a great wife and three sons, two who still attend high school. Most of our conversations these days sprout during breaks in the boys’ sporting events or when the entire gang gathers at Village Inn or Steak &Shake following a game. Or during commercials when we get together to watch yet another season of The Amazing Race.
These are just some of the joys of living close to my family. Another is being there for each other. We’ve become a tag team of sorts. Mom’s been sick for nine days now. When we couldn’t take her to a doctor’s appointment, I called my other brother, hoping he could stand in. He quickly agreed.
We’re there for each other as memory keepers, processing stations when the complexities of life need sorting out and constant reminders that life is too short not to laugh. Our laughter has sustained us and brought us closer through the years.
Not that we all agree on everything. We don’t. But we agree on love. We agree on family. We agree to disagree and get on with living. And sometimes that’s what love looks like.