I have an inner toddler. She is a bratty little girl. I think my inner demons are using her since I’ve been trying to get rid of them. She was content for a bit, in my subconscious, happy as a little clam. My little toddler was not happy when that quirky trait of mine came calling.

What is that quirky thing of which I speak? If something comes across my path three times, it usually means God is trying to get my attention and I need to act upon it. There are so many time I don’t listen, and I know He is shaking His head saying “Lisa, Lisa, Lisa. It would’ve been so much easier if you had listened.” Yea, well…

Here are my three things.

Jordancon 2022

In 2019 I read a blog post about the writing track at Jordancon, a science fiction and fantasy convention. I looked at their website and liked what I saw. A big surprise was one of my favorite authors, Faith Hunter, was one of the guests of honor. I was stoked. I hadn’t been to a writing conference of any kind since Killer Nashville. My best friend, who is also a writer, prepared to go with me. We paid for our tickets, got a room and prepared for our adventure. This was 2020. You know what happened. And the same thing happened in 2021. Now, it was 2022 and off on our quest we went.

We checked in, went to our hotel room, and planned our weekend. We picked panels, shopping time, everything we wanted to do, but one thing. Meals. Being a type 2 diabetic, I’m supposed to eat my meals and have my snacks. But, unfortunately, my bratty inner toddler was in control, so I was only playing lip service to trying to do what I was supposed to do. I had been doing that for a while.

I don’t remember what I had said about that, or if I played the martyr. I’ll just deal and be fine with my mini Slim Jims. I really hope I didn’t do the martyr thing. I probably did. The Slim Jims were the only thing I brought, but Beth had a whole arsenal of heathy foods she was willing to share. I hemmed and hawed of course, but in the end, I ended up eating every two to three hours, like a good little diabetic, on the healthy snacks my BFF strongly encouraged me to eat. My glucose levels came down. Bugger. Don’t you hate it when your best friend sneaks a teachable life lesson on you. The very best friends are the ones that call you out. And Beth did that very well.

I went home. Changed my diabetic regimen. My inner toddler was not happy. Tough tacos!

The Loss of An Adopted Aunt

My family moved to Georgia from Washington state when I was about five or six. We lived with my grandmother in Augusta for a while, then moved to Marietta. We lived in an apartment for a couple of years, then my parents bought a house. My mother became friends with the woman down the street. They ended up being best friends, sister friends like Beth and I.

While I was attending Jordancon, I received a message from my sister telling me my adopted aunt was in hospice care. She passed a few days later. Her daughter and son gave a wonderful eulogy. The preacher came to the podium to speak.

He said the eulogies made him think of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. Most people know this from “Turn, Turn, Turn,” by the Byrds.

He talked about walking through cemeteries and looking at the birth and death dates. He mentioned the dash between the two. That dash is your life. I felt as though I had been knocked upside the head. In that moment I realized I wasn’t living my full life. My mobility sucks because of a bad knee. I need it replaced and was supposed to be working on it. Like I said, lip service.

American Ninja Warrior

You read that right, American Ninja Warrior. My husband and I sit on the couch encouraging these people and help them get through their obstacles. This season a young man, Christopher Jones, ran the course and did very well. He made it through and hit the buzzer. He was wearing a Living Wide t-shirt. Christopher ran the course in honor of his father who passed from lung cancer. And although, Mr. Jones’ prognosis wasn’t good, he didn’t let it stop him from living. His father called it Living Wide.

On the landing page of their website scrolls their mission. It says that we may not control how long our life will be, but we can control the width. This group helps people with critical illnesses to live their best life. To live wide.

That was another head slap. I don’t have a critical illness, but it didn’t matter. It was another reminder that I’m not living my best life. That needs to change.

I need to write more.

I need to play my bass more.

I need to get out of my house and spend time with friends.

I need to stop letting my bratty inner toddler control me.

I need to get out of my own way.

I need to live wide. And that’s what I’m going to do.

LIVE WIDE IN THE DASH.

See ya soon!