The little sister looks with admiration into the eyes of her blustering big brother.  He is firm and sure as he says, “failure is NOT and option”.  It motivates her and she pushes through.  “Failure is not an option” becomes and internal mantra of behavior when things get tough.  Sis grows up, works hard, keeps busy, drives her life in the fast lane at autobahn speeds, beeping to pass others who are moving too slow on that road to success.  Finally the time comes when she starts top merge right so she can hit an exit.  She gets off the freeway, gets out, stretches, looks around, takes a rest and begins to feed herself.  She begins to discover simple wonders that sweeten the moment and creative ideas that expand that existence of life.  She begins to enjoy meandering walks more than hard driving.  One day in the midst of a sweet moment shared by morning dew, a tail wagging dog, and sounds of awakened birds she has a thought -  “ Failure is not an option”.  Where did I get that from?  If failure is not an option then what is it?  Is it something that happens to me?  Does something outside of me create failure?  Does failure even exist or is it an illusion that is created to ignore fear when it rears its head.  She stops, coffee steaming in the cool air.  Her dog stops and looks, something is obviously going on.  She says contemplatively yet aloud, “Failure IS an option, and it is one I can choose at anytime.  The moment I choose and accept failure is the moment that I cannot fail.  For the definition of failure is what I say it is and when I choose and accept it, there is an immediate transformation into possibilities lined with peace and imaginings supported by personal power.  She now realizes that all the failures she had failed to admit were never failures at all.  They were moments when new doors were opened and new wonders were found.  Failures are what light the way to our greatest gifts - given and received in this world.   I have failed much in my life and each has been the root of my greatest of my successes.

I walk along the shore, grey clouds overhead full of anticipation for the moment of watery release.  A symphony of waves set the mood with a constant climatic background far greater in texture than any man made sound machine.  There is nothing I need do, be or accomplish, I just walk.  I am walking in the sand that lies between the grains slick from a wave that has just visited and those not touched by waves since the last storm.  It is the in-between sand that most draws my attention because of the variety it offers.  It is here that I find interesting sculptures of seaweed, shattered seashells, broken crab shells.  It is here that ragged stones and smooth pebbles meet.  What will I pick up, what in all this vast variety will I put into my pocket.  And in what distant day of another walk in another place will I reach into that pocket and find the jewel of a memory that will bring me back to the ease, the exhalation, the perfection of this moment, this day, this seemingly insignificant day upon an autumn beach?  This walk upon the beach is my memory – I can never tell what small shell or smooth rock my memory will pick up, put into the pocket of my mind as a precious treasured thing.

The coming holidays bring about expectations of repeated good times, or repeated stress.  For some families the holidays are a fun reunion of relationships deeply cherished.  For other families Thanksgiving and Christmas are something to get through without emotional blood shed.  If yours is the later then why not change it now, before the event is upon you.  Here is what I did when I was in the process of changing my story around my family’s get togethers.  For 15 minutes just before bed, just after brushing my teeth, I would go through the day I just had.  In my mind’s eye I would start from the moment I awoke and go through the minutes of my day.  Each thought, action, reaction, defense, judgment, justification, blame, resentment, or self put down that I could remember I would simply forgive.  Forgive myself and any other person that in my mind was a party to my destructive thoughts. I did not work on the big uglies of my childhood, my relationship with my family or unloving happenings still remembered.  I just worked on the day just completing.  This exercise created an energy of forgiveness in me that crept up on me and soon became a way of thinking.  The next holiday with my family something major had changed – and it wasn’t my family.  I have had wonderful moments of connection, fun and support from my family since that time.  Maybe not the exact experiences I had always wished for – but definitely as valuable and heartwarming.   I can think of no greater gift to give yourself or your loved ones this holiday season – forgive.