life uncommon

Leading a Life Uncommon

Posted by Barbara Techel

cottage windowThe view out my life uncommon writing cottage windows this morning.

Many writers, artists and creatives seem to live a life uncommon. I got to thinking about this over the weekend after reading a blog post called “Committing to Your Life” by author Jon Katz.

It’s interesting because I never really put myself in this category. Maybe subconsciously I did. But I realize in many ways that John and I are leading a life uncommon. Uncommon because we really try to live by our own definition of what matters and sometimes going against what society has ingrained in us is the “right” way to live.

When the stock market and the economy took a major nose dive in 2008, John and I were both scared we would lose his business and possibly our home. But more than that, we were scared we would lose what we both love to do. John being a small business owner of his remodeling company, and me wanting to write, share a positive message about special needs dogs, and volunteer. I also love to be home. It took me years to be okay with this and not worry about what others may think about it.

We took a big risk and cashed in our retirement money and paid off our home, as well as, a few small business loans. Our financial adviser tried to talk us out of it. This may seem like a huge risk to many, and sometimes, yes, it still scares me about the “what if’s.” I actually wrote about this in my book Through Frankie’s Eyes. But when I did, I was still carrying shame around this and wrote between the lines, so to speak, leaving readers to try and guess what I meant.

But I don’t want to hide from this any longer. This is our life. While I’ve said it out loud on other occasions among others I felt safe with, I don’t believe I’ve said this as clear as this on my blog until now.

In thinking about a life uncommon and not having a “nest egg” I also give thought to what if John and I weren’t doing what we both loved? Isn’t that a risk for so much more? I think so.  What if we still had that retirement money, but we died before we got to use it? That seems like a bigger risk to us.

While yes, I worry on occasion about the what if’s of life, I also am living a pretty happy life. I love my life. I love each day that I can determine my purpose for the day instead of waiting for that “someday” I may retire after possibly being unhappy in a job I didn’t like.

I don’t know what the future holds, nor does anyone. But I do know that I make a conscious choice to choose being happy in this moment, this day. To not follow my heart is something I can’t do after working so hard to get to this point. This is what is now ingrained in me.

As I write this post, my writing cottage windows are wide open, the sun is streaming in from the east, the birds are chirping, the wind is gently blowing, and Gidget is snoozing next to my writing desk. I have projects I’m excited to work on. I have blog post ideas brewing in my head. I have new adventures ahead in volunteering. This is the life uncommon that I want.

Life Uncommon: My First Connection to the Other Side

Posted by Barbara Techel

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERACassie Jo, April 2005

Maybe it’s because it was the first Christmas without her that I relate the song by Jewel, Life Uncommon to her. And maybe it is because of her I think of this song because she taught me to start living my life by my own definition.

In July 2005 we said goodbye to our chocolate Lab, Cassie Jo, who died from bone cancer. A cancer typical in the breed, but not typical in where her tumor was located. On her hip, and partially grown into her spine. Nothing we could really do for treatment for her, but try an experimental drug. We brought her home and loved her more deeply than ever for the remaining time we had with her.

There’s a line in the song, “set down your chains.” John related that to Cassie Jo finally being free of the cancer that invaded her body for eight months. The next line, “till only faith remains” would be my test to build my faith that I will see her again one day– that we would always be connected– even when death took her away from me physically.

Each Christmas John and I have a tradition of taking a drive, looking at all the holiday decorations lit up at night. Christmas 2005, our first one without Cassie Jo joining us for the ride.

It would become a tradition to play Jewel’s Christmas CD as we made our way throughout a few small towns near our home.

As the song Life Uncommon came on I felt tears well up in my eyes. My heart ready to crack wide open thinking of, and really missing, Cassie Jo. The ache deep wishing I could hug her once again.  I also wanted to know if she was okay.

The moon so bright that night. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I looked out the car window, the Christmas lights on the homes a blur. It was then I saw her.

Galloping like a small pony, ears flying in the wind, a smile on her face. In my head I heard her say, I am happy and free. I’m okay.

For some time after that I questioned whether or not I really saw her. Was it really just my imagination?  Did I truly see her or was it just an image I made up?

The more I have lived into my faith and truth, the more I know I did see her. She was there. I believe this. Since then, I’ve had more experiences such as this with animals that have passed. I consider it a great gift to experience visits from the other side. It brings me much comfort.

For quite sometime after Cassie Jo passed and that moment, I felt her guiding me, becoming my spiritual guide. She was the heart dog who started it all for me. She helped me to get out of my own way and start taking steps into who I really wanted to be. She is why I became a writer.

Merry Christmas, my sweet Cassie Jo. Though you rest higher in spirit now, I always think you this time of year.  I just wanted you to know. Though I think you already do.

800 x 100

Annual Holiday Tradition. Life Uncommon

Posted by Barbara Techel

Every year John and I make a date to drive around in the nearby cities to look at the holiday lights. We bring along our favorite Christmas CD's to add to the spirit of the season. One of our favorite CD's is singer Jewel's holiday CD. We especially like the song, "Life Uncommon." That song evokes deep emotions for both of us.

The holiday after our chocolae Lab, Cassie Jo, died from bone cancer, we were esepcially missing her. The line in the song that says, "set down your chains" had us thinking of her battle with cancer, and how she was now free. Though she really didn't seem to be in pain until the very end, at the end, we knew she struggled. Knowing she no longer had those chains of pain upon her made us happy for her– though we missed her dearly.

That Christmas season, driving around, I received a gift I remember clearly to this day. As the song played, tears streaming down my face lost in the sorrow of no longer having Cassie Jo to hold, I looked out the window and saw her. There was a full moon high in the sky… and there she was running in a field next to me– her ears flying in the wind. She was so happy. I knew then that she would be with me always– and she stopped on by to let me know she was okay. Maybe some wouldn't believe I really saw Cassie Jo, but as the song says at one point, "move out of the way all you unbelievers- there's a new army coming and we are armed with faith" and so it is that I know without a doubt, I saw her. It's all I need.

So every year when we drive around to look at the twinkling lights, I think of Cassie Jo. I no longer see her, but I feel her in my heart. This song is ours- our connection to her spirit- which shines just as brightly as the day we brought her home as a pup.

As we discussed when to do our annual tradition which we did last night John said, "I'm not sure anymore where all the good holiday lighs are." When he worked more on the job sites for his construction business, instead of his home office like he does now, he would see houses lit up at night on his drive home that he wanted to show me. I said, "It's not what matters." To me, it's our time of deep connection- words often not spoken, but there is a spirit of love so full in our car that it is palpable.

Wishing you each a life uncommon this holiday season and beyond….