Author: Kristine Binder

As moms we worry. We worry about so many things but mostly we worry about our kids. We worry that we are good enough and that we won’t mess the up to much …. We don’t want them to attend to many years of therapy!

We live much of our “mom life” in what seems to be a vacuum. We don’t want to appear less than any other mom. We want others to think we live a bucolic life devoid of problems. We have a hard time allowing anyone into our world … allowing anyone behind the “shower curtain” that is our life.

It is in this need for acceptance that we find ourselves alone. However if we opened up to one another…accepted more and judged less…we would find that many of us have so much in common. We are all longing to be a ‘good mom’. We want our kids to like us and respect us. We hate to discipline our kids…often it is harder on us than on them. We want a better life for our children. And we want our children to be happy and successful.

It is time that we opened up a bit. It is time that we allow others to see the imperfection that is our life. It is time that we help each other and lift each other up. We all want the same things but need the help of one another to achieve greatness. Peace.

I had planned to write about the not so glamorous side of parenting. I had planned to write about my weakness as a parent. I had planned to write about how much I dislike and how exhausting it is to be the bad guy all the time.
Well, while all that is still true … difficult and exhausting, my perspective is a bit different at this point in time. I am blessed with kids that wear me down and wear me out. They are just “normal” kids. They are far from perfect but they are healthy.
I went back to work today and was greeted with a host of emails and phone calls that needed returning. In those emails were parent notes letting me know of job loss, impending divorces and hospitalized children…one of which has cancer.
I thought of these families and children for a long time this morning as guilt washed over me. Who am I to complain and stress about my own children’s missteps? I am blessed to have my problems and not the problems these families face.
So as I look at a photo of my kids all I can think of is that they not perfect, nor am I, but we are healthy and my husband comes home safely from work every night. I am so blessed. I just needed to shift my perspective to see my blessings…
  Peace.

Yesterday I got home from my run and was greeted by my 9year old son asking me what we were going to do all day. It is rare that we have an unscheduled day with time to spare. I did have a million things to do of my own (laundry, cooking, grocery shopping, etc) but replied, “how about a walk?”. He ran to get dressed and then leashed up the dog while I hydrated and refueled.
We loaded the dog and camera in the car and headed to the forest preserve. It was a cloudy, mild day and the trail was busy but we walked, looked at the world around us and chatted. The world is a very interesting place when viewed through the eyes of a 9 year old boy. He sees things I overlook. He hears things I don’t. He thinks deep thoughts and has a sense of humor that rivals many adults. Don’t get me wrong, he can be a pest and get under my skin but there are days like today that make up for it all.
As we walked, he pointed out things he thought were interesting and I photographed each item. A beautiful collaboration created these photos as we walked. Peace.

“While you never know what gifts life will bring, you can trust that every sunrise offers possibilities. Every day holds beautiful moments and new dreams waiting for you to come and find them.” {Duvall}
So today soak up all that is good. Enjoy those small successes. Enjoy your family. Enjoy a run, a bike ride, a walk….whatever you do ….. see, hear, enjoy, and soak up all that is good!

Our name is so important to our identity. Think about it …when someone says, “yea!” we are happy but when someone says,”yea, (our name)!” we turn our head and feel the personal connection.
A few weeks ago I took 6 8th grade girls to volunteer at a local soup kitchen. It was an eye opening experience for these teens. They don’t really know the face of hunger and the face of the poor in this country. As I was moving through the room pouring coffee and juice for the guests there was a man who caught my eye. He was a tall larger framed fellow sporting a bright pink tshirt and blue sweatpants wearing a brighter pink backpack on his back. He was balding and had obviously been out in the sun as his scalp was pinkish as well. He sat and waited patiently for dinner. I asked him what he would like to drink and he said juice. He was so sweet and kind. I knew he was special. I asked him his name and he responded “Buddy”. I told him my name and we started to chat. I told him I loved his pink shirt and backpack as pink is my favorite color (REALLY). He told me that he gets picked on a lot because of his affection for the color pink but he no longer cares. He told me that he has made peace with himself and loves that he is different from others. I loved his candor and honesty. He was incredibly kind hearted. I moved on and helped others checking on Buddy regularly. As I was cleaning up, he walked over to me and said, “thank you, Kristine”. He told me he looked forward to my returning as I was kind to him. I explained it was I that wanted to return to visit him and learn more from him. We parted ways and as he left with his pink backpack filled with snacks for later I wondered where he was off to and where he spent his time. I will never forget the lessons of my friend Buddy. He told me not many people called him by his real name…..they called him names. I learned more from Buddy than I realized. I was reminded of the importance of our names.
So today as I set off on a run with 2 of my running ladies I was not thinking about names or anything other than putting one foot in front of the other and completeing my run. As I ran the trails I have run for 3 years I saw a famililiar face. He is an older genlteman (in his 80’s) with an intense expression and an odd stride. I see him every weekend when we are out on our long runs We passed him once today and I told the girls that I was tired of just smiling at him and was going to ask this man his name. They laughed and tried to guess his name (“Bob” was a common suggestion) so I stopped him ….and for anyone who knows runners knows how we don’t like to be stopped when we are in forward motion so I was taking a risk here. He slowed as I asked him his name. “Ed” he replied with a wide smile….I was unsure if he was flattered that I wanted to know his name or that 3 good looking women wanted to know his name. “Nice to meet you, Ed! Have a great run”. And the girls and I continued on as Ed finished his run in the opposite direction. I will now happily use his name as I bid him good morning on our runs. I look forward to seeing that wide smile again.
Connections are important in this time of millions of friends on social networks and no real feeling of connectedness. Building connections is vital in the communities where we live and work. Names are a key part of connections. Names…they can build you up or break you down. Learn the names of those people in your community and use names to build others up …and build bridges. Peace.

Running is so many things to me and provides so much in my life. One of those things is Peace. I find a great sense of peace on my runs alone….sometimes more than others.

Friday was one of those peace filled runs. I did not want to run long nor did I want to go fast. I had just rediscovered my passion for running and did not want to to dwindle with a cruddy run. I knew I had a long run planned with some girls for Saturday morning so this was about getting out and not wasting a beautiful day.

I started out and really did not have a set loop or route planned. I was just moving forward. Somehow I found myself in one of my favorite running spots….and one I have not visited in a LONG while. Destiny, perhaps. My subconscious driving my run, perhaps. A higher power in charge and guiding my feet, perhaps. Whatever way it happened I found myself crossing the street and heading into the cemetery.

Yes, I run in the cemetery. I used to go there once a week but have not run there in a long time. I live near a very large cemetery (actually 2 that are connected) and it has wonderful paved pathways which I can runs miles and miles of loops or one giant loop. Ok…I know what you are thinking….isn’t that disrespectful/sac religious/creepy/morbid/icky/scary/odd/weird/……the list goes on and on. I have heard it all….mostly from my kids….about how I am nuts.

I run through the cemetery and feel an overwhelming sense of peace. It is quiet and really safe. There are not a lot of cars and I can run in the middle of the road! I love to look at the beautiful and unique headstones and monuments, many of which are very old (1800’s) and very ornate. There is a mausoleum where many priests are laid to rest and other family mausoleums dating back to the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. I have past Dr. Fortune and the Bad/Day family plot (FOR REAL!). I do not feel it is my place to take a photo of these but they are real! The newer section of the cemetery had very contemporary monuments made of beautiful black and grey granite. It is quite a contrast to the older sections. But as I run, I do not feel lonely at all. I feel enveloped  by love and life. I try to imagine the lives and loves of these people that surround me. I wonder how many people visit them and how often. I wonder if those they left behind miss them and honor their memory. I wonder if people will visit me when I die. I wonder what their legacy is and what mine will be.

I am so often lost in thought I rarely notice those people that are visiting others. During one run some time ago, a woman stopped me. She startled me at first as I thought something was wrong. She was crying as she stepped in front of me. I stopped and asked if everything was ok. She cried a bit more and said that it was. She told me she was visiting her daughter (and proceeded take me arm and guide me to her headstone!). She then told me I reminded her of her daughter. She said I was sent by her husband and daughter (freaking out? YUP…I was too!) to remind her not to cry but to live….. that her daughter didn’t want her to visit and be sad but visit and be reminded to live. I began to cry….see I have always believed that things happen for a reason. I believe that we are surrounded by angels …..this was no coincidence. We spoke for a few more minutes as she told me about her daughter (who died at 31 after a long illness never having married nor having children.) and that her husband was buried right next to her. She was alone….except for friends.  We soon parted ways and I finished my run. I have not seen that woman again since but I do stop at that site each time I run through the cemetery and say a prayer…..for the girl, her father and especially her mother. I wonder if she ever came back. I wonder where she is and how she is doing. I know she is still alive as there is still one vacant plot next to her husband.

Peace can be found in the strangest places and oddest times.  I choose to find my peace surrounded by beauty. I choose to find my peace enveloped in love and life.  I choose to find my peace in my running. Peace.