The Creative Nest

I have a question for you: Does the possibility of taking a class at the gym actually make you more likely to go to the gym? Because I have discovered that there is a very specific kind of optimism that happens when you are looking at a gym's class schedule. You see a class called Strength & Sculpt on Tuesday at 6:00 p.m., and suddenly you can picture yourself becoming a completely different person. You are going to put on your cute workout clothes, grab your water bottle, walk into that class with confidence, and absolutely crush it. This is it. This is the beginning of your fitness era. Then Tuesday rolls around, and suddenly 6:00 p.m. seems extremely inconvenient. Maybe Wednesday would be better. Or perhaps Saturday morning. Saturday morning sounds productive. You could go to the class, get your workout done, come home, shower, and have the entire rest of the day ahead of you. Of course, Saturday morning arrives and you realize that 9:00 a.m. is basically the middle of the n...

I have a favorite pen. There, I said it. Not a fancy pen. Not one of those expensive pens that comes in a beautiful box and makes you feel like you should be signing important contracts with it. Nope. Mine is a blue Bic pen. And I am apparently very loyal to it. My favorite pen is almost always blue. Every once in a great while, I'll grab a red one, but that's basically my rebellious phase. Most of the time, I want that nice, dependable blue ink. There is just something about a good Bic pen. It writes when you need it to write. It doesn't require a special ceremony. You don't have to shake it seventeen times and scribble on a piece of scrap paper before it decides whether it wants to participate. You pick it up, you write, and it works. That's the kind of relationship I appreciate. And yet, somehow, pens have become one of those things that I apparently have strong opinions about. I'll happily use a random pen if I have to. I'm not unreasonable. But if I hav...

How do you comfort someone who is hurting when you can’t take the hurt away? I’ve been thinking about that question lately. Not the kind of hurt that comes from a scraped knee or a bad day at work, but the deeper kind. The kind that changes someone’s world and leaves a person confused, frightened, sad, or simply unable to understand why things have to be the way they are. Sometimes the hardest part is watching someone you care about struggle with a change they don't fully understand. They may know that something is different, but they may not understand why it had to happen or why things can't simply go back to the way they were. They may feel like something has been taken away from them without anyone explaining it in a way that makes sense to them. And even when there are reasons behind the change—good reasons, necessary reasons, reasons that are ultimately meant to protect them or make life better—you still have to watch them experience the loss. And what do you say to that?...