Author: Mary Ann Johnson

Practicing Calm — The Time-In – A Series: Part 2

I’ve been thinking about what it means to practice calm, especially in moments when other people are watching and silently judging whether you’re doing it right. Here’s a story that’s stayed with me for years.

The little boy, three years old, was out of control, a temper tantrum of sorts. I didn’t know what he wanted, but I could tell he felt desperate to have whatever it was. His mother was using a calm voice, talking to him, holding him gently while he twisted and screamed, then leading him away. I could tell that many of the onlooking adults felt upset with her. Why wasn’t she doing anything about this terrible tantrum? Why didn’t she make him stop?

That little boy was my grandson, and his mother is my daughter, Jodie. We were at a family reunion, and this wasn’t his first outburst. He was three, that difficult age when a child is learning to control his impulses, to be patient, to wait. It’s tough. I know some adults who haven’t mastered those skills yet either. LOL

Judgment 

I would look across the campground, and there he’d be, wailing about something he needed right now, while other adults quietly formed opinions about his parents and what they weren’t doing. I could tell that silent judgment was wearing on my daughter.

Later, she told me it had taken real effort to stay centered and stay true to the parenting vision she had put in place in her home. What looked like doing nothing to the onlookers was actually a clear plan of action for this mom.

Her goal was to help Jack learn to control himself, and she did that by modeling the very behavior she wanted him to learn. She stayed calm. She was gentle but firm. If he couldn’t get control, she moved him to a quiet place and held him while he settled. It wasn’t easy. It would have been so much easier to handle him roughly, lay down the law, or yell.

What’s a Time-In?

I love the term she used for what happened when he was having a hard moment. She called it a “time-in.” She pulled him into her lap for a cuddle and a quiet chat instead of sending him away. It helped him settle, or at least redirected him toward something calmer.

Parenting can be daunting, especially when we choose to go against the grain. It takes courage to follow what we’ve decided is right, whether it’s how we discipline, educate, or talk to our children in hard moments. Having a clear picture of the outcome we want goes a long way toward helping us stay true to our choices, even when others are watching and wondering why we aren’t doing “more.”

If you’re struggling because you haven’t quite settled on what kind of parent you want to be in these moments, it can help to sit down, even briefly, and put it into words. What do you want your children to feel when they’re overwhelmed? What do you want them to learn about handling big emotions? You don’t need a formal document.

Just enough clarity to hold on to in the moments when everyone else’s opinions are loudest.

Practicing Calm — The Honey Bucket – A Series: Part 1

I used to think staying calm with my children was a skill I’d eventually master and move past, something I’d graduate from once they were grown. I know better now. Right now, I’m caring for my 96-year-old mother, who has dementia, and I’m finding myself back in the same classroom I thought I’d left decades ago.

That’s really what this series of five articles is about. Not a formula, not a finished skill, but a practice, one that shows up again and again across a lifetime, in different seasons, with different people, in ways we don’t always see coming.

The stories in this series are from long ago, mostly from the years when my children were small, or my grandchildren were underfoot. But I keep coming back to them, because the lessons in them are just as true today as they were then. I hope these stories feel less like advice from someone who’s arrived, and more like company from someone still on the road with you.

I’m in a new season of practicing calm. My mom is 96 and living with dementia, and some days caring for her tests every ounce of patience I thought I’d built up over the years. I lose it occasionally. I hear my voice get sharp, or I feel that same old flash of frustration rise, and I have to stop and remind myself of something I learned a long time ago, back when my own children were small.

Staying calm isn’t a skill you master once and keep forever. It’s a practice. And you never know when life will hand you a new season that puts you right back in the classroom. I was reminded of that recently when I came across an old story from years ago, back when my grandchildren were small, and I was watching them for the day. It’s a good reminder that the practice never really ends, and that’s okay. Enjoy. : )

I was sitting at the table watching Mary today. She had a small bowl of popcorn and was happily eating. Every bite or so, she would look up and give me a coy little smile. I would smile back and eat a piece of my popcorn. After several bites and coy smiles, Mary got up, toddled over to me, and lifted her face for a kiss. I gave her one, and she went back to the popcorn, took another bite, gave me that same shy smile, and I returned it. Then she got up again, came over to me, and lifted her face for another kiss. We repeated this a few times.

20 Minutes Earlier

What made this peaceful, joyous moment so remarkable was what had happened just 20 minutes earlier.

In the kitchen was a large bucket of thick honey, straight from my own bees, with no water in it, so it was very sticky. I noticed that bucket the day before and thought, “Hmm, that lid isn’t on very tight.” Then, as busy people do, I went on my way and didn’t do anything about it.

Today my grandchildren came to spend the whole day. I was prepared with crafts and fun, and all was going to be great. But I was running behind, which meant we were late eating breakfast and getting dressed. It was after 11:00 when I was tying the last shoelace. Just then, Mary came into the living room dripping honey from head to foot.

I let out a shriek, grabbed her, and ran for the tub, clothes and all. I fussed the whole way. “Mary, what did you do? Why were you in the kitchen? Look at this mess!” All the things you’d expect me to say.

As I stripped her clothes off and washed away the very thick honey, I made myself think about what was happening. I had a real mess in the kitchen, I was sure. This was my last set of clothes for Mary, and she hadn’t even been dressed for ten minutes. I was angry, and honestly, it was my own fault for not securing that lid.

I forced myself to calm down and really look at her. She was perfectly happy being doused in warm water, and any sense of trouble had already evaporated into the joy of the bath. She’s just a baby, really, only 16 months old. She’s interested in everything, and I mean everything. I hadn’t secured the perimeter, so to speak, and now I had a mess to clean up.

More than that, I realized that damaging this precious relationship over her childish need to explore, and my own oversight, would be a terrible trade. So, I stopped fussing. I washed her off, kissed her as I dried her, and steeled myself to go face the kitchen. It really was a mess.

A couple of days ago, I was talking with a mom about staying calm. She told me she’d decided to practice it, and that it was making a real difference. She said the more she practiced, the better she got at it. Amen to that.

Staying calm, not losing your temper, being present, seeing a child as a person with needs instead of a problem to solve – these are all practiced skills. The more we practice, the better we get. That’s what I had to do that day: practice some more.

What I’ve Learned

I’m imperfect at this, just like most of you. I felt angry first. I fussed. But then I made myself stop and choose better. A few things I’ve learned along the way:

  • The sweetness of family life comes through when we stay as calm and kind with our children as we can manage.
  • Children aren’t small adults. They don’t think like we do or behave as we do, and that means they’ll end up in trouble often as they grow and learn.
  • Living with children means living with the possibility of mess, frustration, and moments that test our patience. But damaging a relationship over a mess is never worth it.
  • Staying calm takes practice, practice, and more practice, and we won’t be perfect at it. The better we get at it, though, the better we feel about ourselves, and it tends to spill over into the rest of our lives too.

And here I am, all these years later, practicing all over again. : )

Learning in Disguise

A friend of mine, a mom with several young children, told me recently that her kids’ favorite thing to do is play dress-up. They want to do it all day long, even the boys. Of course, it makes a glorious mess. As we visited, she asked me about the value of this interest she was seeing in her kids, and it opened up a wonderful conversation.

The ideas we talked about are primarily for children under eleven, but don’t close the door on your teens just yet. I have found that when families incorporate a younger child’s interests into a shared activity, older kids will often join in too. Secretly, many of them miss being kids. So read on and think about how this might bring your family together, whatever ages you’re working with.

Play Is the Gateway

Children between the ages of one and twelve are in what is called the Age of Exploration. They want to experiment with everything physically and mentally, and dress-up play is one of the most natural expressions of that impulse. What looks like simple make-believe is actually children trying on the world — testing out who they might be, what history might have felt like, what it means to be someone else entirely.

And here is the beautiful opportunity for families: if you are present, even a little, while the costumes are coming out, you can weave in stories and information that children will carry with them for years. Not as a lesson. Not as school. Just as a story told by someone they love, while everyone is playing together. That combination — your presence, their imagination, a great story is a powerful thing.

Ideas to Try

You can share stories of past kings and queens as your children dress up as royalty. You can talk about a historical era and let them act out the characters. Some periods of history are especially rich for this kind of story-play: explorers like Lewis and Clark, scientists like Marie Curie and Albert Einstein, or even a beloved ancestor whose story deserves to be remembered. Tell a short story, then let them become the character. The learning that happens this way tends to stick because it was fun, it was shared, and you were there.

You don’t need an elaborate costume collection for any of this. Some families have a box of dress-up clothes, and that’s wonderful. But what I used with my grandchildren was a large box of fabric squares and scarves. Fabric and scarves leave everything to the imagination, and children are endlessly creative when given the freedom to invent. I have seen teens come up with remarkable ideas and then turn around and help their younger siblings bring those ideas to life. You would be amazed at what can happen when you simply provide the materials and step back.

Weaving It Into Family Life

If your family has a reading time together, that is a natural place to bring in a little dress-up magic. When you are reading a fiction book, stop at an exciting moment in the chapter and act it out. Use your box of fabric squares. You don’t need to do this every time you read together, but every now and again it adds a spark of fun that everyone remembers. This is another place where teens, given the chance, will often surprise you by jumping in to help the younger ones.

If a dedicated dress-up activity doesn’t feel right for your family, there are smaller ways to bring the same spirit in. Tell an interesting story about a historical figure or an ancestor at dinner, and let your littles act it out when the meal is done. Read together as a family, and then when finished, let the younger kids play out what they heard. The idea is simply this: mix their natural love of play with a story worth telling, and learning happens almost without anyone noticing.

From One Family Who Tried It

My friend decided to experiment with some of these ideas, and here is what she shared with me afterward:

“Thank you, Mary Ann! I tried this today. We are reading The Wizard of Oz. Of course, they all wanted to be Dorothy, but eventually they settled on at least one scarecrow. One of the Dorothys wanted to have a Greek-style costume, so she made up a side story to go with that. Thanks for a great idea — it will be fun to use for future reading too!”  Sarah

Play and learn. That’s how children do it best. Don’t be afraid to mix their natural love of make-believe with your inspiration and your stories.

The results, as Sarah discovered, can be truly magical.

Finding Your Two Mites

My sister Cindy has a job caring for a man with dementia. As I know well, this can be an overwhelming and consuming responsibility. Here was her text to me:

“Mary, I need advice. Taking care of D. is draining me. I didn’t go to the temple all week. I’d leave his house, and I had nothing left. He wants to be with me constantly. When I’m cooking his food, he stands right next to me, and I have to move away. He asks me what he should do about everything. It’s exhausting.”

After some pondering, because I do know firsthand what this is like, here was my response: “No matter what our current mission, we can survive and even thrive, but we must revive.”

Watching over others truly is a mission, whether it’s caring for an elderly person with dementia, several toddlers, a house full of teens, or navigating a work environment. When we take on the task of teaching, guiding, nurturing, loving, and serving others, it’s a mission, and an important one that impacts the world beyond the walls of our home. But caring for and interacting with others can be challenging.

Most of the time, I take Mom on errands with me when I would rather be alone. She loves riding in the car, even though she can’t recall going five minutes after we return home. But in the moment, she’s satisfied and happy. The challenge is that every few minutes she asks the same question: “What town is this?” or makes the same observations: “Isn’t it interesting what people do to their yards?” or “Aren’t the mountains beautiful?”

Those of you raising children know exactly what I’m talking about: Mom, I can’t find my shoes. Where are my Legos? Can I have a snack? Why can’t Jimmy come over? And so it goes. Or the opposite, wondering if your teens will ever talk to you and let you know how they’re doing and what they’re doing. It can be exhausting. And what about maintaining peace at work when someone is having a hard day?

My mother sits quietly in her room much of the time, often sitting with her eyes closed or her head in her hands. This requires that I help her engage in some way. It can take as little as saying, “Mom, crochet,” or as much as walking her outside for a while.  My husband Don requires frequent care as well. But if I look, I can find time to rest. But do I?

You, as mothers, know what this is like too. Your littles are busy playing for 30 minutes without fighting, or running around the backyard having fun. Your teens might be napping or off with friends. There is a lull at work. Often in these less hectic moments, instead of resting and being still, we do what needs to be done: dinner prep, laundry, finally getting to the disgusting bathroom, and so forth. Even though we aren’t wrangling kids or others, we are still busy working and keeping an ear out.

Thursday at 8 am, after being on the go since 6:15, I finally knelt to pray. Just as I was finishing, I heard Don calling from the living room. His feet, which were soaking in a special water bath, were done, and he needed help — no time to continue kneeling quietly and listening. No woman I know is immune from these types of interruptions.

So how do we manage? How do we stay calm, feel peace, and be happy despite what life really is? We have to find ways to revive, and for most of us in this season of life, they need to be simple, manageable, and only use small moments of time.

What Fills You Up

Over the years, ideas have come to my mind, some still useful and others that fell by the wayside and were replaced. It’s been a process, not a one-time thing. Here is what I currently do to center myself, reduce stress, find reasons to smile, and feel calm and happy.

Singing. Each evening I sit in the bathroom, my bedroom, or go outside and sing. I love singing. I do it with vim and vigor and never worry about who might hear. It’s wonderful and rejuvenating.

Reading in stolen moments. I always have a book in my bathroom. I visit this room several times a day, and at each visit I read at least one paragraph, sometimes half a page. I love reading; it feels fun, and fun is always restorative.

Getting up early. Although I resisted the impression for several years, I now get up at 6 to 6:30 am. I have found that I can have at least thirty minutes to an hour by myself before another voice is heard. No questions, no needs to fill.

A morning routine that says, “I matter.” Early in the morning, I have a routine that sets me up for the day. I pray, take my nutrition, and get dressed. I put on a small amount of powdered blush and lipstick and give myself a spritz of a perfume I love. I hadn’t done either in years, but when I began this year, it wasn’t for anyone else but me. They are simply small ways of saying, “Mary, I love you.” It’s amazing what tiny acts of self-care can do for the soul. I write three things in my gratitude journal and read my daily affirmations. Focusing on gratitude and reminding myself of who I am matters deeply as the day revs up, the frustrations increase, and the weariness sets in.

Friends who really know me. I have several friends I connect with regularly. I have lunch with one every three months. We live far apart, drive quite a way to meet in the middle, and want to make it special. I schedule calls with others once a month to once every three months. I had one of these calls last week and another this week. What a gift and a relief. I can share hard things. They listen, have good ideas, and we laugh a lot. It’s deeply restorative.

My nightly shower. I shower most nights. I pray for someone else, then feel the water, enjoy the silence, and let the day go. It’s something I have done since I was sixteen and has never lost its power to soothe my soul, return me to calm, and center me as a daughter of God.

My next-day worksheet. Each evening I write down whatever is cluttering my mind on my next-day worksheet. Someone asked me recently if I wake up at night thinking about all the appointments, doctors, and problems coming up. I was able to say, honestly, never. It’s all on a sheet waiting for me in the morning, and I am free to relax and sleep.

Listening and responding. All day long, thoughts come to my mind: that wasn’t okay, try this instead, stop and finish tomorrow, sit down, you’re a silly woman so smile. I believe these thoughts come from God because I am loved and need the help. Following them has made an enormous difference.

None of these things are managed perfectly. I may miss a shower because it’s just too late. I may not read every time I visit the bathroom because someone is calling for me. Not everything in my morning routine gets done every day. But I manage well enough, and that’s why I’ve been able to do what I’m doing for nine years without falling apart.

Look Back to Find What You’ve Lost

My granddaughter Lizzy is a painter and does wonderfully creative work. She has had her paintings in several shows. Recently, she lamented in a Facebook post that she hasn’t painted a single stroke since her daughter Ila was born several months ago. I could relate.

I used to sing constantly, the songs my mother sang from the 1940s and the music I grew up with in the 50s and 60s. I sang while gardening, cleaning, and caring for my kids. When I wasn’t singing, I played music. Then somewhere in the busyness of caring for my mother and Don, I stopped. No music at all. As I have shared, I finally began singing again in the last year and a half, nudged back to it by a quiet thought I believe came from God.

Since writing my recent article on stillness and making space for yourself, I’ve begun playing music again, the music I grew up with and sang as a busy mother of seven. I have found it exhilarating. I hadn’t realized how much I missed something I had quietly let go.

As you look for what rejuvenates you, think back. What did you love and let go of in the busyness of parenting, working, grandparenting? What might still be waiting for you to return to it?

Your Two Mites

As I wrote about recently, the widow’s mite teaches us that what we give from the heart, even when it feels small, is enough. My list will not work for everyone. I am an Upholder with a busy and energetic nature, so this approach works for me. You will need to determine what works for you. Then make a list. Be clear in your own mind about how you’re going to revive each day, regardless of your energy and temperament. A written list of your ideas can show you whether you’re on track or whether some honest pondering is needed.

We all bring what we have. Some days it’s more, and some days it’s two small mites. But given consistently and from the heart, it’s enough for those we serve and for ourselves.

We can survive and even thrive, but we must find ways to revive.

Stop Fixing the Cookies!

When you’re engaged in a project, what matters to you? For many adults, it’s the outcome. We want the cookies to taste good, the tomatoes to grow large and red, the dress to look store-bought, and the painting to be perfect. I know that doesn’t apply to every adult, but it does apply to many of us.

When children are engaged in a project, what matters to them? For the most part, it’s the process. Have you ever watched a five-year-old paint? They like digging the brush deep in the paint and swirling it around. They like lots of paint on the brush. Then they swipe it onto the paper. They smile at the brightness of the color. They aren’t usually concerned if the red bleeds into the green or if the red turns the yellow a tad orange at the edges. It’s the act of painting they care about. And when it’s done, no matter how it turned out, they are happy and proud.

We can increase our joy when working with children if we let go of the outcome. The act of creating is what children love. It’s what makes learning fun. Our job is to provide the materials and the inspiration. Theirs is to create the outcome.

A Party is a Perfect Venue

Any time we can encourage creative exploration, we are on the path to helping our children gain confidence and learn new things. Even a child’s party is a perfect venue for allowing a child to create without worrying about the outcome.

My mom gave me some amazing parties. I recall that in my seventh-grade year, I had a taffy party. I had seven or eight friends over, and my mom taught us to make pulled taffy. It turned out well. It was so much fun. We had a really good time, and each girl had a gift, a plate of taffy, to take home. My mom showed us what to do and then stood back and let us do it.

I followed my mom’s footsteps. One year we had a dress-up party. I collected dress-ups from thrift stores, and when the children arrived, they each designed an outfit. Then we had a wonderful parade around the block. I supplied the materials, and the kids did the rest. I didn’t help them put their outfits together. The outcome wasn’t the priority; creating was.

Another time I helped the kids make sugar cookies from scratch. They frosted and decorated them with small candies, raisins, and other edible treats. Then the cookies were packed into small boxes to take home. I didn’t fix any cookies that didn’t look perfect. It was tempting because what their parents would see might reflect on me. But I shut out that story and let the kids create.

When my youngest daughter was turning eleven, we had a formal tea party. The guests came in their best dresses and were served by mothers who had been enlisted to help. The ice cream was cut into little teapots using a teapot cookie cutter, and each girl had her own miniature cake. They were encouraged to converse. The other moms and I made ourselves scarce and allowed the girls to figure out how a tea party worked. They got the hang of it, and soon there was an ample amount of giggling and chatting going on in the living room. Each girl went home with a miniature tea set purchased at the dollar store. Kate said it was her favorite party.

One year my son had a relay party. All the activities were relay games. We found lots of ideas by asking his grandparents about games they remembered, games I recalled from my school days, and books from the library. The instructions were given, and then the adults sat on the sidelines and let the kids hash it out. They had a wonderful time.

What Would I Do Differently?

Although I stood back and let the children at the party do their thing, here is what I would have done differently if I could go back. I put together wonderfully creative activities, but I did all the planning, just as my mother had done. Wouldn’t it have been a great learning and growing experience to sit down with the birthday girl or boy and plan it together? I bet often they would have loved my idea. Occasionally they might have had a completely different idea, which would have required me to step back and change course, not always an easy thing. But doing that would have helped them work on skills they would need as adults, rather than just showing up at a party and having fun. Think of all the learning that could happen when a child and parent plan something together.

There is real value in stepping back and allowing our children to create without worrying about the outcome. I once read that the greatest teachers replace themselves. When children feel courageous and excited to venture out, learn new things, and then use what they’ve learned to bring joy to others, that’s something worth celebrating.

Any time we foster the skills of creation, thinking, and problem-solving, we are helping our children on the path to becoming capable, confident adults.

Drunken Snails and Other Miracles

When I moved from Montana to Utah in my late 50s, something stopped me in my tracks – the realization that I was responsible for my responses, no matter the circumstances or the people involved. This hit me hard. I couldn’t blame others for how I felt! I was mad and honestly didn’t want it to be true. But I am a learner, and the thought wouldn’t leave.

The Quest

I began a quest to learn more about receiving good into my life. I had grown up believing that everything was hard and a struggle. I was done with that story. One of my early mentors was Leslie Householder. I read her book The Jackrabbit Factor and its sequel, Portal to Genius, and attended several classes. What I learned changed everything. If I had faith, believed in myself, and kept a handle on my thoughts, miracles could and would happen.

I wanted all seven of my kids to understand what I was learning. Without meaning to, I had taught them through example that life was hard and a struggle. We live how we were taught. I wanted something better for my kids. I wanted them to have control over their thoughts and the results that come from holding to the belief that we are creators, not victims, and that we can have miracles.

Andrew was twenty-nine at the time. He had just lost a job he had given his heart and soul to and gotten very little back. He was feeling down about it. Every time we talked, and that wasn’t often, I asked him if he had read The Jackrabbit Factor. I knew it would help him see things in a more positive light. I have to admit I nagged just a bit!

One morning he called me and talked for about 40 minutes. This was out of the ordinary, as our calls usually lasted 10 minutes, with me asking questions and him answering with a yes or no. He wanted to share what he was learning and say thanks. Andrew is a quiet man and not demonstrative, but I could hear the happiness in his voice. He was excited and grateful. He even told me he was glad I had nagged!

Andrew had been practicing the principles Leslie taught, and they were working for him. He was still looking for a new job. Then his car broke down. For several months it just sat there. After reading the book, he set a goal to get it fixed and changed his thinking about it. Within a few days he got two calls, offers of help and less expensive parts than he had expected. The car got fixed. He also found work that suited him well.

What About Those Drunken Snails?

Here’s another fun example of the changes in Andrew’s way of thinking. Simple yet powerful.

He is an avid gardener. He had a very small yard, at the time, which he tended with loving care. One year he planted sunflowers which the snails promptly ate. He planted them again the next year. To ward off the snails, he put pans of beer in the garden. One night there was a huge storm. He was sitting in the living room worrying about his 1″ high sunflower seedlings. He had this thought, “Last year the snails got them, and this year it’s the storm.” Then he caught himself and remembered what he had learned from reading The Jackrabbit Factor. He changed his mind chatter to, “It isn’t morning yet, so I’m not going to sit here and worry about what hasn’t happened. They will be just fine.” When he went out to check on the seedlings in the morning, he told me that not only were they just fine, there seemed to be twice as many sprouts and the garden was filled with very happy, drunken snails!

This experience with Andrew happened in 2010. At the beginning of that year, I had made a list of things I wanted in my life. They weren’t physical things but quality-of-life changes. For them to happen would require miracles. Because of the principles I had learned, I wrote them down, read them regularly, and waited for opportunities. One of the items on my list was that Andrew and I would have more meaningful and regular conversations. The book and his experiences opened a doorway for us, and our communication increased.

We all are who we are when we begin. Our job is to grow and to help our children see, by example, a better way. We can teach them as we learn. Our mistakes are not permanent. We can impact even our grown children if it takes us that long to figure things out — and sometimes it does. A good parent never stops working on becoming a better person, and in doing so they impact their children for good. I mentored parents for over a decade and a half, and the one thing most of them needed to hear was this — it’s never too late.

You can learn, grow, and be the example your child needs. It’s never too late!

Two Mites and a Moment of Stillness

I had the privilege of cleaning in the LDS Syracuse Temple. It was enjoyable because of the building’s beauty, peace, and quiet. It was also wonderful because of my working partner, Melissa. We had a deep, interesting, and moving conversation about learning to slow down and being still.

This is something I’ve been tutored in for over a decade, but it still isn’t a habit for me. I’m a mover, shaker, and finisher. Stopping and stillness are not part of my natural energy.

So, what has my tutoring in stopping and being still looked like?

When working on a project such as organizing the garage or simply cleaning the bathroom, I occasionally have the thought to stop, to finish later. I know the thought isn’t coming from me because I’m a finisher. I look heavenward and think, “I could finish this!” The next thought is often, “It will wait. Go and….” Then something that matters more will come to mind: check on Maggie, see if Jodie needs help, hug Don, touch a grandchild passing through, see what my mom is doing, call a friend, or sit and rest.

And here is where an insight Melissa had fits in beautifully. She compared our experiences to the parable of the widow’s mite — what we give from the heart, even if it’s just two small coins’ worth of effort, is enough. Maybe all I got done was cleaning several shelves in the garage or just the toilet bowl. It’s enough, and it will hold until I can give more without sacrificing the things that matter most: rest, connection with a child or spouse, caring for another person, etc. (The Parable of the Widow’s Mite is found in Mark 12:41-44 and Luke 21:1-4)

Stopping and being still is valuable for many reasons. When we stop, even for a few moments, we can unravel problems, come up with solutions, rewrite our stories, and make wiser decisions. We can really see another person — a child or spouse, a friend or neighbor — and let them know we see them. We can appreciate the beauty around us, even if we’re feeling grief, sadness, anger, or loneliness. Stillness brings a measure of peace regardless of what’s happening in life. Over time, this practice of slowing down and being still leads to better health and a sense of well-being we might otherwise miss.

My favorite scripture has long been “Be still and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10. It’s been a favorite since my early adulthood. In my heart I’ve always known that stillness, stopping for a few minutes, was a valuable gift I could give myself if I would.

Slow Down

This past Wednesday, I was introduced to the song “Slow Down” by Sissel, a singer from Norway.

In the midst of my confusion
In the time of desperate need
When I am thinking not too clearly
A gentle voice does intercede

In the time of tribulation
When I’m feeling so unsure
When things are pressing in about me
Comes a gentle voice so still, so pure

Slow down, slow down, be still, my child
Be still and wait, on the Spirit of the Lord
Slow down and hear His voice
And know that He is God

You may have another view of God and life, but I’ll bet these words still stir your heart as a parent, homemaker, working woman, neighbor, friend, etc. We are all busy.

An Incredible and Moving Thought

Monday morning, I got up at 6 am. I did my morning routine to center myself for the day. I took care of my husband’s health list, dressed, fed, and helped my mom with her needs, helped with Maggie, and so on. Around noon, I was in the bathroom resting, LOL, and I had this thought:

“Mary Ann, it isn’t what you do, but the pace at which you do it.”

That is why this song, and my favorite verse of scripture, touched me so deeply this past week. I know it’s important to be still, to slow the pace of life, even for a few minutes.

I’m working to be still, to slow down during the day, to sit with no agenda even for a few minutes: to begin my affirmations with purposeful silence and not rush through them, to intentionally give myself time to think and hear after prayer. I’ve been experimenting with sitting on the patio, looking out on the world, and not feeling pressed to move to the next thing for at least 5 to 10 minutes. : ) I’m managing it fairly well, and I’m looking forward to how this changes me, because I know it will.

And that brings me back to Melissa and the widow’s mite. Some people have learned to slow down and be still; it comes naturally to them, or they’ve cultivated it over time. For me, and for many of you, I bring my two mites, because right now that’s all I have, and as Christ and the widow taught us, it is enough.

If you’ve had experiences with stillness, I would love to hear about them. I can use the ideas and motivation, and I’m sure many of you can too.

Leave a comment on the website and bless us all as we learn and grow together.

 

Spark Station Letters: Keeping Kids in Your Heart (and You in Theirs)

When my daughter Marie’s children were young, I wanted to stay connected between visits. We only saw each other a couple of times a year, and I wanted more than that. While working on a presentation about the Spark Station, the idea came to me: why not write Spark Station Letters?

The idea was simple. I would write letters to my grandchildren sharing something that interested me — a word, a historical figure, a current event, a family story. Something that might spark a conversation in their home and keep us woven into each other’s lives.

It worked beautifully. Marie told me the kids were all ears when she read the letters aloud. They’d re-read them on car trips. She saved each one in a separate book for each child. She also mentioned that I was frequently sharing values and teaching life lessons — which I hadn’t even realized I was doing.

A Spark Station Letter doesn’t require much. Pick a topic that genuinely interests you, tie it to the child’s life when you can, share what it means to you personally, and write to the child’s age and interests. A letter to a five-year-old might be half a page. A letter to a teenager can go longer. Research if you need to — I usually limited myself to fifteen or thirty minutes of preparation. The letters don’t have to be long. They have to be real.

Here’s a sampling of letters I sent over the years. They show the range of topics, the values woven in, and how personal a letter can feel — even across the miles.

What Is an Onomatopoeia?

To Lizzy, age 5 – My twenty-year-old, Kate, had introduced me to the word during a conversation in the kitchen. We had fun coming up with examples, and I thought Lizzy would love it too.

Dear Lizzy,
Do you like words? Well, I do. I like knowing what words mean and how to spell them. You are just learning to write and spell, and I am excited for you because reading and writing are so fun.

I learned a new word recently. Your Aunt Kate told me about it. It was onomatopoeia. Whew, that is a big word! It is pronounced on-uh-mat-uh-pee-uh. An onomatopoeia is a word that sounds like what it describes. The buzz of a bee — isn’t that the sound they actually make! The hiss of a snake. The tinkle of a bell. Or the sound of a chickadee — that is actually what they say, chickadee. Funny, huh! You and your sisters can come up with some more.

Words are fun, and I hope that you will let me know all the onomatopoeias you can find. Keep reading. Keep writing. And for goodness ‘ sake, write to me!
Love, Grandma

Two months after I sent that letter, twenty-year-old Kate went to visit Marie. When she arrived, five-year-old Lizzy announced, “I know what onomatopoeia means!” and gave examples. The seven-year-old proudly added, “But I know how to spell it!” That’s what a Spark Station Letter can do.

Proverbs and Genealogy

To Ashley, age 10 – I was taking a family history class and had just found eighteen relatives at the Salt Lake City genealogy library. I wanted to share that excitement — and teach something along the way.

Dear Ashley,
I’ve been taking a fun class called Family History. It’s all about finding your old grandmas and grandpas, uncles and aunts, and people like that. After two classes, I went to the big genealogy library in Salt Lake City and found eighteen relatives. When I got home, grandpa and I found another one.

I was thinking about my grandma today. She would be your great, great-grandma. Her name was Rozelia Wolfley Cazier. She used to say, “A stitch in time saves nine.” Do you know what that means? When I was your age, I couldn’t figure it out. Now I know that if something is torn and you fix it right away, it takes fewer stitches than if you wait until the hole gets bigger.

This is called a proverb. There is a whole book in the Bible called Proverbs, and there are many sayings like this one in it. A proverb is an old, familiar saying handed down over many years. When you hear a proverb, it is a bit like hearing advice from an ancestor.

Here is a proverbs game for you. See if you can figure out what these mean, then send me what you think:
1. The grass is always greener on the other side.
2. Haste makes waste.
3. If the shoe fits, wear it.
4. A fool and his money are soon parted.

I hope you share these with your family and work together to figure them out. Ask your mom if there are any proverbs your family always says. I always say, “Better late than never.” My grandpa always said, “Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face” — he’d say it when I was mad at someone and wanted to get back at them. It means don’t take an action in anger that will hurt you more than the person you’re mad at.

I love you to the moon and back.
Love, Grandma

The US Census

To Aubrey, age 10 – One year, I helped gather the census in Utah. It was a topic worth sharing.

Dear Aubrey,
I am working a few hours a day for the US Census to help pay for Aunt Kate’s wedding.
The census has been taken every ten years since 1790. The word for “every ten years” is decennial. The Constitution requires a population count so Congress can decide how many representatives each state gets. Some states have more than others because more people live there. That helps people have an equal say in government. Utah could have had another representative in Congress if it had just 800 more people counted ten years ago. The census matters!

Now, the census office is open all the time and costs a lot of money, which bugs some people. And some people don’t want to answer all the questions because they don’t trust the government. All the houses I went to were willing to give me the information, except one. Even though he didn’t trust the government and wouldn’t answer my questions, he was very nice about it.

The census information is also used in genealogy. You can look at old census records and find your relatives that way. The information I am collecting this year won’t be made public for 72 years, so I will never be able to use it for genealogy, and you will have to live to be 82 to use it!

I love you and hope school is going well.
Love, Grandma

Slavery and Freedom

To Lizzy, age 8 – Kate had to read a book for school about a slave girl in America. I read it too and wrote to Lizzy about it — connecting it to a local caucus night I had just attended for the first time.

Hi Lizzy,
Kate had to read a book for school about a slave girl in America, and I read it too. It was a very sad book. It is a terrible thing when families are broken up and people have their agency taken away. Sometimes I forget what a gift it is to be able to choose where to live, what work to do, where to travel, and whether to get married and have a family. Slaves couldn’t do any of those things. If people didn’t like you and wanted to treat you badly, they could, and you couldn’t do anything about it. One of the worst things was that you couldn’t protect your children. If the master wanted to sell your babies away, he could, and many times they did.

The girl I read about hid in a crawl space for over seven years just to be free. There was no heat in the winter, no air conditioning in the summer, and she could never stand up. Wow. She really wanted to be free.

That is why it is so important to vote. Last Tuesday was Caucus night. I had never attended a caucus before, but I went this year. People said they saw more people there than they had in many years — they were worried about their freedoms. When you are old enough, be sure to register and never miss an election. So many people have been willing to fight and die for that freedom.
Love, Grandma

Cherokee Indians

To Ashley, age 11 – There is an old story in our family about a great, great, great-grandfather who married a Cherokee princess. No record of it exists — just a family legend. But it gave me a wonderful reason to write.

Dear Ashley,
I’ve been doing genealogy, and there is an old story in our family about someone who married an Indian princess from the Cherokee Nation. There is no record of it, just a family legend — but I think it would be wonderful if it were true.

The Cherokee were farmers and hunters who lived in the mountains of the southeast United States. They were called one of the “Five Civilized Tribes” because they had adopted so many of the settlers’ ways. They had developed a written language, a government, and a newspaper. They helped fight in the War of 1812 and had the Bible translated into their language.

None of that mattered to the government, which said they had to give up their lands and move to Arkansas. Many fought against it. Then there was a gold rush in Georgia — the first gold rush in the United States — and the settlers were determined to have those lands. President Martin Van Buren ordered the militia to drive the people out. The exodus of over 800 miles is called “The Trail of Tears” because it was so terrible. Over 4,000 people died.

Doesn’t that remind you of the Mormon Pioneers, expelled from Nauvoo in the middle of winter and made to march so far in the snow? They too had to give up all their lands. But they held on.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the legend were true, and we carried some Cherokee blood?
Love, Grandma

(P.S. to my readers — Several years ago, I did DNA testing. No Native American bloodlines. The story was truly a legend. Sad.)

Nelson Mandela

To Kane, age 13- Kane had recently discovered how wonderful reading was, and I wanted to share something big with him.

Dear Kane,
Last night, grandpa and I went to see a movie called “Invictus.” I hope you will see it. I think when we come face to face with greatness, we become greater ourselves.

When I was fourteen, there was much trouble in South Africa, and Mandela was sent to prison. I heard about it but didn’t think much of it. Since then, I have heard about him over and over. He spent 27 years in prison and was released in 1990 — before you were even born.

Mandela was an anti-apartheid activist. Apartheid was a system of legal racial segregation in South Africa that gave minority white rule and curtailed the rights of the majority Black population. Education, medical care, and public services were all segregated. There was a great deal of unrest and violence. It was frightening even to read about as a girl.

After 27 years in prison, you might think Mandela would want revenge. He didn’t. Like George Washington, he wanted his country to have peace — to become strong and united. He put away his own grief and loss and worked toward that. He used rugby to bring about an extraordinary change. I don’t want to spoil the movie; it was so good.

Victor Frankl was a Jewish doctor who survived a concentration camp and wrote a book called “Man’s Search for Meaning.” One of the most powerful ideas I have ever embraced came from that book: no one can take away how you choose to respond. They can take everything else — your food, your home, your dignity, your freedom — but they cannot take that. That is what Mandela did. They had taken everything from him. But when all was said and done, he chose how to act.

Email and tell me what you are reading.
Love, Grandma

A Commonplace Book

To Kane, age 14 – Kane had been reading voraciously, and I wanted to share my own love of learning — and teach him a tool for remembering what he read.

Dear Kane,
Do you know who George Wythe was? He signed the Declaration of Independence and was America’s first law professor. But his greatest legacy was mentoring: two presidents, two Supreme Court justices, over twenty senators, governors, and judges. One of his students was Thomas Jefferson.

How did he do it? He asked Jefferson what he wanted to learn, helped him build a course of study, and then had him read, write, and discuss. Jefferson taught himself — with a mentor and the great books — and became one of the most educated men in American history. When President Kennedy hosted a group of Nobel Prize winners, he said, “This is the most extraordinary collection of talent and human knowledge ever gathered at the White House — with the possible exception of when Thomas Jefferson dined alone.” I love that quote.

Jefferson kept what he called a Commonplace Book — a journal of what he studied and learned each day. I was thinking about the wonderful books you’ve been reading and thought you might like to keep one, too. Write a bit about what you read, and your thoughts about it. This practice helps you really learn and remember.

I have two mentors myself — one helps me think more deeply, the other helps me stay on track with major projects. They both assign me books to read. I’m reading about six books at once right now. When I complained to one of them that I wasn’t getting enough out of my reading, she said flatly, “It’s because you aren’t doing any work to remember. You just read.” She was right. Now I keep a Commonplace Book of my own — and I am learning and remembering so much more.

Let me know how you like the books I sent you. I’d especially like your thoughts on The Giver.
Love, Grandma

These letters span several years and different ages, simple topics and complex ones, silly words and serious history. What they share is this: they kept me in front of my grandchildren and them in front of me. They passed on values I didn’t even realize I was teaching. They sparked conversations in homes I couldn’t be present in.

You don’t have to be a grandparent to write a Spark Station Letter. Any adult who loves a child — an aunt, an uncle, a family friend, a mentor — can use them. All it takes is something that interests you and a child you want to stay connected to.

Get connected. Share your Sparks.

P.S. for my readers – So you know, most of these letters have been shortened. Several were quite a bit longer, but I need to make the article readable. : )

I Thought I Had Committed (I Hadn’t)

In January, my daughter Jodie gathered a group of friends to work on having a better outcome in 2026. We listened to an interesting YouTube video by Daniel Pink. The premise was that structure beats willpower. We each determined what we regretted from 2025 and how we could do better in 2026 to avoid repeating our mistakes.

My regret was not getting my writing in until the last minute. I regretted that because it fed this old story — there is no time in my life for me — and it led to feelings of resentment toward those I care for. I placed my lack of consistency on them and their needs.

We also worked on choosing a priority goal. Of course, mine was to write every day, as consistently as possible, even if only for a few minutes, or to continue even if interrupted several times. I wanted to take responsibility for my choices and stop blaming and complaining.

Here’s something I shared early on in one of our conversation threads: “I have a hard time doing my own things even when I try. I do my personal morning routine, but it’s interrupted, and I usually don’t get any writing done. For the last four days, I rarely sat down, and tonight I didn’t even get to eat my dinner until 8 pm. No TV, no internet, no reading, no loafing, just serving and doing what’s necessary. I oversee what I choose to do, but I’m obviously doing something less effectively than needed.”

Jodie, our discussion leader, asked me if I had articulated my most important goals for the year. My reply was, “Not well.” After careful thought, this is what I decided was my most important goal for 2026 — to write every day, so I wasn’t pushed up against a deadline, feeling resentful, and hanging onto that old, untrue story.

As we wound down the class, Jodie — my daughter and the discussion leader — decided we would be good accountability partners. Interestingly, Jodie had the same goal: to write consistently. We checked in with each other daily for two weeks. On some days our writing got 10 minutes, and on other days an hour.

At the end of the two weeks, I realized that it had become easier to write daily. I was able to write every day except Sunday, which I take off, and I was more prepared as my publishing deadline loomed. What had happened? Nothing in my life changed — not the schedule, the interruptions, the people, nothing. If anything, it had gotten more intense with Don’s fifth surgery on February 23rd. I had to think about this for some time because nothing had changed except that I was writing daily. My resentment had faded. I had stopped blaming my family and circumstances. What had changed?

For Me, it Wasn’t Structure Over Willpower but Commitment Over Intention

When I finally sorted it out, I had to laugh. It was something I know in my core and am very good at: making a commitment. I understand the importance of systems, or as Pink termed it, structure. I mentored mothers on workable and successful systems for over a decade.

I also understand the difference between intention and commitment. I had let life, complications, and caregiving overtake me. I hoped I could fit my writing in. I wanted to fit it in. I knew it mattered, not just to my readers, but to me. I seriously thought I was trying. But here is the crux: I had not continued in the commitment I had held before I became a full-time caregiver. I had consistently written, despite vacations, illness, schooling, etc., for years. But that earlier commitment had morphed into an intention, a desire, a hope. I felt serious. I cared deeply. But I was no longer committed to the task! It’s embarrassing to admit.

Such a Simple Difference — Commitment vs. Intention

From decades of experience, I know when I’ve committed and when I haven’t. It rings in my heart. For example, I’ve discovered after some research, prayer, and thoughtful pondering that some of my physical problems are caused by sugar. During a prayer, I told God I intended to stop eating sugar. You all know I cook almost everything from scratch and use only Monk Fruit and no wheat flour. I’ve done this for over five years to help Don with his health issues. However, three years ago, I began having a harder time staying on the sugar-free wagon. After my hip surgery last September, it became even harder. I was weary and ate food that others provided. I still did a ton of cooking, but the few months that others cooked for our family put me back on the sugar wagon. I’m sure God smiled when I told him I was giving it up. He knew I hadn’t committed. He knows me.

Over 30 years ago, I had to give up all pork and chocolate. They cause serious mood swings. I’ve researched the components of both, and they share some things that cause the swings. When I realized these foods were not good for me, and after a great deal of prayer, I made a commitment about pork. It took several more months and some experimentation when it came to chocolate. 🙂 However, for over 30 years, I have not budged on these two things, not once! This is where I need to go with sugar.

It’s where I need to go again with my writing, despite the major changes in my lifestyle. The class was in January. Jodie and I began holding each other accountable in February. In the next few months, I didn’t miss one day, not one. Why? Because it changed from an intention — a need, a want, a hope — to a commitment to myself.

Because of my way of being, when I commit, it’s usually a done deal. I rarely need outside accountability. It doesn’t work this way for everyone. We all have different personalities, and some of us are better able to commit than others. But I’ve seen even those who find it hard to make a commitment to themselves — and then hold true — do it, if it matters enough and if they understand themselves.

A helpful book to read about your way of being is Gretchen Rubin’s The Four Tendencies. She categorizes people into four groups: Upholders, Rebels, Obligers, and Questioners.

The book explains how understanding your tendency helps you make better decisions, form habits, and improve your life by working with your nature, not against it. It reveals why some people easily meet deadlines while others struggle with self-imposed goals.

Upholders meet both outer expectations (e.g., work deadlines) and inner expectations (e.g., New Year’s resolutions) easily. They value discipline and structure.

Questioners question all expectations and will only follow them if they make sense. They resist outer expectations unless they can justify them internally.

Obligers meet outer expectations readily but struggle with inner ones. They need outside accountability to follow through on their own goals.

Rebels resist all expectations, both outer and inner. They value freedom and individuality and need to feel they are making their own choices.

I’m an Upholder, and my shared experience this year with these other women showed me I hadn’t committed. Jodie, as an Obliger, needs external accountability. Since we are no longer holding each other accountable, she has struggled a bit and has had to find ways to manage her tendency. When we understand our way of responding, we navigate better. Don, my husband, is a Questioner and needs to understand why. Knowing this about him helps me help him.

It isn’t useful to beat yourself up when you find it hard to commit and stick with it. Instead, understand yourself so you can find ways to make it work. You don’t need to read the whole book — just take the easy quiz. Then accept yourself where you are and learn to work with it.

Back to the sugar. I realized that even though I can usually hold myself accountable, in this difficult season, I needed some outside accountability. I had an appointment with my naturopath last week, and we talked about sugar, and I committed. This week, she reached out to see how I was doing. I was glad I could say, “Making progress.”

The Results of My Writing Commitment

I manage that old story better — there is no room in my life for me. There is if I make it happen. The story still surfaces, and maybe always will, but I can rewrite it quickly. I no longer panic over repeated interruptions (well, not as often). I know that my consistent effort will pay off. I am experiencing it.

I’ve stopped blaming circumstances and caregiving for my lack of getting it done. If I miss a day, I know I chose to miss. Again, this takes daily practice, but I am managing better.

I feel less anxious and resentful. I’m still a work in progress, but I am so much calmer, kinder, more tender, and on top of my deadlines than I was.

Am I perfect? I’ve missed some days, but if I make it 90% of the time, that’s a HUGE win — and I’ve been doing that. It can still be only 10 minutes. I’m still repeatedly interrupted when I sit at the computer, but realizing why I was struggling, taking responsibility, and giving up blame has been life-changing. Now, the blame is where it belongs: on my shoulders. That can be irritating, but taking responsibility feels better than being a victim.

What is Your Commitment?

My friend, Mary Black, and I visited a month ago. I shared my experience with her. I told her it was embarrassing that I was struggling with something I understand and have taught. Here was her response: “Oh, I am feeling that right in my soul. That’s exactly what I needed to hear today, Mary Ann, so thank you, thank you.” This is something we all deal with. As you look at the places in your life that aren’t working, could a lack of commitment be the issue?

If you’re struggling, think carefully. Have you committed to whatever it is — being calmer, touching your kids more, keeping a family system going, accomplishing a goal, learning a language, creating firmer family relationships, being a better housekeeper, getting rid of stuff, overcoming a weakness, and so on?

There is a difference between intention and commitment.

The Pink Refrigerator – A Book About a Spark Station, Of Sorts!

I received this email in the early days of teaching parents how to use The Spark Station.

“You may have seen this. It’s a picture book called The Pink Refrigerator by Tim Egan. This illustrates the secret of the Spark Station in an inspiring way. A junk dealer who likes to do–not much–finds a pink refrigerator that holds something new for him every day, and he gets excited about life and learning, closes shop, and sets off to explore the world. I thought you might enjoy this if you hadn’t seen it. Happy reading, Cathy D.”

I was intrigued, so I went to the library and found the book. Cathy’s description was spot on. The Pink Refrigerator is the Spark Station. It’s a beautiful story about how we can inspire children to explore things that might not have occurred to them before. You don’t know what greatness is hiding inside a child until they can explore options.

When I was a girl, one of my favorite summer activities was to cover large rocks with thick mud. These were my ‘cakes,’ and I took great pains to decorate them with flowers, leaves, and grass. I spent considerable time doing this activity, and I was inordinately proud of the results. To the casual onlooker, it may have seemed as if I was wasting time. P. S. This would make a fun family activity!

When I was in 9th grade, I saw a project the seniors were doing in Home Economics, Panorama Sugar Eggs. I was taking Home Economics and wanted to make one, but it was reserved for seniors. I knew that I wouldn’t be in the same school when I was a senior. We moved a lot! So, I bravely asked the Home Economics teacher if I could have the directions. I must have seemed sincere or desperate because she gave them to me. : )

I had none of the required tools. I had no help, no experience. But I knew without doubt that I could do this project because I had made so many fabulous “cakes” in the past. Don’t ask me how I could think that frosting and sugar were anything like rocks and mud, but frankly, I did. I had learned that I could make stuff! I did make a panorama egg. It wasn’t very good, but I thought it was fantastic. I saw it years later, stored in my mom’s cedar chest. I cannot tell you how many children I have taught to do this project over the years. In fact, for the next 50+ years, I made beautiful “stuff” and taught my grands and other children to do the same.

It doesn’t matter what you put into the Spark Station, whether it’s in your home or traveling. The very act of opening it, anticipating something new, is all it takes to generate excitement and enthusiasm.

If you haven’t read the Pink Refrigerator, take a trip to the library. You’ll be glad you did, and I believe you’ll be inspired!

After reading the story, share it with a child you love. Have them write their own note about something they would like to know more about or learn how to do. It’s fun to see how excited children get about the activity! One group of children I worked with, who heard the story and did the activity, had ideas like these:
• learn to jump better
• play the flute
• skydive
• learn how to care for animals
• run a profitable business
• go to Brazil
• be a librarian

Just imagine where you could go with these ideas.

Spark Station here we come!!!