A few months ago, inspired by The Enchanted Earth blog, I had the bright idea to take pictures of heart shapes I found as I went through my daily life, blog about it and call it “Hidden Hearts.” Since then, how many heart photos did I take? Exactly zero. It seems I didn’t see heart shapes around me. Maybe my vision was faulty--I am terrible at those puzzles where you’re supposed to find the pictures within the picture, and not once have I ever seen the image embedded in one of those optical illusion posters. 

Still, I wasn’t quite ready to give up. Remembering this post, I decided to give it one last shot. I took my camera out into our yard. If I found some hearts, great. If not, I’d give up the idea and move on.

As I stepped out the back door, I realized there’s a heart shape hidden in our outdoor table and chair set.

That was OK, but what I really wanted was to find hearts in the natural world. And then I saw this one:

And this one:


And this one:


And this one:


(I also discovered a face in our grill controls:


...but that’s beside the point.)

Now that I was completely focused on them, it took me only a few minutes to find all of these. Well. Is there a take-away lesson? If you know me, of course there is: You find what you look for. Looking for good in others? You’ll find it. Expecting your feelings to be hurt? They will be.

Looking for love? It’s all around you.

Happy Valentine’s Day—may your life be filled with love.

Bonus heart:

There comes a time in the life of every teenage boy’s mother when she comes to the following realization: my child looks like a ragamuffin/street urchin/orphan and I need to take him shopping for clothes. This realization will send dread deep into her heart, as she realizes she will have to 1) find a time when both mother and son are available for shopping, 2) find a store that stocks affordable clothing for the impossibly tall and thin young man her son has become and 3) convince said young man that shopping for clothes is a necessary and required activity.

If you find yourself in this position, here are seven tips to help you survive your next shopping trip with your teenage son (these tips can also be applied to husbands):

Choose a time when nothing more interesting is going on. This will be nearly impossible since clothes shopping ranks with household chores in level of interest. You may have to ground him just so you can pull him away from his friends/the Xbox/Runescape.

Promise him lunch at his favorite restaurant. You’re just going to have to put up with the fact that his favorite restaurant is one you hate. You will either have to eat beforehand or find someplace acceptable nearby where you can buy take out.

Let him drive.

Once at the store, don’t express an opinion about the clothes on the racks until he does. Be noncommittal: “Here’s a blue shirt. What do you think?” Heaven forbid he try on something his mother says she likes. Even after he’s chosen something, be judicious with your praise. If you like it too much, suddenly he won’t. (The reverse is also true: if you hate it, don’t express that opinion, either, unless you want it to become the one thing he absolutely cannot live without.)

Fortify yourself with Starbucks (or other favorite treat).

Don’t try to shop for yourself, too. Never mind that you see an adorable top just your size…

Confine your trip to one or two stores to avoid shopping overload for both of you.

Clothes shopping with a teenage boy is not for the faint of heart, but it can be done successfully. And remember, it could be worse. He could be a girl.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m learning natural horsemanship techniques so that I can be a better leader to my horse and have a closer bond with him. While watching one of the Parelli Level 1 DVDs recently, something one of the instructors said resonated with me. She posed the question, when someone asks you if you can do something you’ve never done before, especially something hard or scary, what should you say? Her answer:

“I don’t know.”

Not “I can’t.”

Because, really, you don’t yet know if you can do it or not, because you haven’t tried. You don’t know what is possible.

Some other alternatives she came up with included: I haven’t up until now. I haven’t done that yet. In the past, I haven’t tried that.

These phrases leave the door open, instead of slamming it shut with an “I can’t.” I’ve found “I don't know” very helpful when I’m offered the chance to do something that scares me. I don’t always rise to the challenge—but sometimes I do.

What are some things you say to yourself when faced with a challenge?

In doing puzzles, I’m OK with not knowing, at least up to a point. When I get stuck on a crossword clue, I skip it, coming back to it later. If I find I’m skipping a lot of clues, maybe I’ll put the whole puzzle aside for a few hours. When I pick it up again, I almost always do better. The same with a jigsaw puzzle—after trying repeatedly to find an elusive piece, I’ve often come back later only to pick it up and put it straight where it belongs. (Provided my husband and/or son hasn’t hidden the piece from me.)

If I’m reading a mystery that has me stumped, I step back and watch the action without trying to guess the crime’s perpetrator, simply enjoying the writing, the characters and story. Sometimes, the clues I need are just a few pages away (and sometimes I remain stumped).

I find life itself a bit puzzling, don’t you? I only see bits and pieces of the whole, not knowing how choice A will lead to consequence B, which in turn produces outcome C. Some things that seem disastrous often work out to be blessings in disguise—and sometimes the opposite occurs.

I often think of the Chinese parable about the farmer who used an old horse to plow his fields. One day the horse ran away. When his neighbors came to commiserate with the old man, he replied, “Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?” A few days later, the horse returned, bringing with her a herd of wild horses from the nearby hills. The neighbors returned to congratulate the farmer, who replied, “Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?”

When the farmer’s son was thrown and broke his leg while trying to tame one of the wild horses, the sympathetic neighbors were met once again with “Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?”

A few weeks later, the army marched into the village and conscripted all the able-bodied young men…leaving the farmer’s son with his broken leg behind.

It can be hard not knowing. When I’m uncertain about my next step, or facing frustrations of some kind, I should take my cue from my behavior with other puzzles: watch the action and enjoy the mystery, or put it aside for a later time when things somehow clarify themselves. If things seem bad, wait and see what happens next. A setback can become an opportunity, and an opportunity can become a setback. I guess the key is knowing that it all fits together, somehow, into the perfect puzzle of my life.


Have you ever had an experience that initially seemed bad, but turned out to be for the good? Vice versa? What did you take away from the experience?