Coffee With Friends

This morning I met up for coffee with one of the lovelies in my life. As we stood in line to order, the cashier remarked how "sweet" we both were and asked if we were close friends. A year ago, perhaps not. But today, I answered, "Yes, and becoming closer!" What a beautiful blessing it is when a stranger recognizes a connection between two people.

It got me to thinking about the journey of this very friendship. A year ago, we barely knew each other. Over the last 12 months, we've gone to lunch once or twice, caught up over coffee quite a few times, brunched on our birthday (we're both April 18th-ers), volunteered together, and she was the 1st to offer to host a Poetic Soul Gifts home party - which turned out to be a total success! She's become one of the biggest cheerleaders for my company - not only by making purchases herself, and hosting a party for her friends to place orders as well, but by encouraging me in my efforts & praising my accomplishments!

This morning I thought about the progression of my contributions to our coffee house conversations throughout this year:

*In January, we were optimistically brainstorming ways to work together in the music business.
*In March, I lost my music industry gig & went into depression & shock.
*In April, over hot cocoa with my birthday buddy, I shed a few tears as my life continued to fall apart around me.
*By July, I was making a part-time job out of going on interviews, though still unemployed.
*By the time she hosted the open house in October, I was working 2 other part-time jobs & hopeful for more Poetic Soul work.
*And on this chilly November morning, as we caught up over coffee once again, I couldn't stop smiling! I finally felt like I had exciting things to talk about. I've still got those other 2 part-time jobs, and Poetic Soul is hitting its stride for the holiday season. I had new products to show her, a catalog to share, and a gift basket to donate to a charity she's involved with. I've been busy, busy, busy - designing, crafting, & creating. Keeping busy by creating is where I prefer to live - that's my happy place. Life is looking up!

As a positive person by nature, I never like to be the Debbie Downer in someone's life. I'm certain that I have been that to several people for long stretches of time this year, as I struggled with many changes taking over my world. (To all of you to whom that applies, I apologize and thank you for bearing with me.) I am so grateful to be on my way out of that darkness and back into the light of a purposeful life. Debbie Downer be damned - I'd much rather be Peggy Positive!

There is a quote that I love which reads:

"You are my friend when you can guard my failure,

challenge my thought, and celebrate my success."

-Unknown

Throughout 2012, I've been blessed with several true friends according to this definition, and I am humbled by the love that I receive from them. In a year chock full of failures, I have felt guarded and protected by my friends. In a year when I had plenty to think about, I have been challenged by fresh perspectives from friends. And in a year where success has been hard to come by, I have always had someone alongside of me to celebrate even the tiniest of victories.

It's such a delight to engage in a friendship where you can stumble together through the rotten moments of life, and make it through to dance on the other side. Additionally, I appreciate the way that, in retrospect, occasional coffee dates serve as mile markers on the highway of life's progress. This year has been quite a trip - in every sense of the word - but as I look back, it's so gratifying to see how far I've come. There is an open road stretched out before me - "Two Lanes of Freedom," one might say - and I've still got a ways to go. But with a host of fabulous friends in tow, why should I be anything but excited about the journey yet to come?

Love That Name!

Poetic Soul Gifts - when I tell people the name of my company, the most common reaction I get is, "Love that name!" So do I. Here's how it came to be: 

Ten years ago, I was a Music Business major at Belmont University, interning for an independent publicist with a home office. She graciously invited me to stay for home cooked family dinners on the days that I interned. As a result, I became a bit of an honorary member of her family. They'd ask me what courses I'm taking, who my professors are, what kind of assignments I was working on, etc. Her husband was a professor at Vanderbilt and knew a lot of my professors at Belmont.

During the Fall semester of 2002, I took Comparative Spirituality in World Religions with Dr. Marty Bell. It was by far my favorite course of the semester - and looking back, one of my favorites of my entire college career. As it turned out, my boss & her husband knew Dr. Bell, & they were at dinner with him one night about a year after I'd taken his course. Somehow I came up in conversation, & they asked him if he remembered me. He said, "Oh yes, Ashley. She is a very poetic soul."

When they shared that with me, I was genuinely flattered. Not only was I shocked that he remembered me a year later, but it was the nicest compliment I'd ever received. I was no stranger to compliments. All my life, I got, "Oh, you have such pretty blond hair," or "You have beautiful blue eyes," or even "You're so funny!" I'll take any one of those any day of the week, and I will truly appreciate them. However, when it all comes down to it, those features are superficial & easily manipulated. I can style my hair to look nice, and I can wear makeup to accentuate my eyes, and I can crack a joke to make you belly laugh. All of those things draw attention - with effort. But a poetic soul? You either are or you aren't. There's no trying. There's no faking. When someone sees your soul, he sees the most natural part of who you are. I'd never been complimented on something so intrinsic. That compliment changed my life.

A few years later when I felt a tugging at my soul to get serious about my creative endeavors, I was stumped by the business-naming process. I wanted it to be something different, but not kitschy. Something clever, but not something I would get tired of saying, typing, or seeing on business documents after a couple years. I didn't want it to be Ashley's Arts & Crafts, but yet I wanted something that had "me" written all over it. I went through scores of potential names, but none of them suited me. So I tried to step outside of myself for a moment & consider what other people think of when I come to mind. Then it hit me! I want to give my best to this company. Therefore, when I'm at my best, who am I? I am a poetic soul. That is my gift. And I make gifts... Eureka! Poetic Soul Gifts!!!

In summary, if you see something wonderful in people, tell them! (Or tell someone who also knows them, and have them pass it along. Either way, make sure they get the message.) It just might change their lives. When someone offers you a compliment that changes your life, thank them. Finally, be grateful for classes that are part of the GenEd curriculum. Those may hold more value for you than the ones you take for your major.

To check out the creations available under this inspired moniker, please visit
www.poeticsoulgifts.com.

Life, Liberty, and The Pursuit of Peace

One of the best things about having strong relationships with friends is the element of revelation by conversation. When you have a friend with whom you can dive deeply into meaningful conversation, often that conversation reveals things to you. Sometimes verbally, sometimes unspoken. Sometimes about your friend, sometimes about you, and sometimes about the world at large. But no matter what, in those deep conversations, there is always a revelation. (More on that beautiful aspect of friendship another time) What follows is the result of my most recent "A-ha" moment amid a deep conversation with a friend:

Happiness is fleeting.

Peace offers longevity.

Forget the pursuit of happiness.

Pursue peace instead.

Read that again.

One more time.

Now really consider it... Go on, take a minute. I'll wait.

Okay, let's break it down.

When was the last time you felt happy? When was the last time you felt peaceful? Often, (though admittedly not always), the two are very different. It seems to me that happiness is typically prompted, whereas peace is cultivated. In other words, something that is prompted comes from outside forces, and something that is cultivated comes from within. Happiness is a feeling, while peace is an experience.

Feelings are wonderful things! Even the not-so-fun ones serve a purpose. Feelings remind us we're alive. The lows help us to appreciate the highs. The highs make us, well, high. Feelings can be a call to action; they can motivate us. If you're feeling particularly bad about something, eventually you'll want to change it. If you're feeling particularly good about something, perhaps you'll have the confidence required to do more, and be better. Good feelings can give us energy to build endurance. However, feelings are fleeting. Motivation fades. Energy runs out.

Meanwhile, peace is more than a feeling. It's an experience. If compared to water, happiness is found (and subsequently lost) amid raging rapids that toss you about - sometimes with exhilaration & other times with fear. Meanwhile, peace is a steady, flowing river. Now, you may think to yourself, "Life is an adventure, and I'd rather go white water rafting than canoeing." If you're looking for a Saturday afternoon activity, sure, go for the adventure. But if you're considering your lifestyle in the grand scheme of things, what will sustain you for the long haul?

Make no mistake: a peaceful life doesn't have to be boring, dull or stagnant. You can lead a very exciting, adventurous life & still maintain "Peace" as your goal. It's not that you shouldn't strive for happiness. It's simply that you shouldn't expect happiness to fulfill you - for the fulfillment that comes from happiness is temporary at best. Go on, strive to feel happy, and rejoice in the moments when you do! But at the core of your foundation, find your fulfillment in peace. You'll be far less disappointed when the happiness wears off if you've still got peace to hang onto.

To clarify, peace doesn't mean everything is going right. Rather, it's a quiet calm, a constant confidence that even if everything is going wrong at the moment, you are right where you belong & making the most of what you have. It's knowing that everything won't go wrong forever. It's understanding that the decisions you make feel right - deep down in your gut. It's being true to your authentic self. It's experiencing harmony between your mind, body, heart, and soul. You can experience peace amid turmoil, but rarely can you feel happy amid turmoil. Again, this is because peace is generated from within and is dependent upon YOU, while happiness relies on external circumstances.

Imagine if everyone strived for PEACE as they do for happiness. That's the kind of world I want to live in. What if, instead of seeking a job that you thought could make you happy, you chose a career path that brings you peace? The kind of work that you can believe in, that makes you feel like you have something to contribute. How much more productive & passionate would you be if you felt like your career brought harmony to your life? What if, instead of making decisions based on emotions, we waited until we felt peaceful about the choice we're making? What if, instead of looking for a husband or wife with whom you can live happily ever after, you looked for the kind of partner who brings peace to your life? The person who quiets your frantic mind, warms your heart, and puts your soul at ease. If everyone took the time to seek out that kind of partner maybe no one would be married before they're 30, but maybe half of us wouldn't be divorced by 35 either. I realize that's a generalized statement, and ultimately it's not about marriage & divorce statistics. It's about getting our fulfillment from the right places. It's about getting the most out of life by putting ourselves in a position where we're able to give the most. It's about listening to our intuition. It's about inner harmony. It's about peace. It's all about peace.

So in summary, happiness and peace are not mutually exclusive, but they do not possess the same staying power. For a moment, happiness & peace can co-exist. However, when happiness dissolves (as it always does), it's peace that will sustain you. Obtaining happiness may appear to be the most obvious & exciting goal in life, but I dare you to look beyond the obvious. Create a goal that, once achieved, can sustain you for more than a fleeting moment. Prepare your heart for the long haul. Pursue peace.

He Called Me Goldilocks

Today, we laid to rest a man who was infinitely special to me. The service was small and brief (per his request), so there was no opportunity for stories or speeches as I'm typically used to at other funerals. However, I've come to realize that the speeches I've delivered on such occasions are integral parts of my therapeutic grieving process. Therefore, I decided to write out what I would have shared verbally - if only for my own emotional catharsis. The result is as follows:

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Ralph Kline – my neighbor, my buddy, my family – he called me Goldilocks.

When I think of Ralph, there are so memories that come rushing back to me – including some of my earliest. He was my NEIGHBOR for as long as I can remember. I never knew life without Ellie & Ralph next door. With yards that blended into one another, he was always just a few paces (or a few childhood sprints) away. I can’t count the number of times I went next door for chocolate milk, or a bowl full of mini marshmallows, or sometimes just to sit on the porch with him & Ellie. He couldn’t wait to see me learn how to ride my bike on 2 wheels. And many years later, he was just as eager to go driving with me on 4 wheels. Shortly after I got my driver’s license, I took him for a drive. He’d been looking forward to that day for so long. We drove and we drove, and at one point after an adventure over the mountain, he asked me if I knew where I was. I hadn’t a clue. And though I’m sure he did, he never told me how to get back. He just let me figure it out. Lo and behold, we made it back.

He was my BUDDY. I remember him making me giggle when he would take out his false teeth. I used to give him a hard time about getting a haircut when he had so little to cut. In the mornings when my brother was in school but I wasn’t quite old enough yet, Ralph would come sit with me while Mom took Kent to the bus stop. We’d spend that time bonding over an episode of Inspector Gadget. If Mom really had a talker on with the other bus stop moms, we could even squeeze in an episode of The Jetsons, too!

As you know, I have a company called Poetic Soul Gifts. As it turns out, Ralph taught me some of the first poetry I’d ever heard & memorized. (much to Ellie’s chagrin)

Old King Cole was a merry old soul

And a merry old soul was he.

He climbed up the steeple

And he peed on the people

And he almost peed on me.

I can still hear him laugh when I would recite that for him over and over.

He may not have been blood, but he was always FAMILY to me. I considered him to be another grandfather, and he treated me as though I was his granddaughter – protective, loving, proud. He & Ellie would come over every Christmas day to see what new goodies Santa Claus had brought to Kent & me. He was at all of our birthday parties. He & Ellie used to take me for drives over to Middlecreek to see the geese. He’d always check in with me to find out my latest report card results. He’d continually ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up – and I imagine my answer varied a little bit each time. He used to get such a kick out of me telling him my favorite color was “geen.” And once I was an adult, he would ask, “Is your favorite color still ‘geen?’” I remember him sitting in the back seat with me on a ride to the ER when I’d hurt my arm as a little girl.

Another time that I wound up injured (did I mention I was clutzy child?) stands out to me as the quintessential example of just how high Ralph & Ellie have always ranked in my book. I was 4 years old, and I’d just taken a tumble, mouth-first, into an oak wood desk chair. I stood, leaning over the tub in the bathroom, blood gushing from my gums. Panicked & pitiful, I cried out to my mom, “Call the ambulance! Call Ellie & Ralph!” If you asked me, the 2 were one and the same in case of emergency.

As a child with bright blond hair, it was perfectly obvious why he called me Goldilocks. Thankfully, despite my hair color changing into countless different hues, I never outgrew this nickname. Regardless of my age, or the color of my hair, it always made me smile to hear him call me Goldilocks. As the years wore on, there were fewer and fewer things that he remembered. I would try to visit whenever I was home from Nashville, but those trips became fewer and further between. The last time I was able to visit with Ralph at any length, he didn’t recognize me. We talked to each other, but not about the same things. Eventually, I had to leave, and my heart was a little bit broken, knowing that he didn’t understand any of what I’d tried to share with him. But before I left, I bent down by his chair to tell him I was leaving. I told him, “It’s me, Ashley. I have to go now.” “Who?” he asked. “Ashley,” I repeated... Silence... He shook his head, as though to say, “I’m just not sure who you are.” Then I said, “It’s Goldilocks.” “Goldilocks?” he said with a familiarity worth celebrating. “Yeah, Goldilocks. I have to go, but I love you very much.” “Oh, I’ve always loved you,” he told me. And in that one moment, we were a part of the same conversation. He was lucid, even if only for a few seconds. He knew me. He loved me. He remembered me as Goldilocks.

An Innocent Move To Nashville

Eleven years ago today, my life changed. I got my first cell phone - a Nokia 8210.

But it wasn't the purchase of a cell phone that changed my life. It was the area code that started my new phone number: 615. Eleven years ago today, I moved to Nashville, TN.

I remember everything about that weekend. I remember the drive in my 1990 Ford Mustang (Pappy). I remember the cassette tapes I listened to on the way. I remember my parents leading the way down I-81 and across I-40 in their 1996 Dodge Intrepid. I remember arriving in Nashville on Sunday instead of Saturday like most kids, so that Mama & I could hit up one last Rascal Flatts concert in VA on our way. I remember Mama & I swaying with our arms around each other & crying while they sang "I'm Movin' On"... because I was. I remember carrying 2 tightly packed carloads of "stuff" up 2 flights of stairs to Room 308 in Hail Hall at Belmont University. I remember the smell of the dorm. I remember the buzz of the fluorescent lights. I remember the way my roommate & I had the furniture arranged. I remember meeting new faces, and greeting slightly familiar faces I'd met a month earlier at orientation. I remember the sheer excitement for possibilities that awaited me. And I remember going to Best Buy in Brentwood to get my very first cell phone.

It felt so official, so permanent. For the first time in all my 18 years, I had a phone # that was different from my parents, and the area code was 615. When people would contact me from that day forward, they would know me as a Nashville resident. There I was, this little girl from Newmanstown, PA who had traveled nearly 800 miles from the only place she'd ever known as home to begin a life all her own. In Nashville, I wasn't Noel & Wendy's daughter, nor was I Kent's little sister. I was Ashley Hertzog, and it was time for me to figure out exactly what that meant.

Throughout the past 11 years, I've done a lot of figuring out who I am. And it always seems that just as I figure out exactly who I am, I go and change again. But isn't that just the way it always goes? To be honest, I hope it does continue to go that way to some degree, because many of the changes that have taken place in me are signals of personal growth. I don't ever want to stop growing and becoming a better version of who I am. I seek to ever improve myself: learn new things, hold myself to higher standards, fine tune my character, love deeper, live more passionately, inspire & be inspired, set goals & achieve them, and grow more confident in my own skin.

I'd be lying if I said all the changes of the past 11 years have been good and easy. There's been a lot of innocence lost (starting a couple weeks after my move with September 11th, 2001). There have been broken friendships, broken relationships, broken dreams, broken promises, and broken hearts all along my path. There has been disappointment, discouragement, depression, and defeat. However, these things all generally eventually contribute to more personal growth. They are the necessary evils that teach me new things, call me to a higher standard, build character, require me to love even when it hurts, remind me that life without risk is life without passion, inspire me & help me to inspire others, shift my goals & intensify my drive to achieve them, and increase my confidence as I conquer one trial after another.

My life since 2001 has held an abundance of the good, the bad, and the ugly. Luckily, 11 years ago, it never occurred to me that anything but good would await me. Thank God for that innocence. I hadn't a clue about what I'd encounter on the road stretched out before me. And if I'd known about the bad & the ugly, I might have crawled into my parents' Intrepid and asked them to take me home. And oh, what I would have missed... Some might call my blind optimism blissful ignorance, but I'd like to correct them. As my wise freshman roommate Sarah once distinguished, "Ignorance is not knowing what you should, and innocence is not knowing what you shouldn't." On August 19, 2001, I was as innocent as I'd ever be again.

There's no going back to that time. There's no going back to that girl. I'm a woman now, and as desperately as I may long for that specific innocence, it's gone. If I tried to think that way again, it would no longer be innocence, but ignorance, for I know too much. At 29, the innocence of an 18 year old is unrealistic. But perhaps innocence as we know it just changes shapes as we grow up, and maybe, just maybe, not all is lost.

After all, I am no longer 18, but I am only 29. And here I sit again, on August 19, the road of life stretched out before me and not a clue as to what I'll encounter as I travel it. So the best I can do is pray for the appropriate amount of 29-year-old innocence to give me the courage to move forward from where I stand today. I pray for the optimism of timely innocence to keep me from running away from life's adventures. And I pray that in 2023, I can sit down and say, "I'm so glad I took that chance at 29! I'm not sure if I could do it today, but I guess 11 years ago I was just innocent enough to be blindly optimistic. For that optimistic innocence led me to the happiness I know today."

I type this blog at my home in Nashville - sitting next to a slightly more advanced cell phone with the same phone # I was given 11 years ago - having not only relished in the good, but having survived the bad & the ugly. As I type and reflect, I am moved to tears by how much I love this city, and the life I've made here. I wouldn't trade a moment of it for choosing the "safe" route. And I wouldn't have wanted to spend the last 11 years anywhere else in the whole world. I adore this city. I am grateful for my life. And I can't wait to see what happens next.

About That Perfectionism...

So... I started this blog nearly 2 years ago. My 2nd post was about the curse of perfectionism. The fact that I've only posted a total of 4 times in 2 years is a testament to my struggle with said perfectionism. Have I had nothing to say for 2 years? Hardly! Have I just not even thought about blogging for 2 years? Hardly! So why haven't I just done it? This question haunts my life daily.

First of all, you should check out my previous post Making It Look Easy - Fears and Failures of a Perfectionist. I mean, seriously, why not? There are only 4 posts in total right now. You've totally got the time to read my entire blog! One of the quotes I used in that post is the best explanation as to why I haven't written more:

"A man would do nothing if he waited until he could do it so well that no one could find fault." -John Henry Newman

Guess what I've been doing! Yep. Waiting to write blogs of perfection. I've thought about writing something & then second-guessed it thinking, "Nah, I don't have all my ideas fleshed out yet, I'll wait until I have more clarity about that." If I'd just start writing, the ideas could flesh themselves out as I go, but I hesitate because apparently not only am I afraid to publish imperfection, I'm also afraid of drafting imperfection. How ridiculous is that? I've considered writing something & then realized that I don't want to reign in my thoughts/emotions/opinions to the confines of "proper" writing. I want to be able to write a stream of consciousness if I want. Sentence fragments, misplaced commas, etc. I think about the ridicule of my actual writing techniques from strangers who would read my blog. What if my grammar sucks? What if my sentence structure sucks? Most importantly, what if someone notices?!? All that does is keep me from writing at all. If there's no blog, there's nothing to criticize. However, there's also no expression. I could have valuable things to share, yet my own selfish (and outrageous) fears keep me from sharing anything at all.

Basically, all of this was to say, "Hey, Readers! Keep me accountable!" I'm committing to you, right now, to write more often - even if the posts are only a couple paragraphs, even if the posts aren't structured like a press release or a dissertation for a Ph.D in English, even if there are (gasp!) spelling errors.

I WILL WRITE.

I will stop standing in my own way. I will put on my big girl britches and follow through. I will acknowledge that "done" is better than "perfect," because "perfect" never happens. And maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the way I'll say something that strikes you as interesting, touching, exciting, funny, or relatable.

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To-Do List for 8/17/2012
Rise above the need for perfection
Post new blog
Celebrate life's little victories

Inconvenient Blessings

I've just had a Monday of a Friday morning. One of those days where everything you do takes twice as long as it should, and everything you touch seems to backfire.

By the time I was running a couple minutes behind & didn't need any more setbacks, I found the bracelets I wanted to wear. I hadn't worn them in several years & that quickly became evident. You see, they're elastic beaded bracelets that I've had since my freshman year of college, and as I slid them on my wrist the elastic broke (on 4 of the 7 bracelets) and beads flew ALL OVER the bedroom. My first thought was, "Are you kidding me? I don't have time for this!" Not only did I have to pick up beads from all over the room, I couldn't wear those bracelets, so now I needed to find different jewelry to wear. But I did, and that was fine.

All that was left for me was to go into the kitchen & take my vitamins on my way out the door. When I stood at the sink, I noticed the blender sitting there, & I wondered if it had been rinsed out from the night before. (Sidenote: I'm meticulous about cleaning the blender as soon as I'm done with it so food doesn't get gunked up in the blades, etc. My boyfriend is - shall we say - slightly less meticulous...) As I lift it up & tilt it to look inside, I discover (the hard way) that there was water in it. The dirty dishwater runs down the front of the kitchen cabinets... and me. "Great!" I say. "So THIS is the kind of day it's going to be? Alright. Fine! Bring it on, Friday," I threaten. So I clean myself up from this mess, take my vitamins, and head out the door about 20 minutes behind schedule - grumbling all the while.

I begin my morning commute wondering why I've had such a craptastic morning. Then as I come around a turn and look ahead to the intersection at the bottom of the hill, I see flashing lights & realize I'm going to have to take a detour. "What?!? Seriously? I don't have time for this!" As I approach the firetruck & ambulance, I realize what has happened. There's been an accident. It appears that one car t-boned another in the intersection. They're loading someone from one car onto the stretcher & the folks from the other car are still inside. The whole incident looks to be about 20 minutes old. And I am instantly humbled.

Right then it hits me. It's not about the detour. It's about the fact that, had I been on time, had all those little inconveniences not littered my morning, that could have been me. I could have had more than a detour on my way to work. I could have had a hospital visit on my way to work. Heck, I might not have even made it to the hospital. Who knows? The point is that in that moment, I'm humbled by the divinely timed orchestration of my life. In that moment, my attitude goes from an arrogantly annoyed, "So THIS is the kind of day it's going to be?" to a humbly grateful, "So this is the kind of day it's going to be. Wow!" What an unexpected blessing.

It got me to thinking, why don't I choose to see the blessings before I'm revealed the purpose? In every little setback this morning I was frustrated, and ticked off by the inconvenience of it all. My mind could only comprehend the idea that the whole world was out to make me late. I couldn't wrap my head around the possibility that perhaps every time something took a little bit longer than I would have preferred, I was moving a little bit closer to where I was supposed to be. It was only upon seeing where I could have wound up that I appreciated those setbacks.

So in those moments when the bracelets break, and the dirty dishwater spills on you, you have a choice. A choice to either say, "This is the kind of day it's going to be?" & throw your hands up, defeated. Or to roll with the punches, and say, "Well, that was annoying, but I trust I'm exactly where I belong at this given moment," and opt to see the silver lining. We can choose to look at life as a glass half-full of blessings, or we can gripe and complain and ask where the other half of our blessings are.

Please don't misunderstand me, I'm not saying that all people who wind up in accidents deserve it because they rushed through life, or that divine timing is a good excuse to be late. It's not about that at all. I'm simply saying that for me, on this particular day, the events of this morning served as a wake-up call for me to readjust my perspective & stop taking it so personally when the little frustrations of life get in my way. Perhaps I should be more open to the idea that it's not all about MY way. And maybe, just maybe, I should choose to see those annoyances as blessings in disguise.

The point is that had I not seen the accident, I would have let those small morning mishaps ruin my day. But because I saw the accident, those inconveniences turned to blessings in an instant. I hereby challenge myself (and you) to recognize those alleged mishaps as blessings - even without having to see the accident. Choose the bright side. Accept the blessings. Don't sweat the small stuff. And trust that there is often a reason for even the smallest moments throughout the day...