Author: Sarah Tauber

I was at my gym the other day and saw a sign that read “Maximum capacity 291”. That started me thinking about the meaning of those two words and how they might be applied to our lives. “Maximum” means no more than, an upper limit allowed. “Capacity” means the ability to hold, store, receive or accommodate.

So how can we apply this to ourselves in a more intangible way? What is your maximum capacity for love? Does this make sense? Of course not. There is no limit to how much we can love something or someone or more than one someone. Think of a mother with three children. She loves them all. Then she finds out she is going to have a fourth child. Does she worry that she will not have enough love for all of them?

We think we have a maximum capacity for pain. But do we? Physically, when we have reached our threshold for pain tolerance we usually pass out. That is the body’s way of protecting us from a level of pain greater than our ability to withstand. Emotional pain? Some people who reach what they believe to be their maximum capacity for emotional pain end their own lives. What a tragedy this is. But to them it is the only viable solution. The emotional equivalent of passing out, only they never wake up.

And what of joy? Is there a point at which you say, “No more joy! I can’t take it anymore!” I doubt it. Most of us find joy intoxicating. It feels like freedom times ten. We are like children without worry or stress. For a brief moment we are floating on air. Is there a limit to the joy we can feel?

There is another application I can think of for “maximum capacity”. And that is the capacity to experience good. You have a container (the capacity part) and you give it to the universe, God, higher power, whatever feels right to you. You ask for it to be filled with good things for your life. The question is, how big is your container? Is it the size of a thimble? Do you see yourself with a small capacity for good because you believe to expect more would be too selfish? Are you not deserving of more good than a thimble could hold?

This is not just a frivolous pondering of little significance. It is immensely important. How much good do you deserve? How big is your container? When the container is full, it is at “maximum capacity” and you know there will be no more room. So you must believe yourself to be deserving of all the good you can imagine or you will surely go without. This is not an easy thing to do. It challenges many of us in our core belief that to expect too much good is egocentric, not Christian. We should think of others, not ourselves.

The truth is, we all deserve the good the universe (or God) will give to us. Our containers should be big enough to hold all that we can imagine for ourselves. It is not selfish to want to live abundantly. And by abundantly, I am not speaking only of monetary good. There is so much more.

Try waking up tomorrow and expect good things to occur throughout your day. Believe you are worthy and know that life is on your side. See what happens. Picture your container as so big you cannot see over the top. Maximum schmaximum!

I remember when my older sister told me she was retiring. At that point in my life retirement seemed a long way off, maybe never. I remember thinking, retire? Oh, I can’t imagine being retired. How boring that would be! How lonely!

Fast forward four years and my tune had changed. I thought fondly of the day when I wouldn’t have to get up in the morning because my alarm clock ordered me to do so. When I could choose my daily activities rather than have them dictated to me by my clients and bosses. When I would not have to sit across the table from someone who was about to judge me – on everything but my looks. Was I working hard enough? Did I manage my time well? Was I, bottom line, an asset or a liability to the company? All things that made me cringe, even though the report was always glowing.

Yes, these were the things I would definitely not miss about working. I wanted to be my own boss! I wanted to tell myself what to do and have the freedom to refuse to do it when I had something else in mind. Retirement was sounding better and better as the months dragged on.

Now I was recently married, which is a tremendous benefit when it comes to planning your retirement. Now I could actually consider it, something that was really challenging if not difficult for a single female. My husband had created a business which had grown and done quite well. He was about to sell it. The money from the sale would be our retirement money, at least the foundation for it. Retirement was no longer a pipe dream; it was becoming a real possibility.

I reached a point in my career (toward the end of 2010) where I knew it was time to put a date to my retirement. I was ready. I was almost more than ready. If I work beyond a certain date I know my soul will start to die. I was sure of it.

We planned for an early retirement in April 2011. I was beyond excited. Now comes the big question – what will I do when I am retired? Ah, you say, that is the $60 million dollar question. Well, maybe for some people, maybe for many people. But not for me. You see I had plans. I had already begun my extra-curricular activities that would become my primary activities after retirement. I rode horses! I had a trainer and would purchase a horse and learn the art of Dressage! I would be in shows and we would build a barn and arena on our property and I would have my horses with me every day and life would be perfect!

Well, truth be told, it didn’t quite work out as planned. Life got in the way and so the outcome was not exactly as pictured, but close enough. I got to retire on the scheduled date. I had the money to purchase my horse and I did so. The barn and the arena have yet to be built. But that’s okay. You have to learn to be flexible with your dreams.

The key to a successful retirement is having a plan BEFORE you leave your job. Retiring without a plan is dangerous. It can make your retirement frustrating and boring, things you do not want. Know what you want to do and have the means to do it. PLAN.

That is just part of the double-edged sword. The other part is what happens after the first couple of weeks have gone by. You have wallowed in the freedom that is retirement. You have slept in every day and done only what you wanted to do. But after a few weeks of doing almost nothing, you start to wonder what all the hype was about. This is what happens – you had little freedom before retirement and now you have a lot. Even if you have a plan, you still have days or at least hours that do not require any action on your part. What do you do with them?

Unless you are extremely self motivated (and I am fairly self-motivated but still had the problem) you are going to find that you sometimes have to “push” yourself to get out of bed or to do some task that requires attention. You might have to “push” yourself out of the house, even when you had somewhere to go! After working hard for so many years and then being given the gift of non-accountability, doing nothing can have a strong appeal.

A friend of mine who retired about a year before I did warned me of this but having no first-hand experience with it I had to wait until I got there. It absolutely happened to me, exactly as she predicted.

Do not stress about it. Retirement, just like working, is an adjustment. You figure it out and do what works best for you. After a while it is like you have been retired forever. So fear not! My advice to you if you are thinking about retirement – have a plan to do something you love and be patient with yourself when it comes to adjusting to the freedom. Like anything new in life, it just takes a little time and patience. This is your life. Enjoy it!

It dawned on me today (things “dawn” on me all the time) that the expression “choose your battles” has applications outside of parenting.  When you are raising children and they do what is against the rules or are being downright irritating, it is said that you should choose your battles, i.e., don’t get angry with them every time they do something wrong.  Pick the most important thing to be upset about and let the other thing go.  Clothes still on the floor or smoking pot?    Didn’t take the garbage out or got caught driving without a license?  Shaved his (or her) head or got drunk at a party?  You get the idea.  You can’t yell at your children all the time; it makes for an unpleasant home life.  And besides, not everything they do is yell-worthy.  Choose what to make a big deal about – and it can’ be everything they do wrong.

Other applications?  Your spouse!  This is mostly for women but definitely includes both sexes.  Your spouse is not always going to do what you want or even expect.  Sometimes they will do things that positively make you crazy or make you want to run away.  Many women, I’m afraid, do not appreciate the wisdom of choosing your battles and pick at everything their husbands (boyfriends) do that does not measure up.  This is a great relationship destroyer, sadly.

On the other hand, you could choose to look the other way over the less important infractions and focus only on the really significant ones (should they ever occur).  Left dirty dishes in the sink overnight when he promised to wash them or stayed out all night drinking with “the boys”?  Forgot to send in your registration renewal (this is really your responsibility) or flirted openly and obviously with the waitress at dinner?  Borrowed your car and was involved in a fender bender or cheated on you with your best friend?  Hmmmm.  These seem to be no-brainers.

There is, I believe, a third application of this sage advice and it involves only one person – you.  I think we are often harder on ourselves than on our children or our spouses.  Maybe there is room for “choose your battles” here as well.  I sometimes beat myself up coming back from a riding lesson when I feel I didn’t do as well as I wanted to.  Perhaps I let fear get in the way that day, or felt tired and wasn’t trying very hard.  I start the dialogue in my head on the way home.  “Well, that didn’t go very well.  When are you going to stop letting fear get in the way of your riding?  You should have been more confident and pushed through it this time.”  Etc. , etc.  Then what have I accomplished except to feel depressed by the time I get home and then I proceed to rehash the lesson ten more times before bed!  Pause for sleep.  Wake up in the morning and think about it again.  Not productive.

What I should say instead is, “Well, you were more anxious today than usual.  That messed you up a bit.  But you rode and you did the best you could under the circumstances.  Next time will be better.”  And you know what?  Next time is almost always better!  That is directly related to my attitude.  (That’s another blog, right there.)

My point?  Choose your own battles.  Get upset with yourself only when absolutely necessary.  And don’t sweat the small stuff.  (You know the rest of it, right?  “And it’s all small stuff!”)

Keep the following in your mind at all times –

As a student of Dressage, the word “transition” has clear meaning.  Going from the walk to the trot, from the trot to the canter, from the trot to a halt – these are all called “transitions”.

Jump over to my religious beliefs and the word takes on a completely different meaning.  To make your transition is to die, or to pass on.  We say that to do so is simply part of life.  You do not disappear or go away forever, you merely change form.  Death, therefore, is not to be feared but to accept as a transition from bodily form to ethereal form.

Lately I have contemplated a third definition of the word.  I remember when my older son was young and his father and I had gone through a divorce.  (“For Dear Life”).  He told me it was very hard for him to stay with me and then go to his Dad’s for a weekend or longer, where he adapted to his father’s house and then had to come back and be with me again.  The discomfort brought on by changing houses does not only apply to children.

I recently visited my younger son and his wife in Portland, Oregon.  I was only there for five days but upon first getting there I had to adjust to my new surroundings.  After the first day or two it was very comfortable for me.  I had my own bedroom and bath, had hung clothes in the closet and laid out my toiletries in the bathroom.  I had quickly developed a routine and was flowing with the many hours that passed over me, like sand in an hourglass.

Next thing I knew, it was time to go back home.  I had to pack up my clothes that hung in the closet.  I had to remove my toiletries from the bathroom.  I turned around and looked back as I closed the bathroom door.  Now it could be anyone’s bathroom, I thought.  It no longer had my stamp on it.

Coming home to my wonderful husband should have been a very happy transition.   Well, it was, and it wasn’t.  I felt strange when I first got here.  I was lost.  I missed my children.  I missed being in their flow of life.  I had adapted to it and now I had to re-adapt to my own flow.  All natural, of course, but it bothered me initially.  I felt sad and disconnected.

Now it is day three at home and things are feeling more like normal again.  I have been to the barn to ride my horse, gotten a pedicure at the place I always go to, and grocery shopped in my neighborhood.  Yes, life is beginning to feel more familiar, more like my own life.  I know from experience that soon my visit up north will be a wonderful memory and I will fight to hold onto the “normalcy” of being right here where I belong.

Transitions allow us to adjust to our surroundings, to changes in our lives, and I think that is a very good thing.

Waking up in the middle of the night and not getting back to sleep right away – I know I am in trouble if I start thinking.  Then I will most likely be awake for hours.  This happened last night and soon my brain had taken over.  I pondered the difference between “trust” and “faith”.  Is there a difference or are they in essence, the same thing?  Is trust more secular and faith more religious?  Can you trust God?  Can you have faith in a business venture?  Of course, the answer is “yes” to both questions.  I then decided that they can both be secular and religious.

Do you first have faith and then trust is what follows?  I have faith that my book will be successful.  When I am convinced, is that where trust steps in?  First you believe and then you can trust?  Webster says under “trust” – “to place confidence: depend.  …to do something without fear or misgiving.  To rely on the truthfulness or accuracy of: believe.”  For “faith”, Webster says “Firm belief in something for which there is no proof…Something that is believed especially with strong conviction.”

If you trust someone, you usually do so after a certain period of time, or with a certain knowledge that it is prudent to do so.  Faith, on the other hand, seems more like “flying by the seat of your pants”.  You have no reason to believe, you just do.  There is no scientific evidence supporting it.  Perhaps trust requires more than that.

So I say, trust that you will get yourself through whatever it is you are going through.  Trust that God will help you get there.  That seems to be injecting faith qualities onto trust.

I asked my sister what she thought.  Her initial reaction was that faith is predominantly having to do with God (religion) and trust is more man-made.  Faith is intangible, she said.  It is an “inside job”.  It involves just you (and maybe God).  Trust, on the other hand, you can see in a child’s face, in the faces of people who love each other.  It involves more than one.   Trust says, “Are you there?”  Faith says, “Here I am.”

I think as with the word “love” we have become sloppy in our language, substituting “trust” for “faith” and vice versa.    We exchange these two words as if they meant the same thing.  After giving it much thought, I say they are two different words with two distinct and different meanings.  What do you think?