Letting go is never easy, even when it’s anticipated. On March 27th, my beautiful 92-year old mother, Wilma Simon Machover, died peacefully in the morning light while listening to Mozart. While her passing was expected as she had been fading these past few months, none of us thought it would happen on that day. But she was ready. As some of you may know, this has been a long goodbye. Mom was diagnosed with vascular dementia eight years ago, a year after my dad died. Her dementia presented many challenges but also learning opportunities and so much love.

In this time of grief, I am deeply moved by the outpouring of messages, support, and loving gestures from family and friends. Thank you so much for your kindness and the beautiful ways you have helped me and my family honor and celebrate my mom’s life.

It’s impossible to summarize her extraordinary life in a few words because there are so many stories and ways that she touched our lives. Instead, I’m sharing a few stories, and the legacy mom left us. 

Mom’s Legacy

When I think about the legacy mom left us, four words stand out:

• Love – which was visible in all things she touched

• Family – which was her everything

• Music – which was her passion

• Community – which she created wherever she was

Mom Stories

1. Love

Love was part of every conversation, decision, and choice mom made. It was present in her relationships and how she loved my dad, siblings, grandkids, family, friends, and me.

I remember after Allison was born and I was pregnant with baby #2, our beautiful Cassie. I was worried and scared, so I talked with my mom. Would I have enough love for another child? She assured me and said that love is an amazing thing. There is no limit on how much love we have. It keeps growing. And she was right. The more you love, the more love you have to give.

Always the teacher and role model, I watched mom. When each of her seven grandkids was born (Allison, Ryan, Cassie, Allegra, Hana, Halle, and Noa,) I saw mom’s heart expand as she welcomed them into the world with open arms and abundant love.

2. Gratitude

My mom was a grateful person. For years, maybe decades, I spoke with her at least once a day. Our calls were frequently about how grateful we were for the people we loved and the time spent together. She’d say, “That’s the good stuff!”

She always communicated a profound sense of gratitude for her family, friends, music, art, and the preciousness of time. Even as her dementia worsened and talking wasn’t always a viable way to communicate, she continued to express gratitude and appreciation in so many ways.

3. Mindfulness

For a brief period, when I was about 9 years old, I remember my mom told me that her friends, Jack and Erva Zuckerman, joined the Gurdjieff Society. The group encouraged a philosophy about life that fascinated her. One of the things my mom described was their belief in living mindfully, although I’m not sure they called it that. She gave an example- if you are making your bed, focus on just that one thing- smoothing the sheets, feeling the fabric, appreciating, and being in the moment.

Mom used to experiment with that idea and sometimes talked aloud to share it with me as she practiced mindfully washing the dishes, folding the laundry, or making the bed. I realized how in mom’s later years, she became my mindfulness guru in another way. Her dementia journey was long. Eventually, Mom lost her memory of the past and wasn’t aware of the future. With those changes, she modeled mindfulness and presence. She found joy in the present through playing piano, listening to music, singing, dancing, smiling, being with people who cared about her, exploring the garden, holding hands, feeling the sun on her face, or being playful.

When I was with her, I entered her world wherever she was, and we experienced the moments together. She helped me appreciate the now even more and savor the precious time I had with her.

4. Lifelong Bond

Mom loved telling me my birth story, which she shared often. She was fully awake when I was born, and the nurse handed me to her right away. She said, “You wrapped your tiny hand around my finger and squeezed it tightly.” Then she said, “I know we’ll be friends forever.” And she was right. We were always close.

Towards the end of her life, she hummed but barely talked. During one of my last visits with her before she died, I held her hand and sang her songs that she loved and used to sing to me. She swayed our hands gently to the rhythm of the music. Then suddenly, she squeezed my hand tightly and placed our hands together over her heart.

At the beginning of my life and the end of hers, there were no words. We shared touch, connection, and beautiful moments of love.

Letting go is never easy. Yet, in our letting go, the stories about those we love live on. Have you experienced letting go challenges or loss? I’d love to hear your thoughts. I invite you to join the conversation.

The whole day was before me. It was my day to sit and write this post. However, instead of focusing next on writing, I felt compelled to delight in spring’s arrival. Outside beckoned me to walk in the warm air, bask in the hot sun, hear the birds chirping, and discover flowers and greenery gracing the landscape with bright spots of color. I also carried with me some ideas that surfaced during my morning mindfulness meditation. It was the combination of the practice, the week’s events, and my pull to be outside, leading me here. 

During Tony Brady’s meditation, he said, “We are doers and fixers and move impatiently from one project to the next.” I had to unpack that one. Doers and fixers? The “doer” struck me. Each day when I wake, I have a goal to do something. I rarely have a don’t-do day. The “fixer” resonated too. I recognize I don’t have to fix or solve everything. However, my tendency is to find solutions for others or myself. It’s how I’m wired.

Moving “impatiently from one project to the next,” I connected less with. I’m pretty darn patient. I like having space within a project to think, appreciate, evaluate, and readjust as I go. I never feel like I’m hurrying to that next thing. I actually don’t like to rush (or run). But Tony made me think about this.

Then he said, “We have lost the gentle art of waiting.” Those words hit me. We are accustomed to fast and instant everything. Do you remember when we used dial-up to access the Internet and how long it took? Now, if we don’t connect in a split second, we are annoyed. How about ordering from Amazon? I’ve ordered items that arrive the next day at standard free shipping. What about our conversations? Do we really listen to the person that’s talking? Or, are we thinking about what we’re going to say next before they finished speaking? 

“We have lost the gentle art of waiting.”

— Tony Brady

Tony’s statement about losing the art of waiting made me think about presence and mindfulness. Being here now. Focus on where I am and what’s happening around me. Don’t fast-forward to the next thing on my list.  It was with those thoughts that I approached this glorious spring day. Yes. I eventually wrote this post, as you can see. But before I wrote, I used most of the day for embracing spring. This included:

• Taking two walks- one by myself and the other with my husband.

• Enjoying a conversation with an adorable three-year-old kid who was happily sloshing around in a mud puddle.

• Watching geese waddle into the river and then glide along the water.

• Eating leisurely my brightly-colored salad as I sat in our greenhouse.

• Shooting photos of flowers, water, trees, and the Croton Picture Tunnel.

• Savoring the super cold Yasso fudge brownie pop as I sat in the hot sun.

• Reflecting on the two bookends of life this week as my great-nephew entered the world and my mom continues to fade.

There is doing and not-doing. There is life and death. There is being present and missing the moment. For this moment, this day, I chose to be here now. I’m also OK to wait and pause. I’m grateful for the arrival of spring, the birth of my great-nephew, being able to hold my mom’s hand, and this day. 

Is next calling you? Are you feeling content with things as they are now? What are your ideas about waiting, patience, and rushing? I’d love to hear your thoughts. I invite you to join the conversation.

There are times each day that encourages me to pause and notice. These mindful moments prevent me from moving to that next step on my daily to-do list. They remind me that while it’s helpful to be productive and get stuff done, stopping for a gratitude or reflection break is essential too. Have you experienced this?

I have an Anna Quindlen quote displayed on my desk, which says, “I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.” I extend this idea to the quality of my days. The next step often implies taking action that will further our project or goal. That’s essential. However, we can also interpret action to include reflecting, appreciating and noticing life’s treasures.

What made my next step be a stop and notice?  There were several things I’ll share with you. I’m curious about what you’ve been noticing lately, too.

3 Ways to Embrace Mindfulness

Next Step, Spring

It’s still officially winter, but signs of spring are all around. Some days I’ve gone coatless. And considering that only a few weeks ago, we were knee-deep in snow, and with freezing temperatures, a no-coat day feels pretty darn spectacular. But the spring sign that speaks, “spring is almost here,” more than any other, is when outside of our dining room window, the first purple crocus emerges from the earth. From the time our daughters were little, they were always on the lookout for the first crocus. I remember the joyous sounds of squealing and delight when they’d see it bloom. They’d rush to tell me in excited voices, “Look, look! The first crocus is out!!!” We’d run to the window together to appreciate the change. Then we’d go outside to take a closer look at this beautiful flower.

This past week, the purple crocus appeared. I felt just as excited and hopeful to see it as I have all of these years. I went outside to admire and appreciate its beauty and sign that spring is on its way. Life will once again begin to bloom.

Next Step, Hugs

Has anyone else seen the news articles that have been surfacing lately about how people isolated because of the pandemic are spending money to visit unique farms to hug cows? Yes, cows! This wellness trend of cow hugging or koe knuffelen, which originated in the Netherlands, has made its way to the United States. Apparently, cuddling a cow can increase our oxytocin levels, which is the hormone released in social bonding.

While my husband and I have been together during the pandemic and get to hug each other frequently, we have truly missed being with our children and embracing them. This past weekend, our daughter, Allison, visited us, and before the walking, talking, cooking, or eating, we stopped and hugged. It was the best next step ever! It’s not that I forgot. I was reminded how important and meaningful physical contact is to me. It’s the simple exchange of a hug or holding hands that express love, connection, and appreciation.

“Next can mean mindfully appreciating the moment.”

— Linda Samuels, CPO-CD®, CVPO™

Next Step, Inspiration

Walking is part of every day. I love getting outside to move and explore. I tend to be a creature of habit, which extends to my walking routes. I mix it up sometimes, but most frequently choose a path along the Hudson River. When Allison visited us, she wanted to explore another spot in Croton. We ended up at this hidden beach, which my husband and I had only been to one other time. Aside from the gorgeous east river views, the landscape was covered with driftwood, reeds, rocks, and shells in unusual patterns and colors. Visual inspiration was all around as we stopped to capture the images and as I paused to appreciate being together with Steve and Allison.

Your next step doesn’t have to equal accomplishment. Next can mean mindfully appreciating the moment. Was your next step a pause to notice? What has captured your attention recently? I’d love to hear your thoughts. I invite you to join the conversation.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about some of the positive mindset changes my clients experience during their virtual organizing sessions. A common theme is going from overwhelmed to unstuck.

Whether clients are overwhelmed or not, all grapple with “What’s my next step?”  This is the intriguing part. How do we figure out what to do next during a virtual organizing session? What do some typical next steps look like?

If you are curious, continue reading. I will share my latest discoveries with you.

How to Figure Out Next

It’s probably no surprise, but figuring out next begins with asking thought-provoking questions and listening carefully. We check in first before we start organizing. With curiosity as our guide, we discuss how things went in between sessions, discover successes and challenges, and find out what’s happening now. Is a current circumstance affecting their energy, mood, or preferences? All of these discoveries go into finding next. 

Once we’ve talked, I can tell if my client is clear about their next step or need help discovering it. If they are unsure, we clarify and discuss several options. It’s always their choice, which is one of the powerful aspects of virtual organizing work. When clients choose what they want to focus on, they own the process and are invested in the outcome. 

What Next Looks Like

Each client has unique organizing goals and needs. Their projects differ in scope and focus. Clients want a range of help from me, including brainstorming, planning, body doubling, focusing, system designing, resource-providing, list-making, and more. While working, we focus on decision-making skills, letting go, mindfulness, awareness, and moving forward one small step at a time. The organizing work happens in their offices (at home and work,) bedrooms, closets, kitchens, pantries, laundry rooms, bathrooms, dining rooms, living rooms, garages and other areas.

“Taking that next step builds momentum.”

— Linda Samuels, CPO-CD®, CVPO™

During each virtual organizing session, they experience change and progress. Taking that next step builds momentum. Below is a small sample of clients’ next steps and successes they experienced during their one-hour virtual organizing sessions:

• Created a goals list of organizing tasks and projects for every room in the house

• Edited and cleared papers from the office floor

• Brainstormed ideas for the most effective use of the space

• Edited expired make-up and personal care products

• Edited and decluttered items on the bed

• Sorted and organized backlog of mail

• Created a filing system

• Drafted a project to-do list

• Edited and decluttered the pantry

• Cleared out old files 

• Edited and organized a box of papers

• Created a to-do list

• Edited and organized memorabilia

• Organized books

• Edited a stack of magazines

• Edited and organized clothing closet

• Organized mind clutter

You may wonder why I shared this list. It’s simple. Next begins somewhere. While your goal may be huge, big can be overwhelming. But with focus, small blocks of time, and some guidance, you will get there, one paper, box, or decision at a time.

Where did your next step bring you? Did it create the momentum to continue organizing? I’d love to hear your thoughts. I invite you to join the conversation.