Dear Girlfriends,

If you have recently tried to reply to my emails (rather than participate on the ellenmiller.com blog site) and have received an error message you will be pleased to know that the problem has been corrected.

A personal reply or your post to the blog - either way, I look forward to hearing from you.
Ellen

P.S. A new series starts on Wednesday!

Posted by Ellen on October 1, 2007 3:06 PM  |  Category: A Note from Ellen

Dear Girlfriends,

Tomorrow evening I will depart for a two-week adventure in India. The documentary project I'm associated with, Friendly Captivity, will follow six other women and me from Texas to Mumbai, Igatpuri, Chennai, and Trivandrum, as we take in the color, culture, and challenges of our Indian sisters. Important to the film makers is not the impact we have on those we meet but how these women, so different from us, make an impact on our lives and the way we see our world.   

Would you like to share my experiences with me? 

Providing that the technology works, you can follow me via Twitter on this wonderful adventure. Along with a photo, I will send three to four very short messages (the program limits me to 140 characters per entry), every day. These messages are sent and received almost immediately.

If you currently Twitter or would like to receive my "tweets" automatically, my ID is www.twitter.com/ellen_miller . If you're like me and last thing you need is more email, you can simply visit my website and click on the Twitter logo at the top of my home page at www.ellenmiller.com  Either way, the service is free.

To live intentionally we must sometimes take a step out of our comfort zone and for this camera-shy blogger - I'm taking one giant step outside mine. . . and into another world.  I am most fortunate to have been chosen to share this experience with six total strangers (who will soon become my newest girlfriends) but I won't leave you if you'd like to come, too!

So, if you'd like to journey with me (without the fear of malaria, food poisoning, or sunburn), follow my "tweets".  Otherwise, I will be back blogging to you on Tuesday, October 28, 2008.

Stepping out,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on October 9, 2008 10:56 AM  |  Category: A Note from Ellen

Dear Girlfriends,

Since we last visited, Steve's dad, Al, passed away. Our family's grieving began months ago when the cancer diagnosis was pronounced terminal, and ended as we said good-bye at his bedside on Wednesday evening, July 29.

I say that our grief ended then and there because Al's strength, intellect, and spirit live on in his children. As Steve, Mark, and Candy sat with our minister and prepared for the service, I listened as the three of them recounted the most important gift Al had given them. Steve said, "Dad wouldn't do anything for you. But he'd do anything with you." Although by profession Al was an engineer, to his children, he was their teacher.

Each sibling told their own stories of what Al had taught them to do: change a tire; fix a garbage disposal; work through a math problem; or find their own answer to their question. Each recounted a time when they needed help but he consistently refused to "fix" things or come to their rescue. But because of this philosophy, each sibling pointed to Al as their source of empowerment, confidence, and self-reliance, as he gave them the tools to learn to deal with life's problems (as well as tricky plumbing or electrical challenges).

My generation of parents has been anything but empowering. We write checks; we Google; we network; we direct; we call the shots. I'm afraid we've often taken the opposite approach from Al in our parenting. One that says, "I'll do anything for you. But I haven't the inclination do anything with you." We've replaced the investment of time and patience with getting to the end game: "just get it done". And I wonder if, subliminally, we aren't saying to our children, "We haven't the confidence you can grasp this and do it for yourself." Will our children feel as strong and as equipped when we die, as my generation feels as our parents pass on?

Over the last few years, I've written a lot about our legacy - how we live it and how we leave it. So taking a page from Al's book, I will add this to the list of things to leave to the kids: the power tool of empowerment. It's the gift that keeps on giving.

Even now - still learning from Al,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on August 19, 2009 12:12 PM  |  Category: A Note from Ellen

Dear Girlfriends,

Difficult.

I glanced down at the piece of paper that listed highlights and important information for the hike we were on, and scanned quickly for the rating of the trail that was taking us further up the mountain pass just outside Aspen. Immediately I was comforted. Next to the words "hike rating" was the word that I was looking for: difficult.

As my calves cramped from maneuvering the steep switchbacks (who in their right mind took this hike in the first place?) and as my heart pounded and I gasped for breath at nearly 12,000 feet (Dallas sits at a mere 463 feet above sea level) and as my skin seemed to shrink on my bones from losing every ounce of its moisture (I will never, ever complain about Dallas's humidity again), I felt immediately comforted by the confirmation that this was not considered a simple stroll. It was difficult.

And here's what else that was affirming: I knew this pass had been rated by people who actually hike. Had the information sheet been written by a person who doesn't regularly experience a challenging workout, I would not have been so reassured. But this was information that was issued by locals, maybe even experts, providing even further legitimacy to the claim. Their rating of the excursion proved to me that I wasn't being a whiney baby. This was difficult.

As we slid (not literally, but nearly) back down the mountain pass, I thought about the reward at the end of our hike - the turquoise waters of the beautiful Cathedral Lake. Was it worth the pain and suffering? No. Not really. It was pretty and all. But I can't say I thought that putting my life on the line was worth the view. And if I had known then that I would barely be able to crawl out of bed the next morning I would have said Cathedral Lake was way overblown. However, what did make the hike rewarding was the fact that I survived it.

Today, as you sit reading this, some of you are grasping for air and looking for comforting confirmation that you're not alone on your journey. Others of you have been this way before and are experts at maneuvering difficult passages. You have trekked your way through tough times; you have faced fear; you have cried, doubted, and been on the verge of turning back. Some of you have stumbled or tripped on the way but all of you have made your way to the top of the pass.

I remind you of this because today, you might be the comforting confirmation to another who is on your same hike. One who needs to know that she is not alone; that the trip will eventually come to an end and like you, she will survive.

Sometimes the most comforting confirmation is just knowing that someone else knows that yes, indeed, this is difficult.

Your mountain hiker,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on September 23, 2009 10:48 AM  |  Category: A Note from Ellen

Dear Girlfriends,

Last week was my birthday. I say last week because I celebrated for days on end. Because I turned 50.

All my life, I've waited for this important day. Don't ask me why, but 16, 21, 30, and 40 were not particularly important milestone birthdays for me. Although they represent an age when there is a shift in opportunity, responsibility - and at 40, shifting boobs and buns - I can't say that any were ages that I looked forward to becoming. But 50. This one is different.

This is the age I've always wanted to be. I am a big girl, now.

At 50 I am fully aware of all that is right and wrong with the world; but at 50 I know that not all things can be fixed, and only a precious few need to be fixed by me.

At 50 I have perspective on what is important and what is insignificant; and I know at 50 to focus my energies and resources only on things that are meaningful and lasting.

At 50 I know what it is to invest in myself or to play the martyr; and at 50 I have learned to really be kind to me.

At 50 I realize that I can choose to read this month's Vogue or the Holy Bible; and at 50, I long to know the mind and ways of God much more than this season's color.

Our stay-young, look-young, be-young culture has stripped away the pride of milestone birthdays after 30. It's not that I don't want to look and be at my best - don't get me wrong. I have a rendezvous with "Travis" (the treadmill) every morning at 6:45 a.m. I have nearly spent the equivalent of the national budget deficit on creams, potions, and procedures to look "dewy and radiant". And you won't find me wearing sensible shoes; I'll continue to shop 'til I drop to find the best deal on a great pair of heels (preferably Jimmy Choos). But I won't be defined by those things that only defined me when I was younger. Today, more so than ever, I will be defined by the condition of my heart and the wisdom of my soul.

Because this is the age I've always wanted to be. I am a big girl, now.

Celebrating liberation,

Ellen

Posted by Ellen on October 22, 2009 10:44 AM  |  Category: A Note from Ellen