Recently I was involved in a retreat being presented by a colleague. During the opening evening, she asked the attendees something that really had me sit up and take notice: You’re 11 years old. You’re moving into that time of life when you’re starting to think for yourself, and your parents are starting to wobble on those pedestals you may have placed them on. What is your mom doing that has you saying, “I will NEVER do/be/act like THAT.”

Powerful. The answers that came back were varied. These women, at 11, vowed they would spend more time with their kids. They would listen more. They would be available. They would stay home. They wouldn’t stay home. It all depended upon the perspective of the particular 11-year old.

The question took me aback. First of all, I could barely remember being 11, except that it was a time when my three best friends and I spent a lot of time riding our bikes, going to the local stable to horseback ride, and dreamed about being nurses (only one of us made that a reality). It was a pretty golden time in my life. My mom was…my mom. She was there. She listened. She spent time with us. I really liked my mom, and always enjoyed doing things with her. I felt safe with her, and very, very loved.

I pondered that question for a long time. I looked at my own life, and then compared it to my mom’s, to see if I could find something that I did that she didn’t. And I finally came up with an answer.

My life, once I graduated from high school and set out on my own, is what I would call “colorful.” I had a lot of adventures. I moved to California, then to Colorado, then to Washington State, and then back to Colorado. I moved around a LOT, both in terms of home and relationship. Once I met my husband Glenn, a lot of that movement slowed down (we’ve only lived in five different places in our 26 years of marriage), but we still have adventures, we do new things, we ride motorcycles! Life for us, for me, is an ongoing process. For the most part, what I’m not, and never have been, is predictable. And that was my answer.

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Mom, Glenn and me a few years ago. Mom also taught me it was okay to be a goofball.

At our home, mom had a predictable life. She did the laundry on Monday. (Okay, I do the laundry on Monday. Usually. And sometimes on Thursday or Friday, too.) She visited her mom on Tuesday, grocery shopping was Wednesday, bedrooms got cleaned on Thursday, and Friday the rest of the house went under the vacuum and dust rag. She had dinner on the table at 4:30 every day, to give my dad some time to unwind from his work day before we ate, and still have time in the evening for projects. We had ring bologna (anyone remember that?) and beans almost every Sunday.

I won’t say my life is the exact opposite of predictable; it isn’t chaos. Some things are kind of predictable, such as an “X-Files” episode before bed – but when we run out of “X-Files”, we’ll go on to something else, we won’t start them over again.  I don’t always change the bedsheets on the same day. The house gets cleaned when I can’t stand it any more. I like to take a different route to get somewhere.  Our vacations vary between the known and the unknown. And as a fledgling entrepreneur, my life is completely turned upside down now and then by the unpredictability of running my own business.

My mom taught me the benefit of having something to count on – like the laundry on Monday, and her unswerving love. And my 11-year old taught me that there’s a big world out there full of as much adventure as I want to have. Pretty good combo, I’d say.

Ashara Morris is the CEO and President of Harmony’s Heart LLC, where she spends her time talking with animals (other people’s), partnering with her horses as a certified EGCMethod(R) coach, and navigating the unpredictability of an entrepreneurial life. Learn more about Ashara and the Healing Herd (which also includes some pretty cool felines and canines) at www.harmonysheartanimals.com or www.harmonysheartcoaching.com.