How often do you question what you already know? It’s easy to overlook our ordinary knowledge as if it’s settled. 

But what if there’s still more to see about something you’re already familiar with?

Try choosing some everyday thing—a word (maybe your One Word of the Year?), an idea, a place, a hobby, a relationship, even a belief—and see what happens if you get a bit more curious about it.

After deciding on a topic, try these ideas.

LOOK IT UP

There are hundreds of ways to learn more about anything.

• Talk to an expert.
• Experiment with it.
• Explore online.
• Use a paper dictionary.
• Open it up.
• Read a book.

NOTICE WHAT’S NEW

Pay attention to what truly sparks your interest. Let go of the boring stuff and go down a rabbit hole for fun. Find a few things you didn’t know before.

Sometimes a tiny bit of new information can open a much wider door.

ASK YOURSELF

• What surprised me?
• Did it change my thinking in some way?
• Will anything I learned change something in my everyday life?

MY WORD: SHIFT

I did this exercise with Shift, my One Word. And honestly, I didn’t expect to find much because I’ve already been looking at the word for 9 months.

But I was wrong. I uncovered some very interesting and new things.

Here are four rabbit holes I went down with Shift:

1. No Label Shift Key

When I got a new Mac laptop, I noticed that words were missing from some of the keys. My Shift key no longer says anything; it’s just an up arrow.

The word Delete is also gone. It’s now simply a back arrow. 

old keyboard vs new keyboard

Apparently the U.S. has been lagging behind. Only in March 2026 did Apple switch to using “glyphs” instead of text labels on their keyboards. A few words do remain…esc, fn, command, etc.

But don’t look for caps lock, tab, or return. 

And something else I found out: the earlier typewriters had no shift keys. Everything was typed in all capital letters. They eventually introduced a shift function when they added two carriages: one for lower-case and one for upper-case. It continued evolving from there. 

2. Shifting Gears

I asked my bicycle expert husband to help me better understand how gears work. I quickly saw how ignorant I’ve been. Jeff taught me a lot. I learned even more by watching a couple YouTube videos. 

3. Shift Sculpture

Photo by Simon Rabyniuk and Pooya Aledvood

In King City, Ontario, Canada, lies a large outdoor concrete sculpture (I’d call it a wall) built in 1972 in a farmer’s field. It is an example of contemporary ecological art named “Shift” by the acclaimed sculptor Richard Serra. Jeff and I also watched a documentary about it.

So interesting how six concrete walls have created such a stir over the years for various reasons.

4. Character “Shift” in The Chronicles of Narnia

Keith Robinson

It’s been awhile since I’ve read book 7, The Last Battle, in the Narnia series. I’d forgotten there is a character named Shift. He’s a talking ape, “the cleverest, ugliest, most wrinkled Ape you can imagine.”

In the book, Shift appoints himself to be a fake spokesman for Aslan. He’s quite shifty (deceptive) and his character shifts (changes) throughout the book. 

Share With Us

If there’s something you’re interested in, take another look. Ask a new question. There’s always more to learn.

Share your discoveries in a comment below or link a blog post (open until October 10).

Upcoming: Our October monthly linkup opens Monday, October 26.

Question for you:

What’s something new you’re discovering? Share in the comments. 

If you’d like to receive our monthly One Word emails and ideas for 2026, join here.

• • Get more One Word ideas here

Link Up About Your One Word

We’re rushing. My husband Jeff and I hurriedly grab a seat beside five other participants at the round table labeled “Convo Table 1” under the tent. They’ve already begun.

It’s a hot September day. A fan is blowing air our direction. I settle in as comfortably as I can into my chair for the next hour.

The leader passes us his handout.

I look at the title.

That’s when the first uh-oh hits.

Did we sit at the wrong table?

We Don’t Always Choose the Same

While Jeff and I come to the Wild Goose Festival together—and leave together—we don’t always stay here together. Every hour offers multiple sessions.

And we rarely choose the same ones.

At one hour, you may find me deep in emotional conversations with fellow contemplatives at “Death Cafe,” while at the same hour Jeff is laughing it up with new friends at “Pub Trivia.”

No judgment on either of us. Both tracks are great. No right or wrong.

So when I convince him to join me for the 4:00 session called “Fishbowl Circle Conversations,” I want it to be good. For both of us.

The conversations are to center around this: “One thing we’re not talking about, but we should be talking about is…”
Sounds both fun and enlightening.

I look again at this handout in front of me—with its tiny font and words crowded together on front and back pages. I glance sideways at Jeff also looking at it.

I start feeling sick.

The topic listed is definitely something we’ve not been talking about.
But neither is it something I want to spend the next hour talking about.

I whisper to Jeff, “Maybe this is just a sample conversation starter?”

His eyes answer: What have you gotten me into?

I search frantically for the festival schedule.

We’re sitting at Convo Table 1.
The session I had circled for the fishbowl conversation is at…Convo Table 2.

What do we do now?

The Polite Thing to Do

I was brought up to be polite.

Every good Southern girl is trained that “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” To pull your car to the side of the road when a funeral procession passes by, no matter the hurry you’re in. To offer a “Bless your heart” at the appropriate moment.

So to get up and leave this table midstream just because it’s boring to me?
Unthinkably rude.

But staying here for an hour, knowing I got Jeff into this mess (and he’d be even more bored by this topic than I am!), also seems disrespectful. To him and to me.

I look again at Jeff. I whisper, “Can we just…leave?”

He’s already gathering his things.

I wait for a tiny break in the speaker’s monologue and then announce, “I’m so sorry, but we’re at the wrong table.”

We set our handouts back on the table, stand up, and walk away.

Sometimes, Just Leave

There are many lessons I could have learned that day—including triple-checking the location next time.

But the lesson I’m taking away is that sometimes I am going to end up at the wrong table. (Sometimes it’s even the table I thought I wanted.)

I’ve often stayed too long in places I needed to leave sooner, simply because I didn’t want to appear rude. Or didn’t want to admit I made a mistake. Or I was slow to even realize this table wasn’t for me.

Sometimes that’s been okay. I learned things. Some of them quite valuable things.

But other times, it’s just been wrong. Period. And there was no value in staying.

When those times come, I want to be quicker to admit the error. And leave. Change course. Go a different direction.

I’m happy to report that after leaving Table 1 for Table 2 that Friday, we had amazing fishbowl conversations, experimenting with a format I’ve never used before (and have since used at home!).

But that’s a lesson for another day. . . .

I’m not going to tell you what topic was on the handout at Table 1, lest I offend anyone. What I found terribly boring might be something you could talk about for hours. 😉

Share your thoughts in the comments.

My husband Jeff asks if I’d like a turn with the shovel.

“Yes.”

On this smoldering Thursday afternoon at a campground in North Carolina, I shovel a few piles of dirt back into the hole around the newly planted tree.

But there is more than a tree being planted today. The dozen people around me and I have already put something important into the hole, too.

This was our first event on the opening Thursday afternoon of the Wild Goose Festival. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from this experience we’d chosen to participate in: “Planting Trees and Commitments to Peace.”

The description in the schedule said that while we’d actually plant trees on site, we’d also plant commitments to regenerate life—not only here, but in our own lives.

That was enough information for me.
I am all in.

Remember Your Trees

We had already gathered in a circle underneath a canopy.

Since this was a four-day, completely outdoor festival, the facilitators Pablo and Aaron began by giving thanks to the earth for all it would give us over the weekend. Pablo reminded us, “Dogs may be man’s best friend, but trees are man’s best neighbor.”

Our gratitude was something small we could give back.

We then took turns telling why each of us had chosen to participate in this tree-planting session.

I went back twenty years. On a spring day, I had been inside our home when I began hearing thuds outside. Trees in the lot next to our house were falling. I ran outside to see bulldozers pushing one huge tree after another to the ground.

I knew the land belonged to a cultural center that wanted to expand. They already had a small building there. Now they wanted to move into something larger.

So the trees had to get out of the way.

I was heartbroken watching the giant beauties fall one after the other.

It was in that moment that I realized how much I loved trees. And how I never wanted to take trees for granted again.

The feeling has stayed with me.

After sharing this story with the group, I listened to others share their own stories:

• Jeff talked about the fun we had a week earlier watching our nephews break up fallen hickory nuts.
• Another man told about sitting beneath a favorite tree with his grandfather.
• A woman said walking among trees helped her find peace during a difficult season.

Different memories, but a common thread: trees are living things themselves.
And they give us peace, hope, and life in more ways than we realize.

The Two Questions

After the circle discussion, we were each given a piece of paper and asked to answer two questions:

1. What do you need to release?
2. What do you need to embrace?

I took the questions seriously. For my own peace and for peace in the world, what did I need to let go of, and what did I need to hold together?

After writing down my answers, I folded the paper and put it in my pocket.

We moved to a nearby small hill on the campground where two medium-sized trees waited in pots, each native to North Carolina.

Several people took turns with shovels, digging two good-sized holes. When the holes were deep and wide enough, we each tore our papers in half.

One half went into one hole.
The other half went into the other.

Then we planted the trees.

Dirt.
Mulch.
Water for the willow oak tree.

Dirt.
Mulch.
Water for the bald cypress tree.

Planting for Change

I throw in my last few shovelfuls of dirt and pass the shovel to someone else.

All done, we tighten our circle once more, gathering around the newly planted trees. An Indigenous man in our group sings a blessing in his original language.

The ritual is simple. And meaningful.

As the weekend goes on, Aaron and Pablo lead three more groups with similar ceremony and commitment, planting a total of eight trees with the campground owner’s permission and delight.

Now, two weeks later, I find myself still thinking about all those pieces of paper melting back into the earth alongside the tree roots.

The thing on my paper that I wanted to release hasn’t magically disappeared, of course. The thing I wanted to embrace isn’t something I’ve completely figured out either.

Yet I’ll continue working on both. I owe it to myself. And to the trees.

Change doesn’t always happen quickly. Sometimes it comes one shovelful at a time.

A little dirt.
A little mulch.
A little water.

Every Shift Counts

If I return to North Carolina next year, I hope to walk back to the two trees we planted and note how much they’ve grown.

I realize two new trees in the ground won’t change the planet. It won’t undo the harm we continue to pound upon our home.

But I also planted part of myself on that small hill in North Carolina.

Planting the trees shifted something in me. Maybe I’ll have grown some too in a year’s time. 

And any change in the right direction, however small, makes a difference.

Is there something you want to release? To embrace? Share your thoughts in the comments.

Some changes we create ourselves. Other changes may be imposed upon us by other people’s choices. And some changes happen to us because, well, that’s just how life works.

This month, my focus for my yearly word Shift has been on accepting the last two kinds of changes—the unchosen shifts.

I’ve tried to consciously notice how I respond to unchosen changes—ignore them? fight them? judge them?—and see what happens if I simply accept them before deciding what to do next.

Each month I link my Share 4 Somethings post with Jenn.

I also share here my One Second Everyday video from the previous month.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

1. Something I Love

• REDISCOVERING WHAT I LEFT BEHIND

When I was younger, I did a lot of cross-stitching. Somewhere along the way I stopped. It’s been years since I’ve done any kind of needlework.

So I didn’t know how much I would still enjoy it until I attended my daughter Jenna’s embroidery workshop at a local flower farm near us.

With a piece of lavender in front of us picked straight from the farm, Jenna did a great job leading us to create our own lavender needlework piece. I was surprised that I especially liked creating alongside other people because typically I only do creative projects on my own. I’m hoping to attend her September workshop, too.

Doing embroidery again showed me that not every shift has to be resisted. Some changes can simply remind us that we can return to something we once laid down, in a new season and in a new way.

my imperfect but finished embroidery

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

2. Something Sustaining Me

• UNEXPECTED TIME WITH FRIENDS

Sometimes I make intricate plans weeks ahead of time. Other times, things just happen. That’s how this month worked out with friends.

With no more than a day or a week’s planning, I ended up getting one-on-one meals with six different friends this month. And I loved it!

I appreciated the conversations with each friend, hearing their unique goings-on in their lives and learning to see the world a little differently through their eyes.

I’m grateful the month unfolded this way without my foreknowledge (my introverted self might have nixed such a crazy plan as much too much!).

Sometimes making room for short-notice gatherings allows us to appreciate the gifts from spontaneity we might otherwise have avoided.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

3. Something Carrying Me Forward

• NEW PLACES FOR A CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE

My husband Jeff and I took a short trip to St. Augustine, Florida, last week, and discovered it wears the “oldest” title in many areas in the continental United States: oldest continuously inhabited European-established settlement, oldest masonry fort, oldest public street, oldest known planned Black settlement, and much more.

It was a lot of new knowledge about old things.

Castillo de San Marcos, the oldest masonry fort in the continental United States, built 1672-1695

Dr. King preached several times at St. Paul AME Church in St. Augustine, FL, in the 1960s, originally founded in 1873

We have a different kind of trip planned for this month: a return to fill up our spirits at the annual Wild Goose Festival.

I keep finding that when I put myself in different places and among different people, my world expands in ways I couldn’t plan for or intentionally choose.

A change of scenery often sparks a shift in perspective—and sometimes that’s exactly what I need, even when I don’t realize I need it.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

4. Something I’m Making Space For

• CHANGES ALREADY UNDERWAY

This one isn’t as fun.

I’m trying to learn more about data centers.

Along with the rest of the world, data centers are becoming more of an issue in my state of Alabama. I want to understand them better so I can make educated decisions when I have opportunities to vote or speak up.

We’ll be electing a new governor on November 3. One candidate has announced he’s eager to multiply our data centers while the other candidate suggests we slow down and decide on guard rails first.

A few weeks ago I attended a local presentation at my library on the environmental impact of data centers. I learned that data centers are already operating in my area, with additions being considered. I also learned what questions to ask to better compare the different types of centers.

The world continues to shift in this direction, whether we’re ready or not. (I’m not.)

Accepting change doesn’t mean we have to like the change. But it’s helpful to face what’s happening so when we do have choices to make, we can choose wisely.

What are you making room for that you didn’t choose? What was a highlight of your August? Share in the comments.

I’m linking at these blog parties

One reason I love choosing a word to guide my year is because I get to spend twelve months thinking about what it means to me.

But the same word doesn’t mean the same thing to every person.

So this month, get a fresh perspective on your word by having a few conversations about it.

You don’t need a One Word to try this. Pick a value, question, or idea you’ve been thinking about and ask three people what it means to them.

We often learn something new about things that matter to us when we hear what they mean to others.

Start Three Conversations

Over the next week or so, choose three people—from friends, family, coworkers, neighbors—and start a casual conversation with each one about your word or topic.

Here are some questions you might ask to get the conversation going about your word or something you’ve been thinking about—a value you’re living by, a question you’re considering, a quality you admire.

• When you hear about this, what comes to mind?
• What do you think is the opposite of it?
• How often do you encounter this in everyday life?
• What’s one way you think I could practice it?

Just go wherever the conversation takes you.

What Will You Discover?

You may be surprised to discover that someone else thinks differently about your word in a way you haven’t even considered.

That’s part of the joy of conversation. We don’t have to figure out everything on our own. We’re designed for community, so let’s take advantage of it.

You may discover something new about the person you’re talking with as well.

Shifting Thoughts

Here are a few things I learned when I had three conversations about my One Word Shift. Not surprisingly, none of these people noticed Shift as often as in their daily lives as I do since I’m listening for it. 

hubby gave me some “Shift” stickers

Define Shift

I love the range of meanings I heard. All three people had different definitions. Each person approached it from a different perspective, which is exactly the kind of input I wanted. 

• Gear shift on a car
• A change in direction
• Off-kilter

Opposite of Shift

Again, I got three different answers, giving me even more to think about. 

• Automatic
• Stagnation
• Stable

Practicing Shift

Suggesting ways to practice Shift is harder, but I did get these suggestions.

• Buy a vehicle that’s not automatic (this one is from my husband, lol)
• Change the way you believe or react to something
• Do something out of the ordinary

Fittingly, after hearing someone else’s perspectives, I’m shifting the way I think about Shift.

Sometimes a shift can be dramatic, like a complete change in direction. Or a shift may be more subtle, like changing from “automatic” to “manual” mode in my thinking. Or a shift can be action-filled, breaking me free from a stagnant season to try something out of the ordinary.

Share With Us

If you have conversations too about your word or topic, I’d love to hear about them. Share your experiences in a comment below, in a blog post for our linkup (open now until September 9), or in our One Word Facebook group.

Sometimes our words grow more meaningful when we stop considering them alone and start talking about them with others.

Our September monthly linkup opens Saturday, September 26.

Question for you:

Who is someone you would like to have a conversation with about your word or a topic that’s on your mind? Share in the comments. 

If you’d like to receive our monthly One Word emails and ideas for 2026, join here.

• • Get more One Word ideas here

Link Up About Your One Word

It Started With “Publish”

Eighteen years ago today, August 8, 2008, I clicked “publish” on my very first blog post.

Although I’d known for years that I loved to write—actually needed to write—as a way of clarifying thoughts in my head, I had no idea how much I would also love blogging.

And even more surprising, I didn’t know how much I would love the blogging community.

You all have been such a vibrant, intelligent, curious, and especially kind group of people all over the world. I thank you for the sweet messages you’ve left in my little corner of the internet over these past 18 years. And for welcoming me to your own sites to learn about your worlds, too.

It’s been an amazing journey.

And a lot has shifted in 18 years.

Today I look back at four snapshots on my anniversary date (or close to it) on the blog:

• 10 years ago
• 5 years ago
• 2 years ago
• last year

What I find are four unique moments in time. Four versions of myself.

Yet one ongoing story.

Trusting That We’ll Get Through

10 Years Ago—August 2016

This has obviously been a common theme for me for years: How can I know that things will work out?

Well, we can’t know how things will work out, that’s for sure.

But what I was learning ten years ago—and continue to learn now—is that whatever happens, as long as we have humans around us who care about other humans, things will work out, one way or another.

We can get through it together.

“When one person approaches another person not just despite their differences, but because of their differences, we’re going to be okay.”

Ten years later, I still believe this. But my understanding of what “things working out” actually means has shifted some. It doesn’t mean that things will turn out the way we plan or hope for.

Maybe it just means that whatever happens, we can keep going. And that’s enough.

Why I Know It Will Work Out

~  ~  ~

Finding New Life After Loss

5 Years Ago—August 2021

Five years ago, we’d already been living with Covid for more than a year, experiencing sickness and death all around us. It was a tiring time.

In my own life, I was on the cusp of a deep personal loss. While the “death” hadn’t yet fully happened when I wrote this post (it would be a few more months), I suppose I was already preparing myself.

It’s been a healthy reminder now as I look again at these “5 Ways to Deal With Your Thousand Little Deaths.”

“Look for signs of new life in each individual death.
Life and love are stronger than death. May they live on forever.”

I needed those words then. I need them still now.

I continue to shift in how I view and process loss. It’s difficult, however you experience it. Loss can’t be avoided, but there are ways to carry loss more gently. And with more compassion for ourselves as we make room for new life to emerge.

5 Ways to Deal With Your Thousand Little Deaths

~  ~  ~

Sometimes Your Words Say More Than You Write

2 Years Ago—August 2024

On my 16th blogging anniversary, I listed reasons that many of us continue to blog.

One of my own reasons was that “throwing something on my blog every few days” can sometimes produce profound things even when I have nothing profound to say.

“Whatever it is you expect to give by blogging, I hope you give it.
But I also hope you receive so much more in return.”

I certainly have received much more than I’ve given.

My blogging topics may have shifted over the years, but my basic reason for blogging hasn’t: I still need to put words to what I’m experiencing and to process through it with other people.

We all continue to change.

So the conversations continue, too.

Why Do You Blog? You Might Be Surprised {My 16th Blogging Anniversary}

~  ~  ~

Letting the Past Keep Teaching Us

1 Year Ago—August 2025

Last year, I had been rereading my late mother’s journals—and being greatly touched by them.

One question I asked myself then—and still do now—is: What can I still learn from the past?

Reading more about my mother’s life, I learned more about her.

But I learned more about me, too.

“I also find me on these pages. Because of who she was, I am who I am. Life ripples on, one generation through another.”

While the past may be fixed in time, our memories are fluid. As we reflect back and remember, we can reframe our perspectives to more accurately reflect what we know now.

Before You Box Up the Past, Ask This One Question First

~  ~  ~

Still Here: One Ongoing Story

Reading through some of my older posts, I cringe at things I wrote back then. Just as I will likely cringe 10 years from now if I read some of this year’s posts.

But maybe that’s okay?

Maybe seeing the shifts we make from year to year, and from decade to decade, reminds us that we’re never standing still.

We continue to move and grow as life changes around us.

The older I get, the more I’m aware of the impermanence of life, especially this year as I focus on Shift, my One Word for 2026.

And even when things change drastically, we don’t have to start over completely from scratch. We may look at old stories differently. And grow more comfortably into new stories that we couldn’t have imagined before.

So thank you to those who may be reading my blog for the first time today, and to those who may have actually been here for years and years.

Several of you have become dear friends, on and off the blog. For that, I am very grateful, more than you know.

Here’s to more time together in the future.
May we stay curious.
And stay open to the next shifts as we continue becoming more fully ourselves.

I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

July was filled with ordinary moments but ones still worth remembering for how they grew my world a little bigger. Below are four that have stayed with me.

I’m linking with Jenn and also sharing my previous month’s One Second Everyday video.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

1. Something I Love

• FINDING MY WORD IN THE WILD

Every night I ask my husband Jeff, “Are you ready for words?” That’s our cue to play the five New York Times word games that we tackle every night: Wordle, Spelling Bee, Connections, Strands, and Crossword Puzzles (Mini and Midi).

I absolutely love that he will do this with me. I am admittedly a word nerd, and he’s not. But he’s a kind man and goes along with it. (He’s also smart, and I need his help!)

Twice lately, Connections has used my One Word—Shift—in the puzzle. In this last puzzle, though, I had no idea what one of the related answers meant: Doppler Shift. I had to look it up.

A doppler shift is the change in frequency as a source and observer move closer together or farther apart. For example, an ambulance siren sounds high-pitched coming toward you, but sounds lower-pitched after it passes you. That’s a doppler shift. (But don’t ask me to explain it.)

One more small thing learned. And in a fun way.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

2. Something Sustaining Me

• SEEING THROUGH SOMEONE ELSE’S EYES

Every three months, my daughter Jenna and I attend our local Domestic Violence Coalition as representatives of our local Moms Demand Action group. I always learn new things there—usually something that makes me very sad about what people can do to each other and also something hopeful about the beautiful attempts made by other people to help those being treated horribly.

This month, two presenters began the meeting by speaking only through sign language for a couple minutes.

As they continued on, I noticed how uncomfortable I began feeling. Were they aware that many of us couldn’t understand them? Was the whole session going to be this way?

Then an interpreter stepped in.

The exercise was intentional. For just a few moments, we all got to experience a tiny glimpse of what deaf people regularly face.

Then they told us of the additional challenges a deaf survivor of domestic violence may face when trying to communicate with police about it. I’m ashamed to say I’d never even thought of that.

They went on to share some wonderful services available in these heartbreaking situations.

The real solution, of course, would be to stop domestic violence altogether. But until then, I’m grateful for people who work in ways I’d never thought of to give survivors the support they need.

I walked out of that meeting with a little more understanding—not only because I learned new facts, but also from briefly experiencing life from another person’s perspective.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

3. Something Carrying Me Forward

• PRESERVING OUR STORIES

Forgive me for belaboring my struggle for years with my ongoing photos project. The good news is I reached another milestone this month in organizing my digital photos. I’ve now printed another year’s worth—2020—for my physical albums.

I love digital photos, but I love physical albums more, ones that I can flip through with my family. It’s important to me to make sure the stories we’ve already lived together don’t get lost on an outdated thumb drive somewhere or stay buried in the cloud on a defunct account after I’m dead.

But the bad news? It took me an entire year to finish the 2020 photos. I completed my 2019 album back in July 2025. At this pace, I’ll forever be six years behind.

So I’ve made a plan going forward. If I dedicate a little more time to this project each week instead of working on it only now and then, I just might finish both 2021 and 2022 by the end of this year, leaving me only three years behind.

Possible? Yes.
Probable? I’m not sure . . .

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

4. Something I’m Making Space For

• A NEW CONVERSATION

It’s almost time for the annual Wild Goose Festival that Jeff and I have been attending since 2023. The past few months the organizers have begun announcing topics, speakers, musical artists, and other interesting items on the schedule.

This week they announced they’ll also host book club conversations during the weekend. From among the four book selections, I’m choosing to read How We Learn to Be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith by Mariann Edgar Budde.

Budde is the Episcopal bishop in Washington, D.C., who spoke at the 2025 inaugural prayer service, asking the president “to have mercy on the people in our country who are scared now.”

I’m looking forward to reading the book and getting to discuss it with others in a month.

A good book plus a good conversation is one of my favorite ways to expand my world.

—

As I was living it, I didn’t connect the dots with how my world was growing a a little larger this month through words, through empathy, through memories, and through preparing for new conversations still to come.

Nothing major. Just subtle little shifts that hopefully add up over time.

What was a highlight of your July? Share in the comments.

I’m linking at these blog parties

Every summer we do a One Word Sensory Challenge. It’s a way to experience our words instead of just thinking about them.

This month, I invite you to explore your One Word through three of your senses. Choose one challenge or try all three!

1. Touch It

If your word had a texture, what would it feel like?
Would it be smooth like satin or rough like tree bark?
Soft, prickly, heavy, warm, cool, or airy?

Try this:

• Find an object that captures the feeling of your word.
• Create something with clay, Play-Doh, fabric, or natural materials.
• Notice how different textures help you connect with your word.

For my own One Word this year, Shift, I feel it as slippery. Also warm because it’s in motion. And light and airy because it’s always on the move.  

2. Taste It

If your word had a flavor, what would it be?
Sweet like honey? Bitter like dark chocolate? Salty, spicy, tart, or refreshing?

Try this:

• As you eat today, notice which flavors remind you of your word.
• Choose one food or drink that represents your word and savor it slowly.
• Draw a picture of that food or write a few sentences about why it fits your word.

For Shift, I imagine sour balls (they start out as one thing, then explode into something else the longer you suck on them) and Charms blow pops (the outside is hard, then cracks open and inside is chewy bubble gum).

3. Hear It

What does your word sound like?
Maybe you hear it in birdsong, running water, a favorite song, or even in silence.

Try this:

• Listen for sounds that remind you of your word.
• Add songs to a playlist inspired by your word.
• Say your word aloud several times, noticing how it sounds and how it makes you feel.

For Shift, I hear it as an appliance, like my A/C turning off and on, or the refrigerator cycling throughout the day. Also, animal sounds, like bird songs on my daily walk or dogs barking in the neighborhood.

You might even give yourself bonus points by imagining what your word smells like!

Sometimes our One Word becomes clearer when we stop trying to figure it out and simply experience it.

Share Your One Word Update

Share your reflections in the comments below or link up your own One Word post. The linkup will remain open until midnight, Sunday, August 9, 2026.

You’re also welcome to share your photos and discoveries in our One Word Facebook Group throughout the month.

I’m looking forward to seeing what you discover.

Looking ahead: Our August One Word linkup opens Wednesday, August 26.

Question for you:

Which of these three challenges—touching, tasting, or hearing your One Word—works the best for you, and why? Share in the comments.

If you’d like to receive our monthly One Word emails and ideas for 2026, join here.

• • Get more One Word ideas here

Link Up About Your One Word

On July 1, I pulled the little frame out of my One Word jar.

I rested it against the outside of the jar. It’s a simple gesture—this monthly change of symbols—but an intentional one.

The July focus for my One Word, Shift, is Reframe—specifically, shifting identities that no longer fit.

Because what we frame is what we preserve.

What We Choose to Frame

The following week, I (finally!) got my turn with the popular novel Theo of Golden from my library. When I came across this passage, I had to pause.

“How is it,” Theo wondered, “that a piece of paper—a letter, a photo, a ticket stub, a sketch, a painting—is suddenly transformed by placing it in four bits of wood beneath a pane of glass? What does it mean that we place permanent boundaries around transient moments? What does it say of humankind that we take such trouble to freeze specific memories, that we devote such energy to capturing and preserving the ‘minute particulars’ of our lives?”

Yes, Theo. I also am wondering.

When we love something so much that we put it behind glass and surround it with a frame, we’re immortalizing it. We’re saying, This matters to me.

For a long while—maybe for decades—this may hold true.

But sometimes? That immortalizing might keep us from noticing what we’ve been outgrowing. And what new things want to come to light.

I’ve been asking myself these questions this month.

• What have I framed about myself that no longer fits?
• Which interests have faded away?
• What stories do I tell myself that are no longer true?

Loosening the Back of the Frame

I started a list: Things I No Longer Need to Be.

At the very top is a role I’ve desperately wanted to keep. But it’s one I can no longer fully inhabit, for reasons beyond my control.

I’ve resisted that reality for a long time. Part of me still does. I don’t want to let it go. Maybe one day the opportunity will return, and I can wear the identity of that role once more. So for now, I don’t throw away the frame.

But I do make a shift.

I loosen up the little tabs on the back of the metaphorical frame. I toy with reframing this piece of my identity a bit differently. Place it on a higher shelf. At least for a little while longer.

I leave space for the story that is still unfolding.

Leaving the Frame Empty

Then I made a second list: New Things to Try—Without Defining Myself by Them.

I jotted down a handful of possibilities. Some small. Some large. But with no pressure. No permanent tying of my identity with them. Just curiosity.

I’ve seen how the world shifts. And how it shifts me.

So I won’t rush to place these new possibilities behind glass either.

Maybe someday.
Maybe never.

For now, I simply hold the literal empty frame in my hands and imagine all the photographs it has displayed over the years.

Today it holds none.

Not because there are no pictures to place inside it, but because there are still so many possibilities.

Perhaps that’s what reframing really is—honoring the past, while leaving enough space for the next picture to emerge.

Is there an identity or label you wear that could use a reframe, too? Share in the comments.

When Panic Takes Over

My friend answers the phone. It’s a stranger in distress.

The caller is having a medical emergency. His words overflow in a panic—fear, confusion, details that don’t quite matter.

I’d be tempted to interrupt with, “Calm down. I can’t understand you.”

But that’s one thing my friend does NOT say.
Because she knows it doesn’t help.

This is her job. She works for a medical answering service. She knows exactly what to do.

She also knows that people in crisis usually can’t “just calm down” merely because someone tells them to.

When our nervous system gets flooded with stress hormones, the emotional part of our brain takes over. It’s biology. In those moments, people don’t need someone to tell them to be rational. Hearing that advice might actually make it worse, causing more frustration, making them feel dismissed.

What they need is someone who can remain steady alongside them until they can think clearly again on their own.

A Steady Presence

So on the call, my friend falls back on her training. She shows empathy, but she remains focused on her role: get help for the person in need.

In a reassuring tone, she asks the right questions about the caller’s symptoms so she can determine if this is a life-threatening emergency that should go directly to 911 or if the situation needs another solution. She makes sure they understand any next steps they need to take. She gathers their callback information.

She gently but firmly keeps the conversation focused on what matters most.

I’ve never heard her on one of these calls, but I can imagine why she’s so good at her job. I know how well she listens to me when I’m upset. She asks good questions. She gives me reassurance. She doesn’t dismiss my feelings.

She never tells me to “just calm down.”

She simply stays with me until I do.

Some Things Don’t Need to Shift

As I continue to work this year with my One Word—Shift—I’m looking at the many things that change in life. Some shifts we make ourselves; others happen without our permission.

But some things don’t need to shift.

Some things are worth protecting, kept just as they are.

My friend’s ability to stay focused on what matters most in a crisis reminds me of the kind of person I want to be.

I want to listen well.
I want to ask good questions.
I want to stay focused on the main thing.

And I want my presence to communicate what my friend’s steady presence communicates to me: even when life keeps shifting, love doesn’t have to.

What helps you when you’re overwhelmed? Share your thoughts in the comments.