To 18yo Me
6. What you think matters today will probably not matter so much tomorrow, so relax just a little. Tomorrow will take care of itself.
Ah, if only someone had come back in time and told me this for real!
When you're going through something hard, doesn't it feel very encompassing? Living in the present, that fight you're going through, that obstacle you're climbing, that relationship you're trying to save. It all feels SO important, as if your very life and happiness depends on whether you can climb THIS hill. It's upsetting, it takes all your concentration. It's hard! You fall down and have to start over. You slip backwards. You climb and climb and climb, and it feels like you aren't making any progress at all. And it is SO FRUSTRATING.
It is here that I have found it helpful to turn around and look back, to turn around and look at all the little hills I've climbed in my life's road in the past. Each of them seemed just like this. Insurmountable, impossible to conquer. They absorbed every ounce of my energy, my thoughts, my emotions. But, they were conquered. Not only that, as I look back, maybe sometimes I realize that, in the grand scheme of my life, they really weren't that big of a deal. Things that I allowed to take #1 importance, things that I got so worked up about... with time and distance and perspective, they become so much less important.
When Joel and I were engaged, we were planning our move to Southern California. We got married at home in Eugene, but after our honeymoon, we were driving down to California where we attended college... moving into our first apartment. We needed a refrigerator. We were pitifully poor college students, so we were going to find one Used. Now, for some reason, I got it into my head that we needed to buy a refrigerator BEFORE WE MOVED. I don't know why this seemed important, and please don't ask me. I was firmly in the midst of CRAZY BRIDE BRAIN. Joel was appropriately baffled by my insistence, and was just as insistent that I was talking crazy and we were not going to be getting one until we arrived in California (because that actually makes sense... but in my defense, he was not a crazy bride.... ok, that's not really much of a defense). In the end, he won out, and we moved, and quickly found a refrigerator, and all normality was restored. Sometimes I look back at that time, and just laugh at myself. What on earth was I thinking and why was it so important?
The thing is, I can apply that to more serious situations too... that break-up at 15. That girl who made me crazy and gets ready to be raptured every September. Lots of things... some long ago, some more recent. I can look back now and laugh at the things I let myself get so absorbed by... things that I've grown past and away from, things I can see with perspective now.
And it helps. Knowing that, five years from now, I will look back and laugh at the things I'm climbing over now... it helps to keep them from being all-encompassing. It helps to be able to see these things as bumps in the road, and not mountains I can't climb.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
There Is Hope
When it all comes crashing down...
When the sky falls and the mountains crumble
When your heart breaks and your soul cries out
There is hope.
When you hit rock bottom
When all love has fled
When your faith drips away
There is hope.
The bottom has no stairs leading down.
There is nowhere to fall when you're already in the basement.
When you are here, there is nowhere to go but up.
And so there is hope.
The hard can become easy.
The bittersweet can turn sweet.
The mountains can be rebuilt.
And there yet remains hope.
You Have No Power Over Me
"Give me the child.
Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered,
I have fought my way to the castle beyond the goblin city.
My will is as strong as yours... and my kingdom as great."
*checks to see if my memory was accurate*.. Close.
This week marked the 25th anniversary of Jim Henson's movie, Labyrinth. Oh, I loved this movie as a child. I can't tell you how many times I watched it... Do you have movies or books that fit that one little spot in your heart? They embody something precious, and maybe even a little sacred, from your childhood... Something that you can hardly bear to hear criticism about because you feel this almost-protective feeling toward? That was Labyrinth for me.
I watched it again last night, and I loved it just as much as I ever did. I'm not sure my children were as thrilled with my sudden propensity to recite the lines right along with the characters, though. There were a few new things I picked up that I don't think I'd ever noticed before. Like you know the part where she's marking the labyrinth stones with her lipstick, and the little teensy guys are turning the stones over? One of them says "Your mother was a friggin' aardvark!!" I don't know why but it totally cracked me up... never noticed it.
I love these characters... the spoiled petulant girl who sets out to take the mistakes she made, and make them right. The dwarf who constantly wars between his own self-preserving fears and his growing love for the girl dropped into his life... but mostly a person who just doesn't believe that he is worthy of being loved. The oh-so-lovable Bluto... he just makes me smile and laugh. And the brave little... fox(?)... full of honor, full of heart, full of the need to prove his valor... but oh so little sense. Even Jareth, the Goblin King... ever misguided in his definitions of what love is.
25 years later, I'm still right there along with Sarah as she learns that life isn't fair and that's okay, as she learns the importance of friendship, and I still wait breathlessly as she tells the Goblin King...
"You have no power over me."
Indeed.
(Also, Dance Magic is a totally fun song!)
"You remind me of the babe... what babe... The babe with the power. What power? the power of voodoo. who do? You do. You remind me of the babe!"
Excuse me, I have some dancing to do...
Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered,
I have fought my way to the castle beyond the goblin city.
My will is as strong as yours... and my kingdom as great."
*checks to see if my memory was accurate*.. Close.
This week marked the 25th anniversary of Jim Henson's movie, Labyrinth. Oh, I loved this movie as a child. I can't tell you how many times I watched it... Do you have movies or books that fit that one little spot in your heart? They embody something precious, and maybe even a little sacred, from your childhood... Something that you can hardly bear to hear criticism about because you feel this almost-protective feeling toward? That was Labyrinth for me.
I watched it again last night, and I loved it just as much as I ever did. I'm not sure my children were as thrilled with my sudden propensity to recite the lines right along with the characters, though. There were a few new things I picked up that I don't think I'd ever noticed before. Like you know the part where she's marking the labyrinth stones with her lipstick, and the little teensy guys are turning the stones over? One of them says "Your mother was a friggin' aardvark!!" I don't know why but it totally cracked me up... never noticed it.
I love these characters... the spoiled petulant girl who sets out to take the mistakes she made, and make them right. The dwarf who constantly wars between his own self-preserving fears and his growing love for the girl dropped into his life... but mostly a person who just doesn't believe that he is worthy of being loved. The oh-so-lovable Bluto... he just makes me smile and laugh. And the brave little... fox(?)... full of honor, full of heart, full of the need to prove his valor... but oh so little sense. Even Jareth, the Goblin King... ever misguided in his definitions of what love is.
25 years later, I'm still right there along with Sarah as she learns that life isn't fair and that's okay, as she learns the importance of friendship, and I still wait breathlessly as she tells the Goblin King...
"You have no power over me."
Indeed.
(Also, Dance Magic is a totally fun song!)
"You remind me of the babe... what babe... The babe with the power. What power? the power of voodoo. who do? You do. You remind me of the babe!"
Excuse me, I have some dancing to do...
Monday, June 27, 2011
Unpacking: Missteps
To 18yo Me
5. Missteps are just that. One does not equal your failure.
Oh, I like this one.
I've often been an "all or nothing" kind of girl. When I decide to do something, I typically throw myself into it full-force. And oh boy, I better do it right. I've had the tendency to feel that if I mess up some part of it, then the whole thing is ruined and I may as well just throw in the towel, admit total defeat, and try my hand at something completely different.
What a silly way to see things, really.
It's taken me a long time to understand that a misstep, a mistake... they don't equal the end. They don't mean I've ruined the whole thing. They really do just mean a mistake. You can fix mistakes. You can learn from missteps. And you can keep going.
In fact, I think I might argue sometimes that mistakes are crucial. Sometimes the mistakes slow the end product's arrival a bit... but in the long-run, when we learn from our missteps and apply what we've learned to that end product, it makes the end result so much better than it ever could have been if we'd gone along perfectly on an unbumpy road.
I recently said to someone, "Falling off the wagon doesn't mean you have to set it on fire and go home. You can jump back on it!" I think it took me a long time to learn this... but I'm glad that I finally have (in general). It's still hard for me to accept my own failures sometimes, but I'm getting better at seeing those failures as bumps in the road, as opportunities to learn from my mistakes, as a bridge to a second chance.
Failure comes when you give up. Not when you mess up.
5. Missteps are just that. One does not equal your failure.
Oh, I like this one.
I've often been an "all or nothing" kind of girl. When I decide to do something, I typically throw myself into it full-force. And oh boy, I better do it right. I've had the tendency to feel that if I mess up some part of it, then the whole thing is ruined and I may as well just throw in the towel, admit total defeat, and try my hand at something completely different.
What a silly way to see things, really.
It's taken me a long time to understand that a misstep, a mistake... they don't equal the end. They don't mean I've ruined the whole thing. They really do just mean a mistake. You can fix mistakes. You can learn from missteps. And you can keep going.
In fact, I think I might argue sometimes that mistakes are crucial. Sometimes the mistakes slow the end product's arrival a bit... but in the long-run, when we learn from our missteps and apply what we've learned to that end product, it makes the end result so much better than it ever could have been if we'd gone along perfectly on an unbumpy road.
I recently said to someone, "Falling off the wagon doesn't mean you have to set it on fire and go home. You can jump back on it!" I think it took me a long time to learn this... but I'm glad that I finally have (in general). It's still hard for me to accept my own failures sometimes, but I'm getting better at seeing those failures as bumps in the road, as opportunities to learn from my mistakes, as a bridge to a second chance.
Failure comes when you give up. Not when you mess up.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Unpacking: Humor, Snark, Influence, and Friendship
To 18yo Me
The one where I step quite firmly on my own toes... These are not things I am proud of.
3. Humor at someone else's expense provides a satisfaction that lasts about 10 seconds. It is never worth the months of guilt that follow.
4. Who you spend your time with influences the person you are, so choose your friends wisely. If there is a quality you'd like to develop in yourself, find someone who exhibits it well, befriend them, and hope to God they haven't already learned this lesson.
A lifetime love of reading has left me with a vocabulary that likes to be used. A small talent for writing and a sense of humor has always combined to result in an ability to use that vocabulary to come quickly with cracks and jokes. Not a bad thing, inherently. I've always enjoyed being able to bring a smile or a laugh through something I've said or written. And there is inherent good in this... being able to use my own talents to make someone's hour a little brighter. But, there is a flipside of the coin, too.
I'm impatient. And I'm really impatient with stupid... or even just with whatever thing is bugging me. I can take deep breaths and determinedly resolve to ignore it for awhile. But there often comes a time when I snap. I don't think through what is about to come out of my mouth, and I quip. I do so knowing my audience. Knowing that there are people there who feel the same way I do, and that what is about to come out of me WILL be met with laughter. But it's laced with sarcasm, and it draws its humor from poking not-well-meant-fun at whoever is being stupid, whoever is bugging the crap out of me. THIS is not inherently good.
I will be honest... when I do it, there is a momentary relief. Hours or days or weeks or months of not saying what I really think... and there is a feeling of release. Of not holding it in anymore. On top of that, there is the satisfaction of the laugh. There is a community camaraderie amongst people who feel the same way, even if the same way is just plain mean. And there is a satisfaction, and perhaps too a smugness, in finally giving voice to what a group of people think.
But it doesn't last. Because this kind of humor always draws its humor from criticizing a person. From putting them down, from calling attention to where they lack. And it always results in hurt to them. When the satisfaction fades (and it always does), the only thing that is left behind is their pain and the guilty knowledge that I am responsible for it. At that point, there is nothing really that I can do to fix it. I can apologize. I can try to change how I relate too them. But it changes nothing about what I've done. It changes nothing about their hurt. And it changes nothing about my responsibility and culpability in that.
And this is why I've combined #3 and #4 together... for me, they are linked. I have learned that I often allow myself to be influenced by those around me in not-positive ways.
When I was in middle school, I was good friends with this one girl for a long time. Smart, very involved, clever, we were friends for a long time and she really pushed me to excel in school (in a good way). But, she was not nice to her mom or sister. Ever. I would often spend the night or the weekend at her house, and when I came home, that tendency would follow me home. I would spend the next few days being generally nasty to my sisters and mom, until I sort of got it out of my system and would revert back to normal. Though I think my mom saw it for what it was very early on, it took me a really long time to understand the connection and to see how the friendship affected my other relationships.
This has followed me into adulthood, as well. People who tend to exhibit a lot of snark are bad people for me to be in relationship with. Please let me be clear... they are not bad PEOPLE. My actions are my own choices, not theirs. And what I do after spending time with them is NOT their fault. But I understand my natural tendencies better now, and see that when I am around people who are naturally snarky, I am encouraged to be the same way. It gives me encouragement and confidence to exhibit it. At the time, I will think it's funny... but it's in retrospect that I realize that truly being snarky isn't funny. It's mean, and that isn't who I want to be.
On the other side of the coin, seeking out relationships with people who are good and kind encourage me to be more like them... I need and want that. I have a dear sweet friend who I have loved for years and years. We met online when my children were yet very young... and I am blessed to still have Stacey in my life today. She has always personified kindness to me. Maybe she works at it harder than it seems, but she's always exhibited a natural grace and kindness to those around her that I have envied. I look at her and think "I want to be more like that." And the more I am around her, the more I see things through a lens of understanding and compassion. She is my friend because she's funny and sweet and... well, because we love each other. But, she is also my teacher and someone I look to for how I can be a kinder person.
I find myself looking for people like Stacey now. Understanding the kind of person I want to be, and the kind of people that help to bring me closer to that person. People who bring out the best in me, and not the opposite. If you are one of those people (and if you're reading this, the chances are good that you are), thank you for taking me on. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for teaching me.
The one where I step quite firmly on my own toes... These are not things I am proud of.
3. Humor at someone else's expense provides a satisfaction that lasts about 10 seconds. It is never worth the months of guilt that follow.
4. Who you spend your time with influences the person you are, so choose your friends wisely. If there is a quality you'd like to develop in yourself, find someone who exhibits it well, befriend them, and hope to God they haven't already learned this lesson.
A lifetime love of reading has left me with a vocabulary that likes to be used. A small talent for writing and a sense of humor has always combined to result in an ability to use that vocabulary to come quickly with cracks and jokes. Not a bad thing, inherently. I've always enjoyed being able to bring a smile or a laugh through something I've said or written. And there is inherent good in this... being able to use my own talents to make someone's hour a little brighter. But, there is a flipside of the coin, too.
I'm impatient. And I'm really impatient with stupid... or even just with whatever thing is bugging me. I can take deep breaths and determinedly resolve to ignore it for awhile. But there often comes a time when I snap. I don't think through what is about to come out of my mouth, and I quip. I do so knowing my audience. Knowing that there are people there who feel the same way I do, and that what is about to come out of me WILL be met with laughter. But it's laced with sarcasm, and it draws its humor from poking not-well-meant-fun at whoever is being stupid, whoever is bugging the crap out of me. THIS is not inherently good.
I will be honest... when I do it, there is a momentary relief. Hours or days or weeks or months of not saying what I really think... and there is a feeling of release. Of not holding it in anymore. On top of that, there is the satisfaction of the laugh. There is a community camaraderie amongst people who feel the same way, even if the same way is just plain mean. And there is a satisfaction, and perhaps too a smugness, in finally giving voice to what a group of people think.
But it doesn't last. Because this kind of humor always draws its humor from criticizing a person. From putting them down, from calling attention to where they lack. And it always results in hurt to them. When the satisfaction fades (and it always does), the only thing that is left behind is their pain and the guilty knowledge that I am responsible for it. At that point, there is nothing really that I can do to fix it. I can apologize. I can try to change how I relate too them. But it changes nothing about what I've done. It changes nothing about their hurt. And it changes nothing about my responsibility and culpability in that.
And this is why I've combined #3 and #4 together... for me, they are linked. I have learned that I often allow myself to be influenced by those around me in not-positive ways.
When I was in middle school, I was good friends with this one girl for a long time. Smart, very involved, clever, we were friends for a long time and she really pushed me to excel in school (in a good way). But, she was not nice to her mom or sister. Ever. I would often spend the night or the weekend at her house, and when I came home, that tendency would follow me home. I would spend the next few days being generally nasty to my sisters and mom, until I sort of got it out of my system and would revert back to normal. Though I think my mom saw it for what it was very early on, it took me a really long time to understand the connection and to see how the friendship affected my other relationships.
This has followed me into adulthood, as well. People who tend to exhibit a lot of snark are bad people for me to be in relationship with. Please let me be clear... they are not bad PEOPLE. My actions are my own choices, not theirs. And what I do after spending time with them is NOT their fault. But I understand my natural tendencies better now, and see that when I am around people who are naturally snarky, I am encouraged to be the same way. It gives me encouragement and confidence to exhibit it. At the time, I will think it's funny... but it's in retrospect that I realize that truly being snarky isn't funny. It's mean, and that isn't who I want to be.
On the other side of the coin, seeking out relationships with people who are good and kind encourage me to be more like them... I need and want that. I have a dear sweet friend who I have loved for years and years. We met online when my children were yet very young... and I am blessed to still have Stacey in my life today. She has always personified kindness to me. Maybe she works at it harder than it seems, but she's always exhibited a natural grace and kindness to those around her that I have envied. I look at her and think "I want to be more like that." And the more I am around her, the more I see things through a lens of understanding and compassion. She is my friend because she's funny and sweet and... well, because we love each other. But, she is also my teacher and someone I look to for how I can be a kinder person.
I find myself looking for people like Stacey now. Understanding the kind of person I want to be, and the kind of people that help to bring me closer to that person. People who bring out the best in me, and not the opposite. If you are one of those people (and if you're reading this, the chances are good that you are), thank you for taking me on. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for teaching me.
Monday, June 20, 2011
St Edwards
As a Father's Day event yesterday, we surprised Joel with a trip to the Brewers' Festival in Kenmore. That's a fancy way of saying "a place with a lot of beer." Perhaps a slightly odd thing to do as a family, and I laughed about it as I planned it. But, Joel's very into micro-brews, and the thing was touted as a family friendly event, complete with activities for the kids. (This turned out to NOT be bobbing for apples in vats of hops, so it's all good.)
It ended up being nice... but "family"ish in the way that a cruise is "family"-friendly when you drop your kids off at the activities room all day. I took the kids to the bounce houses and served as the Official Bounce House Ticket Holder. Joel went off and sampled beer. But he was happy, the kids were happy, which makes Momma happy.
Also, I got an elephant ear, which I haven't had for years and years, but I crave them every time I go to the Center House at the Seattle Center. See, my grandparents ran this restaurant downtown when I was growing up. My dad worked there, and we'd often go to see him at work. To take the money to the bank, he would have to walk two blocks through the then-pedestrian-only downtown mall to make his deposit. And sometimes, he would take me with him. On Broadway and Willamette, at the big giant no-longer-there fountain, there was a stand that sold elephant ears. Sometimes, he'd let me get one. Very sweet happy childhood daddy memory, so those elephant ears hold beautiful nostalgic value for me.
The festival itself was held at St Edwards State Park, a beautiful little place I discovered about a year ago. It's a little far from our house, so I don't go there a LOT... but every time I do, I am struck by what a really nice piece of land it is. It used to be the site of a Catholic seminary, built in the 1930s. The building itself is quite impressive... in the grand scheme of things, West Coast architecture is all new, so it's nice to sit around and look at a building that feels old compared to that which we normally see. Sad that the place is in such disrepair inside.
Part of me laughed a bit that we were attending a Beer Festival at a Catholic seminary. Until Joel pointed out that prohibition was probably more of a Protestant thing...
I thought of all the teetotal (Thank you, Ryan Kelly, for adding that to my vocabulary) Irish Catholics I know... realized I don't know any... and thought, "Very good point."
It ended up being nice... but "family"ish in the way that a cruise is "family"-friendly when you drop your kids off at the activities room all day. I took the kids to the bounce houses and served as the Official Bounce House Ticket Holder. Joel went off and sampled beer. But he was happy, the kids were happy, which makes Momma happy.
Also, I got an elephant ear, which I haven't had for years and years, but I crave them every time I go to the Center House at the Seattle Center. See, my grandparents ran this restaurant downtown when I was growing up. My dad worked there, and we'd often go to see him at work. To take the money to the bank, he would have to walk two blocks through the then-pedestrian-only downtown mall to make his deposit. And sometimes, he would take me with him. On Broadway and Willamette, at the big giant no-longer-there fountain, there was a stand that sold elephant ears. Sometimes, he'd let me get one. Very sweet happy childhood daddy memory, so those elephant ears hold beautiful nostalgic value for me.
Part of me laughed a bit that we were attending a Beer Festival at a Catholic seminary. Until Joel pointed out that prohibition was probably more of a Protestant thing...
I thought of all the teetotal (Thank you, Ryan Kelly, for adding that to my vocabulary) Irish Catholics I know... realized I don't know any... and thought, "Very good point."
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Happy Father's Day to my husband
There are lots of things I could say about my husband for today... He's a great dad, and he tries really hard to be that. He tries to spend individual time with each of them... and with an often-demanding job, three children, and an occasionally high-strung *cough* wife to deal with, that's not easy.
I thought of a lot of things I could say here to tell you the kind of dad he is, the father he tries (mostly successfully) to be... But, I think this recent story probably sums it up.
Last week, Alicia's 3rd grade class had a little choir concert. They've been rehearsing in music class for the past month to polish up these 12 songs, and the concert was on Wednesday. I'm not sure what it is about this class of kids... they must be better-than-usual singers or something. I feel like they have a concert every year, and my 4th graders' never do. In any case, though she didn't say a lot about it (Alicia never does), it was clear that it was important to her that we be there.
Only problem is that it was at 11am. Could there be a more inconvenient time for a working parent to get to school??
Joel and I were discussing it in the kitchen the evening before.
"Are you going to be able to make it to Alicia's concert tomorrow? I think she really wants you to be there."
"I know," he said. "She's asked me a few times... It's a terrible time of the day. How important do you think it is?"
"Well... it's 3rd grade and she would get over it... but..." I paused and thought for a moment. "You're her daddy. Moms go to everything because that's what moms do. But, especially to girls, dads are important. I remember every event my dad showed up to. And I also remember that he was usually late."
"I'll see what I can do... but I might have to leave early for a noon meeting."
The next day came... Joel worked from home in the morning and then we went to school. As we walked into the library, I asked "Do we need to sit on the end of the aisle so you can sneak out early?"
He looked at me, "No. I decided I didn't really need to go to every meeting on my schedule."
I smiled and thought, "She'll remember. Even if she doesn't ever say anything, she'll remember."
And THAT is the kind of daddy I married. I have blessed little girls.
I thought of a lot of things I could say here to tell you the kind of dad he is, the father he tries (mostly successfully) to be... But, I think this recent story probably sums it up.Last week, Alicia's 3rd grade class had a little choir concert. They've been rehearsing in music class for the past month to polish up these 12 songs, and the concert was on Wednesday. I'm not sure what it is about this class of kids... they must be better-than-usual singers or something. I feel like they have a concert every year, and my 4th graders' never do. In any case, though she didn't say a lot about it (Alicia never does), it was clear that it was important to her that we be there.
Only problem is that it was at 11am. Could there be a more inconvenient time for a working parent to get to school??
Joel and I were discussing it in the kitchen the evening before.
"Are you going to be able to make it to Alicia's concert tomorrow? I think she really wants you to be there."
"I know," he said. "She's asked me a few times... It's a terrible time of the day. How important do you think it is?"
"Well... it's 3rd grade and she would get over it... but..." I paused and thought for a moment. "You're her daddy. Moms go to everything because that's what moms do. But, especially to girls, dads are important. I remember every event my dad showed up to. And I also remember that he was usually late."
"I'll see what I can do... but I might have to leave early for a noon meeting."
The next day came... Joel worked from home in the morning and then we went to school. As we walked into the library, I asked "Do we need to sit on the end of the aisle so you can sneak out early?"
He looked at me, "No. I decided I didn't really need to go to every meeting on my schedule."
I smiled and thought, "She'll remember. Even if she doesn't ever say anything, she'll remember."
And THAT is the kind of daddy I married. I have blessed little girls.
Unpacking: Kindness
To 18yo Me
2. Kindness matters. Don't miss an opportunity to exhibit it, even if it's inconvenient. Even if you think you'll look like an idiot. Kindness matters.
Kindness is not about being nice. They seem the same, but they are not. There's a line from the Sondheim musical, "Into the Woods," where the Witch is trying to get the rest of the group to do something, and I always think of it when this topic runs through my head.
"You're so nice. You're not good. You're not bad. You're just nice."
It's not a complimentary thing, this nice. Even allowing for it coming out of a witch's mouth, we know that. And we know she's right. Nice makes us polite. Nice means we play by the rules and we say the things we should to the faces of those involved. But being nice does not make us good... or kind. For this, we must dig far deeper than nice ever will.
Nice is easy. Nice maintains appearances. But KIND requires us to give something of ourselves. It asks us to go beyond nice. It asks us to sometimes step out of our comfort zones. It asks us to be the one to give when no one else is doing it. That sounds simple, but it isn't. Ever been in a group where they're all talking down about someone? It's awfully easy to play along, isn't it? Even if we don't agree... it's "nice" to not argue because then there is no conflict. There is no risk. There is no boatrocking.
But Kind says something. Kind speaks up for the one being talked about. Kind leaves the group and goes to speak good words into the ear of the Shunned one... even when doing so makes you the next Shunned one.
Being nice means little. Anyone can be nice. But being kind... Go on and ask the one who's been kind to. Kindness matters so much.
Don't fall into the trap of settling for nice. Have the courage to be Kind.
2. Kindness matters. Don't miss an opportunity to exhibit it, even if it's inconvenient. Even if you think you'll look like an idiot. Kindness matters.
Kindness is not about being nice. They seem the same, but they are not. There's a line from the Sondheim musical, "Into the Woods," where the Witch is trying to get the rest of the group to do something, and I always think of it when this topic runs through my head.
"You're so nice. You're not good. You're not bad. You're just nice."
It's not a complimentary thing, this nice. Even allowing for it coming out of a witch's mouth, we know that. And we know she's right. Nice makes us polite. Nice means we play by the rules and we say the things we should to the faces of those involved. But being nice does not make us good... or kind. For this, we must dig far deeper than nice ever will.
Nice is easy. Nice maintains appearances. But KIND requires us to give something of ourselves. It asks us to go beyond nice. It asks us to sometimes step out of our comfort zones. It asks us to be the one to give when no one else is doing it. That sounds simple, but it isn't. Ever been in a group where they're all talking down about someone? It's awfully easy to play along, isn't it? Even if we don't agree... it's "nice" to not argue because then there is no conflict. There is no risk. There is no boatrocking.
But Kind says something. Kind speaks up for the one being talked about. Kind leaves the group and goes to speak good words into the ear of the Shunned one... even when doing so makes you the next Shunned one.
Being nice means little. Anyone can be nice. But being kind... Go on and ask the one who's been kind to. Kindness matters so much.
Don't fall into the trap of settling for nice. Have the courage to be Kind.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Unpacking: The Bucket List
To 18yo Me
1. Your bucket list will change. What you want today may seem silly 10 years down the road. Change with it.
I like lists. I like to make lists. I like to brainstorm lists. I like to organize lists. Lists make me happy. (I'm sure there is some psychological anomaly mixed up in that, but I don't care enough at the moment to figure out what it is.)
Yes, I've made bucket lists... that list of everything you want to do and accomplish in your life. Like checking off each experience somehow brings you closer to having lived the life you wanted to live. I'm not sure it quite does, and maybe provides an illusion of accomplishment. But, I've still made them...
But, by necessity, they change. We grow, we change, we mature. Our life circumstances turn upside down from what we thought they'd be. The things I wanted to do at 20 years old are definitely not the same things I want to accomplish now. Indeed, there are many things on that 20yo's list that I never finished. Some of those could still find a place on a current list. But, for many of them, I just laugh and think "Oh darling, why did you ever want to that, you silly child?"
It occurs to me that I really haven't thought about my bucket list in a long while. Most of my 20s were spent surviving young parenthood. Accomplishing anything lofty was not on the list. Making it to tomorrow filled most of it. I'm not in young parenthood anymore. The stress of having three toddlers has been replaced by the stress of having 3 pre-teen girls... but it's a different stress. More mental, less physical. Maybe I'm just older because I feel far more equipped to deal with this than I did with young parenthood. Well, maybe that's not right. The beginning of puberty tells me that it's a long road ahead... but at the same time, I am doing more than just making it to tomorrow.
I'm embracing things that I haven't for a long time.... parenthood, marriage, friendship, reading, writing, music, history, beauty, growth, travel. Maybe it's time to think about what I want to do and be in this stage of my life... and go after it.
Besides, I'll have an excuse to make a list. :)
1. Your bucket list will change. What you want today may seem silly 10 years down the road. Change with it.
I like lists. I like to make lists. I like to brainstorm lists. I like to organize lists. Lists make me happy. (I'm sure there is some psychological anomaly mixed up in that, but I don't care enough at the moment to figure out what it is.)
Yes, I've made bucket lists... that list of everything you want to do and accomplish in your life. Like checking off each experience somehow brings you closer to having lived the life you wanted to live. I'm not sure it quite does, and maybe provides an illusion of accomplishment. But, I've still made them...
But, by necessity, they change. We grow, we change, we mature. Our life circumstances turn upside down from what we thought they'd be. The things I wanted to do at 20 years old are definitely not the same things I want to accomplish now. Indeed, there are many things on that 20yo's list that I never finished. Some of those could still find a place on a current list. But, for many of them, I just laugh and think "Oh darling, why did you ever want to that, you silly child?"
It occurs to me that I really haven't thought about my bucket list in a long while. Most of my 20s were spent surviving young parenthood. Accomplishing anything lofty was not on the list. Making it to tomorrow filled most of it. I'm not in young parenthood anymore. The stress of having three toddlers has been replaced by the stress of having 3 pre-teen girls... but it's a different stress. More mental, less physical. Maybe I'm just older because I feel far more equipped to deal with this than I did with young parenthood. Well, maybe that's not right. The beginning of puberty tells me that it's a long road ahead... but at the same time, I am doing more than just making it to tomorrow.
I'm embracing things that I haven't for a long time.... parenthood, marriage, friendship, reading, writing, music, history, beauty, growth, travel. Maybe it's time to think about what I want to do and be in this stage of my life... and go after it.
Besides, I'll have an excuse to make a list. :)
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Redwoods
We've visited the Redwood Forest in Northern California twice. Once, on our honeymoon. Twice, on our 10th anniversary. This picture here is of Joel trying to climb a tree there. Pretty sure he didn't get any further than this shot indicates. The forest is amazing... Most of us have seen pictures, but nothing quite prepares you for just how huge and majestic this forest really is. The trees are so huge and tall... absolutely beautiful to see them reaching so high up into the sky. Humbling to walk among them and realize how old they are and how old you are not.I heard something this weekend that I thought was so cool, and was delighted to discover, when I looked it up later, that it's absolutely true. Redwoods do not have deep root systems. Their roots are neither thick nor deep, yet the trees reach to dizzying heights. They last through the weather patterns for hundreds of years... the rain, the snow, the wind. How?
They grow close together... and their roots intertwine with the roots of other trees. By standing in community, and wrapping their arms (so to speak) through the arms of those around them, they are able to stand strong against the elements that beat against them. They stay rooted by supporting each other. How cool is that?
Won't you be a redwood?
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Check the Attitude
"Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference." --Winston Churchill
Attitude has been something I've been mulling over for the last few days. It's funny, just like Churchill said, how big of a difference attitude can make in your day, in how you approach things.
As a for instance, there is an event that occurs in my life almost every day. It isn't an event that I enjoy. However, I find it interesting that the differences in my attitude totally color how I view that event. Some days, I view it with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. But, on others, it's something that just bugs the heck out of me and weighs on my mind all day. The choice all comes down to attitude.
Sometimes, attitude is colored by things that feel outside of my control. Hormones, emotions. I'm not sure they really ARE outside my control, but they feel like it. On these days, I feel more susceptible to those negative attitudes. Pessimism, hopelessness, frustration. It is on these days that I have to take the bull by the horns and tell myself, "No! You are not going to go down this road today!" Enough whipping myself into an optimistic frenzy and I CAN find my way to that more positive attitude.
And when I do, my day goes so much better. I'm less bogged down by the little things. Good attitudes don't eliminate the big things. It's not a magic potion to make a life perfect. But, it sure makes it easier to live.
Attitude has been something I've been mulling over for the last few days. It's funny, just like Churchill said, how big of a difference attitude can make in your day, in how you approach things.
As a for instance, there is an event that occurs in my life almost every day. It isn't an event that I enjoy. However, I find it interesting that the differences in my attitude totally color how I view that event. Some days, I view it with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. But, on others, it's something that just bugs the heck out of me and weighs on my mind all day. The choice all comes down to attitude.
Sometimes, attitude is colored by things that feel outside of my control. Hormones, emotions. I'm not sure they really ARE outside my control, but they feel like it. On these days, I feel more susceptible to those negative attitudes. Pessimism, hopelessness, frustration. It is on these days that I have to take the bull by the horns and tell myself, "No! You are not going to go down this road today!" Enough whipping myself into an optimistic frenzy and I CAN find my way to that more positive attitude.
And when I do, my day goes so much better. I'm less bogged down by the little things. Good attitudes don't eliminate the big things. It's not a magic potion to make a life perfect. But, it sure makes it easier to live.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Scars Left Behind
Do you remember that book I bought last week because of the book jacket that gave me no information but a burning need to buy it? Well, I spent Friday curled up with it. I suppose I ought to follow the directions and not really tell you anything about it... I liked it... well, enough to spend the whole day with it, anyway!
There was one quote in the first few chapters, though, that's stuck with me throughout the weekend and into this week.
It's sort of found a little crevice in my mind and made itself at home.
My personal world doesn't come with a lot of physical scars. I am possibly overly careful with my body, not much of a daredevil. I prefer my feet on solid ground where I can control my relationship with gravity. I don't go in geographical areas by myself where I might be more likely to be mugged or eaten by bears. (Don't even bother trying to tell me that bears don't eat people. Joel's been trying for 15 years with little success.) I'm fairly certain my scars are limited to surgeries and that one time in the 2nd grade when I was pretending to fight with my best friend over who got to be Michael Jackson's girlfriend and was hit by a flying toy near my eye.
Emotional scars, though... these I have by the truckful. And at almost 35, I figure I wouldn't be much alone in that. 35 years of being in relationships with people gives you a lot of time to wield and harbor hurts, doesn't it? It is here that this quote from Little Bee filters slowly through my mind. It is an easy thing to paint yourself the victim and think "Woe is me." To allow yourself to feel so put upon because the hurts that people have inflicted on you have wounded so deeply.
But, understand what it is to see those scars they have left as survival. As beauty. It means that they didn't win. It means that the hurt they meant... the crippling they intended. It didn't work. You are still ticking. You are still growing. You are still living. You are still loving. And they are left small, ineffective, and bitter.
You, then, emerge... not as the victim, but as the survivor. The victor.
The strong.
There was one quote in the first few chapters, though, that's stuck with me throughout the weekend and into this week.
"...a scar is never ugly. That is what the scarmakers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty... Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, 'I survived.'"
It's sort of found a little crevice in my mind and made itself at home.
My personal world doesn't come with a lot of physical scars. I am possibly overly careful with my body, not much of a daredevil. I prefer my feet on solid ground where I can control my relationship with gravity. I don't go in geographical areas by myself where I might be more likely to be mugged or eaten by bears. (Don't even bother trying to tell me that bears don't eat people. Joel's been trying for 15 years with little success.) I'm fairly certain my scars are limited to surgeries and that one time in the 2nd grade when I was pretending to fight with my best friend over who got to be Michael Jackson's girlfriend and was hit by a flying toy near my eye.
Emotional scars, though... these I have by the truckful. And at almost 35, I figure I wouldn't be much alone in that. 35 years of being in relationships with people gives you a lot of time to wield and harbor hurts, doesn't it? It is here that this quote from Little Bee filters slowly through my mind. It is an easy thing to paint yourself the victim and think "Woe is me." To allow yourself to feel so put upon because the hurts that people have inflicted on you have wounded so deeply.
But, understand what it is to see those scars they have left as survival. As beauty. It means that they didn't win. It means that the hurt they meant... the crippling they intended. It didn't work. You are still ticking. You are still growing. You are still living. You are still loving. And they are left small, ineffective, and bitter.
You, then, emerge... not as the victim, but as the survivor. The victor.
The strong.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
When What We Want Becomes More...
It's a story we tell often in our family.
Every pregnant woman has a "What I Craved" story, I think. You hear about the ice cream and pickles. The bizarre combinations that no one in their right mind would put in their mouth, much less WANT to. The laundry soap? Yeah, don't even come whining to me when your 2 year old starts eating snails. That's womb-based conditioning right there.
For me, it was granny smith apples. Oh, I loved granny smith apples so much. I bought them by the bagful. Not those weeny plastic bags in the produce section, either. I'm talking garbage sized bags here! One night midway through the pregnancy, I woke up around 2am. In my groggy state, I remembered that I had ONE granny smith apple left in the refrigerator. But it was 2am, and I didn't REALLY want to get out of bed so I laid there, thinking about that apple.
The more I thought about it, the bigger it got in my mind. I could smell it. I could taste it. I could feel the smooth peel against my lips. The more it occupied my thoughts, the more I wanted it. I was practically drooling for that apple. That was it. I had to have the apple. I HAD TO HAVE IT. Finally, after many minutes of deliberating and dreaming, I got up and waddled myself out to the kitchen.
I opened the refrigerator door, the light spilling out onto the dark floor. I reached for the apple and--
There was no apple. THERE WAS NO APPLE. My husband had EATEN the apple. MY APPLE. OH MY STARS, how could he have eaten my apple? Didn't he know those were MY apples?? (Ok, admittedly, it was possibly not the SMARTEST thing in the world to eat the last remaining food of a type that your manic pregnant wife craves more than chocolate. He learned for the 2nd pregnancy.) Oh, I was so mad. That dream of Apple Bliss that I had built up in my mind was DASHED. Dashed, I tell you!! I stomped around the living room in a fit of apple-crazed pique! I almost woke him up and made him go get me some more. At 3am. But, I managed to calm myself and just go back to bed... averting disaster and coming away with a silly story to tell of my first pregnancy.
Sometimes, I think about what would have happened if the apple had been there. After building it up for so long, could it have ever approached the euphoria that my mind was expecting it to be? Can anything? Apples aside, it is perhaps a dangerous thing to think about something you want too much... thinking about it, dreaming about what it will be like, envisioning it in your mind, playacting all those scenarios that get you to finally attaining it... And then you get it... and it doesn't quite live up to what you thought it would be.
Sometimes, maybe it's just better to avert disaster and go back to bed.
Every pregnant woman has a "What I Craved" story, I think. You hear about the ice cream and pickles. The bizarre combinations that no one in their right mind would put in their mouth, much less WANT to. The laundry soap? Yeah, don't even come whining to me when your 2 year old starts eating snails. That's womb-based conditioning right there.
For me, it was granny smith apples. Oh, I loved granny smith apples so much. I bought them by the bagful. Not those weeny plastic bags in the produce section, either. I'm talking garbage sized bags here! One night midway through the pregnancy, I woke up around 2am. In my groggy state, I remembered that I had ONE granny smith apple left in the refrigerator. But it was 2am, and I didn't REALLY want to get out of bed so I laid there, thinking about that apple.
The more I thought about it, the bigger it got in my mind. I could smell it. I could taste it. I could feel the smooth peel against my lips. The more it occupied my thoughts, the more I wanted it. I was practically drooling for that apple. That was it. I had to have the apple. I HAD TO HAVE IT. Finally, after many minutes of deliberating and dreaming, I got up and waddled myself out to the kitchen.
I opened the refrigerator door, the light spilling out onto the dark floor. I reached for the apple and--
There was no apple. THERE WAS NO APPLE. My husband had EATEN the apple. MY APPLE. OH MY STARS, how could he have eaten my apple? Didn't he know those were MY apples?? (Ok, admittedly, it was possibly not the SMARTEST thing in the world to eat the last remaining food of a type that your manic pregnant wife craves more than chocolate. He learned for the 2nd pregnancy.) Oh, I was so mad. That dream of Apple Bliss that I had built up in my mind was DASHED. Dashed, I tell you!! I stomped around the living room in a fit of apple-crazed pique! I almost woke him up and made him go get me some more. At 3am. But, I managed to calm myself and just go back to bed... averting disaster and coming away with a silly story to tell of my first pregnancy.
Sometimes, I think about what would have happened if the apple had been there. After building it up for so long, could it have ever approached the euphoria that my mind was expecting it to be? Can anything? Apples aside, it is perhaps a dangerous thing to think about something you want too much... thinking about it, dreaming about what it will be like, envisioning it in your mind, playacting all those scenarios that get you to finally attaining it... And then you get it... and it doesn't quite live up to what you thought it would be.
Sometimes, maybe it's just better to avert disaster and go back to bed.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Ever wonder what happened?
Well, first, Saturday accountability.
Weight Watchers weigh-in this morning, and I lost 2 1/2 lbs. Mmm yes, that DOES feel good, thank you. I've been making some really good progress the last few weeks, and that always makes it so much easier to stay motivated. Sometimes, that's a catch-22. Sometimes having a few good weeks makes me want to have MORE good weeks, and keeps me motivated to eat right and exercise often. But sometimes a few good weeks fools me. It makes me go "I can totally do this with my eyes shut... in fact, I'm doing so awesome that I don't really need to track. And I can probably get by without that 4th cardio workout... and maybe the 3rd too. And oh look, cheesecake!" You can see how this can quickly go from "I AM DOING AWESOME" to "oh crap." I'm banking on the former for this week.
On to what's been on my mind the last couple days...
You ever have changes in relationships with people and you wonder "Huh... I wonder what happened there?!" And I mean that in both the positive and the negative. Sometimes you have relationships that sour and you think "Where did that go, anyway?" And then, sometimes you have previously-sour relationships that are suddenly... not-sour. I think it's these ones that make me go "Huh!" the most.
Truthfully, I'm pretty conscious of the causes of the relationships that go south. Sometimes that's my fault, sometimes that's theirs. Well, that's not exactly right. It's always a combination, isn't it? I think that my parents' divorce taught me that. When I was young, I blamed my dad completely for their divorce. He was the one that left, and thus it was all his fault. I kept that belief for many years... on into my teenage years, anyway. My understanding of the reasons matured, but I was still only able to see it one way. It wasn't until I was married myself and understood the intricacies of marriage better that I was able to understand that relationship strife, whether that be marital or otherwise, comes with multiple reasons and multiple places of responsibility and blame. I find it very rare that the blame is ever one-way.
In any case, it's not these that I find confusing. It's the positive changes that sometimes have me laughing and wondering what happened... I mean, I can see the probable reasons, but I think "Can it really have been that easy??" Maybe it is, maybe it's not... maybe the reasons for the positive changes are also two-way. It takes two to destroy, but it takes two to build, as well? Perhaps that's right. And maybe there'd be a lot less sour if we'd all be willing to be the first one to give? Not the only one... We live in a world of two-way relationships and one-way relationships can't work. Being the first one is tough work. It leaves us just a bit vulnerable in the middle of the intersection. But you can't meet halfway if you don't get your butt off the line.
Weight Watchers weigh-in this morning, and I lost 2 1/2 lbs. Mmm yes, that DOES feel good, thank you. I've been making some really good progress the last few weeks, and that always makes it so much easier to stay motivated. Sometimes, that's a catch-22. Sometimes having a few good weeks makes me want to have MORE good weeks, and keeps me motivated to eat right and exercise often. But sometimes a few good weeks fools me. It makes me go "I can totally do this with my eyes shut... in fact, I'm doing so awesome that I don't really need to track. And I can probably get by without that 4th cardio workout... and maybe the 3rd too. And oh look, cheesecake!" You can see how this can quickly go from "I AM DOING AWESOME" to "oh crap." I'm banking on the former for this week.
On to what's been on my mind the last couple days...
You ever have changes in relationships with people and you wonder "Huh... I wonder what happened there?!" And I mean that in both the positive and the negative. Sometimes you have relationships that sour and you think "Where did that go, anyway?" And then, sometimes you have previously-sour relationships that are suddenly... not-sour. I think it's these ones that make me go "Huh!" the most.
Truthfully, I'm pretty conscious of the causes of the relationships that go south. Sometimes that's my fault, sometimes that's theirs. Well, that's not exactly right. It's always a combination, isn't it? I think that my parents' divorce taught me that. When I was young, I blamed my dad completely for their divorce. He was the one that left, and thus it was all his fault. I kept that belief for many years... on into my teenage years, anyway. My understanding of the reasons matured, but I was still only able to see it one way. It wasn't until I was married myself and understood the intricacies of marriage better that I was able to understand that relationship strife, whether that be marital or otherwise, comes with multiple reasons and multiple places of responsibility and blame. I find it very rare that the blame is ever one-way.
In any case, it's not these that I find confusing. It's the positive changes that sometimes have me laughing and wondering what happened... I mean, I can see the probable reasons, but I think "Can it really have been that easy??" Maybe it is, maybe it's not... maybe the reasons for the positive changes are also two-way. It takes two to destroy, but it takes two to build, as well? Perhaps that's right. And maybe there'd be a lot less sour if we'd all be willing to be the first one to give? Not the only one... We live in a world of two-way relationships and one-way relationships can't work. Being the first one is tough work. It leaves us just a bit vulnerable in the middle of the intersection. But you can't meet halfway if you don't get your butt off the line.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
What I'm....
On Thursdays, I usually go out for the evening by myself. A few hours of alone time, with no responsibilities, is just what I need to refresh my energies for the week. After I went through the darkest time of my depression several years ago, I realized that I physically needed just a little bit of time to rejuvenate... And I take that time once a week. It's worth it. What I do sometimes varies... sometimes it's shopping, sometimes it's a movie, sometimes it's going to the bookstore and curling up with a book or my writing notebook.
Tonight, I sacrificed my bookstore time to.... go to another bookstore. Oh yes, I'm living dangerously, folks. I made my way over to Third Place Books for my friend's book reading/signing. I think I might have to make my way over there more often. I usually go to Barnes and Noble as it's closest to my house, but I really liked Third Place Books. BUT I still had two hours leftover, when it was finished, to go find a table (and maybe a 2nd latte and a cookie) and write for a couple hours. And then shop for books. (To my credit, I have not bought books for a long time, and I have two entire shelves empty on my bookshelf. TWO WHOLE SHELVES.)
Well, now I can't remember how I had planned to segue into this next part... I had a plan when I started writing! Really, I did!
*makes Wayne's World squoogly noises* What do you mean that's not a word?!!
What I'm Reading
I've got two books going at the moment... The Happiness Project, whose first chapter inspired me to start organizing my entire house... and as I'm still in the middle of it (the organizing), I've yet to get past the first chapter but it's there waiting for me. And Larry McMurtry's Dead Man's Walk or something like that. Prequel to Lonesome Dove, anyway. I sure loved that book.
And then those books I bought today at the bookstore...
Tonight, I sacrificed my bookstore time to.... go to another bookstore. Oh yes, I'm living dangerously, folks. I made my way over to Third Place Books for my friend's book reading/signing. I think I might have to make my way over there more often. I usually go to Barnes and Noble as it's closest to my house, but I really liked Third Place Books. BUT I still had two hours leftover, when it was finished, to go find a table (and maybe a 2nd latte and a cookie) and write for a couple hours. And then shop for books. (To my credit, I have not bought books for a long time, and I have two entire shelves empty on my bookshelf. TWO WHOLE SHELVES.)
Well, now I can't remember how I had planned to segue into this next part... I had a plan when I started writing! Really, I did!
*makes Wayne's World squoogly noises* What do you mean that's not a word?!!
What I'm Reading
I've got two books going at the moment... The Happiness Project, whose first chapter inspired me to start organizing my entire house... and as I'm still in the middle of it (the organizing), I've yet to get past the first chapter but it's there waiting for me. And Larry McMurtry's Dead Man's Walk or something like that. Prequel to Lonesome Dove, anyway. I sure loved that book.
And then those books I bought today at the bookstore...
- Snark, which I bought as a means of personal conviction
- The Man Who Made Lists: Love, Death, and the Creation of Roget's Thesaurus... perhaps not everyone's idea of intriguing reading, but the man who made the thesaurus!! OK, maybe that only makes ME happy, but I'm interested!
- The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo because everyone said it's good and my sister said I should read it
- The Time Traveler's Wife because I used to have it, always meant to read it, never did, somehow no longer have the book (where do these things GO??), and there's a movie out which I can't see until the book has been read!
- Little Bee. I bought this purely for the bookjacket description. "We don't want to tell you WHAT HAPPENS in this book. It is a truly SPECIAL STORY and we don't want to spoil it. NEVERTHELESS, you need to know enough to buy it, so we will just say this: This is the story of two women. Their lives collide one fateful day, and one of them has to make a terrible choice, the kind of choice we hope you never have to face. Two years later, they meet again-- the story starts there... Once you have read it, you'll want to tell your friend about it. When you do, please don't tell them what happens. The magic is in how the story unfolds." OH MY GOSH, why won't they tell me what it's about? (So you'll buy the book, idiot.) Yes, I buy products at the grocery store purely because they put "NEW" on the box, too.
What I'm Wearing
Well, right now, I'm wearing pajamas. But, for this whole booksigning event, I got a little dressed up. Not hugely... nice jeans, a top not made out of 100% cotton, heeled boots, and a leatherish jacket. Lately, I've been wearing a lot of sneakers and T-shirts. That's had practical purpose.. I've been doing more exercising during the middle of my day, and I want to be comfortable. But I forgot how much I do kinda like feeling more put together. I shall discover a way to better balance the two!!
What I'm Listening To
My "Into This Now" playlist has been growing and growing lately... I suppose 14 hours of songs is more than enough. But these are the songs and/or artists I'm listening to right now and definitely don't skip over when they come on:
- Alan Jackson
- Catch Me If You Can (especially Fly Fly Away and Someone Else's Skin)
- The Band Perry (You Lie)
- Billy Currington (wee crush!)
- Something in the Water (Brooke Fraser)
- Little bits of Celtic Thunder (mostly Paul and Keith songs at the moment)
- Dala (Horses and Levi Blues)
- Dr Horrible (Brand New Day, My Eyes, Everything You Ever)
- George Strait
- Josh Turner (forgot how much I love his deep voice!)
- Lenka
- Mickey Coleman
- Mike and Carleen McCornack
- Miranda Lambert (in love with her "House That Built Me" song)
- Randy Travis
- Tin Cup Gypsy (especially like "To the Sea" and "Jack and Jill")
- Zac Brown Band (As She's Walkin' Away!)
What's left... What I'm Watching?
Honestly, not much... I've not been watching a lot of TV for a good while... but when I do, I sure like The Middle. It makes me laugh... I'm so married to the dad of that family.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
To 18yo Me
While at the grocery store today, I passed a newspaper displayed with an article in which graduating high school seniors were asked about where they thought they'd be at age 30. At first, that made me laugh... When I was 18, 30 DID seem like an awfully long ways away. Practically dead, you know. But now that I'm on the other side of it, well I'm not dead yet, anyway.
But it got me thinking of the things I'd want to say to my younger self, if I could.
1. Your bucket list will change. What you want today may seem silly 10 years down the road. Change with it.
2. Kindness matters. Don't miss an opportunity to exhibit it, even if it's inconvenient. Even if you think you'll look like an idiot. Kindness matters.
3. Humor at someone else's expense provides a satisfaction that lasts about 10 seconds. It is never worth the months of guilt that follow.
4. Who you spend your time with influences the person you are, so choose your friends wisely. If there is a quality you'd like to develop in yourself, find someone who exhibits it well, befriend them, and hope to God they haven't already learned this lesson.
5. Missteps are just that. One does not equal your failure.
6. What you think matters today will probably not matter so much tomorrow, so relax just a little. Tomorrow will take care of itself.
7. Apologize. Yes, I know it sucks. Yes, I know it's embarrassing. Yes, I know it involves admitting that you were wrong. Do it anyway.
8. Ask for help. Accept help. At the end of your life, you do not get a bigger trophy if you've done it all by yourself.
9. Think first. Act second. Oh, darling, if you could learn this one, how many less scrapes would you find yourself in?
10. You should have three types of friends. A. Someone who mentors you. B. Peers. C. Someone you're mentoring. All three are crucially important. If you're missing one, you're doing it wrong.
11. You cannot change anyone. That is their call and their call alone. If you cannot accept them for who they are right now, accept that and let them go.
12. You also can't please everyone. It can't be done with honesty. Look around... worry about your relationship with those you are in close relationship with. The rest... let it go.
13. Change. Grow. Create character. But do it for the right reasons. Don't let bitter unhappy people change who you are.
14. Enjoy it. Stop and take in your surroundings once in a while. This isn't a race.
I don't have this all figured out... somehow I thought that, at 30, I would. That when I was really an adult, everything would fall into place, make sense, and life would be somehow easier. It's not. But maybe that's just life... What would we do if we had it all figured out? and maybe sometime soon, my 55 year old self will call up with a little advice to get me through the next 20 years...
But it got me thinking of the things I'd want to say to my younger self, if I could.
1. Your bucket list will change. What you want today may seem silly 10 years down the road. Change with it.
2. Kindness matters. Don't miss an opportunity to exhibit it, even if it's inconvenient. Even if you think you'll look like an idiot. Kindness matters.
3. Humor at someone else's expense provides a satisfaction that lasts about 10 seconds. It is never worth the months of guilt that follow.
4. Who you spend your time with influences the person you are, so choose your friends wisely. If there is a quality you'd like to develop in yourself, find someone who exhibits it well, befriend them, and hope to God they haven't already learned this lesson.5. Missteps are just that. One does not equal your failure.
6. What you think matters today will probably not matter so much tomorrow, so relax just a little. Tomorrow will take care of itself.
7. Apologize. Yes, I know it sucks. Yes, I know it's embarrassing. Yes, I know it involves admitting that you were wrong. Do it anyway.
8. Ask for help. Accept help. At the end of your life, you do not get a bigger trophy if you've done it all by yourself.
9. Think first. Act second. Oh, darling, if you could learn this one, how many less scrapes would you find yourself in?
10. You should have three types of friends. A. Someone who mentors you. B. Peers. C. Someone you're mentoring. All three are crucially important. If you're missing one, you're doing it wrong.
11. You cannot change anyone. That is their call and their call alone. If you cannot accept them for who they are right now, accept that and let them go.
12. You also can't please everyone. It can't be done with honesty. Look around... worry about your relationship with those you are in close relationship with. The rest... let it go.
13. Change. Grow. Create character. But do it for the right reasons. Don't let bitter unhappy people change who you are.
14. Enjoy it. Stop and take in your surroundings once in a while. This isn't a race.
I don't have this all figured out... somehow I thought that, at 30, I would. That when I was really an adult, everything would fall into place, make sense, and life would be somehow easier. It's not. But maybe that's just life... What would we do if we had it all figured out? and maybe sometime soon, my 55 year old self will call up with a little advice to get me through the next 20 years...
Content
Why do you think we tend to dwell on the things that aren't so good? If I wanted to, I could easily sit here and make you a list of all the bad things. The things I'm working on in myself, the things I know I need to change. The things that make the living difficult, the things that make me want to scream and punch things. The things that are unfair, the things that are wrong, the things that are hard.
But, there's another list too. The things that ARE so good. Good things in my marriage. Good growth in my kids. Family bonding. Wonderful supportive loving friends. A sort-of-trained, but lovable, dog. Progress in the organization of my house. A return to things I've always enjoyed. Financial blessings. Learning to be the duck. Excitement for my friends. Excitement for things that could be. Plans for the future, plans for the now.
But, it's often that the first list is the one that occupies my mind. Turning over the things that aren't good, thinking about them, dwelling on them, perhaps obsessing on them.
I'm going to change that, I think. There's no reason for the good stuff to take a backseat to the bad stuff. It robs from the contentment, with no purpose. And right now, I AM content. Relaxed into where I am right now, and content. But under the control of that first list, the contentment flees and is replaced by angst and stress and frustration, and for what? It's just silly, that's what.
So, no more. We're going to just enjoy the contentment for the season, and we'll deal with the hard stuff when the hard stuff actually needs to be dealt with.
But, there's another list too. The things that ARE so good. Good things in my marriage. Good growth in my kids. Family bonding. Wonderful supportive loving friends. A sort-of-trained, but lovable, dog. Progress in the organization of my house. A return to things I've always enjoyed. Financial blessings. Learning to be the duck. Excitement for my friends. Excitement for things that could be. Plans for the future, plans for the now.
But, it's often that the first list is the one that occupies my mind. Turning over the things that aren't good, thinking about them, dwelling on them, perhaps obsessing on them.
I'm going to change that, I think. There's no reason for the good stuff to take a backseat to the bad stuff. It robs from the contentment, with no purpose. And right now, I AM content. Relaxed into where I am right now, and content. But under the control of that first list, the contentment flees and is replaced by angst and stress and frustration, and for what? It's just silly, that's what.
So, no more. We're going to just enjoy the contentment for the season, and we'll deal with the hard stuff when the hard stuff actually needs to be dealt with.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Tuesday Tuesday
Today is a day of contrasts...
Today is the anniversary of the death of my dear friend, Nattie. As the years pass, the pain of her passing has changed, for me, from sharp to bittersweet. I miss her. I don't think I will ever not miss her, I suppose. I don't think I'd really WANT to ever not miss her. But I miss her. I thought of her when I went to see Pirates 4, and remembered that the last thing I ever received from her was an envelope of Orlando Bloom pictures that she'd ripped out of some gossip rag for me. There's a little hole in the wall bookstore a couple towns over that I always think of her when I enter it. It's small and there is not a single space that is not covered with books... It always makes me think of her little hobbit house. We'd heard about her hobbit house... but it was only when I flew out to Indiana for her funeral, and sat with her parents and a few close friends that I realized she wasn't kidding. Every available inch was lined with books.. just like her. I miss her. And sometimes I wish that she were still here. But always, I am glad for the time I had with her... she taught me so much, and I always hold her in my heart.
On the other hand, today is also the birthday of my friend, Cheri. I come by my love of my birthday honestly, my friends. But no one is as in love with their birthday as Cheri is! :) And I love that about her. No shame involved. No apologies for the birthday adoration. It's just Cheri's birthday and everyone should know it! And so today, while I also think ponderingly about my friend Nattie, I also celebrate happily with my friend, Cheri. This feels fitting, too. A death, however felt, does not stop the lives of those left behind... and it shouldn't. We are not meant to stop living because we've lost something or someone we love. You pause. You mourn. You grieve. You change, yes. But you keep going. And you keep loving life. And you keep celebrating the gift of life and love that God gives us. And we're meant to do that without shame or apology, but with an exuberant embrace.
If I have time today, I have a date with an old friend. I don't particularly want to go on this date... not sure I'm ready to hang out. But I have to. (LOL Not an actual person, but a thing... or maybe a thing that sort of represents a person... Good grief, this doesn't make sense to anyone, does it?)
Today is the anniversary of the death of my dear friend, Nattie. As the years pass, the pain of her passing has changed, for me, from sharp to bittersweet. I miss her. I don't think I will ever not miss her, I suppose. I don't think I'd really WANT to ever not miss her. But I miss her. I thought of her when I went to see Pirates 4, and remembered that the last thing I ever received from her was an envelope of Orlando Bloom pictures that she'd ripped out of some gossip rag for me. There's a little hole in the wall bookstore a couple towns over that I always think of her when I enter it. It's small and there is not a single space that is not covered with books... It always makes me think of her little hobbit house. We'd heard about her hobbit house... but it was only when I flew out to Indiana for her funeral, and sat with her parents and a few close friends that I realized she wasn't kidding. Every available inch was lined with books.. just like her. I miss her. And sometimes I wish that she were still here. But always, I am glad for the time I had with her... she taught me so much, and I always hold her in my heart.
On the other hand, today is also the birthday of my friend, Cheri. I come by my love of my birthday honestly, my friends. But no one is as in love with their birthday as Cheri is! :) And I love that about her. No shame involved. No apologies for the birthday adoration. It's just Cheri's birthday and everyone should know it! And so today, while I also think ponderingly about my friend Nattie, I also celebrate happily with my friend, Cheri. This feels fitting, too. A death, however felt, does not stop the lives of those left behind... and it shouldn't. We are not meant to stop living because we've lost something or someone we love. You pause. You mourn. You grieve. You change, yes. But you keep going. And you keep loving life. And you keep celebrating the gift of life and love that God gives us. And we're meant to do that without shame or apology, but with an exuberant embrace.
If I have time today, I have a date with an old friend. I don't particularly want to go on this date... not sure I'm ready to hang out. But I have to. (LOL Not an actual person, but a thing... or maybe a thing that sort of represents a person... Good grief, this doesn't make sense to anyone, does it?)
Monday, June 6, 2011
Squire Ryan and the Wasp
"What was that?!" I suddenly pulled myself to attention, straining to hear what had interrupted my drowsy reverie.
I'd not had much sleep the night before. The General had assigned me the night watch, assumedly as discipline for the prank I'd pulled on our rookie knight. It had been worth it though... the look on young Peter's face. Priceless! But, the long night had left me sleepy, and I'd taken advantage of the quiet clearing to catch a little nap. Even the long night, though, had done nothing to dull my keen senses.
Supersonic, they'd called me back at the Academy. All I needed was a cape and a secret identity to become my own comic book hero. I didn't know about that, but I did have excellent hearing. Certainly, what I'd just heard was not normal for the meadow.
I cautiously opened one eye, not wanting to draw any attention to myself, lest the sound in question be from something poised to pounce. I looked around the clearing with piercing eyes, taking in the swaying trees, the buttercups among the grasses, the...
Suddenly, I saw it and couldn't believe my eyes. We'd been hunting these creatures for days in what seemed to be a futile search, sent on a mad crusade through the wild uninhabited lands by the King. After weeks of hardship, I'd finally found one... the scourge on our very villages!
I began to creep my way to the edge of the clearing, intending to return to the camp for backup. But something stopped my retreat-- my own thoughts. Memories of long golden hair, soft skin, slender figure... and eyes of contempt. My own narrowed and I felt a steely resolve slide over my heart. I'd show her.
I slowly rose to my feet. Keeping my eyes on the creature, I drew my sword from its hilt and crouched. "Come to Daddy," I murmured. With a barbaric yell, I threw myself at him, sword at the ready. I probably should have shut my mouth. Alerted to my presence, he dived out of my path, narrowly missing the sting of my blade. Now it was his turn to eye me warily, as he hovered just out of my reach, searching for possible escape. He lunged for an exit, but was blocked by my killer reflexes. "Oh no you don't," I growled. "Your ass is mine."
I drew my arm back to strike what was sure to be the deathblow when a memory flashed through my head. "Sure, anyone can kill by the sword," she had taunted before turning to gaze adoringly at Sir Paul strutting through the Town Square. She had sighed, "I bet HE could do it with his bare hands." Not about to be bested by another, I glared at my sword and tossed it into the shrubbery. If Sir Paul could do it, so could I.
I circled the creature and dived for cover as it suddenly went on the offensive, aiming for my head. This thing was fast! I jumped back to my feet and advanced on the monster with determination. Its majestic wings beating at maximum speed as it hovered in the air just out reach, it took a nosedive toward my heart, its claws at the ready. I think I may have heard it grunt in surprise as it bounced off my awesomely chiseled chest.
"Oh that's right, sucker. I don't do 200 pushups a day for nothing!" Taking advantage of its momentary confusion, I leapt forward and grabbed him with my bare hands. Filled with a sense of victory and purpose and revenge, I began to squeeze when suddenly an intense pain seemed to fill my entire arm. "Shit! What the hell??" I yelled. I jumped back in surprise, accidentally letting the evil fiend go. I glanced at my throbbing hand and glared at the venomous spike sticking out of my palm.
I was so close, I thought, as I watched the creature fly out of sight. I could swear I heard it laughing at me as it went.
I'd not had much sleep the night before. The General had assigned me the night watch, assumedly as discipline for the prank I'd pulled on our rookie knight. It had been worth it though... the look on young Peter's face. Priceless! But, the long night had left me sleepy, and I'd taken advantage of the quiet clearing to catch a little nap. Even the long night, though, had done nothing to dull my keen senses.
Supersonic, they'd called me back at the Academy. All I needed was a cape and a secret identity to become my own comic book hero. I didn't know about that, but I did have excellent hearing. Certainly, what I'd just heard was not normal for the meadow.
I cautiously opened one eye, not wanting to draw any attention to myself, lest the sound in question be from something poised to pounce. I looked around the clearing with piercing eyes, taking in the swaying trees, the buttercups among the grasses, the...
Suddenly, I saw it and couldn't believe my eyes. We'd been hunting these creatures for days in what seemed to be a futile search, sent on a mad crusade through the wild uninhabited lands by the King. After weeks of hardship, I'd finally found one... the scourge on our very villages!
I began to creep my way to the edge of the clearing, intending to return to the camp for backup. But something stopped my retreat-- my own thoughts. Memories of long golden hair, soft skin, slender figure... and eyes of contempt. My own narrowed and I felt a steely resolve slide over my heart. I'd show her.
I slowly rose to my feet. Keeping my eyes on the creature, I drew my sword from its hilt and crouched. "Come to Daddy," I murmured. With a barbaric yell, I threw myself at him, sword at the ready. I probably should have shut my mouth. Alerted to my presence, he dived out of my path, narrowly missing the sting of my blade. Now it was his turn to eye me warily, as he hovered just out of my reach, searching for possible escape. He lunged for an exit, but was blocked by my killer reflexes. "Oh no you don't," I growled. "Your ass is mine."
I drew my arm back to strike what was sure to be the deathblow when a memory flashed through my head. "Sure, anyone can kill by the sword," she had taunted before turning to gaze adoringly at Sir Paul strutting through the Town Square. She had sighed, "I bet HE could do it with his bare hands." Not about to be bested by another, I glared at my sword and tossed it into the shrubbery. If Sir Paul could do it, so could I.
I circled the creature and dived for cover as it suddenly went on the offensive, aiming for my head. This thing was fast! I jumped back to my feet and advanced on the monster with determination. Its majestic wings beating at maximum speed as it hovered in the air just out reach, it took a nosedive toward my heart, its claws at the ready. I think I may have heard it grunt in surprise as it bounced off my awesomely chiseled chest.
"Oh that's right, sucker. I don't do 200 pushups a day for nothing!" Taking advantage of its momentary confusion, I leapt forward and grabbed him with my bare hands. Filled with a sense of victory and purpose and revenge, I began to squeeze when suddenly an intense pain seemed to fill my entire arm. "Shit! What the hell??" I yelled. I jumped back in surprise, accidentally letting the evil fiend go. I glanced at my throbbing hand and glared at the venomous spike sticking out of my palm.
I was so close, I thought, as I watched the creature fly out of sight. I could swear I heard it laughing at me as it went.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Lunchtime Lessons
Today's blog comes to you, courtesy of McKenzie...
"Yesterday, I was reading a story.. There was this girl, and her parents told her that she couldn't go to a party. But she really wanted to go, so she snuck out the window and went anyway. She did all these things she wasn't supposed to, and then she went on a Midnight Drive with a boy. But he'd been drinking too much beer and he wasn't a very good driver, and they got into a car crash. And then, on the way to the hospital, she found out that the people in the other car had died, and they were her parents. And then she died. So I guess the moral of the story is you should always do what your parents tell you to do. *pause* I better eat these grapes, after all."
My work is done for the day, I expect.
My work is done for the day, I expect.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Not what he had in mind.
Joel: Why don't you ever store anything on your D drive?Me: Well.... because on the last hard drive I had, it was so much smaller and I only had room for one backup... and I just got used to it being full. I just forget that I have so much space on the new one.
Joel: It's not like a "you use it and lose it" kind of thing. If it gets full and you need more space, you can take stuff off to make room for new stuff.
Me *smiling brightly*: FINALLY!!!! NOW you understand why I clean out my closet so I can buy more clothes!!!
Joel: Wait! That's not what I-- oh never mind.
Happily cleaning out my closet today! ha!
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