Be Yourself, Everyone Else is Taken -Oscar Wilde

Why is it that when you are expected to do something that is creative in nature the process naturally stalls (even if those expectations come from yourself)?  I was afraid of this. In fact, it was one of the excuses that always held me back from starting a blog. That I wouldn't be able to think of anything to say. Let me rephrase that: that I wouldn't give myself permission to say the things I'm thinking.

It kind of reminds me of design school.  Especially this certain class where the final project was to draw up rough blue prints and a furniture layout, complete with swatches of upholstery and samples of paint colors. Sounds fun right? I thought so at first. But then there were all the rules and the grading scale. Was this design well thought out? Was it cohesive enough? Original enough? Did it serve its function as a living space as well being aesthetically pleasing? Would the instructor agree with my selections? Because there were so many colors and patterns and textures to choose from. It was quite overwhelming. I remember not being totally satisfied with my end result. It was at this juncture that I begin to doubt I would really love this as a career as much as I thought I would. I’m sure I would have made a fine interior designer but I'd always know where I get to have the most fun is within the walls of my own home. No rules or anyone’s design sense matter but my own.

Okay, that was a long metaphor. All that just to say, freedom of expression is a beautiful thing.  I am re-learning how to exercise that creative freedom as I share what I write with others. There’s this little book I've been reading that has been helping me along tremendously. It came via recommendation by one my favorite authors so of course I am soaking in every word of it like it’s truth passed down from God. The name of it is “Writing to Find Yourself: Learning to be more authentic through the art of writing” by writing coach Allison Vesterfelt.  This is just a short 100 page ebook, but I am taking my time working through each of the challenges she gives at the end of the chapters.

The chapter I’m currently on is about learning to speak up. Allison talks about struggling to tell her husband that his dieting and daily weighing in are causing her to be self conscious about her own appearance even though she is at a healthy weight. She wasn't expecting her husband to quit dieting, she was actually quite proud of him, she just needed to be heard. She didn't want her honesty to take a toll on his progress. 

I can identify with her through this chapter a lot because I’m the type of person who tends to keep her opinion to herself or at least waits until I feel I have something of weight to offer to the conversation. Like most introverts, small talk is difficult for me and something that I have to practice just so I can be socially acceptable. I also really dislike confrontation or stepping on peoples toes. I always try hard to filter my words, and when I don’t, I obsess over how the receiving person perceived what I said. “Oh, I hope I didn’t offend so and so…” This can be a little annoying in my brain, I have to admit. Half the time I don’t know whether I’m sensitive or just egotistical! Usually I have to convince myself that I can’t take back what I said and chances are they didn’t give what I said a second thought. And more often than not, that is the case.  Other times, if I do say something  notable, I don’t even notice it unless they come back and say “hey, thanks for saying this or that, it really helped me/encouraged me/made me see things in a different light. (Okay, this doesn’t happen everyday but it has happened before!)  So really the obsession over when to say or when not to say something is usually in vain and is caused by over thinking about how people might react. 

Allison says it this way: "Something profound is happening to me as I’m learning to own my own story without asking others to own it for me.  I’m discovering I’m stronger and more unique than I ever imagined. I’m discovering there is room for me. I’m beginning to see how my thoughts and ideas and opinions aren’t nearly as important to the world as my voice is- the words and images and stories that make up who I am.”

I love that. Because it takes the pressure off to say just the right thing at the right moment. When I am focused on my voice, instead of the right thing to say, my most authentic self gets to come through. Being present is more important is more important than trying to maintain my like-ability. I keep picturing a necklace (my beautiful friend, who happens to have a very flowing creative spirit, made these). What is special about it is not just one bead in particular, but they way they compliment each other when they are strung together.

Think of your favorite author or storyteller or even your favorite character from TV or a book. Do you like that person for just one of their view points or one famous quote that they articulated? I would say, its a safe bet, that you like them because of their bottom line. Because of who they are as a whole being. Because of how their past and present, imperfections and triumphs, strengths and weaknesses all run together.  

 
So just to clarify, this is not about bashing everyone around you with your point of view on things. I still think wise people choose their words and don’t always have the loudest of voices. I value silence and listening immensely. It is more about just giving yourself permission to be just that: yourself. To be all of you, flawed and filled with beauty all at once. You are not the same as everyone else, regardless of whether you think you are or not, and it would be quite a boring world if you were or if you always had the perfect thing to say.

I think that perhaps this kind of openness can be a struggle for creative energy or even just expressing ourselves in general. Vulnerability is hard work. We have to own the fear.  It takes practice to take down the mask.  It also helps if we have a safe environment at first.

I have a complicated past that sounds a little like it could be story line for Parenthood or one of those shows we all love about dysfunctional families. Sometimes I’m ok with my story and other times I subconsciously tuck it away. I guess it just depends on who is around and how safe I feel. But I feel most at home and most like myself with the people who know my past baggage, or better yet lived through it with me. They knew me then, they know me now and they accept all of me. 

I am slowly discovering that the key to creating a safe environment for myself and others is to be brave and take off my mask first. Or at least simultaneously. And really both parties benefit from this. I mean think about it, who are the people you feel the safest around? The most like yourself around? It's most likely the people who don't hide their own junk, who let you in on their downs just as much as their ups. When you aren't afraid to own up to who you are, you invite others to do the same. They may or may not accept the invite, but at least you offered. And if they do accept, you have just taken the first steps toward building an authentic relationship with someone. 

I’m thinking of a particular relationship in my own life, where it just seemed like there was some sort of block or negative energy between us. I couldn’t pinpoint the reason and it really kind of bugged me. Then one day, she hinted at something flawed in her past, or maybe just something she was insecure about. She was getting tired of holding up the mask. I found myself validating her and relating to her by sharing a similar experience. All of the sudden, there was a slight shift between us. It's not always this easy and I'm sure there will be other obstacles to overcome.  We may not be “bff material,” but that invisible wall came down. And that made me happy.

Maybe you are reading this and feeling like you don't have any or enough of those safe relationships in your life. Friendships where you feel accepted and known. Accept this as an invitation to be yourself, share your flaws and take off your mask. It takes time and effort but is well worth the process. You may be surprised how people react when you stop asking permission to be yourself. And if you're lucky enough to have plenty of these friendships, be that safe place for someone else. Because we could all use that freedom.

Thanks for reading today, have a great weekend!

Because You're Worth It

So there were a couple of days at work last week where I had nothing to do.

I'm still kind of learning my job and naturally the first few weeks at a school will be a little hectic. This means there is no one to supervise me and sometimes I just make up my own routines as I go along. So as I'm walking around trying to look productive I start to become irritated because I cant find anything to do. Or anything I know how to do.

Well. I can take advantage of this moment to sit and clear my head at my desk, I think. Yes, that's what I'll do. No sooner than I sit down, the Iphone comes out and the blogs come up and next thing I know I am writing a schedule for what I should do when I get home from school to make my time at home as productive as it can possibly be. For some reason, reading about other people being organized motivates me to attempt the same.

In the middle of my self prescribed schedule writing, a co-worker, a teacher's aide, comes bounding up talking about how it is her break time but she can't actually sit down on her break time because then she will be worthless and not want to get up for the rest of the day. Come to think of it, I don't think I have seen this woman in a seated position, other than if shes helping a student, for the past month of working with her. She gets out her cell phone and starts making calls and arranging some side work to do later in the week.

It's not easy to see it in myself, but I feel a quiet question arise when I see it in someone else...

Why is it so hard to take a break to be still?

Later that day, I am walking alone. Down by the river bank there's a warm breeze and a solitude about this place that draws you in. I'm not the only one. There are people, alone, parked on the side watching the water and eating their lunches. People resting on benches gazing across at the percolating city. The gentle waves stretching sideways over the river and ending at the rocky shore separates us from the noise and the traffic.They invite me to come and sit, just for a minute. But "I'm exercising, I don't want my heart rate to go down, I have things I need to do," I argue with myself.

I give in to the pull of the waves and sit on a bench.

Why do people come to this river bank for peace? To find a respite in the busy-ness that is the city? What is it about this place that people find relaxing? Is it the water? The view of the city without actually having to experience it's jarring noise and movement?

Why not rest? Just for a minute. This is where your inspiration dwells. I hear wind chimes in the background. I can be unedited here yet I never give myself a chance. I never stop spinning long enough, never stop wasting my rest and trading it out for lesser things.

I sigh and rise from the bench, I can't sit still any longer.

Then there is this package under my stairs when I get home. I carry it in but I hesitate to tear off its beautiful wrapper. I want to savor it, but for some reason I find myself reluctant to relish in the fact that someone would send me this. She does this every year, my best friend, she pays absurd amounts for luxurious lotions and soaps from this shop in New York City.  It's no surprise that she has sent it, but now it hits my heart differently. And as I sit waiting to pull off the pretty bows and take in the aroma of each item, I have this seemingly unrelated thought whisper across my soul: "You don't rest because you don't think you deserve it. Just like you think you don't deserve this gift." And I just sit for a moment more, and maybe a cry a tear or two.

And maybe I don't deserve it, I mean what did I do? I just turned a year older, I didn't really accomplish anything. Yet, that's the very essence of a gift. Something that is unearned and free. But maybe, just maybe, I have bought into the lie of the world that nothing in life is free and you get what you deserve and that I have to do something in order to deserve a gift so lavish.

Most American's work all year with one week vacation and a few days if your lucky for Christmas. I think it's fascinating that the U.S. is the only country that doesn't legally require you to take a vacation. (Do a little research on American's being overworked, there are no shortage of articles and statistics to prove, we are!) The message is: Work hard. And IF there is time time play or relax, then maybe. Is that why it feels like it is such a sin to do nothing or to not be "productive." Personally, our family tries really hard to be aware of the effects of "too much work not enough play," but you can be affected by this mindset whether or not you have a traditional 9-5 job. Even when I stayed home all day, I always struggled not to work or be productive every single second. Mostly because I felt like I had to. I needed to make the most of my time so I might be able to sit down and fall asleep watching tv at the end of the day. Why is it so ingrained into my psyche that it that even when I am intentional about not being too busy that I still find ways to busy myself?

You see we go through these things in our lives and we think we are over them. Things that maybe we let falsely define us, events that are the origins of lies that we live out. Some lies that sound like this: You aren't good enough. You don't have what it takes. You have to earn your worth. Maybe it's been 10 or 20 years and our lives may have changed outwardly so much and we think: there is no way this still effects me. I have moved on, I've worked though it completely, I am a changed individual. But then it surfaces and you can't sit on a park bench or a open a gift from a dear friend. And what do you do when that lie manifests and you are acting it out and you didn't even realize you were until here you are weeping over a box of lotions?


I can't help but think of the woman pouring out her best perfume on the feet Jesus. Everyone around said, "Wait a minute, let's not get too extravagant here. That could be used in a more economical way." But the teacher wasn't concerned with profit or loss, he knew he was worth it and that the real value was in the gesture and in the pouring out of this woman's heart. His identity didn't come from his paycheck or his skill set or his productivity. It came from his Father, from within. He had this way of flipping everyone's view of worth on it's head.

Maybe if we believed we were worth it or that we needed it, the way we view rest would be that it is more of an essential and less of a luxury. And what if we redefined what rest looks like? What if it's not tuning out life by drowning ourselves in entertainment but it's something more. (Confession: I am just as guilty of binge watching Netflix as the next person). What if rest looks more like some thing that fills our soul to the brim and makes us feel whole again? And could time be viewed, not as a dwindling resource to pack in every little task that can fit, but as a gift? Something that is full of joy and is actually meant to be enjoyed. Would that motivate us to jump off the hamster wheel? What if we believed we were worth that.

Truth be told, I initially hated titling this post "Because You're Worth It." A little cliche, maybe, I thought. But have you ever heard the history behind the famous slogan? Lo'real Paris coined it in the 70's when women's rights and feminism was on the rise and it is actually not as shallow as it first appears. So this is about more than hair color and lipstick and even independent women. When I hear, "I'm worth it" I always wince a little because this is a truth that women everywhere struggle with, myself included. But I'm not satisfied excluding this struggle to women alone. I am almost positive this has little to do with gender and more to do with the searching heart of a human being. Most of the time, I think we keep ourselves too busy and distracted to pay attention to matters of the heart. I know I do.

But I'm ok. I really am.

Because at the end of the day, I know who I am.  I know I am not defined by anything in my past, or what I do for a living, or what I look like, or what I feel like, or even by the statistics about overworked Americans. And I feel like maybe that is true rest. To know all this and to be at peace with it.

Thanks for listening today,

Jenna

Life Lessons for the Big 3-0

I was going to wait until I actually turned 30 to write about turning 30 but I only have a week left of being in my twenties, so why not?

Thirty to me is like one those so-called milestones that really aren’t that big of a deal. Its like "welcome to the middle part of your life, don't complain about it." I feel that 30 is kind of like how I felt about writing all week. Kind of stuck. Like on the verge, but no, not quite there yet. Where ever "there" is.

Not to be negative or anything. Google tells me turning 30 is all about growing up, leveraging your experience and that kissing the carefree twenty somethings goodbye opens you up to worlds of opportunity. 30 is still young enough to make some things happen. I can see all you wise and up in the years readers roll your eyes. I suppose the year or my age really has nothing to do with it. There's something about my disposition that naturally shirks when I consider the future. Maybe its because I have had my fair share of experiences proving how unpredictable life can be. One day at a time is usually good for me.

Perhaps the big 3-0 isn't much of a fuss to me partly because I feel like I accepted the responsibility of adulthood prematurely in life. Having a child the same year you graduate high school will grow you up pretty fast. It kind of dumps a bucket of ice water on your twenty something reality, forcing you to think about big choices and values sooner rather than later. I always tell my now ten year old angel that really we grew up together and we still are. I love her dearly and she has been my best teacher.

So instead of fretting about it like so many tend to do, I think I'll just accept 30 in all its glory and capitalize on what I've learned thus far. Mind you, this isn't all I've learned but just the highlights and things I want to carry over into my next 30 years.

1. The Value of friendship and extended family

 In my early years of being married I didn't care much for sustaining my friendships or making new ones.  I didn't realize the texture and value they add to your life and how when the mundane-ness and sameness of your lovely little family becomes overwhelming you will need them. And that other people might need me to be the same variety and breath of fresh air in their life. I also wish that I would've realized how hard it is to make friends as a grown up, (like dating all over again!) and to hold on to some of those people that ‘get you’ because they don’t always come quickly or easily.

Then there's your extended family. These are the people who will stick with you no matter where you go in life. Distance is not a factor. These are the mom's who text and call us with frequency just to check in and say I miss you. The dad's who plan amazing vacations and just want to spend time with you. The sisters or brothers who have morphed from the mortal enemies of your teen years to your best friends in adulthood. These are the in laws who bend over backwards to help you. If you are lucky enough to have some of these people in your life like I am, invest in those relationships because the return is invaluable.

2. Realizing that life has no correct order

High school, college, marriage, career, family, mid life crisis, empty nest, retirement, old age, death. Or however it is rightly ordered in your mind. Firstly, we really have minimal to no control over most of these life stages. Some people make it look so easy but even then we don’t know the unvoiced struggles they face. These stages come and go as they please, like the wind or smoke, here for a second then gone the next. Trying to climb this ladder or make your life a calendar of events is asking to feel like a failure when you cannot hit one of these milestones or want to escape a certain stage at a desirable time, which is most usually now-ish. Not saying to just let life happen and never push back, but maybe (and this is to myself) to just let go of expectations of how things should be. To just practice acceptance with myself and others because we are all just learning and no one has it down regardless of what it looks like from the outside. Sometimes you start a path and somewhere along the way you get lost or decide you need to turn around or go another route. And thats ok. Really it is.

3. Life is too short for gender roles

I used to believe, that as a woman, I had a specific role in life and that my talents and gifts needed to be channeled into that role. I started my seminary degree in hopes of fulfilling the title of "pastor's wife" (would you believe that some schools actually have degrees and classes to educate a woman how to be a minister's wife?) I'll even admit that a small part of being a homemaker was driven by this belief, that this is what I should be doing as a good little wife of a seminary student aspiring to be in ministry someday (I also naturally yearned for balance and time with our children). This belief also made me hold back my opinions or gifts of leadership at times. (As a side note: this belief was not at all fostered by husband. Actually quite the opposite. He challenged me to step outside the box and to never hold back on my callings. Perhaps the way we fulfill our calling can and should change as we grow and learn more about ourselves. Our idea of what we wanted to do has radically changed since we started this journey but that story is too much to fit into this post.)

Now there's nothing wrong with pastor's wives, I happen to know several whom I admire. But there was something wrong with me aspiring to be that and nothing more. How stifling can roles be to our voices as women? We each have a unique story and gifting that needs to form our role in life, instead of trying to stuff those talents into the limitations of a title. If our identity is in God, not a role, then the possibilities of how we live out our passions and callings become endless.

4. See life through the eyes of a child

The kids love to frequent this little spray ground oasis downtown. We drive past it everyday and everyday they ask to go. We're lucky enough to be within walking distance of a few splash grounds like this one. I always look at as a good opportunity to sit and do nothing while the kids sit on the jets of water or run in circles like soaking wet maniacs. It's a good time for them and its free and easy for us parents. Cant get any better.

But the other day it did. As we were sitting there watching, a group of runners frolic by. One of them veers out of the group and runs right through the fountains. She’s screaming and giggling in stride with all the kids. She calls her other running buddies over and they all partake in the refresher, only a little more cautiously. My four year old comes over and points out, "Mom, there's grown ups playing in the water! ha!" he laughed and went right back to racing through the jets of water himself.

I smiled to myself as I continued to watch. I remembered for a split second how much fun water can be on a hot day. I let myself think back to being a kid, dancing through sprinklers or playing in the rain. "How do we grow up and just forget how to be like this?" I wondered. Kids just intuitively know how to appreciate the simpler things of life. They aren’t afraid to jump in and take full of advantage of life. So I tap John on the shoulder and grin, "Let's get in." I'm glad we didn't miss this opportunity to be a kid with our kids. These moments help alleviate the pressures of being a responsible adult all the stinking time.

So this is getting a bit windy, no? I thought "you weren't feeling inspired" you say? This brings to me to my final and probably hardest to live out lesson I want to practice in my encroaching years of adulthood:

5. Say "yes" more and don't worry about what people think

As a self proclaimed wall flower, I am usually more than happy to politely say "no, thank you" and to occupy the sidelines. But the other day it just hit me that I should say "yes" more. And not to things that weigh me down or distract me, but to things that can actually add variety and texture to life like new experiences or people or places. Not only do I want to say yes to these things, but I want to do more than just to merely brush the surface. I want to dive in when the opportunity presents itself, better yet I would like create opportunities to do just that.

Writing this blog was a big "yes" for me. It's something I've always wanted to do but just couldn't push past the excuses. It was a good exercise in letting go of fear or awkwardness and just giving it a shot. I practice this rhythm of letting go every time I sit down to write. The hardest part is just showing up.  After that, the words just start flowing and I'm left wondering why I didn't start sooner. It seems like a lot of things in life are like that. We build them up in our head to be something scary or too difficult but when we actually follow through, its not as bad as we thought. At least that's what I tell my four year old about going to the dentist.

Thanks for showing up today :)

At Home with Imperfection

Whew. Last week's vacay left me slightly winded. Disney, Universal, and lots of being cooped up in the car with a couple of kids who are bored and hyper and tired and on a fun over load all at once.

This week a new school and work routine are underway. Lunches, backpacks, alarm clocks, along with the constant "you go here" and "don't forget to...." Plus all the ins and outs of learning a new job.

That's why I'm so thankful I have this place. 

We moved here over the summer so it is still slightly fresh to us. Even tho it is more than a 100 years old. All of my thrift store treasures and well loved furniture fit right into this row house built in the 1800's. This is the first place I have lived that I feel like I picked out, instead of the other way around. I love it's uniqueness and charm. The skylight and fireplaces. It's old woodwork and even the vintage wallpaper is growing on me. There were some things I didn't love about it, but I was willing to compromise because of what stood out about the place. Of course, it still took some getting used to though.

For instance, it's right in the middle of a pretty busy urban area. At any given hour you can hear cars whizzing by, sirens, traffic signals, people interacting on the street, construction noise, loud music... Hustle and bustle. I remember the first night here staring wide eyed at the ceiling and fretting "what have we done? Ill never sleep again!"

You see, I love quiet.

But after a couple months of living here all of that has just become background noise now. I have found a new quiet.  And after going away for a week and starting a job, I have a newfound appreciation for being home. I suppose absence does make the heart grow fonder. Let me explain.

As a sahm, I usually lived my life somewhere on the border of stir crazy and hermit. I had to make myself leave. When I get overly accustomed to something I start to notice all it's flaws and drawbacks. I start dwelling on all the negative things and what I can do to spruce those things up. Which usually compiles into a never ending to do list. If I should ever get to the end of that list, new projects will have arisen by the time I've crossed the last item off.

And after all the projects and DIY-ing, I ultimately conclude that I need to move somewhere else now because I have taken this place as far as I can take it with my minimal budget and renter status.  (Don't get me wrong, moving has always been motivated by other less shallow factors but honestly somewhere in the deep recesses of my decor loving mind I'm saying "Yes! A blank canvas! This will fulfill all my craigslist and real estate website browsing desires!) All of this is partly because I love to be creative and feel like my home is art and partly because I can be a "things can never be  good enough" perfectionist. Perfectionism breeds discontent and it is not a good place to call home. (I blame Pinterest. Don't we all?)

Don't get me wrong. I love all things that have to do with home. I love the all the blogs and shows and pins that are oriented toward decorating, designing and creating. I feed on them daily. I love to watch a house or a piece of furniture be restored. I love what a difference a coat paint can make. And to be perfectly honest, on vacation I binged on HGTV (a channel I don't get at home) every chance I got. Home design was one of my first loves, one of my first creative outlets. I even took a crack at design school once upon a time. But this is less about my knack for the aesthetically pleasing and more about what drives the habit of getting everything just right. Or what drives the tendency to look around and only pick out the negative.

Perfectionism usually focuses on the outside appearance of something without really assessing what's underneath. It makes us lose sight of what's really important while we try to maintain a front. It makes home less about safety and creating a hallowed resting place and more about the house itself. Perfectionism does not allow the freedom of home. We should be free at home, not pretending we are on an HGTV show (no matter how sweet that would be!) If we live this way will never be comfortable enough to really share our home with others in its natural state and we will miss out on a lot. We create and beautify to share with each other, not to keep it to ourselves.

Speaking of sharing, kids are really good at breaking in a house. They just live in it the way it supposed to be lived in. They even go a step further and see what unconventional things might be fun. My four year old has an obsession with peeing in the fireplace. Just don't ask. I have no answers for this. *Sigh* I promise you, have a kid in your house long enough and you won't even wince over company dropping crumbs on the carpet or squashing you're cute pillows from Pier1. You really won't.

Kids have taught me to love my space and use my space well. They have also helped me break my tendacy toward perfectionism in other areas of life and not just on the homestead. But that is another post for another time. 

Another thing that helps rearrange my perspective on home is being a city dweller. It is a daily eye opener. I can't count all the cardboard signs and empty stares I drive by on my way to and from my nice temperature controlled space filled with people I love. I can't help but wonder what thier story is, what led them to this corner where they beg for handouts day in and day out. I wonder what it would feel like to not have the security of home. No where to shut out the noise of the world or to relax and feel safe. No where to gather around the table or curl under the covers at night. This makes me so grateful for what I do I have instead of pining for what I don't have. This makes me want to open my door and share my resources and my gifts even if I don't think they are perfect but simply because I have them.

                                                          

Home has become a comfort because of all the reasons lurking underneath the decor. It's comforting because of its imperfections and not despite them. I've decided that not only can I make peace with imperfection but that it actually makes things more interesting and lovely in an unexpected sort of way. 

I have been on the journey of creating home and finding balance with perfection for awhile now. It's something I have to constantly revisit it since I move often and just love to dabble in the art of making a home beautiful. I have followed the Nester for along time and was ecstatic when she released her book: The Nesting Place. I love that she posts undone and messy photos of her house in progress. I have adopted her mantra "it doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful" as my own. I highly recommend reading any of her writing to anyone who can relate to what's been said in this post.

What are some of your favorite things about home? Are there other creatives who have trouble sharing your gifts or creations because you feel it's not perfect? Maybe it's not your home but another area where you have impossibly high standards? Just something to think about. 

Thanks for reading today :)

Responding to Depression

I hesitate to tackle this subject. Any one with an ounce of sensitivity should too. But I would be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about it, even while I'm on vacation. Longing to find some meaning in it all. Trying not to be thrown this way or that by all the opinions and posts flying around about the death of Robin Williams this past week.

As I read through articles on depression and suicide, a couple of questions surface especially among Christian circles: Is it a disease or a choice? Are people with depression issues victims or just selfish? 

I have to wonder: is now really the best time to be deciding our beliefs and opinions surrounding these issues?  

I mean, celebrity or not, a human life just ceased to exist from our reality. And what's more is that it happens everyday, probably every minute. Death is part of life. Life as we know it is fallen and not fair. Depressed, anxious, plagued people are everywhere. Not just on TV, but passing us on the street, perusing our Facebook, serving us our coffee and maybe even sleeping in our bed every night. 

And you might not ever even have a clue because that's the nature of the beast. Isolation is the name of the game for some. For the brave souls who choose not to hide, I hope they are met with grace and understanding. I hope the person who responds to them doesn't think about how depression scares them, but looks straight into the eyes of the person in front of them. That they would take into consideration that maybe this person's experience is outside the scope of their own.

I've read too many opinions and too many angry comments. I'm not going to plug my own experience with depression or my opinion about it. And quite honestly I'm not sure what it is quite yet. I'm still figuring it out. 

I'm not a fan of blanket statements. There are so many factors that play into depression and mental illness. Factors like personality type, what kind of home you grew up in, what you have learned about the issue, what kind of support system surrounds you, general health and spirituality, on and on it goes. And it varies from case to case. Depression is complicated because people are complicated. 

Am I the only one guilty of trying to sum up the problems of the world because it makes me feel in control? 

My brand of faith is often known for being narrow minded and insensitive in tragic situations. Not all, but some. I know have been in times past. I'm not proud of that. Now, I try not to be quick to judge or draw a thick black line down the middle. Because I'm not that smart and maybe I don't want to be. 

Maybe I'm just going to focus on what I do know instead of trying to figure out what makes people tick. Here's what I do know: people need each other. They don't need an opinion or a bible verse or for you to react out of your own fear or awkwardness. They might just need you to sit beside them and be real. 

To listen. 

To be sad. 

To be honest about your own pain and questions. 

To be quiet. 

This isn't a new message or even really that profound. It's actually pretty simple. So instead of searching frantically to grab ahold of a belief about life and suicide and death and depression, I'm just going to look at those around me. I'm not going to pretend I have the answers but I'll be available. I'll try on empathy. I'll be like Jesus when he wept over his friend and not try to weed out all the so called sin in the world as if this was my job. 

And I'm going to look at myself. I'm going to be honest about when I feel like world is closing in or when I need a counselor or a friend. I'm going to make that call and not give into the lie of isolation. And I'm not going to let people make me feel weird about it. So I'm not happy all the time and I don't always cope perfectly. I haven't met a human that does yet. If you meet one, let me know.

And I'm not talking about skipping out on truth telling. There is a time and a place for all of that. I want to be the person who knows when and where that is. I want to weigh my words carefully and my motives even more carefully.

Then there is this cursor blinking at me, telling me to say something more. But in the spirit of this post and because I value white space, I won't. Because I don't really know what else to say and I'm ok with that. I hope you are too. 

On getting there..

Does it ever happen to you that the more prepared you are for something the more seems to go wrong? Like the more planning involved the less likely things are to go according to plan? Especially when traveling. I've packed and shopped all week. I won't bore you with details but just know I have packed enough snacks and pinterested enough car friendly kid activities to fly around the world. 

We're just driving to Florida. 14 hours. 2 kids. And about a million ants. We've just stopped at our half way point to spend the night and happened to unknowingly park on top of a very large ant hill. Imagine our surprise when we are loading up this morning only to find thousands of tiny ants feasting on a buffet of goldfish crackers, raisins and the orange pop that soaked into the back floorboard last night. Now imagine the line of cars at the gas station impatiently staring at us as we proceed to take every item out of the car and pile it on the ground for inspection before we vacuum. It's only 9 am. 

I won't mention that we were stuck in traffic three hours yesterday and how very challenging this is to our four year old's potty training skills, which seem to have regressed from ok to non existent. Or the fact that there is a nail in our back tire. Oh and our left headlight burnt out. Again.  

Not complaining or anything.

Maybe it's just that illusion of control that preparing brings, then when the inevitable yet unexpected happens we are surprised and frustrated. Maybe I should learn to expect the unexpected and lean into flexibility. Enjoying the journey is no easy task. 

Except for when you get there. When you reach the prize. Then you tend to forget the not so easy parts of the journey or you can at least justify that they were worth it. Ask any marathon runner, PhD student or new mother. They will tell you the grunt work and the little upsets along the way to thier goal were not easy but that they would do it again. What is the saying .."Nothing worth having comes easy."  

But how about when you have 6 hours to go and there are ants crawling up your leg? Or when you hit mile 15 and you're pretty sure your toes are bleeding? Or when you can't take another breath in labor but you have to push just one more time? 

Press on. 

Know you're not alone.

Keep your eye on the prize.

Quote some inspirational cliches. 

Whatever you got to do to just get there. Because you will. Whether you are prepared or not. Whether it turns out to be what you expected or not. You will get there.  Wherever there is. And remember that once you attain this present goal a new challenge will soon take it's place. That's what makes us grow and mature. Lessons that we learn on a hard journey are the ones that become a part of who we are. The experiences become a layer of us. And blog posts. 

As the beloved Shauna Niequist says in her book Bittersweet:

"When you stay with something instead of walking away, it builds something new inside of you, something solid and weighty, something durable. But you do have to wait for it, you have to earn it the hard way."

Now my story is a little funny and I might be a little dramatic to compare it to the actual hard things of life. I pride myself in the uncanny capability to make mountains out of molehills. Or anthills, whichever. 

Dear Self,

Recently I happened across a blog post from a friend who I admire very much. She is a mama of 1, soon to be 2 boys, a creative graphic designer and an entrepreneurial spirit who seems to get it all done in a fashionable outfit on a minimal budget. The post was entitled “Quit your day job” and it is about the transition she is facing as she becomes a full time sahm/work from home mom. She says :

 I'm struggling with worrying how to juggle doing both. And do both well. But if you never try, then you'll never know, right? I'm either on the verge of something great, or a mental breakdown. 

 A little of both, I’m thinking. I love that line tho because it describes the season so well. I started to comment back because she asks for advice from seasoned sahm/wahm’s. As I started the reply, it got rather lengthy and exceeded a normal reply status. I think it has struck such a cord with me because for 1) I have been a sahm for the better part of 10 years (sometimes working, or going to school sometimes not) and 2) I am going to start a new job in 2 weeks. For the first time. In. ten. long. years.

Dont get me wrong, I loved being at home. The flexibility and the time with the kids and not missing a moment and the opportunity to go slow if one should so master how to do that. (I never did) What I didn’t like was the loneliness and the heaviness of the weight that often comes with the role and the fact that it feels like your very life depends on naptime. So I became a tad cynical. We all go through stages and I love that women are creatures who love to share and glean advice or perspective from each other. Here was what I would have posted on her comments section had it not been so long:

Congrats on the change of pace! I have always admired your creativity and tenacity and now it will be channeled into a new role for a season. It sounds as if you are realistic about the whole thing and that helps! One suggestion I wish I would have learned long ago is to carve out time for adult interaction outside your home throughout the day and even though it may feel like work dragging yourself and the two littles out, just do it. This is no longer built in to your schedule and if you are proactive about it , its something that adds up a little by little over time. (On the same note, don’t be afraid to actually stay at home when you or your kids need to and learn to know those times when you should not be out and about, no overdoing it!)

 Also carve out times for yourself to do nothing or invest in your creative habits and don’t feel guilty about it for one. single. second. Your family will be ok if you are ok. Be gentle with yourself. Forgive yourself if you mess up or if you can’t please everyone, including the children (which is not in the job description, btw). Accept help and don’t feel like because you don’t “work” you shouldn't need help. Rubbish. You actually probably need more help because you are always on duty.

Accept and expect imperfect results. Just because you have more time now (haha) doesn’t mean house duties and cooking will get done in an orderly fashion or done at all sometimes. Let yourself prioritize what the need of the moment is. Sometimes you need to sit alone while the kids entertain themselves or nap rather than do something productive. That’s ok. You aren’t a machine. No one is paying you to do the laundry but you will pay for being frazzled and overwhelmed.

Being a mother in any form is an overwhelming responsibility from which we will reap major rewards. Sometimes those rewards come in the form of a precious little smile or few words from your child that touches your heart because you know deep down they are so so grateful for you. Other rewards we won’t reap until they are grown. But stay the course, you are doing great.

Probably at the top of this long winded list would be to not lose yourself in your role. You are not only a mother. You are a woman, loved and treasured by God. Breathe that in every day. Most of this I need to hear myself, because mothering never ends no matter what else is going in life, it only morphs and changes shape as time goes on.

And that is the truth. these words are to myself. I need to extend the same grace to myself as I would to any other woman out there. I’m curious what advice or word of encouragement working mothers would add on how to make work and home jive together? Because really. We all need each other.