Life feels a bit like 5th grade P.E. at the moment. Remember standing against the wall waiting to pick teams for dodge ball? The teacher would appoint two captains, and you waited (and silently screamed) to be picked for your team of choice. While Ashley might be your BFF of the week, John was your crush of the week and inevitably, better at dodge ball…so the choice was clear. That is, until they started calling off names.
KAYLA! CHASE! STEPHEN! MATT!
Oh my! How am I supposed to choose now? Stephen and John are best friends, the cutest boys in the class AND they’re on opposing teams? Ohh, I’m not sure i want to be on the same team as Chase. Maybe I should be on Ashley’s team instead. Well, would I rather win or have more fun? Hmm.
LEONNA! Ugh. Sooo slow. PAIGE! Dang, they picked her before me?
Suddenly the entire game was different. I’d stand there and fret over which was the better option until my name was called….as if my weighing out the options made any difference. Just like life.
THIS JOB! THAT JOB! SCHOOL! LIVE THERE!
What?? Same place, different job? Different place, same people? Mixing business with pleasure? School now or later? Same school, different program? The options keep changing, and I don’t even know what team to jump on! But let’s face it. Analyzing and over analyzing all of the various scenarios won’t make much of a difference. Ultimately, I don’t get to pick my team. I’m chosen for it.
It didn’t end when we got the keys to our new place. Or when we completed our first week of work. Or even, the first time we said “y’all” without a giggle. Everything about this move is still a process as we change, as we grow.
I can’t speak for moves that are more job-related, as ours was far from it. We just showed up here one day and became a part of this city. I don’t mean to bore you as I know you are well aware that we moved, but sometimes it still blows me away. We got here and reinvented our lives it seemed. I almost wish we had dyed our hair green or something because no one would have known the difference. Our routines are different, our friends are different, our identities—even slightly different.
When we lived in Iowa, people knew us by various things, be it music or personal history. When we moved, we dropped all of that. Parts of our life are no longer as big as they used to be, while others have become bigger. Some parts are yet to be determined. It’s interesting to see what stuck. What was innately “us” regardless of people, places and things. While other elements of us may have only been for a season, there are certain talents and tendencies that won’t go away.
So do it. Make a change. Travel. Leap. Move. Do something crazy. Challenge yourself. It may not all be fun or easy. You might end up more confused than when you started. But the core of who you are can take it. You’ll grow and change, and the things that remain the same may tell you more about yourself than the things that changed.
I write. You can’t deny it. Whether you think it’s good or bad is not the point. Regardless, I write. I write when I’m thinking through something or learning new lessons or fighting my fears or fleeing from life’s many mysteries. I write to sort through my thoughts and sometimes even to share them with you. It’s an expression and an art form, yet it also remains one of life’s simplest tasks. You don’t need to be a published author to write a to-do list. Nor a famous blogger to type out your daily activities. There’s something I love about that. And something about it that I detest.
I love writing. There’s so many things I could say about it yet still barely scratch the surface. That’s just it. How do you express what can’t be put to words? How to describe the clarity of colors? Or how to go on about the desperate desires of the heart set to song? Sometimes I wish my form of expression wasn’t something also found on a mere post-it note at work. But, oh how I love post-it notes. I love using a pen to jot something down as it emerges from a flitting idea into a coherent thought. The moment you escape the present and get lost in a realm of possibilities.
Writing makes you pause. You have to consider the appropriate word, and even reconsider it, before moving to the next. What is it? How to organize the countless thoughts that are running through your head? Which one takes precedent? Scream and shout. Whisper and murmur. It all looks the same on paper.
I think I could write an entire book about writing without really saying anything at all. Consider this my attempt at abstract art—a mess of colors that can only be truly understood by its creator, if even so.
On my last day of being a stay-at-home-wife before returning to work, I must say a few things to you, my future self. In this time between jobs I’ve spent many mornings and afternoons in a world only stay-at-home people know. It’s given me a glimpse into that life: mid-morning work-out classes, daytime grocery shopping, running errands, housework and time alone. Whether you have been given the blessing of being a stay-at-home-mom or even the blessing of still being alive, please keep the following in mind.
First of all, this letter is harder to start writing than I thought. At the gym this morning all of those ladies kept gossiping and complaining about every little thing from the person next to them being to close to the ways they lied to their husbands. It drove you nuts enough to write this letter. Remember that. Remember the way that just standing next to it made you feel icky and do not engage in that kind of behavior—gossip or foolish talk. It’s not hard to become that way but it also isn’t graceful, becoming or admirable. It’s a nasty habit, so instead decide to say and do otherwise and I promise your ability to make an impact will be greater without such prattle. (p.s. don’t stop going to the gym though—you need to stay in shape and stay healthy, regardless of your age).
Take note: Monday morning shoppers mean business. And good for them! While you might want to stay out of their way, I’m sure some sort of routine is good. Make a list and accomplish more. The weeks I went sans-list were not even half as productive as the ones with a list. While these small tasks and chores add up, they are still important. They mean you are taking care of your husband, your family, your friends and yourself. Stay motivated.
Go beyond what you know. Forgo the routine from time to time and open your eyes to another part of town, even if it’s just the other side of the street. Because there are people everywhere. People who need love and support and food and friends. You can give those things. Don’t be so motivated to tackle that to-do list that you overlook the needs of others in this city. Love on them. Welcome the “inconvenience” and share your joy with others. Serve in your areas of strength, and even serve in ways that you aren’t immediately comfortable.
With whatever time alone you have, don’t drown out all the quiet with extra noise. Spend some time in prayer, in the word and in reflection. This is the bottom line, not the bottom of the pile.
I don’t know what life will look like for you—if there are 2 kids or ten, a full-time job or freelance gigs, joy or mourning—whatever it is, don’t get lost in it. Don’t get lost in yourself, your plans or your routine. Look at the bigger picture and keep dreaming big. Invest in others and challenge yourself to do what seems impossible. Love. Love God. Love your husband. Love your kids (if you have ‘em). Love those around you. Love those who aren’t around you. Always love.
Five years ago on a warm spring day with the sense of change in the air, I found this skirt. Feeling artistic after visiting too many art galleries and in the mood to be spontaneous, I bought it on a whim. I was having fun with friends at a cute little vintage shop downtown when I saw it and knew in that moment I could become that girl.
That girl in the bright green skirt with red lace. That girl who was cool and confident—able to wear anything that fit. That girl who was fun and inspiring, with a sense of adventure and excitement. I wanted it all and knew $14 later, I would be that much closer.
Guess what?
The tags are still on it. That skirt has moved with me 6 times now, always with the hope that one day I’d find the top that somehow matches and the right occasion to take it off the hanger. It’s time to stop. Stuff can’t define someone. That skirt was not going to change me any more than yesterday’s haircut. Furthermore, it’s well past time to stop romanticizing about the power of such a gaudy skirt. It’s time instead to open it up for someone else to own it. With any luck it will actually be worn in the next five years.
It’s 2013. People have mostly made their resolutions and maybe even already broken them. That’s the beauty of holding out a few weeks. I can hopefully have better luck sticking with it. While I haven’t set all my goals yet for this year, I did dig up last year’s list. How I managed to locate the page in the middle of one of the dozens of miscellaneous notebooks is beyond me but I was glad to find it regardless. It’s titled Finish Year based on a little Jon Acuff encouragement, but otherwise, it’s a resolution list by any other name.
So how did I do? Almost better than I could have hoped! Woot! Here’s the list from last year and how I tackled it.
Music: Record 2 songs. While they weren’t the songs I thought they would be, the hubby and I did put out some Christmas songs this year as well as a few other originals. He did most of the heavy lifting, but hey, it happened!
Exercise: 500 Miles. While the miles could be anything (elliptical/biking/running/etc.) I quickly realized that biking was my favorite. It led to a day of Ragbrai—a long time goal of mine—and I was so glad for the opportunity! I kept a tally on the fridge and hit 500 miles even without the 85 at Ragbrai. I’ll admit to losing count after 500, but it did happen. Not to mention, I really got into the habit of going to some fun classes like Zumba or weight lifting and that didn’t count towards anything. Extra bonus: the hubby got into it too and we got to spend plenty of weekends biking around town together.
Spiritual: Bible reading. Alright.This happened but not to the extent that I wanted it to or would like it to. I’d try and commit to a book of the Bible and then get distracted or find excuses. So, this was not one I’m checking off the list, but one I will pray to be better at. In high school I made the resolution on year to read my Bible every day—and I did it too. But I noticed then that it became something I did out of obligation. This year I’m praying to find the right balance. I want it to be part of my daily life but I also want it to be real and focused.
Cleaning: Purge all things not wanted in a potential move. Yes, this was a goal well before we knew we were moving. We knew we wanted to move but had no idea if it would be in 2 months or 10 years. So can I get some credit for moving? Yeah! We did do some major purging, or so I thought before we moved. And then we got here and said, we need to do that again (the purging part). So this is a little like the last one—it’s moving forward and I’d say it happened but it’s a work in progress. This week I’m hoping to do some major clearing out of our closets.
Photography: Build a portfolio. I’m still figuring out what part photography will play in my life. At one point I loved it. And then I found myself inhibited by my own fears and expectations. Is it something I should really pursue? Do I like it as a business opportunity or just as a hobby? I did do a family shoot in 2012 and am considering what to do with it this year.
Food: 1. A week-long juice and raw foods fast. 2. Go two weeks without chocolate or sweets. This happened! I did the raw diet. It was tough but did help. I learned later though that the juice should be more veggie based than fruit to be really effective and also that it takes a while for your stomach to adjust. I did notice that during the weeks I went without chocolate/sweets I felt good. I’ll probably try to do short-term detoxes again but let’s be real, I have a sweet tooth and the idea of cutting more out of my diet permanently is just a little rough.
As I lay on the couch surrounded by tissues and cold remedies, watching yet another documentary on Netflix, I am guessing you are not jealous at all of my “adventures.” Oh yeah, let’s also remember to add the fact that I am currently searching for a job. Living the life.
Okay, so maybe my life isn’t awe-inspiring today. Despite a move without security, some bold decisions and my proximity to the mountains, here I am, struggling to breathe out of my nose. Impressive, huh? Maybe paying the bills and doing dishes is inevitable. So succumb to the mediocrity? No. But don’t be inhibited by it either.
I think sometimes we can let passion and excitement get away from us. We start dreaming of greatness and impact. The vision can seem so clear in our minds. It’s awesome, too. We need that vision, that drive, that passion. But when life throws something more mundane our way, we can get completely thrown off track. For some, that means not ever dealing with the chores and responsibilities of life in order to keep on towards the dream. For others, it amounts to being bogged down so much by the monotony that we lose sight of the dream. Both are terrible pitfalls.
We have to fight through both to achieve anything. And the word is fight. It can’t happen without insane effort and perseverance. I’m also of the belief that it can’t all happen at once and it can’t all happen (more on that later). There’s going to be lulls and there will be peaks. But I truly think that consistency makes all the difference. The continual push, the major and minor decisions. Keep pressing forward.
To put to words what my “health” does to my daily life is almost painful in itself. While in some ways I feel as though I talk about it almost nonstop as people question and want to hear the story, in other regards I feel as though I can hardly share with anyone at all what it really entails.
I’m not on death’s row, nor do I have a name for whatever it is that I endure. Not to be melodramatic, but endure feels as though it’s the only word suitable for it at the moment. I suppose you could liken it to a chronic illness, although in restaurants and at the dinner table we call it an allergy. If only it was that simple. Sometimes it’s not bad at all and other days it feels like more than I know how to handle.
To avoid being entirely vague for those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, for the past few years I have been through countless doctors, diets and decisions regarding my health. What was once thought to be a case of strep throat that wouldn’t quit turned into a numerous visits to the GI specialist who eventually told me my only option was to give up, because he had long ago. After senseless side effects from dozens of prescriptions, I pushed for more tests and ultimately sprung for a surgery I hoped against hope would end it all. With a few small but lasting scars to my stomach, I got to continue the chase. After an allergist jotted down some notes and sent me off without the slightest bit of advice, I found myself without a long list of foods in addition to my already absent gallbladder. From there I traveled across the state every six weeks to visit the only person who seemed to have a clue what was going on, through methods that sound laughable such as “laser acupuncture” and some crazy machine no one has ever heard of.
It’s all a barrel of laughs as we recount it over almost every dinner table we share with friends and family. We talk about it as if it’s distant history, something that hardly matters anymore, despite the fact that my diet is more limited than anyone I’ve ever met. Oh, your cousin has had to go gluten-free? Sorry to be harsh, but that sounds like a cakewalk in comparison at this point. They make aisles of products that are specifically gluten-free and have entire menus dedicated to gluten-free options. Try going without garlic, onions and corn (and all of said by-products) for a week and see just how easy it is to eat with other people. Not to mention gluten, oats, barley and many other items to varying degrees.
I’ve likely said more than I should. I wish I knew how to best express how debilitating it can feel sometimes to figure out what to eat. There are days that it doesn’t bother me and it practically seems like a non-issue, really. There are even days that I get through the whole day without feeling sick or worrying about feeling sick later. But then there are days that anything I eat feels like a huge hurdle to overcome, and I’d much prefer to skip eating altogether, if only I could be issued some sort of gummy vitamin that provided me all of the nutritional value I needed for a meal. Mentally, it’s a struggle that I cannot even find the words for at times. Physically, it also continues to be a struggle. Because some days, I’m still sick. Despite all the many things I’ve done and changed, I continue to be sick and not only do I still get sick, but then I desperately try to figure out what I did, what I ate, to cause it. The lack of knowledge in itself is maddening. This is not something I want my life to be about, if only I could shake it.
So at the risk of losing all dignity, that was my shot at honesty about it all. I don’t know how to explain it even to my closest of friends, yet it’s something I must face daily. I am still learning to handle it with grace and patience, but often fail miserably. It’s the cause of many tears, terse words and sleepless nights. I wish I could say that I was better at coping with it. Perhaps in some ways I have become better about it but in other ways, the exhaustion of constantly dealing with it has worn me down. For fear of potentially bursting into tears or speaking with either bitterness or embarrassment, I do what I can to keep it lighthearted or avoid it when possible. Truthfully though, I just wish it would all go away. It doesn’t seem likely anytime soon, so please bear with me as I try to cope as best as possible.
Lately, the hubby and I have been on a total documentary kick. We’ve always loved them, but I think we’ve watched somewhere near 15-20 in the last month or so. It’s getting a little excessive but somehow, each time it gets going I can’t help but get sucked in. There’s something about them that make you want to take over the world for good or at least commit to doing something absurd for a little while, just to try it.
We’ve watched ones about top ballet dancers under the age of 20, what it means to become “Santa” in the eyes of others, bike riding through the continental divide, using Craigslist to live and create community, what makes a man a man when it comes down to body hair and all sorts of others. Tonight, we watched No Impact Man, which was about living off a sustainable environment and giving up things that created waste and poor energy usage. They made a lot of sacrifices but also brought on a lot of new and exciting experiences.
Throughout it all, you’ve got to wonder…what REALLY matters? Is it washing your clothes in a bathtub and forgoing packaged food? It is setting a challenge of physical strength and endurance and fighting through? Is it restoring the magic of Christmas? Is it saving the turtles? Going gluten-free? Adopting ten children? Wearing your retainer every night?
While these all might be good things for you to do and commit to, you can’t do it all. It’s not possible. These documentaries often showed what people gave a major portion of their life to. What’s the cause that really matters? Why should we care about any of it? Should we continue to stand by while a few people put their dreams to the test?
I am always a “late bloomer” with resolutions/goals, as I tend to set them sometime between January and February. But these are some of the questions I am considering while I create my list. To wrestle with what’s worth it, or even what’s more important…
