What We Don’t See

Stairway | Moving Peaces

Sometimes I hesitate to share the victories without sharing the trials. When I write I try to be transparent and make it clear that I don’t have it all together, but I know it still stays vague. Because frankly, it’s not very fun to tell about the challenges and at times, it’s not appropriate to share, be it to protect people or because the timing is just not right. Sharing and showing just the moments of glory–the vacation plans, the promotion news, the family photos, the epic adventure, the finished product–whatever it is, doesn’t tell the whole story. It instead leaves the rest of us to believe that it happened, just like that.

In those moments, I struggle with jealousy. I couldn’t care less if you had a bigger home or a fancier tech gadget. But when I see someone get an amazing opportunity or live an incredible-seeming life, it can sometimes get ugly on the inside for me. Suddenly my mind is off and running that so-and-so had everything handed to them on a silver platter or had the right connections or just naturally awesome hair. I don’t know or care how they managed to pull it off, but why not me?! And then I stamp my foot and pout for awhile.

I see the glory and the end result. I see the attention and the appreciation. I see the success and imagine the dollar signs. I see the art and the opportunity. 

You know what I don’t see? What it took to get there.

I didn’t see the effort they made and all of hard work they poured into it. I didn’t see their fights for what mattered and accompanying sacrifices. I didn’t see the scrimping and saving. I didn’t see the insecurities and doubt. I didn’t see the practice or failures. I didn’t see the years of struggle or nightly prayers.

I didn’t see the journey, all I saw was the reward. 

Then I got jealous or made quick assumptions or gave up on my own goals. I can’t keep doing that. We just can’t do that. Why? Because nobody wins that way.

You want to know how it happened? Ask them. Put in the work and the effort and the years that it takes. Think big breaks never come your way? That’s probably true, but they don’t really happen for anyone who isn’t trying. Sometimes people stumble in to things, but rarely because they were sitting around waiting for it.

I can’t promise that you will get the same end result or that your effort guarantees what you want. But there are ways to lessen the sting or escape the distractions. If I focus on working towards my goals and you focus on yours, we have less to be jealous of and less assumptions to make. Finding friends and support with whom to share our hardships and our dreams strengthens everyone. Gaining an understanding that you are not alone in the struggle brings perspective. Instead of playing the comparison games, we can together walk through the challenges and celebrate each other’s victories.

Disposable Society

Disposable Society

Disposable vs. Longlasting | Moving Peaces

We live in a world of disposable things. Styrofoam cups, paper plates, plastic bags–you’ll probably find at least one of these in every house in America. While there’s a long-term option, these offer a certain convenience. No need to protect them, no worry of damage, no obligation or responsibility.

Every so often we “upgrade” our phones to get a new one. The longevity of one of our most prized possessions is rarely longer than two years. We don’t attempt to fix or restore, just get another. Same thing goes for your TV, vacuum, camera, furniture, clothes and likely countless other items.

We see and experience a lot of transition. We move more often and are greater distances apart. We hold more jobs in the first five years of our career than our grandparents had their entire life. We have the technology at our fingertips to “connect” with anybody at anytime and more options than ever before with how to live our lives.

But how does this impact our relationships? Our friendships, our jobs and our communities? If almost everything in our lives is replaceable, when do we learn to value, respect and cherish what we have? How do we shift our disposable mindset to long-lasting, committed relationships?

Instead of disposable, committed relationships means both parties pledge to make it work and work things out. The kind of relationship that starts great, but when something goes awry, you stick with it anyway. You decide to struggle through and mend what was broken. (Band-aid fixes and shallow apologies are far from real repair.) There’s trust and grace and communication, but when those fail, you try again. You see the value in what was and what can be.

Sure, a fresh start seems easier and has a greater appeal than wading through the mess. Yes, there are times when moving on is natural or absolutely necessary. But more often, I think we get scared. We protect ourselves from heartache by never really committing in the first place. We give up when it gets hard or complicated. We avoid the tough conversations or the truth. We write off anyone that has ever hurt us. We walk away, find someone new and then do it all over again.

Often, we want the ease and comfort of relationships, but none of the work. In the end, we have more acquaintance-level relationships than we can count, but no one we trust to share our hopes and dreams, fears and failures. 

Commit to the work. Agree to the hard part. Struggle through the awkwardness. Reach out with the truth or an apology. Find the middle ground. Be willing to open up and also ask questions. Invest, mend and restore. Build relationships but don’t discard them. Make the effort. Don’t give up.