I recently bought Fritos for a good-buy party for a good friend from church. They were on sale and made me think about my mom. She loved them along with butter pecan ice cream, Triscuits, mound bars, raspberries and hot water. The description on the front of the Fritos bag read all natural, gluten free, no trans fats, so I believe them to be a health snack that I can enjoy without guilt.
My cousin told me that my grandmother began buying at the age of 90, after my grandfather passed away. She would pull out a bag, pour a few into a little bowl and enjoy them with her afternoon coffee. She said, "I like to take a few of these in the afternoon. I never bought them when Tigger (her husband) was alive, because he didn't care for them. She sacrificed for sixty some years, tolerating his bugles instead. I am guessing that he did not even know that she liked them.
I think about that as I enter my 13th year of marriage. What have I given up that I might really enjoy, artichokes, lobster, control of our finances, hiking, dance classes? A 26 year old neighbors son asked me to go salsa dancing saying, since you are married, being your partner wouldn't be weird. But the truth is, I kinda want to dance with my husband, and for him to want to go Scottish dancing, swing dancing, even though it might not be cool, or to just slow dance in some cheesy dance hall.
My husband is always saying, eat what you want, dance, hike! The trouble is that I want to do those things with him, but the him who would agree to enjoy it, if that is even possible. Maybe this is the year I will become more secure in my adventures and go off to do them without needing approval or to be accompanied.
At a minimum, I would like to put some dreams on the board to work toward. I know they might never happen and some will take years to manage, but here goes.
- Be in each moment with my kids - Enjoying our time together! (writing it and living in it)
- Get out of debt and start saving
- Tithe consistently
- Settle on a regular writing schedule
- Plan and take a hike
- Buy some piece of clothing that feels like me
- Co-managing our family finances
- Read one book from my mom's list - God of Small Things
- Subscribe to and read a lit magazine (and submit work to it)
- Run
- Make art
- Play Guitar
I know I can't do them all today, but having a point to shoot for gets me closer. Looking over my list, they all speak of a kind of rhythm that I long for in my weeks.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Planting
I planted raspberries at the top of the hill in my back yard tonight. It took hauling in dirt, wood chips, 15 little plants and a lot of digging and mixing. I have never had my own land, so it is exciting to look out my window and see the red line, where the pine mulch surrounds my hope of fresh fruit this summer. We had them growing up and my mom and I would collect a few every day for most of the summer. It is a way to remember the colorful spaces that she and my dad created for us.
Being the Odd Woman Out
I have worked many jobs in my 35 years. In them, I live by the motto, I will figure it out. The insurmountables were overcome as I stumbled through financial formulas in Excel, developed courses in communications and fired several people while being empathetic.
In each role, I have had to pretend I was competent until others and I believed it. Running for Nike, working in HR and now being in a "mom" role are challenging. My skills are not the traditional ones you would seek out if you were looking to hire in the exacting work they require. Each has a lot to do with planning, hyper-sensitivity and having the ego of an expert.
It is not that I can't have an ego, but it takes an hour of looking in the mirror and saying the, "I'm good enough, smart enough and people like me" speech first. The confidence does not last longer than the event I target and so I go back to being a nervous reck until I launch into the psych up process all over again.
The irony is that I love an audience. There is nothing better than reading my work to a class or talking in front of a group. It gets me all pumped up. This blog is a thrill to write, because you are reading. I just reviewed my hits to this site for the first time and am floored that at one point I had 183 viewers, which makes me feel like sprinting around my circle while screaming at the top of my lungs!
Two weeks ago when I spoke at my Mom's Group, I remembered my love of an audience first hand. I had three things to share about starting a Freezer Meal Club. Here is the gist: 1) If I were to decide which sister I was between Martha and Mary (from the Bible), I would have to say I am the third sister, sitting in my room with a book. 2) If I were being considered for the job of "mom" based on what I perceive to be the job description, I would never be hired. All the planning, organizing, cleaning, disciplining and directing do not come easily. My mom didn't care about that stuff and neither do I. I watch other moms do the grunt work with the grace and ease of a ballerina pirouetting across the stage. It is not even that I am choosing to spend more time with my kids over these things as I often sit in anxious land worrying about how I will get those freezer meals made for tonight, finish the book I am to lead at book club tonight, and handle the basic needs of my family. 3) Freezer meals and babysitting co-ops and any number of other support systems are about sharing the load. I wonder why parenting is not more corporate in that I could share resources and strengths, while strategizing on the stuff I am not interested in, to make the whole situation more enjoyable. I love group planning, generating the ideas for businesses, food prep, childcare or writing. I would love to have a joint play-group and clean house event, where we could make housework about socializing over isolated manual labor. I work best with others, and thus, wonder what I am doing at home alone with my kids.
All I can think is that God has a sense of humor and is wanting me to grow more dependent on him and to let go of the formula's of others. I don't have to work inside anyone else's job description. I am my own boss and can make up my own rules! That being said, if anyone wants to have a cleaning house party or a monthly meal planning event, I am in!
In each role, I have had to pretend I was competent until others and I believed it. Running for Nike, working in HR and now being in a "mom" role are challenging. My skills are not the traditional ones you would seek out if you were looking to hire in the exacting work they require. Each has a lot to do with planning, hyper-sensitivity and having the ego of an expert.
It is not that I can't have an ego, but it takes an hour of looking in the mirror and saying the, "I'm good enough, smart enough and people like me" speech first. The confidence does not last longer than the event I target and so I go back to being a nervous reck until I launch into the psych up process all over again.
The irony is that I love an audience. There is nothing better than reading my work to a class or talking in front of a group. It gets me all pumped up. This blog is a thrill to write, because you are reading. I just reviewed my hits to this site for the first time and am floored that at one point I had 183 viewers, which makes me feel like sprinting around my circle while screaming at the top of my lungs!
Two weeks ago when I spoke at my Mom's Group, I remembered my love of an audience first hand. I had three things to share about starting a Freezer Meal Club. Here is the gist: 1) If I were to decide which sister I was between Martha and Mary (from the Bible), I would have to say I am the third sister, sitting in my room with a book. 2) If I were being considered for the job of "mom" based on what I perceive to be the job description, I would never be hired. All the planning, organizing, cleaning, disciplining and directing do not come easily. My mom didn't care about that stuff and neither do I. I watch other moms do the grunt work with the grace and ease of a ballerina pirouetting across the stage. It is not even that I am choosing to spend more time with my kids over these things as I often sit in anxious land worrying about how I will get those freezer meals made for tonight, finish the book I am to lead at book club tonight, and handle the basic needs of my family. 3) Freezer meals and babysitting co-ops and any number of other support systems are about sharing the load. I wonder why parenting is not more corporate in that I could share resources and strengths, while strategizing on the stuff I am not interested in, to make the whole situation more enjoyable. I love group planning, generating the ideas for businesses, food prep, childcare or writing. I would love to have a joint play-group and clean house event, where we could make housework about socializing over isolated manual labor. I work best with others, and thus, wonder what I am doing at home alone with my kids.
All I can think is that God has a sense of humor and is wanting me to grow more dependent on him and to let go of the formula's of others. I don't have to work inside anyone else's job description. I am my own boss and can make up my own rules! That being said, if anyone wants to have a cleaning house party or a monthly meal planning event, I am in!
The Editing Process
On Wednesday, I met with my writing coach to do an in-depth edit of a short story. I had my ten month old and three year old in tough and traveled over an hour to hit my destination, Lansing, MI. Once inside Decker Coffee, my baby was happy roaming around the coaches and entertaining himself. My three year old was the opposite, repeatedly asked if we could leave and edging towards the door. He was terrified of the the skeletons and big alien eyes of the heads painted in black and white and red art pieces littering the the walls. Every day since, he has told me he does not want to go back to Decker's.
In the midst of that, my coach and I managed to do a line by line review, where in some cases, each word in a sentence was examined. My piece included many words like, "it" and "that," where we talked about giving the reader more concrete descriptions. I noticed how the sentence structures were often repetitive. Then there were tenses to play with, hyphens to add and an endless list of ideas for making my work stronger.
I have also been reading a lot of short stories to try and understand what makes a good one (i.e. how do I write like others so that I can get published). I feel like I am staring over a huge valley, knowing Atlantis is hidden in the trees or clouds and that the only way to the promised land is by bushwhacking with a large machete and a good pair of boots.
I sit in a similar quandary about reaching God. I know it is not about building the Tower of Babel, but I watch my friends from church "working out their salvation" in how they live, serve and share themselves authentically and I feel like I am 10,000 miles from reaching their circle of faith.
I am guessing at the way forward being things like, running, a therapist, writing, me showing up in the dialogue of this entry, showing up to find the plants worth tilling the desert in my soul. I have been avoiding my desk since the Wednesday's sit down. Likewise I have been avoiding God, because I am afraid that I don't have what it takes to make it through the wilderness to some brilliant understanding on the other side. I know that there are only two choices though, sit here in fear, or put on my running shoes and attempt the impossible in writing one word to get me closer to experiencing God.
In the midst of that, my coach and I managed to do a line by line review, where in some cases, each word in a sentence was examined. My piece included many words like, "it" and "that," where we talked about giving the reader more concrete descriptions. I noticed how the sentence structures were often repetitive. Then there were tenses to play with, hyphens to add and an endless list of ideas for making my work stronger.
I have also been reading a lot of short stories to try and understand what makes a good one (i.e. how do I write like others so that I can get published). I feel like I am staring over a huge valley, knowing Atlantis is hidden in the trees or clouds and that the only way to the promised land is by bushwhacking with a large machete and a good pair of boots.
I sit in a similar quandary about reaching God. I know it is not about building the Tower of Babel, but I watch my friends from church "working out their salvation" in how they live, serve and share themselves authentically and I feel like I am 10,000 miles from reaching their circle of faith.
I am guessing at the way forward being things like, running, a therapist, writing, me showing up in the dialogue of this entry, showing up to find the plants worth tilling the desert in my soul. I have been avoiding my desk since the Wednesday's sit down. Likewise I have been avoiding God, because I am afraid that I don't have what it takes to make it through the wilderness to some brilliant understanding on the other side. I know that there are only two choices though, sit here in fear, or put on my running shoes and attempt the impossible in writing one word to get me closer to experiencing God.
Monday, May 02, 2011
One Hope to Fill the Void of This Day
I am all emotion spilling out of my weekend of late nights and good-byes. I have looked the deep void within my soul in the eyes and I am afraid. The eyes that as a child would watch couples kissing and think they were so happy, making me want the same attention.
I watched Water for Elephants and the main character's chief aim in life becomes satisfying his wife with every good thing she never had before their embrace. In the end she dies and leaves him anyway. I look to friends, my husband, buying more stuff, anything to plug the great obis that cries out for me to fill it with white noise. I want it to scream up at me things like, "you are not alone," "I desire you," "i'm not going to leave you," but the truth is, no words can reassure me. Even in making my husband repeat back what I believe are words of reassurance, they echo around my head and I keep grasping for more words, stronger words, better phrases that can fill me. With twelve years and 12,000 I love you's I still doubt my ability to be loved. All the insecurities and attempts at finding the exact right kiss feels like a chasing after the wind.
Today I sit at Jesus's feet knowing that to truely be free of this, I have to accept the "brutal reality" that even if I lose everything, my husband, my kids, my mom, my friends and am completely alone, I still have "fierce hope." I can only know for certain that Jesus will never leave me and desires me and loves me and that is it. So I just need to be with Him, because every other thought makes me frantic to the point of breaking.
So today I put down his words:
Psalm 121
I will life up my eyes to the mountain;
From where shall my help come? (everyone around me? NO)
My help comes from [you] Lord;
[You] who made heaven and earth.
[You] who will not allow [my] foot to slip;
[You] who keep [me] will not slumber.
Behold [You] who keep Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
[You] are my keeper;
[You] are my shade at [my] right hand.
The sun will not smite [me] by day,
Nor the mood by night.
[You] will protect [me] from all evil;
[You] will keep my soul.
[You] will guard [my] going out and [my] coming in from this time forth and forever.
(paraphrased from New American Standard Version)
I watched Water for Elephants and the main character's chief aim in life becomes satisfying his wife with every good thing she never had before their embrace. In the end she dies and leaves him anyway. I look to friends, my husband, buying more stuff, anything to plug the great obis that cries out for me to fill it with white noise. I want it to scream up at me things like, "you are not alone," "I desire you," "i'm not going to leave you," but the truth is, no words can reassure me. Even in making my husband repeat back what I believe are words of reassurance, they echo around my head and I keep grasping for more words, stronger words, better phrases that can fill me. With twelve years and 12,000 I love you's I still doubt my ability to be loved. All the insecurities and attempts at finding the exact right kiss feels like a chasing after the wind.
Today I sit at Jesus's feet knowing that to truely be free of this, I have to accept the "brutal reality" that even if I lose everything, my husband, my kids, my mom, my friends and am completely alone, I still have "fierce hope." I can only know for certain that Jesus will never leave me and desires me and loves me and that is it. So I just need to be with Him, because every other thought makes me frantic to the point of breaking.
So today I put down his words:
Psalm 121
I will life up my eyes to the mountain;
From where shall my help come? (everyone around me? NO)
My help comes from [you] Lord;
[You] who made heaven and earth.
[You] who will not allow [my] foot to slip;
[You] who keep [me] will not slumber.
Behold [You] who keep Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
[You] are my keeper;
[You] are my shade at [my] right hand.
The sun will not smite [me] by day,
Nor the mood by night.
[You] will protect [me] from all evil;
[You] will keep my soul.
[You] will guard [my] going out and [my] coming in from this time forth and forever.
(paraphrased from New American Standard Version)
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