It's Going to be Okay

 
I am going to tell you something most people don't know about me. I'm secretly an optimist. Those of you who know me personally might be falling over in disbelief, but it is true. Also true is that the majority of people I know would probably describe me as a pessimist, and I have often called myself that as well. For me, being a pessimist is kind of a superstitious thing, like when people throw salt over their shoulder to ward off evil or bring good luck. 
To give you an idea of just how bad my pessimism has been, I will tell you that one of my friends calls me, "Worst case scenario Heffalump." Of course, she uses my actual name and not Heffalump, but you get the gist. Another friend routinely lectures me on my habit of verbalizing the worst things that can happen in any given situation. I am reminded of the immortal words of Edna Mode when she said, "Luck favors the prepared." Somehow, when I imagine the worst, I feel more prepared to face the unexpected mishaps of life. However, despite my habit of pointing out all the things that can go wrong, that is not who I am inside. Inside, I believe that everything will work out. Even the hard stuff. 
Do I believe everything will go my way at every moment? Of course not. Life is HARD. Bad things happen. I have lived long enough to have had personal experiences with grief and pain. Sometimes our best efforts fall short. Unexpected things happen. People let us down. But despite all of those things and many more...it's going to be okay. There is hope. Difficult things strengthen us as we push through them. Forgiveness brings healing. Second chances happen. Third ones too, and on and on. There is light in the world and we find it when we pay attention and look for it. Looking for light is needed now more than ever. And if things are really bad and you aren't finding light anywhere, do your best to BE the light. It will make a difference. Take it from a well-known pessimist like me. Optimism wins in the end.

On These Two Commandments

 I'm currently taking a New Testament religion class as part of my college curriculum. This class is focused on the Four Gospels and each week we read related chapters and sections of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Sometimes we will read the same parables or moments from Christ's ministry multiple times, as told by different apostles. This week part of our reading included Matthew Chapter 21 and Mark Chapter 12. In both of these records, Christ is asked what the first or great commandment is. In Mark Chapter 12:29 And Jesus answered him, The first of all the commandments is, Hear, O Israel; The Lord our God is one Lord:

30 And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment.

31 And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.

In Matthew 21 the answer is recorded as:

37 Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.

38 This is the first and great commandment.

39 And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

40 On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.

I love the simplicity of this answer. It is so simple and basic, and yet so very profound. Sometimes we may feel like we are asked to do this long list of things and that we are constantly falling short. I love the reminder that everything else goes back to these two basic principles. Love God. Love your neighbor. Let me be the first to say that I really am constantly falling short. I struggle in many ways and this is no different. I often find myself distracted by so many things...things that don't really matter. My relationship with my Heavenly Father could use some work on my end of things. I'm not always kind to people, especially in the way I sometimes think about others or make snap judgments. But somehow, despite all of my weaknesses, these verses of scripture just give me so much HOPE. Hope that I can improve. Hope that I can learn, and grow, and become a better person. I could write a whole book about the ways I need to improve, but this is just so simple. Not always easy, but simple. Love God. Love my neighbor. Just two things to work on, and really the second one falls under the umbrella of the first.

How am I going to do this? One step at a time. First, I want to look at my choices and motivations through a different lens. I can ask myself: How is this showing love to God? or How is it showing love to others? This will allow me to change my focus and to see the things I need to let go of in order to be a better person. If I find myself unable to say that the thing I am doing is showing love for God or others, I can look for a better way and substitute something else that will allow me to love better.

I don't believe that instant change happens very often. But I believe that small changes over time can take us in a totally different direction than we were headed without them. I'm going to try. What about you? How can you show your love for God or others better?

The Power of Words and Why They Matter

    Have you ever had a friend come to you with a problem or an issue that involves another person? I would venture to guess that most people have. It is natural for us to seek comfort in one another when we are going through tough times, and talking about things often helps us feel better and get support when we need it. Being there for each other is such a good thing, especially as we encourage and uplift others. There is nothing quite like a pep talk from someone else to help you feel loved.

    Have you ever found common ground with someone else because they feel the same way as you about something? Isn't it wonderful when you find out that a new friend grew up loving the same TV show or movies you loved as a child? Or that a coworker shares your favorite singer? Or that a neighbor in a new city actually grew up in your home state? We all share commonalities with others around us and those things bring us together. The things we have in common unite us.

    This unity can happen even with things we share that are less positive. How many times do we bond over something we dislike, whether it be a particular food, a shared fear, a celebrity or politician that annoys us, or even, at times, a whole group of people we disagree with? Isn't there comfort in finding someone who is like-minded about things? Don't we feel accepted in our shared rejection of something else?

    Before you stop reading this post, rest assured that I am not here to delve into politics, race relations, or any of those kinds of hot button topics right now. Not to say that those are not important, just that I am not qualified to write about them.

    What I do want to talk about is how we talk about other people and why the way we talk about them matters.

    Imagine a scenario where someone comes to a friend and shares how another person hurt their feelings, or did something that frustrated them. We have all had things like that happen, and most of us have probably vented to someone else about it. Venting helps us process things, and letting someone else hear about our frustrations can give us valuable feedback and helps us feel better. We feel supported as we are listened to and our feelings are validated.

    Now imagine that you get together with that friend at a later date and the topic comes up again. Do you continue to dwell on the thing that person did? Do you vent a little bit more, or if you don't vent more, do you find that your venting has turned into a kind of a judgment about that other person? "(Insert name here) is so mean." or "thinks they know everything" or "is so bossy" or "doesn't do things the way I think they should" and the list goes on. Pretty soon, one incident, or a series of incidents can turn into a group of people thinking negatively about someone else. 

    The thing is, we all have weaknesses. We all do stupid things or make mistakes in how we treat one another. We all end up with our foot in our mouth at some point. Nobody is perfect and we all know that. In the same way that we are not 100% our strengths, we are also not 100% our faults, so why do we choose to focus so much on the faults and forget all the good things about each other? If someone is making a pot of soup and someone else spits in it, the whole pot is ruined. But we are not soup. We are people. We don't have to be ruined by having a weakness or a fault, we are worth more than that.

    I found out a year or so ago that some of my friends had been talking about me behind my back. You might think you know where this is going, but I have to clarify that what I found out was that they had been saying only good things about me behind my back. When I wasn't with them, they were talking about how much they liked me and focusing on my strengths. I am not making any claims towards awesomeness, I was just the recipient of a group of people speaking and thinking well of me. I have weaknesses just like everyone else does, but in this case, the focus was on the better parts of me.

    When we talk about others in negative ways, we become unified in our ability to see the bad in them. On the other hand, when we talk about others in positive ways, we become unified in our ability to see the good in them. Let me repeat that. When we talk about others in positive ways, we become unified in our ability to see the good in them. The words we say matter. The way we talk about other people matters. I wonder what would happen if we all made an effort to swing away from the negative ways we use our words and to speak in positive ways instead. I believe it could change the world. For now, I am going to focus on the ways that it can change me. What will you do with your words?

Backyard Camping and Choices.

I have a love/hate relationship with camping. I love almost everything but I HATE sleeping in a tent. It just isn't my thing. I prefer to sleep in a comfortable bed without the sounds of nature waking me up at an awful hour of the morning. So imagine my surprise when I heard my own mouth say the words, "Maybe we should camp out in the back yard this week." That's right...it was my idea. My husband had the week off of work and it just seemed like the right thing. We checked the weather and made some plans. Everyone wrote down some ideas of things they would like to do during the week. I pictured idyllic family time and magic.

Then, my friends, LIFE happened. First, the weather. The week started off rainy. Sleeping in a tent is bad enough, but having to do it in the rain is a deal-breaker for me. We postponed the start of our camping. We opted for other ways to spend time as a family. A movie night! Oh, the arguments over what we should watch. Eventually, we settled on Captain America and strong-armed the dissenters into going along with the promise that their choices of movies would happen another time. We ate popcorn and candy and despite a rocky start to the evening, enjoyed our movie together. Two of our older boys have jobs, so work schedules made it so time all together as a family was not as effortless as we had planned. Plus I had plans to sew some masks for the family (for future generations that might stumble across this...the year is 2020, man and we are in the middle of a pandemic). 

Tuesday didn't come together much because of general chaos, shopping, work, projects, etc. We did cross off something from our list and T and I made dinner together. After dinner, we watched the second Captain America movie. 

Wednesday morning I woke up with acute pain. Familiar pain. A trip to the urgent care and I was deemed to be suffering the effects of a kidney stone. Not fun. That afternoon I felt a little bit better but not great. We watched Avenger's Age of Ultron for our movie that night. 

Thursday morning was excruciating. Our plans to go waterfall hunting in the area were set aside. I was not in any condition to go. However, by that afternoon I was in less pain so we proceeded to set up camp in the back yard. We watched Captain America Civil War and headed for bed in our tents late that night. Frog song is one of my favorite sounds of summer where I live, but it is very hard to go to sleep when they are singing loudly all around. Eventually, I made it to sleep and managed to stay in the tent most of the night. 

Around 7 a.m. Friday morning, I went into the house and took a nap in my more comfortable bed.
Dalan made breakfast burritos outside and we enjoyed them for lunch. That night we invited a friend for dinner and had tinfoil (aka boy scout) dinners and made apple crisp in the dutch oven. We also toasted some marshmallows. We had planned to watch another movie, but after working all day, our son S was tired and wanted some downtime. The younger kids watched a movie upstairs while the older kids played video games and D and I had a date night watching a couple of episodes of a favorite show. After that, we all tramped through the yard and settled into our tents for the night. 

Saturday was the 4th of July. We made waffles and pancakes for breakfast and enjoyed eating them outside. One of the beautiful and terrible things about back yard camping is the close proximity of the house. It was great to have everything we needed close at hand, but that also meant that screens were calling and our kids just can't seem to resist. There was a constant battle to get them to come back outside. We roasted hot dogs over the fire, had s' mores, and lit a few sparklers. The neighbors shot off some fireworks that we were able to watch and we had our traditional glow stick and disco light show to celebrate the holiday. As we were sitting by the fire, my son K who just graduated from high school said, "You know how we have those videos of just...life, from when we were younger? I would like to make more of those so we can remember what we're all like right now. Because life is pretty amazing right now...which is kind of weird because we're in the middle of a pandemic." That got me to thinking about perspective. Our week did not turn out the way we had planned. Weather, kidney stone, work schedules, screen time, attitudes, and exhaustion all combined to make it a less than ideal week. But despite that, I keep thinking about how nice it was to just sit around the fire and spend time together. And everyone slept outside all three nights. I was sure someone would balk and choose to sleep in the house, but everyone participated. It wasn't the ideal we were hoping for, but it was a pretty fantastic week.

I keep going back to K's talk of how amazing life is right now. 2020 has been a hard year. Sometimes it feels like everything is on fire and there is no escape. But when I stop, slow down, and think about life...I realize just how amazing it really is. I have so much to be grateful for. Friends, family, blessings. Even on the days where I don't want to get up in the morning because the world feels like such an awful place, I can find so much good when I choose to look for it.

I can't fix the world right now. It is too much for any one person to fix. But I can choose to be kind. I can choose to love people with my whole heart. I can choose to look for things to be grateful for and to move past the disappointments. I get to choose how I react. You get to choose. We all have choices. I am going to choose to keep looking for the light, the love, the hope. What are you going to choose?

How will you run your race?

Yesterday was my son Kale's final home meet for Cross Country. The course for this year was different than in previous years, and during the race someone moved some of the flags that marked the path so a group of boys, including Kale, ended up off course. Those boys worked so hard, and Kale and his friend Forrest were able to catch up to and pass all their teammates that had taken the shorter path. Kale was so disappointed that he was not able to medal, but he learned something about himself as he ran his heart out trying.

Kale and the other boys could have given up when they saw how far behind they were, but they didn't. They gave it an extra effort, and continued through to the end. They ran harder than they have ever run in the past, and they found courage in each other as they ran. Kale spent most of the race running next to a kid from another school who had longer legs, and who was wearing spikes. Kale was sure that kid was faster than him, due to those advantages, and there were times he wanted to give up, but he held on and kept going. They crossed the finish line together. He found comfort in running together, and it gave him extra grit to give it his all. His friend Forrest not only ran that extra distance, but he also managed to catch the first group of boys and secure himself a medal. Even though Kale was disappointed that he was not able to medal himself, he had nothing but joy and admiration for his friend's achievement.

I keep thinking that there are life lessons in there. We all find ourselves off course at some time in our lives, sometimes through our own choices, and sometimes because of the choices of others. We get to choose how we will respond to that. Do we quit? Do we slow down because we know we can't possibly win? Or do we put in the extra effort and give it our all? When we are in the middle of challenging circumstances in our lives, do we try to go it alone, or do we look around and find someone to run with? When we see others achieving the things we wish we could, do we choose to be jealous, or do we find joy in their success? Do we cheer each other on? And lastly, when we finish, and maybe not everything turned out quite the way we wanted it to, do we focus on the mistakes, or do we choose to look at what we have achieved, and the encouragement of others that helped get us to the finish line?

My heart ached for Kale as he expressed his disappointment at what had happened. And my heart was also full as he chose to look at the positives, and realized some of his strengths through the experience. While there was sadness, I really feel like this race will be more memorable than all the others, because of the challenge, and the heart of those boys as they rose to meet it. I hope that it will become something they take through their lives, and learn from. I know it is already teaching me.

Rare and Precious

On the way home from school today my eight year old said, "I found a cool rock today. A kid in my class said it was really rare." I asked him to show it to me, so he pulled it out. It was a piece of cement with some plain pebbles embedded in it. I laughed, and my first thought was how gullible he was that he would believe a piece of cement was special.

I set the rock on the table when we got home, but I couldn't stop thinking about it. It suddenly occurred to me that this is one of the fundamental differences between children and adults. Not the gullible part, because there are a lot of gullible adults out there, but rather the way we look at things. A kid looks at a broken piece of cement and sees something wonderful and fascinating; something to keep in their rock collection. An adult sees a broken piece of cement; something that didn't hold up the way it was supposed to; something of no value.

That got me thinking about how fantastic that childlike innocence is, and the way children look at other people vs how we sometimes do as adults. It made me incredibly grateful that my kids don't hold onto every mistake I make as a parent, but they continue to love me and forgive my weaknesses and shortcomings. They keep looking for the good. It also made me think about how forgiving and kind we start out, and what happens that makes us change from seeing people as wonderful and rare, to seeing them as broken pieces of cement. Then it got me wondering; Can we get a little bit of that back? I believe we can. It may not come naturally to us now the way it does to a child, but we can choose. I can choose, and so can you. Look past the differences and find the common ground. Choose kindness. Choose forgiveness. Choose to really look at people and see them. Because even when they might seem to us like a broken piece of cement, every single person is so much more: unique, rare and precious. 

A Light in the Darkness

Every year for as long as I can remember, I have started to sink into a depression sometime during October and stayed that way until April. It took many years before I came to realize that my worst depression every year coincided with the end of daylight savings time and subsided around the return to standard. Add that I live in an area where winters tend towards clouds and rain and it only makes my seasonal blues even more difficult to endure. That isn't to say that I don't appreciate the green and the growth that the rain brings, I just appreciate it less during the dark months of winter.

As I have struggled over the last few months with depression and discouragement, I have found that actively looking for light makes a difference. When I am driving around town, I notice the light in the clouds. I pay attention to sun breaks and try to enjoy them when I can. We have switched to L.E.D. bulbs with a more natural light and installed them in our living room and kitchen. One thing that I have noticed is that I find light more beautiful when it is contrasted by shadow, clouds, or darkness. It has made me appreciate my challenges more. Once I started really paying attention and looking for light, I started to see it everywhere. I stop to catch quick photos of beautiful light when I can, because I want to remember those moments. Sometimes it can be dark and rainy here for days on end, and I need the reminder that the light is going to come back.

Another way I find light is to look for it in others. It may not be physical light, but it often works even better for chasing away the blues. I can see light in a friendly smile, a kind deed, laughter, service and in so many other ways. I'm so thankful for family, friends and others who shine a little light into my life, and who set a positive example for me. In moments that I am not finding any light in others, I am learning to try to make it myself. I can give of myself. I can be kind. I can show compassion. I can be forgiving. I can choose how I respond to people and do it in a more positive way. I can be a light in the darkness.

So give it a try. Even if you don't suffer from seasonal blues. Even if you feel happy all the time. Look for light, and be the light. The world can always use more.

Who Do You Want To Be Remembered As? Be That Person.

We all have traits that define who we are to those around us. Some are positive and some are negative, and the way people perceive us depends on which of those traits they see in us the most, along with their own personal filters of how they view their world.

First impressions, commonalities, prejudices, and likes/dislikes tend to influence how we see each other, and each interaction we have has the potential to reinforce, or to change how someone else feels about us. Unfortunately, positive and negative things do not always carry equal weight. Dozens of positive moments can be undone by a single negative interaction, but the reverse is not usually true. 

Additionally, once a person has made judgments about who they think we are, that impression of us can become pretty solidly cemented in their minds. I have seen this in the way family members that were with me during my growing up years still focus on weaknesses that I overcame long ago and paint me with that brush. Despite the passing of decades and change in me as a person, they are unable to let go of that perception of me. But how they remember me, is not necessarily accurate as to who I am now. That can happen in any relationship and can be caused by distance, drifting apart, misconceptions that we have about others, or the way we choose to view them. A lot of our negative feelings towards others can be overcome if we apply compassion to the lens we are looking at them through. 

For many years I have felt the weight of how temporary so much of life is. One of the few consistent things is change. Relationships evolve. Children grow up. Parents grow old. People move away or just drift apart. Accidents happen, and every day, each of us is that much closer to the end of our lives. When we find ourselves apart from our loved ones, what we have left is a distilled version of them in our minds and our hearts. We take the most important parts of who they were or are to us as we continue on. 

As I have reflected recently on love and on loss, I have been wondering about the kind of person I want to be remembered as. What would friends and family take from their experiences with me if we had to part? We all have shortcomings, and many of us are very aware of our own. But we get to choose daily the way we want to be remembered. While we can't really control how anyone else views us, we can make choices that are aligned with the kind of people we most want to be. 

Those who know me best know that I am a worrier, and somewhat of a pessimist, and while those are both qualities I carry around with me, they are not how I want to be remembered. This is not to say that I want to lie about who I am. But the choices I make shine a light on which aspects of me I am trying to embrace and which I am trying to set aside. I get to decide which parts of me I want to develop, and which to let go of. Of course there are moments of weakness. Times when the negative overcomes the positive things I am trying to nurture. Becoming is a process, and sometimes the changes we make are so small up close that we can't see the extent of them in ourselves until we step back and pay attention to their accumulation over time. For every weakness, there is the potential for strength through diligent effort.

So, how do you want to be remembered? Mean or kind? Lazy or industrious? Pessimist or optimist? Flighty or dependable? Backstabbing or trustworthy? Uninspired or creative? Faithless or loyal? Cold or compassionate?  Make a conscious choice, and do it for more than just the big, public, things. This isn't politics. It isn't about portraying yourself the way you want people to see you. It is about being authentic to who you want most to be. Who you are now is important, but who you WANT to be is more important. Be that person. One choice at a time.

One Hundred and Three Years Ago...

The most influential person in my life was born. Her name was Nora.

She was raised on a farm in Spokane, Washington, and spent at least part of her childhood living and working in the household of another family due to poverty. At the age of twenty, she married a singer named William. They were married under both his legal name and his stage name, and later, after they converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, they were sealed for time and all eternity in the Idaho Falls Temple.

Nora and William (or Bill) loved to explore the surrounding countryside on their motorcycle. When their first child was born, they got a sidecar and kept exploring. In all they had four children. Their youngest was my father.

Their household was a place of music and creativity. Bill played the violin, guitar, mandolin, banjo and ukulele, and Nora played the piano, organ, recorder, melodica and concertina and she sometimes sang along with her husband. She had a low singing voice, while Bill was a high tenor, so he often sang the higher part, while she took the lower. When my father was in high school, Nora decided to pursue her education. Her educational endeavors did not stop with a bachelors degree, and she eventually went on to complete a Masters degree in Psychology along with a degree in Nutrition. During her many years of study, she also painted oil paintings, some of which were sold, and more that were displayed in their home. Bill had a talent for carpentry and made beautiful frames for her paintings, which was another example of their unity as a couple. They collaborated on other projects as well, and they were my best example growing up of what a loving marriage is.

Nora loved language. She studied Japanese as well as Norwegian. She was an avid genealogist, and the latter helped her in tracing Bill's genealogy, much of which was found in books that were only written in Norwegian. I remember her saying "Velbekommen" before meals would start, which was our signal that we could begin eating and translates to "enjoy your meal". She loved travelling and other cultures, and she also loved animals and nature.

Later in life, she had some serious health problems, but I can remember her taking us on walks in the hills around their neighborhood, refusing to let pain keep her down. In some ways she was a stern, tough woman. She was quick with a reminder to sit up straight at the dinner table, and as children, we knew not to mess with her. But I never felt fear of her, and I only felt special and loved when I was around her. Grandma's house was a constant in my childhood, and Grandma's love was something that I never doubted. Her house was my favorite place growing up. It was fire engine red, with crescent moon shutters, and was a place of magic to me. It was full of paintings, musical instruments, books, safety, and love. My family moved every few years in my early childhood, and I never dream of the homes we lived in, but I revisit Grandma's house in my dreams. A couple of weeks ago I got an unexpected opportunity to pass by the house, and even though it is no longer red and the moon shutters are long gone, it still made me tear up to see it, and my mind was flooded with happy memories.

Grandma passed away when I was 14 years old. It is a little bit unbelievable to me that I have had to spend more than 2/3 of my life without her. But when it comes down to it, I have never really been without her. She remains a constant in my life. I think of her frequently. Her examples taught me perseverance, overcoming trials, dedication to my marriage and to my religion, a love for music, for creativity, and the beauties of nature, that it is never too late to learn, and that learning should be a lifelong pursuit. My dream is to be as well rounded and wonderful a person as she was, and to help others feel loved the way she made me feel that I was loved. Even though I have not seen her with my physical eyes for 31 years, I feel her influence in my life daily, and every so often, I dream that I am sitting across from Grandma, just talking to her. I can never remember what we talked about when I wake up, but I always remember the feeling of love, and I like to think that I got to spend a little bit of time with her, despite the separation that her death has brought to us.

I know she was not perfect. Nobody is. She had flaws just like everyone else. But if I can be half the person she was, I think I will be on the right track. 

It's More Than Just a Season

I love the Christmas season. The beautiful lights, the lovely music, the kindness of strangers, generosity and goodwill toward men, a turning of thoughts towards a tiny baby in a stable, and the man He grew to be. I love it. Christmas makes my heart happy.

Christmas Eve has been my favorite day of the year for as long as I can remember. As a child it meant sugar cookie decorating with cousins, a big family gathering, and that feeling of love that always seemed to permeate the air at Grandma Nora's house. As an adult it has been a day to enjoy the company of my siblings, parents and other family members. We have traditions of great food, laughter, music, joy and gifts. To be honest, I have forgotten most of the gifts I received as a child. I remember more the years when I worked hard to earn money to buy small (and frankly pretty lame) gifts for my extended family, or to make gifts for them. Being able to give a gift was always so much better than getting one, and I still feel that way today. I love giving gifts.

Christmas Eve was the pinnacle of every year. And that has not changed. It is still the day I look forward to the most every year. All the music, lights, gifts and other traditions seem to lead up to that day.

Two years ago, the week before Christmas, my kids got sick with the stomach flu. For the first time in over 40 years I didn't spend Christmas Eve with my parents and siblings. We stayed home, and while we went and saw my parents the next week to drop off and pick up gifts, it just wasn't the same. We weren't with everyone together. We missed my favorite tradition of the year. Instead we had a low key Christmas at home with our kids, Lysol and a lot of puke. It was probably my worst Christmas ever.

The next year came and I was even more excited for Christmas having missed it the year before. However, the week before Christmas our kids were sick with something else, and my uncle was being treated for cancer. Since he was immune compromised, we opted to cancel our plans to go home for Christmas. Then my uncle passed away, and I couldn't bring myself to go home for Christmas knowing that his death was what would have made it so we could be there. We spent a quiet Christmas at home, and I wrestled with sadness at the loss of my uncle.

Christmas just didn't seem like it was real without being able to celebrate with family. Over the years, I had put all my Christmas hopes and dreams into that one day, and when it didn't happen, it made the other joys of the season seem dim and dreary.

Last year, I had an opportunity to sing in a quartet at church on Christmas Day. My husband stood on one side of me, and one of my dearest friends on the other, and while we sang, I felt overpowered by clarity and joy. Christmas came into my heart again, and I was able to celebrate in that moment. Yes, I had missed my family celebration the day before, but all the hope and love that are Christmas were still there. It is so much more than the celebrations of one day.

This year, I have been extra reflective about what Christmas means and should mean to me, and I realized that I don't want Christmas to just be a season. Okay, maybe I don't want the cookies, candy and junk food to be a year round thing, and some of the music (Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree-to name just one) can go, but the carols to my King, can stay. The beautiful lights that turn my thoughts towards a star in the heavens can stay.  The feelings of kindness, generosity, HOPE. Those I want to hold on to all year. Lovely moments with family and friends, the giving of heartfelt gifts, the sharing of time, the smiles from strangers, and the love are the things I want to keep.

I hope that someday it will be said of me, as it was said of the fictional Scrooge from Dickens' A Christmas Carol, that I know "how to keep Christmas well", and that I will learn to keep it all year round.

Dreams and Ideas

I was reading my journal and came across this entry from May 10, 2017. I thought I would save it here.
Sometimes my thoughts spiral out of my head, expanding and filling up galaxies of possibilities. Some shoot across a dark sky, lighting their path for a brief moment, and others grow into constellations of plans, ideas, and introspection. I am not sure I will ever have the time, energy, or resources to explore the universe of my own mind, but the potential there is both thrilling, and frightening.
Yet daily, despite worlds and solar systems of thoughts and ideas, I am distilled into wasted moments of mindless nothing. Scrolling through social media, playing monotonous puzzle games, staring at the unfulfilling glow of a screen. The lights in the night sky of my mind are dimmed, ideas-lost or given up on, dreams-unexplored, inspiration-fading.
At the end of my life, what will the sum whole of me be? Will it be wasted potential? Will I have limited myself to one small planet of existence when I have always had endless space at my fingertips?
One moment, I want nothing more than to create, to breathe life and beauty into things. In my mind, there is vision, and once again-potential. Thinking about creativity, whether it be painting, burning, building, writing, or music, there is a thrill, a call, a completeness that I can't find in any other way. A creator is what I long to be. A Builder of Worlds, an Inspirer of Ideas, a Revealer of Visions. That is me at my core; or at least in my dreams.
The awful reality is that most of my time is wasted time. I can't even go a day without wasting the majority of my time. Just thinking about ideas is exhausting. It is so much easier to just give them up. Ideas. Dreams. Plans. Just keep on slogging through life until it is finally over. Sometimes it seems like it isn't the everyday monotony that is torture, but the dreaming of more.
Always, I am dreaming of more, yet I never do anything to pursue who I want to be. That is incredibly sad.
Even now, I can't do these thoughts any justice. I feel-so tired. My eyes and limbs are heavy and want only to sleep, and with sleep comes DREAMS.

It Isn't Disconnecting. It's Reconnecting.

We live in an interesting world. If you would have told me twenty five years ago that someday most people in developed countries would be walking around with computers in our pockets and incredible amounts of information at our fingertips at all times, I would have been very skeptical. And yet, here we are. We are very lucky to have almost instant access to knowledge, answers to questions, music, books, and other entertainment with just a few taps on our screens. I love that I can look up directions on how to fix things around the house, build furniture, cook a five star meal, and so much more. The sharing of knowledge via the Internet is amazing. It is also incredible that I can text a friend while she is on vacation with an ocean between us, and get a response within seconds. These are things that the upcoming generation takes for granted, but I can remember when the idea of things like that seemed like science fiction. I remember watching The Jetsons as a kid, and how cool I thought the video calls were. Now I Skype with my grown up kids. Isn't technology wonderful?

Technology has two sides, of course. Sometimes it sucks us in like a black hole. The relative anonymity of the Internet seems to bring out the worst in people. We have lost our patience and want instant access to everything. Who can possibly wait a week to see the next episode in a favorite show? We just find something we can binge watch all at once. We walk around staring at a screen instead of enjoying the world around us. People have caused their own deaths or the death of others because they didn't have the patience to wait until they aren't driving to read a text. And there are so many other things wrong with the way we treat the technology that we have now.

I find myself reaching for my phone so often, to show someone a picture I took, to look something up, to share a thought. While none of those things in and of themselves are bad, it has become almost ridiculous. Sometimes I feel like I am losing my ability to just connect with someone on a personal level. By connecting to everything electronically, have I actually disconnected myself from others? Yes, there are benefits to being able to stay in touch over miles, and to being able to let someone know you are thinking about them when life is too busy for a phone call or a face to face. But something is wrong when I find myself interacting more with my friends online than I am in person. I am talking about friends that only live a few miles away from me. Still, it is so easy, that I get drawn in, and I let myself communicate via Facebook, or texts, and then I wonder why I miss my friends so much. After all, I am in frequent contact with them. But what it really comes down to, which I blogged about last year, is that you can't substitute a screen for the real thing.

Anyone that knows me in more than a passing way, knows that I spend a lot of time on social media. I waste a lot of time on it. This morning I dropped by a friend's house for a quick (and much needed) visit and she mentioned wanting to scale back the amount of time she spends on Facebook. I have had that thought myself, many times, and that thought kept coming back to me throughout the day. And I need to do more than step back from Facebook, I need to help my kids disconnect from their video games and their TV shows and screen time in general. Then it hit me. Doing that wouldn't be disconnecting. It would be RECONNECTING. How much more would I connect with others if I disconnect from the majority of my screen time? What if I get up and go find someone to talk to when I get lonely instead of staring at a screen, hoping someone will notice me? How would it change the lives of my kids if instead of seeing me at the computer when they came in after school, I was ready and waiting to be accessible to them? What if a movie night for family time became a special and rare occasion instead of the norm? How would disconnecting change me? How would it change my family? How would it change my friendships? I think it's time to find out.
P.S. Yes, I am aware of the mixed signal that writing about this on a blog that demands the use of technology to be read, sends. Baby steps.

Don't Let Comparison Steal Your Joy

I like to paint rocks, among other things. It is a fun hobby that I have tried to share with friends and family members. Painting relaxes me, and I enjoy giving my finished pieces to loved ones, or hiding them around town for others to stumble upon. 

Today I was working on a rock and shared my progress with a friend. She has recently taken up rock painting and made this comment, "I know I will never be as good as you, but I can get better than I am."

My first thought was "Of course she can be as good as me." It pained me to feel like she was comparing herself to me. Then I thought about it some more. In fact, I have been thinking about it all evening. This particular friend has a fabulous singing voice, and has been professionally trained. In the past, I have been guilty of comparing my voice and skill at singing to hers. I love singing. I have a decent voice, but I have not had the practice, or the training that she has, and I am pretty sure that I have less natural talent for singing. When we first became friends, I let her spectacular voice intimidate me, and I found myself having a difficult time singing out when we sat next to each other at church meetings, or in choir. I eventually overcame that tendency, and last Christmas I even sang with her in a quartet. It's true that I can't match her skill, but it was a beautiful experience, and one of the highlights of my year. I am so glad that I didn't let comparison steal my joy in singing. I may never be as good as her at singing, but I can get better than I am. Her beautiful voice has inspired me to try to be better myself.

We all have our own unique talents and skills. Some of them come naturally, and others take a lot of practice and hard work. We also live in a world where comparison runs rampant. Social media in particular makes it easy to compare ourselves to the very best that others are willing to share. I know that I have often been guilty of becoming discouraged when my efforts can't match up to those of others, and that discouragement sometimes makes me give up on trying something new. I want to change that way of thinking, and instead, let the talents and gifts of others inspire me in my own efforts. There will always be someone that is better at anything I try to do, but that doesn't mean I can't find joy in learning, practicing, and developing new skill.

There are many ways that we compare ourselves to others. I know that I tend to have a really difficult time with my physical appearance, and I feel constantly bombarded with the world's idea of beauty. The same is true of my home, and at times I even find myself comparing the behavior of my children to that of others. Today, I hope that we can just stop comparing, and be thankful for what we have.