The Comfort Zone Quest Continues

You might remember that I took up pottery a year or so ago, as one of several efforts to push myself out of my comfort zone.  A year later, pottery (specifically, wheel throwing) has become a part of my new, improved, and expanded comfort zone.  I love it and have done many additional classes.  In fact, I just started a new class, and while I hope to do some wheel throwing when a wheel is available (quite a few aspiring potters in this class, all of whom signed up earlier than I did, so the wheels are all taken, sigh), my focus is on learning hand building techniques.  Not so sure about this, honestly, but I am giving it a try.


The first class was nothing to write home about.  I mean, not disastrous or anything, but let's be clear...I enjoy getting my hands on the clay, but I am no artist.  I have decided to focus on simplicity, and next week I'm going to work on pinch pots, which are kind of the ultimate in clay simplicity.


I have also agreed to be on the play reading committee for the Ocala Civic Theatre, thanks to my friend, Joy, who invited me to join the group. (Ironically, our friendship was solidified by doing a few pottery classes together and even throwing a pottery party together wherein we raised some money for OCT and the Appleton Museum.)  Our second play reading committee meeting is coming up, and I've read six plays so far and have two more sitting on my bedside table waiting for me. I don't know if this qualifies as a challenge to my comfort zone.  I mean, I love to read, and I have loved theatre since being a part of WJ Stage and WST back in high school.  But I still think this qualifies.  I've lived in Ocala for more than 12 years, and other than watch a lot of plays at OCT, I have been my usual reticent self when it comes to getting involved. So, here's to baby steps, and a big thank you to Joy for being the catalyst!

Other recent excursions out of my comfort zone included spending a girls' weekend in Washington, DC with my best friends and attending our 30th high school reunion.  The best part of the weekend was visiting our old high school, finding a door wide open, and spending an hour or so wandering the hallways and remembering our teenage years spent there.  It was a hoot, to say the least.


Probably the furthest out of my comfort zone I've ventured involves my decision several months ago to start working out at Orange Theory Fitness.  I'm completely out of my element, but I'm getting great workouts, strengthening my core, losing a little weight, and shocking myself with what I am able to do.


So, that's about it, other than dabbling in a little meditation.

Why I'm Drawn to LOA...More Questions than Answers, and I Kinda Like That...

I become interested in the Law of Attraction about a year ago. It's a thing a friend of mine has written about, and honestly, if it was anyone but him, I'd probably have paid no attention whatsoever. But knowing James, stuff he's interested in is usually worthwhile in my book, so, I've been reading some of his books on the subject, and I find that aspects of LOA really appeal to me. Not because of what I can get in terms of monetary benefits or stuff, but in terms of better understanding my beliefs and thoughts about God and the universe. I'm also drawn to LOA because it gives me more questions than answers. Grappling IS life, as far as I'm concerned. There are no pat answers, and I don't trust people who tell me there are. There is only the continuing quest to understand and make sense out of things. Life and THE answers are both simpler and more complex than we think. Flip sides--same coin. LOA is full of these sorts of seeming contradictions, and I like that. I can relate.


One of the things I've been thinking about is how LOA jibes up with God and prayer.  I believe in God, and I go to church, and I pray, but I have always been skeptical of treating my faith like I'm trying to win the lottery. I believe in God because I see the beauty and the mystery in the world, the grandness and the simplicity, and I seek to understand, to contribute, to sustain, to share, to love, and to grow as a human trying to live in community with others.


I've always struggled with the concept of prayer. I have never like praying for stuff. It seems sort of wrong...greedy, selfish, missing the point. To me, prayer is more of a pathway for focusing your thoughts and then taking action.

By the same token, just praying, "Thy will be done," while understandable and appropriate at times, is a bit passive for my taste. I get that sometimes we're so desperate, tired, worn down, caught off guard, that we don't have words or fully formed thoughts. Sometimes all we have are groans of despair, images of joy, an overwhelming sense of thanks, the need for comfort. And that's fine, but most of the time, I prefer to pray with a purpose.


My favorite pastor share a couple of things with me about prayer that have stuck with me. One is a short formula or structure that I can fall back on when I just need a basic framework for my daily prayers: 1. praise, 2. forgiveness, 3. thanks, and 4. requests. I believe it's commonly referred to as the ACTS approach, which is an acrostic standing for Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, Supplication. I use this approach a lot, and I find it helpful. It's a little scary how much I like structure and process. I like to think of myself as more laid-back and easy-going, but I'm not so sure how true that is!


The other prayer thing my favorite pastor left me with is the memory of a wonderful sermon where he talked about prayer and encouraged us to "pray big." It gave me a lot of food for thought, and it's this concept of praying big that fits best with LOA for me. This notion that God and the universe are so big, but that every tiny part fits together and is important. It's overwhelming to think about, but we are connected to this awesomeness and to not embrace and accept that is a mistake. We can have an impact, and we will receive back that which we are willing to receive.


Obviously, I ponder prayer a lot. Ultimately, I think it can lead to an increase in faith, acceptance, well-being, engagement. And to being more in touch with what is real, what is important, and what is possible. Being more at peace with who we are and what we are called to do in this world.


Interestingly, this is kind of how LOA strikes me too. I learned about LOA at a time when I was feeling low and kind of disconnected from life and the world around me. I was deep in comfort mode and very much limiting my world to immediate family and friends. Purposely isolating myself, which for a time is probably exactly what I needed, but which for an extended period is probably not so healthy.


I have been able to use LOA as a means to rethink my beliefs and reconnect with the outside world. I've felt so empowered and energized. Formulating intentions, letting them go, and seeing them manifest. LOA makes sense in my worldview because it is focused on energy and connection. If you're putting out positive stuff, positive stuff will come back to you, and you have enhanced control, understanding, and well-being. When you're entrenched in negativity, the same is returned to you.


So much is within your own power and perception, your self-awareness. Do you know what you want? Are you motivated to accept it? Stay present, and recognize that you are totally in control of what you want for yourself. Now, let it go, trust, and have faith. It may come to you in unexpected ways and forms, but it will come.

14 Days of Helping

A little more than two weeks ago, I accepted a challenge on my new favorite Facebook page: Life, Experimentally.


"The challenge is to help one person a day with something that you normally wouldn’t help with. For example, if you already routinely help your co-worker with something, that doesn’t count. It must be a different person each day, and a different thing that you do to help. This experiment lasts for 14 days. So by the end of the experiment you and I will have helped at least 14 different people in 14 different ways. 
So why is this a good idea?

• Helping others makes us happy ourselves
• It helps to give us a sense of purpose and satisfaction
• It helps to encourage altruism in others
• It promotes positive behavior in young people
• It helps build new or stronger friendships


These are but a few of the countless reasons why this could be a good idea.

The real question is: What type of an impact it will have in your life? To find out, join us in this 14 day experiment, and share your experiences."


I've been in this mode of trying to challenge myself--push myself out of my comfort zone a little--with the goal of reenergizing myself, gaining some insight, expanding my horizons, etc.


I'm not one to dive headfirst into huge changes...I'm a baby steps kind of a gal. So, the Life, Experimentally approach is really working for me. Do a little experiment...see what happens...others will be doing it with you...it's not scary...go for it...why not?!


So, here's what has happened on my 14-day helping journey:


Nothing earth-shattering has happened! But it has been gratifying and nice. Not sure I'm too far out of my comfort zone with this one. Probably because of how I have approached it. I didn't try to seek out big helping activities each day. Rather, I stayed mindful of what I was trying to do, and it was amazing how little opportunities presented themselves to me. Sometimes things that I might have absolutely done anyway, but I realized that all too often, I have been missing opportunities to help others, primarily because I'm not paying attention.


Also, I said "yes," a lot. Again, I wasn't great about seeking out big, mind blowing opportunities to help that might make the evening news or something. But I was really good about paying attention, taking opportunities that presented themselves to me, and saying yes when people specifically asked for help or opened the door.


I've decided to continue on this helping journey for at least 30 days, as I don't feel like it's time to stop. I think there is more for me to learn. I also think that there are some aspects of this experiment that I will be able to incorporate into my every day life. Just to be more mindful that there are opportunities everywhere, and that most of them don't require a huge amount of time or immense effort, though some things do require a significant commitment to do what you said you would do.


Looking back, most of what I did were small things like bringing food to my office on our first day back after Hurricane Irma, donating money to a couple of worthy causes, holding doors and helping strangers carry heavy objects. I also did and am continuing to do a lot of writing and book-related things (shows what I'm really mindful of!), like nominating a wonderful teacher for a very deserved award, helping a colleague by providing a letter of reference, writing a guest blog and providing other writing/editing assistance for a friend, and helping to promote a new author's first book by posting reviews and sharing my recommendation in a variety of locations. The other theme was sort of church-related, like supporting my favorite pastor who did a mini on-line service for anyone who wanted to tune in during Hurricane Irma, making dinner for an elderly gentleman from church who needs some help right now, and visiting a sick friend who's been in the hospital.


So, this reinforced what I already knew.  Little things are the big things.  And when you give, it's you who gain the most. 


The day that I brought soup to my elderly church friend, I was so tired. I had gotten up at 4:30am to take my husband to the hospital for out-patient shoulder surgery, then returned home to get my kids out the door to school, then back to the hospital to wait around until I could bring Mark home, then home to do the nurse thing at some acceptable level. I wondered a couple of times if maybe I should have signed up for dinner making and delivery on a different day, but I was committed. 

And here's the thing.  Because I had committed to doing it, I had a plan.  I had the fixings for my favorite comfort food, potato soup, and I spent the afternoon making it once we returned home from the hospital and I had Mark settled in.  It was actually comforting to go through the familiar process of cutting up the vegetables and adding the broth and mixing in the other ingredients.  My house smelled lovely, and I made plenty so that I could feed and comfort own family as well as my sweet church friend.


Then I made the delivery, and it turned out to be a nice opportunity to be alone with my thoughts as I drove. And the recipient of the soup is truly one of the kindest people you could ever meet. Seeing his smile and spending some time talking to him absolutely lifted me up. I cried on the drive home. Happy tears. Because that is what loving and connecting with people does for you. And that is what helping is all about.

So, the helping experiment is not over.  Not by a long shot.

Pottery...Wheel Throwing...WAY Harder than It Looks...And It Looks Pretty Hard!

My six-week pottery challenge began today!  A week late, thanks to Hurricane Irma.  The first thing I learned...we call it "wheel throwing" not pottery.  Duly noted. 

One of the most fun parts about learning new things (at least to my inner linguist) is learning the new language that goes along with it.  The least fun thing (to my inner-outer-everywhere introvert) is walking in the door and getting started.

I was fortunate today, in that I had a ton of encouragement to embark upon this new challenge.  First, I told all of you I was going to do it, and I've received so much encouragement. Second, my sweet son, Ben, has a drawing class that he is doing in the same place at the same time. Ben is definitely the artist in our family, and he was so sweet driving over:

"Are you nervous, Mom?"

"Yes, honey, I am a little nervous."

"Don't worry, Mom, everyone's a little nervous at first, but you'll be fine! What are your nervous about?"

"I think I won't be very good at this. But mostly, I'm just nervous because it's something new, and I don't know anyone.  I'm really glad you're going with me."

Finally, a very patient friend of mine has been there behind the scenes to receive my ridiculous texts and reassure me...

"OMG! I just spent the last 10 minutes frantically searching my house for the pants that I have officially designated my pottery pants. Who loses pants?! Finally found them hanging in the closet where they belong. What is wrong with me?! Thank God you can only go to your first pottery class once.  Basket Case, signing off."

"Go! You will do fine!"

So, off I went. And all I can say...Oh. My. God. So. Hard. But also...Amazing!

First, you are presented with a rather hefty square of clay. It smells funny but is quite lovely. Then, you must use this weird cheese cutter thingy to slice manageable bits of clay from the giant chunk.

Then, the most fun part (well, for me on Day 1, anyway). You knead the clay (yes, kind of like bread dough, but there is no yeast involved, so less pressure), and then you do this cool thing called wedging. Basically, you are preparing your clay for the wheel. You want to disperse the water in the clay more uniformly throughout and make sure you don't have any air bubbles. You wind up with a nice, smooth, round ball of clay, which you then get to throw down onto the center of your wheel.

Then the really hard part begins...

Centering your clay...I am pretty sure this is impossible...I mean, in theory, sure. The clay is stuck nicely to the center of your wheel, and it doesn't make you seasick to look at when you press down on the foot pedal that makes your wheel spin. Probably the best advice I got today..."Don't look at it!  I mean, look at it, but don't look at it!" This is because it's completely mesmerizing, and alternatively, infuriating. Just when you are becoming one with your beautiful clay and wheel...it all goes wonky, and your head starts spinning.  Also (and this is my own advice, nothing I heard today), don't drink and wheel throw. Trust me on this. There are enough things spinning in a wheel throwing class without adding your head into the mix.

After you center your clay (or in my case, after your awesome instructor, Cheyenne, centers your clay for you), you try to dome your clay, which is basically just forming it up into kind of a dome thingy. This doesn't sound hard, but trust me, it is.  The irony is that once you get it up into that dome, you gently and elegantly smush it back down into what's called a puck (I think, or possibly, a pug). Then you make your puck into a doughnut. Sadly, this doughnut is made out of clay not actual doughnut material, and ours didn't even have a hole that went all the way through. Rather, we were trying to use our thumb to kind of flatten out the bottom of our clay thingy and get the bottom of it to be even and at a mostly 90 degree angle from the wheel.

Once you sort of do that, you use your fingers--left finger inside, right finger outside--hold them together and start to form the clay up into a column. This is very hard to do. And I learned some great new wheel throwing terminology...

"You're chasing the wheel!"  (You're not supposed to do that.  You're supposed to keep your hands/fingers in basically the same place and kind of anchored to your body for stability. Let the clay come to you...don't chase it...)

"Looks like that clay is working you...you're supposed to be working the clay!"

And so it went. The others in the class had all had some wheel throwing experience prior to this class. I was the only brand newbie. But everyone was so nice and so encouraging. And, although I really sucked at making anything remotely attractive or worth keeping, I thoroughly enjoyed getting my hands (and clothes, and face, and hair) dirty, and it was a true pleasure to start to get the feel for the clay and the wheel. I'm starting to sense what my hands and feet need to do to make this thing happen. You'll notice, I said nothing about my brain. I need my brain to get out of my way. This is about touch and sensation and intuition. And I have faith that I'm going to get there.

The Blues

I went to bed last night feeling a little melancholy...a little blue...and I woke up this morning with a song in my head...


Irving Berlin's "What'll I Do?"


I'm pretty sure it's impossible not to know this song. Berlin wrote it in 1923, and it was first performed in 1924.  Since then, virtually everyone, from Judy Garland to Bob Dylan, has done a version of it.


It's a song that is deceptively simple. A few words and the repetition of a lovely melody. But turns out...it's everything. Everyone you've ever loved. Every time you've ever lost. Everything you've ever longed for. In one little song.

And here's the thing about the blues. You're going to get 'em sometimes. It's an inevitable part of the human condition.


The question is...what are you going to do with them?


I love this song because it poses the question, but never actually provides an answer. You get to hear the words, let the melody wash over you, feel the sadness, and take it from there.


At the same time, you can't help but realize...you are not alone. Everyone has sung this song exactly because everyone has felt this way.


And so, while you may need to allow yourself to be blue for a while...at some point, you've also got to ask yourself...what are you going to do?


When I get the blues, I listen to some sad songs...and then I start singing along...I take a little time to comfort myself...then I get up and get going again.


The temptation for me is to retreat to my comfort zone and never leave. But I've realized that is not the answer. Even if it's just baby steps, you've got to keep taking risks, trying new things, pushing yourself beyond the safe and the familiar.


(Please know that none of the above is intended to address the psychological condition of depression...that is far beyond my capacity...and I hope that nothing I have written in any way minimizes those who are struggling. I'm just talking about the blues, and if what you are dealing with is more than that, please reach out, know that you are loved, and there is help for you.)

Hurricane Irma a/k/a NOT the Push Out of My Comfort Zone I was Looking For...

Since I started thinking about venturing beyond the comfort zone, my focus has been on taking intentional steps--deciding what and when, where and for how long--baby steps, experiments, dipping my toes in the water or possibly wading just a little bit.  This approach has been my chosen approach exactly because it is by nature comfortable. This? I can do this! It's temporary. If I hate it, I can quickly retreat. No problem.




Then Hurricane Irma came along to remind me...sometimes, we get thrust rudely out of our comfort zones and are reminded that we are powerless in so many ways. Not a great feeling, I must say.


I've alternated between feeling really calm and being on the verge of panic (inability to breathe and all that entails).

The preparation you go through in anticipation of a hurricane is partially practical, but mostly just to make yourself feel better. Surround yourself with enough food, water, flashlights, batteries, candles, etc., and you can almost convince yourself that you're "ready."


But, here's the thing. Mother Nature is more powerful than all the banana bread in the world. Which, while awesome in the truest sense of the word, is hardly comforting. No wonder I've been doing so much baking. I will comfort myself and my family. Mother Nature be damned.


I'm not sure what all of this is teaching me. Nothing I really wanted to know, that's certain.


But a few positives:


1) Objectively, we are in a reasonably safe location and are reasonably well-prepared. We may lose power, we may have some flooding, but in all likelihood, we will survive, relatively unscathed. (All of this has turned out to be true. It is sobering, however, to walk and drive around and see all the damage. So many have lost so much.)


2) We have loving family and friends. So many people have checked on us, offered to help, held us in their thoughts and prayers, and just showed us so much love and encouragement.


3) We have each other, and there is so much joy and comfort in that. I love my family and my home.


4) I am learning more about my comfort zone, my power and control (and lack thereof). I am being challenged, and so far, I'm up for it.


5) I'm essentially an introvert. So, being stuck at home in my PJs with my favorite people in the world, my books, some comfort food, candles, and wine is just fine with me.


Thanks for all of the support, and here's to those out there on the front lines! I'm so grateful!

When All Else Fails...Make Banana Bread

So, getting out of your comfort zone is uncomfortable. And I think it's unreasonable to think that you can just stay in the uncomfortable zone constantly. If you don't give yourself a break occasionally, you might just give up, snuggle up in your favorite chair with a good book, and not try anything new for years!

For those moments when you feel the need to comfort yourself and re-energize for your next excursion beyond your comfort zone, I suggest banana bread. I mean, who doesn't have a couple of overly ripe bananas laying around most days?  Just throw them in a bowl and squish them up.

Then, add melted butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla, baking soda, salt, and flour. Mix gently. Also mix together some sugar and cinnamon.  Put part of the batter in the bread pan, sprinkle some of the oh-so-comforting cinnamon and sugar mix on top, then add the rest of the batter, and then the last of the cinnamon and sugar on top. Throw it in the oven for 45 minutes or so...

Voila!

Eat while it's still warm from the oven. Mmmmm...

There. Don't you feel better? Now get up, get out there, and do something new! Report back here for input and encouragement!

(Here's the recipe if you want it...it's a good one...throw in some chocolate chips if you're feeling the need for extra comfort!)

Adventures Beyond My Comfort Zone...

For several years, I had foolishly convinced myself that always sticking with the known, the familiar, the comfortable--my beloved routines--was a function of my somewhat introverted nature and my seemingly innate desire to live a simple life. 


And while there is nothing wrong with routines or with living simply, these things should not be confused with living fully. To do that, you've got to get out of your comfort zone. Trying new things allows you to discover different aspects of yourself, and having this curiosity and courage is vital.


I had so filled my live with everything that was familiar and routine, I forgot to leave space for the unexpected, growth, challenging and thinking deeply about my beliefs, hope, possibility, wonder.  And ultimately, developing and strengthening my faith.


I was placidly living my life, thinking I had it all figured out.


Amazing how something comes along to rock your world every time.


Most recently for me was my dismay over the number of people who voted for our current president, who is a malignant narcissist and represents the opposite of every value I possess.


As I emerge from my depression, I am recognizing that having your world view challenged is actually a good thing. I've been asking myself some difficult questions and realizing that, if my faith is so easily shattered, I have some work to do. But it's not meant to be easy, right?


Some of what I've been doing is connecting with different people and reconnecting with familiar people in new ways. I'm becoming a bit more outspoken about my views and more willing to share my fundamental beliefs, as well as emerging ones that are still developing.


For the foreseeable future, I'm resurrecting my blog to share and reflect upon my journey out of my comfort zone, and I hope you will tag along. Maybe share some of your own ideas and experiences (I'm always open to guest bloggers!). I also received some recent feedback that my previous blogs were a little dark, so I'm also hoping to lighten things up a bit!


So far, my first steps have been small ones...participating in a protest march...going out to dinner alone...planning my own birthday celebration...setting up some friends on a blind date...becoming a member of our local art museum...sipping a little moonshine...


I could go on, but becoming a member at the Appleton is where I'm focused currently. The extent of my artistic ability includes writing and singing. That's it. I love art, I appreciate art, but I have no ability when it comes to drawing, painting, etc.


My youngest son, however, is a budding artist. He went to several art camps this summer, and when I was looking at the offerings for the fall, I noticed my new favorite museum also has opportunities for adults. So, on a whim, I signed myself up for a pottery class, which meets at the same time that Ben will be taking his drawing/painting class.


I'm pretty terrified that, given my lack of artistic ability and general klutziness, it is going to go something like this...

Nonetheless, I shall persevere...stay tuned!

Connections and Kindness

I recently saw a post on Facebook of a friend visiting her parents' grave. She's from WV and knew my family when we lived there, and it crossed my mind to ask her if she would send me a photo of my mom's grave.

I pretty much immediately banished the thought from my mind. Quickly realizing that I shouldn't ask her to substitute my grief for her own. At least not at that moment in time, when she was clearly focused on honoring her own parents. I can be self-centered, and I'm on a quest to recognize, interrupt, and become more in tune to the needs of others. So, I put the thought aside and made a mental note to maybe ask her about it at a later, more appropriate time.

The next day, she sent me this photo. To say I was overwhelmed is to say the least. Apparently, she has never had the same struggle with selfishness that I have battled. Without my ever saying a word, she thought of me and knew that I would probably appreciate a photo. And I did. And still do.

I've only ever visited my mother's grave twice. 

The first time shortly after her death. A teenage girl desperate with grief and no idea what to do with my overwhelming emotions. I lay on her grave, wept, and prayed for the ground she was buried in to swallow me up as well.

Then again years later when I took my husband to see her gravesite. A young adult embarking on marriage and motherhood. Overwhelmed by everything she and my children would never have. She would have loved being a grandmother. And they would have loved her.

Today, I have lived more than 30 years without her. I am older now than she was when she died. The scar on my face is a daily reminder of the tragic accident that took her life and changed mine forever.

The only wisdom I have are the same old clichés. Life is joy and pain. Fear, failure, regret. Courage, triumph, hope. Realizing that the little things are the big things. Appreciating the daily routines that seem unchanging but will not last forever. Not being afraid to try new things and take some chances. Don't stop until you have to. Life is short. Make the most of it...

A Child in Aleppo, a Child in Scarsdale, and Ruth

Like so many, I've been haunted by this child, injured in the fighting in war torn Aleppo, Syria.

The sweetness of the six-year-old boy from New York, who wrote this letter to President Obama has also had such an impact on me. Especially the line where he says, "We will give him a family and he will be our brother."

One of my favorite passages in the Bible is from the book of Ruth, and somehow the cadence of the words and the sentiment expressed by this child continue to remind me of the lines that Ruth says to her mother-in-law that are also hauntingly simple and completely lovely.

Perhaps it is also the fact that these children, like Ruth and Naomi, are not connected by blood or country or religion or ethnicity. Just humanity and love.

Do I Stay or Do I Go?

The saga continues. Not wanting to just disappear, I met with my pastor, and ended up having an awesome conversation. As always, I am reminded that the world does not revolve around me. There are so many things that are so much bigger and more important, and I always appreciate the perspective. This meeting, of course, also allowed me to connect with another human being in a very real way, and now, I'd like to go back and eat a few of my previous words spoken in haste and the heat of the moment. He is truly called to the ministry and is facing his own struggles and challenges, yet he put that aside to listen and support me and was willing to be so open with me. What a gift.

But the truth still remains...to paraphrase John Pavlovitz (a really interesting pastor who I enjoy following on Facebook)...I'm feeling a bit like an outcast in my own skin.

The current church no longer fits, and I'm exceedingly anxious about trying on a new one. What do I owe to the church family who welcomed me back to the church? What do I owe to my growing recognition that my views don't fit and aren't really nurtured here? Do I speak and try to change things, or do I move on to a place that is more in line with my beliefs and values? How do I best serve God?

So I'm in limbo. A time of discernment. Wishing I was just quietly following my familiar routine. Realizing it had become a rut.

Leaving with Integrity

I am usually the type to become quieter and quieter, more and more withdrawn. It's like I wish I could just disappear.

However, this time, painful as it may be, I'd like to try to do things a better way. 

Part of my nature is to be quiet and contemplative, especially when I'm troubled or faced with a major decision. I don't really gossip, though I may reach out for advice and guidance to a trusted few.

Now that it is clear to me that God is leading me in a new direction, I need to tell those who are important to me, and to whom I am important, that I am going. And I'm praying for the right words. The right time. 

So that I can be honest without resorting to gossip or cruelty. 

Clear without reducing this decision to game-playing. 

Resolute so that they can understand this was not a decision made lightly but only after much prayer, thought, and heartache.

Kind so they know my love for them is not diminished.

And then I will need courage to take the next steps. I am such a creature of habit. I love my routines, the knowing, the sameness. Adventures terrify me. It would be easier to stay, yet at the same time, impossible. This place is no longer my place.

In Search of a Progressive Church

I've been attending the same church for years, and I'm attached to the people, especially my choir friends, but more and more I am realizing that it is not the best fit for me.  While I love a traditional service and hymns, I am progressive in my views, and more and more I feel the need to be engaging with others who feel similarly.

Today, the pastor talked about immorality, and he used Terrance McNally's play, Corpus Christi as an example of immorality in this country, and the congregation was gasping and shaking its head right along with him.  I was the only one sitting there cringing and contemplating leaving.

I'm not even that familiar with the play, but I am so grateful to live in a country with our Constitution, and I am a huge fan of the 1st Amendment ("Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.").  Sitting in church this morning, I was struck by the irony...the same amendment that allows us to gather together and worship in the church of our choice also protects Terrance McNally and his play and those who choose to actually watch it before condemning it.  God, this is a great country!

And more than the idiotic use of this play as an example of immorality, I was struck by all the much more disturbing examples of immorality that could have been mentioned but were not.  For example, early in the sermon, the pastor gave a lengthy list of the vast quantities of junk food that are consumed in this country each day; however, he failed to mention the number of children living in poverty in the U.S. (15 million, which is 21% of all U.S. children), the number of people who die of starvation every day in this world (21,000, the majority of them children), or the number of children living in war torn countries (more than 1 in 10 children), while we blithely go about our business.  Now THAT is fucking immoral.

I have a hard time believing Jesus is too worried about Terrance McNally's play, as I am certain He is far too busy weeping over all of those poor, hungry, injured, and terrified children.  But that's just my opinion.  It is also my opinion that the reason so many people are so irritated with "Christianity" is because far too many so-called Christians are more interested in judging others than in actually following the example of Jesus Christ.  From what I can tell, He was interested in healing the sick, feeding the hungry, comforting children, and loving and accepting the marginalized.

Yay, God!  Sign me up.

Life lessons learned from watching Phineas and Ferb

A few years ago, Jack and Sam attended the Discovery Center summer camp together, and their favorite counselor called them Phineas and Ferb. I didn't realize at the time how appropriate that was. 

Fast forward a few years, and Ben has discovered Phineas and Ferb on Netflix. It has dawned on me that the premise of the show is two brothers figuring out the most fun ways to spend summer vacation.

(My most favorite character on the show is Isabella, and I've taken to saying, "Whatcha doin'?" in the same sweet little sing-song voice she uses. It's completely adorable.)

The life lesson that recently occurred to me was compliments of Candace, Phineas and Ferb's older sister, who spends so much time being irritated by her brothers that she misses out on multitude opportunities for enjoying her own life.

Like so many of us, she often gets caught up in her own petty jealousies and is so focused on what she thinks she need to prove that she fails to see her own talents and gifts and joys and misses countless opportunities to live and appreciate her own life, whether it be her awesome singing ability or the boy she has a crush on who actually likes her back.

So, my observations for the day...you can learn all sorts of lessons if you pay attention...even from Phineas and Ferb.  Also, life is short. Stop wasting your energy being annoyed by and feeling  critical of others. Focus on your own situation and what you have to offer the world, however simple and small.

The Three Revisited a Year or so Later

I kicked off this blog a year and a half ago by talking about three small things I did that ended up being big things:  I returned to Weight Watchers, I returned to church, and I returned to the public library.

I am less regular about attending WW and have gained back some of the weight I lost, but I am still making better choices about what I eat and I still exercise regularly.  More importantly, I like myself more than I ever have.  I dress my body better.  I am more comfortable in my skin.  I love myself more and am much kinder to myself.  My focus is more on health and well-being and less on a particular number on the scale or a smaller dress size.  That said, I still grapple with self-control and struggle to understand why I sometimes fall back into my old bad habits.  The good news...I rarely beat myself up anymore and am more able to take the long view.  Life is short, and I am ok.

The news on the faith front is better.  I still love attending church regularly, and I absolutely adore singing with our little church choir.  My choir friends have become some of my closest friends.  We gather every Tuesday for practice, and the joyful music and laughter we share is always a highlight of the week.  We gather again on Sundays, and the noise we make is truly joyful.  The church said good-bye to a beloved pastor and welcomed a new one who has already endeared himself to us with his sincere faith and hilarious sense of humor.  I've transitioned from the Board of Trustees to the Staff Parish Committee and am appreciative of these opportunities to serve.

Finally, I am still a library and book addict.  I read at least a book a week, and I track them faithfully on Goodreads together with a little blurb/review designed to trigger my memory of what I read.  This has also served to connect me with other readers/book lovers, and I enjoy sharing ideas for what to read next.  So many books...so little times.  If I could read 100 books per year for the next 50 years, that's only 5,000 more books.  So I choose wisely, track religiously, and enjoy completely.

In addition to continuing with my fundamentals, I've set a few goals for the new year:

1. Striving to keep my work in balance with my real life.  I love my current job, but it is stressful and would overwhelm me if I allowed it to do so.  My main focus is to stay positive, to develop my servant-leadership approach, and to replace angry and overly critical rants with time for reflection and a focus on all that I have to be grateful for.  I am also blessed to have found another possible avenue to explore, as I recently interviewed for an adjunct professor teaching position at our local college and am in the process now of completing the required hiring packet and looking forward to the possibility of teaching my first college course this summer.

2. By starting this blog, I wanted to develop my commitment to writing.  I began with great enthusiasm, only to write fewer and fewer blogs as the year progressed.  I dabbled in ghost-writing and quickly determined it wasn't my thing.  I have been most faithful in keeping up with my mini-reviews of the books I read, but even these are rarely in depth.  So, I have committed to something small for 2016--writing at least one blog per month.  I can do that.  Sometimes I wonder if I set the bar too low for myself, but in truth, small commitments seem to be the only ones I can keep long-term, and although they are modest goals, the benefits seem to be immeasurably large and rewarding in unforeseen ways.  So, I'm good with this, and we'll see how it goes.  I think pressuring myself less about writing may end up freeing me to do more of it.

3. I do want to regain and then maintain a healthier weight, and I am doing so by recommitting to tracking my food, exercising regularly, and returning to my weekly WW meetings.  The only things that have ever worked for me!  I would also like to incorporate some weight training and yoga into my exercise routine.  Right now, I just walk/run around the neighborhood, which is great for my cardio health, but I'm not getting any younger and I think the benefits of strengthening my muscles and improving my flexibility will help me feel better.  I've been having a lot of muscle spasms and lower back pain, which is my body's way of telling me, I need to take better care of all aspects of myself.  The back injury I suffered as a thirteen-year-old is finally catching up with my 45-year-old self, and it's important to me that I manage this and don't end up with serious issues as I age.

My number one goal always is maintaining a good balance in my life.  My husband and children are the greatest joys in my life, and I find I appreciate and enjoy them more and more.  Life is far too short, and I want to look back knowing that I made the most of it and especially of them.  They are my heart and soul and absolute joy.  I do worry and nag at times, but I more often focus on staying connected with them in positive ways and being open to enjoying each of their unique personalities as they develop and grow into the most awesome people I know.

The biggest sadness of the last years has been watching my sweet dad decline, but I am fortunate to have the means to travel to visit him regularly and to have been able to include my boys in the last years of his life.  He barely speaks now but he still smiles and responds to warmth that is shown to him.  He needs great assistance to move and walk, but he still enjoys food and has even been able to express appreciation for those who provide his daily care.  As painful as it can be, it would be much more painful to have declined to participate.

So, the state of the world is pretty darn good from my perspective.  Here's to a love-filled 2016!

Prayer

I've been thinking about this post for a long time. Or maybe putting it off might be more accurate. 

Prayer is such a personal thing. And something I have never begun to understand. Other than the above quote, which somehow makes sense to me, I'm not sure what I think about prayer. Which is probably why I've never done bedtime prayers with my kids and little more than the annual Thanksgiving prayer-ish thing of going around and saying what you are thankful for before digging into a meal.

I was taken aback a few months ago when a well-meaning church friend approached me about my youngest son's lack of knowledge about prayer. The other children were shocked, apparently. I didn't worry too much. I already know I'm no supermom and have a somewhat unconventional approach to the whole parenting thing, based in humor, individual choice, respect, and incessant nagging through which I am working out my own insecurities and perceived failures.

Which brings me back to my recent thoughts about prayer. What is it? How are you supposed to do it? Do you ask for stuff and consider your prayers answered if you get what you ordered?

Is it way more complicated than that? Or way simpler? Is it, "Thy will be done"? Is it not being afraid to pray big and having confidence you'll receive the needed (demanded) answer? Is it just being silent and listening? Is it fear in times of desperation? Groaning? Anger? Thanks in times of joy? Awe in moments of overwhelming beauty?

Is it formal or informal? Is it something you set aside time for or something purely spontaneous? All of the above? Or none of it?

And is it any wonder I have no confidence in my ability to impart any sort of wisdom or guidance to my children in this area?

I do it. Often. When I need to be reminded of my place in the world. That I am a tiny speck in the universe, yet God is familiar with every hair on my head and mindful of the fall of the sparrow. When I need to remember that I am not all-knowing or all-powerful. That I am not in charge. When I am overwhelmed by grace. When I am grateful for something simple and small that contains everything that matters. When I am trying to find my way in the dark yet am certain I am not alone. When I need guidance and the strength to act.

Prayer is so very personal. A mystery. I would have no idea how to have that conversation with my kids. I can't reduce it to, "Now I lay me down to sleep..." or "God is great and God is good..." or even the Lord's Prayer or the Hail, Mary that my sweet mom taught to me when I was a little girl.

I think the best I can do is wonder aloud and be open to discussion. Willing to share. Willing to listen. Ponder and reconsider. That's all I've got.

*9/1/2017: came across this quote from Frederick Boechner. Liked it...

Not for the Wise

 

I AM AFRAID THAT prayer is really not for the wise. The wise avoid it on two bases, at least two. In the first place, if there really is a God who has this power to heal, to make whole, then it is wise to be very cautious indeed because if you go to him for healing, healing may be exactly what you will receive, and are you entirely sure that you want to be healed? By all accounts, after all, the process is not necessarily either quick or easy. And in the meanwhile, things could be a great deal worse. "Lord, take my sin from me—but not yet," Saint Augustine is said to have prayed. It is a wise man who bewares of God bearing gifts. In the second place, the wise look at twentieth-century man—civilized, rational, and at great cost emancipated from the dark superstitions of the past—and suggest that to petition some unseen power for special favors is a very childish procedure indeed. 

 

In a way, "childish" is the very word to describe it. A child has not made up his mind yet about what is and what is not possible. He has no fixed preconceptions about what reality is; and if someone tells him that the mossy place under the lilac bush is a magic place, he may wait until he thinks that no one is watching him, but then he will very probably crawl in under the lilac bush to see for himself. A child also knows how to accept a gift. He does not worry about losing his dignity or becoming indebted if he accepts it. His conscience does not bother him because the gift is free and he has not earned it and therefore really has no right to it. He just takes it, with joy. In fact, if it is something that he wants very much, he may even ask for it. And lastly, a child knows how to trust. It is late at night and very dark and there is the sound of sirens as his father wakes him. He does not explain anything but just takes him by the hand and gets him up, and the child is scared out of his wits and has no idea what is going on, but he takes his father's hand anyway and lets his father lead him wherever he chooses into the darkness. 

 

In honesty you have to admit to a wise man that prayer is not for the wise, not for the prudent, not for the sophisticated. Instead it is for those who recognize that in face of their deepest needs, all their wisdom is quite helpless. It is for those who are willing to persist in doing something that is both childish and crucial. 

 

- Originally published in The Magnificent Defeat

Memes by Me

Thanks to Justin Townes Earle for these words from his song, Mama's Eyes.

Thanks to Connie Schultz for this awesome picture of her mom.

My friend, David Carter...

My Benjamin.

Jack.

Ben again.

SAMMER!!!

Jack in the Greenbrier River...photo credit to Mark Burnette.

Opposites Attract

Mark and I have the same fundamentals, which are the foundation of our marriage. Family, kids, political views. And we've come together in other areas over the years--he reads more now; I now enjoy watching baseball. But some of our details are polar opposites, and that can be fun, if baffling at times.

The most recent thing I was pondering was food. He's a meat eater. I could easily be a vegetarian. He likes sweets for breakfast. If I eat breakfast, I like cereal or oatmeal. Which leads to...I must drink coffee in the morning...he never touches the stuff. 

And then, last night. He made a batch of chocolate chip cookies, but I'm the one who ate them. Because, hello, fresh, hot out of the oven, late at night cookie eating is my definition of heaven. He didn't eat any, saying, "Those are for you and the kids...if there are any left, I'll have them for breakfast."

I can't claim to understand him all the time, but I sure do love him.

Really?!

So.  Crystal Blue Persuasion is a song about Jesus, but One Toe (ok, Toke) Over the Line, Sweet Jesus, is about drugs?  Really?!  I am 44 years old, and I've been confused all of these years, apparently.

Ghostwriting and Bacon...

Here is a random, light-hearted blog about bacon. "Why bacon?" you may ask. Well, I have long wanted to be a "real" writer, and I have somehow bought into this notion that you can't call yourself a writer unless you have actually published and been paid for your work. Which is completely stupid...yet, there it is.

So, recently, I heard about this interesting website called BlogMutt. The process for writing for them is pretty simple, so I signed up and am giving it a try. In my first week, I submitted two blogs (you are basically a ghostwriter for BlogMutt's clients, who will pay you for blogs you write that they post on their own websites.).

One of them was immediately viewed and put in the queue. Then, on February 12, 2015, it was posted. "Poof," I am a writer--published and paid, albeit only eight bucks and for a piece that will never be attributed to me. But still, it feels pretty cool.

The other piece I submitted was viewed and then sat in the queue to be posted for several days, but it was then "withdrawn" and assigned a symbol indicating I could recycle it if I wanted to. I discovered that in the case of this submission, the client I wrote for is no longer using BlogMutt's services and so is no longer buying this sort of blog post.

This turns out to be a good thing because from the moment I submitted this particular piece, it didn't feel right. It was my very first effort, and I had not fully comprehended that I was ghostwriting for a client. I made the rookie mistake of submitting a first person blog, which really doesn't work too well in the BlogMutt forum. A helpful BlogMutt admin gave me some great constructive feedback, and I edited the submission to include this opening line, "We received this fun note from a customer and wanted to share the words of wisdom...enjoy!"  But it still felt wrong.

So, now that it has been "withdrawn," it's mine again, and I'm publishing it now on my own blog, where it actually belonged all along.  Enjoy!

(Oh, and I'm still on the fence about how far to go with this BlogMutt thing, but they have a neat business model, and thinking about ideas for BlogMutt clients has had the bonus effect of stimulating my thinking and ideas generally--I've been motivated to write more in the last two weeks than any time in recent memory. How cool is that? And I will always credit BlogMutt for making me feel like the real writer I have always wanted to be. Applying for acceptance as a BlogMutt writer--$0; amount paid for first BlogMutt blog post--$8; finally feeling like a real writer--priceless.) 

Confession: I like bacon just fine, but I am not a bacon fanatic. I did, however, marry a bacon lover, and over the last 15 plus years, we have produced and are raising three bacon-inhaling boys. It's fair to say, I've made a lot of bacon, and I've gotten good at it.

The secret to perfect bacon is micromanagement:

First, know your audience. My family loves their bacon crispy. Though I once had to make bacon at a camp-out for an entire scout pack, where some liked it crispy and others were of the "just-kill-the-salmonella-then-feed-it-to-me" variety. Either way, micromanagement is the key.

For a good bacon outcome (as opposed to half-raw-half-burned, or some unrecognizable strip permanently adhered to your frying pan), you must micromanage your bacon. I fully recognize this approach doesn't work well in other aspects of your life, but in the world of bacon-making, it's the only way.

Next, lay your bacon out in an orderly fashion (though I must admit, on that scout camp-out, I was able to successfully micromanage three pans of very haphazard bacon, resulting in a variety of outcomes from crisp to underdone, which made all my bacon-eaters happy; but I am extremely experienced and would not recommend this to the inexperienced, albeit enthusiastic and possibly lucky, beginner).

Then...and this is the trick...TURN YOUR BACON OFTEN! This will prevent early sticking, as well as uneven cooking patterns. And by "often," I do mean, "OFTEN"! Seriously, the pan you use (though I prefer a large, non-stick dealio) and your choice of turning implement (though I prefer a long fork as opposed to a spatula or other special what-have-you), aren't that important, so long as the bacon is your focus and you are turning often--according to the bacon's needs, not your own.

Finally, manage your heat. Yes, of course, you want a medium-high heat, but pay attention and adjust according to the needs of your particular bacon. Thick cut is particularly finicky, but SO worth it.

This technique works well for all bacon, but you cannot turn your back, not even for a minute. You must not get distracted by bacon conversation, or posting bacon photos, or dancing to whatever bacon-making tunes you may be jamming out to. 

The bacon is your focus. You cannot turn it too many times, and if you are paying attention, you can transfer it from pan to plate at precisely the perfect point.

Go forth and micromanage your bacon. The bacon-eaters in your life will thank you.