Bravely Step Forward

Today, I spoke words to a camera as part of a recording meant to encourage and uplift women at an upcoming retreat.  Immediately honored, the words easily spilled days in advance.  However, the day I need it most, my computer seizes.  Unable to print my speech, I head to church to meet the videographer…my inner critic loudly proclaiming that I’m no speaker, clearly no writer, completely unworthy, not to mention unorganized.  Squashing it and moving forward, deciding my written speech is not participating, my bullet notes will have to do…but when I glance at my notes, instant blur, nothing made sense.   Test anxiety pummeled me, my mind drew complete blanks. My heart pulsed through my ears. As she continued to set up the camera, I nervously babbled and alternated deep breaths.  Pulling her in the loop, I admit my nervous thoughts and press forward with winging it.  Camera poised, microphone balanced, lighting flattering, bullet notes visible...she pressed record and I exhale.  The deep desire of my heart is helping ladies feel beautiful so I pictured them on the other side of the aperture…right there, inches away.  All nervousness melted and the words spilled easily.  Roughly following the bullet notes retained my focus, but new concepts dropped in, too.  One word flowed into another, sharing lessons, tips and some heart to heart. 

At final words, air kisses sent, I hopped from my perch and signed off.  Worry gone, inner critic quiet, peace reigned. Honored to play one small part in encouraging women towards their best self, I was thankful that the words flowed and that the inner critic was squashed.  For me, it was an affirmation of continuing to bravely step forward regardless of fear. 

Keep it Simple

Months of morning zen time have left me angry and empty.  Maybe I’m not doing it right, maybe it’s just not for me.  For months now, I’ve risen at 5am, giving myself a good 90 minutes of reading, writing, meditating, doing yoga…and within 5 short minutes, I’m frazzled and frustrated again.  Feeling like one important and very crucial part was missing, I added 5 min of worship music…one song.  Looking back, it was like talking to your best friend for a mere 5 minutes.  It’s just impossible.  Nothing good can come of it, there’s simply not enough time to talk, then listen, then talk some more.  I added two songs, but still time felt out of proportion.  The dreaming and staring over magazine cut-out vision boards and aligning my chakra just seemed like worshiping the bark and not the tree.  

So I cleared the decks and went back to basics.  I was working too hard to drawl my own vision into reality, striving, pushing, when all I really need to do is Love God, and Love Others.  Keep it simple.  I still rise early in the morning, but now, it’s a long conversation with a good friend.  Worship music, reading, filling a gratitude journal, praying over family, friends, our schools, our church, my neighbors, our government, then myself.  He’s got this creative way of bending and stretching me until I’m in the right place…it’s a gut feeling, a holy nudge, an unsatisfied itch…He’ll keep at it until I’m adjusted.  I can keep trying to do it my own way, but my version is never as good, as efficient, as fruitful.  I complicate things, when it’s best to keep it simple.

13 Years of Bruises

For 13 years, our bed has sat in the exact same spot.  In a wide loop from bedroom door to bathroom, my shin will inevitably hit the edge of the platform frame once a week.  Why only now have I decided to move the bed? So long it has occupied that spot, I’ve memorized the wide loop in a number of 5 quick steps. My fingers trace the edge in the dark to avoid the thump. It makes absolutely no sense to keep it in that spot, but there it sits, four deep wells of comfortable dips in the carpet and 13 years of shin bruises. Comfort and familiarity shouldn’t be the only reason to avoid change.  So this weekend, Tim will begrudgingly oblige as we shuffle the bed to an alternate wall.  In a chain of events, every other piece of furniture will find new dips on the carpet.

Pulling Cole from the standard routine of high school education is the glaring culprit to this fresh awareness of routine rut. With new eyes on all actions and placements, what else is wasteful, inefficient, pointless?  Constantly looking for a new and alternative way to accomplish the same tired task, smarter ways to do things are waiting to be discovered. Small things, like moving a lamp to a spot where I frequently read, switching stacks of dishes to a smarter cabinet.  What bigger things need adjustment? 

Baby steps…starting with the bed and a future free of shin bruises.    

Six Months

I’ve got Six short months.

Just yesterday we had that long distance comfort between birth and college.  Now it’s a mere Six months away.  Six months of action, memories, sweet words, learning, wisdom.  She came into this world like a calm 20 year old…like she’s always meant to be here, bound to make great change, wiser than this world.  She’ll manage all matter of big and tiny details just perfectly on her own…the best kind of learning often is hands on.  My main focus has always been to make sure she’s comfortable in her own skin.  That she knows who and whose she is.  That she carries a confidence that is unshaken by this untethered world, a lesson that never ends.

I’ve been failing on my job recently…a bit distracted, wastefully busy.  All good intentions, but the priority is misaligned.  She should have always been closer to the top…but she quietly takes care so well, I took her for granted.  Not wanting to workout with her because I’m a morning gal…selfish.  Headphones in and YouTube stares…isolated.  Reclining after dinner…unhealthy.  For a mere six months, she still needs me. Headphones are being tucked away, screens are being limited, feet and minds are moving.   Six months of filling her confidence bucket to overflowing.  Six months of endless love and listening.  I’ve got Six months.

Today We Jump

Today is the day we make a move in a strange and unknown direction. Research, conversations, prayers, lists, visits…I’ve done more digging on this single decision than all of my biggest decisions combined.  Marriage, children, home-ownership, starting a business…all followed my gut. This decision, however, affects more than myself, so I’ve lingered in the safe places for a bit longer. At some point, an action is required…a blind step in some direction. I can stew and simmer, dig and deliberate but today’s the day we jump. 

Maya & Cole are two completely different glorious beings.  From day one, they’ve required different styles of parenting, different ways to reason, different motivations, different definitions of love. It's no surprise that they also have different ways of learning.  Today I submit paperwork that releases him from school and we begin the wild world of home-schooling.

So many fears.  Again, that negative voice speaks I’m no teacher, you may fail, he may suffer, others will judge.  Those fears apply to almost any decision.  The way I understand it, decision making has one final outcome.  Finding a thousand opinions in favor and equal amounts against, the pros and cons list may possibly equal out.  We can remain in the status-quo safe places or we can follow another path.  Ultimately, after all the digging, diving, and solid hours of prayer, one foot must finally move in front of the other.  No longer satisfied in the safe places, today we jump. 

Battle for Perspective

I was grumpy this weekend. Overwhelm, frustration or simple hunger delivered me to an unhappy place.  Deciding to separate myself for some deep breaths and a chance to find peaceful ground, I stepped into the shower to shake off the funk.  So often, the shower is exactly where wisdom falls.  Vulnerable, exposed, no distractions, that still small voice seems so much clearer.  That morning, perhaps even in that moment, a young bride was saying forever goodbye to her 38 year old husband.  Suffering, hospital-bound, he missed the birth of their daughter.  His eyes never laid gaze on her tiny hands.  A new widow finding new normal without her love.  Closing my eyes, I picture waves of love washing over her.  Sending a complete stranger love predictably refreshing my own buckets, my own annoyance now seems so insignificant.  New perspective gained, I’m able to face the world again.  Downstairs, Tim recounts the viral letter from a dying 27 year old Cancer patient. Affirmation to shake off the small stuff, yet again.  

It’s the annoying, petty, insignificant stuff that blocks the action of love, of living.  Constantly returning to distract.  For me, it’s mom guilt, body image, future worries, long to-do lists, work overwhelm, friend guilt, wife guilt, more guilt.  Get out of my way, petty, for proper perspective. 

Gratitude. Love.  Sending it, thinking it, being it, speaking it, living it, savoring it.  I want to sit protected in that place, safe from small annoyances and big griefs, but the world and insecurity happens. It seems the answer is to locate the petty, name it, squash it, then savor gratitude, receive and send love. Then repeat.  It’s a constant battle to regain perspective, a worthy battle, no doubt. A battle within which I’m likely not alone.   

A Good Stretch

I’ve been stretching lately.  Not only a morning yoga routine to get my mind and muscles moving, but also stretching conversations, comfort zones…asking the hard questions.  Safer to stick to the generally prescribed conversation topics, I’ve recently veered from comfortable into honest and what emerged on the other side was nothing short of delightful. 

An unexpected date night with Tim produced the generic topics of children, but once depleted, the quiet settled.  Not satisfied with the quiet, the questions came…then another and another. A healthy balance of listening, commenting, and contributing turned historically triggered and guarded conversations into a better, healthier version. It was

exactly what we both needed.  Soon enough, the babes will depart to build their own lives and we’ll return to us.  After years of kid-focused living, that could be a little awkward…I’m thrilled to find these bread crumbs back to the beginning. 

Then again, over a decadent dinner with a dear friend, conversation freely flowed.  Often easy to take friends for granted, I stretched to carve out a little time to lavish, to absorb, to celebrate.  I stretched again with honest conversation…the easy path would be to simply agree, yet conversations lead to unexpected places with each fresh perspective.   No false airs, no expectation, no end game, easy conversation, laughter leading to insight, honesty. Dreams, goals, worries, revelations, histories, all things worthy to share with a good friend. All things layering into a better version of me and a healthier definition of friendship. 

Great things lay on the other side of a good stretch.