humanity

Today I'm feeling my humanity. Found out that a close family member has been diagnosed with a terminal illness - a very unpleasant one that includes extreme memory loss, along with other (not so pleasant) ailments too. So I've been (again) all over the map emotionally. I've gone from completely numb to extremely sad. One minute I'm fine & the next I feel like I won't be able to stop crying.

Called a good friend on the phone today. She has been down this road too many times for someone our age, so I asked for some wisdom about what to expect & how to handle it. She had good advice & was very kind. We talked about the particular challenges of parenting while grieving & she reminded me that it's my job to teach my kid how to be human, not perfect - especially in the midst of life's unexpected curveballs.

So today, I press into my humanity . . . not perfection.

all over the map

The holidays are interesting . . . interesting in the awkward kinda way. I find myself experiencing lots of emotions during the holidays.

This particular year, we didn't have the finances to buy gifts, so I've had a lot more time than usual on my hands (time that is usually consumed by finding, wrapping & giving gifts) to spend with people. And as I've listened to my friends' hearts, my own heart has been all over the map today. Just within the last 48 hours various people have shared all kinds of things . . .

• friends found out that their adoption is official & will bring home their new daughter soon
• another friend's friend died of breast cancer - she wasn't even 40 years old
• a family member has been given a very grim medical diagnosis
• another family member experienced real freedom by spending the holidays alone
• a friend decided to move back close to us!
• another friend is looking for work & isn't sure where she'll end up in two weeks
• another family member is considering going on disability
• another friend just finished a work assignment that was the most meaningful she's ever had
• another friend wishes for all of the things I have
• another friend's 18 year old daughter considers her dead & hasn't spoken to her in 7 months

Life is interesting & I find that the holidays bring out ALL of the emotions - the real highs & the real lows . . . seems like life gives us a healthy dose of both.

the frig

Remember back when we were kids & our parents would proudly display our accomplishments on the refrigerator? Things we'd done would magically appear on the frig - things like report cards, school projects & crafts we'd made. We were so proud & felt so good about ourselves. I think it's a great tradition.


I've been giving "the frig" lots of thought as I parent. What things do I want my daughter to recognize as special accomplishments? Typically we hang things on the frig that other people can see & applaud. But I think I want to celebrate some other things with her - things that others may not be able to see. Things like . . .

• knowing what she really enjoys doing & doing it with zest
• knowing her limits & living within them
• being able to recognize her emotions
• recognizing how her physical body is feeling in any given moment
• being who she really is

Anyone else wanna hang something different on the frig?

a little too much

Growing up, I often felt like I was "a little too much." I was too quiet, too emotional, too sensitive, too straightforward, too quick to make decisions, had too big of a forehead, and many other things that were "too much" for those around me (or at least that's what I picked up on as a kid).

Nothing has changed in my adult life . . . except that I've come to the conclusion that I think my "too much" is actually what makes me unique. It's just the way God wanted me. I've got a big heart & equally big fashion choices :-) I'm moved by things that others (especially those from the conservative background I grew up in) might be turned off by - things like global justice, fashion, makeup artistry, dancing, equal rights for gay couples, etc.

In fact, my new nickname for myself is "Sparkles." I love sparkles . . . big dangly hoop earrings with rhinestones, sparkly belts, sparkly shoes, sparkly eyeliner, sparkly spray . . . let's face it, pretty much anything that sparkles (or makes people look twice) makes me smile - or at least crack up a bit.

Some may think it's a bit too much - maybe even tacky. But I really like my sparkles. It's part of what makes me me, and I'm no longer apologizing for being me.

i'm feeling blue

So for Mahalia's 3rd birthday party, she requested everything be blue . . . and so we did it up blue - VERY blue. There were blue suckers, blue balloons, blue cake, blue pinata, blue outfits, blue bags, blue cake & blue presents. It was great fun.

My favorite memory was watching her face as the candles were lit & the song began . . . she belted out the "Happy Birthday" song with the rest of us & was so very excited about the whole thing. She'd been rehearsing it for months & this was her big moment.

Remembering back to her birth, I'm still amazed at the gift of life - ALL of life . . . the fun blue parties to celebrate life & the not-so-fun blues moments of heartache. Mahalia Joy, you are named well & I'm so grateful that God gave us you. You are pure delight & I celebrate your life!

cast iron & pooh ha ha

The last 24 hours have had some pretty entertaining highs & lows (as all holidays seem to provide).

As our very first guests were arriving last night (she had just dropped her son off & walked back to her car to grab the stuffing), I thought I'd make a little more space in the sink for dishes . . . so started putting the clean ones away. I picked up the bowl on top & no sooner did I notice everything (ie. dish jenga) starting to shift - than a 5lb. cast iron skillet dropped directly on my big toe. Blood started gushing everywhere! Dan quickly grabbed a bag of frozen berries for me to use as a cold compress & I downed some extra strength Tylenol. Anyhoo - after a few washes with peroxide, a few band aid changes & a good night's rest, I'm happy to report that I'm gonna live.

This morning (as often happens), Mahalia was quizzing me on various words in Spanish (or "Smanish" as she calls it). "Mommy, what's this is Spanish?" (pointing to the couch, then to the pillow, then asking about a tree). We successfully got through about 7 or 8 different words. Then she asks, "Mommy, how do you say 'Winnie win the pooh' (aka: Winnie the Pooh) in Spanish?"

I tell her I don't know. No sooner do I get the final word out of my mouth & she says, "No Mommy! It's 'Pooh ha ha'." Even now as I type, I'm fighting laughter. It was perfect.

rated R

I think one of the marks of the human experience is our common desire to be known & accepted. Everyone, I believe, longs to have others see them . . . really see them - blemishes, wrinkles, ugly days & all. Then once we are seen for who we truly are, we want to be accepted at a profound level.

We want to be loved for who we truly are - not for the facade that we can occasionally fake or for the games we play. In fact, one of the main reasons people grow so acustomed to wearing a mask, is precisely because they don't feel seen and accepted at a gut level.

That being said, I was deeply grieved today by the fact that my life is rated R, and someone close to me only watches G movies. He only wants the "upbeat, everything'll be ok, kumbaya" version of my life . . . which (quite frankly), I'm not all that interested in telling. My life, while having incredible moments of joy & vibrancy has been marked by pain, lessons learned (some the hard way), death (of people & of dreams), and mistakes. So when he kept changing subjects each time I tried to approach the "R" side of my life, I felt like crying (and I actually did today).

Today someone asked me a great question, "Would you rather have no relationshipwith him, or a relationship that he can handle?" And quite frankly . . . I don't know.

passion

Dancing is like breathing. It's life. It's joy. It's my spirit's answer for any crazy day or any celebration. When I dance, I feel fully alive. It's not so much about the steps, the choreography or the partner as much as it about the feeling inside. With each turn, my heart becomes more alive, more full.

I resonnate with Elvis' description of his passion: singing. "It's like your whole body gets goose bumps. It's like a surge of electricity going through you. It's almost like making love but it's even stronger than that. Sometimes I think my heart is going to explode."

One of my salsero friends once asked me, "Why do you love to dance so much?" Didn't even have to think about it - because I feel God's love when I dance.

jackpot

Today is veteran's day & I feel like I hit the jackpot! Within the last 24 hours . . .

• Mahalia has become 100% potty trained!


• I danced my heart out until the wee hours of the morning


• Dan got the day off of work & let me sleep in (so no salsa hangover :-)


• We had planned to get some work done, but decided to enjoy the day together instead


• Mahalia got her 1st haircut


• We enjoyed lunch & hanging out in Chinatown


• Mahalia actually fell asleep in the car (a true miracle!)


• Dan doesn't have to work tonite, so we can hang as a family . . . ALL DAY!

As we were enjoying our fried rice & fried bananas (maybe THAT's why I was so happy - so much tasty fried foods) . . . I looked across the table & marveled at just how grateful I am to have such a full heart.

my pastor - a real treasure

I haven't been to "church" in almost two years. During that time, my thoughts about what the church is have changed dramatically. My beliefs have been challenged & my spirit has been blessed in ways that I never imagined possible - given my lack of traditional church involvement.

Today it occured to me (even though I haven't darkened the door of a church building) that I have a pastor. She's a 38 year old housewife, whose current resume includes suffering, rape & pain. The things she has taught me over the last two years have radically transformed my life.

Her kindness, wisdom, grace, truth-telling, her ability to stand with me in my pain, her spoken blessings & generosity have offered me incredible spiritual healing over the last 2 years. You know who you are. And my gratitude for your love can't be expressed in words. Thank you for letting Jesus help you to be my pastor.

holding a space

So one of the strangest things about being a "speaker's wife" is that people come up & say the most interesting things to you afterwards . . . random things, funny things, slightly insulting things, kind things - just lots of things. You never know what's comin' next. It could be anything from, "That was interesting", to "You're really pretty" to "How did you meet Dan?" Either way, I never really know how to respond. It's kind of like verbal diarrhea.

Last night, I went to hear Dan speak at a mega church down in the OC. Afterwards (as always happens) people approached me & started talking - just talking (ie. not really interacting - just talking). Now for those of you who know me, I'm not a large group kinda gal. I like coffee with a (meaning 1 or possibly 2) friend - not 300 people ambushing me after an event. So I always get a little twitchy about the whole thing.

One lady in particular stood out. She was obviously kind & a bit timid. But then she began to tell me bits & pieces of her life story. Out of respect for her, I won't share details. But what I can say was that I was shocked that she would tell me (a complete stranger) the things she told me. It started me thinking . . .

I used to feel awkward listening to folks, because I never have anything brilliant to say to them when they talk - I just listen & maybe ask a question or two. But mostly I just listen. Besides, it's Dan who's the "speaker."

But then today, as I was processing it, it occurred to me that one of the things folks need is a safe space to process. It's kinda like holding a space for someone where they can have the room to "get it out." Though it still feels a bit strange to me, I'm hoping that I'll grow in the grace of holding a space.

a different place

Tuesday will mark our 8th anniversary. It's mental gymnastics to remember the last 2,920 days of life lived together.

I remember back to our wedding day - one of the most beautiful days of our life. We were surrounded & celebrated by so many loved ones. The next day we moved to NorCal & went through hell - disowned by the very ones who had mentored Dan for over a decade. It was an incredible contrast.

Since then, there has been a move to Pasadena, 3 moves within Pasadena, many job transitions, 1 Masters degree earned, 1 dissertation written, 1 PhD finished, 1 baby girl born, countless hours of counseling, hundreds of movies watched & footrubs enjoyed, birthdays celebrated, many visitors from various places, 1 book published & 2 more on the way, thousands of hours of salsa danced, many cups of coffee enjoyed with friends, and a gazillion hours of talking between the two of us.

As we were driving to our weekend getaway last night, I was being the DJ while Dan was driving - and we were reminiscing about life. It's hard for me to imagine my life without Dan. To this day, he is still the coolest person I know, and I've never met another who even came close to what I feel for him. I wish this kind of love for every woman - to know the love of a man who is 100% for her. I think the world would be a different place.

released from the tyranny

Was talking with my sister today, and as often happens, she said something that struck me to the core. I said, "Now THAT's gonna be a blog later today!"

So we were talking about our issues (since we have so many - ha!) & were cracking up about a variety of things. We were talking about growth, pain, heartache, desire & all of that stuff. Then she blows me away . . .

She says, "I've finally been released from the tyranny of what I want." I literally sat down (outside on the curb) because I know this is gonna be good.

Then she continued . . . "I realized that so many of the things that I want so desperately have been keeping me driven." She explained how she's been continually pursuing things with a ferocity & yet never attaining them. But since she's let go of her desires & learned to live with the life she actually has, she's become satisfied.

Whoa! It took me a while to chew it all over.

She continued by saying that so much of her life today isn't at all what she had wanted. But she's deeply satisfied with it. It rang so true in my own spirit. When we are released from the tyranny of our own desires, and learn to live with the life we have (instead of constantly fighting against it), a certain space is created . . . wherein deep satisfaction can reside. Thanks again, sis!

what i've learned from bronchitis & sinusitis

So yesterday (after cancelling my much-anticipated trip to MN to see family & friends, and going to the doctor) I was diagnosed with bronchitis & sinusitis. No wonder I've felt so horrible!

But here's what I've learned . . . that you cannot survive without community. I also learned that I have a very special group of friends. Carrie took Mahalia on Monday afternoon (cuz I felt like I got hit by a bus). Tuesday, Mandy & Aki, stayed with Mahalia for a bit so I could get out. Yesterday (when I felt like I got hit by a bus AND the metro), Sherri came & took Mahalia overnight & will drop her off at school today.

Then there have been countless people who have been calling, texting & emailing, offering to help in various ways. Even though I have felt horrible, I've felt the love of my people. While I often wish that I lived closer to my family, my friends have become my family - and for that, I am deeply grateful. I truly couldn't have done it this week without you.

the very best

So I have a friend, Angela, who has been one of the VERY BEST friends I could've ever hoped for! She has touched my life in SO many ways - all for the good.

She came for a 5 day visit . . . and we lived it up! Check it out: http://angeladeann.blogspot.com/ I wish everyone could have a friend as good as Angela.

i can breathe

Today marks the beginning of week #5 of being sick. I was pretty optimistic & upbeat weeks #1 & 2. However, yesterday was a real low.

I haven't been able to breathe through my nose for days (despite taking a gazillion different types of decongestant, nettie pot, cough drops, tea tree chest rub, hot showers etc.). Not being able to breathe makes sleeping nearly impossible. So even though I'm exhausted, I can't sleep for more than 1/2 hour at a time.

Thankfully, a friend rescued me yesterday. She took Mahalia for the WHOLE afternoon while Dan was at work. I laid on the couch for 5 hours straight - trying (unsuccessfully) to sleep. However, I was SOOOO very grateful not to have to parent at the same time!

Dan leaves in less than an hour for a conference - and we won't see him for a week. Meanwhile, we'll board a plane for Minnesota tomorrow to visit family & friends. Should be interesting!

Ironically (or maybe not), the only thing that seems to help is dancing. When I dance, I can breathe. Huh - kinda sounds like a metaphor for my life.

suffering & solitude

What are the key qualities of wise people - "sages." I've run into a few lately & have wondered . . . What makes them tick? Why do they have a palatable inner peace that you can personally experience through them? Why do we listen to them & take their advice so seriously?

There's a quality to what they're saying that you just can't find in others . . . I started wracking my brain wondering, "what's the common denomator?" After considerable time, I think it's the combination of suffering & solitude. Anyone wanna sign up? Doesn't sound all that fun, right?

Seriously, what makes people (usually a bit older & not the image of perfect "beauty") so worth being around? I really think it's the fact that they've been through some stuff - crazy stuff, painful stuff, excruciating difficult stuff. Maybe death, loss, depression, sadness etc. But that's not enough. Everyone experiences suffering.

It's the fact that they take it one step further - they take their suffering into that quiet place of reflection & become changed. Let's call it solitude. They don't simply press on, work harder & stuff the pain. They sit in the pain & become transformed.

Look at the flip side. Ever met someone who's been through some really painful stuff, but they just press on as if nothing has happened? Being around them is nutty - they're a flurry of activity. They repeat the same old stuff that STILL hasn't gotten them anywhere. They work harder & run faster. But are they any wiser? Or are they simply avoiding the pain? Are they trying to run so fast that they can't see what's inside?

So since we all will experience suffering, what if we took it to the next level?

crazy or disappointed?

One of the most difficult things I'm learning to do is to do as a "grown up" is to live with disappointment.

Growing up a Gen X-er (particularly a woman), I thought that I could "have it all." What I'm learning is that "having it all" is really too much. If you have everything, it's simply to much to take in all at once. If I try everything on the menu, I can't possibly savor each unique taste. Same thing with life . . . sometimes having everything makes everything less "tasty" - less special.

But not being able to "taste" everything in life can sometimes feel like a disappointment. For instance, when I chose to get married, it meant moving away from my entire community - my family, friends, neighbors, favorite hang-out spots etc. For the first few years (we're coming up on 8 now!) I made myself CRAZY trying to maintain the relationships I had back in my beloved community. I tried so hard to keep everything as it had been. I was so sad to have moved away that I made myself sick (literally).

Then thankfully, a couple of years ago, I began to experience a shift. I started to be able to contemplate living with disappointment . . . living with the reality that things would never be the same - EVER. Once I surrendered to the disappointment, I found that the "crazies" began to leave. Once I was able to admit the disappointment, I no longer felt bound to keep trying to make it all work.

I never thought that living with disappointment would help me let go of the crazy.

give what you have

A while ago I was sad - really sad. I wished I could give a young person I care about all that they needed in a tough moment. He poured out his heart . . . feeling sad because he hasn't seen his father in years & really misses him. As the tears rolled down his cheeks, I fought back my own tears.

Later that day, I was angry - really angry. I was angry at the world. Angry at "the man." Angry that the system isn't working for him. The things he is dealing with at a young age are unjust - SO UNJUST.

Then I was frustrated - frustrated that I couldn't give him all that he needs in life. I felt frustrated that I saw such incredible need & could only give a small portion of what he needs.

Later that day, a very wise woman told me, "You can't give him everything he needs, but you can give what you have."

So often I focus on what I don't have, or what I'd like to have . . . or worse, what others have that I don't have. Then I get all bent out of shape because I can't play god. Shame on me. Shame on me for being so arrogant as to even think for one brief moment that I should have everything he needed - and causing him to be dependent on me. What he needs is far more profound than I could imagine - the depths of which only God can satisfy. What ALL of us need is far more profound than what any one person can possibly do.

We can't give others everything they need, but we CAN give what we have.

be the change

I recently read something in a book (that I HIGHLY recommend), called "The Myth of a Christian Religion" by Greg Boyd. In it, he says, "Often people want to change the world before they themselves are changed. It never works. In fact, I'd argue that nothing damages the world more than damaged people constantly trying to fix it. The best thing anyone can do for the world is to follow Gandhi's advice and simply be the change they want to see in the world."

I've "stewed" on that quote for weeks now . . . BE the change. I look back & see how many times I've talked about what needs to be changed, how it should be changed, criticized those who haven't changed, judged those who don't see a need for change etc. So when I read this, I was like, WHOA! I needed that slap in the face.

Just BE the change. Focus on myself. Work on BE-ing the change I long for in the world.

dump truck

So the other day, someone just backed the emotional truck up & dumped all over me.

It happened to be someone who I know loves me a lot, so on the one hand, I was bummed, sad, disappointed etc. Then on the other hand, I was cracking up inside. He has been emotionally illiterate our entire relationship. He (& no, it's not my hubby!) has done this MANY times over the course of our relationship, but this was the first time I was able to see the whole thing from "outside" . . . it was like an out-of-body experience. I "watched" it happen.

There he was, saying really mean stuff (based on info he got from someone else) . . . dumping all over me. No clarifying questions, no attempt to understand where I was coming from . . . just accusations & dumping.

Normally, I would defend myself & try to explain. This time I just listened in astonishment & said, "I need you help me to understand . . . I have no idea what you're talking about" which I think disarmed him a bit. Then after dumping a bunch more, he abruptly ended the conversation. Strange. Or maybe par for the course for our relationship.

Where do I go from here?

mommy sit

“Mommy sit!” has been my daughter's mantra since she could talk. Sometimes it comes in the form of a question, but usually it is phrased as a demand. “Mommy sit!” She begs me to sit on the floor and play. We have discovered the pleasures of choo-choo trains, little people, balls, dolls & cars.

When she said it the first few times, I didn’t think much of it. I just thought, “That’s cute. She wants me to play with her.” But the more she said it (and she says it many times every day), the more I began to reflect on the significance of “Mommy sit!” I’ve found that she’s not so interested in the sitting, as she is in the time spent without distraction.

As a type A, German, energetic woman with lots of things I’d like to do in any given day, let’s just say that “Mommy sit!” isn’t exactly my forte in life. If it isn’t on a list that I can check off (to demonstrate just how much I’ve done in a day) it probably doesn’t come natural to me. I’m motivated by action and accomplishment, by progress & growth.

But her insistence intrigued me. I began to see “Mommy sit” as a spiritual journey. For my daughter, “Mommy sit!” is the gift of my uninterrupted attention. “Mommy sit” means I’m not doing laundry or dishes. I’m not checking email. I’m not on the phone with another friend. I’m simply on the floor – eyeball to eyeball. Connected.

When I’m doing “Mommy sit!” I’m living in the moment with her. As I’ve begun to sit down more & “do” less, I’ve noticed a shift. I’ve noticed that I’ve tuned into her, but I've also tuned into my own life. I’ve found that I’m able to recognize my own emotions in any given moment. Instead of being focused on the past (frustrations of the day) or the future (what remains undone), I’m able to slip into the “NOW.”

It is also the realization that God is waiting for me. He’s waiting for me to say, “Daddy sit!” He’s got time. But do I? God is sitting on the park bench of my soul – waiting for me to sit down with him – to be still long enough to make a connection.

When I take time to sit & think, or to steal a few moments to read, or even just take a nap & rest, I find that God speaks to me. When I’m racing around, trying to find a “deal” at a local store, or finish one last project, I find that my mind is completely occupied. It’s occupied with a sort of drive. But when I’m able to slow my mind a bit, I find that space opens up for God to “sit” with me in my soul.

So each day when my daughter says, “Mommy sit,” I am reminded of just how willing God is to sit with me & look me in the soul, and spend uninterrupted time together. My prayer for myself is that I will learn to sit – with my daughter, with God, and in my own soul.

in the fullness of time

Ever labored towards something really hard for days, weeks - even decades? Things like becoming less judgmental, rebuilding broken relationships or staying calm in the midst of conflict . . . things that are hard to track & know when you've arrived.

You work at it with so much effort - you put thought into it. You talk to folks about it. You reflect on it & ask God to speak to you about it. Then you go back to the "grind stone" - cuz that's what it is - a grinding. You wonder, "Will I ever get there?" maybe you almost give up, but then you redouble your efforts.

Ever been so focused that you almost miss it when you get there? That almost happened to me - except that I woke up the next morning. I felt totally free. Refreshed. It was finished. I found myself mesmerized by it all - especially the feeling free part. I kinda thought it might never happen - but then there I was . . . done.

Somehow time had taken it's course & in the fullness of time it came to fruition. I love the concept "fullness of time" because it implies that time (the inner goings-on) have been happening all along & now just happens to be the fullness of it. It was a profound moment.

happy growth

The last few days have provided multiple "opportunities" (aka: miserable situations) to see if the new skills I've been working on (standing my ground without retaliating, being kind in the midst of hateful actions, speaking truth even in difficult situations) have really taken root.

In 2008 my goal was "no more drama" . . . and bit by bit, I began to look at each aspect of my life & intentionally hit the "delete" button on any drama. 2009 has been the culmination of quite a few of those decisions . . . and I'm happy to say I'm doin' it! Not 100% all the time, but enough to feel deep satisfaction.

So yesterday (which had multiple crazy situations) was a proving ground - and I'm happy to say that at the end of the day, I was laughing & simply moving forward . . . not getting stuck in old patterns, not playing the blame game, not letting it all drag me too far down. We went out to the mall to hang out & at the end of the night, Dan bought me a shirt I've been eyeing for about 2 months. When I asked him why, he said, "Happy growth!"

It was so fun to celebrate the growth . . . and today, I took a friend out to celebrate her growth & got her a couple of cute "growth" shirts too. I love celebrating the things that really matter! (Please excuse the self portrait via mirror!)

beating the shit out

Normally when I used the phrase "beat the shit out" out of something, it's used in a not-so-pleasant kinda way . . . like "I got the shit beat out of me" (aka: got beat up). I conjures up images of bloody stuff that hurts . . . think Kill Bill meets Chuck Norris

Anyhoo - this last week has brought back a few painful memories of the past . . . disappointment with work, tough economy, friendships that turned sour, and other things that all of us agree just aren't all that fun.

But the one thing I've noticed through it all is that pain does one of two things - it embitters/hardens you or it softens you. Though I've gone through my angry phases (don't get it twisted, I'm not about denial), I'm happy to report that I'm coming out softer - kinder, more gentle, and less judgmental. I've kinda felt like a steak that's been "tenderized" - you know how you just keep whacking it (with a big old meat hammer or whatever they call those thingies) until it's really soft & tender - then you throw it in the oven & cook the sucker until it falls apart.

And as I was relaying to a friend how I'm kinda tired of the "tenderizing" phase, I found myself saying (outloud, not just in my head) quote, "I want God to beat the shit out of me . . . literally. I want life to keep coming at me until I am genuinely kind & loving." I don't want to just act kind & do loving things. I want to BE kind & loving . . . the kind of kind that meets criticism with gentleness instead of defensiveness . . .

Anyone else out there getting the shit beat of out them???

release is freedom

Each year, my sister has a theme for the year - the theme works as a guide throughout the year.

I can't remember exactly which year "release is freedom" was the theme, but we've had quite a few meaningful conversations about it. When I think freedom, I don't so much think of release - which is really quite ironic . . . given that being released from something say, like, prison would be GREAT news. But typically I think of freedom as having the time or space to get what I want - and I usually want MORE of whatever it is . . . clothes, dates with my hubby, great dances etc.

But this whole notion of "release is freedom" got me to thinking . . . and helped me let go of a bunch of stuff - physical and emotional. Over the last few months, I've let go of lots of stuff that I was hoping to hang on to for future use - like baby stuff, clothes, gadgets etc that I might need in the future. We had a yard sale & we also sold a bunch of stuff on Craig's list. Funny thing is - once I let it go, I felt free. No longer obligated to think about it, maintain it, protect it etc. Now there's space (literal space) . . . which in my world translates into peace.

So I'm wondering what else I need to release - cuz I'm diggin' the freedom.

forest fire

Ever have one of those moments when everything you got doesn't even come close to what you need? Been in a situation when people's best advice can't even touch the magnitude of what you're going through?

Me too. So when I heard my sister say, "I feel like I'm fighting a forest fire with a squirt gun," I burst out laughing. It was the perfect image. How ridiculous can you get? Can you imagine a 200 lb fire fighter in a blazing fire in the dry hills of SoCal with a squirt gun . . . heck, even a garden hose. Ain't no chance - no chance at all.

So the next time you're up against a forest fire, if you all you got is a squirt gun - at least you can have a good laugh!

adventures in missing the point

So the other day, a friend was relaying a story to me about how her sister (a devout christian) hasn't spoken to her in years . . .

After a little prompting from their Mom they had the opportunity to speak to one another recently. As my friend was relaying the story of how the conversation went, I was struck by something . . . Her sister (aka: "Devout Christian") was angry with her for walking away from God & for making different choices than they had grown up with as a family. "Devout Christian" wanted my friend to take responsibility for hurting her & for their broken relationship.

My friend (the awesomest friend!) graciously accepted responsibility for the things that she, in fact, could take responsibility for & let her sister know how much she wanted a relationship with her, regardless of their differences.

"Devout Christian" wouldn't take responsibility for any of the breakdown in the relationship. She insisted that my friend was at fault for everything, but couldn't see any of her part in their relationship taking a nose dive over the last decade.
As my friend was telling me, I started cracking up & said, "Isn't it ironic that the one who is working so hard to 'do the right things' is missing the point of grace so badly?"

Haven't we all done that . . . that thing where we so completely miss the point that it's laughable. I know I have. So when I thought about judging "Devout Christian" for missing the point so drastically, I was reminded of how many times I've completely missed the point myself.

There's a quote in the book Love is an Orientation by Andrew Marin (a must read, by the way) that I just love. I couldn't find the actual quote, but the gist is that, "It's the Holy Spirit's job to convict, Jesus' job to save, God the Father's job to judge & my job to love."

Wouldn't it be a different world if we all just did our job?

greatest joy

Lately, Dan & I have been wrestling through some tough decisions . . . the kind of decisions that alter the course of your life (for the rest of your life) . . . the kind of decisions that you think about, stay awake at night about, pray about, talk with friends about & agonize about. I've wrestled through the "shoulds," "norms," "oughts," "pros & cons," etc.

I don't know about you, but when you're making one of these kinds of life-altering decisions, people have all kinds of interesting/annoying/unhelpful/helpful/insightful advice. With regards to our decisions, I've heard all kinds of things - mostly the "same old, same old" stuff - not particularly helpful.

But then I was talking with a trusted friend . . . and she said something that blew my mind. She said to me "Emily - I don't know what you should do, but I encourage you to press into your greatest joy." WHAT!!!??? Press into your greatest joy? Then she followed up with, "I don't encourage you to look at this rationally or take too much stock in what is the easiest route. Our greatest joy often comes with the greatest struggle. But in the end, your heart will be full."

I was speechless. It resonnated deep in my spirit & I knew she was right . . . I need to press into my greatest joy.

103+ temp

So our kiddo has been sick the last few days . . . 103+ temp. So there's been lots of snuggling, too much TV, popsicles galore & plenty of temperature taking. I get FAR more snuggling when she's sick, so I don't mind it so much.

But here's my favorite moment . . .

perfect timing

Once or twice each year, I'm lucky enough to meet up with two of my favorite girlfriends (we're kinda like our own version of Sex in the City) for dinner. We all drive over an hour to meet together in person. And it's always colorful conversation.

We settled into our table at PFChang's, and it didn't take long (shortly after the chicken lettuce wraps & before the mongolian beef) for us to cut through the "fluff" and cut to the "real" stuff. Each of us went around the table & checked-in. It's been a tough year for all of us - from cancer scares to break-ups to shitty financial situations. Midway into the cashew chicken, we had all teared up at least once. It got pretty intense as we shared our struggles with one another.

But the best part was that our waiter managed to refill our water glasses EVERY time one of us started to cry. Literally, I started to bawl & he came for a refill. My friend was sharing the details of a breast biopsy & he came for a refill. By the 3rd time, I was laughing hysterically & I'm sure he was wondering what was in the water. It couldn't have been better comic relief if he'd tried. I only wish I could remember his name so I could give him a shout out. Thanks for the water & the relief.

in her eyes . . .

Last week I was at the beach with my daughter. Amidst building sand castles, jumping waves, eating snacks (& fighting off the seagulls), and re-applying sunscreen, we had a moment laying side-by-side on our towels. We were eyeball to eyeball - and it was a moment I won't forget . . . the moment I saw my reflection in her eyes.

I literally saw myself in her eyes & it moved me. It sparked a whole trail of thought . . .

I wondered what traits she'll have that come from me. What quirks will she get from me? What personality flaws will she get from me? What passions will she inherit from me? How will I influence her? What mistakes have I made that will impact her life? So many things poured through my head about her . . . and I felt crazy love. I wished I had a camera to capture the moment, but then realized a photo couldn't come close to what I felt in that moment.

Then I began to wonder how many little girls around the world never see their reflection in someone else's eyes . . .

does he love me?

I've been asked many times by friends, "How do I know if he loves me. . . . really loves me?" Well, let me tell you!

Imagine the RED ZONE day . . . your hair is on fire cuz your brain is burning with a million things blazing inside . . . you just got really bad news from a friend . . . you're about to lose it with the ones you love . . . you can't take another item on the "to do" list . . . and you don't have any energy to be "fun" or engaging with your man. You're not cute. You're not fun. You're not sweet, kind or well, quite frankly - not anything a man might want.

Then imagine he shows up with foot creme, tells you to sit down & let him rub your feet while you watch your favorite show (which happens to be one he abhors, cuz it's so "girly") & just unwind for a while. THAT, my friends, is when you know he loves you!

And that's exactly how I knew he loved me the other day. Thanks babe! You rocked my world 9 years ago & continue to rock my world now.

confronting evil

For those who know me - you know I am passionate about dancing. The crazy kind of passionate. I feel alive when I dance. I feel free when I dance. I feel loved when I dance. It brings me the kind of joy that words can't explain. When I've had a crazy day, I can literally dance my way out of it. Dancing takes me from crazy to sane in 1 song.


So when I was assaulted on the dance floor earlier this spring, it was an incredible blow. Not only was I assaulted, but I was assaulted doing the one thing that I feel most alive doing. The details of the assault aren't important, but what happened next, victims of violence can relate to.


First there was shock - all emotion vanished. I told the owner of the club what happened like a math teacher explains an algebra equation. Then came the tears & the flood of emotion - like hurricane Katrina hitting the neighborhood - unprepared & vulnerable. Then there was fear. Would I see him again? Would I get hurt again? Then there was anger. Why did this happen to me? Why didn't anyone stop it? How come the police won't take a report? Then there was grief. Something innocent was taken away - something beautiful. Then came terror. I began looking over my shoulder everywhere I went - hyper vigilant at every turn.


But then that faint, small voice spoke to my heart . . . and whispered, "don't let him steal your joy." I leaned into the voice & let it continue to speak. It said, "he can do evil to your physical body, but he can't break your spirit. Don't let him steal your joy."


So I started to wonder . . . and waffle. Was I willing to take the risk of going back out? Would I risk going back out to the very place where I had been violated? Would I continue to look over my shoulder in fear? Would I risk confronting evil again?

For everyone who has been a victim of violence, it's a tough choice. The reality of evil is real, and it's effects are devastating.


But on Easter Sunday (which happens to be my favorite holiday), it became clear. Choose life. Choose freedom. Choose joy. DANCE!

inspiration

Today I had my final inspiration to start blogging . . . it came to me - the title, that is.

Over a year ago, my sister (a young, but wise, sage) was telling me about creating a "park bench of the soul" where you invite people into a sacred space. It's a space where striving stops and rest begins. It's a space where crazy ends & peace takes over. It's a space we all long for . . . that place where someone invites you into a safe place where you can share your soul. It's an intimate place that you can only arrive at through things that might not make sense at first glance - pain, suffering, loss. But it softens you. It makes you more gentle & kind. It's counter-intuitive. It doesn't require much - in fact, the more you "do" to arrive at the park bench, the less likely you are to actually get there.

Over the last year, I have been attempting to clear the decks - remove the "crazy" from my life - whatever (& whoever) that is. It's been a beautiful, difficult, humbling, courage-building journey. I've had to let go of many things - job, friends that kept me stuck, ideas about how my life "should" be, and old ways of thinking, convenient habits etc.

God has been speaking to me, as I've allowed him to sit with me on the park bench of my soul. We, along with a few trusted friends, have journeyed to the dark, but hopeful places. I hope that as I begin to blog, you might join me in creating space on the park bench of our souls.