Two crazy boys: Check.
One light saber
Two swords
One sling shot
One gun that shoots lightning
And a rocket launching airplane
Check.
The two best babysitters in the whole. entire. world.
Check.
Sneaking a kiss in was loudly protested by the imps in the back
Check ;]
I have thought a lot about time lately, mostly because it always feels like it’s getting away from me. I’m young and if I get to live a full life, I have plenty of time left. I know that and yet I feel a little panicked every time I look at what day or month it is and wonder how we got here so quickly. Summer, for instance, is over. Um, not okay with me, not that anybody asked but seriously, what the heck? I thought summer just started and all of a sudden everyone I know is posting back-to-school pictures of their kids on Facebook. A little girl I used to babysit put a picture up today of her first day in college…so now I feel old and summer is still over. Awesome.
I keep thinking its July and then I look at my day planner and realize for the 19th time now that it’s August and that August is fast melting into September. Normally I rush through summer trying to get to fall. I love the cooler weather, the pumpkin lattes, the boots and sweaters. But this year I just can’t get there mentally. I want time to stand still for a moment so I can catch my breath and get my head around it.
Darren gave me a watch for my birthday last year; I had pointed it out to him in a catalog and then on my birthday he took me to the jewelry counter where the lady working pulled it out and gave it to me all wrapped up and ready for my birthday. I squealed; I do that when I’m happy. I’ve worn that watch a lot this year, especially in Europe when we didn’t have our cell phones to check the time and we were always keeping track of the minutes and the train schedule. I look at it in church when I’m thinking about lunch instead of the sermon and I look at it a lot at work…waiting, waiting for the minutes to tick-tock past five.
It feels strange to me to wear time on my arm like that, to watch the thin little second hand tick along beat by beat as the seconds of my life pass on and on. It feels a little bit like taking my pulse or listening to the beating and rhythm of my heart. Tick tock. Tick tock. It terrifies me, watching my life go by like that.
Right now time feels like water swirling down the drain and I’m caught and drowning in the waves. I keep wondering what this is all about; why do I feel like time is marching over me instead of tick-tocking along with me? Why am I drowning?
We are busy for sure. This morning on the way to work Darren and I kept listing off things we need to get done. I finally pulled out a notebook and starting writing things down and the list ended up being two pages long. We work all day, we run errands, we eat quickly and late, we try to get a few things done around the house, we watch a little TV and then collapse in bed before we have to get up and do it all again. We run and run but somehow I feel in our haste that I’m running out of time…or at least misusing the time I’ve been given. It nags me, this anxiousness about what I’m doing with what I’ve been given and what I should be doing better instead.
This post has no resolution really, because I have no answers. These are just my thoughts, my fears, the things I’m working through and trying to get a handle on.
This is time—marching, marching by.
Creativity is hard work. It’s one thing to be inspired; it’s another thing entirely to be productive. I find myself lately full of ideas backed by zero action. What’s holding me back?
It’s nice to sit around thinking pretty thoughts but it’s also very nearly useless if I never actually birth those thoughts into some form of creative reality.
Sometimes the most important thing I can do is…start. I can stop thinking about what I want and start creating it. I can stop wishing things were different and change them. I can type the first word. I can take the first step. I can begin where I am with what I have.
Creativity is a hard and a beautiful thing; but it’s worth the beauty and it’s worth the work.
So let’s get started.
“If people knew how hard I worked to get my mastery, it wouldn’t seem so wonderful at all.” Michelangelo
Every day at work I sit at my desk looking at the computer. I sit until I can’t hold still anymore. I fidget and stretch. I slide down in my chair and back up. I lean forward against my desk and lean back into my chair.
I’ve never been very good at sitting still.
After a while I can’t take it anymore so I walk over to the window in the office and stare outside at the vehicles zipping by on I-391. I’ve watched all the seasons come and go through that glass. The summer green burns into the oranges and yellows of autumn. The leaves fall and the flakes fly. Spring pounds the glass with rain and the leaves timidly come back. I always want to go outside and feel the weather on my skin. I like it best when the weather is just so and we can leave both the heat and the air conditioning off and let the breeze come dancing in through the open window. But those times are few and I get in trouble all summer long for turning off the air conditioner so I can hear the wind and the cars go by outside.
I’m thankful for my job, truly, but I am not cut out for office work, not at all. Like I said, I’m not good at sitting still. I’m always so tired when I get home from work. I feel like all the life has been sucked out of me and I always wonder how a person can get so tired from just sitting in a chair all day. But it wears you out, it wears you down, these four walls.
When we were in Europe, we had family come stay at our house to watch our cat. The cat likes to go outside; he walks around the yard smelling the flowers and chases butterflies. He’s buddies with the cat next door and the two of them run the streets and try to act like tough lions instead of domestic little ginger toms.
I worried about that crazy cat the whole time we were overseas because that’s just how I am. I have no idea how I’ll ever fall asleep when I have children—I’ll worry so much.
We got back from our trip late at night after a very rough flight and lots of delays. We were jet lagged and exhausted. But I didn’t care because we were almost home and I wanted to squeeze that crazy cat that I had spent so much time worrying about.
But we found out on the drive home that the cat had run away a week before and hadn’t been seen since. That tore me up; I love that little guy. We looked all over and couldn’t find him anywhere. We put up missing signs and waited and prayed that he would turn up. I was sick worrying about what might have happened to him. And then, late one night, a neighbor called and said Mr. Katniss was at their house {eating their spare rib dinner, mind you}. I couldn’t believe it; I was afraid to believe it in case they were wrong. Darren jumped in the car and went to bring him home. I can’t explain the joy and relief when he walked in the front door with that little guy in his arms.
For a long time after that we kept the cat inside because we didn’t want to risk anything happening to him.
He hated it inside. He would meow at the door and meow at the windows. He would behave very badly and was ripping the whole house to pieces. He broke all the blinds {okay, I broke a couple of them} and was being a terrible little menace. He would get so mad he would wrap around my legs and chew on my ankles and the two of us were getting very tired of each other. We started calling him Tiny T…short for tiny terrorist. I kept telling him we were just trying to keep him safe and happy, that he belonged inside and we couldn’t bear him running away again. But he wouldn’t listen. He was miserable…and so were we.
So we decided to try something different; we decided to let him go back outside. It scares us of course, because anything could happen. But you know what? The cat is his happy, healthy self again. He goes outside all day long and comes sauntering back in for dinner every night. I hear his little meow in the kitchen and know he’s decided to come home to us again. He climbs up in my lap on the couch and lets me pet him and love on him and he falls asleep happy instead of terrorizing everybody.
The thing is, he belongs outside. Even though it scares us because we love him and want him safe, we have to do what’s best and that means not locking him up. He’s meant to be wild and free…it’s the only way he can be happy.
I understand how he feels. I understand because I spend a lot of time looking outside through the glass. We work to have money to have things but the work and the money keep me inside away from the things that matter most to me. And watching the cat makes me wonder if I’m making a mistake with myself and the time I’ve been given.
Maybe the cat is right about smelling the flowers and chasing the butterflies, maybe he’s got life all figured out.
Sometimes you have to lose something to really understand just how valuable it is. It’s so easy to take things for granted, so easy to complain and grow dissatisfied with what we have. And then, when it’s taken away, we realize just how much we actually had to be thankful for.
Twice recently I’ve had something that was very important to me taken away. One of those things was later restored but not before I learned through heartache and tears to be thankful for what I had in the first place. The other thing has not been restored and I don’t know if it ever will be. What I do know is that losing these things taught me more than having them ever could.
Heartache is a terrible and brilliant teacher. I have learned much from the good things in my life, much more from the hard things. Perhaps it’s the desire to never go through such things again that moves us and makes us grow and change amid trouble.
In those moments when the things I loved and wanted were lost (and I’m not talking about material things, by the way) all I wanted was for life to go back to the way it was before that moment. I saw how good I had it, how much I had to be thankful for, and would have given anything to put it all back together as it was.
But even though I can’t change the way things are, I can learn and grow from the trouble—and really, it would be a waste not to.
This loss has humbled me; it has made me more thankful for what I had and what I still have. I hope these lessons stick. I hope I don’t have to learn the same hard lesson the same hard way.
I have much to be thankful for, a big beautiful life to live. God, help me never to forget.
“Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God do you
learn.” C.S. Lewis
We pack our things and run away to wide open spaces. We zip along from Massachusetts to Vermont. The people grow fewer and the trees multiply in number and variety and I always think it looks like God poured a packet of mixed seeds along the landscape and now trees and wild flowers pop up in colorful abundance.
We set up camp and sleep outdoors and it feels good to be close to the earth.
We sit under the trees and the sky and breathe in the outside air. The campfire smoke swirls around in our lungs and we are alive in this wild, outdoor space.
We gather around campfires and relax in the warmth of the mesmerizing flames.
We swim in the cold mountain water and tip toe along the river bed filling our pockets with river glass.
We ride bikes and stretch our legs and souls—shaking off the dust of life lived away from the woods.
I caught these sneaky little ninjas poking around my tent…
…And I couldn’t seem to shake the little savages….but as it turns out—I really, really love them.
God kissed the sky and it blushed pink at his touch.
And the sun set on our outdoor adventure for one more year and we all fell asleep under the starlit sky that seemed poked through with the light from another world.
“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”
Thoreau, Walden Pond
Sometimes I’m afraid to embrace change. Even if I’m not happy with the way things are, I’m afraid a change might leave me even more unhappy so I just leave things alone instead. But change and discomfort is often the road to growth and renewal. Sometimes we have to release our iron grasp on what we have to open our hands up, empty and ready, to something different and new.
I look back at my life, at the times when I let go of one thing and took hold of another, and I see how those times of risk and change helped me grow and move forward. And I think too that even if something hadn’t worked out the way I hoped, I still would likely have regretted not taking the chance more than I would have regretted the potential failure.
Right now I find myself in a holding pattern, afraid to move, afraid to try, afraid to speak—and it isn’t like me to be so paralyzed by fear. Why am I so afraid to move forward, to change, to speak? I don’t know.
I find this blog stands before me a frightful blank canvas and I’m so cautious to put up words, to speak my heart and open my soul in this space as I once did. I’m trying to face the fear, to say the words, to put myself out here once again.
I’ve hidden behind pictures and fluff but I thank you for your patience as I find my way back to the words, to the heart and soul of this space.
“Be like the bird who, pausing in her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing she hath wings.” Victor Hugo
Sometimes I look back at who I was a year ago or five years ago and I’m embarrassed by some of the things I said or did. The advent of social media doesn’t help either because now if my memory fails me, Facebook and even this blog will be here to remind me of my less than stellar self. Super.
Sometimes I want to gather up everyone who knew me before right now and apologize for all the stupid thing I ever said or did. I feel this urgency to explain to people that I’m different now, that I’m sorry and I’ve changed.
This is great except I’ll probably look back ten years from now at the person I am today and want to apologize all over again.
You see, if I’m moving in the right direction then hopefully I’m always growing and changing from who I am today into a more loving, mature person tomorrow. That’s a good thing. The bad thing is looking back and remembering who I was at a different place in the story. But what I’m trying to remember is this: There’s no need to be ashamed of who you were yesterday if you are becoming a better person today.
Yes, I’m sorry for some of the things I said or did in the past and I do hope people know that. But at the same time I’m glad to be aware of what I did wrong because hopefully that means I’ve learned and grown and am not still making the same mistakes today.
So don’t be ashamed of who you were; be proud of who you are becoming. If you can’t be proud of who you are becoming, then worry about that instead of the past.
“…But this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:13-14
I used to think everything in life had to be just so to be happy. But I’ve started to see just how jumbled up and messy life really is. Life is often both beautiful and heart wrenching at the same time. I would like life to be organized into tidy little boxes—the good stuff goes over here, the bad stuff stands alone over there. But that’s not how it usually works.
One night Darren and I were at the old house we’re remodeling. The sky was clear and the stars were sparkling over the fields without the obstruction of city lights to hide them. We pulled a piano bench out in the yard and sat there together under the stars dreaming and planning our life in this new place. We looked up at the sky and took in the stars that we so rarely get to see. While we sat there, chins up looking and dreaming, the most beautiful shooting star I have ever seen zipped by with a trail of flame behind it that you could actually see. I gasped out loud; I was so startled and delighted by it.
That moment with Darren on the piano bench under the stars was perfect. It’s a memory I’ll hold in my heart forever about a time when we were young and we were weaving our lives and dreams together.
But even as beautiful as that moment with Darren was, it’s a sad memory in my heart too. That same day my cousin’s little teenage daughter was killed in a car accident. On that same beautiful night under the stars, I remember pacing the driveway in the dark aching inside and praying for my cousin and my aunt and uncle. I couldn’t comprehend their pain and I couldn’t understand why so much hurt exists in the world.
That moment and that memory will always be bittersweet. It will always be one of my favorite memories with Darren and it will always remind me of my cousin and all she is going through; there is no way to separate the two.
That’s how life is—it’s beautiful and it’s heart breaking. What I’m starting to see is this: Life does not have to be perfectly happy or completely beautiful to be good. Life is a smattering of the good and the bad. It’s messy and complicated and beautiful all at the same time. And that’s okay.
When you’re a teenager, you know everything about life. Then you get a little older and start to think maybe you don’t know anything about life. Then you get a little older still and learn a few lessons the hard way and start to realize you do very much know a few things about life—not everything like when you were younger, but some things for certain.
Here’s what I know:
I know it takes a lot of time and work to build trust and just a moment to destroy it. Respect the position people give you in their heart and life and think before you do something stupid that could destroy everything you’ve built. It takes years to get to know someone and really learn how to love them. It takes seconds to throw everything away. Little things have the power to break down big things.
I know my perspective is not the only, nor necessarily, the right perspective. The world is huge and diverse. People are influenced by vastly different lifestyles and circumstances. It’s not fair to believe my particular lifestyle or circumstances give me the knowledge and authority to assume I’m right about everything and everyone. Yes, I hold to my beliefs and live according to what I believe is right. But in that I try to remember that I’m still learning and growing and so is everyone else. Besides, if we were all the same, the world would be profoundly boring.
I know compromise is not a bad word. Compromise is simply a gracious way of getting what you want and helping others get what they want too. Demanding that everything be done your way every time doesn’t make you powerful or put you in control, it makes you a jerk who will soon be doing everything your way…alone. If you want to be in any kind of successful relationship (work, marriage, friendship, family) then you will have to learn to give some and take some. Sometimes it’s right to speak up and have things your way when it really matters; sometimes it’s best to shut up and get Chinese instead of Mexican for dinner because people matter more than your particular preferences.
I know loving someone fully and truly is worth the heartache and risk. You can’t get close to someone and put your heart on the line without the near certainty of getting hurt somewhere along the way. But being close to someone and building a trusting, loving relationship is worth the bumps and scrapes. People aren’t perfect; they will hurt you. But people are also exactly what life is about and they are worth loving with abandon.
I know I have to take risks to accomplish my dreams and goals. Life is a series of stepping-stones. Moving from the safe and familiar into the unknown and uncertain is scary. But you cannot move forward or accomplish your goals by standing still in the same safe place. Life requires risk and fear and the occasional failure; that is how we grow. I have learned more from the stuff I screwed up than from anything I did right. So embrace the possibility of messing up and use your mistakes as an opportunity to learn and grow. Push through the fear and do it scared.
I know life does not come to those who wait, it belongs to those who take it. If you are standing around waiting for instructions or inspiration, I’ve got some bad news for you. Life happens in the moving and the making and the people who are doing what they want are just that—doing. So figure out what it is you want to do and get busy. Don’t be afraid to try, to stop and start again, to make mistakes along the way. Fear only the time wasted not doing whatever it is you are here to do.
I know money and things can make me happy but they cannot satisfy me. People sometimes say that money can’t make you happy; I disagree. I think money can make you very happy. Money can give you freedom, choices, and opportunity. Money can buy you whatever it is you want. But here’s the thing, there’s a difference between the happiness that comes from having stuff and the peace and satisfaction that have nothing to do with material things. Don’t mistake the two. Peace and satisfaction are soulful and immaterial; they are a choice and a mindset, not a particular house or cell phone.
I know to be a little bit cautious and cynical towards the media and anybody trying to sell me something. This is not to say you go around assuming the worst about everyone and everything. But I think it’s only smart and reasonable to take caution when anyone is trying to persuade you or gain something from you. The media is trying to sell you something—a lifestyle, a worldview, a product— so don’t mindlessly believe everything they say. Think for yourself about your values and beliefs and make choices based on that, not marketing.
I know for everything I want, there is something else I can’t have. The idea that anyone can have it all is unrealistic. No one has enough time or energy for everything. So you must learn to prioritize and choose. You must put down this to pick up that or you will burn out and lose out on everything in your life. It is important to discern what matters most to you and to let go of the things that distract from your priorities.
I know saying less is saying more. The world is very loud these days and there are ever-increasing ways to share your thoughts and opinions with everyone the world over. But here’s the thing, no one wants to know what you think about everything all the time. If you speak less, people will listen more when you do speak up about the things that matter most to you.
I know the people I surround myself with will deeply influence me. The people we spend time with and listen to will have a deep impact on what we value and who we become. This isn’t a bad thing unless you surround yourself with people who are toxic. The right people can fill your life with truth, inspiration, and hope. The wrong people can slowly turn you into someone you don’t like. You are not above the influence of those around you. It is also important to know that you are influencing the people in your life too. Are you helping them or hurting them?
I know I don’t know everything and what I think I know might change :] I don’t ever want to stop learning and growing and sometimes that will mean letting go of things I thought I knew…and that’s okay.
“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” -Rumi
Outside Air 