I turned 33 this year. The definitions of age are shifting in my generation, so that "young" is different than it was for my parents or my grandparents, and "old" has moved further back than it was in the past. People say things like "40 is the new 20!" which I think means that people hitting their forties are still as youthful and exciting as twenty year olds. Not like my parents, who were packing their children off to college and preparing to be "empty nesters" when they hit forty.
So maybe 33 is still "young" and maybe (given genetics) I'm only a third of the way through my life, but I feel like I have hit the "middle age". Not just because my knees click when I climb stairs (which they never used to do) or because I started wearing a swim skirt (the better to hide my lumpy mom body!), but because the time to figure out who I am seems to be over. I can still try new things and experiment and fail and pick myself back up, but I have to do this in the middle of a life being lived. I can't change course quickly, because I have a family that goes along with me, and I have to factor in everyone's needs, not just my own.
At 20, I could try a new hobby and decide if I liked it or not. I could spend all day reading or watching tv with no guilt. I could move to Tennessee and then back to Ohio when I felt like it. I could eat an entire bag of chips or stay up all night or suddenly decide to bike 10 miles with no consequences. But now? Now I'm in the middle. Now the consequences of disengaging from the world are cranky kids and huge laundry piles and late bills. Now I feel the effects of what I ate or how I slept or what crazy thing I tried to put my body through for days. All of this leads me to believe (no matter what the magazine covers say) that I have transitioned into the middle of my life.
So all of this is well and good, except I've heard about this thing called a "mid-life crisis". Those never go well. That's the time when people spend crazy amounts of money on sports cars or leave their spouse for someone else or travel to India to prove they can still have adventures. But I'm wondering what has to happen to go from realizing and accepting that my life has reached the middle to a full-blown, poor decision making crisis. I mean, I love my minivan. I love my husband. I love staying at home and not contracting some flesh-eating virus from, I don't know, dirty ashram water. Maybe I'll be lucky and miss the "crisis" part of aging. Wouldn't that be nice?
I was listening to "Coffee with Christine Caine", my new favorite podcast (because, hello, Christine Caine, and also they are about 10 minutes long which is about how much time I have to do anything for myself this summer), and she was talking about embracing new things and being innovative in our thinking. She said something interesting, which is that being old happens when you get stuck in your ways and close off to new thinking. According to Chris, there is no numerical age when you get old; a 26 year old can be old if he refuses to accept change and adapt to new circumstances. Likewise, an 80 year old can still be skirting the young side if she is willing to try new things. I witnessed that this past year when I signed up for a women's Bible study at a local church. I joined my group the first day and was a little surprised at the white haired woman who announced herself as our leader. She said, "My name is Betty and I've never done anything like this before, but I was asked if I would be willing to lead a group and so here I am." Over the course of 25 weeks, Betty challenged my ideas about age and what people are capable of. She doesn't drive after dark and she gets nervous when the sidewalk is icy, but she did her research each week and she kept our group on topic as we discussed the Life of Moses together.
Here I am, in the middle. No longer an untethered young woman with the world at her feet and opportunity hanging like fruit from a tree. Not yet a grumpy old lady shaking her fist at kids on skateboards and bemoaning "the good old days". I'm navigating the middle of life, finding time to try new experiences between the demands and responsibilities of all I've been given. To accept the limitations while continuing to dream.
Showing posts with label habit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label habit. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Monday, June 1, 2015
On Planting and Sowing
A garden has two kinds of growth. The first is the kind I like: plant a seed in spring, reap a harvest in summer, and the plant dies in the fall. This happens with herbs, with vegetables, with tomatoes. Sometimes a plant springs up the following year (my friend calls these "volunteers") when a seed from the previous year has fallen on fertile earth and creates something new. I like it because you put in a little work, you get a pretty quick yield. In only a matter of weeks, you have plump tomatoes and zesty herbs ripe for the picking, and you get to cook for a few months off this fresh produce from your own yard.
The second kind is harder for me, not because it's more work, but because it requires patience. See, the second kind, generally fruits and flowers and trees, takes years to produce. You drop a seed in the ground (or an indoor container) and the first year you watch it sprout and grow up. I did this with strawberries. The next spring, you have a plant, and that summer you might be lucky to get some produce. Maybe 3 strawberries. After the first year, I pulled the strawberry plants out the same as I did for the tomatoes, thinking I'd had a bust year. Then my farmer grandpa told me I needed to leave them in the garden. To let winter come and wait. Now the following spring, the third, or even fourth year that you have been tending this plant, you start to get some good yield. You get pints of strawberries, you get bushels of peaches. And with a little work, some pruning, some watering, you will continue to reap from this plant that took so much more time to grow.
I went out in the yard and picked 25 strawberries today. That's in addition to the 20 or so I picked yesterday, the 15 I picked the day before that. And there are still more growing on the plants. I don't like to wait, to tend something that isn't immediately producing. Yet I am reaping the benefits of long-term gardening this summer. This analogy fits more areas of my life than I care to admit. The visible, short term results are the ones I like. The steady praise of a paycheck and a job with a definite start and end...so much more preferable than the daily work of raising children and developing a marriage, which pays nothing and only shows results after years of hard labor. The work I can do on my own, whose gain is mine alone, I would choose over the efforts of a group, helping the ones who are straggling. The thing I already know I can do, rather than the new thing that I will fail at before I get better. What is safe instead of what requires risk.
There is a passage of Galatians which is very popular to teach to children about the Fruit of the Spirit. Sunday school teachers use construction paper images of fruit and write them out: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. No matter what your religion, we can all agree that these are admirable traits. But note that they are called "fruit", implying that these are things which do not grow overnight, but must be cultivated year after year in order to be present in our lives?
I set a goal for myself this year, to develop better habits. Most of it boils down to this quick turnaround, the easy out, the candy bar instead an apple, the evening spent in front of the computer rather than face to face with another person. And yet my pastor keeps repeating this verse from Isaiah-- "Behold I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." God is all about breaking old patterns and making things new again. So I need to be as well. There's been lots planted in my life, gifts and privilege and accessibility. I need to look for long term fruit, for the berries that don't come quickly and easily. I need to tend the plants that take many seasons to produce.
The second kind is harder for me, not because it's more work, but because it requires patience. See, the second kind, generally fruits and flowers and trees, takes years to produce. You drop a seed in the ground (or an indoor container) and the first year you watch it sprout and grow up. I did this with strawberries. The next spring, you have a plant, and that summer you might be lucky to get some produce. Maybe 3 strawberries. After the first year, I pulled the strawberry plants out the same as I did for the tomatoes, thinking I'd had a bust year. Then my farmer grandpa told me I needed to leave them in the garden. To let winter come and wait. Now the following spring, the third, or even fourth year that you have been tending this plant, you start to get some good yield. You get pints of strawberries, you get bushels of peaches. And with a little work, some pruning, some watering, you will continue to reap from this plant that took so much more time to grow.
I went out in the yard and picked 25 strawberries today. That's in addition to the 20 or so I picked yesterday, the 15 I picked the day before that. And there are still more growing on the plants. I don't like to wait, to tend something that isn't immediately producing. Yet I am reaping the benefits of long-term gardening this summer. This analogy fits more areas of my life than I care to admit. The visible, short term results are the ones I like. The steady praise of a paycheck and a job with a definite start and end...so much more preferable than the daily work of raising children and developing a marriage, which pays nothing and only shows results after years of hard labor. The work I can do on my own, whose gain is mine alone, I would choose over the efforts of a group, helping the ones who are straggling. The thing I already know I can do, rather than the new thing that I will fail at before I get better. What is safe instead of what requires risk.
There is a passage of Galatians which is very popular to teach to children about the Fruit of the Spirit. Sunday school teachers use construction paper images of fruit and write them out: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. No matter what your religion, we can all agree that these are admirable traits. But note that they are called "fruit", implying that these are things which do not grow overnight, but must be cultivated year after year in order to be present in our lives?
I set a goal for myself this year, to develop better habits. Most of it boils down to this quick turnaround, the easy out, the candy bar instead an apple, the evening spent in front of the computer rather than face to face with another person. And yet my pastor keeps repeating this verse from Isaiah-- "Behold I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." God is all about breaking old patterns and making things new again. So I need to be as well. There's been lots planted in my life, gifts and privilege and accessibility. I need to look for long term fruit, for the berries that don't come quickly and easily. I need to tend the plants that take many seasons to produce.
Thursday, May 7, 2015
What I've Learned (About Writing)
I am a writer. (deep exhale) That's not something I say out loud, like ever. But I'm finally starting to believe it enough to think it. I am always quick to encourage someone else and also quick to discount my own gifts/talents. I tell myself that anyone can do what I do. Maybe that's true, but I'm beginning to see that, although others can, not everyone does.
So, my beautiful writer friends (Amber and Deanna!), here is what I've learned...
1. Writing is a way of life. As soon as I learned how to form letters, I began to write. I have kept diaries and journals, written short stories and term papers, love letters and bad poetry. Writing has always been part of me. Then, five or six years ago, when I found myself without many friends and with deep, dark thoughts bubbling inside me, I grabbed a pen and a half-blank notebook and I began to write all the things I couldn't say. So, while blogging may be relatively new, writing has always been there.
2. Writing is solitary. This is good news for those of us who are beginning something, learning and honing our craft. No one else will read what you write. The only critics are the ones marching around in your own brain. You get to take years to get better, to get to the point when you want to share your writing. And all that time, your writing is evolving. This can also be bad news for those of us who listen too much to our inner critics, who tremble at the blinking cursor and turn off the computer without entering a single word. There is no one else who will do the work for you, there is no one to point out the obvious (stop listening to the voices that say you suck), there is no one to congratulate you on finishing your latest piece. Write anyway.
3. Writing brings community. That's right...it's lonely work and it will bring you closer to other people. Other writers who will edit and encourage, who will share their knowledge and commiserate with you. Readers who will connect with your words and get to know the YOU that is sometimes hidden in everyday life. And, of course, the external critics who don't like you or what you think or how you see the world. Yay!
4. Writing is therapy. Before I can say it, I can write it. All those deep, dark thoughts I mentioned in #1? I wrote them down to get them out and begin to process. Then I showed them to my husband because I couldn't tell him how I was feeling but I could write about how I was feeling. Only after I have come to terms with what is happening, once I can stand on the other side and admit the truth do I share it with everyone else. What if I'd never found writing? Good Lord, can you even imagine the kind of insanely crazed woman I would be today? Thank you paper, for being readily available and infinitely cheaper than a psychiatrist.
5. Writing is an escape. I spend all day with little people...have I mentioned that in the last five minutes? Writing during nap time, after dinner, on weekends, in the car line, etc lets me leave this sometimes chaotic life and disappear into a world of my own creation, where there are no messes to clean and no homework to check and everyone does exactly what I want them to do (or else they get deleted!). Writing is a mini-vacation that happens inside my head and pours out onto paper.
6. Writing can't be everything. Even as I bemoan the people who interfere with my writing and slow down my work, I have to point out that I had nothing worth writing until those people came into my life. If I was some single lady writing at Starbucks after work, I would be staring at a blank screen. So there has to be life beyond the words. There has to be some real living going on to provide material and inspiration. There have to be books in hand and tickles freely given and walks in the quiet spring evenings and endless loads of laundry or there would be no words. I've also learned that some men don't like falling asleep with their wife and her notebook. So live first, write second.
7. Every writer requires her own fuel. When I sit down to write, my favorite things are a quiet house, Hot Tamales, Suri's Burn Book (surisburnbook.tumblr.com), Pandora Love Songs, and Cinnamon Dolce lattes.
 |
| Getting lots of writing done |
So, my beautiful writer friends (Amber and Deanna!), here is what I've learned...
1. Writing is a way of life. As soon as I learned how to form letters, I began to write. I have kept diaries and journals, written short stories and term papers, love letters and bad poetry. Writing has always been part of me. Then, five or six years ago, when I found myself without many friends and with deep, dark thoughts bubbling inside me, I grabbed a pen and a half-blank notebook and I began to write all the things I couldn't say. So, while blogging may be relatively new, writing has always been there.
2. Writing is solitary. This is good news for those of us who are beginning something, learning and honing our craft. No one else will read what you write. The only critics are the ones marching around in your own brain. You get to take years to get better, to get to the point when you want to share your writing. And all that time, your writing is evolving. This can also be bad news for those of us who listen too much to our inner critics, who tremble at the blinking cursor and turn off the computer without entering a single word. There is no one else who will do the work for you, there is no one to point out the obvious (stop listening to the voices that say you suck), there is no one to congratulate you on finishing your latest piece. Write anyway.
3. Writing brings community. That's right...it's lonely work and it will bring you closer to other people. Other writers who will edit and encourage, who will share their knowledge and commiserate with you. Readers who will connect with your words and get to know the YOU that is sometimes hidden in everyday life. And, of course, the external critics who don't like you or what you think or how you see the world. Yay!
4. Writing is therapy. Before I can say it, I can write it. All those deep, dark thoughts I mentioned in #1? I wrote them down to get them out and begin to process. Then I showed them to my husband because I couldn't tell him how I was feeling but I could write about how I was feeling. Only after I have come to terms with what is happening, once I can stand on the other side and admit the truth do I share it with everyone else. What if I'd never found writing? Good Lord, can you even imagine the kind of insanely crazed woman I would be today? Thank you paper, for being readily available and infinitely cheaper than a psychiatrist.
5. Writing is an escape. I spend all day with little people...have I mentioned that in the last five minutes? Writing during nap time, after dinner, on weekends, in the car line, etc lets me leave this sometimes chaotic life and disappear into a world of my own creation, where there are no messes to clean and no homework to check and everyone does exactly what I want them to do (or else they get deleted!). Writing is a mini-vacation that happens inside my head and pours out onto paper.
6. Writing can't be everything. Even as I bemoan the people who interfere with my writing and slow down my work, I have to point out that I had nothing worth writing until those people came into my life. If I was some single lady writing at Starbucks after work, I would be staring at a blank screen. So there has to be life beyond the words. There has to be some real living going on to provide material and inspiration. There have to be books in hand and tickles freely given and walks in the quiet spring evenings and endless loads of laundry or there would be no words. I've also learned that some men don't like falling asleep with their wife and her notebook. So live first, write second.
7. Every writer requires her own fuel. When I sit down to write, my favorite things are a quiet house, Hot Tamales, Suri's Burn Book (surisburnbook.tumblr.com), Pandora Love Songs, and Cinnamon Dolce lattes.
 |
| Caffeine and Sugar!! |
Thursday, January 1, 2015
2014 is Finished
Instead of making New Year's Resolutions this past year, I chose a word that I wanted to weave it's way throughout the year and define how I spent my time. The word was finish. In July, I wrote, "Because I'm good at quitting. I've done that my whole life. This is too hard. This is confusing. This is potentially great, which is even scarier than hard or confusing. So I quit...It's time to stretch and be someone who can be counted on. It's time to do the showing up, especially when it's hard. It's time to stay engaged with my family, with my friends, with my passions."
2014 is over. How did I do? Well, I can honestly say that I finished. I stuck with some things that were hard, I followed through with things that were scary, and I don't feel like a quitter anymore. I finished a writing project and started a new one. I ran/walked my first 5k. I kept taking care of my foster daughter until the county decided to move her back with her birth family. I read several books. I hosted an If:Gathering. I dyed a chunk of my hair blue. But if I could pick a word for the past year with my hindsight glasses on, I would choose the word growth. Because guess what happened when I resolved to finish? I grew. I learned more about myself, I realized that I can do some things I didn't know I could, I discovered those reserves that people always talk about. And I learned how to refill myself after pouring it all out. I learned that I needed to give and then retreat to a quiet place to receive. I'm claiming victory over this year.
Now, what to choose for the new year...
Lately I've been kind of frustrated with myself. I've been engaging in that negative self-talk that mental health professionals discourage. Have you ever been advised to talk to yourself like you would a friend? Because we'll be unkind and abusive and neglectful of ourselves, but when we talk to our friends we are encouraging and protective. I've been thinking about that as I berate myself. See, the new thing is I've made these realizations about the person I want to be, the way I want to live. But it's been hard to change course and act on it. But I'm a person of action, I tell myself. Once I make up my mind, I follow through. I want to eat healthier, but I still am drawn to that daily Coke and cupboard of candy. I want to spend less on stupid stuff and save for the important things, but the savings account keeps losing money each month. I want to live in a clutter-free house, but those hoarding genes stop me from throwing away the 20 drawings Winston made yesterday.
How would I talk to a friend who confessed this to me? Certainly not how I've been talking to myself. I would tell my friend it's okay to fail sometimes. I would tell her that every day is another chance to get it right. I would tell my friend that some habits are harder to break than others. I would tell my friend to look at how far she's come already. Because a year ago, I drank 3 (or more) Cokes a day. A year ago, every stress in my day drove me to Sonic for a half-price soda or Wendy's for chili cheese fries or Walmart to make a frivolous purchase. So I'm down to significantly less pop (and sugar and calories...) and about once a week I manage not to drink any at all. When I feel stress, I practice deep breathing and pray and count to ten and walk away (mostly). Most weeks I've stuck to my budgeting trick of only using a small amount of cash for fast food purchases, and then stopping once the money is gone. So that's progress. That's better than what it used to be.
I would also tell my friend to look at my wonderful son James. I would tell her about how we took him to the dentist for the first time about a year ago, because he really struggles with stuff that happens around his face and head (hair cuts, teeth cleaning, etc). But we found a dentist willing to work with him to get the cleanings done and help him be comfortable. That dentist found a cavity in one of his teeth and pulled it, as well as giving us orders to take better care of his mouth. She asked us to: 1. Help him brush every day, 2. Use a fluoride rinse after brushing, and 3. Floss regularly. I literally had to force the fluoride rinse in his mouth the first time. My husband held him upright and I pinched his nose so he would have to open his mouth and then we dumped the rinse in, and he promptly spit it out. We didn't give up, because it was more important that his adult teeth (growing in NOW) last and help him eat food for the next 70-80 years. He used his fluoride rinse every day, and I kept battling him to floss. And today? He voluntarily brushes his teeth (mostly) and rinses, and he has even started helping me floss. That's progress. With consistency and continuity, good oral hygiene will be something he owns someday. If a 7 year old is capable of changing over time and developing new habits, then so is his mother.
And this is how I came up with my word for 2015: habit. Finishing and growing was great, but it's so last year. Now I want to develop good habits. I want the good things I know I should be doing to become regular parts of my life. A year from now, I want to say that eating healthy foods and drinking water are so common place that I don't have to think about it. I want to say that spending wisely is the only way I know to use my money. So here we go...
2014 is over. How did I do? Well, I can honestly say that I finished. I stuck with some things that were hard, I followed through with things that were scary, and I don't feel like a quitter anymore. I finished a writing project and started a new one. I ran/walked my first 5k. I kept taking care of my foster daughter until the county decided to move her back with her birth family. I read several books. I hosted an If:Gathering. I dyed a chunk of my hair blue. But if I could pick a word for the past year with my hindsight glasses on, I would choose the word growth. Because guess what happened when I resolved to finish? I grew. I learned more about myself, I realized that I can do some things I didn't know I could, I discovered those reserves that people always talk about. And I learned how to refill myself after pouring it all out. I learned that I needed to give and then retreat to a quiet place to receive. I'm claiming victory over this year.
 |
| Dare to have blue hair |
Now, what to choose for the new year...
Lately I've been kind of frustrated with myself. I've been engaging in that negative self-talk that mental health professionals discourage. Have you ever been advised to talk to yourself like you would a friend? Because we'll be unkind and abusive and neglectful of ourselves, but when we talk to our friends we are encouraging and protective. I've been thinking about that as I berate myself. See, the new thing is I've made these realizations about the person I want to be, the way I want to live. But it's been hard to change course and act on it. But I'm a person of action, I tell myself. Once I make up my mind, I follow through. I want to eat healthier, but I still am drawn to that daily Coke and cupboard of candy. I want to spend less on stupid stuff and save for the important things, but the savings account keeps losing money each month. I want to live in a clutter-free house, but those hoarding genes stop me from throwing away the 20 drawings Winston made yesterday.
How would I talk to a friend who confessed this to me? Certainly not how I've been talking to myself. I would tell my friend it's okay to fail sometimes. I would tell her that every day is another chance to get it right. I would tell my friend that some habits are harder to break than others. I would tell my friend to look at how far she's come already. Because a year ago, I drank 3 (or more) Cokes a day. A year ago, every stress in my day drove me to Sonic for a half-price soda or Wendy's for chili cheese fries or Walmart to make a frivolous purchase. So I'm down to significantly less pop (and sugar and calories...) and about once a week I manage not to drink any at all. When I feel stress, I practice deep breathing and pray and count to ten and walk away (mostly). Most weeks I've stuck to my budgeting trick of only using a small amount of cash for fast food purchases, and then stopping once the money is gone. So that's progress. That's better than what it used to be.
 |
| Out with the old, in with the new |
I would also tell my friend to look at my wonderful son James. I would tell her about how we took him to the dentist for the first time about a year ago, because he really struggles with stuff that happens around his face and head (hair cuts, teeth cleaning, etc). But we found a dentist willing to work with him to get the cleanings done and help him be comfortable. That dentist found a cavity in one of his teeth and pulled it, as well as giving us orders to take better care of his mouth. She asked us to: 1. Help him brush every day, 2. Use a fluoride rinse after brushing, and 3. Floss regularly. I literally had to force the fluoride rinse in his mouth the first time. My husband held him upright and I pinched his nose so he would have to open his mouth and then we dumped the rinse in, and he promptly spit it out. We didn't give up, because it was more important that his adult teeth (growing in NOW) last and help him eat food for the next 70-80 years. He used his fluoride rinse every day, and I kept battling him to floss. And today? He voluntarily brushes his teeth (mostly) and rinses, and he has even started helping me floss. That's progress. With consistency and continuity, good oral hygiene will be something he owns someday. If a 7 year old is capable of changing over time and developing new habits, then so is his mother.
And this is how I came up with my word for 2015: habit. Finishing and growing was great, but it's so last year. Now I want to develop good habits. I want the good things I know I should be doing to become regular parts of my life. A year from now, I want to say that eating healthy foods and drinking water are so common place that I don't have to think about it. I want to say that spending wisely is the only way I know to use my money. So here we go...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)