I was recently on the telephone with a friend relaying something that qualified as low key drama in my household. Nothing serious, and certainly nothing that needs to be elaborated on here, but it was enough for me to place a telephone call to a trusted friend who can always be counted on to give me some perspective. Between bouts of exhaustion, sinus trouble, disorganization and the dreaded "personal summers" I've been saddled with lately...I occasionally enter the realm of the irrational.
Because this friend has multiple daughters, she pretty much has the equivalent of a PhD in "drama." Plus, there's the added bonus that she can usually trump my mini-drama with whatever is going on in her world. She doesn't mind if I call and whine because she knows that she's welcome to return the favor. Besides, if I don't get comforted or reassured...I'll generally at least get entertained.
I have another friend who has a daughter three years ahead of mine. It is like having an early warning system for most everything. Occasionally, she calls and tells me of her daughter's latest escapade and reminds me to pay attention to her newest "lesson learned" so that I don't get blindsided somewhere down the highway of life. I've dodged numerous bullets that she's taken head-on because she warned me ahead of time to put on the vest, so to speak. I'm extraordinarily grateful for her role as a drama-minimizer in my life.
Drama is something that I have grown up with...well...literally. I was born into a family of performers and I have sat in the audience for a fair amount of time during my early years. While there's something a little bit cool about having a mother that is such a good actress that you forget that she's actually your mother while she's performing, it was also just a wee bit unusual and certainly made for an interesting upbringing. I suppose that's why some drama seems a little bit contrived to me. I guess I think I'm just watching another production.
Tonight's drama at my household involved the difficulty experienced in learning the first eighteen lines of "The Canterbury Tales" in middle English. There really are no words to describe this particular horror nor some of the strong objections to this exercise that I actually want to record or dwell on. But when I think that this child will be in college in less than a year, I'm laughing to myself a bit knowing that learning this junk is the least of his worries. He just doesn't know it yet. Can't wait until he gets his first "English-as-a-second-or-third-or-whatever-language" professor. Yeah, that's going to be fun (not).
Drama is one of those things that seems to follow some people for a season, and other people pretty much indefinitely. Some of my friends have the most hilarious things happen to them because they seem to just be living and breathing testimonies of the truth contained in "Murphy's Law." Oh, I know it is not funny WHILE it is happening, and I am very careful not to laugh. But afterward? Oh!...HILARIOUS. These folks are generally also gifted storytellers...which makes it even better.
I've avoided reality television (as much as Big Dave will allow me to escape it) because I honestly don't need any more drama in my life than is already present. Plus, a few years ago, I had the experience of dealing with a woman who "got all up in my business" and made me appreciate my normally mundane existence. She was a self-described "rebel" and seemed to think that I wasn't a very good mother because I was nice to her child. Believe me...being nice can easily be confused with trying to take them to raise if you are crazy enough. There are many more comments that I could make all these years later...but let's just say that I fired her a letter explaining my side of things after being mortified by a visit she made to my workplace. Yes, you read that right...my workplace. TWICE.
Frankly, THAT was enough drama to last me awhile. Like...a long while. Possibly forever. Yeah, like THAT is going to happen. Part of being of a "certain age" is the knowledge that you can make hormonally induced mountains out of molehills. Big time.
I suppose that I believe a stable existence without all of the drama might be nice. But in my opinion, "stable" is sometimes synonymous with "boring." Not that I have any desire to conjure up any drama. It seems to find me without a GPS.
For better or worse...our moments of "drama" are part of the whole of living in this world. And, thankfully, we can sometimes be spectators on the sidelines of "drama-rama" without actually getting in the fray. If we're lucky...
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
On Cruelty
Last night, I went to see the movie "You Again" with Jamie Lee Curtis, Sigourney Weaver, Betty White, and a host of other actors that I know. The premise was that there was a girl who made one of the characters' life miserable in high school...and the rivalry never went completely away. The characters scrapped it out in funny and predictable ways...and most of us would recognize one or the other of the characters...the tormentor or the tormented.
I think that everyone at some point in time has encountered cruelty. Maybe it was an offhand comment that unintentionally took root in our hearts, a snubbing because we couldn't keep up, or obvious bullying. Maybe we just thought that someone was weird, had cooties, or was so out of the mainstream that we just couldn't accept them...not realizing that a few years later - in college - that there was a different lifestyle in every dorm room. Or maybe we were new to a school in a small town, had some label attached to us because of the behavior of someone related to us, or were so sure that everyone was out to get us that it eventually became a self fulfilling prophecy.
We've all encountered it, though. On one side or the other...or both.
I know that some people have a stronger need to be in the spotlight than others. Negative attention is better than no attention at all, and so they will play along with whatever other people are dishing out. I remember junior high and seeing one poor unfortunate soul getting the brunt of almost everyone's disdain. Some of it he brought on himself, but I have to say that I'm convinced that the majority of it...he did not. He was just very different and not particularly friendly. I don't know why one kid is picked out to be swallowed by the masses, and why perfectly nice children feel the need to pick on the weakest one. But they do...and this happens. What children don't know...but adults do...is that for most of us...it is a hidden shame that we carry around for having participated in such behavior. And there is rarely anything that you can do to make it better. Except teach your children well and hope that they don't participate when that test lies before them or stopping it when you see it.
Other times, there are people that stand out due to natural gifts, abilities, or just pure chance. The Homecoming Queens, star football players, and whiz kids who get scholarships to wherever they choose to go. Some of the time, these lucky few are such wonderful people that people love and respect because they are more star-struck than envious. But sadly, for most, they live a little isolated because their success means that the jealous souls who surround them feel free to try to knock them down a peg. Or two.
In the "girl world" the cruelty can be devastating. Cases have recently gone to court because a girl dared to have a boyfriend that someone else laid claim to or because she was so different that everyone felt it was fine to dump on her. Usually, these cases do not end well, and end up in the national spotlight. The pain that they cause is just unnecessarily cruel. Then, when something awful happens, it just keeps on coming because the ones who are participating in this behavior are so far in that they can't even see the error of their ways. And they think it is hilarious to see them get what they "deserve". As if they are adequate judge and jury.
Sadly, sometimes parents get on the bandwagon. Someone makes a mistake early or is just too much of a threat for their daughters...and she gets labeled. You want to knock a girl out of competition for anything? Call her a slut, and then attempt to back it up with a little bit of circumstantial evidence. Whether it is true or not true...nobody really cares. The deed is done...game over. If the mistake is large enough...it is all that anybody really remembers about her.
Most people feel their hearts ripped out of their chests if they see an animal who is the victim of cruelty. Locally, a man went to prison for a very long time for pain he inflicted on a dog he owned. Everyone felt that the punishment fit the crime. And I'm not arguing that.
But what about the pain our words and deeds toward people causes? Are our hearts ripped out of our chest over that? What about the careless words that we speak because we are envious, angry, or just plain mean? Shouldn't we be punished for those as well?
Most of the time, we are not. And the recipient is told to suck it up, get over it, and that this is the way life is. And that's somewhat true. But how about the next time that we feel that familiar feeling that shows we might be headed toward saying or doing something that could hurt someone else...that we pray very hard that we will either turn away from it or fast forward twenty years to see if it is something that might turn into a huge regret later on? Because that would cut out a great deal of pain in this world.
I'm not talking about people who bring it on themselves by putting being different in our faces front and center and we are simply commenting on it. That's an entirely different ball of wax. I'm also not talking about matural competition when we are toe to toe in the heat of competition and doing a little bit of trash talking. We pretty much expect that kind of thing.
I think that most of us are good people at heart. We may see someone being left out or treated poorly and we'll step in to try to make it right. But the truly lucky people are those who stand in the gap for others against unfairness and ridicule...even if some of it tends to slosh out onto themselves. These are the ones who will live with fewer regrets and no baggage to unpack in a therapist's office one day. If you have one of these people in your life...you are lucky indeed.
So, if you have been one of those people who has tried to overcome who you were...bravo. Or if you were on the other side of it and used it to propel you to greater heights to show "them" your worth...good for you. I personally believe that God doesn't allow our tears to be wasted. Whatever we endured will be used mightily. And whatever we dished out will be used to remind us to protect others in similar circumstances.
Or at least it should.
I think that everyone at some point in time has encountered cruelty. Maybe it was an offhand comment that unintentionally took root in our hearts, a snubbing because we couldn't keep up, or obvious bullying. Maybe we just thought that someone was weird, had cooties, or was so out of the mainstream that we just couldn't accept them...not realizing that a few years later - in college - that there was a different lifestyle in every dorm room. Or maybe we were new to a school in a small town, had some label attached to us because of the behavior of someone related to us, or were so sure that everyone was out to get us that it eventually became a self fulfilling prophecy.
We've all encountered it, though. On one side or the other...or both.
I know that some people have a stronger need to be in the spotlight than others. Negative attention is better than no attention at all, and so they will play along with whatever other people are dishing out. I remember junior high and seeing one poor unfortunate soul getting the brunt of almost everyone's disdain. Some of it he brought on himself, but I have to say that I'm convinced that the majority of it...he did not. He was just very different and not particularly friendly. I don't know why one kid is picked out to be swallowed by the masses, and why perfectly nice children feel the need to pick on the weakest one. But they do...and this happens. What children don't know...but adults do...is that for most of us...it is a hidden shame that we carry around for having participated in such behavior. And there is rarely anything that you can do to make it better. Except teach your children well and hope that they don't participate when that test lies before them or stopping it when you see it.
Other times, there are people that stand out due to natural gifts, abilities, or just pure chance. The Homecoming Queens, star football players, and whiz kids who get scholarships to wherever they choose to go. Some of the time, these lucky few are such wonderful people that people love and respect because they are more star-struck than envious. But sadly, for most, they live a little isolated because their success means that the jealous souls who surround them feel free to try to knock them down a peg. Or two.
In the "girl world" the cruelty can be devastating. Cases have recently gone to court because a girl dared to have a boyfriend that someone else laid claim to or because she was so different that everyone felt it was fine to dump on her. Usually, these cases do not end well, and end up in the national spotlight. The pain that they cause is just unnecessarily cruel. Then, when something awful happens, it just keeps on coming because the ones who are participating in this behavior are so far in that they can't even see the error of their ways. And they think it is hilarious to see them get what they "deserve". As if they are adequate judge and jury.
Sadly, sometimes parents get on the bandwagon. Someone makes a mistake early or is just too much of a threat for their daughters...and she gets labeled. You want to knock a girl out of competition for anything? Call her a slut, and then attempt to back it up with a little bit of circumstantial evidence. Whether it is true or not true...nobody really cares. The deed is done...game over. If the mistake is large enough...it is all that anybody really remembers about her.
Most people feel their hearts ripped out of their chests if they see an animal who is the victim of cruelty. Locally, a man went to prison for a very long time for pain he inflicted on a dog he owned. Everyone felt that the punishment fit the crime. And I'm not arguing that.
But what about the pain our words and deeds toward people causes? Are our hearts ripped out of our chest over that? What about the careless words that we speak because we are envious, angry, or just plain mean? Shouldn't we be punished for those as well?
Most of the time, we are not. And the recipient is told to suck it up, get over it, and that this is the way life is. And that's somewhat true. But how about the next time that we feel that familiar feeling that shows we might be headed toward saying or doing something that could hurt someone else...that we pray very hard that we will either turn away from it or fast forward twenty years to see if it is something that might turn into a huge regret later on? Because that would cut out a great deal of pain in this world.
I'm not talking about people who bring it on themselves by putting being different in our faces front and center and we are simply commenting on it. That's an entirely different ball of wax. I'm also not talking about matural competition when we are toe to toe in the heat of competition and doing a little bit of trash talking. We pretty much expect that kind of thing.
I think that most of us are good people at heart. We may see someone being left out or treated poorly and we'll step in to try to make it right. But the truly lucky people are those who stand in the gap for others against unfairness and ridicule...even if some of it tends to slosh out onto themselves. These are the ones who will live with fewer regrets and no baggage to unpack in a therapist's office one day. If you have one of these people in your life...you are lucky indeed.
So, if you have been one of those people who has tried to overcome who you were...bravo. Or if you were on the other side of it and used it to propel you to greater heights to show "them" your worth...good for you. I personally believe that God doesn't allow our tears to be wasted. Whatever we endured will be used mightily. And whatever we dished out will be used to remind us to protect others in similar circumstances.
Or at least it should.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Optimism
The other day I was riding down the highway of life and heard the line from an old Joe Walsh song on the radio..."I can't complain but sometimes I still do..." and had to laugh to myself. And frankly...AT myself as well. Some days I can be as grateful for every blessing that God has bestowed upon me to the "nth" degree, and then the next moment...I really need some cheese with my whine.
I'm actually a really huge optimist. Okay, I hear those of you who know me really well laughing hysterically right now. Just hang with me for a minute while I clarify that statement just a tad. It's like this: I will always initially see the bright side...the glorious possibilities...the immense wonder of it all. I will see the best possible outcome, the Hallmark movie ending, and the memory that should last a lifetime in every circumstance.
Always. Without fail.
I do realize that this is not the Reality Express I'm on, but it is the way I'm wired. In fact, my mother used to brace herself for whatever I was about to get all enthusiastic about...because she knew that the likelihood of it ending well was equal to discovering calorie-free Ben & Jerry's that tastes as awesome as the real stuff. Possible (I hope)...but ridiculously unlikely.
Those of us who see the best possible outcome as a general rule also (at some point) spend a lot of time ticked off that the rest of the world doesn't share our view and isn't cooperating. We think that we know what will make us happy, what needs to change, and who needs to be doing what where and when. I had a coworker who once nicknamed me "Our Lady of Perpetual Disappointment"...because I always seemed to be mourning some colossal failure or another...most of it a result of wishing that things were different and being unappreciative of what was going well. I finally got enough of it, started turning it over to God, and realized that the only person that I have any control over at all is myself. And some days even that is iffy.
Eventually, if we are lucky, we will find that occasionally things work out far better than we think they will. We finally let go of our expectations and simply let things be what they are. After years of being buffeted around, my current modus operandi is hoping for the best...but preparing for the worst.
After a lot of life experience involving colossal "fails" and major disappointments I still allow myself to just get all excited for about two minutes. I love those two minutes. I mean...why not get all fired up about life?
Immediately following the elation, I launch into some "Sergeant Friday" mode that makes me want to ferret out what is likely to go wrong. Because in my personal experience...this isn't just optional...it's mandatory. I have a strong ability to make the most of whatever comes...but this is because I've already rehearsed a great deal of what could possibly go wrong already in my head. Based on this...I prepare. I'm often the one with the safety pins, Bandaids, Chapstick, extra toothbrush, camera, cash, or whatever. Yes, I do this primarily to make myself feel better. And I do it because it has kept me out of trouble and extended therapy.
Being the natural optimist that I am...any good news of YAY! - be it for me or someone else - is wonderful! I'm not one of those people who thinks that if something good happens to you then my life immediately begins to suck somehow proportionate to your good fortune. I mean, it MIGHT, but that's probably just coincidental. No, I believe that if something awesome is happening in your life...then there is probably room for something wonderful to happen in my own at some point in time. It gives me encouragement that good things are still out there happening to good people.
Looking for the silver lining is certainly a lot more fun than waiting for the other shoe to drop. I think that most people I know would agree. Just remember...to an optimist...if that other shoe does drop...there's a chance it will at least be cute. So there's that.
I'm actually a really huge optimist. Okay, I hear those of you who know me really well laughing hysterically right now. Just hang with me for a minute while I clarify that statement just a tad. It's like this: I will always initially see the bright side...the glorious possibilities...the immense wonder of it all. I will see the best possible outcome, the Hallmark movie ending, and the memory that should last a lifetime in every circumstance.
Always. Without fail.
I do realize that this is not the Reality Express I'm on, but it is the way I'm wired. In fact, my mother used to brace herself for whatever I was about to get all enthusiastic about...because she knew that the likelihood of it ending well was equal to discovering calorie-free Ben & Jerry's that tastes as awesome as the real stuff. Possible (I hope)...but ridiculously unlikely.
Those of us who see the best possible outcome as a general rule also (at some point) spend a lot of time ticked off that the rest of the world doesn't share our view and isn't cooperating. We think that we know what will make us happy, what needs to change, and who needs to be doing what where and when. I had a coworker who once nicknamed me "Our Lady of Perpetual Disappointment"...because I always seemed to be mourning some colossal failure or another...most of it a result of wishing that things were different and being unappreciative of what was going well. I finally got enough of it, started turning it over to God, and realized that the only person that I have any control over at all is myself. And some days even that is iffy.
Eventually, if we are lucky, we will find that occasionally things work out far better than we think they will. We finally let go of our expectations and simply let things be what they are. After years of being buffeted around, my current modus operandi is hoping for the best...but preparing for the worst.
After a lot of life experience involving colossal "fails" and major disappointments I still allow myself to just get all excited for about two minutes. I love those two minutes. I mean...why not get all fired up about life?
Immediately following the elation, I launch into some "Sergeant Friday" mode that makes me want to ferret out what is likely to go wrong. Because in my personal experience...this isn't just optional...it's mandatory. I have a strong ability to make the most of whatever comes...but this is because I've already rehearsed a great deal of what could possibly go wrong already in my head. Based on this...I prepare. I'm often the one with the safety pins, Bandaids, Chapstick, extra toothbrush, camera, cash, or whatever. Yes, I do this primarily to make myself feel better. And I do it because it has kept me out of trouble and extended therapy.
Being the natural optimist that I am...any good news of YAY! - be it for me or someone else - is wonderful! I'm not one of those people who thinks that if something good happens to you then my life immediately begins to suck somehow proportionate to your good fortune. I mean, it MIGHT, but that's probably just coincidental. No, I believe that if something awesome is happening in your life...then there is probably room for something wonderful to happen in my own at some point in time. It gives me encouragement that good things are still out there happening to good people.
Looking for the silver lining is certainly a lot more fun than waiting for the other shoe to drop. I think that most people I know would agree. Just remember...to an optimist...if that other shoe does drop...there's a chance it will at least be cute. So there's that.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Impressions
Tonight in the grocery store checkout line a woman turned to me and said "I know you. I don't know why I know you, but I know that I do." I started rattling off information to see if we could find the connection...and eventually we did. Our children are in school together, and she remembered me from the Graduation Reception last May.
Ah, we had a lot of fun that day. I mean, seriously, we did. So, she remembered me somewhat fondly. Which means that I made a good impression. Because often when people tell me that I look familiar, they say that I look like someone who "is a real heifer." Yeah, I so love that (not).
It got me to thinking, though, about those times when I'm not really even remotely concerned about the impression I'm making. You know, like when you run into the grocery store looking like you've just painted the exterior of your house and you run into about eight people that you know. How about all of those people who encounter you that don't know you? Ever wonder what they're thinking?
Oh, come on, you know you do the same thing. We are all snarky when we are people-watching.
Like today at work, someone was outside replacing the outside grill (or doing some kind of maintenance...I really didn't pay that much attention). I noticed that he was pretty inked up, had pierced ears, and a dab of chin hair just hanging on there like some little desperate fluff of nastiness. I'm sure that he could have been a nice guy, and obviously knew something about grills, but I honestly wouldn't know any of that because I was just observing all of this as I walked to and fro from the bathroom all morning.
Yeah, I started drinking a lot of water again.
I'm sure that the skinny little Asian lady I encountered while trying to stabilize my "personal summer" last week in Costco in the cooler had a few ideas about me. I was in the cooler taking my time looking at just about every item in there trying to cool off. She just looked at me like I was some kind of lettuce molester or something.
How about WalMart? I mean...there's even a website called "People of WalMart" because everyone pretty much abandons their personal dignity and turns into a universal set of Jerry Springer contestant wannabes when they go through the gates of Rollback. I know I have. Scary doesn't even begin to describe it. I mean, I think my day is horrible if I have to go in there in the first place. My face no doubt reflects this displeasure. I couldn't care less if my clothes match or my hair is brushed. I mean, WHY?
And then there's those places where you can only hope that you won't see anyone you know where they shouldn't be. I mean, we have an "adult" store of some kind on Highway 31 that we pass on our way to Tuscaloosa. Not that I recognize cars...I'm pretty hopeless actually...but I'd be appalled if I actually did see someone I knew there. I mean...who GOES there? Obviously someone does...because they have a Hummer advertising the store that I've seen from time to time around town. And there always seem to be vehicles parked outside when we pass. I've never seen anyone actually going in or out, though. And yes, I do look.
I suppose that we should live our lives so that we aren't embarrassed when people try to figure out how they know us. We should try to be the same person at home, at church, and in public. Sometimes, that's hard, though. We want to be perceived as the best version of ourselves...but life has a funny way of intervening.
I've made some less than stellar impressions lately. Just ask the girl who works in the deli at Publix. She and I aren't on the best of terms. Or the person at Best Buy in Tuscaloosa who charged us $40 for no reason. The pregnant lady who works at Kirkland's with the huge attitude. The entire staff at Jill's old apartment complex who will hopefully think twice about jerking around tenants. The guy at Comcast who couldn't hear and apply the words "basic cable" when signing us up. These folks have seen a side of me that is not consistent with my best self. But sometimes you just have to go redneck to get your point across.
(Oh, that's a long list...August was a brutal month.)
But I have hope. The people at Chick-fil-A try really hard to offer good service. Likewise with a teller at the bank who just goes out of her way to be nice. The folks at my local Publix (other than Deli Girl) who are friendly and helpful. And there are kids I've known since they were little people who actually act like they are pleased to see me when they do.
So, go out there tomorrow and show the world your best self. You never know who is watching. And if you are headed to WalMart...a little mascara and an outfit purchased sometime in this decade probably wouldn't hurt.
Ah, we had a lot of fun that day. I mean, seriously, we did. So, she remembered me somewhat fondly. Which means that I made a good impression. Because often when people tell me that I look familiar, they say that I look like someone who "is a real heifer." Yeah, I so love that (not).
It got me to thinking, though, about those times when I'm not really even remotely concerned about the impression I'm making. You know, like when you run into the grocery store looking like you've just painted the exterior of your house and you run into about eight people that you know. How about all of those people who encounter you that don't know you? Ever wonder what they're thinking?
Oh, come on, you know you do the same thing. We are all snarky when we are people-watching.
Like today at work, someone was outside replacing the outside grill (or doing some kind of maintenance...I really didn't pay that much attention). I noticed that he was pretty inked up, had pierced ears, and a dab of chin hair just hanging on there like some little desperate fluff of nastiness. I'm sure that he could have been a nice guy, and obviously knew something about grills, but I honestly wouldn't know any of that because I was just observing all of this as I walked to and fro from the bathroom all morning.
Yeah, I started drinking a lot of water again.
I'm sure that the skinny little Asian lady I encountered while trying to stabilize my "personal summer" last week in Costco in the cooler had a few ideas about me. I was in the cooler taking my time looking at just about every item in there trying to cool off. She just looked at me like I was some kind of lettuce molester or something.
How about WalMart? I mean...there's even a website called "People of WalMart" because everyone pretty much abandons their personal dignity and turns into a universal set of Jerry Springer contestant wannabes when they go through the gates of Rollback. I know I have. Scary doesn't even begin to describe it. I mean, I think my day is horrible if I have to go in there in the first place. My face no doubt reflects this displeasure. I couldn't care less if my clothes match or my hair is brushed. I mean, WHY?
And then there's those places where you can only hope that you won't see anyone you know where they shouldn't be. I mean, we have an "adult" store of some kind on Highway 31 that we pass on our way to Tuscaloosa. Not that I recognize cars...I'm pretty hopeless actually...but I'd be appalled if I actually did see someone I knew there. I mean...who GOES there? Obviously someone does...because they have a Hummer advertising the store that I've seen from time to time around town. And there always seem to be vehicles parked outside when we pass. I've never seen anyone actually going in or out, though. And yes, I do look.
I suppose that we should live our lives so that we aren't embarrassed when people try to figure out how they know us. We should try to be the same person at home, at church, and in public. Sometimes, that's hard, though. We want to be perceived as the best version of ourselves...but life has a funny way of intervening.
I've made some less than stellar impressions lately. Just ask the girl who works in the deli at Publix. She and I aren't on the best of terms. Or the person at Best Buy in Tuscaloosa who charged us $40 for no reason. The pregnant lady who works at Kirkland's with the huge attitude. The entire staff at Jill's old apartment complex who will hopefully think twice about jerking around tenants. The guy at Comcast who couldn't hear and apply the words "basic cable" when signing us up. These folks have seen a side of me that is not consistent with my best self. But sometimes you just have to go redneck to get your point across.
(Oh, that's a long list...August was a brutal month.)
But I have hope. The people at Chick-fil-A try really hard to offer good service. Likewise with a teller at the bank who just goes out of her way to be nice. The folks at my local Publix (other than Deli Girl) who are friendly and helpful. And there are kids I've known since they were little people who actually act like they are pleased to see me when they do.
So, go out there tomorrow and show the world your best self. You never know who is watching. And if you are headed to WalMart...a little mascara and an outfit purchased sometime in this decade probably wouldn't hurt.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Procrastination
A friend sent me a message that said that someone had dropped something on their kitchen floor, wiped it up, followed it by a good mopping, and then marveled at how clean the floor was. I love that. Don't we often sit and see things the way that they are instead of the way that they could or should be? I know I do. Every morning while I'm getting dressed.
Now I don't suggest replacing your Mr. Clean with sour cream, but I do suggest looking for those little things in life that you could easily improve with just a little bit of effort. Do you wince when you pass your closet? Well, take everything out of it and only put back what you love. At best, you'll be excited and exhilarated about finding items that were lost in the bowels of your closet. You'll also have a nice pile of stuff to bless the local Goodwill or charity of your choice with and have the opportunity to get a receipt for your 2010 taxes (Score!) At worst, you'll bag everything up and have to go shopping. Yeah, THAT would suck (not).
Those little things in life sometimes keep us motivated to press on. The problem is...we procrastinate because we'd rather be sitting in front of the television set watching "American Chopper" "Dancing With the Stars" or something equally heinous.
We often dodge what is right in front of us because we don't want to expend the effort to correct whatever it is. The piles of junk on the counter...the form that needs to be returned...the light on the dashboard of the car...the patio furniture that is changing colors. We just avoid it, ignore it, or just whine about it...instead of fixing it.
Maybe this weekend we can take a few minutes and just look at the possibilities. Face head on those dragons that steal our joy and make us fail to appreciate everything that we have. Because if we don't face them...God has a funny way of making us face them. An overdue bill...being stranded on the side of the road...being mortified when we have unexpected company...or upsetting a carton of sour cream on our kitchen floor so we'll have to clean it.
I have a friend with the opposite problem. She sends memos to her staff about which way the toilet paper is supposed to be put on the roll in the communal bathroom, and dust knows better than to land anywhere near her home or workspace. She deals with things before they happen. I would find that exhausting. I suppose somewhere between the two extremes is probably something representing normal.
So, today, head on out and find something you want to make better. Deal with something that has sat on your mind (or your counter) far too long. Pick the stuff up and just set fire to it if you have to. Just get it gone.
(Well, don't set the house on fire just because you can't clean out your closet...call me first. I'm so serious.)
Now I don't suggest replacing your Mr. Clean with sour cream, but I do suggest looking for those little things in life that you could easily improve with just a little bit of effort. Do you wince when you pass your closet? Well, take everything out of it and only put back what you love. At best, you'll be excited and exhilarated about finding items that were lost in the bowels of your closet. You'll also have a nice pile of stuff to bless the local Goodwill or charity of your choice with and have the opportunity to get a receipt for your 2010 taxes (Score!) At worst, you'll bag everything up and have to go shopping. Yeah, THAT would suck (not).
Those little things in life sometimes keep us motivated to press on. The problem is...we procrastinate because we'd rather be sitting in front of the television set watching "American Chopper" "Dancing With the Stars" or something equally heinous.
We often dodge what is right in front of us because we don't want to expend the effort to correct whatever it is. The piles of junk on the counter...the form that needs to be returned...the light on the dashboard of the car...the patio furniture that is changing colors. We just avoid it, ignore it, or just whine about it...instead of fixing it.
Maybe this weekend we can take a few minutes and just look at the possibilities. Face head on those dragons that steal our joy and make us fail to appreciate everything that we have. Because if we don't face them...God has a funny way of making us face them. An overdue bill...being stranded on the side of the road...being mortified when we have unexpected company...or upsetting a carton of sour cream on our kitchen floor so we'll have to clean it.
I have a friend with the opposite problem. She sends memos to her staff about which way the toilet paper is supposed to be put on the roll in the communal bathroom, and dust knows better than to land anywhere near her home or workspace. She deals with things before they happen. I would find that exhausting. I suppose somewhere between the two extremes is probably something representing normal.
So, today, head on out and find something you want to make better. Deal with something that has sat on your mind (or your counter) far too long. Pick the stuff up and just set fire to it if you have to. Just get it gone.
(Well, don't set the house on fire just because you can't clean out your closet...call me first. I'm so serious.)
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Yard Sale
This weekend is going to be busy. Normally, my definition of "busy" involves me sitting around a television set watching SEC Football or hanging around the quad in Tuscaloosa watching Alabama fans. But this Saturday, I'll be attending a baby shower in the afternoon (thank heavens for DVR) and I'll be investing my morning in helping with a yard sale.
The yard sale is going to be at my friend Bonnie's house, and this will be the second one I've participated with her in our twenty plus years of friendship. She is a seasoned yard saler, and is pretty ruthless about getting her "stuff" gone and at a decent price. At the end of the day, she will have rid herself of a ridiculous amount of items and will have made enough money for it to have been worth her time. She is a professional.
And then there's me. I will show up with a few scanty items which I will handily dispose of and make...I suspect...about $4.95. The veteran yard salers will smell blood in the water and will get me down from a dollar to a quarter on most everything. I will have spent all morning there, will be looking like I've run a half marathon, and will swear not to ever do it again. And for another ten years or so...I won't.
I have items in this house that I'd like to get rid of. The problem is, I comb through my items so often that I rarely get enough together to make it worth my while. I don't have any problem decluttering (except for my bedroom for some inexplicable reason). Anything that I could possibly eBay...has been eBayed. Anything that I could pass to someone who could use it (clothes, furniture, books) has already been passed. Most of the big, bulky items were unloaded at the church yard sale last April. So, although I could use some extra cash, I have no great expectations and am trying to focus on the fellowship, and on helping Bonnie get rid of her stuff. Because the latter totally needs to happen.
A few months ago, after months of begging (on my part), she finally allowed me to come in and help her deal with it. Now, we are getting to the final stage of that journey...expulsion of sixteen years of "I'll get to that later." I'm sure for the yard saler who knows a bargain when they see it, this is a treasure trove. Plus, I want to see her raise enough money to possibly join me on a trip to Europe next year. I'm already on a mission to start raising funds for that. My $4.95 will buy me a croissant, possibly. But I do have enough American Express "points" for the ticket right now. Which totally rocks.
I have been to numerous yard sales in my life and I rarely am able to find anything that I just have to bring home. It may be the fact that I am more a junk expeller than a junk aquirer by nature that throws off my mojo. I have no idea. I'm not prissy about it or anything. I just can't seem to find that needle in a haystack item that makes sorting through stuff in someone's front yard at 6 a.m. a good use of my time.
But today I will go through the house again and will probably find a load of things that need to go. I always do. And I'll still be up $4.95 for the day. So there's that.
The yard sale is going to be at my friend Bonnie's house, and this will be the second one I've participated with her in our twenty plus years of friendship. She is a seasoned yard saler, and is pretty ruthless about getting her "stuff" gone and at a decent price. At the end of the day, she will have rid herself of a ridiculous amount of items and will have made enough money for it to have been worth her time. She is a professional.
And then there's me. I will show up with a few scanty items which I will handily dispose of and make...I suspect...about $4.95. The veteran yard salers will smell blood in the water and will get me down from a dollar to a quarter on most everything. I will have spent all morning there, will be looking like I've run a half marathon, and will swear not to ever do it again. And for another ten years or so...I won't.
I have items in this house that I'd like to get rid of. The problem is, I comb through my items so often that I rarely get enough together to make it worth my while. I don't have any problem decluttering (except for my bedroom for some inexplicable reason). Anything that I could possibly eBay...has been eBayed. Anything that I could pass to someone who could use it (clothes, furniture, books) has already been passed. Most of the big, bulky items were unloaded at the church yard sale last April. So, although I could use some extra cash, I have no great expectations and am trying to focus on the fellowship, and on helping Bonnie get rid of her stuff. Because the latter totally needs to happen.
A few months ago, after months of begging (on my part), she finally allowed me to come in and help her deal with it. Now, we are getting to the final stage of that journey...expulsion of sixteen years of "I'll get to that later." I'm sure for the yard saler who knows a bargain when they see it, this is a treasure trove. Plus, I want to see her raise enough money to possibly join me on a trip to Europe next year. I'm already on a mission to start raising funds for that. My $4.95 will buy me a croissant, possibly. But I do have enough American Express "points" for the ticket right now. Which totally rocks.
I have been to numerous yard sales in my life and I rarely am able to find anything that I just have to bring home. It may be the fact that I am more a junk expeller than a junk aquirer by nature that throws off my mojo. I have no idea. I'm not prissy about it or anything. I just can't seem to find that needle in a haystack item that makes sorting through stuff in someone's front yard at 6 a.m. a good use of my time.
But today I will go through the house again and will probably find a load of things that need to go. I always do. And I'll still be up $4.95 for the day. So there's that.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Redemption
This morning in church I heard a message about redemption. To say that this message was powerful is to say that it is hot in the South in the summer. You can see the temperatures on the weather map, and you can even look outside and see that the sun is shining. But until you get out in it...and live and breathe and move...you don't understand the full scope of it. Such is the power of redemption.
Life is messy. We come into this world messy, and it never really gets a whole lot better. I mean, we clean up well...and these are the moments that fill our photo albums and are displayed proudly on the walls of our homes. Times when we celebrated, succeeded, or simply got dressed up because it was incumbent on our mothers to have us photographed.
These weddings, proms, graduations, births, reunions, recitals and presentations all live in our memories and are reflections of our best...or at least represent various points in time. These highlights are the ones that we don't mind sharing with other people...well, except for any photo taken during the 1970s...a particularly heinous era for fashion, hairstyles, and photo quality. These are the days that we would like to define us...be they glory days, red-letter days, or times when we were in the spotlight. But these are just glimpses of who we were or who we are. They show our potential for beauty, or talent, or achievement. We don't particularly mind reliving these days in our minds. Not at all.
Of course, the majority of our days are the busy days. The ones that we wake up in and make the best of with whatever is flying madly at us from dusk to dawn. We schedule ourselves so tightly that nothing actually gets enjoyed. We've taken multitasking to new levels and our shattered nerves reflect our lack of downtime. The ones - that when we are in the throes of - we wish for relief for a few precious moments. The endless diaper changes and crying of a colicky newborn. The hours of homework that the third grader endures. The workdays that are identical except for slight differentiations in which person has been the most annoying during that eight hour period. The cleaning of toilets, dusting, and mopping that looks good for about ten minutes before someone messes it all up again.
But then again, these normal days are so often taken for granted that we cannot believe it when we move to a new phase of life. The children leave for college or in a limo from the wedding reception. Somehow in all of that busyness, we thought that we would be sitting in the bleachers forever...and then we aren't.
And then there are the other days. The days we try to forget. The ones where we messed up in the eyes of the world...but more importantly...in the eyes of God. Where we are mortified at our behavior and cannot possibly explain our mindset. Where we were either too stupid, stubborn, uninformed, or lost to take any other path than the one we chose. Those moments that make us wince in disgust to think about. Yeah, those.
For many of us, those moments took place in our youth, in mid-life, or in a moment or season of rashness. We didn't think, didn't know, or didn't care about who we hurt or what message we sent. We just messed up. And we can go years believing that we will never be forgiven or understood as a result.
There are some bad decisions that cannot be undone and we have to live with the consequences. Others did not change the course of anyone's life but our own. But it matters not, because the really important thing is that God knows. And we know He knows. Therein lies the problem.
We may come to church, do good works, and become the person that He intended for us to be, but we miss out on the relationship because we somehow believe that He cannot or will not use the broken pieces. We don't really want to think about that brokenness after all...we want to believe that we've moved on...learned...changed. But not sweeping up the shards of brokenness from the floors of our hearts can eventually create an abscess. And we wonder why we don't feel close to God, good enough, or anything but a fraud.
For those days...there is redemption. We can get a deep cleaning...and let God use the tiny pieces of our brokenness to create something beautiful and pleasing to him. Like little tiny seeds He can use from the awful bits of us that we'd rather forget and bring fruit out of that to nourish others or give us assurance that we are worthy in His eyes. That's powerful.
That does not necessarily mean that you have to admit every mistake you've ever made publicly, or relive a season in your life that was less than stellar. It just means that you have to allow God to make something beautiful from your brokenness. You have to believe that freedom from the pain is possible.
Tonight I am thinking about those days in my life that I'd rather not think about and wishing that there were fewer of them to note. But what would have been worse would have been to wallow in that pit of despair instead of simply getting out. I'm sure that there will be other days that I will regret...after all...I'm far from perfect. I'll let people down, speak careless words, and fall short of all that He has planned for me. I'd like to believe otherwise, but the fact is...I'm still breathing. That fact alone pretty much assures me that I'm not out of the regrets business yet.
But I have hope. I know that failure is not unique to me...nor is the incredible ability to get on the wrong track. It happens. I'm not flippant about that, nor am I taking it lightly. Sin is serious business. Yet I don't doubt the power of God to turn my weaknesses into strengths and my darkness into light.
Remember that Jesus did the work for you to have peace, love, and joy in abundance. When you are in the darkest valley or believe that you are so far gone that you can never come home...you have to hold onto the truth that it is never too late. If you are drawing breath on this earth...you still have a purpose and a destiny to fulfill.
No matter how bad some of those days might have been...God has the ability to clean the slate and make beauty out of ashes and purpose out of chaos. He can do powerful things when we get out of our own way. Including giving us back the years that the locusts have eaten (Joel 2:25).
Praise the Lord for that.
Life is messy. We come into this world messy, and it never really gets a whole lot better. I mean, we clean up well...and these are the moments that fill our photo albums and are displayed proudly on the walls of our homes. Times when we celebrated, succeeded, or simply got dressed up because it was incumbent on our mothers to have us photographed.
These weddings, proms, graduations, births, reunions, recitals and presentations all live in our memories and are reflections of our best...or at least represent various points in time. These highlights are the ones that we don't mind sharing with other people...well, except for any photo taken during the 1970s...a particularly heinous era for fashion, hairstyles, and photo quality. These are the days that we would like to define us...be they glory days, red-letter days, or times when we were in the spotlight. But these are just glimpses of who we were or who we are. They show our potential for beauty, or talent, or achievement. We don't particularly mind reliving these days in our minds. Not at all.
Of course, the majority of our days are the busy days. The ones that we wake up in and make the best of with whatever is flying madly at us from dusk to dawn. We schedule ourselves so tightly that nothing actually gets enjoyed. We've taken multitasking to new levels and our shattered nerves reflect our lack of downtime. The ones - that when we are in the throes of - we wish for relief for a few precious moments. The endless diaper changes and crying of a colicky newborn. The hours of homework that the third grader endures. The workdays that are identical except for slight differentiations in which person has been the most annoying during that eight hour period. The cleaning of toilets, dusting, and mopping that looks good for about ten minutes before someone messes it all up again.
But then again, these normal days are so often taken for granted that we cannot believe it when we move to a new phase of life. The children leave for college or in a limo from the wedding reception. Somehow in all of that busyness, we thought that we would be sitting in the bleachers forever...and then we aren't.
And then there are the other days. The days we try to forget. The ones where we messed up in the eyes of the world...but more importantly...in the eyes of God. Where we are mortified at our behavior and cannot possibly explain our mindset. Where we were either too stupid, stubborn, uninformed, or lost to take any other path than the one we chose. Those moments that make us wince in disgust to think about. Yeah, those.
For many of us, those moments took place in our youth, in mid-life, or in a moment or season of rashness. We didn't think, didn't know, or didn't care about who we hurt or what message we sent. We just messed up. And we can go years believing that we will never be forgiven or understood as a result.
There are some bad decisions that cannot be undone and we have to live with the consequences. Others did not change the course of anyone's life but our own. But it matters not, because the really important thing is that God knows. And we know He knows. Therein lies the problem.
We may come to church, do good works, and become the person that He intended for us to be, but we miss out on the relationship because we somehow believe that He cannot or will not use the broken pieces. We don't really want to think about that brokenness after all...we want to believe that we've moved on...learned...changed. But not sweeping up the shards of brokenness from the floors of our hearts can eventually create an abscess. And we wonder why we don't feel close to God, good enough, or anything but a fraud.
For those days...there is redemption. We can get a deep cleaning...and let God use the tiny pieces of our brokenness to create something beautiful and pleasing to him. Like little tiny seeds He can use from the awful bits of us that we'd rather forget and bring fruit out of that to nourish others or give us assurance that we are worthy in His eyes. That's powerful.
That does not necessarily mean that you have to admit every mistake you've ever made publicly, or relive a season in your life that was less than stellar. It just means that you have to allow God to make something beautiful from your brokenness. You have to believe that freedom from the pain is possible.
Tonight I am thinking about those days in my life that I'd rather not think about and wishing that there were fewer of them to note. But what would have been worse would have been to wallow in that pit of despair instead of simply getting out. I'm sure that there will be other days that I will regret...after all...I'm far from perfect. I'll let people down, speak careless words, and fall short of all that He has planned for me. I'd like to believe otherwise, but the fact is...I'm still breathing. That fact alone pretty much assures me that I'm not out of the regrets business yet.
But I have hope. I know that failure is not unique to me...nor is the incredible ability to get on the wrong track. It happens. I'm not flippant about that, nor am I taking it lightly. Sin is serious business. Yet I don't doubt the power of God to turn my weaknesses into strengths and my darkness into light.
Remember that Jesus did the work for you to have peace, love, and joy in abundance. When you are in the darkest valley or believe that you are so far gone that you can never come home...you have to hold onto the truth that it is never too late. If you are drawing breath on this earth...you still have a purpose and a destiny to fulfill.
No matter how bad some of those days might have been...God has the ability to clean the slate and make beauty out of ashes and purpose out of chaos. He can do powerful things when we get out of our own way. Including giving us back the years that the locusts have eaten (Joel 2:25).
Praise the Lord for that.
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