Winter funk first hit me a few weeks ago (no, not that scary, Australian super-virus though the threat of it definitely adds to the funk). Like many Midwesterners with cabin fever, I tried escaping it by going on a short girls’ getaway (though we couldn’t afford anywhere warm!). And that sufficed while I was away, but the day-to-day was still waiting for me when I returned. Continue reading “Overcoming the Winter Blues”
I once tried to use the word “coldth” in a Creative Writing class in high school. My teacher crossed it out in large, red letters and wrote “Not a word!”, which annoyed me because, duh, I know it’s not a real word, but I was trying to be “creative” and make up a new word that would describe a cold feeling that is actually comforting. Obviously, I failed. So here’s another attempt:
Living just outside Chicago, everyone dreads our icy winters. Being that I walk everywhere, I don’t exactly look forward to spending 20 minutes bundling up the kids and myself and then maneuvering the stroller around snowbanks, slush puddles and irresponsible neighbors’ un-shoveled driveways (okay, fine, it’s usually our snowy driveway!)
But even with the dread of a cold, long winter ahead, I must admit that I felt a little giddy the first time the temperatures dipped down in the 30s in November. While I loved our frequent trips to the park this warm December and first week of January, I feel a nervous excitement over the recent falling temps. Some of you will stop reading now because you are so irritated that I would even hint at appreciating freezing weather. But I just have to say it.
Sometimes cold temperatures bring warmth to a home in the same way that hard times bring families together.
It’s an excuse to crank up the heat, light a fire, drink hot tea, snuggle closer…
It takes a good freeze to kill the pests, such as ants, and for some reason my house always seems cleaner in the winter when there’s no moisture or humidity in the air. And even thought I know people tend to get sicker in the winter, a good freeze seems to kill some of the germs floating around, which could be the reason influenza and stomach bugs have been rampant this winter in the Midwest, according to many healthcare professionals. And I truly have enjoyed bopping around town without a coat nor icy sidewalks these past couple months. But it’s time to freeze off a few germs.
It’s also time for some brisk walks– the kind that wake us out of our sluggish, January slumber. “Blue Monday” is coming up on the 21st. Apparently, psychologists have come up with a formula based on the amount of days after Christmas, the weather, the amount of sun, etc. that designates the 21st as the most depressing day of 2013 for people. So, knowing that I have the potential to be at my lowest on this day, I know that fresh air and exercise are remedies for me.
And there’s really nothing like frosty air to cool me off when I am heated up over something. Like yesterday, when everything seemed to be going wring, leading to a frustrating climax in which I encountered a difficult phone representative while trying to file an insurance claim. The conversation left me with hot, angry tears by the end of it, and since it was time to pick my youngest up from preschool a few blocks away, I had to wipe my tears away and pull myself together. It had been such a draining day in general that I really worried I wouldn’t be able to get out of my angry, sad funk. But as soon as my feet met cold pavement and my lungs inhaled arctic air, I felt my insides relax. The air cooled the heat of my anger, and I felt refreshed, heavy coat, mittens and all. A spring, summer or autumn day could not have revived me the way this winter one did. While I’m glad it’s not winter all the time, I welcome it for now.
It’s Sunday night, and I”m tired. But it’s a good tired. Ben and I played a lot with the kids today. And we put on rain boots and jackets and went splashing through puddles as we walked to Lou Malnati’s for pizza in the pouring rain.
And I was reminded today, as I was throughout this whole past week, how life reverses both ways. From perfect, sunny days that turn rainy all the way back to rainy days that turn out to be fun despite the puddles. Or perhaps, because of the puddles.
To give you the end of last Friday’s story, Lucy continued to cry all the way home. When she continued to sob at home, I got desparate for something to calm her and went up to my closet where I store future Christmas gifts (yes, I know it’s only August, and I’m ridiculous for starting already, but I pretty much am a single-parent the month of December since my husband is in ministry, so I like to just get it done early). Anyways, I went in the bin and grabbed the one thing she has been asking for the past year that I finally found on ebay– a retro Rainbow Brite doll (yup, that’s what I get for thinking I’m a sly, early shopper– the best gift is already ruined!)
And as I’m handing it to her, an even larger feeling of guilt sweeps over me as I realize that I’m instilling a materialistic comfort habit that will probably lead to her becoming an emotional shopaholic one day. (honestly when I told my husband about everything, he was completely understanding about the stroller accident, as something similar happened with him and Lucy and a bike a couple years ago, but he was really upset that I pulled the doll out!)
It did the temproary job of calming her down, however, and reassured me that the crying (which ceased immediately) was dragging on more out of fear than pain.
But as quickly as her tears vanished, mine appeared. An old friend had stopped by to see our new house, and as I was showing her the upstairs, I felt my voice break and I couldn’t compose myself. She, of course, told me that I was being too hard on myself and that she had done so many similar things when her boys were young.
And you know what? Throughout the entire past week, I received comments and e-mails from people, sharing their “guilt stories” of ways their kids were injured on their account. And while a couple of the stories honestly disturbed me, they really did help. A couple of them even made me laugh and smile to myself.
And as my week progressed, I realized that there are a ton of reversals that occur in the span of a week, or even a day for that matter. And sometimes life seems to reverse on its own when we give it a moment…..like when Lucy was pouting on Wednesday because there was a toy she wanted that I wouldn’t get her at the store. She ran into her room and shut the door, and I was too frustrated to try to reason with her, so I just sat on my bed and read with Elli, feeling like I had created this material=hungry little blonde monster. But to my surprise, a few minutes later, she came hopping up on my lap and thrust a handmade card in my face that said, “I’m sorry mom. I love you, daddy, and Elli more than things.” followed by a great, big bear hug.
And while I beamed and hugged her on Wednesday, I found myself feeling irritated on Thursday when both girls were whining and kept begging to watch tv all afternoon. I kept waiting for the day to reverse on its own– for the girls to come prancing up to me with handmade cards again that said “We will never whine again and we don’t even care about tv!” But the cards never came. And I kept thinking, “Why does it take so much to make them happy?”
And it was then that I realized that it was my frame of mind that needed a reversal– not my day. I got out some play doh and sat on the porch with Lucy while Elli took a little snooze in her stroller near us. We sat and chatted and played, and it seemed like just that hour of one-on-one attention turned the whole rest of the day around. She frolicked around the house the rest of the night, singing little songs.
And I kept thinking, “wow, it takes so little to make kids happy.”
So I guess this is just how life is– one reversal after another. And while it often takes so little to turn it around, it does take something.
Whether a pause. A prayer. A deep breath. An empathetic ear. A shift in consciousness. A brief moment of reflection is worth the likelihood that the day– or week or month or year– will turn around.
Living in the suburbs, where honestly – people pretty much drive down the driveway to get their mail, I have had some of the strangest and funniest reactions when people have found out I’ve walked places. When Ben and I were first married, we lived 3 blocks from North Central College where I worked, and co-workers would always ask incredulously “You WALKED to work?” as if I’d just run a marathon despite the fact that they knew where I lived.
And when I lived 2 blocks away from the middle school I taught at, I constantly had teacher-friends insisting on driving me to or from school because they felt bad that I had to walk even though I never complained about walking (I liked it!). I know they were just being thoughtful and kind, but it sometimes seemed like they were actually uncomfortable thinking of someone walking a few short blocks.
One of the few persons I know who is able to drive but prefers to walk a lot is my sister-in-law, who grew up in Europe where walking was a part of daily life. She’s the only person who used to brave the 1.5 mile walk to the Plainfield library with our kids and me back when we were at our old house.
I’m hoping that with the rise in emerging urban design movements like “new urbanism” and sites such as walkscore.com, community planners will build more suburban neighborhoods within walking distance to more places (some friends were recently laughing sadly when they saw that their house has a “walkscore” of 3!)
But even if there’s only one place (i.e. a park, friend’s house, drugstore, etc.) to walk to where you currently live, here are ten reasons to walk instead of drive there:
1. Better for the environment (What’s that you say? You drive a Prius? Believe it or not, your legs leave an even tinier footprint on this earth than even your Prius! Preaching to my husband here…)
2. Save money (gas, wear and tear….. it all adds up in this economy!)
3. Good Exercise (and, unlike the treadmill in your basement, the scenery actually changes!)
4. Fresh Air for Your Kids (Being a busy mom, it’s sometimes tough to fit in outside playtime, so if you’re walking somewhere AND they’re getting fresh air, win-win!)
5. More face-to-face interaction for the kids (mine face each other in the wagon and play games– yeah I know this can backfire occasionally, but that just teaches them conflict management!)
6. Nature vs. Screen-time inside a car (Okay, so I know not all people who cart their kids around all day in the car have built-in dvd players, but I tend to resort to handing my kids my iPhone way less when we’re outside than when we’re in the car.)
7. Time with Friends (Most families these days aren’t able to all fit in a car together on the way to outings, but if you make plans to walk somewhere w/ a friend– whether to the park, farmer’s market, or another neighbor’s house, you have time to chat in person while you walk!)
8. Opportunities to meet new people (you can’t tell me that a wagon decked out like a princess float is not a conversation-starter!)
9. Give your town/neighborhood a friendly look (there’s nothing that says “hey, this is a safe and fun place to be” more than people out walking, especially with kids.)
10. No chance of getting a speeding ticket (I love to brag that I’ve never gotten pulled over!)
BONUS REASON: Less Stress (Okay, this one may be the most debatable because it’s situational and could be stressful if you’re late walking somewhere important and it takes 3 times as long, HOWEVER, everyone I know who commutes to work comments on how stressful it can be…..just think of road rage and not having to deal with other annoying drivers!)
NOTE: Yes, I live in the United States and realize that very few people live in areas where they can walk to all the places they need to go in the course of a day. But I have also lived in the ‘burbs long enough to see a lot of missed walking opportunities. How many people live in the exact same neighborhood as friends but end up driving to play dates at their neighbors’ houses I know, I know — they may have somewhere to be right after the play date. If you’re one of those people, maybe try adjusting your schedule to leave a little earlier or later once in awhile. Your body, pocketbook, earth, kids, mind, etc. will thank you!
Here’s a glimpse of how the girls and I wheel around town in all seasons:
It seems like I’ve been talking to a lot of people who feel down lately. Some of the down feelings are
circumstantial, but for most of the people, it’s more of a disillusionment with the way their everyday lives are going.
And because I’ve definitely been there, it is causing me to analyze some of my “joy” data– and I’m not talking about my name here….. what brings joy into my life on an everyday basis? (and this is beyond all those easy answers like God and children….)
For me, it’s words. I remember loving the feeling of stringing them together as a kid…. that pure delight even in kindergarten when I wrote, “The Rose Girl” and had some vague sense that I had created something.
And maybe my first love of words had something to do with the fact that pictures were sometimes hard to see, and how the words describing them made them visible to me. My toddler has a lot of first words books where I point to the picture and she tells me what it is, and honestly thank goodness for the large, bolded words below each picture because I have trouble deciphering what most of them are even though she recognizes most of them right away.
I think it’s human tendency to withdraw from some of the things we really enjoy doing in life when we’re down. I know I withdraw from writing when I’m feeling depressed (hence the lack of entries over the winter!)
Yet as I write daily– whether I intend to ever share it with anyone or not– it makes me wish that I had forced myself to do it over the winter because I feel like the days build on each other and increases my daily joy exponentially.
it sometimes takes effort, contemplation and soul-searching to sit down and do the thing that feeds us– or even figure out what it is. But when it is found– whether it be yoga, art, long walks– whatever– give it a prominent place in your life. Challenge yourself in whatever it is, and ignore messages clouding your brain that tell you it’s a waste of time.
For years I didn’t really write much because I didn’t think it would ever lead to a “career” or financial gain. And honestly it may never end up putting a dime in my pocket, but I’d pay a whole lot of money to feel as alive as I do when I create with words. I am so grateful for my amazing twin sister who had the idea to start this blog. It has been my free therapy, my place to be honest, my place to grow and the place where my soul figures out it is satisfied.
I know I’m hovering on the cheesy side again, but I’m writing this for the people in my life who are down right now. Because they have soul food in their lives that they aren’t eating.
Usually these soul food type of activities don’t come skipping along at just the most opportune times. They usually arrive in the middle of the inconvenient times. Like right now when I’m supposed to be scoring essays, for example. I score state tests for Pearson from home to help pay bills (and with how slow I am at scoring, I barely make minimum wage, but my philosophy is that something is better than nothing!)
Many of my writing ideas enter my mind while I am scoring exams, which is completely frustrating because I have a quota to meet, and when I stop to write, I really lose time and money. But when I don’t grab those moments of inspiration, they tend to disappear. So lately, when I feel the inspiration to write, I stop whatever I am doing and just roll with it because I know it’s something that will keep building….. the more I am in the habit of dropping everything to do it, the easier it will be and the more joy I’ll get out of it, and the fuller my soul will feel.
And anyone I know who actually continuously practices the things that feed their soul end up heading in a life direction that they feel alive in.
My husband, for example, is a singer/songwriter, and for years he struggled to find his “niche” of listeners. I worked as his booking agent, we hired a publicist and were determined for him to someday make a living as a full-time singer/songwriter. After several years of late-night shows that didn’t really pay, I got really frustrated. Why wasn’t this career happening? But my husband kept plugging away writing and performing, and at times I couldn’t understand why.
Then in 2010 he was asked to do a Christmas show in Aurora, and we argued about whether he should do it because we would be sacrificing a lot of fun plans and even a weekend trip with family, for him to do this show that involved late-night rehearsals, performances spanning over two weekends and little pay.
At some point I remember my husband making the point that ended the argument: “Joy, with my busy job and our family commitments, this is my one opportunity each year to connect with other local musicians and to put music first”
And it was at that performance that he met his current boss, who hired him one month later to do his dream job. He now writes and plays music full time, like we had always hoped he would be able to do, and simply from continuing to do the thing that makes him feel alive even when it wasn’t convenient and didn’t pay.
I’m not suggesting that we will all end up with careers doing these soul food activities, but if we open up spaces in our days to do them and place them above all those nagging things like money and organizing the closets, we just might start to breathe easy again.
For as lovely as words can look on a screen, life can really blur them all together when you’re trying to live them out.
I hosted a Mother’s Day brunch at my house today for some of my extended family, which was filled with sunshine, great food and beautiful people. It was also filled with crap. Literally.
I won’t get graphic or anything, but I do want to share a little piece of this scenario to give you an idea of how very challenging it can be to place relationships and people first. I have a family member who is developmentally disabled and sometimes has bathroom issues. Well, let’s just say that today he had major bathroom issues. In both our bathrooms. And on the new bathroom rug. And even on the freshly-painted walls, discovered by my poor husband hours later.
When I first walked from the outside fresh air into our house and caught a whiff of this accident, my gag reflex went off, and I stepped right back out. Another family member graciously helped him clean everything up, though further setbacks and clean-ups seemed to continue for quite awhile. I found myself feeling disgusted and frustrated that this was all happening on Mother’s Day. And I found that I acted less than gracious and spoke in irritated tones.
As my family members were leaving, I told a couple of them about my blogpost on placing people first and how I couldn’t even post it because I felt like such a hypocrite acting like I care way more about people than my house but then feeling like I wanted everyone to just go away when it got messy. They smiled with understanding and joked that they wouldn’t tell anyone. I thanked my helpful uncle for all his clean-up work dealing with the other family member’s mess, to which he replied, “all small stuff”. And really, in the grand scheme of things, it is, and I know that as a whole.
And I tried to remind myself of that as my husband and I continued to do some aftermath clean-up later.
But the house still smelled like you-know-what, and I just wanted the nice scent of my Mother’s Day bouquet to fill the house as it had before the brunch.
Since we had to be at another gathering, we decided to just open up all the windows, and even left our front doors leading to the screened-in porch open in hopes that it would air out while we were gone.
And it did.
When we walked through the door this evening, the faint smell of cleaning supplies drifted,but mostly just the aroma of evening spring air filled the house. And it reminded me that sometimes all it takes is a few open windows. And there are windows I forget to open all the time. Not just in my house, but in my life.
I know I’m hovering on cheesy here, but it’s true. I remember to open the windows of all my thoughts, ideals, and insights to the world as I write this blog, but sometimes I forget to open the windows of acceptance to my own family members. Yes, I don’t have to love some of the things they do, and there are definitely boundaries I need to set with certain people who choose not to work on their issues, but there’s usually room for more kindness and acceptance even when setting boundaries.
For example, this particular family members was mentally capable of taking some medication that could have prevented these accidents today but chose not to, and he also chose to eat food that he knows upset his stomach, and because of that, he will not be asked to the next gathering at my house. But at the same time, I didn’t even take the time to say goodbye to him today. I could have still hugged him good-bye and shown love despite my frustration.
I think in order to place people first in our lives, we need to challenge ourselves in the ways that we think about others and act toward them, especially with the difficult people.
There are always more windows that can be opened. And always more fresh air we can let in.
I want to freeze time. To capture the light blonde and brown tendrils that fly all wispy as my daughters dance around the kitchen putting on “dinner entertainment” for daddy . He eats and laughs, more amused by these two under 4 ft. tall than he probably ever imagined he’d be. I want to put their little sing-song voices in my leftover packing boxes with heavy packing tape so that they will never escape me. I want these little years– the ones when they want to play all day – and beg me to stop doing laundry so they can just be with me for 5 minutes — to last.
As I was trudging up the stairs exhausted the other night, I tried to recap in my mind all the things I had accomplished during the day. I became a little agitated because I couldn’t think of many things I had crossed off my growing to-do list. But then I remembered the important 2 hours I’d spent crawling on colored carpet squares.
The girls and I had gone with Ben to the church where he works because I was meeting some friends there, and since we needed to wait for his meetings to end before leaving, we spent the whole day there.
We went into the K-5 room which has these fun, colorful carpet circles and began inventing all different kinds of games. I was a chomping alligator in hot lava while they were toads hopping from circle to circle. I was the leader of a secret “flower” club up on the little play balcony. We were robots that could only jump to certain colored islands.
We ran and laughed and played till we were slap-happy with fatigue. And while those 2 hours of fun were clearly not on my list of things that really needed to get done, I went to bed feeling satisfied that night.
I’ve noticed that since living in a walkable area and having the ability to run a lot more of the errands during the day, my days are sometimes packed. I also took on a part-time job scoring essays from home this month, so the to-do lists seem to be multiplying.
I ended up needing to create a separate list of things entitled “important things”, and I try to make sure that even if some of the things on my regular to-do lists don’t get accomplished, I at least do the important things each week.
Most of the important things involve people, and one of those is my 82-year-old grandmother who lives 3 blocks away and recently was told to stop driving. This a little more difficult for her because she doesn’t have the strength of a 33-year-old to walk all over town like I do. So one of the new “important things” on my list each week is to take the girls to visit her– not out of obligation or anything, but because I value time with her and know it helps lighten her day at a difficult time in her life.
Sometimes this means grabbing a 45-minute window of time, leaving the kitchen a mess or a chore undone, to go spend time with her. And while I wasn’t raised to be okay leaving a mess, I think sometimes in order to put people first in our lives– not our houses or material things– it’s necessary. Obviously, there comes a time when things really do need to get cleaned up, and I don’t want us living in a disgusting mess or anything, but loosening our reigns on how perfect the house should look at all times can open up space for our relationships to grow.
When I’m 82-years old like my grandma, I hope that my phrase of satisfaction reads something like this: “My life is full because I put first things first in my life. I put relationships and people in front of my stuff.” as opposed to, “Wow, I have had a perfectly clean house for the past 82 years– how full and satisfying life is.”
So this post used to end right here, and there was no “part 1” in the title. That was a week ago when I thought that this was the easiest, simplest concept in the world…… when sunny strolls to grandma’s house trumped dirty dishes in the sink (okay, they still totally do, only I’ve realized that sometimes extra complications arise that challenge our ideals…. and that’s why there’s a part 2, so stay tuned if you can relate!)
If you read “Moving Forward,” you know the story – the desire to make a change, the sacrifice it often takes to do so, and the shifts in perception that Continue reading “Reclaiming Our Lives”
It’s been a rough few months. Our entire family took turns suffering from everything from the stomach flu to pneumonia, I went through a miscarriage and bad reaction to anesthesia, and we moved from my in-laws’ house (where we lived for 8 months.) in the middle of it all. Oh, and did I mention that my husband is in ministry? . . . And given that this all was happening right before Easter, his schedule was pretty crazy.
So this move — though it occurred at a difficult time — was a move forward. If you’re wondering how this relates to RP, I’ll give you a little of the back-story on why we chose to Continue reading “Moving Forward: And All These Privileges”
