Comfort

I like to be comfortable.  I like wearing comfortable clothes and comfortable shoes.  I like sitting in comfortable chairs wrapped in comfortable blankets.  I like comfortable situations and comfortable conversations.  I find being uncomfortable...uncomfortable.  The problem is that I'm not called to live a comfortable life.  I'm called to live a life of purpose and meaning which means embracing the uncomfortable.  And though I fully believe and feel passionate about living bravely and outside my comfort zone, I often revert to my comfortable ways.  It's an easy place to be; it feels safe and manageable.  The problem about living there is that I am left unsatisfied and unfulfilled.  Yet the pull to stay comfortable is very strong, both internally and externally.

Internally, I think, "Life is good.  Why rock the boat?"  Life seems manageable, under control.  (Or as under control as it can be in our household!)  There's enough activity and unexpected situations to give the illusion of living outside my comfort zone.  But it's not true.  And so after a while, I'm left feeling restless.

Externally, I am told that we all have and like our comfort zones. I take this as permission to stay in my zone.  After all, we all have one; it's normal.  Besides, I'm told, I should do things that feel good or come naturally to me.  I don't need to do things that would cause discomfort.  While I agree that it's good to use my natural gifts and talents, I think I use them as an excuse to justify staying in my comfort zone.  I talk about facing my fears and getting out of my zone, but too often I decide to stick with my zone and just dream of what it would be like to venture out.  But after a while, I'm left feeling restless and unfulfilled.

So how do I embrace the uncomfortable and make it a daily habit?  A lifestyle?  I so wish there was an easy answer!  But I'm learning that it takes time and practice...lots of practice.  The good thing is that God gives me a lot of opportunities.  Some days are great.  I embrace the uncomfortable and live bravely.  Some days I stay in my zone refusing to be moved.  (I generally don't like those days.)  I find that stepping out can be uncomfortable and I second guess myself, thinking I look foolish. I'm discovering, though, that the bad feelings I'm left with when I stay put are not worth the momentary comfort.  So here I go again.....

Officer M.

It's hard being an outsider.  Imagine yourself as a 14 year old deaf boy being bussed to a neighboring high school.  Not because there isn't a school in your community, but because your own school can't accommodate your needs.  You watch as other kids talk and laugh together knowing you can't participate because you can't hear them and they can't sign for you.  You spend much of your time in a small classroom with adults; isolated and separated from other students. That's the life of a boy who recently arrived at my kids' high school.   He is an outsider.  But then came Officer M.... 

Officer M. is a security officer at the school.  She loves her job because she loves the kids.  She talks with them, jokes with them, hugs them, and makes sure they're making good choices.  She also wears a hearing aid in each ear.  She too, knows what it's like to be an outsider.  And now, she has become the bridge to belonging for this boy.  She walks with him around the school introducing him to students and staff.  She spends time with him, talks with him (she spent time brushing up on her signing), encourages him and laughs with him.  He's beginning to change.  He used to walk with his head down.  Now, he holds his head up so he can see the students who are waving and giving him high fives.  He smiles.  He's beginning to belong.  It's a beautiful thing to see.  And all of this, because someone has taken the time to bridge the gap between outsider and member.

I know what it's like to be an outsider.  It's hard.  It's lonely.  It's uncomfortable.  I've been blessed to have wonderful people be that bridge for me.  I am forever grateful for them.  And Officer M. reminds me to be the bridge for someone else...

Letting it go

Letting it go is hard to do.  My son couldn't find his jacket the other morning.  For most of my kids misplacing an object is frustrating, but not the end of the world.  For this son, it has the potential to ruin a perfectly good day.  He does what many autistic people do, he perseverates on an idea or situation and has trouble letting it go and moving on.  (Notice how I used a big word there?  I helped with science and math homework last night...Using a big word makes me feel better.)  Basically, he becomes obsessive about an idea or situation.  It can become all consuming.  We have worked for years to develop strategies and techniques to help him 'let it go'.   So as I saw the level of his anxiety elevate, I reminded him to do just that.  He took time to sit alone and take deep breaths.  We talked about possible solutions; looking for the jacket, asking his teachers if he left it in class, or getting a new one.  In the end, we talked about not letting a lost jacket ruin his day.  He finally said he was ready to let it go.  I hoped he was, but I knew better.  He has let go of things before only to bring them up again and again.  Sure enough, on the way to school, he started getting anxious about his jacket again. 

That's the funny thing about letting go; just when you think you have, it can come back.  You let go of the past, only to have it rear its ugly head.  You let go of a hurt, but something is said that reminds you of its pain.  You let go of certain habits, only to be ensnared again.  When I tell my son to let it go, it seems so easy, so final.  I wish it were.  Instead, I find that I have to remind myself to let it go...again.  I can start to get frustrated with myself.  Why can't I just let it go and be done with it?  Because I'm human and far from perfect.  So I let it go again, hoping it's for good this time..... 

Quilts

My mom is an avid quilter.  And has she been busy!  When I visited this Summer, I was able to see many of her quilting projects.  Some of them are finished, some have been started, and some are in the planning stages. She made quilts in various fruit shapes for all of the tables at her church's women's retreat. (The theme was fruit of the Spirit.  They were a big hit!)  She made a beautiful 3-D quilted flower pillow for my sister.  And she even made a full sized quilt for me. (I take it with me to my weekly bible study because the room is so cold.  The other women are jealous.) My mom has always enjoyed sewing, but I've never seen her make so many things.  Part of it is because she finally retired, so she has the time.  But the driving force is really her eyes.  You see, my grandmother became blind due to macular degeneration.  It was difficult to watch an avid reader lose her eyesight.  And the type of macular degeneration she had is hereditary.  My mom knows that she, too, could lose her eyesight to this disease.  Her comment to me was that she wanted to quilt and sew as much as she could before her eyes give out.  She knows that her time may be limited to do something she loves and she does not want to miss out.

It made me think... I often put off doing things that I enjoy.  I know in my head that my time on earth is limited and I should live life to the fullest, but too often that knowledge is overridden by my to do list.  I tell myself that I can do what I love tomorrow, but today I must accomplish certain tasks.  Now there are some tasks that are time sensitive and can't wait, I understand that.  The problem comes when I begin to see everything on my list in that way.  The next thing I know, days or weeks have passed since doing what I truly love.  As time goes on, it becomes easier to keep pushing it off until I can't even remember what it was that I wanted to do in the first place.  But what if I lived fully aware of my limited time?  How would I manage my time?  What things would suddenly seem less urgent?  What things would become more urgent?

The possibility of going blind has given my mom clarity.  She spends time doing what she loves.  She cherishes and nurtures it by practicing, taking classes, and spending time with others who share her passion.  In the process she not only makes beautiful things for us to enjoy, but she reminds me to choose wisely.  My time is limited.... 

High School

High school makes me feel stupid.  When I was in high school, I was a fairly good student.  Not valedictorian good like my husband, but I did okay.  In college, I even managed to graduate with honors.  I went on to law school and graduated.  I studied, took the bar exam, and passed.  By all accounts, I would seem like a woman with some intelligence.  That all came to a screeching halt this week as I tried to help my son with Algebra 1.  I found myself looking at a worksheet filled with strange formulas and graphs; none of which seemed familiar to me.  Fortunately, one of my daughters has the same class and teacher so I asked her for help.  She began explaining the formulas and graphs to me.  I nodded as she spoke.  And when she was done, she asked if I understood.  I had to tell her that I honestly didn't because she was speaking some kind of foreign language and I needed her to speak English.  She smiled and kindly explained again, but slower this time.  We managed to get the homework done, but I was left feeling very inadequate!

Somewhere between passing the bar and now, I have lost, what seems to be, valuable information.  I had forgotten how to define range and domain for a graph.  I had forgotten how to write a function in the f(x) format.  I know I learned it before.  After all, I had taken Algebra.  Yes it was many, many years ago, but still, I should have remembered. Right?! 

For some reason, not remembering made me feel inadequate..less than...not up to par.  I could hear the voices in my head saying that I've let my intellectual side go.  That I have filled my head with useless and unnecessary stuff.  That's when I began to think about what qualifies as valuable.  Something is valuable when it is highly important or esteemed.  Well, I can tell you that the definitions of range and domain or how to write a function have not been of high importance to me since I took Algebra.  But my kids and my husband are.  And over the years I have learned valuable things about them and myself.  I've learned a lot about child development. (My undergraduate degree is in child development and family studies. There's a lot they don't teach you!)   I've learned how to negotiate and compromise.  I've learned how to extend grace and receive it when given.  I've learned how to love, even when it's hard.  I remember important events and milestones.  I remember people who have passed through our lives, helping us and loving us.  These are highly important and esteemed.

I have come to terms with the fact that there is a lot I have forgotten.  That's what text books, the Internet, and siblings are for.  But there is so much more that I hold near to my heart and cherish.  And that's what's truly valuable.

Challenge Accepted

My response to fear: Challenge Accepted!  Earlier this year we told our kids that we would be going to a large water park for a vacation.  There was a catch, however.  We would have to leave very early in the morning.  I'm talking leave our house by five in the morning early.  Not an easy task with five teenagers who really like to sleep!   My oldest daughter looked us in the eyes and said, 'challenge accepted.'  Sure enough, they were up, packed, dressed, and waiting in the van by 5 a.m.  They were not about to let anything get in their way.

As a family, we have repeated this phrase many times.  Whenever an obstacle presents itself trying to hinder us from achieving a goal, someone says, 'challenge accepted'.   It's a great reminder to continue pushing toward the goal.  We rally together and get the job done.   So as this new year starts (yes, my years follow the school calendar) and I begin pushing forward again, I am prepared.  When fear says it can't happen, or things will never change, or you will be disappointed, or you're not good enough, or you can do that later, I have my answer.  Challenge Accepted!

Pictures

In last weeks Parade section of the Sunday paper, a woman asked why she generally liked the live version of herself in the mirror, but didn't always like what she saw in a photo.  The writer from Ask Marilyn told her that what is seen in the mirror is a reversed image that you are familiar with.  'A photo, however, shows you what others see.  When you see your face that way, it looks strange to you...'  I can relate.

After having my younger kids, I began gaining weight.  During my pregnancy, I had trouble gaining weight so I was put on a high calorie diet; 6,000 calories to be exact.  I ate all the time; especially the last few days in the hospital before the kids were born.  I would start with two breakfasts.  Yes, two.  Then it was a mid morning snack, followed by two lunches.  By mid afternoon, I was having a snack or two just in time for my two dinners to arrive.  Then about an hour before going to sleep I would have my evening snack.  I even had a snack in the middle of the night.   During that time, I grew tired of the constant eating.  The problem, however, was that the eating became a habit that I continued after the kids were born.  As a result, I gained a lot of weight.  I could see that I was getting bigger, but I had grown familiar with what I saw.  My wake up call came when I saw myself in a picture.  I stared at it for quite some time in utter disbelief.  Had I really allowed myself to get to such an unhealthy point?  Did I really look like that?  Not only had I gained extra pounds, but I had resorted to wearing my husband's extra large shirts!  I was finally seeing what others saw; a woman who had neglected her health and had given up on trying.   That photo was my catalyst for change!  

Which makes wonder what others see as I go about living my life now.  Do they see me differently than I see myself?  When I make a sarcastic comment, do they think I'm funny or  mean?  When I offer to help, do they think I'm doing it out of love or because I want recognition or control?   When I express anger, is it proportional to the circumstances or does it seem out of balance?  When I am teaching, do they see a desire to share knowledge or someone who wants to show superiority?  Do they see a generally positive person or  one who focuses on the negative?   Getting an accurate picture is important.  There have been times when I thought I was being funny, loving, appropriately angry, or generally positive, but I wasn't.  I was negative, angry, prideful, controlling and mean.  Fortunately, I have some friends and family (my kids in particular) who are willing to show me what I really look like.  Sometimes the picture isn't pretty and it makes me uncomfortable, but it's what I need.