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.....
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
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....
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....
Saturday, September 8, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
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!
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!
Sunday, August 26, 2012
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.
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.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Comfort Zone
This past week has been filled with preparations for the new school year. My four younger children are starting high school. They have registered, signed up for classes, and purchased shirts with the school's name. They even attended 'fish camp' for incoming freshmen. The week left them excited and anxious. One of my daughters commented that she was nervous about meeting new people and making new friends. At school, she can be quiet and slow to join in with a group. I told her that the new year was a good time for her to step out of her comfort zone. She responded, 'they call it a comfort zone for a reason, mom...It's comfortable!' We both laughed.
She and I can be very alike. We like our comfort zone. It's comfortable. But I've noticed that I can miss out on wonderful things when I refuse to leave it. I can also become satisfied with okay, instead of what is better or best. I become satisfied with what I know, instead of pushing toward something new that would be better. So my daughter and I have agreed to help each other step out of our comfort zones. We are going to encourage each other to be bold and courageous. We are not going to settle for okay....we are going for the best.
She and I can be very alike. We like our comfort zone. It's comfortable. But I've noticed that I can miss out on wonderful things when I refuse to leave it. I can also become satisfied with okay, instead of what is better or best. I become satisfied with what I know, instead of pushing toward something new that would be better. So my daughter and I have agreed to help each other step out of our comfort zones. We are going to encourage each other to be bold and courageous. We are not going to settle for okay....we are going for the best.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Band Aids
How often do we try to use a band aid when something more is needed? One evening my husband was cutting vegetables for dinner and cut his finger. At first, he applied pressure to stop the bleeding. It didn't help. So he elevated his hand and wrapped a towel tightly around his finger. The bleeding slowed so we tried to bandage it. But the band aid was not enough. As soon as he moved his finger, the wound would open up and start to bleed again. He needed more. So off we went to the minor emergency room where he received several stitches.
Sometimes a band aid is just not enough for the wound presented. Yet, I think we often try to put band aids on the emotional and spiritual wounds of people around us. I call them the 'Jesus loves you band aids'. They are the bible verses and Christian sayings that we tell people in order to make them feel better about difficult circumstances. Think about it... A man shares that his spouse has left him and he is devastated. He is told to remember that Jesus loves him. A couple shares that a child has died. They are told, it's God's will. A woman shares that she is overwhelmed by mothering small children. She is told that God does not give her anymore than she can handle... Jesus loves you band aids... We hand them out to people hoping to cover their gaping wounds. We do it because we don't know what else to do or say. Or because that's what's been handed to us. But they are not enough. More is needed.
So what is that more? I wish I knew. I think it's different for each person and set of circumstances. I know for myself, I just want someone to listen. I don't want verses or sayings. I don't want advice or steps to follow. I don't want judgement or for my circumstances to be minimized. I want someone to tenderly listen as I share what's on my heart. And I want to experience love and compassion in response. It seems easy enough. So why do we hand out band aids instead? Maybe because when we listen and enter into another person's pain, it gets messy. It's not clear cut. There's no quick and easy answer. Most of us don't like messy. We like clear cut. We like quick and easy. But I think God calls us to get messy. He knows that band aids aren't enough; we need more....
Sometimes a band aid is just not enough for the wound presented. Yet, I think we often try to put band aids on the emotional and spiritual wounds of people around us. I call them the 'Jesus loves you band aids'. They are the bible verses and Christian sayings that we tell people in order to make them feel better about difficult circumstances. Think about it... A man shares that his spouse has left him and he is devastated. He is told to remember that Jesus loves him. A couple shares that a child has died. They are told, it's God's will. A woman shares that she is overwhelmed by mothering small children. She is told that God does not give her anymore than she can handle... Jesus loves you band aids... We hand them out to people hoping to cover their gaping wounds. We do it because we don't know what else to do or say. Or because that's what's been handed to us. But they are not enough. More is needed.
So what is that more? I wish I knew. I think it's different for each person and set of circumstances. I know for myself, I just want someone to listen. I don't want verses or sayings. I don't want advice or steps to follow. I don't want judgement or for my circumstances to be minimized. I want someone to tenderly listen as I share what's on my heart. And I want to experience love and compassion in response. It seems easy enough. So why do we hand out band aids instead? Maybe because when we listen and enter into another person's pain, it gets messy. It's not clear cut. There's no quick and easy answer. Most of us don't like messy. We like clear cut. We like quick and easy. But I think God calls us to get messy. He knows that band aids aren't enough; we need more....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)