Unwillingness

I remember the days of Junior High Science class taught by Mr. Fry.  Now, in my expert middle school mind Mr. Fry was not hip in the 80's.  If I remember correctly, he wore plaid pants from the 70's and white shirts every day.  He carried pens in his front shirt pocket.  He was not the handsomest of men.  He had a funny way of walking/hopping/striding about the front of the room when teaching.  His voice was shrill and I wouldn't call him a gentle spirit.   However unusual Mr. Fry was  as a human being in my perception, Mr. Fry changed the path of my life.  I am forever grateful to him.

I was a pretty good student...mostly A's and B's...usually A's back in the day...until Junior High Science class.  For some reason, I went into a slump and was not excelling.  I was interested in music and boys and exciting classes like Enrichment Class where I got to study and research things I was interested in such as horses (always a love in my life).  Science, to me at the time, had no connection to what I was going to do or needed to learn.  Mr. Fry, as unusual as he was in his teaching style, didn't keep my attention and I became despondent in class not showing much effort.

At that time we were studying a unit on geology.  Now, I love nature.  I love being outside more than inside.  I love enjoying all that God created on this earth.  But rocks?  Come on.  What is interesting about rocks?  Mind you, these weren't gemstones.  They were your basic rocks you might find in your driveway or garden.  The test for the unit was coming fast and we were to recognize 50 different types of rocks by sight and know their class and name and specifications.  You might not know this about me, but I am horrible at memorizing things.  Even to this day, I struggle with that part of my mind.   Memorizing the material seemed like an impossible task and I wasn't trying as hard as I could have.

I was slumped in my seat, not really listening in class when Mr. Fry stopped beside me.  He looked at me and said, "Miss Hancock, you are your own worst enemy.  If you think you can't do something you will never be able to do it."  YIKES!  Singled out among my fellow students, called by name and I felt like my fortune was read!  I was humiliated and angry and slumped further in my seat, but that day a seed was planted.  The seed was...someone saw potential in me to succeed  and I didn't see it within myself.  I had given up on myself.  I had written my own path and had chosen the road of unwillingness.  Mr. Fry, for all intents and purposes became a catalyst to change.  Something within me was challenged to not give up when he singled me out and I wanted to prove him differently.

I searched for ways of memorizing those rocks.  I made index cards, lists and studied and to no avail...I could not remember more than 10-12 of the rocks.  I got the idea to put the rocks and their information to music.   The song I chose was "Over the Rainbow" from the Wizard of Oz (as it was very popular back then and I had taped it on my recorder and listened to it a million times).  The test came and the identification process started....rocks 1-50.  Amazingly...I got an A on that test....my original arrangement of the song afforded my brain the right language to memorize the facts.  I was stunned.  Mr. Fry was ecstatic and gave me the "I told you so" speech...this time celebrating my success in front of everyone. 

I learned something that day.  I learned a valuable life lesson.  I have the power within me to create my path but it takes a willingness.  Being willing is a choice.  It's not genetic.  It's not bred into us.  It is a choice we have when we are faced with things we don't want to learn or do or tackle in this life.  Willingness is a mindset that will afford us the opportunity to learn things we never thought we could.  Willingness is a mindset that affects my courage to try new things.  Willingness is a mindset that affects my entire life. 

Thanks, Mr. Fry.  I am deeply grateful for what you taught me that day.

What makes you strong?

I love to read.  It doesn't matter what medium:  Nook, paperback or audible.  Reading brings me pleasure and opens up the world of new thoughts and ideas.  

I have always loved reading (Thanks Mom for reading to me as a kid!).  I remember when I was in sixth grade in Union Elementary (River View School District in Ohio), the library was my favorite room in the school.  I would often check out ten books or more at a time (The librarian was my friend.) and I would read them in a week and turn them back in for ten more.  Instead of going to the card file (Remember those little index cards?), I would peruse the shelves...looking at the covers...opening them to read snippets of the story and see if what I read piqued my interest.  I read ALL kinds of books:  fiction, non-fiction, biographies, autobiographies...whatever else was left...even how-to books.  Reading was an escape into other people's world.  It was better than TV or a movie.  

Two years ago, a book was suggested to me by a friend that really made me think about what creates joy within me.  The book was Find Your Strongest Life.  It suggested that when we are passionate about something we feel strong. It makes us feel good and creative and at our best.  This got me thinking in a new direction with new vocabulary which made me think new thoughts.  The author, Marcus Buckingham, asked the reader to finish the sentence..."I feel strong when..."

So here they are -- my top five:

• I feel strong when I am teaching the "hows" of creating music....how to exude passion in your voice and through your instrument...and in showing my students -- (those who are above the rudimentary skills level) that they hold the key opening up the story inside each piece of music.  It takes analysis to find the individual secret within each student because no two students are the same, as well as the creativity to explain it how they can grasp it.  If at first you don't succeed...describe it again in a different way.  It is most fulfilling when they respond and find the passion within themselves.  It makes me feel like I am making a difference in their path as I help them find the key inside their spirit that unlocks the melody within.  It creates another path of joy. 

• I feel strong when I'm sharing ideas with others (in general)...listening to theirs...seeking truth....and considering.  Not necessarily finding an answer...but it's the journey..the process that invigorates me...a think tank of sorts.  I love the brainstorming...throwing out ideas...taking things apart...and figuring out the whys and hows...regardless of how silly or crazy.  I like to do this with all generations...anyone who will join in the fun.  I love it when the ideas aren't thrown out to persuade...and the pressure isn't there to make a decision.  It generates a creativity within me that I love.

• I feel strong when I am playing/singing and telling the story of the song myself...connecting with a piece of music just for me.  I get lost and time just flies by...especially if I am writing or creating original music. If others are listening in...so be it....even better perhaps to see if I can get them to glimpse what I see/feel.  It doesn't matter if I'm with a band or by myself.  I like the playing off the band members...if they will let themselves be free...and feel and create.  The power of the collective is amazing at that point.  This creates a deep sense of peace..purpose...and yet energizes me.

• I feel strong when I am doing something for myself...such as reading...exercising..sitting by the sea...soaking up vitamin D...even weeding the garden....taking time for me.  This is my refuel time.  It gives my brain time to be free...think of whatever.  Sometimes my best processing is done in the quiet of doing something as I described.  A thought path can be followed...and hammered out...and put back together again...with Plans...A, B, C, et cetera.  There is no end to the options, opportunities.

•  I feel strong when I can make order out of chaos.  This could be ...organizing things, trips, people, or thoughts or even designing a garden.  I like breaking down a task into smaller bite sized pieces. Even though I love creating uncluttered order, if conflict gets injected into the mix, it totally loses its strengthening power, and becomes a weakness. 

The exercise was eye opening in pinpointing what made me feel "strong".  Crazy me...at first I had to process whether or not it was okay to feel "strong".  At that point in time in my life I was feeling anything but strong or having positive self-worth.  However, I was able to narrow down times when I felt strong and looking back, it is a good blueprint of how I was created to be.  I needed to read it and recognize those strengths within myself.  After all, I believe growth happens when I look deep inside myself and am able to view myself with a different lens.  

So..what makes YOU feel strong?

Humanness

I must admit something out loud today.  On paper. 

I am HUMAN.

I am "imperfect, flawed and ordinary" - in the words of Trudy Archambeau.

Therefore, I make mistakes.  I mess up.  I sin.  I err.  I fail and fail miserably.

It's another one of those things I have learned about myself and for some reason at times it is VERY hard to admit.

Being human sometimes looks like me beating myself up over bad choices I have made.  Being human sometimes looks like me doing the happy dance (with little coordination) celebrating a good choice I have made.  Being human means realizing when I have come to the end of myself and I CAN'T.  (Not that I won't try -- cause I was wired to try and try and try again.)  Can't = the realization that whatever I am attempting is beyond my capabilities (like lifting 100 pound bags of anything).

In my life I have had plenty of time to look back at past choices (good and bad)  and see the path that came from making them.  I can trace how my life path changed because of this or that action.  I can look back and feel sadness or joy.  Either one makes me contemplate.  I will be very honest here and say that I have a tendency to focus on the negative choices I have made over the years.   I wonder what life would be like if I hadn't made the choices I have.  Some decisions were "worse" than others in my mind...but alas, that is the human speaking in me.  Errors are errors.  There is no small or big error.  It's an error.  Good choices are good choices.  Bad choices are bad choices. 

In wanting to be healthy and move forward in my life, I need to remember not to" cling to the past mistakes no matter how much time I spent making them" (Dr. Laura).  I see the mistake.  I know the mistake.  I lived the mistake.  I chose the mistake.  I acknowledge my part of them.  I even confess and take responsibility  (whatever that might look like) for my choice.  Then, I need to remember -- LOOK FORWARD and MOVE ON working at not to repeating the same mistake.  I can't cling to the mistake I made 25 years ago -- if I did how healthy would I be?  I wouldn't be healthy at all.  I believe nothing is gained from reliving the past over and over and over.  So that being said, I am learning there is a time and place, alas, a season for everything. (Ecclesiastes 3 - or in the days of the old 45's - I would play that record over and over - the  song Turn! Turn! Turn! By THE BYRDS). 

There is a time for everything.  EVERYTHING.  That means the opposite of my previous paragraphs are true.  I can't dwell on past choices that have brought me joy either.  I can't cling to them...and hold them in high esteem and not move forward.  I cannot relive the past and be stuck in that one grand moment.  It is time for new thoughts.  New experiences.  New horizons.  New joys.  New paths created by my choices or making good choices to stay on the same path.  I need to acknowledge my part in them.  Confess them.  Acknowledge they are a part of my life path and MOVE ON.

For me, growth looks like accepting my humanness...the negative AND the positive.

MY CONFESSION

Have you ever caught yourself in a habit?  Good or bad...it can be eye-opening when you have the ability for even a moment to stand back and view yourself as someone else would see you in that moment.

I discovered a habit I have in communication.  This habit occurs especially when I am talking about myself.  Now that I have discovered it...I have had to use the delete button multiple times and each time I am now asking myself - why did you phrase it that way?

Wanna know what it is?

I often use the word "just" as a clarifier.  I mean OFTEN.  VERY OFTEN.

You might think...GASP...what in the world?  Oh no!  That is awful!  (In writing these past couple paragraphs, I have typed the word "just" at least three different times and had to erase it.)  Or you might be thinking...that Deb Anderson....she is NUTSO!  Why in the world does it make a difference what clarifier she uses or that she uses one at all?

I have realized something, though, in using the word "just".  I have chosen to use the word in the wrong way.  I use it in a way that minimizes my thought or feeling which translates to minimizing myself.  Looking at the definition...when used as adverb it means exact or precisely.  I find I use it incorrectly and exact or precise is not at all what it means.  Let me give you an example.

Think of questions and responses.

"Who is there?"  It's just me.
"Where are you going on vacation?"  It's not that far -- just to the beach.
"What are you reading these days?"  It's a just a book I had on my shelf.
"How are you feeling?"  I am just so tired these days.


See how it minimizes the answer?  Just me....JUST me. It makes me sound less important than if I were to say:  It's me.  ME.  "Just to the beach".  JUST?  Are you kidding me?  The beach is the most awesome place in the world for a vacation (my personal opinion).  JUST -- no way.  "Just" doesn't even belong in the same sentence with the word beach!  "I am just so tired these days."  Just tired...minimizes how I feel.  It makes my feelings seem less important than someone else's.

See what I mean?

So I am on a quest to stop using the word "just".  I am on a quest to not minimize my feelings or thoughts.  I am trying to break the habit...of minimizing me.

Being a parent - reflections for Mother's Day 2015

I have learned this lesson well over the past 17.6 years....parenting is not for the faint of heart.  When the babies first come it takes every ounce of physical strength you have to push them into this world...and every ounce of physical strength as they tire you out by eating around the clock.  :)  Then as they grow, it takes every ounce of self-control not to succumb to their one track mind -  ME FIRST.  Adolescence brings on a whole new set of challenges as they are testing their wings (not fully formed) to fly.  This time of life takes every ounce of creative discipline, unconditional tough love, focus and tireless consistency. 

There is a saying "It was the best of times and the worst of times."  I fully understand that saying now that I have three teenagers in the house.  I think I have heard it all in the past three years.  Rarely does anything surprise me that they say or do. There are days when you feel loved, but their choices keep you up at night.  There are nights when you rest well, but your strength is gone by 7am after you try and get them to school on time.  There are times when you wonder if you are teaching them what they need to know to be productive, respectful, God-fearing citizens of this world.  You wonder if you have done enough or too much or not enough for them.  You pray and try not to worry, but you do anyway.  You read parenting books and articles year round hoping to find something that will help you connect and be a better parent.  All your energy goes first to them.  Your thoughts, your choices, your actions put their well-being at the forefront.

Before you have kids, nobody tells you of this marathon you must endure.  They tell you of only the easy, the cute, and the good things.  You don't realize what is coming...and it's probably a good thing you don't because if it were broadcasted how hard parenting is no one would have kids!  LOL. 

Parenting can lift your spirits unlike anything else or make your spirit sink lower than the black hole is deep.  There is great joy and great sadness.   The job comes with extreme emotions swinging like a pendulum.  Children are the light of your life and the challenge of a lifetime. 

I cherish our kids...even in the hard times when I want to sell them at a yard sale for free.  I wouldn't trade them for anyone else's kids even when I'm so bone weary I can't speak complete sentences.  I endure.  I press on.  I protect and instruct and enjoy....day after day being thankful for each moment I have them in my home.

Why is the option of giving up not an option when it comes to parenting? 

Because I know the day is coming when I  will wake up and not have to get them on the bus anymore.  I will not have to pack lunches or add money to their lunch accounts.  There will be no more homework to harp on.  No more parent teacher conferences.  No crazy chauffeuring here or there.  No more cheering at games or events.  No friends dropping by or making the meal stretch to feed more than it was intended.  The days are coming when I will get a raise because they have their own car insurance.  I know that there are days coming when I won't hear someone banging on the bathroom door yelling, "Don't take all the hot water!!"  There are days coming when my car will be in the driveway and I won't wonder if someone has left enough gas in it so I can to get to work the next day.  There are days coming when I will miss their hugs because they will be out on their own living their lives apart from me.

I realize that I won't stop being a parent just because they left the house and the next phase might be even harder than this one.  So for now, I endure and love them and bite my tongue and love them and enforce consequences and love them and find creative ways to let them know the universe doesn't revolve around them and love them... even when I am exhausted and at my wits end  and out of creative resources.   For me, I would choose no other option.

Parenting is not for the faint of heart.

Pain Scale

I found this pain scale at my orthopedic doctor's office and it made me think.  Number one, I was drawn to the little faces that try to express the words to describe how a person might feel when one is in pain.  ( I like pictures as well as words.)   Number two, it got me thinking about the pain in my own life and if I could relate to what it described.   Of course, this little scale is describing physical pain.  I have had a few experiences with physical pain....from stepping on a nail as a kid...to a having the branch of a tree puncture my eyeball...to two root canals....to a frozen shoulder...to aches and pains after physical labor...to childbirth.  I could rate all of those incidents on the scale...with childbirth (without an epidural) and the exacerbation of the frozen shoulder in certain movements right up there at a 10. 

My mind then went beyond physical pain.   In my opinion there are three categories of pain:  physical, emotional and what I would call spiritual pain.  In my own life I have experienced all three of those types of pain.  I have experience emotional injuries from relationships that have sent me down a dark spiral into depression and grief.  My faith has been severely tested and I believe I have experienced what is called the "dark night of the soul" where I have lost my hope and faith and have ached inside my soul.  In looking at the scale above and modifying it for emotional pain, I believe that I have experienced a 10 on the emotional and spiritual pain scale, too.

Having spent my whole life interacting with people of all shapes, sizes, ages and abilities in many circumstances, in work and in my personal life, I have had the opportunity to  observe people who are in pain.  I have observed all three types of pain.  Some people are able to cope with their pain and continue to live life as positively as they can.  Others I have observed are crippled by their pain - stopped in their tracks.  They can focus on nothing but the pain and life seems to stop for them.  Sometimes it stops for a short season.  For others, they are paralyzed where they once were productive.

Thinking about that leads me to questions such as:  What makes some people push through their chronic pain?  What makes some people who have chronic or intermittent pain not be able to continue to live life?  What drives each type of person and where do I fit in those two generalized categories?  I know where I WANT to fit.  I want to be a survivor.  I want to be not just one who survives, but one who lives life fully even in the midst of the pain.  I want to affect those around me positively.  I don't want to be a complainer.   I want to be someone who doesn't give up.  I want to have hope until the day I die that things will improve...the pain will lessen or even one day disappear.

I don't have the answers.  I have no idea how others cope with the pain they experience other than I observe them adapt and accept and continue to move forward.  Does moving forward mean I don't have pain?  No.  Does it mean that I downplay the emptiness or spiritual darkness I experience?  No.  It doesn't mean that I ignore the pain and pretend it doesn't exist.  It means I continue to live.  I continue to pray.  I continue to believe that God is working on my behalf and sees my struggles.  I read the Scriptures.  I read or listen to topics that bring hope.  I lean on those that come around me for support and am thankful when someone reaches out to me and calls or sends a note or text.  It means I seek help for my pain whether it be in physical, emotional or spiritual therapy.  It means that I search for something good...even if seems small and minute.  It means that I remain thankful that I am still breathing and able to see the beautiful sunrise for another day.  In doing so, I cope.  I accept.  I live - and sometimes the pain dissipates or I become strong enough to more forward IN SPITE of it.

The Waiting Room

I have discovered that I am an impatient person.  I think it goes hand in hand with that Control Freak problem I spoke of last week.  Sometimes I don't want to wait.  I want what I want when I want it and why should I have to wait???

Breathe.  Out.   In.  Slowly. 

So much of my life has been about waiting.  I don't get what I want (and sometimes I thank God that I don't) or in the time frame that I want it in or the way that I want it.  Contrary to the popular belief of our children -- adults don't always get what they want!

 If I have learned nothing else in the past four years it has been that there is great value in waiting patiently.  There is value in taking a step back and breathing in and out and noticing how deep my breath is.  There is value in taking time and not rushing ahead with my first response and action to a situation.   There is value in waiting and seeing how things play out - whatever that might look like.   There is value in holding my tongue and being still and listening first.

I love directing things -- the choir comes to mind here.  I love getting everyone on the same page musically and pulling the same dynamics and musicality out of them so that they are headed in the right direction.  Directing a choir is one of my greatest joys after the hard work of learning the music is done.  I watch the singers and inspire with my eyes and hands and movements while keeping time.  Pulling more from my singers than they ever expected of themselves is one of my greatest joys. 

But alas, in the waiting room I can't direct, orchestrate, push, prod or control.  I have found I must use patience.

Does that mean life stops while I am waiting for the "next thing"?  No, a good coping strategy is to continue to live life.  Move forward....step by step...moment by moment...day by day...but don't look too far ahead or live in "what if land".  When I do this I find that there is growth in the waiting room.  I develop a tolerance for the silence and the slower pace in the waiting.   I find that there can be peace in the waiting if I don't try to direct or control or orchestrate or push or prod the timeline.

I am also finding that the waiting room requires more.  More sleep than usual.  More "me" time than usual.  More slow walks - not for exercise but for reflecting, breathing, thinking, clearing my thoughts and worries.  A different kind of music to be played.  It requires a bit more ice cream, too.  :)  It requires a different type of kindness to myself which helps the stress of the waiting drain away - even at intervals or for a time.  It's not easy, but it's possible.