As pretty good, fun, loud movies go, I can recommend The Avengers: The Age of Ultron , which we saw over the weekend. Here's a link to a funny review from The New Yorker and I'm really only linking it because it's funny http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2015/05/04/fighting-on.
In the movie, Black Widow (Scarlett Johannsen) shares a tender moment with Bruce Banner, in which she tells him she was sterilized as part of her assassin training graduation. She says something like, "you still think you're the only one who's a monster?" I am taking the quote somewhat out of context, but we certainly see the character grappling with what it means to not be able to be a mother. And implying that not having children is something at best 'other' and at worst, disgusting.
Notably, a number of women I know in real life recently have spoken about what it means to them to be childless in our culture. One woman said there is a way of feeling, 'anonymous' as a childless woman. Another, who has chosen not to have children, continues to get family pressure - her parents make remarks like, "There's still time for you to give us a grandbaby."
I do have children. I also have a mother. I also have other women in my life who have acted as mother's to me at different times. And I've thought a bit about what it really means to be a 'mother.'
There are mother archetypes we all draw on (I just Googled Jungian archetypes: mother), but I'll just define the most basic core of motherhood as I see it: I feel that the best of mother is 'nourishing life.' Not just literally feeding life, but creating and supporting an environment where life thrives.
You definitely don't have to have a biological children to do this. Expanding what 'mothering' means is good for all women. I see women I know 'mother' in many ways - we cultivate imagination, we encourage dreams. We nourish these qualities in ourselves and in others. We are mothers when we create businesses or mentor employees. We tend life when we garden, when we read to our nieces and nephews, when we get up at 5:30 a.m. and walk our beloved dogs.
I want to give a shout out to all the non-mother mothers. I also want to point out that every woman has a story beyond what you see on the outside. A woman without children does not mean that she hasn't literally or figuratively been a mother - I know women who have lost children, who have lost pregnancies, who have chosen to end pregnancies (no one I know has done this carelessly). I know women who had parents who were ill and took care of them from a very young age and therefore decided not to have children. I know women who just didn't want to have children. I know women who very much wanted children, but their lives took turns that didn't allow that to happen.
As a recipient of lots of love on Mother's Day, I appreciate being honored. I also honor all the women I know - their rich stories, their loving hearts, and their friendships that nourish all the variety of life.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
assertiveness for kids and adults
I haven't written for awhile and am feeling frustrated with myself about it. It's not that I haven't been inspired or touched. It's not that I haven't been sad or angry or joyful. It's not that I haven't been creative.
I've been living my life, which in the past month has included the death of a friend from high school. Reconnecting with an old friend from high school. Trying to reignite my poetry mind and writing poetry about housework (of all things), giving a presentation that I started out very apprehensive about (it went great!), and being a wife, mother, friend and daughter. A buyer of birthday presents and planner of birthday parties, a Target shopper and meal planner. A therapist. A media consumer. And probably 50 other things I'm forgetting.
But I know that if I don't write a blog, it's going to hang over me. So I'm going to start simple with what's right in front of me this week and here's the theme: learning to be assertive and teaching our kids assertiveness.
Two different people in my life in the past two days have told me stories about four different children they know who are being bullied and/or harassed at school. The kids range in age from first grade through high school. For all these kids (the ones being bullied) - the question I am being asked, I assume because I am a therapist, is, 'how do we empower them? ' 'how do we help them find their voice?'
I love these questions, and it makes me wonder - what does it even mean to 'have a voice.' I could probably wax on in a number of philosophical ways about this, but what I think might be more effective and simpler is to tell you what one of my best friends said. And the reason I listen to this friend is because she comes from a paternal line of straightforwardness that might make some people's toes curl, but which has enabled her to be one of the best managers I've ever heard of in an industry known for it's eccentric (to say the least) characters (restaurant).
So what does said friend say about finding your voice?
"It's nothing personal, but don't touch me again."
"I've got nothing against you, but that's my seat. Get out."
I could extrapolate this out to adult life to:
"It's nothing personal, but I can't talk now."
"No, I can't do that."
"That won't work for me."
"I'm leaving now. I'm willing to talk when you calm down."
"No."
So, I'm the first one to say, there are nuances. There are times when it's good to push our boundaries or to say, yes. I'm not talking about these times. I'm talking about the times when we know. When our kids know. When we are being taken advantage of physically, mentally or emotionally.
Finding your voice and being assertive is being okay with someone else's discomfort. Why are we all so worried if someone else is uncomfortable? I believe we mistake hurting someone's feelings with making them uncomfortable. We also want to avoid our discomfort at their discomfort. It's hard for us 'nice guys' to think - 'I caused that.'
But what if we stopped distracting ourselves by thinking that we are hurting their feelings? What if we stopped taking responsibility for other people's discomfort? They can deal with their discomfort just like we deal with our own discomfort. Maybe they won't be uncomfortable, but they'll just leave us alone knowing we stand tall, look them in the eye and say, unflinchingly, NO.
I've been living my life, which in the past month has included the death of a friend from high school. Reconnecting with an old friend from high school. Trying to reignite my poetry mind and writing poetry about housework (of all things), giving a presentation that I started out very apprehensive about (it went great!), and being a wife, mother, friend and daughter. A buyer of birthday presents and planner of birthday parties, a Target shopper and meal planner. A therapist. A media consumer. And probably 50 other things I'm forgetting.
But I know that if I don't write a blog, it's going to hang over me. So I'm going to start simple with what's right in front of me this week and here's the theme: learning to be assertive and teaching our kids assertiveness.
Two different people in my life in the past two days have told me stories about four different children they know who are being bullied and/or harassed at school. The kids range in age from first grade through high school. For all these kids (the ones being bullied) - the question I am being asked, I assume because I am a therapist, is, 'how do we empower them? ' 'how do we help them find their voice?'
I love these questions, and it makes me wonder - what does it even mean to 'have a voice.' I could probably wax on in a number of philosophical ways about this, but what I think might be more effective and simpler is to tell you what one of my best friends said. And the reason I listen to this friend is because she comes from a paternal line of straightforwardness that might make some people's toes curl, but which has enabled her to be one of the best managers I've ever heard of in an industry known for it's eccentric (to say the least) characters (restaurant).
So what does said friend say about finding your voice?
"It's nothing personal, but don't touch me again."
"I've got nothing against you, but that's my seat. Get out."
I could extrapolate this out to adult life to:
"It's nothing personal, but I can't talk now."
"No, I can't do that."
"That won't work for me."
"I'm leaving now. I'm willing to talk when you calm down."
"No."
So, I'm the first one to say, there are nuances. There are times when it's good to push our boundaries or to say, yes. I'm not talking about these times. I'm talking about the times when we know. When our kids know. When we are being taken advantage of physically, mentally or emotionally.
Finding your voice and being assertive is being okay with someone else's discomfort. Why are we all so worried if someone else is uncomfortable? I believe we mistake hurting someone's feelings with making them uncomfortable. We also want to avoid our discomfort at their discomfort. It's hard for us 'nice guys' to think - 'I caused that.'
But what if we stopped distracting ourselves by thinking that we are hurting their feelings? What if we stopped taking responsibility for other people's discomfort? They can deal with their discomfort just like we deal with our own discomfort. Maybe they won't be uncomfortable, but they'll just leave us alone knowing we stand tall, look them in the eye and say, unflinchingly, NO.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Uncomfortable in the pew
One of my best friends recently asked if I would go to her church with her on her birthday. I don't know if that seems weird to anyone, but it was truly an honor for me. This friend grew up fairly non-religious and now attends a United Methodist church, which is the denomination I myself grew up in.
Unlike some people, I had an awesome growing up in church experience overall. It was a place my parents were very involved in, it felt vibrant and energetic to me, I liked the music, I liked the big mural of Jesus with a lantern that hung in the foyer of the 'old chapel.' I liked the smells of the place, the ministers, my friends. I liked the songs and I liked what I learned about Jesus being a champion of the underdog, a friend of the reviled and outcast. What I absorbed was more about Jesus' life than his death - that the meaning of his life was about lifting up the oppressed and doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. The way I saw it, was that it didn't matter that much to me, anyway, about getting into heaven - being good was to make the world a better place.
So, I was interested to attend this relatively young, new, exciting congregation of United Methodists, especially considering that I've attended a Unitarian Universalist church for the past 11 years. If you're not familar with Unitarian Universalism, it's a liberal denomination that emphasizes "deeds not creeds" - many inter-faith couples/families attend as well as people who are scientists, seekers, and skeptics of many varieties.
When my friend and I pulled up to her church that Sunday in March, we were warmly greeted and welcomed. Coffee and treats were available right away and smiling, outgoing people were present as helpers of every variety. Everyone was enthusiastically ready to worship. And when we sat down to the service, I was feeling very uncomfortable. Very.
It was kind of like the feeling you have when you're a teenager and your mom is with you in a public place and you feel weird about her. Some of it had to do with smiling enthusiasm, which UUs are not known for, being that we are quite influenced by people from the Northeast. And introverts. Yet, the discomfort was also like a blanket that spread out over both the church I'm in now and the church I grew up in. I found myself with a lot of "us" and "them" thinking: "We don't do it this way." Or, "Why do they do it that way?" Or "They do this better than we do." Or, "That wouldn't fly with us."
And after I hung out in the pew with my discomfort, it faded. I probably really started enjoying myself during the sermon. I heard familiar ideas and stories I'd grown up with from the Bible. I heard philosophies that match my current spiritual experiences. For me, it became less about the 'us' and 'them' of the outer trappings - the rituals or music and smiling - and more about a kind of joy in realizing that there are communities all over the place that are helping people find meaning and hope in their lives and take action that makes the world a better place. I didn't really need it to be the exact same as what I hear or experience every Sunday. I didn't need it to be the same as what I grew up with. I felt a sense of a large community.
If we sit down and listen to whoever we see or feel is 'other', we have a lot to gain. So, I am challenging myself and you, if you'd like to take it on: try attending a religious service that is not familiar to you in the next couple of months. Even if you're not religious. Maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't. Then try another one. The point is not to be converted or even to believe something, the point is to notice what gifts you find in being uncomfortable. Yours may be different than mine. If so, I'd love to hear those stories from you.
Unlike some people, I had an awesome growing up in church experience overall. It was a place my parents were very involved in, it felt vibrant and energetic to me, I liked the music, I liked the big mural of Jesus with a lantern that hung in the foyer of the 'old chapel.' I liked the smells of the place, the ministers, my friends. I liked the songs and I liked what I learned about Jesus being a champion of the underdog, a friend of the reviled and outcast. What I absorbed was more about Jesus' life than his death - that the meaning of his life was about lifting up the oppressed and doing unto others as you would have them do unto you. The way I saw it, was that it didn't matter that much to me, anyway, about getting into heaven - being good was to make the world a better place.
So, I was interested to attend this relatively young, new, exciting congregation of United Methodists, especially considering that I've attended a Unitarian Universalist church for the past 11 years. If you're not familar with Unitarian Universalism, it's a liberal denomination that emphasizes "deeds not creeds" - many inter-faith couples/families attend as well as people who are scientists, seekers, and skeptics of many varieties.
When my friend and I pulled up to her church that Sunday in March, we were warmly greeted and welcomed. Coffee and treats were available right away and smiling, outgoing people were present as helpers of every variety. Everyone was enthusiastically ready to worship. And when we sat down to the service, I was feeling very uncomfortable. Very.
It was kind of like the feeling you have when you're a teenager and your mom is with you in a public place and you feel weird about her. Some of it had to do with smiling enthusiasm, which UUs are not known for, being that we are quite influenced by people from the Northeast. And introverts. Yet, the discomfort was also like a blanket that spread out over both the church I'm in now and the church I grew up in. I found myself with a lot of "us" and "them" thinking: "We don't do it this way." Or, "Why do they do it that way?" Or "They do this better than we do." Or, "That wouldn't fly with us."
And after I hung out in the pew with my discomfort, it faded. I probably really started enjoying myself during the sermon. I heard familiar ideas and stories I'd grown up with from the Bible. I heard philosophies that match my current spiritual experiences. For me, it became less about the 'us' and 'them' of the outer trappings - the rituals or music and smiling - and more about a kind of joy in realizing that there are communities all over the place that are helping people find meaning and hope in their lives and take action that makes the world a better place. I didn't really need it to be the exact same as what I hear or experience every Sunday. I didn't need it to be the same as what I grew up with. I felt a sense of a large community.
If we sit down and listen to whoever we see or feel is 'other', we have a lot to gain. So, I am challenging myself and you, if you'd like to take it on: try attending a religious service that is not familiar to you in the next couple of months. Even if you're not religious. Maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't. Then try another one. The point is not to be converted or even to believe something, the point is to notice what gifts you find in being uncomfortable. Yours may be different than mine. If so, I'd love to hear those stories from you.
Friday, February 27, 2015
pure joy, chosen joy, and Mrs. Piggle Wiggle
I'm getting a presentation together for a conference in April, and I am not talking with myself nicely about it in my head. I'm presenting with a friend and colleague who, "I'm sure is much more polished than I am." I'm second guessing myself..."does my topic even fit with what the audience is expecting?!" "Will I be able to make this cohesive by April?" The ridiculous part about it is that the presentation deals with play, humor, and connecting with joy after loss. And I'm taking a distinctly un-playful approach.
So I started thinking about people who convey a sense of play and joy...the first person who came to mind for me was Jimmy Fallon. Here's a link to his top 10 most viral clips: http://uproxx.com/tv/2014/02/10-viral-clips-late-night-jimmy-fallon/ . He is so awesome because he conveys a genuine sense that he loves what he is doing. He laughs with his guests, he laughs at himself, and he seems really spontaneous.
I know I'm going old school, but one of the other people who came to mind quickly was Mary Lou Retton. I think most people who read my blog are old enough to remember her - the Olympic gymnast from the 1984. If you go back and watch any clips of her competing, she is much more noticeably joyful compared to not only her competitors then, but to any gymnasts now. People loved her because she conveyed an enthusiasm and joy in her immense talent.
And what about the Kid President - pure joy!
I think playfulness and joy must indicate some level of confidence. And if not confidence in the very thing we are doing, confidence that even if we 'mess up', we'll figure out a way to get back on track. I also think that play and joy indicate generosity - 'I have a gift, talent, or idea and I want to share it with you!'
I know people who are joyful coaches of their kids' sports teams, playful nurses, exuberant artists, and delighted skiers.
Where and how do you spend your time in ways that bring you joy? When are you able to convey a sense of playfulness and spontaneity? Can you find a way to do that thing more?
And what about the things we have to do? Things that aren't intrinsically playful? Housework is the first thing I think of. Sometimes I feel like folding the laundry and the dishes will never end. And indeed, they won't. Unless I become super rich and can hire people to do that for me. So given that I spend probably an hour a day doing dishes and folding laundry or other housework, is it possible for me to choose a joyful approach? I have nothing to lose by trying.
For me, it's not only a conscious shift in mental attitude but it's bringing an element of play into the task - for me that means listening to a podcast that interests me or music that makes me happy. This is the grown up version of my own Mrs. Piggle Wiggle. If you haven't read these kids' books from the 1950s, you should. Mrs. Piggle Wiggle lives in an upside down house, smells like cookies and was once married to a pirate and she plays with all the neighborhood kids and uses games, make believe and mischief to 'cure' them of all their childish ills like not taking a bath or not cleaning their rooms.
Really this post is a reminder to myself and maybe a nudge for you at the right time...if we find ourselves procrastinating or approaching a task with less than enthusiasm, take a few minute to suss out your obstacles. For me and my presentation, it's this great unknown - where to start? It's a little insecurity - will I be as good as I want to be? But now that I'm aware of the obstacles, I also have the power to make a shift. I have the choice not to take this (or any other task), quite so seriously. That's why I need to tap into my inner Jimmy Fallon and Mrs. Piggle Wiggle and put CCR on the ipod. If you take this approach too, I recommend a little Bad Moon Rising.
So I started thinking about people who convey a sense of play and joy...the first person who came to mind for me was Jimmy Fallon. Here's a link to his top 10 most viral clips: http://uproxx.com/tv/2014/02/10-viral-clips-late-night-jimmy-fallon/ . He is so awesome because he conveys a genuine sense that he loves what he is doing. He laughs with his guests, he laughs at himself, and he seems really spontaneous.
I know I'm going old school, but one of the other people who came to mind quickly was Mary Lou Retton. I think most people who read my blog are old enough to remember her - the Olympic gymnast from the 1984. If you go back and watch any clips of her competing, she is much more noticeably joyful compared to not only her competitors then, but to any gymnasts now. People loved her because she conveyed an enthusiasm and joy in her immense talent.
And what about the Kid President - pure joy!
I think playfulness and joy must indicate some level of confidence. And if not confidence in the very thing we are doing, confidence that even if we 'mess up', we'll figure out a way to get back on track. I also think that play and joy indicate generosity - 'I have a gift, talent, or idea and I want to share it with you!'
I know people who are joyful coaches of their kids' sports teams, playful nurses, exuberant artists, and delighted skiers.
Where and how do you spend your time in ways that bring you joy? When are you able to convey a sense of playfulness and spontaneity? Can you find a way to do that thing more?
And what about the things we have to do? Things that aren't intrinsically playful? Housework is the first thing I think of. Sometimes I feel like folding the laundry and the dishes will never end. And indeed, they won't. Unless I become super rich and can hire people to do that for me. So given that I spend probably an hour a day doing dishes and folding laundry or other housework, is it possible for me to choose a joyful approach? I have nothing to lose by trying.
For me, it's not only a conscious shift in mental attitude but it's bringing an element of play into the task - for me that means listening to a podcast that interests me or music that makes me happy. This is the grown up version of my own Mrs. Piggle Wiggle. If you haven't read these kids' books from the 1950s, you should. Mrs. Piggle Wiggle lives in an upside down house, smells like cookies and was once married to a pirate and she plays with all the neighborhood kids and uses games, make believe and mischief to 'cure' them of all their childish ills like not taking a bath or not cleaning their rooms.
Really this post is a reminder to myself and maybe a nudge for you at the right time...if we find ourselves procrastinating or approaching a task with less than enthusiasm, take a few minute to suss out your obstacles. For me and my presentation, it's this great unknown - where to start? It's a little insecurity - will I be as good as I want to be? But now that I'm aware of the obstacles, I also have the power to make a shift. I have the choice not to take this (or any other task), quite so seriously. That's why I need to tap into my inner Jimmy Fallon and Mrs. Piggle Wiggle and put CCR on the ipod. If you take this approach too, I recommend a little Bad Moon Rising.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
A Not So Simple Pep Talk
As I was making chocolate chip pancakes for my daughter Sunday morning (combining three out of 6 items this child eats - eggs, milk and chocolate), and listening to Weekend Edition on NPR, I heard a giggly kid's voice on the radio. The Kid President was being interviewed. As his brother points out - it's a self-appointed position. Have you ever heard of this guy? He's awesome! Here's a link to his YouTube video - 20 Things We Should Say More Often: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m5yCOSHeYn4
What I love about this kid is how he clear he is about what people can and should do. He says, “This is life people… you got air coming through your nose… you got a heart beat… it’s time to do something” His message is about hopes and dreams and making life more awesome.
Some days - like random Tuesdays or after the Seahawks lose the Super Bowl, or in the middle of breast cancer treatment or when we visit mom and we notice that she's really getting forgetful, or when our child has a terrible temper tantrum before school - we need a pep talk. The Kid President is great at pep talks. I love the idea of a pep talk and there are so many people out there who are inspiring and innovative and are offering through YouTube or books or their websites or blogs, words of encouragement and wisdom that help us put one foot in front of the other on a hard day or they might help us do something courageous and bold on a day we are feeling good.
Yet, I know there are days when lots of us feel un-inspirable (I made that word up). We feel cynical. We roll our eyes at pep talks. A hospice patient I once worked with was threatening suicide. He was in his nineties and bedbound, but I had to assess him for suicidality. I climbed right up in bed with him and shouted in his ear (he was hard of hearing), "Are you planning to kill yourself?!?"
This is what he said to me, "Are you one of those goddamned do-gooders?!?"
Here's what Parker Palmer says that I really like:
For me, the ability to hold life paradoxically became a life-saver. Among other things, it helped me integrate three devastating experiences of clinical depression, which were as dark for me as it must have been for Jonas inside the belly of that whale. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”, was the question that came time and again as my quest for light plunged me into darkness...understanding of paradox came to my rescue. Eventually I was able to see that the closer I move to the source of light, the deeper my shadow becomes. To be whole I have to be able to say I am both shadow and light.
From my own life experience and from working with people who are grieving the loss of someone they love - a simple pep talk often feels empty...when they hear things like, "he's gone to a better place" or "at least he's not suffering anymore", this feels empty and flat. Yet, at the same time, grievers long for comfort. Maybe that's how we all are - part of us wants to be comforted and part of us wants to wallow in our bitterness. It truly is a paradox.
Maybe life is simpler when you're a kid, but maybe not. The Kid President, for example, has osteogenesis imperfecta - his bones break easily and he's had more than 70 breaks in his life. So, while his message is simple (you can make life awesome!), he knows about this other side that Parker Palmer talks about...that we all have light and shadow.
To paraphrase, Brene Brown, hope is a function of adversity. We can't have hope unless and until we face hard times. Hope is a learned cognitive response - it is not an emotion. We can learn real hope that is beyond a simplistic platitude, but it takes great patience. Patience to sit through the hard times and our own eye rolling. Patience to earn our own hope: there are hard times but we are strong enough and the good times do come again.
What I love about this kid is how he clear he is about what people can and should do. He says, “This is life people… you got air coming through your nose… you got a heart beat… it’s time to do something” His message is about hopes and dreams and making life more awesome.
Some days - like random Tuesdays or after the Seahawks lose the Super Bowl, or in the middle of breast cancer treatment or when we visit mom and we notice that she's really getting forgetful, or when our child has a terrible temper tantrum before school - we need a pep talk. The Kid President is great at pep talks. I love the idea of a pep talk and there are so many people out there who are inspiring and innovative and are offering through YouTube or books or their websites or blogs, words of encouragement and wisdom that help us put one foot in front of the other on a hard day or they might help us do something courageous and bold on a day we are feeling good.
Yet, I know there are days when lots of us feel un-inspirable (I made that word up). We feel cynical. We roll our eyes at pep talks. A hospice patient I once worked with was threatening suicide. He was in his nineties and bedbound, but I had to assess him for suicidality. I climbed right up in bed with him and shouted in his ear (he was hard of hearing), "Are you planning to kill yourself?!?"
This is what he said to me, "Are you one of those goddamned do-gooders?!?"
Here's what Parker Palmer says that I really like:
For me, the ability to hold life paradoxically became a life-saver. Among other things, it helped me integrate three devastating experiences of clinical depression, which were as dark for me as it must have been for Jonas inside the belly of that whale. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”, was the question that came time and again as my quest for light plunged me into darkness...understanding of paradox came to my rescue. Eventually I was able to see that the closer I move to the source of light, the deeper my shadow becomes. To be whole I have to be able to say I am both shadow and light.
From my own life experience and from working with people who are grieving the loss of someone they love - a simple pep talk often feels empty...when they hear things like, "he's gone to a better place" or "at least he's not suffering anymore", this feels empty and flat. Yet, at the same time, grievers long for comfort. Maybe that's how we all are - part of us wants to be comforted and part of us wants to wallow in our bitterness. It truly is a paradox.
Maybe life is simpler when you're a kid, but maybe not. The Kid President, for example, has osteogenesis imperfecta - his bones break easily and he's had more than 70 breaks in his life. So, while his message is simple (you can make life awesome!), he knows about this other side that Parker Palmer talks about...that we all have light and shadow.
To paraphrase, Brene Brown, hope is a function of adversity. We can't have hope unless and until we face hard times. Hope is a learned cognitive response - it is not an emotion. We can learn real hope that is beyond a simplistic platitude, but it takes great patience. Patience to sit through the hard times and our own eye rolling. Patience to earn our own hope: there are hard times but we are strong enough and the good times do come again.
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
#day7 - what it was like to take the challenge
So this is my last day of the blogging challenge. Here's what I learned: Seth Godin is the devil. No, I'm just kidding - I still love Seth Godin. His blog and thoughts about business, creativity, and being relevant as a 'product' in the market are challenging. Reading him is like having a boss that really demands that you be your best and not just get by.
I think I took this challenge, because, like many writers, I often tell myself, "you should write more." And then, I don't do it. For me, this stems from my desire to write something that means something to somebody else besides me. I write because I like a good story. I write because I want to try to tell a good story - whether it's with a poem or with the blog or with my graphic novel (which means comic book, for those who have asked me whether I'm writing a sexually graphic novel. I am not. But I think it's fun that people might even think this about me!) If it's 'good' writing, that means something to me. If I am able to take a metaphor or current event or idea and tie it all these seemingly disparate pieces together - like Broadcast News and Imagine Dragons - that feels fun to me.
It's just so hard to get started and if it's not 'good' or as good as I want it to me, I am frustrated.
So this is my first lesson from the #day1 challenge: Stop trying to be so good and just write.
The second thing I learned is: Know why I'm writing. Am I writing for stats? Am I writing to get a book deal? Am I writing for 'likes on facebook?' Sure. But, also, no.
At the very core, I am writing because despite looking like a pretty regular midwest working mom, I've had a few extraordinary experiences. And because of these experiences, I have something that I think is worthwhile to share - whether that's with one person or one million.
Just today, my dear friend sent me this link: http://markmanson.net/not-giving-a-fuck
This is a hilarious piece of writing with a lot of truth in it. This piece challenged me too - to be a writer or artist, in some way, you have to 'not give a fuck.' What if my ideas are weird? What if no one likes them? I put myself out on a limb...maybe it doesn't seem that scary because I'm not saying anything that crazy, but what is scary to me is that I believe in it SO much.
I write this blog in a much gentler voice than Mark Manson has - and the reason I do this, is not because I am a goody-goody or that I disagree with him. The reason I write this gently but also feel so passionately, is because I've seen a gorgeous world, but a world full of hurts and pain. In my experience, the world of healing is a world where we start by being kinder to ourselves - gentler with ourselves. Then, gentler, less judgmental, more big-hearted with those in our families and communities.
There's a place for challenge and there's a place for gentle and there's a place for gently challenging. That's why I learned this week that I might be blogging more often, but I'm not going to beat myself up if I don't.
Thank you for reading.
I think I took this challenge, because, like many writers, I often tell myself, "you should write more." And then, I don't do it. For me, this stems from my desire to write something that means something to somebody else besides me. I write because I like a good story. I write because I want to try to tell a good story - whether it's with a poem or with the blog or with my graphic novel (which means comic book, for those who have asked me whether I'm writing a sexually graphic novel. I am not. But I think it's fun that people might even think this about me!) If it's 'good' writing, that means something to me. If I am able to take a metaphor or current event or idea and tie it all these seemingly disparate pieces together - like Broadcast News and Imagine Dragons - that feels fun to me.
It's just so hard to get started and if it's not 'good' or as good as I want it to me, I am frustrated.
So this is my first lesson from the #day1 challenge: Stop trying to be so good and just write.
The second thing I learned is: Know why I'm writing. Am I writing for stats? Am I writing to get a book deal? Am I writing for 'likes on facebook?' Sure. But, also, no.
At the very core, I am writing because despite looking like a pretty regular midwest working mom, I've had a few extraordinary experiences. And because of these experiences, I have something that I think is worthwhile to share - whether that's with one person or one million.
Just today, my dear friend sent me this link: http://markmanson.net/not-giving-a-fuck
This is a hilarious piece of writing with a lot of truth in it. This piece challenged me too - to be a writer or artist, in some way, you have to 'not give a fuck.' What if my ideas are weird? What if no one likes them? I put myself out on a limb...maybe it doesn't seem that scary because I'm not saying anything that crazy, but what is scary to me is that I believe in it SO much.
I write this blog in a much gentler voice than Mark Manson has - and the reason I do this, is not because I am a goody-goody or that I disagree with him. The reason I write this gently but also feel so passionately, is because I've seen a gorgeous world, but a world full of hurts and pain. In my experience, the world of healing is a world where we start by being kinder to ourselves - gentler with ourselves. Then, gentler, less judgmental, more big-hearted with those in our families and communities.
There's a place for challenge and there's a place for gentle and there's a place for gently challenging. That's why I learned this week that I might be blogging more often, but I'm not going to beat myself up if I don't.
Thank you for reading.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
#day6 - where my demons hide
Having an 11 year old son, my life is full of an extraordinary number of poop, penis and passing gas 'jokes', if you can call them that. Almost anything in the world can be made into such a joke (note: watch Space Balls - get it, balls). So there's a fairly popular song by Imagine Dragons called "Demons" and because we often listen to pop music in the car and because my son often chooses to let loose with passing gas in the car, we have begun to associate the lyrics, "that's where my demons hide" with my son passing gas. It's a family song. We are wholesome like that.
Probably because this song, tune and lyrics are so catchy, I've found myself thinking what does this really mean? I can't believe it was the intent of the songwriters for the general public to abuse it's meaning in such a way as we do.
So today's #day6 entry is about what I consider one of my biggest demons - one thing I try to exorcise, but which seems to find new permutations in my life.
Have you ever seen the movie Broadcast News? This is a great movie and Joan Cusack has a hilarious scene where she's trying to get news copy to the news anchor within minutes of going live. The scene is called pushing. Here's a link: https://search.yahoo.com/search?fr=mcafee&type=B211US747D20140716&p=broadcast+news+scene+pushing
This is how I feel trying to get out the door in the morning. And there are occasional days where I feel this way much of the day (particularly around Christmas). My demon is overestimating my ability accomplish tasks, and underestimating the time I will have to relax when said tasks are done.
I see this in my daughter who does all her homework for the week on Monday. I was the exact same way - I liked to get my work done so I could play. The problem in adult life is that the work is never done. While you were getting some tasks done, more to do's were piling up. I have all the 'accomplishment' but none of the relaxation and play that I had up until age 22.
So here is something I'm trying. When I have my get out the door 'to do' list - whatever I think I can or should get done, I am mentally taking one thing off the list. Sometimes, it's as banal as, I'm not going to scoop the cat poop. When I am particularly "pushing" a la Broadcast News, I have to deliberately talk to myself and reassure myself : Katy, if the cat poop doesn't get scooped today, everything will be okay. Your house will not be condemned. There will not be a terrible, permeating smell of cat pee."
I know in lots of ways, I'm being silly about this, but I also want to say that we all have 'demons' - usually more than one. I think it fits in the category if it's something you consistently want to change and you know is inhibiting your quality of life, but you 'keep doing it.'
There's a story/myth that I think is Native American in origin about many animals trying to reach the Great Spirit on the Mountain. Unfortunately, a gigantic demon stood in the path and the animals were afraid to pass. But a small fawn approached the demon and said, "Please, I'd like to go see the Great Spirit." The demon instantly shrunk to a very small size and the fawn and all the other animals could pass.
Gentleness, often is the best remedy for our demons.
p.s. Mom, I changed my profile pic to a pic from Broadcast News. I'll change it back soon, I promise!
Probably because this song, tune and lyrics are so catchy, I've found myself thinking what does this really mean? I can't believe it was the intent of the songwriters for the general public to abuse it's meaning in such a way as we do.
So today's #day6 entry is about what I consider one of my biggest demons - one thing I try to exorcise, but which seems to find new permutations in my life.
Have you ever seen the movie Broadcast News? This is a great movie and Joan Cusack has a hilarious scene where she's trying to get news copy to the news anchor within minutes of going live. The scene is called pushing. Here's a link: https://search.yahoo.com/search?fr=mcafee&type=B211US747D20140716&p=broadcast+news+scene+pushing
This is how I feel trying to get out the door in the morning. And there are occasional days where I feel this way much of the day (particularly around Christmas). My demon is overestimating my ability accomplish tasks, and underestimating the time I will have to relax when said tasks are done.
I see this in my daughter who does all her homework for the week on Monday. I was the exact same way - I liked to get my work done so I could play. The problem in adult life is that the work is never done. While you were getting some tasks done, more to do's were piling up. I have all the 'accomplishment' but none of the relaxation and play that I had up until age 22.
So here is something I'm trying. When I have my get out the door 'to do' list - whatever I think I can or should get done, I am mentally taking one thing off the list. Sometimes, it's as banal as, I'm not going to scoop the cat poop. When I am particularly "pushing" a la Broadcast News, I have to deliberately talk to myself and reassure myself : Katy, if the cat poop doesn't get scooped today, everything will be okay. Your house will not be condemned. There will not be a terrible, permeating smell of cat pee."
I know in lots of ways, I'm being silly about this, but I also want to say that we all have 'demons' - usually more than one. I think it fits in the category if it's something you consistently want to change and you know is inhibiting your quality of life, but you 'keep doing it.'
There's a story/myth that I think is Native American in origin about many animals trying to reach the Great Spirit on the Mountain. Unfortunately, a gigantic demon stood in the path and the animals were afraid to pass. But a small fawn approached the demon and said, "Please, I'd like to go see the Great Spirit." The demon instantly shrunk to a very small size and the fawn and all the other animals could pass.
Gentleness, often is the best remedy for our demons.
p.s. Mom, I changed my profile pic to a pic from Broadcast News. I'll change it back soon, I promise!
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