I forget what post exactly started me reading Chatting at the Sky. I believe my friend Kelly first suggested it to me. I knew right away it was a blog I wanted in my reader. I knew it would encourage me to pursue my writing. And any other "art" I would decide to try my hand at. That is how I landed here. Taking on this challenge of writing every day for a month. Taking on the challenge of finding 31 things to say on the same basic topic. Taking on the challenge to talk about hope.
Today was hard. Late night combined with fragile morning combined with "Hormones" combined with a dreary, gloomy day equaled hard. A few tears shed. A few laughs shared. Some prayers spoken. Today was the first day I truly blanked on what to write. I had thought of something at some point this afternoon, but as I sat down to write I could not for the life of me remember. I have one thought I've been ruminating on, but I think it should be my last post in the series, so I'm holding on to it. I thought about looking at the word Hope in songs or movies. I thought for a minute I had my idea when I was watching Once Upon a Time on ABC tonite and the main character says something about Hope being the most important thing to still have. But I can't remember exactly what she said, I don't think the clip will be posted online yet, and it just plain feels cliche. Not to mention I'm not even sure I can stretch it out into a whole post.
My art, however, I can always stretch out into a full post. I mentioned to a student last week that I had thought about asking him to edit my book. He said something about his friend also writing books. She asked how many I had written, I said 2 1/2. She giggled and said she'd written 10-12. I was discouraged for a few minutes as I considered her youth, but then she asked how long my novels were. "My first one was 55,725 words." I truly said it without arrogance or attitude. She immediately responded "You totally have me beat." Apparently her novels are comparatively quite short.
When my mom heard how long my book was she said "Seriously? Where do you even come up with that much to write about? I can barely write a Thank You card." Then she read the whole novel. And, had good things to say about it. Another good friend, and aspiring writer, also read it and agreed with her. They both had suggestions and gave me red inked copies back, but overall they liked my story. Nearly everyone I tell is impressed that I've written a 50,000 word novel. They're doubly impressed when I say I've done it twice. (Pun fully intended)
My writing gives me another world to live in for awhile. Another place to be. Somewhere else to park my mind for awhile. I'm an over-thinker. I way over think nearly everything in life. I have to have a TV on to fall asleep because otherwise my brain does not stop for over an hour. Watching movies I love or TV shows I enjoy and reading are all outlets to shut down my over-thinker for awhile and relax. And writing. Creating an entire situation for someone to live in and work through releases me from trying to figure out my own messes. I think I could survive as long as I had one of those options available. But if you took away all the options I think I'd end up committed to a psych ward somewhere.
As hard as this has been to post every day. As hard as it has been to think of something new to say about Hope every day. It has refreshed my hope. It has reminded me that the more I look for hope, the more I will find hope. It has renewed my hope-er, that part of my heart and mind that takes care of my hope and keeps it alive. And I am very excited for NaNoWriMo to start tomorrow night. I'm going to open this novel with an incredibly cliched phrase just so I can write it at midnight to say I started right away and then go to bed. Tonite, my hope is Harry Potter. Tomorrow my hope will be Lydia. Who knows what next month will bring!
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
~day 29~ Innocence
A friend called a few weeks ago and asked me for a favor. She has another friend that likes to come and take her daughter for a girls night. Her daughter is 2 1/2. She has a son who is 4 1/2. She called to see if I would come and take him out for awhile so he isn't left behind while his sister goes off with a friend. Since her kids adore me and her son actually brought that up last time I had been there, I readily agreed. I proceeded to forget entirely what day that might occur on. She called today a little after 1. I was extremely glad that I had not made other plans!
I picked him up and went to McDonald's. This kid is adorable. He is all boy and he has his own will that shows up strong from time to time, but he is incredibly sweet and loving. I got to see the sweet and loving part in full force today. He wanted a specific toy at McDs and I said "We can ask for it, but they might not have it, so you'll have to take whichever one they give you." He semi nodded and I fully expected an incident when he opened his happy meal. He did not get the toy he wanted and he did not freak out in any way shape or form.
I asked him on the way over what he wanted to eat and he said cheeseburger. I asked if he was going to eat first and then play or if he wanted to play and eat. At first he said play and eat, but then I suggested eating first because the cheeseburger would get cold. If he had wanted nuggets or something I would have happily let him eat and play at the same time, because i'm that indulgent friend that has no problem spoiling your kids absolutely rotten before sending them back. However, when I mentioned the cold cheeseburger possibility he actually agreed. And then when we got our food and sat down, he happily sat there and with reasonable slowness ate his whole cheeseburger. And made silly faces etc at the little boy at the next table. He never asked if he could go play he never whined or complained, nothing.
He made friends with a little girl who was there, the only other kid to play with really, and they played hide-n-seek for a bit. He played along very nicely! I noted a few times during the night how polite he was and how obedient he was and I praised him highly for it. I thought a couple of times what a sweet and well-behaved boy my friend was raising. And I texted that to her because I knew he had not been so well-behaved earlier in the day.
He hasn't experienced loss yet. He hasn't been terribly disillusioned by the unfairness of this world yet. He hasn't endured medical treatments for something he couldn't possibly understand, nor has he had to watch anyone in his life undergo that. There is a sweetness to that kind of innocence. Almost like it carries a fragrance or a sound. We lose that as we grow up and experience those things. And some of it we should lose because in the world we live in, maintaining that degree of innocence is quite dangerous. But I think we could all be a lot more hopeful if we could simply enjoy a few rounds of hide-n-seek with a new friend. If we could enjoy an afternoon away from our normal routine with a dear one. If we could walk in whatever weather we have and be glad that we are properly clothed and mobile under our own power and breathing clean air in a safe country. If we could look at the blue sky and marvel at the shade. If we could look at the many cloud types and formations and tints and be amazed. If we could listen to a song and be reminded that we are not alone in this world. I've heard it said "Hope Springs Eternal." I think this is most true for the young and innocence. May you spend your Sunday recapturing the innocence and hope of youth.
I picked him up and went to McDonald's. This kid is adorable. He is all boy and he has his own will that shows up strong from time to time, but he is incredibly sweet and loving. I got to see the sweet and loving part in full force today. He wanted a specific toy at McDs and I said "We can ask for it, but they might not have it, so you'll have to take whichever one they give you." He semi nodded and I fully expected an incident when he opened his happy meal. He did not get the toy he wanted and he did not freak out in any way shape or form.
I asked him on the way over what he wanted to eat and he said cheeseburger. I asked if he was going to eat first and then play or if he wanted to play and eat. At first he said play and eat, but then I suggested eating first because the cheeseburger would get cold. If he had wanted nuggets or something I would have happily let him eat and play at the same time, because i'm that indulgent friend that has no problem spoiling your kids absolutely rotten before sending them back. However, when I mentioned the cold cheeseburger possibility he actually agreed. And then when we got our food and sat down, he happily sat there and with reasonable slowness ate his whole cheeseburger. And made silly faces etc at the little boy at the next table. He never asked if he could go play he never whined or complained, nothing.
He made friends with a little girl who was there, the only other kid to play with really, and they played hide-n-seek for a bit. He played along very nicely! I noted a few times during the night how polite he was and how obedient he was and I praised him highly for it. I thought a couple of times what a sweet and well-behaved boy my friend was raising. And I texted that to her because I knew he had not been so well-behaved earlier in the day.
He hasn't experienced loss yet. He hasn't been terribly disillusioned by the unfairness of this world yet. He hasn't endured medical treatments for something he couldn't possibly understand, nor has he had to watch anyone in his life undergo that. There is a sweetness to that kind of innocence. Almost like it carries a fragrance or a sound. We lose that as we grow up and experience those things. And some of it we should lose because in the world we live in, maintaining that degree of innocence is quite dangerous. But I think we could all be a lot more hopeful if we could simply enjoy a few rounds of hide-n-seek with a new friend. If we could enjoy an afternoon away from our normal routine with a dear one. If we could walk in whatever weather we have and be glad that we are properly clothed and mobile under our own power and breathing clean air in a safe country. If we could look at the blue sky and marvel at the shade. If we could look at the many cloud types and formations and tints and be amazed. If we could listen to a song and be reminded that we are not alone in this world. I've heard it said "Hope Springs Eternal." I think this is most true for the young and innocence. May you spend your Sunday recapturing the innocence and hope of youth.
Friday, October 28, 2011
~day 28~ End Point
This month of posting has stretched me. A Lot. Which I've said previously, so I won't harp on it. After this post goes up I will have 3 more posts and be able to proudly say I blogged every single day for an entire month about Hope. That sounds kind of impressive. The novelist in me doesn't think it sounds as impressive as "I completed a 55,725 word novel in 30 days, less than 30 actually." But, opinions, beholders etc.
Tonite, hope takes the form of knowing there is an end in sight. I won't be letting anyone down if I don't post anything next Tuesday night. I won't be adding yet another thing to my lengthy list of things I never bothered to finish (like my last novel currently is). I can see the end. I can see the rewards. I've gotten encouragements. I know this will not last forever. Yes, I realize this may sound quite dramatic and woe-is-me. Yes, that sentiment would be an exaggeration for this actual situation.
But in real life, there are a lot of situations in which we lose our hope because we don't see the end. We don't see things being any different in a month or 3 months or a year. It is hard to keep hoping for our heart's desire when we can't see any form of fulfillment in our near future. Especially when we see those around us getting their heart's desires and sometimes their own version of exactly the thing you desire. It is hard to watch yet another friend, younger than you, get married and you have had exactly 1 date* in 7+ years. It is hard to go home to an apartment, no matter how lovely, after leaving a friend's beautiful home. It is hard to listen to someone talk about how easy it was for them to lose baby weight when you can't seem to pry off even a few ounces of cupcake weight.
Much more importantly, it is hard to have hope when a loved one battles for their very life. Intentionally putting poison in their body that makes them violently ill in the hopes that the poison will only kill the thing inside of them. It is hard to have hope when you truly have not met any decent, single, available guys within a reasonable age range in years. It is hard to have hope when you carry something around inside of you that can be managed but not cured. When there is no cure on the horizon. When those around you don't even know that you have this thing because it is managed so well your symptoms are nearly imperceptible. It's hard to live that for very long and keep hope.
I think I can count another blessing in the timing of my Dad's death. I have struggled to keep hope alive probably for as long as I've struggled against depression. I will count it a blessing that I, we, didn't have to wait for test results to see if it was working. We didn't have to try another round of this cocktail or that combination and start waiting for test results again. I tried to have hope in the few weeks that we had. I'm not sure I was all that successful. I can hope that the next wedding will be easier. I can hope that next Father's Day will sting less. But I don't know how long I could have continued to hope if we would have had to fight for very long. I don't know how long I could hope if I got a diagnosis of something chronic and/or incurable.
But Tonite? Tonite I can have hope because I only have 3 more posts and then begins my noveling adventure. I think I'm going to name her Constance. Constance Marie or possibly Constance Naomi. We'll see what she has to say next week.
Tonite, hope takes the form of knowing there is an end in sight. I won't be letting anyone down if I don't post anything next Tuesday night. I won't be adding yet another thing to my lengthy list of things I never bothered to finish (like my last novel currently is). I can see the end. I can see the rewards. I've gotten encouragements. I know this will not last forever. Yes, I realize this may sound quite dramatic and woe-is-me. Yes, that sentiment would be an exaggeration for this actual situation.
But in real life, there are a lot of situations in which we lose our hope because we don't see the end. We don't see things being any different in a month or 3 months or a year. It is hard to keep hoping for our heart's desire when we can't see any form of fulfillment in our near future. Especially when we see those around us getting their heart's desires and sometimes their own version of exactly the thing you desire. It is hard to watch yet another friend, younger than you, get married and you have had exactly 1 date* in 7+ years. It is hard to go home to an apartment, no matter how lovely, after leaving a friend's beautiful home. It is hard to listen to someone talk about how easy it was for them to lose baby weight when you can't seem to pry off even a few ounces of cupcake weight.
Much more importantly, it is hard to have hope when a loved one battles for their very life. Intentionally putting poison in their body that makes them violently ill in the hopes that the poison will only kill the thing inside of them. It is hard to have hope when you truly have not met any decent, single, available guys within a reasonable age range in years. It is hard to have hope when you carry something around inside of you that can be managed but not cured. When there is no cure on the horizon. When those around you don't even know that you have this thing because it is managed so well your symptoms are nearly imperceptible. It's hard to live that for very long and keep hope.
I think I can count another blessing in the timing of my Dad's death. I have struggled to keep hope alive probably for as long as I've struggled against depression. I will count it a blessing that I, we, didn't have to wait for test results to see if it was working. We didn't have to try another round of this cocktail or that combination and start waiting for test results again. I tried to have hope in the few weeks that we had. I'm not sure I was all that successful. I can hope that the next wedding will be easier. I can hope that next Father's Day will sting less. But I don't know how long I could have continued to hope if we would have had to fight for very long. I don't know how long I could hope if I got a diagnosis of something chronic and/or incurable.
But Tonite? Tonite I can have hope because I only have 3 more posts and then begins my noveling adventure. I think I'm going to name her Constance. Constance Marie or possibly Constance Naomi. We'll see what she has to say next week.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
~day 27~ One Thing
I've heard all sorts of things about how to change a habit. I've heard it takes 12 days, 30 days, 45 days, 60 days and maybe even 90 days to change a habit. I've heard willpower is the way to go (which is total bunk, by the way). I've heard you have to create a distraction from the habit. I've heard you should come up with a Bible Verse to "fight" the temptation when it comes. I've heard you have to replace the bad habit with a good habit.
And I've heard you should only change one habit at a time. That is part of why New Year's Resolutions rarely work. We fill our heads with these grandiose ideas of how this year will be different. Of how our life will be Amazing and Perfect if we can just defeat these few mountains in our lives. But that is all bunk too! First and foremost, let me point out that even if we defeat these "few" mountains life will not be Perfect. It won't be Amazing for very long. But, more pertinent to this post, secondly, we can't possibly make that many changes all at once successfully. I've gone so far as to stop calling them resolutions and set goals instead. I've even taken those goals and broken them down into chunks and pieces and steps and planned it out. I've split them across the months of the year so that I'm not trying to fight 5 battles all at once. And you know what?
I am still significantly overweight.
I still swear too much.
I still haven't memorized more than a half dozen Bible Verses in a single year. And ask me how many of those I still remember!
I still am not independently wealthy.
I still am not comfortably wealthy.
I still bounce checks at least once or twice a year.
I still have no savings to speak of.
I still have not published a book, nor researched getting published, nor edited the books I have managed to finish.
I keep those lists of goals. So I can refer back to them. You know, Someday. I've looked at them in my moves and rearrangements etc. There is a common theme through them all. Change. I want my life to look different. I want my home to look different. I want my body to look different. I want my bank account to look different. I want my character to look different.
Today I changed one thing. In order to accommodate that one thing and make it worth changing I had to change 3-4 other things. I thought about texting it to facebook because I was quite proud of my one change. But I realized I wanted to store it up for myself for that moment. As I pondered what I could possibly still have to write about Hope I decided to share this one thing.
I decided to walk on my lunch hour instead of going home and screwing around on facebook for 45 minutes. In order to do that I had to remember to take walking shoes and clean socks. I had to put them in a bag and hang it on my door handle or I would for sure and for certain forget them. Since I wasn't coming home I also had to figure out lunch. So I had to mix a slim fast shake (I do the powder ones you mix yourself, the pre-canned ones taste icky) and take it with. I also decided that if I was going to try to do this 'healthy' thing that maybe I shouldn't be drinking 2 cokes a day, every single day and eating 2-5 mini crunch bars a day. I can only drink coffee at work until it gets ice cold. I bought a juice smoothie drink thing to take with and open when the coffee got cold, instead of opening a Coke. Plus, I had to put all that stuff into a bag and remember the bag when I left for work. Then .... are you ready for this? I actually USED it all AND went for a walk on my lunch! And, I enjoyed it! My walk was lovely. I was not starving most of the day, like I usually am if I try to do the slim-fast thing. The smoothie was a PERFECT replacement for Coke #1. And, I just plain felt good about making a good choice.
I've been seeing a counselor for awhile now. We talked last week about my terrible sleep habits. One of the things she has repeated to me in various situations regarding a variety of issues and always in a different way, is to not be so absolute with myself. I have been a very All or Nothing person for a very long time. If I'm not going to go to bed "early" every night like a Responsible Adult does, then why bother ever doing it? If I'm not going to work out "regularly" then what good could it possibly do me? If I can't keep up with my checkbook every day or every week like a Good Steward, then why bother trying at all? But as she so accurately pointed out, you know your schedule, you know your life. You know that Monday nights and Thursday nights are late for you. So cut yourself some slack. Go to bed early when you are home early and you can. Basically, stop beating yourself senseless over the fact that two nights a week you choose something else rather than sleep. She's told me this 'stop beating yourself up' thing repeatedly. You'd think I'd be able to start seeing it on my own. Nope!
So, this week, I went to bed early Tuesday night and tried to go to bed early last night. Tuesday I ended up not sleeping quite as early as I'd hoped, but still way earlier than I had been previously. Last night, same thing, but that time I couldn't fall asleep once I was in bed, so I didn't actually get a great night's sleep, but I tried. Tonite, I am home early from campus so I might just get to bed at a decent time! We'll see.
Today there is hope in the one choice. Today I chose to walk at lunch. I am going to be happy about that. Even if I don't do it again for MONTHS! I did it today. And that is worth celebrating. I've done it once, I know it is possible, I can do it again another day. Possibly tomorrow. Who knows!
And I've heard you should only change one habit at a time. That is part of why New Year's Resolutions rarely work. We fill our heads with these grandiose ideas of how this year will be different. Of how our life will be Amazing and Perfect if we can just defeat these few mountains in our lives. But that is all bunk too! First and foremost, let me point out that even if we defeat these "few" mountains life will not be Perfect. It won't be Amazing for very long. But, more pertinent to this post, secondly, we can't possibly make that many changes all at once successfully. I've gone so far as to stop calling them resolutions and set goals instead. I've even taken those goals and broken them down into chunks and pieces and steps and planned it out. I've split them across the months of the year so that I'm not trying to fight 5 battles all at once. And you know what?
I am still significantly overweight.
I still swear too much.
I still haven't memorized more than a half dozen Bible Verses in a single year. And ask me how many of those I still remember!
I still am not independently wealthy.
I still am not comfortably wealthy.
I still bounce checks at least once or twice a year.
I still have no savings to speak of.
I still have not published a book, nor researched getting published, nor edited the books I have managed to finish.
I keep those lists of goals. So I can refer back to them. You know, Someday. I've looked at them in my moves and rearrangements etc. There is a common theme through them all. Change. I want my life to look different. I want my home to look different. I want my body to look different. I want my bank account to look different. I want my character to look different.
Today I changed one thing. In order to accommodate that one thing and make it worth changing I had to change 3-4 other things. I thought about texting it to facebook because I was quite proud of my one change. But I realized I wanted to store it up for myself for that moment. As I pondered what I could possibly still have to write about Hope I decided to share this one thing.
I decided to walk on my lunch hour instead of going home and screwing around on facebook for 45 minutes. In order to do that I had to remember to take walking shoes and clean socks. I had to put them in a bag and hang it on my door handle or I would for sure and for certain forget them. Since I wasn't coming home I also had to figure out lunch. So I had to mix a slim fast shake (I do the powder ones you mix yourself, the pre-canned ones taste icky) and take it with. I also decided that if I was going to try to do this 'healthy' thing that maybe I shouldn't be drinking 2 cokes a day, every single day and eating 2-5 mini crunch bars a day. I can only drink coffee at work until it gets ice cold. I bought a juice smoothie drink thing to take with and open when the coffee got cold, instead of opening a Coke. Plus, I had to put all that stuff into a bag and remember the bag when I left for work. Then .... are you ready for this? I actually USED it all AND went for a walk on my lunch! And, I enjoyed it! My walk was lovely. I was not starving most of the day, like I usually am if I try to do the slim-fast thing. The smoothie was a PERFECT replacement for Coke #1. And, I just plain felt good about making a good choice.
I've been seeing a counselor for awhile now. We talked last week about my terrible sleep habits. One of the things she has repeated to me in various situations regarding a variety of issues and always in a different way, is to not be so absolute with myself. I have been a very All or Nothing person for a very long time. If I'm not going to go to bed "early" every night like a Responsible Adult does, then why bother ever doing it? If I'm not going to work out "regularly" then what good could it possibly do me? If I can't keep up with my checkbook every day or every week like a Good Steward, then why bother trying at all? But as she so accurately pointed out, you know your schedule, you know your life. You know that Monday nights and Thursday nights are late for you. So cut yourself some slack. Go to bed early when you are home early and you can. Basically, stop beating yourself senseless over the fact that two nights a week you choose something else rather than sleep. She's told me this 'stop beating yourself up' thing repeatedly. You'd think I'd be able to start seeing it on my own. Nope!
So, this week, I went to bed early Tuesday night and tried to go to bed early last night. Tuesday I ended up not sleeping quite as early as I'd hoped, but still way earlier than I had been previously. Last night, same thing, but that time I couldn't fall asleep once I was in bed, so I didn't actually get a great night's sleep, but I tried. Tonite, I am home early from campus so I might just get to bed at a decent time! We'll see.
Today there is hope in the one choice. Today I chose to walk at lunch. I am going to be happy about that. Even if I don't do it again for MONTHS! I did it today. And that is worth celebrating. I've done it once, I know it is possible, I can do it again another day. Possibly tomorrow. Who knows!
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
~day 26~ New Life
A few years ago a movie came out called Children of Men. A dramatic, apocalyptic type movie. I am not sure I knew going in what the true storyline was, but I do know I am in love with Clive Owen, and would see just about anything he is in.
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| If you can resist him, I envy you. ;) |
What the movie is actually about is a world in the future in which women no longer get pregnant or if they do get pregnant they do not carry to term. There is no scientific reason they can find for this, nothing we "did" to ourselves as a race, and it is a worldwide phenomenon. The last "baby" has just turned 18 in the opening scenes of the movie. If I recall he gets mobbed or attacked or something because he is seen as a messiah type figure because he was the last child born on the planet. Ultimately a woman is found who has conceived naturally and is already at or past 8 months along and Clive's task is to try to get her safely to a place where she can have this child safely. There are all sorts of political intrigues hinted at but never explained.
All of that explanation to say that babies give me hope. Hope that God has not given up on us as a race yet. Hope that there is still love in the world. Hope that there are still relationships and bonds and connections and commitments. I have two good friends who are pregnant now and if you compare it against the world in the movie, they are totally taking their pregnancies for granted. In fact, one of them is so miserably ill she has not enjoyed a single second of her pregnancy. "Morning Sickness" doesn't even begin to describe what she's endured these last couple of months.
In fact, we don't even have to make a comparison to such a drastic difference in the world. I used to work for an adoption agency. Nearly every family that came to us to build a family through adoption had tried some form of fertility treatment. I can guarantee that every single one of those women would gladly take the miserable morning sickness my friend has if they knew it was because they had gotten pregnant.
I hate winter. I hate being cold. I hate the months on end of gloominess. I hate getting off work in the dark. The only up side to winter is cuddling, which isn't even an up side for me since I have no one to cuddle with except my body pillow ...... and let's just be clear, that is totally not the same. The only other benefit of winter is the fresh appreciation of spring. I was especially amused this year, just a week or two ago when we were complaining about having to get out blankets or heavier jackets or sweaters. Because in March? That exact same temperature is cause not only for celebration, but for shorts and flip flops. There is hope in more sunshine in a day. There is hope in melting snow. There is hope in shedding the excess layers and showing your skin to the sun again. As long as we have new life, in some form, I think we can keep on hoping. As long as my African Violets keep blooming, I'll keep hoping.
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| Violet - my 1st African Violet. She's bloomed at least 5 times in the last 2 years. |
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
~day 25~ Functioning
let me first say, I'm not going to lie. I am *totally* looking forward to being done with this challenge. I feel like I am out of ideas on hope and yet .... every day I can find some way to recognize the hope in my life and then coherently translate that to all of you. But I will be ridiculously glad when the 31st is here. But that doesn't even mean I get a break because November is NaNoWriMo!! And I have my story idea fermenting!! Just took my first notes on Yarny this FANTASTIC website I found through the goodness of the NaNo site and maybe Twitter, I forget. The degree of love I have for Yarny rivals what I might feel for a boyfriend. Seriously. If a guy created Yarny and if that guy was single I would TOTALLY date him. I'd probably stalk him for that matter. So I'm a little excited about NaNo. A lot excited about being done with these 31 days. And inspired enough to share today's thoughts on hope with you. (side bar, if you have any desire to encourage me to write or help things like NaNo keep running, since they are non-profit entities, click on over this site and on the righthand side is a box you can go "sponsor" me. Monday can go directly to NaNo. Give it a shot. I'll give you a cameo in my book! You can even tell me who you want to be! hee hee hee.)
Some days functioning is the max you can sustain. You have no extra. You have no room or space or excess. You go to work, you are mostly productive for most of the day, you come home, and on really good days you can do something productive at home before you shut down. Tonite I did my dishes. They weren't ridiculous, but I was out of bowls and travel coffee mugs. Plus, I'm home tonite, may or may not be home tomorrow night, won't be home thurs, probably will be gone fri and .... I'm tired of rinsing out a bowl for the next morning. Somehow that seems gross, although I can't quite put my finger on why. But, I digress.
As someone who has struggled with depression for a long time I only now recognize how hard it can be to function. I told a friend today, a friend who has been through more these last couple years than I have, that to be honest I'm surprised neither one of us is curled up in the fetal position in a closet. And when I consider the major blows of this year and the stress levels I've had for a few years and the ups and downs of relationships, mostly friendships, but guys too, I amaze myself a bit at how strong I (apparently) am. I shrug even as I type that, I don't know any other way to be. But I am coming around to a point of appreciating it. Appreciating who I am and how I have been created. Appreciating that there is value even in the tasks that are "just functioning."
My bathroom got cleaned three weeks ago, I think it was three. As did my floors, a bit of dusting and vacuuming. Before that ..... the toilet got swished a few weeks before that. I don't remember when I last vacuumed or mopped up my floors. And I refuse to dust on principle. There is hope in doing my dishes. It means I haven't given up entirely on life yet. I haven't given up on the future. I still have a sliver of hope, at the least, that tomorrow can be different. Or maybe just that tomorrow is a new day. Or maybe even just that today is over and I can crash if I need to.
We don't give ourselves enough credit. We spend too much time comparing ourselves to everyone around us and not enough time considering how far we've come. Or giving ourselves a point or whatever for getting that one thing done. So what if the "to do list" is as long as your arm or fills half a steno pad. You got that thing done, didn't you? So what if the dishes will start piling up tomorrow? You got the ones that were there done today, right? So what if you didn't wash that last knife because you didn't find it til you let out your water. You have other knives.
In a lot of things we compare ourselves to those around us. But, sometimes, we compare ourselves to our family, how a parent did something or how you were raised to do something. But who gets to say what is right?? I don't do weekly cleaning. I'm just not a "clean" person, I don't care. And because I was raised with weekly cleaning I absorbed the idea that you cleaned everything once a week. So, as an adult I despise cleaning. I don't want to do it all at once. It's overwhelming to me. But, swishing out the toilet every week or two isn't overwhelming. Sweeping the kitchen when i've dropped one too many things on it, isn't overwhelming. (confession moment here ....... are you ready???) Keeping an extra toilet brush inside my shower so I can swish out the tub after a shower once in awhile, isn't overwhelming. But we don't give ourselves permission to make our own rules. We don't give ourselves credit for the steps we are taking towards continuing to function. We certainly don't recognize that underlying all of that is a sliver of hope. Because if you have truly lost hope, then there is no need to do the dishes. There is no need to clean the toilet. There is no need to change the sheets. So, if you are still functioning, give yourself credit for what you did. Even if it was only to get up and go to work. You still get credit for that.
Some days functioning is the max you can sustain. You have no extra. You have no room or space or excess. You go to work, you are mostly productive for most of the day, you come home, and on really good days you can do something productive at home before you shut down. Tonite I did my dishes. They weren't ridiculous, but I was out of bowls and travel coffee mugs. Plus, I'm home tonite, may or may not be home tomorrow night, won't be home thurs, probably will be gone fri and .... I'm tired of rinsing out a bowl for the next morning. Somehow that seems gross, although I can't quite put my finger on why. But, I digress.
As someone who has struggled with depression for a long time I only now recognize how hard it can be to function. I told a friend today, a friend who has been through more these last couple years than I have, that to be honest I'm surprised neither one of us is curled up in the fetal position in a closet. And when I consider the major blows of this year and the stress levels I've had for a few years and the ups and downs of relationships, mostly friendships, but guys too, I amaze myself a bit at how strong I (apparently) am. I shrug even as I type that, I don't know any other way to be. But I am coming around to a point of appreciating it. Appreciating who I am and how I have been created. Appreciating that there is value even in the tasks that are "just functioning."
My bathroom got cleaned three weeks ago, I think it was three. As did my floors, a bit of dusting and vacuuming. Before that ..... the toilet got swished a few weeks before that. I don't remember when I last vacuumed or mopped up my floors. And I refuse to dust on principle. There is hope in doing my dishes. It means I haven't given up entirely on life yet. I haven't given up on the future. I still have a sliver of hope, at the least, that tomorrow can be different. Or maybe just that tomorrow is a new day. Or maybe even just that today is over and I can crash if I need to.
We don't give ourselves enough credit. We spend too much time comparing ourselves to everyone around us and not enough time considering how far we've come. Or giving ourselves a point or whatever for getting that one thing done. So what if the "to do list" is as long as your arm or fills half a steno pad. You got that thing done, didn't you? So what if the dishes will start piling up tomorrow? You got the ones that were there done today, right? So what if you didn't wash that last knife because you didn't find it til you let out your water. You have other knives.
In a lot of things we compare ourselves to those around us. But, sometimes, we compare ourselves to our family, how a parent did something or how you were raised to do something. But who gets to say what is right?? I don't do weekly cleaning. I'm just not a "clean" person, I don't care. And because I was raised with weekly cleaning I absorbed the idea that you cleaned everything once a week. So, as an adult I despise cleaning. I don't want to do it all at once. It's overwhelming to me. But, swishing out the toilet every week or two isn't overwhelming. Sweeping the kitchen when i've dropped one too many things on it, isn't overwhelming. (confession moment here ....... are you ready???) Keeping an extra toilet brush inside my shower so I can swish out the tub after a shower once in awhile, isn't overwhelming. But we don't give ourselves permission to make our own rules. We don't give ourselves credit for the steps we are taking towards continuing to function. We certainly don't recognize that underlying all of that is a sliver of hope. Because if you have truly lost hope, then there is no need to do the dishes. There is no need to clean the toilet. There is no need to change the sheets. So, if you are still functioning, give yourself credit for what you did. Even if it was only to get up and go to work. You still get credit for that.
~Day 24~ Tangible Help
I have spent most of this month talking about the intangible evidences of hope. About the not visible to the naked eye rays of hope. Tonite, I realized that hope can be very tangible. And it is especially vibrant when the tangible thing is an act of goodness or generosity towards someone else. I will probably have the opportunity in the weeks and months to come to help a friend with a specific need. I smiled as I considered how to go about accomplishing this task int he weeks to come.
I know that more than once I have babysat for a friend to allow them to spend a few hours with a spouse and reconnect.
I have helped a few different friends clean, reorganize or rearrange an area of their home.
I have created a CD of beautiful images with Bible verses on them for my students.
I have purchased countless meals for those students in these years I've been volunteering.
I have shoveled a walk or two.
I have taken meals to new families.
I have helped create newsletters for things at church.
And those are just the material and tangible things I can think of off the top of my head. That doesn't include praying for others. That doesn't include spending my money on extra gas every week to drive up to whitewater to meet with students. That doesn't include spending money on conferences or scholarships. That doesn't include a hug to someone who is hurting, or even just doing any less than spectacular.
Again, if you can do this, you have hope. If you can allow yourself to refill your gas tank when what you really want is to get cable back so you can sit on your couch and watch useless, brain-numbing television all night every single night, you have hope. If you can cook a meal for a new family and manage to hold it together and not break down weeping as you hold that brand new bundle of promise, you have hope. If you can help convert the sanctuary into a reception hall without screaming or throwing things in a fit of frustration, you have hope. I'm not certain if I'd said it before, but it bears repeating if I have,
If you can see past your own nose,
and you choose to look out rather than in,
you have hope.
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