Just Being

I am an organized person. I like To Do lists and calendars. I get tremendous satisfaction out of putting a check mark by something I have accomplished, or crossing it off my list entirely.

But lately I have been thinking about how many times that To Do list stares me down and does nothing but make me feel guilty. (I gave up guilt for Lent last year, so guilt and I have a better relationship than we used to, but it still rears it's ugly head now and then.) And I started to pay attention to the outside sources that add to this angst. I noticed that every women's magazine I enjoy talks about three main topics: how thin I can make my body, how perfect my skin can be, and how I can still have a Martha Stewart home without hurting my budget or waste my time. I noticed that what I read about getting writing done was simply about MAKING the time and being more disciplined. And I saw that when it came to spiritual topics, I was not putting God first because I am not up at 4 a.m. praying for hours and reading my Bible every night before bed.

I have been attempting to take the advice of the resources just mentioned and quite frankly, my To Do list is way too long and I am exhausted.

So here is my question: Whatever happened to simply JUST BEING?

I have found that when I say that statement out loud, the response is usually a friendly, "Hmmm, yes," followed by a look or comment similar to, "But who has the time?" Okaaaay.

When did just being become the equivalent of laziness? Why should I feel that I won't match up if I don't spend an hour washing my face a certain way each night for "perfect, youthful" skin or exercise exactly an hour every day? Why do I feel that my writing will never amount to anything because I sat and played a board game with my daughter instead of writing my 1,500 words that day? Why should I feel guilty that my quiet time with God happens while I am driving around running errands and chatting with Jesus in my car instead of a set time and place?

When I say I like to just be, that in no way means I sit around staring all day. For me, just being means that I have my set goals for the day, but with the open minded attitude that when my friend calls and needs me to help her, I'm going to say yes. It means that when my child wakes up sick that day, I am going to not worry so much about how many words I get written in my book that day, but take time to snuggle and nurture that child. Just being means that I may find myself stopping to look at the sky that has the sun peeking through the clouds and thank God for his awesome hand on my life. I think we miss so much of what is important in life because we are so set on doing things the way others are, and we end up in some crazy competition before we even know it.

My daughter is 13 years-old and she teaches me something every single day. She is a great student, a responsible kid, and a loving person. She plays softball and loves it. Every year, when her regular season is over, she is asked to play on an All-Star team. For the last three years, she has politely declined. The coaches call me and beg and ask to let her play. I have to tell them that my husband and I have left the decision up to her every year. And every year, her answer is the same. "Thank you for the opportunity, but I am still a kid and I would like to have a summer. I want to swim with my friends, hang out with my family, and not be ruled by a schedule." Hmmm, I think she knows how to just be.

When I take the time to just be, I see the person God designed and I like her a lot more than the one with a To Do list in her hand and all the marks checked off.

The Known Factor

I am a planner and a forward thinker by nature. I like to have a plan, and when that plan is altered, I am flustered until a new one is devised. Yes, I am a control freak and will own that as well about myself.

I tend to enjoy the known quantities of my day. My children go to school, I do my work, get things done at home, etc., go get them from school, go to whatever practices or events they need to attend, have dinner, do homework, read, and go to bed. I like structure. I like the KNOWN. I am extremely organized. I get upset when I go for an item, say a pair of scissors or some tape to wrap a present, and said items are not where they are supposed to be. My family says to me constantly, "Mom, do you know where my (random item) is?" The answer is always, "Yes, yes I do." Because I have either seen it recently and made a mental note of it, or I have been the one to put the item in it's designated spot. I like reliability, in myself and others.

Now, before you go thinking I am the most uptight person on the planet, (I'm really not), hear me out. I say these things because although I am wired to be in order, I also have an adventurous side. However, these two enjoy teasing and taunting one another in my brain.

I have recently been faced with a big decision to make and I find that these two parts of my personality are having quite a bit of fun with each other. The part of my brain that knows what is coming and is comfortable wants to stay put and make no changes. The adventurous part of me is nagging and saying, "Come on! This will be so much fun. It's time for a change." It's exhausting, quite frankly.

However, I feel myself listening more and more to my adventurous side. I know that the things I need to rely on will still be there: my husband's love, my children's joy, my friend's who care for me. These are the things that truly matter. With those things in tact, I believe I will let my adventurous side win this time. (It usually does ;-)

The Real Me

For years I struggled how to answer people when they asked me what I do for a living. Wipe noses? Change diapers? Stroll the neighborhood with a double stroller jammed with my daughter and twin boys? Now I guess my answer would be more along the lines of drive to school, check homework, do laundry, and pack lunches or sports bags. But I always sensed that my generation didn't see staying home full time with my kids as a glamorous or sexy career choice. And I guess, in honesty, it's not. So I would try and make myself sound better. I would say I am a writer (which was and is true) and make whatever projects I was working on seem glossier than they really were. For too long I bought into the lie that a full calendar is a full life.

Then one day I decided to own my choice to stay home because it is intertwined with who I am. I don't ever remember having lofty career goals, but I do remember wanting a family and being a mom. I have been fortunate enough to not have to work outside my home, but it's more than that. It's how I'm wired. I like being home and doing laundry, paying the bills, making phone calls, and fixing what needs fixed. (Okay, maybe the bill paying is a stretch.) I love walking the dog or making soup for a sick friend. I love that when the kids get home from school I have a snack waiting and when my husband walks in the door, the scent of dinner in the oven wafts through the house.

I think our world is spinning too fast. No, not every day is exactly like the one I described above. In the spring my life is softball practice and games and football in the fall. But I love that too. And I try in every season of life to make sure that a calm, safe haven is what awaits for myself and my brood.

So now when people ask me what I do, my answer is "I'm a homemaker". A 1950's sounding word? Maybe. But I like it because I think it defines me in one word. I make a home. And a lot of blood, sweat, tears, and prayer go into that. I happen to write as well, but it's not the job I am most proud of. I receive no financial reward for my labor as a homemaker, but I can see in the faces of my family all the reward I will ever need.

The Battle For My Kid's Health

My 12 year-old daughter walked by the other day and said, "My thighs are too big."

My head just about came off. This child is 5 feet, 5 1/2 inches tall and weighs about 95 pounds. She plays every sport imaginable and is the epitome of health. After I calmed myself down, I talked to her about why she viewed herself that way, and that her health and strength are positives. I told her - again - how comparing herself to anyone else is destructive and that God made her unique and individual. (Yes, I got the tween eye roll a few times, but I hope my message got through.)

She went upstairs to read and I sat on the couch, perplexed. Where in the world does she get this stuff? I enjoy fashion magazines sometimes, but I flip through them and get rid of them. The only ones allowed to stay in my magazine rack are Sports Illustrated, Natural Health, and Women's Day. And I am fairly sure she doesn't give those the time of day. And she watches TV, but quite frankly, a lot of sports and iCarly. Nothing that I can think is too damaging.

As far as her home life, her mother is a Certified Nutrition Consultant and her dad a former baseball player who is adamant about a healthy lifestyle. We talk with our kids about listening to what your body really needs, getting lots of fruits and vegetables, and I'm sure they are sick of the words "moderation" and "balance." Words like "skinny and fat" are banned from our home. I am adamant about making life about how we care for ourselves, our relationships, and not how we look.

My best guess at this point is that she is in 7th grade this year. She has gone to the same private school since pre-school and many of these kids I have seen grow from age 4 to age 12 and 13. And this year has been the most interesting to watch. They are going from round faced little kids to gangly tweens almost overnight. And for whatever reason, this age seems to be when they become extremely aware of how they look, as well as how everyone else around them looks. My daughter never once before cared if her clothes matched, if her shoes were the same as anyone else's, or if her hair looked remotely clean. Now she wants a hairstyle, a certain backpack from a specific store, and skinny jeans. Quite frankly, I am fine with all of the above, and I understand it as a part of growing up. But when did this obsession with weight and being thin truly begin?

I said to my husband the other day that I don't ever remember talking about or even thinking about calories, fat, or fat and skinny when I was growing up. I grew up with a dad who never stopped moving. He loved to play basketball, tennis, lift weights, and swim. And I believe whole heartedly he did it because he loved it, not because he was counting calories and needed to watch his weight. My mother taught us to eat healthy and, although we were allowed to watch TV, we spent most of our time outside riding bikes, swimming, or playing. But I have no memories of conversations that centered around weight or being thin.

I was enlightened not long ago at a middle school event at my daughter's school. There was a back to school barbecue before the high school football game that evening. A group of moms, including myself, helped pass out hot dogs, chips, fruit, and cookies. I happened to be at the end of the line serving cookies. As I stood and asked each person if they would like a cookie, I noticed that most people looked at the cookie in my hand as if it were a live grenade. And I heard comments like, "No, I shouldn't," or "Well, I'll have one, but it's a good thing I got on the treadmill this morning," or "That has WAY too many calories." And these were comments from 12 year-olds! And not just from the girls. I left the event in shock. I sat at the football game later talking to my friend, who happened to be serving the fruit, about how no one seemed to think that the entire meal wasn't all that healthy, except for the fruit, but no one seemed to mind eating the rest of it. The cookie was the evil one. I went home feeling sad and somewhat hopeless. One of the girls in my daughter's class I know has struggled with an eating disorder and I only wonder how many more do as well.

So where are they learning it? Can we blame the media? I realize that the hot topics in our country are obesity and weight, but is that the true problem? Are we as parents not teaching our kids about confidence in who they are without ever involving their looks? Or are we simply battling their peer group which at times can seem absolutely unbeatable? Is it because we as adults get just as sucked-in to how society tells us we should look at a certain age or how fast we women are supposed to lose our baby weight after having kids? (I think the latest I read is 3 weeks - ridiculous.) I truly wish I knew.

What I do know is that I struggled with my weight for a long time and only recently learned something about myself. And it was as simple as a friend saying to me, "You're not fat." Those words have changed my entire view of myself. I realized that for almost 20 years I have viewed myself as a fat person who needs to always be working at losing weight, reaching a number, or looking a certain way. I have always focused on a healthy lifestyle, even studying Nutrition to be more educated. But as soon as I said to myself, "I'm not fat," my whole perspective changed. Do I want to take care of myself and be healthy and strong? Absolutely. But am I fat? No. I let two comments from unkind people in the past stick with me for SO long and make me believe that I was something I am not.

So for me, I am going to attempt to teach my children that their goal in life is not to be skinny, or not end up fat. Their goal is to care for the body God gave them, trust that their body is designed and created to tell them what it needs, and that life is not about how they look. Can I battle the juggernauts that are the media and peer pressure and win? Maybe not. But I will go to my grave trying.

Sundance 2010 - Day Two

We didn't see a movie until 3 p.m. today so we walked around Main Street strolling through shops and lunching at Flannagan's Irish Pub.

These were the movies we saw:

The Dry Land

This is a look at how PTSD affects soldiers returning from war. It was authentic in its depiction of PTSD and I appreciated the fact that no political statements were being made. Lack of background music throughout much of the film made it tense and realistic.

James has just returned home to Texas from Iraq and says he is fine but tends to have outbursts of uncontrollable anger and rage. Unable to articulate to his wife or friends what is wrong, he goes in search of the only two soldiers who survived – along with James – when a bomb hit their vehicle. James has no memory of what happened and convinces one of the soldiers to remind him, causing even more despair.

This movie touches on how difficult it is for soldiers to return home and fall back into the life they left behind.

It’s a Wonderful Afterlife

British director, Gurinder Chadha, tells a humorous and sometimes gruesome tale of an Indian woman living in the Little India section of London who is desperately trying to marry off her daughter. Intertwined with a murder mystery, this story shows that it is possible to be loved for who you truly are, not just how you look. It was quirky, funny, and highly enjoyable.

Holy Rollers

This is a story of Sam Gold, a 20 year-old Hasidic Jew trying to find his place in the world. He desires to be a Rabbi and marry and have a large family, but instead he gets involved with his best friend’s older brother smuggling ecstasy from Amsterdam to New York. This causes him to question his faith as well as what he is truly destined to be in life.

I found this film interesting in seeing Sam struggle to hold onto his faith and yet want to feel he has something separate from his family. It was slow at times though and sad to watch Sam’s life spiral out of control.

Sundance 2010 - Day One

Everyone is wrapped in scarves and coats. Each person carries a bright orange booklet that says Sundance Film Festival. It’s snowy, it’s cold, and it’s absolutely perfect.

We saw our first film today in the Eccles theater which seats about 1,200 people. It looks like the old theaters that have a big balcony and a stage. The Director of Sundance introduces the film, the lights go down, and the story begins.

We saw a film called “Nowhere Boy” about John Lennon in his teenage years. Raised by his Aunt and Uncle, he is unaware that his mother lives only a few blocks away. When he discovers her nearby, he develops a relationship with her, bringing answers to light about his upbringing.

Whether you like John Lennon or not, this is an interesting film to see. Whenever I hear about John Lennon, I picture the cover of his “Imagine” CD – a man with a long, narrow face, long hair and round rimmed glasses. This film shows an entirely different side of Lennon. It shows a rebellious teen, struggling to find himself amidst a confusing childhood, and looking to music for comfort and a place in the world. It is a story of love, forgiveness, and family.

Saying Goodbye

My mom just called to tell me that my dad's best friend from high school died of a massive heart attack yesterday. He was 64 years old. My dad and mom met Walt when they were freshman in high school and was on the basketball team with my dad. He was a tall man with a huge smile, a kind spirit and a tremendously infectious laugh. He was a faithful friend.

I first met Walt when I was about 4 years-old. I had just woken up from a nap and he was standing there in his socks, holding a soda and talking to my dad on the back porch of our house in Florida. We had a lot of construction workers walking around the house because we were doing a renovation. I remember going up to my dad and asking him in a whisper why one of the workmen was standing there in his socks? Walt heard me and chuckled. I heard his laugh and saw his smile and liked him instantly.

As I get older, I realize that my parent's friends and family are at an age where I am having to say goodbye to them. And some of them way too soon. This is tough for me one a few levels. Saying goodbye is difficult enough, but for me these people helped keep my dad's memory alive. They have memories of him that they share that make him less of a ghost. Walt was one of these people. As I say goodbye to him, I say goodbye to my dad all over again.

I have no idea where Walt stood spiritually. It is not my job to judge another person's heart. But I pray from the bottom of my heart that he is, right now, shooting hoops with my dad, his laughing ringing through the courts of heaven.