Voices Inside My Head

Yesterday night, my youngest informed me she wanted to go to church this morning.

Let me back up a minute and explain why this is interesting. Prior to moving here, we were at church every single Sunday. As part of the move, I made a decision that it was time to explore my spirituality a little differently. We went to a church about an hour away then, and it was exactly what I needed at the time - very progressive, liberal, and a place to heal. But then it wasn't. So we stopped going. It was hard to get there.

I tried going to church where I live, and became intensely frustrated. I'm just not a match for what I'm hearing, and there are some services I just can't stomach, so there's no reason to even try with them. Regardless, going to church served to take me farther away from where I was than where I needed to be. So we quit going.

In the past few months, both girls have deepened friendships with children who attend a church that can be in my comfort zone, and I've encouraged them to go. So when my youngest said she wanted to go to church today, I fully encouraged it, and went with her. Her motivation, though, is to have the opportunity to play with her friend - there isn't a spiritual reason for it, really. That's fine, though.

I do want them to develop spiritually, but it's been hard to do that formally because of location.

So, today I went with my youngest - and I left the service with many voices inside my head. And I've had to write them out, because a)I have other things I really need to focus on and b) they have been festering. If a sermon is designed to make you think, then kudos to the minister, because that is indeed what happened. So here they are:

1. This church has a very White population. There was also an insert in the bulletin about the evangelism committee. The expectations listed were so surface in nature that I thought about the fact that I often wonder if I am mired in mediocrity - Surrounded by people who are not willing to think differently.
2. I couldn't help but think about the huge racial divide where I live.
3. This sermon went away from the typical Methodist litany in that it wasn't over the selected scriptures for the week. In fact, no scripture was directly referenced. The sermon was actually 4 sermons written by a "Black preacher" (and that's a quote from the minister, so I will stick with the adjective) years ago that the minister had memorized. So here I am in a very White church hearing words originally spoken by a Black minister for what I assume was a Black audience. And the minister changed his voice to be more similar in delivery to a Black preacher. Huge irony there. And I couldn't help but think that this is indeed a stretch for many in the congregation.
4. After I got past the irony, I listened to the words and the cadence. They were beautiful. I understood why the minister loved the words, yet I remained somewhat bothered by the license that people take when re-crafting stories for an audience. How much liberty should be allowed before the meaning becomes lost?
5. The fact that the minister clarified that even though the words in the sermon only mentioned men, it was to all. My feminist side rankled a bit.
6. DD2 looked at me after the Lord's Prayer and said "I don't know this." A moment of guilt washed over me. I need to do something about that.
7. The last sermon he gave from what he memorized was about the crucifixion, and was written as if someone was there watching. During this sermon, I had my arm around DD2 and she was snuggled in. She played with my jewelry and I stroked her hand, and I was taken back to my childhood for a moment.
8. Within that same sermon I was able to imagine myself as Jesus' mother. Watching the scene, and knowing in my heart that I would take his place if it meant saving my child from such agony. The true manifestation of unconditional love. And then
9. Wondering again about how the congregation (and I include myself in this word) received the message - is there a sense of being willing to learn from others who are not like us, and genuinely being open to it, rather than feeling good about it after a false sense of bridge building? Goes back full circle to #1.

I wonder how others processed the sermon today. I really do.

I'm glad I went.

$40.61

Strange title for a blog post. Strange sentiment behind it, too.

I've done a lot of letting things go that weren't really mine recently. A cleaning of the cobwebs, if you will. Whether it was a person who needed to be exorcised from my life, or things that didn't bring me joy - clothing that doesn't fit or match me anymore, for example - letting things go so that I am open to the new has been a theme for me. There's a great passage in "Eat Pray Love" that's pretty similar to my thought processes of late:

If you clear out all that space in your mind that you’re using right now to obsess about this guy, you’ll have a vacuum there, an open spot — a doorway. And guess what the universe will do with that doorway? It will rush in — God will rush in — and fill you with more love than you ever dreamed.

Sometimes those cobwebs are real and tangible - and while the above quote is about obsessing over a guy, I do think there's more to it than that. For me, it's been about determining what memories I wish to have around from work, school, children, friendships, as well as romantic relationships. So my actions? Five dollars I returned to an old flame that was once his and I had been unable to spend. Things literally thrown away or honored...

Which leads to this:

While my marriage has been over for a very long time, I've held on to the last material vestige of that relationship in my jewelry box: my wedding ring. I'm not sure why, honestly. I guess because it is small and doesn't really take up that much physical space. Easy to forget that I still have it... except one never really forgets.

About 6 months ago, I put the ring in my purse. I think only because I finally had the recognition that it is time for it to go - it may not have been taking up physical space, but it was taking up emotional space. I figured I would sell it or pawn it. Sunday I had the opportunity to sell it, and when I found out how much they wanted to give me for it, I had pause. Matter of fact, I still have it, because I figured I better check out other venues before just accepting what I had been told. Truthfully, though, I paused because the amount I was offered for the circle of gold was $40.61.

And therein lies the rub. The ring I cherished and wore daily for a long time is only worth $40.61? That relationship's current figurative cost is now less than a pair of shoes or a blouse? I honestly thought it would be worth a little more than that - maybe $100, or so, but $40.61?

After I got that quote I walked around, shopped, and really thought. No, the relationship is worth much more than that, but it's not a monetary value. I will always have my kids and the memories we've made together. Not to mention the good times that were present in the marriage. The ring... really is inconsequential. Yet at one point it meant so much. Yet it is nothing more than a symbol - something that says to society "I made a commitment." So ironic in so many ways.

It is time for it to go. Its symbolism has changed. And so have I.

When I took the ring off, I also made a commitment: To love myself and my children enough to heal. I don't know that I will ever wear another band around my left ring finger again, but I do know that if I do it will be for the right reasons, with someone who is a fit for me, and from a place that is whole to start with. It will be with me knowing that my worth does not come from a band around my finger, but from within.

In short, the Universe has rushed in...

'Tis the Season

While I've been in my grading crunch for the past week or so, the fact that I've not done as much for Christmas as I'd like to have done already has also been providing a good bit of stress. I've tried to push it aside, but I admit it's creeped in on occasion. Grades were turned in yesterday, but I find myself in a different place than I thought I'd be at this point. I thought I'd be all gung ho about finishing shopping, etc, but I'm not. And last night I ordered New Year's cards, recognizing that I didn't need more stress trying to get anything out the door by next week.

I know why, too. On Monday, one of our neighbor's houses burned to the ground. We pulled up into the subdivision at the height of the fire. It was extraordinarily windy, and the fire was dangerously close to spreading to another house. A very sombering, sickening sight.

But then today I got an email about a dear sorority sister of mine who had a tumor removed off her pituitary gland a few weeks ago, and then had complications. She's still in the hospital, and prognosis is good, although she won't be able to sneeze or cough or do much else for 6 weeks.

And I'm left with the thought that my Christmas stressors are pretty inconsequential in the whole scheme of things.

'Tis the season ... not to be worried about details, but to love those around me, and be thankful for my blessings.

I count these among many:

• None of my neighbors were hurt, and their things can be replaced.
• Medical science is wonderful, and my sorority sister has wonderful friends and family by her side.

Those are excellent Christmas gifts.

Best Laid Schemes of Mice and Moms...

I didn’t run today until 4:15. Crazy. Such is life, though – some days it takes awhile to get moving due to things beyond one’s control.

I haven’t been running with my iPhone lately, preferring to have company with my own thoughts, and take the time to talk to God. Today, I took the phone since my kids needed to be able to reach me, and rather than play my usual running mix, I put it on random.

I never cease to be amazed at what happens when I do that. I skip a few songs, typically, but try not to do too many. More times than not, it seems that I hear exactly what I need to hear, and maybe there are some things I need to think about.

The mix was not as fast paced as I like to run to, but when I listened to the beat today, I realized it was right where I needed to be. First song was “Then,” and it just made me smile. A sense of both hope and being very happy with where I am right now just washed over me. It wasn’t long until two songs in a row came on that made me think of a friend of mine. One because he is the one singing it. The other, because he introduced me to this particular band’s music.

Ironically, or not, this friend emailed me yesterday to tell me what has been happening in his life over the past few months. We went out a few times over a year ago, and he breezed in and out of my life in many ways, but we somehow managed to remain friends. But the main crux of the email is that he became friends with a woman who was pregnant, but had been cast off by the baby’s father… somewhere along the way they fell in love, and he decided he wanted to be this baby’s father. The baby was born on Monday.

When I got that email, I just couldn’t help but smile. I’ve listened to him and paid attention to his crazy antics for the past few years, and had decided that he was happy being a single man who is married to his music. I’ve sensed that in some ways he has been lost – not really knowing what he wanted. For the first time, as I read his email yesterday, I sensed that suddenly he has found something to ground him. And that he’s happy. Everything I read felt just right.

So, I smiled when those songs came up, and I started praying for him, and the two new women in his life.

Then, the next song that came up was “How Great Is Our God” by Chris Tomlin. And my heart started to burst. It was gorgeous outside, and after thinking about my friend and his decision, it just seems divinely inspired. And on top of that, I felt the same way as I was running. How Great is Our God! I started thinking about the past few years and thinking about all the things that I’ve wanted, but didn’t get…. And the thought on many of those was “Thank GOD!”

How often is it we think we know what’s best, but find out that we’re not right?

Next was “I Can Only Imagine” by Mercy Me. And I was blown away. Ok, God… what are you trying to tell me today? My pace picked up and the song was central – wasn’t even thinking about the run itself… just opening myself up to whatever God seemed to be wanting to show me today.

I skipped a few songs, but it seemed that each song title made me think of someone – whether it was someone I dated along the way, or just a really good friend.

And then the music settled into “All That We Let In” by Indigo Girls – Hmmm…

You may not see it when it’s sticking to your skin

But we’re better off for all that we let in.

See those crosses on the side of the road

Tied with ribbons in the median

They make me grateful I can go this mile

Lay me down at night and wake me up again.

I smiled. I had been running. And had just run several miles. And was beyond grateful that I could do that. More than that, though, the words meant something different than they had previously.

Crosses on the side of the road… for some reason today that was about past relationships, or even potential relationships, that didn’t work. Or relationships that ran their course. People who came into my life for a season, but aren’t as central as they used to be for whatever reason.

How odd is that? Yet I’m grateful for each person who has been in my life for whatever length of time, or in whatever form, because they helped bring me here. To a place that is happy. Deep down in the gut happy.

Odd... would never have thought about this song that way before.

Finally, the run ended on “Now and Forever” by Carole King.

Now and forever, you are a part of me…

Sheez… I literally laughed out loud. This almost seems hokey, but it seemed that today’s run was about honoring the past. And recognizing that God has had a wonderful hand in that past. The past that has brought me to today, where God’s hand is definitely still present.

The Dinner Party Question

Not the same Dinner Party, but a really good one...
Judy Chicago

source

Recently, I was asked the question that you hear about, but you never think you'll actually have to answer. The dinner party question - If you had a dinner party and could invite any 5 people in history, living or dead, who would you invite and why?

I thought about the ones most people might say [Jesus, etc], and while yes, I'd like that very much, I talk to Him a good bit already, and the others aren't as central to who I am. So, after careful consideration of the question, here's my answer:

1. My Aunt Shelley - my mom's sister. She was killed in a car accident the day before her 19th birthday. I was 7. I've been told that I'm a lot like her. So much so that I wasn't allowed to drive or leave home on the day before my 19th birthday. Things changed when she died, and I remember the change. I remember as a young child thinking that she was someone I could always talk to, and I have wanted her presence a number of times as I've gotten older. I also remember childhood prayers where I prayed for her after she was dead... but really, it was more of trying to talk to her.

2. Jane Roland Martin - a philosopher of education. I was taking a philosophy course the first semester of my doctorate and thinking, "Oh my God - what have I done. This is AWFUL!" Trying so hard to figure out Plato, Hegel, Locke, Idealism, Realism, Pragmatism, Existentialism, etc... I had the thought that if this is what I'm going to be doing for the next 4 years, then I will never make it. What on earth did this have to do with getting a doctorate? I struggled with the material, reading all the recommended books as well as the required books, doing massive searches through academic databases and journals trying to find ANYTHING to help me figure out ontology, epistemology, and axiology of these philosophers and these -isms [not sure I would do well with it today, to be honest], and I came to a chapter in one of the books that was by Jane Roland Martin. And things started to click. I finally felt that I was reading something real as opposed to something so esoteric as to not have real meaning in the world. It's what led me into re-examining the word "feminist" as something other than a bad word, and helped me to recognize that one of the things I had internalized was that women are not as good as men - from what is taught in school, who is taught, and how it is taught, to even how I was treated at church, and in some ways in my marriage. Helped me to frame some questions that I had never dared frame before. Started me on the path of framing questions that I needed to frame, not just professionally, but personally.

3. Emily Saliers - one of the Indigo Girls. Some of her song lyrics just pierce me. The Wood Song, All That We Let in, Fleet of Hope, Prince of Darkness, Lay My Head Down, Love Will Come To You, Virginia Woolf, Watershed are ones that I will listen to over and over again. I would like to get in her head for just a little bit.

4. Nicholas Sparks - he writes brain candy books, really, but damn. Anyone who can give me a good cry like that deserves a piece of homemade chocolate cake.

5. Martha - my piano teacher. She would eat up the conversation between everyone at the table, laugh, and provide questions or insight that is wise. An old soul with a young heart. A true blessing in this world - any time spent with her is a gift in and of itself. She's currently a librarian at a school on an Indian Reservation in New Mexico, and how she ended up there is fascinating. She came to see me after I bought the grand piano because she needed to play it and to hear me play. She chuckled at some of my mistakes, and reverted back to giving me direction like she did when I was in high school. I miss her and love her dearly.

Intriguing question. I wonder what my answer would be in a few months or years.

But I AM glad to be 41!

Birthday Celebration as part of GNO

I think facebook is best on birthdays. It's nice to reflect on the people who have at least stopped by my wall for just a moment to say "happy birthday." Nice to think about how I know them and memories I have of them.

So, back to 41 things:

I had originally planned on listing all 41. I've worked on this post off and on for the better part of a few weeks, and I just haven't liked how it's been put together. So, while I know I've done at least 41 things for me - taking the entire month of November, rather than just to my birthday, here are my favorites:

• rewatching all 6 Harry Potter movies with my girls, and then seeing it with them on opening day. It was wonderful!
• spending a day in bed re-reading Harry Potter 7
• On my birthday I got up and ran a 5K. First race since this summer, and only my second "real" race this year. Injuring my knee training for and during the half marathon last year definitely set me back with running. I wanted to do less than 35 minutes, and I did, with 34:57! Not back to my best time, but I really haven't been running longer than 5K distance yet. Who runs a 5K on her birthday? I do!
• I read to a 5th grade class. It's been a long time since I've read to a class, and the kids seemed to enjoy the book. It was great to be back in front of an elementary classroom again. I'm in classrooms a lot, but rarely am I "teaching."
• Doing a dating experiment. Yes. Why not? That's all I'll say about it for now. Carpe diem!
• Taking three 13 year olds to sushi on my birthday. Yes, me who didn't even eat sushi until last May. It's what I wanted to eat. Please, take my temperature.
• Saw Steel Magnolias at the new black box theatre on campus. Lovely, lovely production.
• Went to GNO on a school night. Drove two hours to get there and 2 hours back, but I needed it. Was good to have a night out and have fellowship with people who don't do the same things that I do on a regular basis.
• Tried a Blueberry Beer Float. Sweetwater Blue Beer, vanilla ice cream, blue berries, and raw sugar. It wasn't bad!
• Cancelled class one night.
• Had one week where I was completely caught up with grading.

I find that at the moment I'm in a really good place. Perhaps the best place I've been mentally and emotionally in a very long time. So, I'm curious what's next in this crazy adventure called life.

Forty was a good year. Hard at times, but overall a year of happiness, growth, some sadness, and getting even more in touch with what I want out of life. I certainly spent my days much more centered and focused on the here and now rather than the past or the future, and feel that I savored moments more than I let them pass me by - that may be the greatest gift of all.

I'm so glad I'm not 13

It's so hard to be a teenager. This week has been a hard week for my daughter.

On Tuesday I picked her up at school and had her to the dentist by 2. Last month she had several teeth pulled for round two of braces, and one little portion of a root remained behind. Tuesday's checkup was to check on that root. We were done by 2:20, and in reading her demeanor, decided she needed a little time with me prior to going where she normally goes the afternoons I'm teaching, so we went to Starbucks. I try to do that at least once a week with her, because it provides a neutral space to talk about what she's thinking about without her little sister around. As we sat there, she started to talk about some things that had happened at school and she started tearing up. I asked her if we needed to go sit in the car, and she nodded yes, so we moved from inside to outside and sat in the parking lot awhile. As time passed, I realized that she had a lot on her mind, and was pretty emotional about it all, yet my time frame to be with her was growing shorter, so I asked her if she wanted to go with me to class rather than where she normally goes. She immediately said yes, so we started the journey, which takes about an hour. She talked the whole way.

We talked about her dad, her stepmother, things happening at school, etc... She's dealing with a lot of stressors. One of her biggest stressors is the fact that she's smart, and others are belittling her, including saying things like, "I hate you!" when she figures things out quickly. There's much, much more to this conversation, but suffice it to say I had some major alarm bells going off. I know enough about adolescent development to not brush off what she is telling me. In her world, these things are significant, even though I know that they will eventually pass and things will get better. Telling her that, though, is not really listening to her, or giving her the support she needs. And I know enough about development to know that my offering her solutions is frequently counterproductive. About all I can do is say, "I completely understand."

I suggested she talk with her aunt and uncle about things going on with her dad and stepmother. My days of influence with her dad are long gone - I forfeited that in the divorce. She's not sure that's what she wants to do, but she did say repeatedly that she loves going to her aunt and uncle's house, because they feel more like home than her dad's house. Geez, it's so hard not to react when they tell me things because I get so frustrated listening to how things go when they are with their dad. They had just come off a weekend with them and her wounds, whether real or perceived, were very fresh in her mind. I did help her understand one of the things her dad talked to her about, but she is convinced that she can't talk to him about what is worrying her. That it doesn't matter or do any good....

In class she enjoyed writing on the board and got all of her homework done. She later informed me that my class was boring, to which I told her she didn't know what she was talking about. Of course she was bored - it didn't make any sense to her. She talked to me the whole way home, too - this time she talked more about things going on in school, and read to me the poems she wrote during my class. In one poem, she talked about suicide. Now I know that she wasn't threatening it, but my heart caught in my throat, yet I remained extremely calm as we continued to talk on the way home. The poem was more about understanding why people would take their own lives, but it was also filled with so much anger. I told her I remembered feeling the same way at 13... how it seemed at the time that would be easier than dealing with all the crap at school... how much I hated junior high and was so glad when it was behind me. That life gets better... I asked her if she had listened to P!nk's song "Conversations with my 13 year old self" - she said yes, but it had been awhile. She also talked about how she hated that she was making life difficult for me... to which I replied she wasn't making my life difficult at all - that my favorite part of life is being her mom, and that, among other things, means being there for her when she needs me.

When we got home, she came to me immediately and wrapped her arms around me. I held her for a very long time, and whispered to her that I love her and she has no idea how much joy she has brought me and I couldn't imagine life without her. A little while later she crawled into my lap and I held her in a near fetal position while her sister was getting ready for bed. I suggested she take a long hot bath, and she did - that perhaps it would make her feel better. And while she was in the tub, my youngest crawled into my lap and burst into tears, too. Telling me that her day had been awful....

My oldest decided to restart our conversation journal. She wrote to me prior to bed, and now it's my turn to write back to her. We did this right after the divorce, and it seemed to help her process. Her anger pours off the page. I have no idea what I will respond back. The anger is directed toward "everybody."

Through all of this, there's not a moment that I wish for anything different. While I would love for my children to not be feeling such pain, I am beyond thankful that they feel safe enough to talk to me and to curl up in my lap. Nothing else mattered on Tuesday. Not the class, or anything else. All that mattered for me is that my children consider me a place of refuge.