Category: alternative lifestyle (Page 3 of 6)

Raising Nerds

While at the lake, the young boys contemplated fun things to do that didn’t involve screens. Now one to contribute, my eldest offered, “I had math homework. That’s fun!”

Part of me is so very proud. This will put me in a top-notch nursing home someday. Upscale with organic applesauce and fair trade decaf coffee. Only the best and (most expensive) for this genius’ dear mama.

The honest part of me will say it scares me. If you’ve had a child, sibling or even a dog, I think you know the feeling. A sense of wondering, will he be included? As his mother, I love him in a particular and all-encompassing kind of way. I’m aware the rest of the world doesn’t have such thick ties – they’re free to love their favorite parts and tease about the rest, which is terrorizing.

We want our children to be loved and accepted. This is why we buy Under Armor, yes? Those little 10-year-old bodies don’t need power-wicking and compression. We’re buying a Sense of Enough because we desperately want them to be enough. To be included. Whether or not we had a place there, we want our kids to sit at the Cool Kids Table.

Except, I would argue, we actually don’t.  We just think we do.  Most of us don’t want to make cool the ultimate goal – it’s simply the most visible one. If other kids are flocking to your kid, then your kid must be someone good, right?

We mistake popularity for connection. I think perhaps  when we say we hope for our children to be “included” what we really wish is for them to be known and loved for themselves. We want them to have friends who appreciate and honor them. We want them to feel the connection we have with our closest friends, families and partners. (Or that which we wish we had.)

The easiest and most readily-available solution is to help them become what is likable. There’s a profile out there (one, I would say, that is much more rigorous for young girls, but that is another post). Depending on your context you have to put in the ingredients for the right amount of brains (but not too nerdy), athleticism (in our parts, there’s never too much of this), good looks (but not to the point of vanity) and charm. When we succeed at this potion, society readily responds by asking other children seek out this prototype.

I absolutely love that I’m raising a little nerd. I think it’s cute and inspiring. I don’t want him to change – to love math less, to care if his clothes match more. But I do want him to be accepted. To be valued. True friends will do this, I know.

The easiest thing to do is ask him to be like everyone else. The risk of hurt and rejection seems slender when there’s less differentiation. As usual, I’m not in this for easy – I want the good. But I’ll be honest… living my values is hard, especially when my kid’s childhood is on the table. What if I’m wrong? What if these values aren’t worth it? What if the hurt he feels when he’s not popular leads him to other, less desirable ends?

I tell you folks, this parenting gig – it’s not for the faint of heart. Especially when you’re trying to change the world at the same time.

Hipsters, generosity, a movie spoiler, and the long road of faith

Warning: This post is the living room conversation that I know will never be, but wish it were. In my ideal world, we would sit in the living room while JJ popped popcorn, enjoy the show, and then discuss afterward. But my sense of reality seems to be growing in my old age, so we’ll settle for me giving some thoughts, you going an watching the movie, and then returning here to agree/disagree/share.

JJ came home the other night with a movie he “thought we’d both enjoy.” It included Ben Stiller, was called While You’re Young and had a sub-plot centered on getting older and having kids. What’s not to love?!

At :45 into the movie, we both hated it. It was slow, we got annoyed with characters, and our expectations were way off. This was not “Meet the Parents” Stiller. This was artsy Stiller (who, btw, shows the depth of his talent) but I was tired and unprepared for the mental work of a thinksy film. Also, there’s an entire scene full of puking and I hate vomit.

By the end, the film redeemed itself. The climax, truth-telling scene pushed me to the back of my seat in awe.

The storyline centered on a middle aged, childless couple who become friends with a young hipster couple in the wake of their best friendship being siderailed by a baby. The hipsters introduce them to other ways of living (“They make everything!” Stiller tries to explain to his SAHD friend) and become saturated with the idea of generosity.

The hipster dude is a budding filmmaker who seeks Stiller’s advice in making a documentary, and – in the spirit of generosity – Stiller helps him. He even offers resources. Along the way, Stiller’s father-in-law, a world renowned documentarian, also gets on board.

Then things get weird. (Enter: puking scene). Distrust for the hipster couple starts to grow. All of a sudden, we’re faced with the fact that not everything we know to be true about the hipster couple is, indeed, true. In fact, there are manipulations to the truth. When Stiller confronts the young filmmaker, he writes it off, appealing to the relativity of truth.

It turns out, the young hipster couple did not live a life of generosity because they believed in world made better by being generous. Generosity appealed to them because of the ways in which it made their life easier. They didn’t do the hard work of life and become generous with its fruits – they simply expected others to do so.

We see this in their approach to friendship. While they invested time into the Stiller couple, they did not do the hard work of honesty, vulnerability and truth-telling. They told the couple what the couple wanted to hear. They weren’t honest with their own beginnings and, in fact, entered into the relationship under false pretenses. But the older couple did do the work. They wrestled. They lost out on other friendships. They were vulnerable with the hipsters in sacred ways.

At the end of the movie, the hipster makes it big with his film. He edited the content in less than 24 hours and held a party/screening. Meanwhile, Stiller returns to sifting through his precious 6 hours of film, tasked with reducing it and maintaining the integrity of the story he wants to tell.

As a person who teeters between the two generations portrayed in the movie, I resonated with all characters at times and became struck with the honesty the movie laid out in front of us. (It was one of those movies that you think “ok, now I can go to bed” when it’s over, and then at 3am you wake up parsing through the subplots. You don’t do that? Oh, never mind. I don’t either.)

I personally spent the last few years intentionally trying to grow in the spirit of generosity. It resonates well with me. Truth-telling – another buzzword of the day – means something in my life. They are grounded in my understanding of God as the source of generosity and in our duty to reveal his nature.

This morning I read (from The Message translation) Matthew 7:13-14:

“Don’t look for shortcuts to God. The market is flooded with surefire, easygoing formulas for a successful life that can be practiced in your spare time. Don’t fall for that stuff, even though crowds of people do. The way to life—to God!—is vigorous and requires total attention.”

I couldn’t help but think of this young hipster couple and their approach to life. How simple it is to wave a flag of ideas like generosity and love and friendship without doing the hard work of weaving them into the fabric of our lives? This young couple wanted the world to live them out so that their own lives could be easier, not for the world to be better. In fact, I wonder if they believed that if their lives were easier than the world would be better. (Ironic, said by the woman who just whined and complained about school forms being an utter inconvenience, eh?)

Despite my highly aware eating habits, I’m not a hipster. I’m not cool. But I was born into an era of convenience – foods, entertainment, and lifestyles. The generation behind me has experienced it at a heightened level. With a change in pace comes effects on our life that I don’t believe have ever been calculated, and I believe they will hold great bearing on the way in which we practice our faith. I can identify and even sympathize with the challenges of accepting a faith that says it requires total attention and a lifetime of vigorous work. Who wants that? We want to do what we love and retire at 40. Following Jesus when it’s hard does not appeal. Loving people who don’t love us has little appeal when they’re mean. “Serving” becomes a noble concept, especially when we’re the ones served, but as another teacher once said, “We love the idea of being a servant until someone starts treating us like one.” Ouch.

At first I felt this movie played with the young generation’s approach and handling of the concept of truth. But for myself, it shed light into our human (not just youthful) propensity to gravitate toward what is easy over what is good. The bootstrap generations ahead of us might be shouting Amen behind me, but I’m not talking about the easy way of working hard for yourself and leaving the rest of the world to fend for itself.

Truly, this doesn’t come down to how many hours you spend at an office (or not) or if you expect people to make your life easy (or not). Life is much more than that. I believe that’s the idea behind Generosity, and more so, the Gospel. We give to the world not in relation with what we have but because we want the world to have it. Not because it’s owed to us.

Spread the jam

Yesterday was pancake morning in our home. We offer a variety of ways to top your ‘cake around here – with or without almond butter, with or without blueberries, and with either jam or syrup. (We have dunking cups for the syrup – no dousers allowed.) With such a smorgasboard, kids have to do a little of the pancake-topping work.

I noticed one particular pancake with a large glob of jam and its owner getting ready to scoop more. I warned her to stop and she protested, “but there’s none on the edges!” I explained, we don’t need more. We just have to put it in the right places. 

That’ll preach.

Moving, buying a house, leaving the work in which I had been engaged, allowing our primary salary to land on a scale considerably less than our former potential… all of this adds up to a bit of money stress. Of course, we willingly took it on, we weren’t blinded. And we’re no different than any other family. No matter the income level, my friends are typically trying to stretch their dollars.

Then one day, I stumbled into a little passage in Deuteronomy 29. “I have led you forty years in the wilderness; your clothes have not worn out on you, and your sandal has not worn out on your foot.”

In the Christian circles, “God will provide” is common language. And he does. I love the stories of the groceries arriving on the doorstep on the exact day or the check appearing in the exact amount. These things happen. The ways in which God is faithful to provide can often be found when we’re stretched to the point of need, rather than want.

This passage, however, tells us of another way that “God provides.” He simply takes away the need. God, being the Creator of the Universe, could have created Shoe Valley, in which the Israelites stumbled into a land of Nikes. (But probably not, because they’re not fair trade, and we know God is not into child labor.) This take on provision would’ve made a killer climax in the Exodus story. People would remember a land full of shoes.

But he didn’t. He simply made last what the people already had. They didn’t get new shoes because he made it possible to not need new shoes.

I have to wonder, especially in our current context, if the long-lasting shoe version of provision might be more applicable than the miraculous appearance provision we often anticipate. God could, indeed, drop a check in my lap. Or an opportunity to make more money. Or a really great sale on back-to-school supplies.

Or I could find that he has allowed our dollars to [miraculously] stretch. We could see God as the source of a smaller income that still pays all the same bills. We might discover the blessing of needing less. 

There are times when the jam doesn’t reach the edge of the pancake. Right now, I’m making sure the jam might not need spread out a bit.

 

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