Category: Uncategorized (Page 35 of 188)

The first and the last

A friend once commented, “there’s something about the child that christens you with the title of mother.” It beautifully expressed this parenting phenomenon. It’s as if we, as parents, are being led through this journey by the first child, exploring the world through these new parent-eyes. All the firsts we encounter via the eldest child mark us; we earn our badges with the first one. 

In that shared experience, we bond differently with our firsts than we do our seconds. Not that any child is more loved; it’s just that you remember your first big failures and successes far easier than you remember the consecutive ones. We bear more scars as we clear the way through the parenting forest the first time. Once the path is established, fewer branches come back to smack us in the face (though, they do exist. And those really knock the wind out of you). 
This entire theory is why I propose everyone should have a 4th baby. It’s not that it gets easier with each child – you just start to know what you’re doing. You spend considerably less time on the lookout, poised for a reaction to something you don’t know is coming at you. 
Instead, by the 4th go, you get to enjoy the ride. Ah yes, the turn is pretty sharp up ahead – better slow down. And here comes that killer hill on the 4th mile: gear up. Here we go. Every kid brings challenges: individual challenges and sometimes different challenges. But as parents we can exert considerably less brain-power figuring out where the road is leading and simply enjoy the journey. When driving through a beautiful countryside but you don’t know where you’re going, you miss the landscape because you’re looking at the map. But once you know the lay of the land, you start to notice the strong, towering trees and the way the sun lingers over the hills. 
So I find myself sitting and holding the baby a bit more than I used to. His early wakings aren’t as draining. If he’s hungry? Feed him. Tired? Nap him. The schedules aren’t as necessary as a guide anymore because my motherhood compass can finally read true north on its own. Those books and ideas served a well-deserved purpose in the early years, but finally I find myself writing my own field guide. 
The inconveniences that used to wear me down from infancy now bring me great joy. Nursing the baby brings a moment to breathe, to stop what I’m doing. I used to want to stab anyone who told me to enjoy those frequent interruptions to the day – don’t they see the size of my to do list? Now I’ve learned it will all get done. Dinner will be served, even if out of a cardboard box. 
So here’s to the 4th. Perhaps other parents learn this lesson by the second time around, or the third. A supremely select group of individuals exist that make fantastic first/only time parents and I try not to look at them with envious disdain. I just seem to require a bit more repetition to learn the lesson. 

When everyone is not the competition: thoughts on #peacemaking

While I was busy over the summer having a baby, my town prepared for an influx of thousands of people as the Gentlemen of the Road music festival seized it. One of my clients sat poised to make the most profit in a singular weekend in the history of their 10+ year business. As much as I tried to be useful and effective, I was not the person to make their dreams come true. 

So their resource for building websites and creating their print marketing materials worked with them to re-image and re-brand and position them for the big weekend. Part of this included an element of what I had been providing to them for nearly a year in terms of social support. 
At first I was hurt. And a bit scared. And self-conscious. Were they not happy? Did they not believe in me? But I took myself out of the equation and realized: they needed something I could not provide. So they found it. Actually, it had a lot less to do with me than I believed it to be. 
I met the woman who had helped them with the big campaign. It would have been easy to cast her the villain, the competition, to play the “I can do anything you can do better” game. But I decided that she wasn’t the competition. She was someone doing her job, and doing it well. She was a partner in making one of my clients very successful. Of course our skills overlap, but I don’t do a large chunk of what she does. And she doesn’t do what I do at the ground level. We’re the same. But we’re not. 
When I took this other woman out of the role of the adversary, I suddenly lived with a much greater sense of peace. I didn’t hide my head to the fact that my clients could decide to cut my services to use her, but I realized it’s because she has something to offer that I don’t (namely, photography and website building). She’s not the enemy, she’s simply doing a good job.  
I began to wonder what it would look like if we stopped assuming that everyone was the competition. I know all the business-driven people will object to my line of thinking, but I don’t really come to the world with an eye for business, but rather an eye for the holy. I need to make a living, but that’s not my purpose, so it’s not what drives me. (My husband and my father probably just face-palmed to that one. Sorry.)
I mean it. What if we stopped looking at everyone as competition and began to appreciate what they had to offer? When this woman began to be the person building my clients a beautiful website and providing beautiful photographs, then we were suddenly partners in building and serving a client. The greater good was served. 
Today of all days begs me to ask what it means to be a peacemaker. How do we seek peace? As we reflect on our feelings of being attacked while we (as a country) contemplate action in Syria and beg for peace and other alternatives, I have to wonder at a much deeper level what it means to seek peace in my life and in the world. 
 
I don’t believe seeking peace means falsely admitting wrongs. I don’t believe it means “taking it” like a pansy. I also don’t believe it means living poised for retaliation, ready to defend any and all wrongs for the sake of being right. 
The more I think about it, I believe it means living in a posture that sees people – all people, even those we disagree with and don’t enjoy – as people. Humans. Who are trying to do the best with what they have. Humans who, like myself, aren’t perfect. And maybe in their imperfection, they too forgot to see me as human. 
We forget that, at the root of it all, she or he is made from the same dust. We spin around on a shared orb, needing the same sun and moon to shine to keep us alive. We don’t have to assume someone else’s success and good fortune came at the cost of my own; at the same time, we need to live in question if our own good fortune is coming at the cost of someone else. We don’t have to live in competition with everyone we meet. 
So what does this look like? Not just in foreign relations politics, not just in business, but in our daily lives? It means realizing my husband had a tough day at work while I served the homefront. It’s not a competition for who had the tougher day. It’s realizing Miss M isn’t trying to be difficult, she just feels sick. It’s seeing the well-dressed and beautiful moms at preschool pick up and not deciding that they have it all together, that their finances are in order and they would get the asking price on their house while I pull my sick kids away from the TV and put them in the car in their pajamas because it’s the only means of functioning. It means not assuming the buyers on our house won’t bargain because they want to take advantage of us. 
I think peacemaking means giving what I need the most: just a little bit of grace to make it through this moment. 
***
It’s obvious what kind of life develops out of trying to get your own way all the time: repetitive, loveless, cheap sex; a stinking accumulations of mental and emotional garbage; frenzied and joyless grabs for happiness; trinket gods; magic show religion; paranoid loneliness; cutthroat competition; all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants; a brutal temper; an impotence to love or be loved; divided homes and divided lives; small-minded and lopsided pursuits; the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into  a rival; uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions; ugly parodies of community. I could go on. 

But what happens when we live God’s way? he brings gifts into our lives, much the same way fruit appears in an orchard – things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely. 
Galatians 5:19-23, The Message

Level 3 Thinking

I’m newly addicted to writer G over at Momastery (I know, I’m slow to the game. It’s like skinny jeans. I refused to join in when I saw it was popular to see if it was a fad or not;  now that it’s a staple, I feel like I’m finally part of the cool crowd again). So, now that G and I have reached some sort of “where have you been all my life” moment, of course she revolutionized my way of thinking. 

This post on the 3 levels has resurfaced in my thoughts time and time again. While I realized that the way people spoke about things and people tends to reveal a bit about both their character, I had not given it full range of motion in to maturity. But G’s therapist, to whom I now feel I owe a co-pay, hits it on the head. Some people never move out of Level 2 thinking. But those that I love to be around: all 3s. I just don’t have the energy for 2’s like I used to. 
I began to think not only about myself (and general lack of maturity based on this evaluation), but also how it applied to my spiritual self. I see the development of individuals as they navigate the course of faith-life looking similar. After the newness, the initial mountain-top, we hit a valley and allllll is wronnnnnng. With everything. Excuse me for a brief panic attack as I mentally re-live my 20s. 
But then the good ones coast into Level 3. When you can brush off all the shortcomings. The little old ladies who were previously so “out of touch” and “overprotective of their social meetings” are suddenly retired warriors from battles you’re currently fighting. 
I believe I’m starting to come into Level 3 thinking, at least in terms of my faith life. Goodness lies at the heart all of these efforts, of that I’m confident. 
Just don’t ask me to take the same position about things like Walmart, Big Pharma or Monsanto. I’m still in process. 
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