So, ugh, remember how I said one of my goals for 2011 was to complete the first chapter of my novel? And then remember how we bought a house and I got pregnant and I stopped writing altogether? Well, I just did something crazy to remedy this little predicament: I signed up for national novel writing month. This participation dictates that I write an entire novel in November. Yessiree, starting November 1 I will attempt to write 50,000 words in 30 days. And if I only get a first chapter out of the exercise? Golden.
I realized this week that although I'm incredibly happy from the outside-in, I've lost my way in how to be happy from the inside-out. Being in the trenches 24/7 with a toddler has wrecked havoc on my self esteem; having very little control over the outcome of anything in my day has begun to make me feel invisible. I need to do something completely for me as I close out this year. I'm the only one responsible for that journey and I'm hopeful that this commitment will force me to look fear and failure in the face. Stop thinking about the damn story and write it!
In 1998, to supplement my sporadic film production work, I picked up a few gigs as a substitute teacher at a private school. I had no idea how mesmerized I would be by the honesty and moxie of the girls in middle school. I had heard that girls at that age were horrible, but I was smitten. It seemed clear to me that they sat at the nexus of change for our society; that within their emerging womanhood they held the real solution to all of our problems. There was a light unfiltered, and a story unfolding, that felt like a glimpse into possibility. Perhaps 'horrible' was the dark side of possibility unexpressed, muted, ignored.
Five years later, as a part of my graduate studies, I wrote:
I believe that a girl’s experience provides a mirror on our culture’s desires and downfalls ... In Action Learning: A Holographic Metaphor for Guiding Social Change it states, “A hologram is a photograph, taken with a lens-less camera, where the whole is represented in all the parts. If the hologram is broken, any piece of it can be used to reconstruct the entire image. Everything is in everything else; just as if we are able to throw a pebble into a pond and see the whole pond and all the waves, ripples, and drops of water generated by the splash in each and every one of the drops of water thus produced..." And indeed, what might we learn if we used the two entities, the larger cultural self and the individual self of the girl, to reflect back to each other the present we are fulfilling and the future we are attempting to create. I want to explore the current literature and research available about the development of girls because I think we can illuminate a broader perspective in which to view current culture by seeing girls as a holographic metaphor. By establishing a foundation for healthier women we would in turn be creating a healthier society, and vice versa.
I spent my time in graduate school focusing this belief by mentoring middle school girls, starting a nonprofit to support high school girls, and reading and writing about how girls are affected by government decisions and media blitz and how they can create change for society.
As I transitioned into my role as a grantmaker I realized the power philanthropy held in this conversation. I witnessed how philanthropy targeted to the needs of women could unlock many of the social problems we faced in our community. The nasty problems, the ones without an easy solution, the ones that are so inextricably linked to everything else that it seems like untangling a rats nest of necklaces. Hunger, homelessness, child abuse … all of these things had a similar leverage point. Get to the young woman, give her an education, a sense of self worth, the opportunity to make choices about childbearing and partnering, a chance to give back to her community, and you see a ripple of change take hold in her family tree. The facts are clear and the studies continue to support this belief. The exciting bit here is that there are now numerous opportunities for philanthropists of all abilities to get involved and make an investment in the revolution.
I am proud to support The Girl Effect. Ridiculous to think it could be this easy, and yet, the message resonates so deeply in my bones as a known truth it feels like something rustling in the wind from long ago.
Watch the video. Consider making a donation. Join the revolution.
Oh, and if after watching that video you're inspired to write your own response to the girl effect, you can do so for the rest of this week and be included in the 2011 Girl Effect Blogging Campaign (where you'll get linked in with all the other bloggers writing about it this week) Be a part of the movement!
I went to a talk last week given by Bill Grace, the founder of The Center for Ethical Leadership. I’ve had contact with this group before, having worked with them on the Youth Against Violence initiative a couple of years ago (which I wrote about here), but I’ve never had a chance to meet Bill or hear him speak. It was an interesting evening, a discussion of ethical leadership and the need for individuals to access their core values in order to guide their personal journey into leadership. Toward the end of the evening Bill led us through an exercise that would highlight these values for each of us. From a list of 20-30 words we were asked to select the top 10 that resonated for us. From there we had to narrow to 5, then 3. The list I ended up with surprised me. It was late in the evening; I was tired and didn’t want to think too much about the exercise … which is probably the best way to tackle it. I just went with my initial gut, even when my gut was like, “ugh, joy? really? joy is one of your top 3 values? so soft” Yet when I put the 3 values together I was able to see a complete picture of who I am; they created the space in which I set my passions. Between these three words I can weave all sorts of stories and past histories and personal challenges.
Joy embodies all that makes life beautiful. It carries the spirit of thanks and gratitude, an expression of creation and fulfillment. Joy brings the circle around to completion; it is an act of appreciation and awe. I think of the song we sing as we exit mass on Christmas eve, Joy to the world … let heaven and nature sing. Being joyful comes so naturally in children and it’s something to emulate as adults. When my son is joyful, which he was this morning as we walked to school, he skips and sings and twirls around. He runs up to the other kids and giggles and says ‘oh hi!’ He is the first at the door waiting for the teacher and runs up the steps, pulling his jacket off as he goes. Witnessing joy is contagious. It holds within itself peace and grace and all things that make life good.
Integrity is something I certainly value but it never occurred to me that it was one of my values. Are my words aligned with my actions? Are my thoughts aligned with my true self? When I am in sync with myself, aligned from the inside out, all systems are go. I can feel this buzzing that resonates with the world around me. It’s like the barrier of my skin no longer keeps me separate from everything else; there is a merging with my environment that feels like prayer. These moments are strung out along the timeline of my life, certainly not a constant state of being. Maintaining that kind of integrity is a challenge, but I like to think it’s a spectrum, with the hovering, buzzing days as the pinnacle of enlightenment. This isn’t a place you can live, but you can strive for it every day.
Truth really struck me as an odd choice as a value because I don’t believe in an absolute truth. Placing truth as a value seems like a slippery slope. I don’t believe there is one right answer and some of us have it and others just need to be brought around. I think of truth as a splintered prism of light: we each have a piece of it and together these truths create a framework of humanity. Being aware of your own truth and being true to yourself takes a lot of courage. Speaking your truth, being authentic and living with intention is another value I struggle with and try to bring into being every day. “I hold these truths to be self evident” is the same as saying This I Believe, which is really a challenge to illuminate your values. A full circle, again. It’s liberating when you look at the core of what you hold as truth in your heart. And once you’ve arrived at that place, it is divine to begin living it, speaking it, and acting on it.
So after writing all this down and puttering about in the space created between these values, a friend sent me the following video of Brene Brown (whom I’ve also written about here before). I just found it to be such lovely timing, to hear from Brene directly about vulnerability and see some of the same values highlighted in her research findings. What strikes me about all of this, particularly in rereading the posts I highlight here, is that I *know* this. I am saying the same things over and over again. What will it take for me to move my voice outward and begin the journey?
Install hardwood on main floor. Move refrigerator, dishwasher and stove into kitchen. Hook up washer and dryer.
Lay carpet upstairs. Begin to unpack and put away clothes and toiletries.
Make several trips to IKEA and Home Depot. Install new light fixtures and find ways to organize in our new space.
Finally get the internet connected.
Get the previous owners to come back and remove their broken down van and hot tub from the backyard.
Celebrate Slade's birthday. Celebrate father's day. Celebrate my birthday.
Meet our new neighbors at a summer kickoff bbq and set up playdates with the kids across the street.
Find and visit our new pediatrician.
Step into the VP board position at ArtsEd Washington.
Set up a date night to see Titanic at Roosevelt High School.
Bring in all remaining furniture from the garage.
Enroll Liam in a co-op preschool down the street.
These things all happened in the first 2 months of living here. We were rockin'. We were on the cusp of getting this place whipped into shape and I was enjoying feeling settled in after 3 months of packing, renovating and moving.
And then Fourth of July weekend: I take a pregnancy test and the universe stops moving. I proceed to spend the next 10 weeks in my pajamas, eating crackers and napping 3 hours a day while caring for an increasingly energetic 2 year old and moaning about how much I hate being pregnant (i really hate being pregnant and all i could find to be thankful for was that this is the last time i will be pregnant)
This week it started to rain. I couldn't be happier. I pulled out our boots and fleece jackets. Summer is over and I'm not puking anymore. Fall is good. I am thankful for Fall.
Let me throw my most prized possession into the middle of a lake so I’ll always know where it is. Let me know that things will only be meaningful in my mind and my heart, not in my hand.
Last week my sister and I traveled back to Montana to spend Memorial Weekend with my 90 year old grandparents. The whole family went back, a planned visit when we could all be there, in order to go through their house and divvy up ‘stuff’ in preparation for their move to an assisted living facility. Problem was, Grandfather is in early stage dementia and had forgotten he’d planned this weekend, so we arrived like vultures picking meat off of the bones of a still living animal. He became sullen and angry, my mother got into an argument with her mother that ended with both of them in tears and my grandmother storming into her room and locking her door. Delightful. Meanwhile, the rest of us got into the scotch and watched Liam ride a cane around the house like a wooden horsey.
Let me remember as I age to begin parting with cherished items as I go: to children and grandchildren, my jewelry, my plates, and to friends and neighbors, shoes that don’t fit, handbags no longer necessary. Let me remember not to place too much importance on the material item. My mother just said to me today that her sister is getting all of the items that had belonged to Uncle Carl. She said, ‘Uncle Carl was just my favorite. He was grandmother’s favorite brother and I just loved him. He was my favorite. And I’m not going to get anything of his to remind me of him”. So without the ‘stuff’ (that she's never owned or had in her own home to see every day) she won’t be able to remember him? It becomes more competition between siblings, more proof of favoritism, more fodder for hurt feelings. There’s this little voice inside saying, “I want it I want it I want it” which sounds childish and feels wronged. I experienced it while I was there. I could feel the pull of the undercurrent, taunting me that I wasn’t going to get anything if I didn’t speak up. I took some time to walk through the house looking at everything with the eyes of wanting and I could see a few things that I wouldn’t mind having. But I also felt the deep pain of a losing game : as soon as I became invested in wanting something I was setting myself up for getting hurt by not getting it. I started repeating in my head, ‘I have everything I need already. I am so lucky. I have everything I need and more already.’
Much easier in theory than practice, but practice will help. After these visits with my grandparents I become absorbed with thoughts of how to age gracefully; how to let go of the things I could once do, the things I once had, while watching the younger ones soar into the height of their energy and success. How do I cultivate joy in passing the baton to the next generation? How can I be more like Maude?
I'm stepping away from my goal of posting once a week, just for awhile.
We bought the hoarder house and are in demo and renovation mode.
Here's what the living room looked like when we got the keys on Tuesday:
And here's what it looked like 4 days later:
No doors, no floors, no railings. There is a hole in the master bedroom floor into the kitchen and the french doors in the master bedroom have been pulled out. We have drywall guys and painter guys and carpeting guys and furnace guys all coming around to give quotes ... we have a large hole in the hallway closet, pictured above, that is filled with rat poop. We have 2.5 weeks to move in. That's right, 2.5 weeks before we hand over our current house keys to the new tenant.
Beyond the fear and stress of the house though, I have to say I am more and more excited about the new neighborhood. It was a beautiful afternoon yesterday, all the cherry blossom trees were dropping pink petals and kids were running out to meet Liam. Neighbors were streaming over to greet us and tell us how great the block is and how happy they are to see us. I keep telling myself "you can fix the house, you can't fix the neighborhood", and I think we lucked out. Right now I'm busy researching stair railings and packing up the house, so blogging will either be an afterthought or a place to document some of this change. I'll be back later this Spring/early Summer!
She told me she didn't eat meat for 14 years and found there was a cumulative effect of poor health, nothing she noticed right away or on its own.
She urged me to think about how the human body is built, that our teeth and digestive systems are designed to eat flesh.
She pointed out that there are benefits from meat, occasionally and in small amounts, that we can't get from other sources.
She also talked with me about the climate we live in, and during these cold, wet months our bodies need to eat warmth in order to flourish.
She provided me with a hand out, told me it was of course my decision, but she'd been down this path and really felt I should reconsider.
So, here I am, in limbo. Once you make the statement "I don't think meat will ever be a part of my diet again", whaddya do? It's not that I haven't had meat at all. There were some occasions over the holidays, a little turkey here, a little pot roast there. I didn't claim to be a strict vegetarian, but I was making more intentional choices around consuming meat, and for me that meant little to none.
I suppose, on a very basic level, I’m struggling with death and my contribution to the cycle of life. When I say that not eating meat allows me to feel that “I'm living my convictions, eating with empathy and thoughtfulness", I’m talking about honoring life. I'm grappling with whether its true that being of the human race makes me a carnivore. I do know that by just being alive I’ve benefited from death, ashes to ashes and all that.
Many themes of death and renewal for me right now, appropriately in the midst of Lent. The discussion of death always bring me back to evaluating ritual and prayer in my life. I'm still not sold on eating much, if any, meat, but I can at least make a re-commitment to ritual and prayer: if something died in order that I should live, I give thanks.
