A Change is Gonna Come

"What's the point?"

I’ve been struggling a lot lately with that feeling in regards to politics. We are SO divided as a nation, with people DEEPLY entrenched in their views on either side. There is a lot of talking (actually- yelling) little listening, and seemingly no budging. So what’s the point? Why bother debating, correcting, convincing, educating, campaigning, protesting...flag-flying, sign-posting, petition-signing, IG story-sharing, or truth-seeking if everyone is already set in their beliefs/decisions/party lines?

What’s the point in discussing all of this with my Trump-supporting friends or family if they’re not going to change? Is it worth it? To risk awkwardness, or hurt, or even a severed relationship when no change in opinion is likely to come anyway? What’s the point in even voting if my vote is just going to get cancelled out by my MAGA hat wearing neighbor, my ultra-conservative cousin, or outnumbered by groups I’m technically a part of but shockingly unaligned with (hey there: evangelical Christians and suburban white women!)?

How much do I want to “make this a thing”? How much does it matter? How much should I speak up? How much should I risk? How much do I think I can change? 

I honestly don’t know. But a quote I saw recently might hold part of the answer. “I don’t do this to change the country. I do this so the country won’t change me.” 

So when the controversies flare up, the alliances dig in deeper, the dividing lines are put on display...I may not change her mind, or his mind, or your mind...but I can fight to be unchanged by a world I don’t agree with. And that is HARD. It’s COMPLICATED. It's a flip-your-brain-inside-out kind of struggle, dealing with the cognitive dissonance of it all, trying to understand what's true, what matters, how does it fit, what does it mean, what should I do, who am I, and who do I want to be...

 

Who I am (in my very core, at my very best) is a Jesus-following, family-loving, friend-supporting, people-championing, everyone-accepting person. I won’t give any of that up for any candidate, policy or party. But I also absolutely won’t compromise any of that by supporting, condoning, or ignoring systems, rhetoric, or people who promote hate.

 

And that all sounds just fine and good, and fairly politically-agnostic. Because in the end, we're all just good people trying to do good things, right? 

 

Well...let me say this as clearly as I‘m able to now, at the risk of offending, or being misunderstood, or accused of hypocrisy...

I do not support President Trump. I will not vote for him. And I have some serious concerns and questions about people who do and will. Yes- even people I wholeheartedly love. Actually, ESPECIALLY those people. I want to love unconditionally, I want to fully trust that relationships are bigger than politics, and know that everyday actions mean more than one box we check every four years. But I also deeply struggle with understanding how a leader of such profoundly and obviously flawed character could be endorsed by anyone who professes to value the same things I do. 

And let me also say:

I will love you no matter who you vote for. But please don't make me prove it! (Kidding. Kind of!)

 

I'll say it again because I need to repeat it confidently as I simultaneously start the hard work of meaning it: I will love you no matter who you vote for.

 

But I ask you to consider what your vote demonstrates to those around you. What does it say to your daughters? What does it say to your Black friends? Your gay coworker? Your classmate with a disability? Your immigrant neighbor? (OH how this list could go on...) What does it say you care about? And who does it say you DON’T care about?

 

And here- let me be explicit: If you vote for Trump, can you look at my kids...my white, Black, male and female children of yet-to-be-determined ability, status or sexual orientation...and proudly tell them who you voted for? Knowing all that you know. Witnessing all that you've seen and heard. Can you tell them what your vote means? What your yard sign is about? Who and what exactly you are putting your social, emotional, and monetary trust and support behind? Can you rationalize enough? Explain enough? Overlook enough? Cost-benefit analyze enough? Will any amount of party-loyalty or tax break incentives be enough to back that choice?

I am a broken, flawed, mess in progress, now, this November and always. I will change in innumerable ways between now and this November and the end of my life. My circumstances, my opinions, my approach (and my hairstyle!) could all be radically different over time as I pursue continual growth. I’m not afraid of that change. I’m not ashamed of progress that reveals contradictions. I will not confuse healthy conviction to core ideals with a stubborn grasp on temporal things. I will be changed in many ways, but I will be vigilant in what things I allow to change me. 

I will hold fast to the example Jesus set, and my responsibility to do what’s right.

I will pray for the bravery to speak up for others, stand up to harm, and risk my own comfort for broader gain.

I will vote for Joe Biden.

And I will hope for the very, very best kind of change for us all.

 

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Unexpected

On two separate occasions within the last month, someone has accused me of being pregnant. Not asked if I was pregnant...actually put an assertion out there, seeking immediate and public confirmation. “You’re pregnant!..You must be!...I knew it!” And then, after hearing my denial, they followed up with an even more emphatic, “Yeah right…You’re pregnant.”

 And what did I do to earn this line of “questioning”? I drank a sparkling water at a party when everyone else had wine. That’s it. That’s all it took for my reproductive status to be put on blast. (Well, that, and maaaaaaaybe that I looked a little chubby in my outfit that day but I’m not really interested in entertaining that explanation).

On one hand, I understand the curiosity. I understand that it potentially comes from an excited, eager-to-celebrate kind of place. But on the other hand: no thank you. No thank you to the questions and the pressure and the expectations and the feelings and the justifications that come with a personal question forced on me in a public setting.

Maybe I am pregnant. Maybe I’m not. Maybe I wish I was. Maybe I don’t want to be. Maybe I used to be. Maybe I can’t be.

Maybe I’m doing a cleanse. Maybe I have a drinking problem. Maybe I ate too many tacos. Maybe I’m wearing an unflattering jumpsuit. 

Maybe it’s complicated. Maybe it’s sensitive. Maybe it’s not. But you don’t know. You don’t know how your comment might make me feel. You don’t know how I might hear it based on a thousand other things that you don't know. Slapping a presumption on me...especially in front of others, forcing me to process my thoughts with an audience isn't fair.

Please though...care about me. Take an interest in me. Ask me questions. I'm about as open as they come, and live to dive deep with people. So by all means...

Let's talk about babies, and how they're the most lovely version of impossible.
Let's talk about fertility and infertility, and how we had no idea how nuanced and miraculous and heart-wrenching it all can be.
Let's talk about balance and other such unicorns.
Let's talk about motherhood, and how it breaks your heart a thousand times and puts it back together in a way you didn't know was possible.
Let's talk about self-worth, self-care, and self-love, and how to cultivate them in all of our circumstances.
Let's talk about opposites living inside of a single body and soul; how you can want and not want something at the same exact time; how you can feel anxious and hopeful, terrified and ecstatic, longing and fulfilled.

Let's talk about all of it. Maybe with some sodas, after the party.

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Why I'm never busy

Hey. How are you?
"Good."
"Fine."
"Busy."


Is that you? Are you guilty of giving the lamest set of answers to the world's most common question? 

(I am.)

Good. Fine. Busy. Those words don't even mean anything, really. They're shorthand for: "I'm acknowledging your question, while realizing you probably aren't really looking to get into a deep conversation about my actual well being. So I will let you off the hook with a one word response and a small nod, and we can both be on our way. I am so very busy after all."

And sure, we all know that 99 out of 100 (ok...or at least 9 out of 10) times someone asks that question, they actually don't want to get into a deep conversation about your actual well being. "How are you?" is often no different than "What's new?", "Hot enough for ya?", or "How 'baht dem Stillers?" They're just things we say to fill the space, to pass the time, to keep things light.

And I can actually pretty much get behind Good. And Fine. But busy? 

C'mon. That's a cop out. It's like a pity wave mixed with humble brag, doused in obvious sauce (which I think is like metaphorical ketchup?) 

You're busy. So busy. Swamped. Crazed. Full plates. Spinning plates. Wearing all the hats. 

We get it.

But we get it, because we're living it too. We're all busy. Even people who are totally not even busy.

Have you ever, EVER asked someone: "How's it goin'?"And had them respond: "Eh, good. Kind of bored. Like, swimming in free time. It's surprisingly unsettling, actually. But you know what they say: So much time, so little to do!" ?

I'm gonna go with nope. You haven't.

Because for real. Everyone is busy. Even those people you constantly compare yourself to, thinking smugly, "They think they're busy....Ha! I could rock their busy like a second shift. I'd kill for their busy. They'd be real sorry if they ever even glimpsed at my busy. My busy would kick their busy's tail feathers." (That's Christian mommy-blogger for a**).

Busy is a badge of honor. It's a claim to fame. It's a justification of our own importance. Busy is the opposite of lazy, of unpopular, and boring. Busy is productive, and in-demand, and Amurican.

...and it's a bit of a self-involved martyr.

So can we just cool it with the busy?

No, I'm not suggesting your new default answer becomes #soblessed. (even if that's like, totes true). I just think that when asked how we're doing, we can all muster up a teensy bit of honesty, or even creativity, and look beyond the low-hanging "get out of this convo free" fruit of busy.

image pinned via Jenn Gietzen 

So, how are YOU? 

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Blah.

As I adjust to being 26 (by the way...I refuse to believe that is late twenties...I hold on to MID-twenties as long as possible) I’ve realized it’s not that different from being 25.....or 5. Sure, I have a lot of grown up things (a house, a job, a husband) but I don’t always have the grown up attitude to go with it. Last week after a bad day, I pretty much threw a tantrum. I refrained from throwing myself on the ground and stomping my feet, but I did cry more than a few tears while I repeated “it’s not fair” for longer than was appropriate. As is usually the case when emotions hit the fan, the events leading up to the meltdown weren’t catastrophic (or even particularly awful), but for some reason, in that moment it was all my little brain could do. I didn’t want to be reasoned with, I didn’t want to problem solve, I didn’t want to have perspective. I wanted to pout and wallow in my self righteous anger. Real mature like.

All that said, it’s not even the real point to my story. No, if you can believe it, there are more child-like antics to be discussed. For after exhausting my “not-fair!” tirade, yesterday I switched to a new mantra: “I’m bored.” As any mother can attest (and even child-less people like myself realize), that is one of the most child-ish, frustrating phrases one can utter. I had been struggling all day, and finally climbed in to bed last night and said it, “Dustin....I’m boooooooored!” (I find that dragging out the word gets my point across better). He was none-too-sympathetic, telling me he didn’t care and he was going to sleep. I think he thought I was the “let’s play dominos” type of bored, not the “I need more excitement in my hum-drum little life” kind. But even though it was the latter, it was not a topic that would be solved at 11pm, so to sleep we went.

And though my whiney voice has faded, I am still left with the same feeling. I am, in fact, bored.Now, I understand this is one of those “First world problems”- people with real issues don’t bemoan something as simple, harmless or fleeting as boredom, but nonetheless, it’s how I feel. I have great friends, a fun job, plenty of activities, but I find myself longing for something NEW. Something exciting. Something out of the ordinary. I think some of it has to do with the season. It’s been a long, bleak February (and January really), and I can’t quite see the light at the end of the tunnel. I suspect I have cabin fever.

So I’ve been trying to self soothe, without doing anything too rash. (I desperately want a dog, but Dustin doesn’t want to take the plunge until my clouded vision is cleared by time, and perhaps some sun. Smart man.) We’ve been making weekend plans, trying to cook and workout more, and check out fun area activities, but none of it is sucking me out of my doldrums.
(Side note: Does anyone else remember “The Phantom Tollboth”? It describes the doldrums as a colorless place where thinking and laughing are not allowed. More depressing than that though- even the fictional character was able to discern that that if he is bored, it is only because he is boring. Yikes.)

Have any of you come down with a case of the winter blahs? How do you pick yourself up out of the mopes? I’m pretty sure the answer is “stop being such a baby”, but other, more constructive ideas would be appreciated.

Stuck

I feel like I’m in a rut. I’m a planner by nature, but it seems recently that things are getting a little too scheduled, even for me. There is that pesky job thing, of course, but there isn’t really a way around that (barring a Powerball win?) Beyond that though, we have Young Life twice a week, plus bi-weekly leadership meetings, not to mention assorted parent or committee type meetings. That level of commitment, while undeniably rewarding, is a bit daunting in its volume. Additionally, Tuesdays are our weekly hangouts with friends, and our marriage group is every other Thursday. I know these are all optional events, and I truly wouldn't trade these gatherings for anything, but at the same time, it's a bit daunting to know that everyday has an assigned activity. Furthering the feeling of being trapped in the grind are the mundane necessities of daily life: commute, errands, laundry, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, bills, etc. etc. etc. ad nauseum.

I don’t mean to imply that I don’t have any free time; that’s just not true. Weekends are typically free from regular “gigs” (although they seem to get booked up faster than I would sometimes prefer) and I realize my list of “must-see” TV probably eats up more hours than I’d like to admit. The trouble seems that we are on a frantic weekday pace of go-go-go, so when we finally have a chunk of un-calendared time, it’s used for recovery, rather than rejuvenation (a subtle, but important difference in my mind). We crash on the couch, shut our brains off and rely on the internet or cable movie channels to erase the stress of the week. Guess how well that works....

We do try to take advantage of our free time, but all too often, it is self defeating as even our “fun plans” are still plans. Activities I enjoy lose their joy when they become just as obligatory as tasks I abhor.

In the never-ending sea of calendar commitments, and daily chores, I’m craving SPONTANEITY. Freedom, whimsy, play. In attempt to express my vague swirling thoughts, I turned to The (brilliant and addicting) Visual Thesaurus for some wordy-guidance, and it didn’t disappoint. http://www.visualthesaurus.com/

How I’m feeling:

What I long to be:

Soooooo, where to from here? My typical m.o. of forming action points seems a little counter-productive to the whole freedom thing. I realize it's less about what I do, and more about how I approach things. Cliche ideas of remembering to appreciate the little things, and to stop and smell the roses are starting to ring true in my heart, but how do I get there? If it were easy or natural for me, I'd already be doing it. I'm a person that loves to plan and wants to do it all, but then conversely gets overwhelmed and feels trapped by my own forces. I hate chaos, but feel restricted by order. I long to be carefree, but my innate need for a plan keeps me tethered. Where is the balancing point? How do I reconcile opposite, but equal sides of my personality?

(those of you Type A people cringing that I ended this post with a question, neglecting to tie up the issue with a metaphorical bow....I feel your pain. The orderly side of me compromised and at least gave you this footnote. That's the best my scatterbrained side would allow.)

G-E-L-L-O

I was very resistant to getting on board the "gmail train". Or I wasn't cool enough to get invited. One of the two....

But now I'm one of the masses with the formerly exclusive email addresses. And let me just say, that I love gmail. I like how it organizes stuff, remembers my friends names, and has silly branded monikers like "gchat". It's like this cool friend that handles all your business, and makes you smile. But recently I get the feeling that gmail is getting a little to personal with me.

Have you noticed the little ads at the top of your inbox? Little suggestions of places you might want to check out? I like to feel like Gmail knows me. He just wants to share his wealth of knowledge with me. But sometimes his suggestions are eerily similar to messages I've sent. Makes me wonder if I can trust Gmail. Is he snooping through my things? What else don't I know about?

Well, today after sending an innocent note to a friend, I get this:

That's right: A link to http://www.twistnshot.com/

Don't judge me Gmail! I didn't even mention drinking! And besides, that jello shot party was over a year ago, and it was for the CHILDREN! (wait...not like that, it was charity...oh nevermind).

I don't know who Gmail thinks he is. We are SO on a break.