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Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

happy new year

Waking Up is Hard to Do

December 17, 2018

I’m a bit of a daydreamer. Something I’m learning about myself is how much I live inside my head, so much so that I often don’t notice things the first time. (On the flip side, I can be scarily observant, picking up on feelings and seeing needs without anything being spoken.) I can sit with myself and have entire conversations in my mind. I can imagine scenarios for every circumstance I’m facing. Sometimes I’m just replaying a movie I’ve seen or a book I’ve read, letting the images come to life inside my brain.

It is, like most attributes, a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I’m a writer, a curse because I’ve been known to zone out in conversations or while driving. Sometimes there are so many things on my mind that I can’t see what’s right in front of me.

It’s a great coping mechanism when I don’t want to face reality but when reality is ignored for too long, all kinds of problems follow. Sticking my head in the sand has left me exposed and vulnerable, even though it seems like my problems disappear. (I can’t see you; you can’t see me.)

This is why it was so important to me that I choose a word for 2018 that counteracted my natural tendencies. (It is reflected in previous words for the year like “enjoy” and “present.” But those did not really go far enough for this time in my life.)

This is what I said about the choice in January: 

My word for this year was “Awake.”

“I am waking up to myself, my needs, my abilities. I am waking up to the world around me. I am waking up to the ways my upbringing was different than those in other parts of the country. I am waking up to the realities of life. I am vowing to live with my eyes open, to not turn away when what I see is too hard/messy/brutal. (And also to not turn away when it is too lovely/sparkly/beautiful. I have a problem seeing that, too.)

“I want to live this life intentionally, not drifting along waiting for something to happen to me. (This is mostly a work-related vow. I will write more about this later.) I am a daydreamer by nature and if I’m looking at you, sometimes I’m not seeing you at all. I’m living a story I’ve made up in my head or thinking about a conversation I had last year. It’s going to be hard work for me to recognize this as it’s happening and pull myself out of it to be fully engaged with the person right in front of me.”

It is now December, and I have not written a single word about this journey this year. Maybe that’s not exactly true. Maybe I have written about it in different ways. 

This was a year of waking up and taking action. Of conscious choices and decisions instead of going with the circumstantial flow.

Late last year, I wrestled with the idea of going to work part time outside my house. I had gotten myself into a comfortable rhythm of writing and coffee dates and whole days of “freedom” but we were struggling financially and I was struggling emotionally more than I knew. After a gentle kick-in-the-pants by friends and husband, I started a job in January that I was nervous about at first but learned quickly was the perfect fit for me. I love it. And it has forced my eyes wide open. I still miss the “freedom” of having an entire day to myself, and I can’t keep up with the housework all the time (but this has initiated more family involvement in keeping the house clean) but overall, I am more productive and less likely to procrastinate and feeling more purposeful than I ever was staying home all day. 

In May I turned 40 and I embraced it by starting a list of things I no longer wanted to say “someday” about. It’s not a bucket list nor is there a deadline to finish the list by the time I’m done with my 40s or anything like that. It’s just a way for me to catalog what’s important enough to stop dreaming about and start acting toward. On the list are races I’d like to run (more about that later), writing goals, travel destinations, and ways to express and establish my identity. It’s a working list both in the fact that it’s always under in progress and I’m continually working on something on the list. Throughout the year,  I took risks on my after 40 list: playing guitar in church, doing a Whole30 eating plan, scheduling family photos taken by a professional, entering writing contests.

I released myself from counseling. This, too, needed a prompt from my therapist. We had gotten to the point where I wasn’t talking about one major struggle anymore but giving a positive report about a variety of things. At her suggestion, I considered whether I was ready to step away from these monthly appointments I’d had for almost three years, and even though it’s scary sometimes to consider whether you’re ready to tackle life without an arm of support you’ve been leaning on, I did think I was ready. I considered it my first birthday gift of the year.

I committed to running two times a week. I ran in the rain and cold and on the beach in Florida when I thought the humidity might choke me. I ran a 5K on Thanksgiving morning when temperatures were frigid, and I ran the whole thing without anyone coaching me to keep going.

I said what I was thinking, even when it didn’t come out the way I wanted. Relationships survived. (This has been and is still a major fear of mine: that expressing my opinion and thoughts will damage relationships.) One of these conversations happened on a family vacation, and I remember all the times I’ve held my tongue because I didn’t want to rock the boat. I still don’t want to rock the boat, but my opinions and needs and voice are important, even if they are the minority. Another conversation happened at church. My husband and I had been holding in months of frustration and one day it all came out and it was not exactly kind or pleasant. It was truthful and I don’t regret saying what we said, only how we said it. Most amazing to me is that we were not asked to leave nor ostracized from the group. Saying those things out loud had led to us taking more initiative to include people, and I feel like our bonds are stronger with our church family, even if it isn’t always what I want it to be.

I attended more than one prayer vigil/rally/protest. One time I was interviewed for the newspaper. I am naturally empathetic to the hurts of this world and also easily overwhelmed by the needs. So I have a tendency to feel everything to the point of being mentally paralyzed and needing to spend the day in bed crying or to bury my head in the sand and pretend everything is fine, fine, fine. Taking the news (and social media) in doses and taking action where I can makes me feel engaged with the rest of humanity. I still look away or ignore more often than I’d like. The news, the negativity, it is all still so hard to bear. But in waking up, I find that it’s often easier to make informed decisions.

I recognized that sometimes my awakening was more like that of someone who is sleep-deprived. You can be awake but not in a place of alertness, and it was in those times that saying whatever I was thinking was hurtful and damaging. Rest is a necessary counterbalance to being awake, not just in the literal sense of talking about sleep cycles. 

And maybe that’s where this word is leading me for 2019. (2019? Writing that number makes me feel like time is a myth.)

As I’ve started thinking more about my word for this coming year, but I feel need to focus more on listening. On silence. Both are lacking in my life right now. Sometimes I choose a word for the year that I can predict how it will stretch me. I know what comes from silence and listening. It scares me a little. But I think I need it.

And I need to ponder it more.

I think the word is going to be “listen” and it is going to be difficult.

Photo by Sai Kiran Anagani on Unsplash

When I look back at the words I’ve chosen (or that have chosen me) since that first year I started, I see a progression. And growth. 

2018: Awake

2017: Tender

2016: Present (Which ended up sounding a lot like my reason for choosing “awake”)

2015: Whole

2014: Enjoy

2013: Release

If you’ve never chosen a word for the year, I’d encourage you to think about it. I’m always surprised at how the word shows up in my life when I choose to focus my attention there.

And if you do choose a word, leave a comment and let me know. I’d love to hear why you chose that particular word.

Filed Under: One Word 365 Tagged With: happy new year, oneword365

What I would say if this was our Christmas letter

December 30, 2017

I love receiving Christmas cards and year-end letters from friends.

And I am terrible at sending them. I accepted this about myself years ago when the Christmas picture cards I ordered arrived too late and I sent out a handful of them and now have a dozen “extra” memories of our family from 4 years ago. I’m not some ungrateful soul and this doesn’t make me a bad friend. (My rule of friendship is basically if we’ve ever known each other for longer than a second, then we’re friends and always will be unless you decide differently.) I just can’t get myself organized enough to take family pictures and order cards and make sure we have enough stamps and envelopes and then actually write out all the addresses and such. I would need to start in July if I was going to make it happen by Christmas, and I’m just not sure that’s an option. (Let me repeat: I love that there are still people who send Christmas cards and pictures of their families, especially to us when we do not do that.)

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

This year, I sent a few cards as I felt the need and delivered one special basket of cheer. (Cookies for all the neighbors? Nope. 150 Christmas cards signed, sealed and delivered? Not a chance.) For my own self, this is the way it has to be. Again, I am in awe of those of you who spread the Christmas cheer to your neighbors, family and friends.

When the kids were littler, I enjoyed the chance to write a Christmas letter, wrapping up our year and looking ahead to the new one. I miss that. I don’t have a list to publish this year of best things I read or most meaningful moments. In the way of momentous occasions and big changes, this year was a dud.

But that’s kind of okay. We needed a year where things settled down and we settled in. To be honest, that is not how I thought this year was going to go. (Read last year’s wrap-up post and you’ll remember why.)

So, if this was our Christmas letter, arriving all sparkly and bright in your mailbox and you were reading it at the dining room table after dinner with your whole family gathered around, here is what it would say:

As far as years of our lives go, 2017 was almost uneventful. At least in the BIG NEWS sense of the word. Our biggest change was Phil starting a job at the end of the January after being unemployed for three weeks, and that happened so long ago, and the transition has been so smooth, that it almost feels like he’s been working there for years instead of approaching his first anniversary.

Okay, so there was also the transmission failure in our van during that same three-week stretch of unemployment when I thought that God might actually hate us because I felt kicked in the ribs when I was already on the ground after being punched in the face. January was a *fun* month for us.

After that, though, things settled down. We adjusted to Phil’s new work schedule (3 full-time days) and the kids did their things at school as if nothing happened. The biggest things that happened to us the rest of the year don’t seem that big on the outside, but they shifted something inside of us.

2017 became the year we spoke up for and stood with people on the margins. This was the year I started calling my elected officials and telling them what I think. It was the year I attended candlelight vigils in the city square and demonstrations in front of my representative’s office. It was the year I added my support vocally, visually and in writing to causes I had previously not considered.

(I didn’t realize this was a theme of the year until I received these two gifts from separate family members this Christmas.)

When it came time to choose an ornament for the tree that summed up our year, we had some trouble. We hadn’t taken any big vacations or really thought about it throughout the year, but when the opportunity came for us to buy this for our tree, we took it.

“Love lights a path” fits with our family and the ornament itself was made by trafficking survivors in Cambodia to benefit an organization that rescues and restores trafficking survivors in other areas of the world, so it’s doing double good.

For me, personally, it was the year I began to unstick my head from the sand. Last year I chose for my word “tender” and I have felt the bruises on my heart from caring about things and people more intentionally. I have cried and raged and shouted and lost “friends” on Facebook but I am ending the year with a heart this is softer than when the year started, and that was my ultimate goal. (More on my word for 2018 coming soon.)

The year wasn’t all activism and acclimation, though.

Phil and I took a trip to Boston in the spring and celebrated 10 years of marriage.

My daughter and I ran a 5K together.

Phil played soccer all summer. 

Our son rocked swimming lessons. Our daughter started learning to play the flute.

We visited numerous national parks, including a quick visit to Washington, D.C., in November to meet my grandmother who had flown in for the day.

This was the year I got an article published in a Chicken Soup for the Soul book. 

We tried new things like riding the bus, looking at the solar eclipse, and making new friends. As I scroll through the photos on my phone, I see things like visiting the Renaissance Faire, joining a group to visit the Islamic Center in our city, attending baseball games and concerts in the park. (We saw Arlo Guthrie live in concert!) We hosted family for a week of fun and went to Philadelphia. I went to a writing retreat and met one of my favorite authors. (FANGIRL ALERT.)

It was a year of small, seemingly insignificant moments but when I start to add them up, I can think of no other word but “full” to describe it. And that’s a very big deal when in previous years I have felt so empty.

I am sitting at my parents’ house in Illinois having twice driven through snowstorms in our short week here. The temperature is not even in the single digits (for the love of all that is holy) and I have complained all week about the northern Illinois weather I have left behind (while trying not to be jealous of my friends who are spending this week in warmer climates–love you!).

It is the second to last day of 2017 and I am worried that the weather will hinder our travel plans back to Pennsylvania or that when we get back to our farmhouse, we will find busted pipes from the colder-than-normal temperatures there or that our kitchen will be overrun with mice. (Aren’t I a pleasant person to be around?)

And yet, I end this year full of hope and possibility. This is not my default state of mind. 2018 holds promise. It won’t be easier or harder necessarily but different and new.

I’m ready.

How about you?

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Filed Under: holidays Tagged With: 2017 recap, christmas cards, christmas letters, happy new year, year-end wrap-up

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Hi. I’m Lisa, and I’m glad you’re here. If we were meeting in real life, I’d offer you something to eat or drink while we sat on the porch letting the conversation wander as it does. That’s a little bit what this space is like. We talk about books and family and travel and food and running, whatever I might encounter in world. I’m looking for the beauty in the midst of it all, even the tough stuff. (You’ll find a lot of that here, too.) Thanks for stopping by. Stay as long as you like.

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