Learning the rhythm of relaxation…

It was an unseasonably cool day today. I know I have a long way to go with the California heat (and truly, I’ve enjoyed the warmth of it) but it’s also nice to have an incredibly cool day with the windows open wide.

We are excitedly anticipating a big group of family coming to see us at the end of the month. But of course that means projects and to do lists. Admittedly, I love to have looming projects ahead. I love the challenge of overcoming and conquering the unknown.

But I am learning more and more the value of stopping. Sitting for a few minutes. No, not just sitting but sitting and unwinding the Monkey Brain of mental activity even when physical activity has momentarily stopped.

“Destroy the idea that you have to be constantly working or grinding in order to be successful. Embrace the concept that rest, recovery, reflection are essential parts of the progress towards a successful and happy life.” – Zach Galifianakis

We DVR’d and watched the CNN show, Chasing Life, last night. Dr. Sanjay Gupta travelled to Norway – in the midst of their three month period of 24/7 darkness – to find out where they find their happiness (consistently ranked the Happiest Nation in the World.)

It was fascinating to hear their stories. Stories thick with personal challenge and empathy for others. Kindergarten classes held in the forest with little play supervision. Can you imagine a U.S. classroom teacher allowing their students to climb high trees?! It made me cringe to watch. And yet the students developed such a strong sense of independence and self-confidence. Not to mention how they helped each other through the process of play.

Dr. Gupta interviewed a ski-survivor. After a horrific ordeal in frozen water…heart stopping for several minutes…she was now alive and participating in all sorts of sports. When asked if she was back 100% her reply floored me:

“I’m not 100% but I am 100% of what I need.”

Do I have 100% of what I need? It is a worthwhile question to hold close for awhile.

As so many others in the world, I have felt such a heavy loss with the sudden death of author, Rachel Held Evans. And just like others, she represents such a moment of hope for me. I was at a crossroads when I found her blog. Having been brought up in a strongly conservative christian church, I was feeling at odds with what I understood God to be and how He was represented within the Church as a whole.

Rachel merged the contradictions for me. She led me through the difficult process of letting go of human church expectations and pointed me more fully to the face of my Heavenly Father. To compassion and forgiveness. To acceptance of all humans as possessing equal value in the eyes of God. I was challenged to look at the periphery of life and notice those that were being left out of the public conversation.

I have been simultaneously grieving her 37-year-old-wife-mother-of-two-young-babies presence in the world while also feeling challenged. When such a strong human advocate leaves a void, how is it best filled?

And with any tragedy, it shook my priorities. I spend more mental space than I care to admit on what my next Instagram picture will be. It suddenly seemed so meaningless. I mean, let me be clear: being on Instagram is not meaningless. Finding inspiration is never unnecessary. Nor sharing inspiration. But the amount of mental space it takes up in my mind is silly.

Everyone knows blogging is dead. Yes. I realize that’s a commonly accepted thought. In my heart of hearts I think it might experience an uprise as people tire of quick and easy and return to a deeper delve into thought and ideas.

I am not good at vulnerability. While I don’t believe in divulging everything to everyone, I would like to go back to a time that I was more open and honest with my blog readers. A braver time. I think there are areas in my life that might be similar to others. Things we tend to brush under the carpet and smile relentlessly.

Wouldn’t it be easier if we tried to work through some of that together? There is a place for frivolity and fiction in life. It’s good to sit back and relax. It’s necessary. But I’ve spent too much time in the realm of easy lately. Self-examination has fallen by the wayside; too wide of a pendulum swing.

Iron sharpens iron we are told. I need your input and advice. I value it. I need to re-learn to do life in partnership with others.

Drawing from Dr. Gupta’s discoveries: Challenges give us confidence and self-worth. It stimulates creativity. Spending time in nature, exercising, developing deeper empathy for others – all foundations of happiness.

I’m up for the challenge. How about you?? We need to take care of each other.

 

Mom’ish

I’m not even sure anymore what, indeed, is a ‘traditional mother’. I’ve spent a great deal of time thinking I was too untraditional as a parent of two. School letters lay in a towering pile, unopened, until dust made itself comfortable. Sage wisdom and encouraging words came to me always too late for the needed circumstance; sarcasm and humor usually in its stead. Things I was supposed to discipline seemed immaterial while insignificant things loomed too large in my haphazard disciplinary arsenal. ⠀

“You wouldn’t know how to ground me anymore than I would know how to be grounded.” – a line from the movie ‘Easy A’ and one that my daughter pointed out as all-too-accurate for our relationship.

The older I get, however, the more *typical* I am finding those things to be within the brave community of motherhood. I’ve commiserated with other mamas who also felt the things they did – and didn’t do – seemed out of the realms of ‘norm’. I think untraditional is much more traditional than we know. ⠀

My mother was a 7th grade English teacher. She conjugated verbs and added ‘ly’ in all the appropriate places. A bit of her grammar-nazi thinking was eventually passed down to me as well. For that reason, this book title screamed out to me and within 5 minutes it was in my Amazon cart and soon after, on its way to my door. An early Mother’s Day present from me to me. I’ll circle the many recognized lines within its covers and add it to My Funeral file on my computer. (A desktop icon because they’ll never go digging any deeper than that.) ⠀

Don’t use funeral flower gladiolus unless you buy them from Trader Joe’s. Eliminate all cliches from your heartfelt tribute and by all means, if you use a cutesy, curvy font for my birth-death dates I will haunt you and your unborn children for eternity.

Mothers with a loose grip on your mothering style, do yourself a favor and grab this book. ⠀

There’s plenty of room in the margins for copious notes for your offspring…

and a hearty hello to you too, 2019

I’m not sure I am a resolutions kind of gal, but I am definitely a reflections type of gal. What worked last year? What do I wish to tweak? What, more importantly, went well and should stay the course?

For those enneagram followers out there, I am a 5. I am a ‘reflector’ by nature. Not just at New Year’s but almost daily: How can I make this better? Stronger? Do I need to change anything at all or was it okay just as is? It is my joy and my millstone.

It seems every year I begin with the same realization: I want to write more…to make it a daily discipline. But boy oh boy am I good at talking myself out of it. While I may be an enneagram 5, my spiritual gift is certainly RATIONALIZATION. (face palm)

What I am trying to sever is two thoughts in my mind:

  • No one reads blogs anymore. Everything must be quick and soundbite-length.
  • and, Can you write, Greta, just for the sake of writing? No statistics attached?

If I can succeed at separating these two thoughts – which, until now, have been joined like Siamese twins – I would find more joy in writing for the sake of just flushing out ideas and processing thoughts. I wish I could block all statistics of every kind – it would make me a happier person. But I can’t do that, so…how do I divorce statistics from writing? The only answer I can come up with (which is surely too simplified to actually work) is simply to just do it. Just write. Just don’t care.

You’re right. It’s probably doomed.

In my About page, I talk about the joy of words resonating between two individuals. The ‘I’ve been thinking that too, but didn’t know I was thinking it’ phenomenon that happens when we read others’ words. I love it when that happens, don’t you?! That is my greatest hope when you land here on this blog – that something will make sense to you on a visceral level. Or that you’ll find a DIY project that sparks creative ideas for you too. Or maybe home decor ideas that make you jump up and use what you already have to make a few tweaks around your home.

What I won’t emphasize is GO OUT AND BUY! There’s already too much of that out there. Of course we all indulge in new items here and there but a daily diet of BUY MORE just simply isn’t healthy.

Because I don’t know how to succinctly categorize my blog, I will go with the oft-used moniker: lifestyle blog. What you’ll find: A few words (sometimes too many…err, like right now, Greta. Let’s cut this off soon!) A few projects. Occasional book reviews. Some glimpses around our home. Plants, to be sure. But always, the whole of my heart.

2019. Let’s go slower and sit longer. Let’s lap up adventure one day and sit with our chai and a good book the next. Let’s reject being prescriptive and embrace our flawed and scuffed-up authentic selves. And while we’re at it, let’s do it the ‘old-fashioned way’ of blogging a few times a week – all written from right here, at my dining room table, wishing you were sitting across from me, talking through each post in person. That’s how I imagine it…just a casual conversation between friends.

Praying, hoping, and looking forward to connecting with you this year –
g

“Save me a seat!”

“We all bring something unique to the table. And when we women sit at it, there is no doubt in my mind that it becomes a more compassionate, caring, and collaborative table. If you are a woman, never doubt that you belong at the table. Never doubt that you bring something to it. And never forget to save a seat for someone else.” – Maria Shriver

Holding on and letting go

I’m beginning to find my groove here in California.

My home colors are very neutral but my office and workspace? Color invades. My colored glass collection. Crafts of all shapes and sizes. Yummy yarns and hard-to-resist notebooks holding ideas and budgets and books read. I admit to feeling a bit like a superhero lately, releasing them from their boxes and letting them ‘breathe free’.

Minimalism is often confused with taking things down to the bare minimum. When actually, it’s about surrounding yourself with things that serve a purpose – be that utilitarian or simply making you smile. When the sun streaks through each color of glass, it’s a rainbow of happy in the late afternoon.

I wouldn’t be content with a striped down home. I need a little tchotchke and a little zing. Sometimes holding on is an act of self-care. I am, however, releasing something I’ve held onto for far too long. Facebook. Instead of telling myself it’s forever, I’m saying it’s for November through the end of the year. By the new year, I’m hoping it has become obsolete in my world. In reality, I don’t spend a lot of time on it anyway. But when I start scrolling down my feed, I don’t know…I don’t usually feel joy.

Here’s the thing I’ve noticed: Even though I share part of my life here online, I’ve become more and more uncomfortable with the way people feel as if they are keeping in touch with me because they’ve read all about me online. It’s a false sense of connection. It’s an epidemic we are all experiencing these days. We *feel* like we know people we’ve never met and we *feel* as if we are staying connected to those we do know and love, simply because we read their updates regularly. Face to face and voice to voice is falling by the wayside completely.

I’m no Luddite. I luuuuuuuv my mobile phone and social media. Don’t get my wrong. But I love real relationships even more. Hanging up the phone after a conversation or walking out of a coffee shop after a sit down with a friend, feels exhilarating and renewing. I don’t want to lose that feeling. I want to hang on to the belief that those relationships still exist.

Sometimes moving forward, is reaching back into the past and holding on to what is essential and important. Authentic relationships develop in many ways. (And meeting many of you through social media has been such a joy to me.)

Following my gut tells me Facebook is not feeding into my world in a positive and rejuvenating way. And I want to honor that gut instinct.

How do you self-protect while also enjoying the thrill of the online world?

——————–

Amendment:

As I was editing this post, I read a comment on my last Instagram picture. It is from someone who I’ve met through social media and consider a trusted and heart-filled friend. She commented about a recent podcast she’d listened to that encouraged their listeners to daily ‘show ourselves kindness and grace’. Showing ourselves kindness sounds much more lyrical and lovely than my phrase above, ‘self-protect’. I am permanently replacing it in my mind and vocabulary.

(And isn’t it doubly apropos that my Instagram’s friend’s name is Grace??) 🙂