2013 Action!

Braedon has this thing he does. It kind of drove me nuts for a while, until I took some time to think about why he does it. This seems to happen a lot. Kids offer great insight into the universal truths of man. Their brains aren't filled with distractions of adulthood. This thing he does, it happens several times a day, and each time, I attempt to match his excitement because I get it now. Braedon reads a book or magazine nearly every second of down time he has, and every time he runs across a name in a book or magazine he recognizes as a friend's or family member's, he just HAS to tell me.

"MOM, look! Jacob Anderson! I have a second cousin named Jacob! And there's a Jacob in my class, and remember that one time our neighbor's cousin's dog's ex-owner's name was Jacob? And Anderson too, that's Grandma and Grandpa's last name."

I don't share in the love of his name game, but what I do understand is his desire to connect. I have that same need to find a common thread in all of my relationships. I seek insight into myself by finding bits of me in everyone around me. The better I have become at dropping judgement, (and I have gotten better although I have a long way to go,) the more I crave that healthier replacement, acceptance.

In 2012 that craving became an addiction. That addiction took hold via Facebook. As the year progressed, I found myself refreshing more and more, to an obsessive point. I looked for "likes" and comment counts and anything that gave me even a moment's rush of "I belong." Seeking my place in the world, a place to belong, I think that is a good thing. But shortcutting genuine connections through Facebook has left me frazzled, tired, sick.

Facebook has become my junkfood for the soul. I spend so much of my day snacking on its instant boosts, only to be left emotionally famished by the end of the day. 

It has also robbed me of my quiet time. My brainstorm time. My epiphany time. I recently read a suggestion that to find one's passion, take notice of what you think about when you're taking a dump. Profound. Insightful. Kind of gross. 

The instant I read this, I knew what must be done. I don't "think" on the toilet. I Facebook. That's when I decided enough was enough. As with any addiction, I knew the best way to quit was cold turkey.

Instead of making a resolution for 2013, I'm taking an action. I'm deleting my Facebook in search of something better. Something smaller, safer, healthier, real-er. (You shush, spell check...)

Oddly enough, as I was scrolling through the AOL celebrity gossip page this morning, (a guilty pleasure, NOT an addiction,) I ran across a New Year's resolution from 2010 that sums up this blog post perfectly. It was made by John Mayer, a man who's music I don't know, and who, every time I look at him, I believe needs a good 16 hours of sleep and a shower. Oh well, I'm not about to let a hokey piece of cheesy yet sound celebrity advice slip my grasp. 

His resolution:

“I will not use texting as a form of reaching out for superficial attention/affection at all hours of the night. By not micro-trading in my emotional stock value every second of the day, I may just end up seeing the bigger, beautiful picture.”

Touche, you greasy womanizer, you... touche. 

Post Election Apology

The votes rolled in, the country was in an uproar, I sat on the couch with the kids in bed and my husband by my side feeling... sad. Not sad at the election. Sad at my Facebook feed and all of the judgement being haphazardly spewed from those I love most. 

I spent some time thinking about why I felt so unsettled. Uncomfortable. Misunderstood. Unloved. After a while, those painful, misty thoughts fogging my head began to take form. I spent a lot of time pondering the idea of judgement. Ultimately, I concluded that I owe my people an apology.

I am so privileged to know people from all over the country.  My friends are so diverse and unique, yet something ties us all together that's stronger than all of our differences. Which is good. If that greater force wasn't there, we'd all be pretty damn lonely. I don't know every one of the 300 million American individuals personally. But of the ones I do know, not a single two have the exact same beliefs on everything. Not even close. I think it would even be safe to say that not a single two people in America share the exact same beliefs and, more importantly, what to do with those beliefs. Which means what? Either that there is more than one right answer, or that our little pea brains can't deduce The Answer on our own. It is so much bigger than us.

Considering this carefully, and considering that the polls show our that country is divided right down the middle, I must also consider that I am wrong. I don't know about what, and I probably never will, but it's a fair assessment to say that we are all wrong. I guess we just don't think about that part. As long as our neighbor is MORE wrong than us.

That's where it starts to sting.

Our Facebook stati, our "funny" political jokes, our holy rolling are all just judgments made out of fear, insecurity, and loneliness. Being right becomes more important than being Love, and all of the colorful cogs of society begin to separate themselves, piling up in giant heaps of matching shapes, sizes, and hues, rendering them utterly useless. Cogs are nothing more than scrap metal without each other. Judgement does this. Judgement comes from fear, insecurity, and loneliness. 

I have been made to feel like I can't in any way be a Godly person, because my candidate won. I feel judged as a hypocrite, as naive, as blind, as evil. It hurts because I LOVE the people that spoon feed me these feelings. It hurts BECAUSE I love. I would never want to make someone feel the way they make me feel about myself. I just don't understand how they could do this to me. I want to scream, "IF ONLY YOU KNEW MY HEART!!" Then I reflect some more, and I realize... I've done the same to them. I bet they want to scream the same to me.

I do it. And I am sorry. I am scared, insecure, and lonely. I'd also like to make amends for all of the times I have chosen to take the "higher road." There IS no higher road. Claiming it exists only succeeds in judging those hanging out there on the "lower road." It's a passive aggressive form of judgement. It has nothing to do with love.

I think of the two people that I love the most. (Blood not included.) One I married, and one I have committed to in much the same way. Fortunately, my husband and I share very similar moral, ethical, and family values. This creates peace in our home. How we manifest those values, through our political beliefs, thoughts, and actions, are drastically different. Sometimes I just don't understand where he is coming from.

But here's the thing.

He helps me to understand. 

He doesn't try to change my mind, or try to be right, or belittle my input. He says simply "this is how I feel, and why I feel that way." I can ask questions, seek clarification, and he complies. Then he lets me do the same. It's so much more beautiful than the "life and let live" philosophy. It's so much more powerful than the "don't ask, don't tell" philosophy. It's a way to OPEN EACH OTHERS' HEARTS to an idea that we once shut the door on and locked with a deadbolt. By listening honestly and earnestly to each other, from a place of love, our hearts change. We still disagree. We still don't completely understand. But we have connected on a level higher than politics or religion. We have connected through love.

My best friend and I have similar lifestyles, passions, desires, and dreams. We differ in our philosophies. Still, I have learned so much from her. My eyes have been opened to a thought pattern I would have NEVER been able to come up with on my own. During our hours (and hours and hours and hours) of talk, I swear sometimes I can feel new pathways forming in my brain. I can feel it stretch like a muscle in a way it never has before. I can FEEL it. And let's be honest; the fluffy red symmetrical Valentine heart doesn't live in our chest. It lives in our brain. Through our talks and our exercises, my heart is growing.

This is able to happen with these two people because of one thing. My love for them, and their love for me. (Is that two things?) In true love there is safety and security and a lack of judgement and fear. They are able to stretch me, stretch me, stretch me until I feel like I could snap. But the rubber band holds, eventually thrusting us back together in an even tighter bond.

If only... if only everyone could reach this level with everyone.

That will never happen without love. And love does not co-exist with judgement.

So I apologize.

I will work to make amends with my acts towards my fellow man. I will work to "practice what I preach." I can't and won't give up my beliefs, (although they ARE ever-evolving,) but I will use those beliefs to perform acts of love to as many people as I can. And when I judge again, I hope to catch it. And apologize again.

I think there's one thing we can agree on; being human is hard as hell.

When Right Brain Marries Left Brain

It is difficult for me to buy utilitarian things that we could use but don't need. I'd much rather buy things we need, or things we want. That is why early one morning I found myself enjoying my daily coffee ritual out of a sippy cup. 

I can't think of any other cabinet in any other home that lacks such a necessity. Coffee cups are everywhere. They make great souvineers and impulse buys and gifts. But I've never been much of a collector. I remember feeling inadequate in grade school every year when bring-your-own-collection day came around. The other kids would bring in piles of beautiful rocks, pennies, stamps, assortments of all kinds. I can't remember what I brought in even once. Things with some kind of loosely similar theme I threw together then night before, no doubt. It's funny to think back on the way we discover our differences. I'm thankful not to be a collector now. I err on the side of disorganized and lazy and a little all over the place. I can only imagine what a collector with my tendencies would look like. I believe TLC based a show off it.

Eventually I became so annoyed by our dwindling supply of coffee mugs that I leaped into inspired action, ne'er a drop of coffee spilled, (thanks sippy cup!) and signed into my Amazon account. It dawned on me that I could increase my mug supply by two if I borrowed back the mugs I generously lent our betta fish. I felt a little guilty ruthlessly stripping their safety caves from them without a replacement, so I ordered two adorable Betta Logs on Amazon for $8 each.

That night at dinner I sheepishly confessed my frivolous purchase to Jordon. We had talked just the day before about tightening down on our impulse buying, but I felt that my purchase was justified and sound and I was certain he would appreciate the +2 mug increase. Level up! If I phrased it in a nerdy gamer way he'd be more apt to see my point, right?

My confession was made, my case was plead, my conscience was clear. I settled back into my meal feeling good about my accomplishment. Then Jordon asked me in equal parts bewilderment, curiosity, and disgust, "Do you know how many new coffee cups you could have bought with $16?"

Oh. 

I hadn't even thought of that. 

Meet Fishy. And my coffee cup.

Meet Cheesy and his fancy new log