My Final Remarks

tombs001Facebook…If you are reading this, I have already made my decision to say goodbye. I have lost my desire to be in a relationship with you. In fact, somewhere along the way, I think our relationship has taken a turn for the worse and gotten a little bizarre. It started off good…a few friends that were “real” friends in “real” life. You helped me to keep in touch with people, share photos and silly kid stories with friends and loved ones out of state, strengthen bonds within already existing friendships.

But then, things started to get weird. Friends of friends started friending me, people from so long ago they were a distant memory, people I didn’t really know and never talked to!  And I didn’t want to be “mean”, so I accepted.  And I started noticing how other people lived, at least how they projected or I perceived that they lived…how many times they worked out, went on vacation, what they ate for breakfast, their thoughts on parenting, how their marriage was going…even public Facebook accusations of infidelity (?!) and without knowing it, I started to spread myself a little thinner.  I subconsciously started comparing myself, my life, my kids, my house and then for some reason, I didn’t feel quite as good about my life, or at times, perhaps went the other way and became shamefully prideful. But I brushed it off and vowed to compare less.

Then I started thinking about how odd it is that I know who’s loved one had died, or who was going through a painful divorce or issues with their kids…really intimate and hard life stages. Yet, if I ran into them in a store, I would NEVER have brought these issues up. It just wouldn’t be appropriate based on the lack of a shared, “real” relationship. I might even change directions to avoid seeing and greeting them. But yet, I knew such intimate details about their lives. Very strange and so unnatural…

And I realized that these same people that I don’t really know, know so much about my life (and I even consider myself a guarded fb user!)…my kids, their names, our struggles with autism.  Again things that might feel forward or intrusive if half of my Facebook “friends” were to ask.

None of these thoughts are new…they have all been stated much more eloquently by critics of social media.  I’m not sure what officially brought on this decision.  Maybe it’s the fact that I turn 40 this month and have far less tolerance for BS.  Maybe it’s because I’m so introverted and am perhaps becoming more so with age.  And maybe it’s being sickened by seeing it carried out ad nauseam in my teenagers and sincerely fearing the relational and communicative deficiencies of future generations.

I think all of the above is true. But I think I’m also coming to grips with the fact that I am an “old soul” trapped in a young-ish body.  My husband and I have boxes of letters from when we were dating. I prefer a hardback to a kindle, driving to flying, and walking to driving. I cherish being home with my kids and being available to help my husband. I don’t have a bucket list, nowhere I want to visit before I die. I just want to live a long and happy life with my husband and watch our kids and grandkids grow. Perhaps some would say this is settling or a lack of ambition. I think that has been my fear. But I have realized how inverted and backward we have become…how fearful we are of simplicity, of a life “merely” lived well.  It seems we are losing the ability to solely cherish things in our heart without having to broadcast.  Perhaps we are afraid to just BE, without feeling like we have to be something great.  As I jokingly (but also very seriously) say to my kids, “If it’s not on snap chat, did it even happen?!”

I recognize that what I’m saying is not for everyone, that social media can, in fact, be a great way to connect people. There is no judgment or condemnation in my decision. It’s just that for me, I feel the need to part ways for my sake and as an example to my children; that maybe, just maybe this whole social media thing is a little strange.  Perhaps it’s time to step back from technological advancements and connections, slow our lives, recalibrate, have real conversations and let go of ones that aren’t.  It’s a decision for me that has given a tremendous amount of peace and freedom and space to breathe that I didn’t realize was even missing.

Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t do this sooner, why I’ve drug this departure out for so long.  I think the biggest reason is fear.  I worry that if I’m not present on social media, people will think I’m weird, snobbish, or that I’m trying to make a trendy statement.  But mostly, I worry that if I’m not on social media I might truly just disappear and be forgotten about.  Perhaps that is true.  My circle is quite small and might get even smaller.  But the people that are in my life will be there by choice, not out of guilt or compulsion. I don’t want my life to be measured by the number of “friends,” the number of likes, the number of shares.

To my fb friends…there are a great many of you that I have enjoyed getting to know better and reconnecting with through Facebook…your humor, your insights, your hearts. Please understand that this is not a desire to become a hermit or escape from relationships, but rather a desire to deepen existing friendships in a real and authentic way.  I believe you all have my phone number, or at least know how to get it. You can also follow my blog…I don’t write often but if I do have something to say, it will be found here.

Goodbye Facebook…it’s been “real”.

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Intentional Silence

undulations“Individuals, like nations, must have suitable broad and natural boundaries, even a considerable neutral ground, between them. I have found it a singular luxury to talk across the pond to a companion on the opposite side. In my house we were so near that we could not begin to hear, we could not speak low enough to be heard; as when you throw two stones into calm water so near that they break each other’s undulations. If we are merely loquacious and loud talkers, then we can afford to stand very near together, cheek by jowl, and feel each other’s breath; but if we speak reservedly and thoughtfully, we want to be farther apart, that all animal heat and moisture may have a chance to evaporate. If we would enjoy the most intimate society with that in each of us which is without, or above, being spoken to, we must not only be silent, but commonly so far apart bodily that we cannot possibly hear each other’s voice in any case.”

~An Excerpt from Walden by Henry David Thoreau~

 

It has been said that words are the most base form of communication.  In a time when everyone is concerned with finding their voice in the world, we forget the impact and importance of silence.  When we speak constantly, people stop listening.  Words that might be valuable, get lost in the sheer projectile volume.  Life gets big and chaotic and turbulent and if we rise to challenge it, we immediately begin to get lost in the noise.  This does not necessitate a passive, apathetic approach to life.  Practically, we must rise to meet to whatever stands before us.  But we cannot forget the value of first withdrawing into ourselves to subdue our inner turmoil.  When life gets big, we must get small.  If we mindlessly rush headfirst into pandemonium, we will only add to the cacophony and delirium.  We feel the need to say the right thing, do the right thing, and forget that silence is also a viable course of action.  How many problems in life could potentially be solved by just stopping, and waiting in silence?  The Tao Te Ching states that, “No one can make muddy water clear, but if one is patient, and it is allowed to remain still, it may gradually become clear of itself.”  If we are able to resist the urge to constantly fill time and space with empty and urgent words, silence becomes not only an ideal choice but also a familiar and comforting companion as well.

 

We can make our minds so like still water

That beings gather about us that they may see, 

It may be, their own images, 

And so live for a moment with a clearer,

Perhaps even with a fiercer life

Because of our quiet.

~The Celtic Twilight by William Butler Yeats~

                                                                                                               

 

 

 

 

 

Common But Not Normal

A study was conducted in 1967 by a man named Martin Seligman.  In Part 1 of this study, three groups of dogs were placed in harnesses.  Group 1 dogs were briefly put in a harnesses and then released.  Groups 2 and 3 consisted of “yoked pairs”.  Dogs in Group 2 were given electric shocks at random times, which the dog could end by pressing a lever. The dogs in Group 3 were connected to a Group 2 dog and received a shock whenever Dog 2 received its shock.  However, the lever did not stop the shock for Dog 3.  Thus, for Group 3 dogs, the shock was “inescapable”.

All dogs were later placed in a small box in which they would receive the same shock.  Dogs from both groups 1 and 2 quickly jumped over a low partition to escape the shock.  However, the group 3 dogs simply laid down because they had learned that they could neither control nor end the shocks.

Our culture has become like the dogs of Group 3.  We are being shocked over and over and we too, have learned that the shocks are inescapable.  School shootings, bombings, acts of terror and suicides no longer shock us.  They have become common.  Social media and the internet have taken over our children’s lives and “nudes,” and pornography have become not only common, but acceptable and even praised.  Nothing is sacred.  Sex has become more prevalent than a deep conversation and any sense of modesty has long been vanquished by oversexed bodies splashed across any possible avenue.

However, what we seem to have forgotten is that there is a difference between common and normal.  Just because something happens with frequency does not mean that it is normal.  Prostitution is common but it is certainly not normal behavior.  We have forgotten that humans are created good, in the image of a Creator, and that it is the good that should be considered normative.  We, like Group 3 dogs, have laid down in the midst of the pain.  We have accepted the shocks as routine and no longer even look for a way out.  I must admit that I do not see any readily apparent escape route from that which is “common” in our world.  But I certainly refuse to look at any of the aforementioned issues as normal.

8cc0f5ce9f52d4c095ff419c2d25f05fThis age of tolerance which is good in many ways, has also caused us to turn a blind eye and accept much of what is unacceptable.   I realize that there is no way to stop the “shocks,” but we can at least jump over the partition of resignation and try to live a life that seeks to regains true normalcy and right thinking.   Although painful, I truly believe that it is better and more fully human to grieve and suffer through the shocks that to become desensitized and lay down in defeat.

Autism, Judgment, and Love

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“Levitating” with a shovel implanted in the ground

I am the mother of an 11-year-old boy with a diagnosis of autism and a love for magic, levitating, yo-yo’s and recreating things he’s seen on YouTube.  He makes me laugh and cry harder than any of my other children.  Over the years I have grown pretty thick skin.  I rarely notice the stares if he loses it in public.  I am mostly used to the judgment.  I have been told by a stranger at Costco that I should have left him at home when he pushed his sister.  He has been nudged by the boot of an unknown man and told to “mind his mother” when he was pitching a fit on the floor.  When I locked him out of my car in the parking lot of a mall because he was hitting me, the woman in the car facing mine took off her sunglasses to glare and shake her head at me (I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear).  To be certain, I am not impervious to these occurrences, but they have become a part of life to some degree; my new normal if you will.

But what I cannot handle, what absolutely dissolves my resolve and shakes me to the core is when someone shows me kindness.  Heaven help us all if a stranger stops and asks if I’m alright or if I need help, or even worse, tells me I’m doing a wonderful job as a mother.  I might actually drop and shed every last tear in my body.  I can be strong and keep a stiff upper lip.  But look at me with concern on a bad day and ask how I’m doing, and you might literally witness my complete and utter undoing.

There are many things in life that I do not know.  But the one thing I do know is this: impulsive judgment without understanding gives rise to anger and bitterness.  It builds walls and leads to retreat or retaliation.  Love however, can undo and rebuild in one swift movement.  It can pluck you out of your small world and drop you into the foreign land of another’s struggles.  In a world confused by what color lives matter,  who can use what restroom, and which politician will cause the end of the world, if we do not respond with love, we will leave only emotional casualties behind.

Consequently, when we find ourselves on the receiving end of unfair judgment, we are left with a choice. We can wallow in the pain, playing the part of a victim.  Or we can choose to release ourselves, and with gratitude, turn our focus to the goodness surrounding us.  We will see what we choose to see.  Even though I have, at times, been enraged by people’s cruelty, it cannot compare with the love that has humbled me over and over again.  I have seen my son bite his teacher and draw blood, and then watched them walk hand and hand into school.  Friends and family have searched for and then cooked meals that are free of the fifty billion allergens we avoid, just to give me a night off of cooking, or to make sure that my son has a special treat at family dinners.  Teachers at his school have given up their personal time so that my husband and I could get away for our anniversary.  I have received phone calls from school because one of my other children had unbeknownst to me, taken the needs of a physically disabled student upon himself, and was carrying the child’s backpack to class every day.  My dad regularly drives an hour each way to take my son to a movie so that I might enjoy a quiet morning in church alone. Finally and perhaps most importantly, I have been on the receiving end of the unconditional love of my son.  No matter how many times I lose it, or become irritable with him, or feel like I’m going insane, he tells me every night at bedtime without fail, “Good night, I love you.  You’re special to me.  I think about you in my heart.  I think about you in my peace.”  I don’t really even know what it means, but it’s beautiful.  Some nights, I brush over it, because I’m just so excited for him to go to bed.  But when I stop and think about it, I can’t really think of anything nicer that anyone has ever said to me.  And once again, I am undone.  Love has overcome the anger and frustration of the day and released me one more time from the snare of judgment (me toward myself this time).  I settle in for the night and fall asleep with the words of Mother Teresa in my heart, “Not all of us can do great things.  But we can do small things with great love.”

 

Reading Color

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Today I met the most amazing man.  He is an older gentleman from Greece and he writes (draws) icons for Orthodox churches. He was sweet and funny but what I found fascinating was his ability to see color.  Now anyone who knows me knows that I am a bit obsessed with color. I love the undertones, the way they change from wall to wall, from day to night. I love colors that look blue and gray and green all at once, to where you almost don’t know what color you’re looking at.  I would get a Ph.D. in color if there was such a thing!  This is very different than my husband, who when asked which paint swatch he likes best, responds with a shrug and says that they all look the same (bless his heart, as they say in the South).  But I digress…back to the iconographer. What amazed me about this man is that he not only can read color, he  knows how to MAKE it!  He can look at a color and know how much black and white and red and yellow and blue would be required to CREATE any color!  He knows what to add if it’s too dark or how much to add if it’s too light and what colors enhance the richness of others.  This might be silly but it honestly mesmerized me.  I’ve been thinking about it all day.  What talent and skill!

soulAnd so I have come to this thought tonight…what if we could look at people the way that this artist looks at color?  What if we could have insight into the creation of their personhood, how they became who they are…their ups and downs, sorrows and joys, the moments that have either broken or resurrected them, what they currently long for?  What if we could discern exactly what “color” to add to enhance other’s lives and beautify their existence?  How much more patient and compassionate would we all become?  What if we could learn to look at OURSELVES this way?!  What if today, instead of seeing my irritability and the dishes and the messes and everything that feels like a failure, what if I could look at myself like a color, complex with constantly changing undertones, drastically different in the morning light, but beautiful nonetheless.

But alas, my eye is not quite as developed as this skilled artisan.  I still see only in tones and shadows.  I do not look deep enough or close enough.  The late author Jonathan Swift writes that, “Vision is the art of seeing what is invisible to others.”  Oh, that I might have the eyes to see that which remains hidden in every person, and the knowledge of what to add so that fullness of color might be achieved.   Perhaps over the course of my life, I will hone my skill and attain proficiency.  In the meantime, I will remain restlessly content to aspire to those who have inspired.