Shades of Gray

I'm so tired of the polarization of society. I'm so tired of hearing people labeled as saints or Satan. Seriously! Can't we see that life exists in shades of gray? People are not all good or all bad! We are all created in the image of God, and all of our hearts are deceitful (Jer 17:9).

If I channel my Brene Brown and reflect on her book Braving the Wilderness, I'd say that the root issue of this polarization of society is fear. It's easier to pigeonhole people and label them than it is to accept that people are fallible, that they might disagree with us, that we might disagree with them. It is easier to see people as stagnant than as capable of growth, because then we might have to grow. 

Truth always exists, and there is a place for confronting lies and telling things like they are. But seriously, can we not let some things go?  I'm not saying we all have to agree. I just wish we could all get along and have some grace and appreciation of one another and our differences. I wish we could be authentic and genuine with one another without fear of recoil or backlash or getting sued for goodness' sake!

As a former black-and-whiter, I still have strong beliefs and preferences, especially when it comes to my faith in Jesus for salvation. But I don't want a Bible-basher, a polarizer, a labeler, a pigeon-holer. Rather, I want to see people as the intricately wonderfully created people they are, people capable of good and evil, people capable of growth and change and redemption. 

I know who I am. I know Whose I am. I don't need to be afraid. Because of that, I'm making an effort to see people in shades of gray,and the world in shades of color, for much of the beauty of life lies there.

Vulnerability is a Verb.

I've been thinking lately about feeling vulnerable, about how I use feeling vulnerable as an excuse. I use it as an excuse for not getting out and being social. Being social risks too much, I tell myself. I use vulnerability as an excuse for hiding my emotions, even from myself, because the depth of my emotions scares me. I use vulnerability as an excuse for not telling people how much I care about them because I don't want to risk loving and losing. But you know what? Without vulnerability, I'm hard, stoic, and cold. I'm inhuman and inanimate.

Vulnerability requires action, either on the part of others, or myself. And since I believe I'm responsible for my own feelings, I don't think anybody can actually make me feel vulnerable. That's a choice I have to make for myself. And I don't think I can feel vulnerable as much as I can be vulnerable.

Failing to admit my hurt and pain and rawness is part of my perfectionism. And it sucks. It keeps me scared and afraid and trapped. I don't want that. I want to connect and learn and love and grow. All those things require movement, choice, decision-vulnerability.

Vulnerability is a verb, folks. It doesn't happen in a vacuum, and it doesn't happen without some pain and agony. So here's to being more vulnerable, come what may....

Dust

The dust hung heavy as the sunlight streamed in through the living room windows. I could see the dust in the air, on the wood, on my hands. And no matter how much I tried to wipe that dust off, it clung to me, and to the surfaces from which I was trying to remove it. Sure, I removed some of it off, but the sun showed just how much more remained.

Life's like that. We've all got hurts, habits, hang-ups, and areas of just plain not knowing. The more we let the light in, the more we see we need to learn, grow, heal, and let go. Letting light in, whether via accountability, or preaching, or teaching, or plain old learning can be painful. It reveals our inadequacies. It shows us how much we don't know. It shows us how much dust yet remains.

But as we learn and grow, some of the dust clears or disappears. The sun exposes and reflects beautifully off the cleaned areas, even as it still shows the dusty ones. Light reveals life just as it reveals stagnation.

I'm not always all about living the vulnerable life. It's uncomfortable. I feel exposed. But if I have to let in the light to get some clarity, bring on the Son.

Filling the Time

Work has been crazily slow lately. Like I logged less than an hour overtime two weeks ago and got to take an unplanned day off last week. I've been trying to figure out what to do with my life in the meantime.

I usually fill my life with work, work, work. I love what I do, but it's not all of me. I have friends and family and church and maybe even some hobbies. But far too often I forget and neglect all of these. And in some ways, I'm afraid to indulge in real, authentic living, because I fear getting attached to it and then getting crazy busy again.

Crazy busy in an armor, so I'm trying not to overfill my life in this time of respite. Maybe God is trying to do some new things in my life. So I'm trying to live life a little and fill my life with some of the good things I've been lacking like community and relationships and rest. 

God's Word says, "He has made everything beautiful in its time" (Ecc 3:11a, New International Version). Hard as this season of my life has been, I think I'm beginning to see this truth played out. Praise be to Him.

Crazy-busy

"‘Crazy-busy’ is a great armor, it’s a great way for numbing. What a lot of us do is that we stay so busy, and so out in front of our life, that the truth of how we’re feeling and what we really need can’t catch up with us."

~Brene Brown

This quote is perhaps another way to explain where I'm at in life. I've been crazy busy for so long. And now, as life slows a bit, all the emotions are hitting me in the face. I feel lonely. I feel scared. I'm angry. I feel sad. And I find myself trying to fill time instead of feeling. I go on more walks. I take on more projects. I try to sleep more. None of these things are necessarily bad, but they're just other ways I keep myself numb. They're ways I stay a human doing instead of a human being.

What I really need right now is to sit with my feelings, to ask God what He is trying to tell me through them. But I don't want to. Admitting my feelings makes me raw and vulnerable and real. And that's not comfortable, or painless. It's pain-full.

I know God made me a feeling creature for a reason. My emotions help me connect to other people. My emotions help me experience the richness of this world God has made. My emotions remind me that God is God and I need to be still and know Him (Ps 46:10).

So here's to letting down the armor a little bit, to feeling the feels, to trying to enjoy life a little more instead of numbing myself with busyness. Jesus, hold me close.

I Have a Hangover.

No, not that kind of hangover. I don't drink. I have what I'd call "vulnerability hangover*." It's that incredibly confusing and painful state that comes from being so real that it hurts. It's that sensation that you've shared too much, done too much, and want to go back, but can't. I've been extremely vulnerable with myself this weekend, and it's left me feeling overstimulated, overly sensitive and overwhelmed with emotions I can't seem to sort out.

My job requires me to show up and be present with people and their stories each and every day. It's not the kind of job where I can show up and put myself on the shelf. No, I am there in person every day at work, and sometimes, the work is there with me when I leave. I like my job, I really do, but I haven't ever had a job where I've had to be this real, and it's hard. A particular call this past week reminded me of that.

It isn't very often that I go out with people and let loose and really have fun. And I did that this weekend. It reminded me of the value of community and of the importance of activities that really have no extrinsic worth. It was an experience that made me painfully aware that fun and community are seriously lacking in my life.

My parents were out of town this weekend, so schedule and routine were completely up to me. I'm so used to the rhythm of life with my family that decisions like where to sit to do my devotions and what to eat for dinner became overwhelming. I had to really tune in with myself and ask myself what I wanted. And I'm not used to that.

I've lost a lot of myself in my years of moving away from home, getting an education, trying to be perfect, and living an overall inauthentic life. In this process of coming home to Arizona, I'm coming home to myself and feeling the pain of God breaking down the walls of what I have known to make me into who He wants me to be. It's confusing and awkward and strange. 

My life right now is messy and complicated and I'm afraid, but I'm trying to show up. Please be patient with me. I'm in God's workshop and He's not done with me yet.

*I got the term "vulnerability hangover" from Brene Brown, but am using it in a slightly different context here.

Coming Home

“He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: 'Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.'”

~Matthew 18:2-3

I made the decision to move back Arizona a little over two years ago. On faith, I decided to pack up and leave, without a job, relationship, or a place of my own to go to. It has been a rough several years, but despite all the twists and turns of life, I feel like I'm finally coming home.

Coming home in a lot of ways looks like becoming a child again. I live with my mom and dad. Little brother was home for awhile. Though Mom and Dad treat me as an adult and respect me, we are once again making family memories over kid things like meals and grocery shopping and hiking.

I am regularly engaging in kid activities in my daily life. I ride bikes with a kid every other week for work. I went kayaking for the first time in 20 years a few Sundays ago. This year, I hung out with horses for the first time since I moved home. I do a lot more art. The things that mattered to me as a kid (and even some that didn't) are suddenly coming back into my life.

My relationship with my body has had its fits and starts, but I feel like I am becoming more comfortable in my own skin. I've become un-vegetarian since moving home and eat a lot more “fun food” because it's available. I now enjoy pizza most weekends, a favorite “kid food.” I wear yoga pants more than jeans, and that's okay, both with me and with work. Yoga pants/leggings were my favorite attire growing up, and they are becoming so again. Why not wear comfy when I can?

When as a child, I first told Mom what I wanted to do with my life, she told me that she couldn't see me sitting behind a desk. I got a little upset, but she was right. My job has been hard, but I feel like I'm finally starting to own it. I play with kids A LOT, and it's fun. My employer embraces atypical services and that's a good thing for me. Hard as this job may be, I feel like I'm doing what I was designed to do since I was a child: helping people.

Brene Brown writes, “We can't selectively numb emotion. Numb the dark and you numb the light.” Children generally don't know how to numb. They learn that “skill” as they experience trauma and hardship and disappointment. They start to tune out life as a means of survival. God doesn't want us to live like that. He wants us to live out of faith and trust and a belief that He is good and that there is good in the world created. He wants us to celebrate the good amidst the bad.

I've been “home” for almost two years, but I feel like I'm finally coming home, home to myself and to the person God created me to be. The highs are high and the lows are low, but I am finally feeling them and integrating them into my existence. God is bringing me to a place of more authentic living, to increased reliance and dependence on Him, and that is where I need to dwell. Praise be to Him!

Synonyms for Shame

I recently finished I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn't) by Brene Brown (2007). It's a book about shame and how it affects our society. (Brown defines shame as “the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing we are flawed and therefore unworthy of acceptance and belonging....Shame creates feelings of fear, blame, and disconnection" (p. 30). It's definitely informed the way I think about some things, for example how I view my words. 

Case in point, when I say, "I've had a crappy day," I'm not usually saying that there's literally been poop all over my day. I'm saying my day's been bad. I'm saying I'm tired. I'm saying the day I've had feels disconnected from the life I'd like to live. I'm usually sending a signal that I either need love and acceptance and belonging.

A second example is when I say, "I feel crappy. " Sometimes I say that because I have stomach ailments. But most of the time it's because I feel self-conscious, run down, disconnected from myself and from others. I feel afraid. I feel ashamed. It just seems more socially acceptable to say the word "crappy." (Note that I didn't say socially correct.)

My own experience with synonyms for shame make me wonder what other code words are out there. And it makes me ask why we're so afraid of saying we're ashamed. Is it because we're guilty and don't want to change our behavior? Is it because in this culture of rampant individuality and self-seeking we don't want to be vulnerable and acknowledge that we don't have it all together? I don't know. I just know that using synonyms for what I'm really feeling isn't really honest or authentic or real. So now that I know how shame presents itself, maybe I need to call it out, and call it what it is.

Friends, do you use synonyms for shame? If yes, what words do you use? Please share below.

Gut Instinct and God-Things

I don't believe in coincidence. If you know me, you know that I make that comment often. I believe in purposeful living, in living authentically. I believe that when I listen to my body, and "go with my gut," things make more sense.

Take for example the other morning, when I was debating what to have for breakfast. I wasn't that hungry, but I felt a strong urge to stop and eat a big breakfast. What I really wanted to do was practice yoga, dilly-dally, and eat a long leisurely breakfast. But I decided to listen to my gut. It just felt like I needed extra nourishment for some reason. Ten or so minutes into breakfast, I got called out for work and only had a chance to to eat a protein bar between breakfast and dinner. Good thing I had that breakfast to tide me over.

Further back in time to Sunday, I felt obligated to go to an event for Christian community, but didn't want to go. As I was wrestling with my guilt over saying, "No," a friend came up and invited me to a different kind of gathering that was more conducive to my lot in life. That confirmed my, "No," for the other event.

At work, I had an instinct that something wasn't right and that I'd need to reach out to some specific resources. So I programmed those contacts into my phone before leaving. It turned out I needed them.

Is my gut instinct always right? No. I'm human, and a sinner (Rom 3:23). But I do believe that the Holy Spirit indwells me, and that the Spirit's still small voice is often what speaks to me through my visceral responses to things. Oswald Chambers writes in My Utmost for His Highest, 

"When you have a right-standing relationship with God, you have a life of freedom, liberty, and delight; you are God’s will. And all of your commonsense decisions are actually His will for you, unless you sense a feeling of restraint brought on by a check in your spirit. You are free to make decisions in the light of a perfect and delightful friendship with God, knowing that if your decisions are wrong He will lovingly produce that sense of restraint. Once he does, you must stop immediately."

I think Chambers' words totally apply here. Listening to gut instinct, or common sense, is a good rule of life for the most part. And when things don't turn out right, it's time to regroup, repent, and consider if the "common sense" I followed was my own voice, or the Holy Spirit.

Gut instinct? Nah. Holy Spirit? Yes. And with the Holy Spirit, there are no coincidence, just "God-things."

I'm linking up with Amanda at Running with Spoons for this Thinking Out Loud post.

What a Gray T-Shirt Taught Me About Blame

"Who put this gray work shirt in with my white load of laundry?" I grumbled as I pulled the wet clothes out of the laundry. Roughly yanking up the shirt and unfolding it, what did I discover? It was my "good" t-shirt, and I put it in the white load of laundry to keep it away from the dirty gray "work" shirts.

I am so guilty of blaming other people for my problems. And I do it without ever trying to investigate the facts or gain perspective on the situation. Blaming other people keeps me from realizing my contributions to problems. It keeps me from feeling my own pain and shame when I screw up. It can keep me from being accountable for the consequences of my own actions. 

I want and need to be quicker to investigate and slower to judge. I need to be faster to admit fault and slower to cast blame. The world might be a better place if I did (or at least I'd have a better attitude about that gray shirt in the laundry).

(Brene Brown's video on blame is excellent and the source of some of my thoughts here.)

I'm linking up with Amanda at Running with Spoons for this Thinking Out Loud post.

I'll Let My Body Decide.

This is the thought I had as I laid down for a nap a week ago. I had debated this event all day in my head and couldn't decide whether or not to go. So I went to bed and decided to see if my body woke me up in time. It did, but my decision to not attend the event anyway is besides the point of this post.

The point of this post is my realization that I fail to listen to my body too much of the time. I write a lot about intuition, but it is something that still needs a lot of work in my life. There are definitely some times that I just have to push through, but sometimes I just can't, and I need to learn to be okay with that. And sometimes I need to tune out the noise around me and tune into my body. 

For example, instead of listening to the media noises that I should choose "healthy" desserts, maybe I should "give in" to my body's craving for Dairy Queen and go get a blizzard. Maybe I should ignore the societal "expectation" that I should wear jeans every day and wear the more comfortable yoga pants I own. Or maybe I should resist the pressure to overeat sugar at the holiday party and go home and have a healthy dinner because that is what will make me feel healthiest. Maybe I should press pause on the project I "should" have gotten done today and just go to bed because my body and brain are tired. There are times and places for limits and accountability and boundaries, but God made my body smart. I need to listen to it more.

What about you? Are there areas where you need to tune out, and tune in? Please share below.

I Just Couldn't Do It

I'm normally one to persevere, to keep going when it hurts, to do the max I can. But last week, I just couldn't. I had some stomach pains after lunch, and when I went to go to my next activity, the more I moved, the more I hurt. The more I hurt, the more I got hot and cold flashes. The more temperature changes, the more nausea. I could hardly move at times and rated my pain at a 10/10 in some moments. I didn't know what to do. I was with kids and didn't want to make a scene, but I wasn't moving like I should to coach and guide them. 
I wasn't supposed to leave the other adult alone, either. I thought I might need to go to the bathroom to throw up, but couldn't figure out how to make it there without crawling, and that would be a scene.

Eventually, another coworker arrived and I told her I wasn't feeling well. I told her I thought I needed to go home and asked if she could stay. It was embarrassing. I hate to admit weakness. The kids got upset and I felt like I was letting them down. But I really had to go.

I still feel embarrassed and sheepish and weak, but you know what? That's life. Real people get stomach pains sometimes. Real people have to leave work sometimes due to illness. Real people have to admit when they can't do it anymore.

This experience wasn't fun. It was painful in many ways. But it was real, and isn't that the journey I'm on? Authentic living in sickness and in health, I guess.

Authentic Living: Creative Expression

I got the urge to paint my toes bright green. I didn't know why. And I didn't even own neon green nail polish. So I bought some. Yes, it was a splurge. Yes, I bought a nail polish that was more expensive than some of the other options available. Yes, I might never use the nail polish again. Yes, I didn't need it in the physical sense.

But in the figurative, non-literal, self-care sense, I needed this. I needed to do something different. I needed to feel wild and crazy. I needed to indulge myself. 

I must admit that I initially felt a little bit guilty about this purchase, but then I realized that I spent a whole whopping $4. If I never use this nail polish again, but it met my intuitive need for authenticity on this day, it was worth it. (And I've rationalized my decision by telling myself that pedicures cost a lost more than $4. Pedicures aren't wrong either, just not what I needed on this day of life.) This is my form of creative expression, who I am in this moment. I'm embracing it. I'm embracing life.

Authentic Living: Makeup

My parents bought and allowed me to wear makeup after I turned 16. For a while, I was ascetic and didn't use it. Then I really got into the light blue eye shadow and the glitter. As a senior, my friend showed me how to wear liquid foundation and I enjoyed Thursdays, the day I didn't have early bird and could spend more time on my hair and makeup. Next came college, when I wore makeup most of the time and usually only didn't wear it when I felt crappy about myself.

Fast forward to my early work days and then a Mary Kay party that taught me how to better care for my skin, and how to best apply foundation (with a brush, hello!). But somewhere in there, I stopped liking wearing makeup so much. I felt self conscious that makeup would make my face look splotchy, like in this photo:

In grad school, I only wore makeup and dressed up on days that I had clients. I believed they would respect me more if I did. On days I didn't have clients, and on church days, I skipped the makeup. Slowly but sure, I wore less and less. I got to where I didn't want to wear makeup, where I felt inauthentic wearing it. But I wore it anyway.

This past year, I wore makeup every.single.day to work because I worked with high schoolers and thought I needed it to show that I was older and more mature than them. I really hated it. Towards the end, I started just wearing mascara, cover-up, and a little bronzer, and it felt right.

My mom and I had a discussion that wearing no makeup at all seems very noticeable (since makeup is a societal norm), but that maybe I could wear less. So I've continued on with the foundation as a cover up under my eyes and on red spots, a little bronzer, and my favorite Maybelline mascara. With this heat, less makeup has been a blessing, as foundation isn't dripping off my face or smearing on my phone or getting any other place it shouldn't be.

Might my makeup tastes change? Yes, and they probably will. But that's okay. For the present, this is me, where I am, and the makeup I wear.

Toward More Authentic Living

I read a lot: blogs, books, signs, cereal boxes, you name it. It's a hobby, I guess? Lately, the topic of intuitive living has crossed my path more times than once. (See "How Eating Intuitively Helped Me Live More Intuitively" by Alexis Joseph, "How Intuitive Eating Changed My Life" by Kara Lydon, and "Movement vs. Exercise" by Robyn Nohling.) Then I read this in Present Over Perfect: 

The fact that numbing becomes a lifestyle hit me. I realized that numbing is the way I've been living my life, not intentionally, maybe not even purposefully. Numbing is a coping tool, a way of surviving, a way of getting through. But it's not a way of thriving.

Some of you might remember my birthday goals post from May and how I wanted to improve my life by eating satisfying foods, sleeping better, and moving in ways that feel good. The purpose of those goals was to learn to love myself and my life better. I'm realizing now that those goals were signs of me wanting to know myself, to really live out and engage in life. Somehow, I've just been going through the motions.

I've had moments of joy and excitement and fun this past year, but it's also been a hard year, one of not knowing myself or where I fit, one of struggle, one of new (and to be honest, scary) opportunities. I've spent a lot of time trying to live up to the expectations of others and of myself.

I've been living completely by myself these past two weeks, staying in a hotel for work training. The first few days of that experience were rough, but then I started asking myself, "What do I need to get through this day?" and I tried to give that thing to myself without judgment. Doing so often meant sacrificing money, or time, or my own ideals about life. But you know what? I did better. I was more present. I felt more like myself. I felt a lot, to be honest: emotions, pain, bodily sensations, etc. But I realized that I wanted to live more of life this way, to embrace the joys and the struggles of life, to be me, and not the ideal self that others or my own self wants me to be.

Have I got this authentic living thing figured out? By all means, no! I'm just on the cusp of the journey. But I want to work this thing out. I want to be myself and let opinions and judgments and obsessions and compulsions go. And I want that for other people, too, to get rid of labels, to live truly and with integrity, to relate to others in real ways. Living authentically is going to be painful, but I'm choosing to embrace that in hopes of more fully embracing the joys in life that are to come.