I'm Tired. But.....

I'm tired.

This morning my husband and I got up to have breakfast with our sons at 8am. Not super early. We didn't go to bed super late. Ran an errand or two and dropped my husband off at the track meet. Since I don't have to be there until later, I came over to the Caribou by campus to lounge for a bit before heading back to the school. And as I'm sitting here watching the young college folks come and go, study and laugh, move with quickness I realized....I'm tired.

Not necessarily like I need more sleep tired. And not necessarily like #45 has me drained tired.  (although on any given day those things might be true) But in a what am I actually accomplishing kind of tired.

Truth be told, this is a slippery slope for me. It can mean the start of a snowball affect to a dark place of 'why are we here' or 'does anything even matter'. That is not good or healthy and as many of you know I've spent decades getting the right mix of medication to combat that.

But.

If I'm able to stay on the cliff, peering over at the tiredness and what is propelling it....it allows me time to reflect on what truly is, where good is and restores a hope in me that puts me back on solid footing facing what's to come with renewed energy. I can see past the ugly to what might be.

There is definitely enough ugly in the world to go around. People lying, dying....pain and destruction....hate that permeates a soul and seeps into society....abandonment and judgement....opinions based on nothing but ignorance. And in a tired place that can become so overwhelming. I mean how does one person tackle that?  It seems too simple and almost a cop out to say, 'Well you can't change the world-there's only 24 hours in a day-you can only focus on who is in front of you.'  That may definitely be the case at times. And there is nothing wrong with operating that way-because that is important too. But if you think of all great social movements that have changed our reality....there are always folks in the mix who are consumed with the whole. And not just the individual. There has to be those thinking big picture; those carrying the weight.

Slaves aren't free focusing only on the individual.
Women aren't voting focusing only on the individual.
Same sex marriages aren't legal focusing only on the individual.

As I'm peering over the cliff today...

I'm tired of hearing talk about a wall that people think will keep us safe.
I'm tired of seeing us not supporting others around us that need our help.
I'm tired of knowing there are some who won't have food tomorrow.
I'm tired...

What holds me over that cliff?  And then pulls me back?

The people I see around me who are interested in learning more about those who aren't like them.
The people I see who are brave to tell their stories knowing they might be met with hate.
The people I know who are ready and willing to roll up their sleeves and do the hard work of caring.


The sociologist in me battles between the one and the whole. Because the whole has always been mine. This is who I am. I am weary and tired at times, but by making sure I have adequate breaks and self care, I am able return to that focus and refreshment I spoke of earlier. And I am very blessed to have a wonderful support system who checks on me and reminds me to care for myself.  So I take a deep breath and close my eyes. And I open them with a heart even more ready to hold the heavy weight and burden of others.

That might not be you. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Then you can focus on the one. And that is so so vital. The one that needs you. Engage with your community and sphere of influence and become a part of someone's support system. And I challenge you look beyond your own little family. They are important--of course they are. But you are their built in support system. Place yourself into the support system of someone who doesn't have one. (PS. This doesn't necessarily mean poor people here. Think of the college student without encouragement, the co-worker with nowhere to go for the holidays.)

Imagine a world where there was no fringe. Where everyone had a place to sleep, a plate to eat and someone to care that they were there.  Can you see it?

We can be tired.  But we can't stay there.  The one and whole need us.
Who and how are you going to support today?  
And maybe it's just living out loud, choosing to exude love.
Sometimes you never know who are you are reaching and how it will affect their day.

That's what I got today.

Love is love.

Love is love.
and to be human
is more
than having a penis or vagina.

Why do we care what
someone else has in their jeans
Why would we try to deny
their existence
their humanity

My world began narrow
there were men
and there were women
and once in awhile
you'd whisper about
another human
who just didn't seem 'right'.

As I left that small place
and saw a fuller view
of every kind of human
that God had created
I saw that the whisper
was hatred in disguise
fear and ignorance
veiled as right

We give things a label
because it's just what we do
our need to categorize
created LGBTQ

And I hear ugly around me
Speaking with hate and rage
instead of a desire to learn
there's determination to ruin
how do we deny a human's existence
when they are standing right there?

I see you Aeryn Raven
with all your glorious joy
You slay me dear Kristina
for your honest bravery every day
I love you Benjamin Buttons
and your kind and thoughtful ways
You are valued and loved
worth not determined by what
someone else says
I'm standing here with you
and not going anywhere.

That's what I got today.

My Mama Heart is Full.....

When my kids were babies
I used to pray and hope
that one day
they'd learn to walk and dance
to share and to listen
to be close and stay

When my kids were little,
I used to pray and hope
that one day
they'd learn to listen and wait
try to understand and
have something to say

When my kids were middle
I used to pray and hope
that one day
they'd make their path
follow their own dreams
go their own way

When my kids were almost there
I used to pray and hope
that one day
they'd see that path right there
that they had dreamed about
and fly away

Now my kids are grown
with some growing left to do
and I continue to  pray and hope
as I see them
stand firm in their beliefs
and love all that they can
they fall but still get up
even if they fall again

And my mama heart is full
And I'm grateful because

I see them making choices
and decisions on their own
I see them being far
but always returning home

What's Your Dream....

Today is a day where many love to share Martin Luther King Jr. quotes.  They love to talk about what he died for. They love to talk about choosing love over hate and loving their fellow mankind and the unity that has come to be from MLK's famous speech, which has been coined, 'I have a dream.' 

If I seem jaded, please understand that I recognize there are many folks, of all colors, who truly understand that MLK was a revolutionary forward thinker, who challenged the status quo and who was MURDERED because of it. That he didn't live to be a wise old man but was killed when he was only 39 years old. But I honestly believe there are so many more who want the wall built, but also will share an MLK quote today.

While the 'I Have a Dream' speech is not the MLK speech that resonates the most with me....it has always caused me great stirring when I hear him say with reverence, 'I have a dream today......'  Those words alone are spoken with such conviction and determination that they make me have hope that they one day will come to be....even if around me the tattered and fractured reality of racial tension and economic divide still permeates our country, leaving me to feel that not only will we never be great again, but we actually have never been quite as great as we like to reminisce we were.

What would it be like to have that kind of purpose?  That kind of belief in not only your vision and yourself...but in the rallying of the folks around you. That kind of prophetic influence that caused a stirring in the souls of others, such that they began to cling to the hope that it just might be.

I guess we first would need to have a dream to begin with.  A dream that is outside of ourselves. I'm not judging dreams of a special vacation or a certain kind of job, of financial security or a fancy car.  I understand that our society feeds into that kind of dream being a primary focus. And I understand that many people want to enjoy the fruits of their labor. But I'm speaking more of a dream that truly moved beyond ourselves and would cause a ripple affect for the greater good? A dream that not only led to increase for you....but an elevation for those around you. And this dream didn't just exist because it was the trendy bandwagon to jump on...but instead was birthed out of  a desire to see your fellow humans flourish.

I challenge you today....that instead of romanticizing harmony and unity....that you truly allow yourself to see the brokenness that is around you. The forgotten fringe of our society that is all around us and recognize their humanity. Instead of finding the perfect quote that fits what you wish was...that you grieve for the dream of MLK that has not come to fruition.

And allow that grief to propel you into envisioning your own dream. That you might see and know the people around you. That you might seek to understand someone's struggle that is not your own. And that you might embrace ways that you can meet them in their struggle, even if it causes you discomfort.

I have a dream....that today will be the day that you truly see someone for the treasured gift they are....and how you can be a bright spot of light and love in their world....and thus see the spot of light and love they can be in yours.

That's what I got today.

The basement at Herman Crown Center

my freshman year of college I was a musical theatre/dance student at Roosevelt University. It was an incredibly amazing experience for me. my first time away from home. my first time not being a minority as a minority. my first friendships with openly gay humans. my first time learning how to do laundry. my first time going to class in my pajamas. my first time hanging over the roof of the university dangling over Michigan ave. after feeling like I didn't want to be away from my boyfriend and family I went home after only year. but the impact that the one year there in Chicago had....was mighty.

that year in life has been on my mind a lot lately. one particular memory actually.

the basement had small rehearsal rooms. music stands and pianos. and we spent a lot of time down there. craypas and tape cassettes....sheet music and tape recorders....in our jammies and stocking feet.  and we sang and cried and laughed and sang some more. those rooms represented a reprieve from the crazy. a sanctuary from judgment and critique....from self doubt and disconnect.  in those little rooms I belted out a song in front of other people in an intimate setting for the first time. I talked in silly voices, learned about being fully free and wrote and wrote and wrote. it wasn't just about the space...it was also the choice to venture there....to stop whatever we were doing and run, skip or dance to the basement.

I remember thinking that I was surrounded by such incredibly talented people. and I remember thinking that life would always be like this. grabbing a notebook and writing. finding a quiet place to create. letting all of my sorrow and angst and joy and exhilaration out. sitting with an odd, mismatched yet connected group of people who both understood me and knew nothing about me at the same time.

I've never had that same freedom of creativity since.  but i also know that i haven't created the margin for it either.

I have created since then. and although my path led me away from a career in the arts....I minored in musical theatre and dance in college. i taught dance class to littles for a brief season when my own kids were young. i have written for pleasure off and on over the years. and of course, i love singing and have irritated many a co-worker with that over the years.

other things have taken priority in my life. marriage, children, ministry, mental health needs, work....and while I've attempted to keep creativity in my world through leading worship at church....writing from time to time...singing when i get the chance....there's always been this missing piece.  this difficulty focusing. the inability to still see myself as a creative, artistic person.

the basement. or at least what the basement represented. is missing.

as i write this....I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to do with this epiphany.

but i would encourage you not to lose your basement.

and i believe that i need to find my basement. whatever that is, that can give me what the basement at HCC did.  freedom and space. time and devotion. confidence and ability. a reprieve from the crazy.

all of the sorrow and angst and joy and exhilaration is ready to pour out.

I'm Loving Me.

Today I was able to spend a few hours with 8 other women and just be.  We had coffee and breakfast goodies. We laughed and chatted and disagreed. We shared. And in that sharing we were able to see that while there are likely many many things about our lives that are different.  There are some things that are the same.  We want to be heard, to belong and to be loved.

I've been thinking about love a lot lately. I'm surrounded by a lot of love.  And yet, in the midst of that, it can be so easy to focus on the ways, times and places how, when and where I don't feel loved. 

It's a constant internal battle for me.  And it has always been.

I grew up with love all around me. But there was a critical spirit that permeated my soul.

You aren't good enough.
You aren't pretty enough.
You aren't smart enough.
You aren't.
Enough.

It's taken me decades to start to love myself. Honestly and unconditionally. Warts and all.  But I've started.

I withheld love from myself when I wasn't doing or being or acting the way that I felt I should.  If my house wasn't clean or if I feel behind at work or wasn't attentive enough to my husband or my kids, in my eyes...it was so easy to do. So easy to allow disappointment in myself lead to withholding love. Sometimes I still do.

A few things have inspired me to challenge that thinking.

1. I want to love myself the way my daddy loves other people. Seriously. I do not know anyone who loves as unconditionally or openly as this guy. For all the things he might have gotten wrong in his life or regrets he might have?  How he loves should NOT be one of them.  He just accepts what is. And loves just the same. It doesn't mean he might not get disappointed or frustrated. But it does absolutely nothing to change the love that he has.  If he loves you....even if he is angry with you, even if you have hurt him....he would give you the shirt off of his back if you needed it.  If he loves you, you do not ever doubt it. Ever.  I want myself to know that no matter what I do or don't do....where I excel or fail...I will love myself just the same. I am worth unconditional love. How high might I fly if I treasured myself?

2. I need to practice what I preach. For much of my 30s and 40s, I've been a strong advocate for women to learn how to love themselves. To learn that they shouldn't allow their self worth to be dictated by outside influences and that true love means accepting all of yourself. In teaching and coaching others to do this...I thought that I was there. I really did. And then these last few years have turned everything about my internal point of view upside down. It's been a culmination of so many things....things that will be another blog post on another day...but these things made it very clear to me that I did not honestly and unconditionally love myself.  My love was withheld when I was angry with myself. It was withheld when I was disappointed in myself or when I was feeling that I didn't deserve it. I tell other women all the time---be gentle with yourself. Be patient with yourself and forgive yourself.  Love.

3. Tomorrow is not promised. It's funny because I've always known this. But what's recently caused this thought to be a new inspiration is seeing my Grandma's health slowly fade. And witnessing the struggle that she's had with herself, with God, with dying, with her quality of life diminishing....it's inspired me in a new way to grab hold to each day, each moment and live fully and freely and full of love. Not just for others (which I really do try to do well) but for myself. Not to wait until things are just right or just how they should be. I need to love myself NOW.

Right now. I want to unconditionally love all of who I am. The tattered pieces and the mangled frays...the dark spaces and the hidden mazes...whether I'm empty or full, cowering or standing tall.

I am enough.
Love.