These words from a recent message keep echoing through my mind:

The past is not ours to change. 

The future is not ours to see.

There is only one call that God extends.

It is here.

And it is now.

–Rev. J. Douglas Paterson

Makes me wonder, regardless of our faith tradition:

Are we too caught up in the past, future, or self to notice what’s happening here and now?   

What are we doing here and now to make the world a better place?

How do I discern what I should be doing, here and now?

Listening for that still small voice in the cacophony (or symphony?) of the world. . .

Everywhere I go, people are trying to find balance. 

Whether it’s work/life balance, time/money balance, food/fitness balance, you name it, balance is the answer.  If we only had balance, everything would be Okay. 

So, do you know anyone who has found it yet? Someone who has actually achieved balance and sustained it?

After years of striving for that elusive point of balance, I’m starting to wonder if we’re searching for the wrong thing. In fact, maybe it’s just plain unnatural to stay balanced.

Consider a good old fashioned teeter totter.  Remember those?

Those teeter totters (or seesaws, another technical term) are fun to ride, aren’t they?  Why?  We enjoy the thrill of the ups and downs. It wouldn’t make any sense to sit on one, balancing in the middle.  That would be boring, and if you think about it, weirdly controlling and stressful.   There’s a bit of risk — bumping at the bottom or flipping off the top — but you don’t get the thrill unless you jump on and let the ride do its thing. 

For some reason, we don’t have teeter totters on playgrounds any more.  I guess they’re not safe enough.  We can’t guarantee bad things won’t happen on a teeter totter.   They do. But without them, we miss some excitement. 

I’m beginning to think of life as a big multi-axis teeter totter.  There are moments of balance, but they’re fleeting, and if we’re not centered we might spin off the axis.   Having a center is important.  Still, most of the time we’re floating back and forth, transitioning from one extreme to the other.   We can’t completely control it, because other people are riding the teeter totter too.  That’s okay.  The highs and lows help us appreciate life.

Sometimes I wonder if we’re spending too much energy trying to control everything in the middle — keep it perfectly balanced — and in the process, we miss all the fun. 

I think it’s time to jump back on and enjoy the ride, even if we hit a bump or two.

What do you think?  Are you tired of searching for that perfect balance point?

***

Check out Teeter Talk, written by a guy in my hometown who interviews local celebrities on his backyard teeter totter.  What fun! 

Or see my earlier post on flux and flow for another “unbalanced” metaphor. 

***

photo credits: liber , John Brownlow

I might be having an identity crisis. 

It hit me in the midst of an amazing Vienna Teng concert at our local hot spot The Ark, for so many different reasons. 

Vienna’s performance moved me.  She’s so talented, so sharp, so lyrical and poignant–you MUST check out her music.  She sings of intimate personal issues as well as major world events in a smart way that leaves interpretation up to the listener.  So I started interpreting, and suddenly, the whole concert was all about ME, of course.

I know that sounds crazy (and egocentric), but you see, Vienna went to my same university, so it got me thinking about my view of the world back then.  Like any college student, I had my whole life in front of me– a blank slate with so many options.  I wanted to do it all and honestly believed that I could.  She sang a beautiful song about world and life-changing events including the fall of the Berlin Wall, where I lived for a few months.   It was a powerful time in my life, when I first traveled the world, discovered my independence, and fell in love with a boy back home all at the same time.  Then she wrapped up with Grandmother’s Song, which starts out sounding like an old-fashioned honky tonk and finishes with a powerful message about pursuing a woman’s dreams.  It was perfect.  I loved it.

But after we got home, I blubbered like a baby.  My poor husband was so confused. 

I think I was mourning the young woman I used to be, the dreams I used to hold dear, and the passions I pursued.  Now let me be clear:  I love my life today.  I’ve been shaped and refined by the twists and turns, I don’t regret any choices we’ve made, and I wouldn’t go back if I could.  Life has led me in a direction very different from what I expected, and the blessings have been greater than I could imagine. 

I must admit, though, that there are pieces of me that I’ve pushed aside through these last few seasons of life.  And I feel like it’s time to reconnect with some parts of the me I used to be.  No, not all–I’m happy to leave a few parts by the wayside–but yes, some.

I’m reading a great book that speaks to this and much more:

Mama’s Got a Fake I.D.:  How to Reveal the Real You Behind All that Mom by Caryn Dahlstrand Rivadeneira.  She writes from a Christian perspective, but I think the issues about motherhood and cultural identity are universal.  As I work my way through this book, I hope to share with you some thoughts along the way.  Stay tuned.

For now, do you mourn parts of the person you used to be?  If so, come along the journey and let’s work it out together.   Tell me what you think.

A post-it to add to my fridge, asked by a wise mentor mom a couple of years ago:

How much fun am I

to live with?

It’s a good antidote to the hen-pecking. 

That’s all.  How much fun are you today?

photo credit: demi-brooke

I laughed at the ridiculousness of it and how far we have come since those days.  But in some sense, I cried at the irony, because there have been times when I’ve felt almost that separated from the world of business for which I trained.   Not directly from family or friends, but subtle messages from the world at large. 

Carla Barnhill speaks of the church’s pressure on mothers in The Myth of the Perfect Mother.  I’ve been ruminating (one of my new favorite weird words) on her message.  Some of it hit home for me and some seemed a little far-fetched.  As soon as I process my thoughts, I’ll write more.  If you’re interested, join Carla and her friend Caryn’s thought-provoking conversations at The Mommy Revolution. 

In the meantime, enjoy.  Does something in this video strike a chord with you?

************************************

on flux

What do I mean by “flux of life”? 

From the Free Online Dictionary:

flux (fluks) n.  1. a. A flow or flowing.  b. A continued flow; a flood.  2. The flowing in of the tide

 

As a child, I anticipated a straight path to success.  I was an ambitious girl, coming of age in the 80s, believing I could “do it all.”  I dreamed of being queen of the corporate world and a beautiful family.  Then reality rushed over me.  In reality, my life has flux-ed through the seasons:

college:  a river of rapids and whirlpools–turbulent, challenging, exciting, invigorating

20s/early marriage:  forging a new stream, building my flow, enjoying a rising tide

working mom of two babies:  an unexpected flood.  trying to keep my head above water.  struggling to balance.  gratitude in surviving.  reluctant to get out of the exciting waters.

baby number three:  time to move out of the flood zone and crawl up on the banks.  watching the career stream flow by.  seeking stiller waters.  finding a new stream. 

 mom of three young ones:  depending on the day, a varying flux–a steady drip, like water torture (not my metaphor), raging rapids, floods, or flowing tides. 

today–three kids in school, flexible work:   feeling more buoyant.  negotiating a new stream.  anticipating more “flux” to come.

Along the journey, I fluctuate.  Sometimes I struggle.  Sometimes I know my choices are right.  As I adapt and evolve, sometimes I wonder whether I’m losing—or finding?—my true self.  Is this maturity, or weakness?  The blessings are abundant, but different from what I expected.  Can I ever go back to my original plans?  Do I want to?   In which stream do I want to row?

The flux metaphor works for me as I flow through life’s seasons.  How does it resonate with you? 

Oh, what a difference a split second makes! 

Yesterday, I was cruising through my Christmas errands:  picking up this, dropping off that, baking up this, shipping off that, stopping by here, shopping by there, and transporting people from place to place.  A light snow fell, promising a white morning blanket and lifting my Christmas spirits.  I was “on”:  energetic, cheerful, and embracing the season with joy.  I squeezed in one last thing before heading home, swinging my car into a great parking space (score!).  As I pranced across the parking lot,

splat. 

I found myself flat on my back, keys flung across the lot, wind knocked out of me, and not quite sure how to get myself up again.  I slowly eased up, practicing my old Lamaze breathing through the pain, and climbed (sort of) onto my feet.  No one was around except a rough-looking man on a smoking break who walked over to check on me.  He showed kindness by finding my keys, helping me up and making sure I was able to walk.  He said, “hey, I know back injuries, so take it easy, okay?”  I shuffled through my last errand and headed home, grateful for the very short drive.

I’ve lived in Michigan 17 years, and I’ve never fallen that hard on the ice.  I saw stars and my lower back throbbed.  I could still move gingerly, so I didn’t think I was seriously injured, but I was scared it was going to get worse.  I positioned myself flat on the floor, my sweet dog snuggling up to me, and just waited for my hubby to come home.

So much for productivity. 

Today, thanks to lots of ibuprofen (the wonder drug), I’m doing okay, but I’m creaking around like an old lady.  Every move, such as putting on one’s socks, takes considerable thought and deliberation.  So I must find a new rhythm for the next couple of days.  Some things must go.

This little experience has made me wonder a few things:

1. Was this meant to happen?  To get me out of “doing“, and into “being“?  Today I recline, enjoying my beautiful tree, and sort out what really needs to get done.  Last night, the kids gathered around my nest and we just talked for a good while.  A blessing.
2. Was the man who helped me in the parking lot some sort of angel?  Perhaps not, but it’s fun to believe he was.
3. Does this get me out of sending “a couple dozen cookies” to every holiday event?  How liberating!  What conspiracy decided every mother needed to bake forty dozen cookies to distribute around town in December?  Who eats all of those cookies, anyway?  Is this really a good thing?  This might merit a separate post.

As my meds kick in this morning, I’m thinking my little “splat” experience might have been a blessing in disguise.  I’m grateful my injury seems to be stiff, aching, muscles, not severe damage.   So I sit (recline) in my living room, looking for the gifts to add to my list.

What about you?  What might help you “be” rather than “do” this season?

photo credit: Great Beyond

My second grader bursts through the door after getting off the bus, wrestling to break free of her backpack, coat, boots, gloves, etc. before she runs inside.  I’m sure she desperately needs to use the bathroom, so I step aside to make way.  Instead, she rushes straight to the phone, frantically scrolling through the caller id to find a friend’s number. 

“What on earth are you doing?” I ask.

“I have to call Courtney,” she says, “quickly!” 

I finally realize she’s trying to call this friend before she makes arrangements with someone else.  It’s been coming up more often lately.  A gaggle of second grade girls in our neighborhood are competing–in the ways girls do best–for playdates, bus seats, recess time, and other little ways.  Sigh.

This is her only “free” day this week, so I forego my usual after school requirements of homework, piano practice, and chores to let her finish the call.

“Hi, this is K.  Can Courtney play? . . . Oh, ok.  Maybe next time.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“She’s already playing with Lora.”

Oh.  Wow.  I can feel her disappointment.  We talk about other friends she can call, which she tries without success.  I make her a snack, talk about the day, and try to make light of it.  I suggest she try organizing a play date for tomorrow, so it won’t be such a rush.  It doesn’t take. 

My heart aches.  How can this be starting so early?  I want her to be carefree, to not let her happiness depend on the availability of others, to not care so much about nailing a playdate with this one girl, today.  I’m really not too concerned about K’s ability to make friends, and these are friendly, compassionate girls, but I can just see the cliques and social dynamics, the intense desire to belong, already.   Yikes.  Junior high all over again.  At seven. 

What should I have said to help her understand that she can have fun without competing for friends?  What should I have done?  Make it an issue, or let it go?

She seems to be over it, so I let it go.  I take advantage of the moment to rush to my laptop.  I need to write a post to submit to that weekly carnival.  I want to post it right when ”Mr. Linky” goes up so I can be listed early and not be forgotten in the crowd.  If I do, more people will click on my link, and more people will visit my blog, and maybe they’ll write a comment or two.  Because it’s really important to build up your readership if you’re going to be a “real” blogger, or journalist, or writer, or wherever this path is taking me.  Right? 

Then is hits me.  Oh.  Wow.  Like daughter, like mother. 

Maybe we all have a bit of growing up to do.

photo credit: mms0131

You might not be caught up in the economy issues (yet!), but I just wanted to share a few insightful articles on the view from our neck of the woods:

Cindy La Ferle on bailouts and jumpstarts

Mitch Albom’s fantasy “If I had the floor at the auto rescue talks”

Mitt Romney discussing why the Big Three needs help restructuring. He disagrees with the bailout, but does have some valid points — and most comforting to me — a little optimism for the future.

And in case you missed it, a personal view from home .

Just doing my tiny part to add a little perspective.  Complex issues.  No easy answers.  Respectful feedback welcome.

photo credit: Mike Licht, NotionsCapital.com

NPR’s Jon Hamilton sums it up like this:

“Multitasking causes a kind of brownout in the brain. Meyer says all the lights go dim because there just isn’t enough power to go around.”

Yikes!

I don’t like hearing this.  Even if I kind of knew it was true. 

I like multitasking.  I like to consider myself a multitasking master.    I take pride in the fact that I can write this post while listening to music, brewing my coffee, getting my kids ready for school, eating breakfast, checking my email, reviewing today’s news, running the laundry, and even saying a quick prayer here and there. . . just like many of you. 

I don’t think I could get through the day without multitasking.  It’s necessary.  It makes me feel powerful.  Useful.  Creative.  Smart.  Efficient. 

Right? 

Maybe. . . not so much.   Science shows it isn’t really possible to focus our brains on mutliple things at once and do them all well. 

Especially when a ball drops, and everything comes tumbling down.  

Last week I had a few of those moments.  I was trying to keep multiple family demands, work assignments, and volunteer commitments afloat.  I should have let something go or asked for help so I could focus on the most important ones.  But instead, my pride took over, and balls started dropping.  It wasn’t a huge avalanche, but I realized things were not fully under my control.  

Kind of like a brownout.  A warning.  If I keep overloading the circuits, a major outage may be imminent. 

 I believe these warnings serve a purpose.  No matter how skillfully I multitask , there are times when I need a little help.  A flicker of the lights to make me slow down, connect, and rely on others.  I ease back into community, where humans rely on one another.  And perhaps I clear a channel for those prayers to be really voiced and heard. 

What about you?    Have you had a brownout lately?  What helps you focus on what matters?