Diligent Joy Blog

Yoga kicked my butt today.  Ok, mostly my quads.  I hadn't been there in 3 weeks due to vacation, conflicts, etc., so I was more than ready to attend my regular Thursday morning yoga class filled with familiar faces, greet the instructor I've had for nearly 10 years, and enjoy the yoga routine I had missed.

There was a sub.

I walked in right as class was starting, so I quickly unrolled my mat, glancing around at...NO familiar faces in the room.  I had a moment of wondering if I'd the entire schedule had changed while I was gone--but it's just summer, and my instructor and over three-quarters of the regulars were on vacation.

Just as I was forming unconscious opinions about all of this, the new instructor invited us to let go of all we came into class with, including any thoughts or opinions.  Huh.  Let go of my opinions?  I decided to give it a go for the next 75 minutes.  It turned out not to be that hard. There was so much new and unexpected in the class that it took all I had for me to breathe and stay present.  Which turned out to be an awesome way to spend 75 minutes on a Thursday morning.

I've been CEO of "hit-the-ground-running enterprises" this week.  Upon return from our vacation, we literally left the van and boat, still packed to the gills, on the street while we rushed inside our house to quickly shower, change, and head off to a wedding.  The next day, we attended a special worship service and picnic at church, involving the Marshall Islands congregation who also uses our space.  Monday was all about the final preparations for a two-day retreat I was leading Tuesday and Wednesday for 32 teenagers.  I remarked that I felt like I had been sauntering through the airport and suddenly stepped on the moving walkway going at a much quicker clip.  It was all wonderful, celebratory, positive, life-giving stuff, and because I'd had an amazing vacation, I had energy and a great attitude with which to participate in it all. Still, I was more than ready to go to yoga this morning.

I am blessed to live a very full life--full of family, a stellar spouse, friends, engaging and meaningful work, spiritual growth, and a really fabulous dog.  What I've learned about myself (again) this month is how important it is to schedule down time; to give ourselves time to process and integrate all the blessings in our lives.

Saturday, our family will climb back in our van, which this time will be filled with the contents of one son's room to be moved across the state into a dorm.  What a marvelous opportunity to take time to integrate some of what our family has been and to dream about what it is growing into. 

The feeling of letting go of the last child is similar to the feeling I had when I walked into yoga this morning.  I don't know what to expect, but I trust the being in charge to guide me in a direction that will nourish my body, mind, and soul.  I just need to stay present and breathe.  And hope my quads will hold out.

 

Personal thoughts: one parent's reflections on transitioning to a spacious nester......

Today is a transition day at my house.  Fittingly, it is cool outside, but not too cold.  Raining, but not too hard.  And, it's the last day of class of my son's senior year in high school.

Since he is our youngest, I am feeling the transition on multiple levels.  Walking around what was a newish neighborhood when we moved in sixteen years ago, I noticed that what once were baby trees have matured.  They stand tall, bend in the wind, take the rain as nourishment, and continue growing.  Sure, they get bare and stark every winter, but they always, always bloom again come spring.

And here are my sons, once babies, now much matured, standing tall (literally--they are both over 6 feet), bending with the curve balls that occasionally come their way--they are young enough to have the flexibility to do that, and still bloom again.

I pulled up to the 4-way stop in the neighborhood yesterday, and a young man in a truck-type vehicle pulled up at the same time to my left.  He barely stopped before hurrying through the intersection.   I caught myself thinking, "Ah, youth.  I remember when I was always in a hurry."  Something was always urgent, and often times felt more important than anything anyone else could possibly have going on.

In that moment, I knew that I am, in the worlds of one of my favorite hymns, "in the middle ages of your life, not too old, no longer young....."

I take a breath.  I helped create,  with hard work and intention and the partnership of many, a family that is connected, has its own brand of humor, welcomes friends, nurtures growth, supports each other through rough times, celebrates together. 

As I let go of this time of active, daily parenting over the next few months, I breathe.  I think of yoga and the way we take time at the end of each class to integrate what we have done for our bodies, minds, and spirits.  Before I Iook forward to what I will create next, I plan to take time to integrate all that this part of life has been.  With that will come joy, and tears, celebration, and sorrow.  And for me, all this is important-- to acknowledge the transition before moving on too quickly to something else.

Adventure awaits.  But first, the uncertainty of transition and the gifts it has to give.  I breathe.  I notice.  I am grateful. 

Some personal thoughts on letting go.....

Yesterday, driving home from a college visit in Eastern Washington, I was overcome by the site of trees in bloom.  "Spring is so refreshing!" I said outloud to my sleeping family nearby.  We've had a particularly cold, gray spring this year in the Pacific Northwest, and yet, here were the trees, starting to bloom just like any other spring.  I was reminded of the line from "How the Grinch Stole Christmas."  The Grinch is pondering how the Whos down in Whoville could be celebrating when he took all their gifts.  "Somehow or other, it came just the same," he muses about Christmas.  And here was spring, coming just the same, even without the usual gifts of warmth and sun.

Earlier that day, I'd been clutching palms during Palm Sunday Mass at the student chapel at Gonzaga University.  I am not Catholic, but I wanted to attend, because it was Palm Sunday, and the priest who was giving the homily used to be on staff at my son's high school.  Plus, he's funny. 

I use the word "clutching" on purpose about those palm leaves, because as this amazing man was talking to us parents about our children going away to college, and joking about religion, and making analogies with Holy Week, and talking about discernment, and the greater good, and what's it all about anyway--I needed something to hold on to.  So, I clutched my palm leaves. 

Letting go for me is a process, fraught with tension, private and not-so-private tears, blessed moments of laughter and gratitude,  intermittent regret--all of which eventually result in an unfurling of metaphorical wings and a greater capacity for love and acceptance.  Hanging on to those palm leaves allowed me to let go of another piece of what my family has been so I can continue to move forward and embrace what it is becoming.

And it is becoming.  Much like the tender, vulnerable, new leaves of spring--quietly but persistently unfolding--my family is blossoming.  It won't look the same way it did last spring.  There are some things that have been uprooted to make more room for growth.  There are others that are bigger and stronger.  We need to prune a few things so more growing can continue.  My husband and I will need to learn how to live in this spacious nest.  It's not always a pretty process, and involves not a small amount of pain.  But like spring, our family will continue to grow and become what is next. 

And that is reassuring.

Hectic Holidays: Lesson #2

Create More Joy, Less Chaos
Lesson #2

This is the second article in a series designed to bring you tips to create more joy and less stress this Holiday Season—whether you are celebrating Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, winter solstice or are just caught up in the flurry of everyone else’s holiday madness.

Extra activities, demands, and obligations this time of year energize some people and stress others.  If you are one who is stressed consider these signs of stress overload from HelpGuide.org:
•    Constant worrying, or seeing only the negative
•    Inability to relax, feeling overwhelmed
•    Eating more or less
•    Isolating oneself
•    Using alcohol or other drugs to relax

While it may seem counter-productive to put one more thing on your to do list this week, taking a few minutes for this activity can help increase your sense of contentment, especially if you practice it regularly over time. 

Start today by keeping a gratitude journal—it can be a notebook or a pretty journal just for this purpose. 

Why would I tell you to do one more thing if you’re already overloaded?  Because research shows that training yourself to be grateful for what is currently in your life is one simple way to increase your happiness and satisfaction, and I want you to feel that instead of constant stress.
 
Here’s how you do it.  Upon wakening or before you go to bed (or even better—both, but hey, I’m realistic.  Just start with one or the other), write down 10 things for which you are grateful.  If you have trouble thinking of 10, start with five. If you are stuck, start with simple things like: “I am grateful for this bed in which I’ve slept.”  “I am grateful for the roof over my head.” “I am grateful there was hot water for the shower this morning.” “I am grateful for my children.”  Gradually, you might get to things like “I’m grateful I kept my temper with my son today.” “I’m grateful for my boss.”  “I’m grateful for the ability to spend time with family.”  Keep it up for at least 30 days and see what you notice. 

What’s the science behind why this works?  Our minds tend to notice more of what we focus on.  For instance, what type of car do you drive?  Many people report an increase in the number of vehicles they notice once they drive that vehicle.  I often say I had no idea how many silver vans there were in the world until I started driving one.  Now I see them everywhere. The same holds true with the gratitude journal.  If we spend a few minutes re-focusing our minds on those things for which we are grateful, we begin to see more of those things showing up in our lives.  They may have already been there; however, we notice them more, and consequently, feel more content.  And that’s something we can all use amongst the holiday bustle.

Next time:  priorities. 

Gratitude

Gratitude:  we hear a lot about it this time of year.  Count your blessings.  Be grateful for what you have.  Say one thing you’re thankful for before we eat. 

Here’s a twist on this concept for parenting.  Parents tell me this is the one thing I tell them to do that changes everything.

Think of your child.  If you have more than one, begin with the child that is the most challenging for you right now.  Get out a piece of paper, and list five things you love about that child.  They can be general (she is enthusiastic) or specific (I love the way his laugh sounds). 

Place the list where you will see it so that you read it every night before you go to bed and every morning before you start interacting with that child.  Then do an experiment and notice if anything changes for you over the next week or two.

If this is helpful to you, you can make a list for all of your children.  If you want to take it a step further, make one about your partner or spouse, if you have one.  And finally, make a list of five things you love about yourself as a parent.  Read these faithfully every night before sleeping and every morning before you interact with others.

Research shows that we notice more of what we focus on.  For example, what type of car do you drive?  Do you notice that make and model more now that you are driving it?   Many people say yes.  And it’s because it’s in the forefront of your mind more, so you notice more of those cars—not because there are all of the sudden more of them in your town. 

The same holds true with parenting.  It’s not a magic wand—however, if we focus on those attributes we love in our children, our spouse and ourselves, we are more likely to see them more often.  And that changes everything.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Bang!

The end of summer arrived with a bang at our house.  Perhaps "crack!" is more accurate.  My husband and I were watching The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, concentrating intently on reading the subtitled film, when the phone rang.

"Mrs. Johnson?" said my son's girlfriend.  "Uh oh," I thought.  The two of them and a few of their friends had headed up to Sky High, a popular trampoline/sporting center to have "one last summer fling."  I signed the waiver and sent them off with my usual words:  "Be safe, make good choices, and let me know if you have any fun."  I even thought ahead to have them designate a texter for the driver, a fabulous, brilliant young man who has a bad habit of texting while driving.

But this was not texting accident.  "[My son] was doing a flip into the foam pit and hit his eye.  It's swollen and bruised."

"Do we need to come up and meet you guys there?" I said.

"Well, we were thinking we probably should take him to the emergency room.  He's not looking too good."

"OK.  Good idea.  We'll meet you there," I said very calmly.

Sparing you too many gory details, this apparently very impressive double front flip resulted in 5 broken bones in my son's face, courtesy of his knee.  He spent several hours in the ER and a night in the hospital on an I.V. and with a pain pump.

At home the next day, his recovery progressed quickly.  Ice, rest, lots of attention (though I limited visitors), and lots and lots of prayers seemed to buoy his spirits, even if he couldn't yet open his eye. He even tried to get me to let him "stop by" a birthday party he was "supposed to go to."  No has become my favorite word.

I marvelled at his:

a) resilience

b) lack of life experience

c) lack of previous serious injuries (thanks be to God), and 

d) lack of pre-frontal cortex development

that all combined to create a much lesser sense of urgency and need for recovery in him than I had for him.  

All in all, I have had a few moments to reflect, in between doctor's appointments to confirm the healing is going well and there's  no permanent damage.  I am thankful I am one of the Americans who is blessed to have really great health insurance.  I am grateful for my husband who diligently works at the job that provides the health insurance.  I am blessed to have a son who has such a positive attitude and heals quickly.  And I am thankful to have the opportunity to chat with him about slowing down a bit.  It's his senior year in high school, that magical, pivotal year that rushes by so quickly.  Instead of cramming it full, I suggested, take some time to savor it, process it, enjoy it on a deeper level than rushing from one activity to the next.

Good advice, huh?  And some that many of us parents would do well to heed.  The parenting of our children rushes by, even though there are moments when it feels endless and relentless and we sigh our sighs and growl our growls and lament the consequences of adolescent brain development.  In the end, they will leave, one way or the other, and we will be left to assess what we did well and what could have gone better.  And to remain connected, respecting their adult status, and offering help when needed.

And so, I am practicing the savoring, too this year.  Even the stay in the hospital and visits to so many doctors I ended Tuesday fairly frazzled.  It's time to stay connected to family and friends, to reminisce and savor, to grieve and celebrate.  And live.  Fully, completely, and with as much awareness as I can muster.  Before I know it, this year will be over for me too.  Hopefully, we'll go out with a celebratory Bang! and no more cracks.

 

Attitude Adjustment

A local radio station has "attitude adjustment hour" programming designed to help people transition from work to home on weekdays.  Albeit, it's a marketing strategy, but a catchy one.  Who can't use an attitude adjustment once in awhile?

Yesterday, I needed one badly.  Feeling the stress of a full schedule and planning to be out of my office for a week, I found that my voice tone ended up much crankier and abrupt than intended.  I didn't feel I had room to relax and take my time with just about anything.

Fortunately for me, we had a swim meet to attend later in the afternoon, so after the frantic whirlwind of packing and getting us all in the car and to the meet, I proceeded to relax.  All that is required of me at the meets is to pass out some information to swimmers and then cheer for my son and his friends.  In between, I get to chat with friends.

I woke up this morning in a much better mood.  I had not gotten enough sleep, and my schedule still looked the same as it did yesterday, but my outlook was different.  After a walk in the early morning sun (a rare treat this summer in the Pacific Northwest!), I made a decision to cancel one phone meeting and make breakfast for my son after swim practice.  Heck, I thought, maybe he'd even like to invite a friend or two.

An hour later, a group of teens sat on my deck enjoying pancakes and juice, and throwing the ball for the dog. I take pleasure in being around these young people.  Any time I get together with the swim team teens, my youth group teens, my sons' friends, or really pretty much any group of teens, I feel happier.  I enjoy hearing their perspectives on things and being around their youthful, here and now energy.

Call me crazy, but what helps this cranky adult is a healthy dose of teenagers.

The point really isn't what helps me adjust my attitude, but that I become aware of it and act on it as needed.  What is your attitude adjustment secret?  A nap?  A walk in the sun?  A manicure?  Time with friends?  Gardening? Take a few minutes to think what it is that helps you switch gears amidst all the insanity of everyday life--what puts you back into human being mode instead of human doing mode?

All my husband needs is a little Jimmy Buffet.  One of his songs, Changes in Latitudes, has a chorus that goes like this:

It's these changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes

Nothing remains quite the same

With all of our running and all of our cunning

if we couldn't laugh we would all go insane

Here's hoping you can gain some latitude with a new attitude!

Give Me an "A"!

We pull into the rental car lot to return the car that we have spent way too many hours in during the past week.  Ahead of us is a young family with a little girl staring into space with that "What am I doing up this early?!" expression I probably have, too.

Turns out, they are on the same shuttle we are to the airport, and even cite the same airline to the driver.  As we exit the bus in front of the airport, this seemingly mild-mannered mother, with limp blond hair and a somewhat mousy appearance, shouts, "SH*T!"  She turns around and in a loud voice (perhaps so we can all purposely hear her or perhaps I'm just nosy) says, "HE left the car seat in the car, so he'll need to go back with you."  Bummer, I think.  I empathize, since I've left stuff in rental cars before, and have been equally as stressed traveling with young children while exhausted from short nights of not enough sleep.

As our family drags our luggage over, up, and across to the terminal, the woman's voice follows.  She is narrating the situation....to her daughter?  The 3-year-old right next to her?  Seems to me it may be for public benefit (or again, maybe I'm just that sleep deprived that I'm inappropriately listening to this conversation) that she continues, "Daddy forgot your car seat and had to go back and get it." (Read I didn't forget the car seat....) I wonder if this is a contract they have:  Ok, you're in charge of the car seat, and I'm in charge of what goes in the car seat (a/k/a sleepy daughter).  Or is it one of those unspoken "understandings" most couples have but that trip us up at the most inopportune moments?  (My dad *always* took care of the car seat!  or You've always taken care of the car seat before....).  She continues to narrate loudly, "We need to go over here and wait for Daddy and the car seat he went back for."

You may be wondering why I put so much thought into this.  I don't know, really. Maybe it was the empathy I felt for this mom and my younger self, in my more self-conscious days as a parent of young children...

We get to security (I vow to get a new carry on bag so this process does not involve wrestling a laptop) and get to the gate where I strike up/continue a conversation with a woman we met yesterday on a college tour at the University of San Diego.  Daddy shows up with the car seat.  There is a (I'm not proud of this thought) disappointing lack of drama about it all. I think maybe he deserves some appreciation for the extra trip back to the car rental place in the shuttle all alone with the driver, hearing Mommy's voice in his head.  I imagine the Gate Attendant on the PA in an Ed McMahon tone:  "Ladies and gentlemen, seated today in row 10, it's Daddy--who has already today, before 8:00 in the morning, successfully retrieved a forgotten car seat from the rental car place AND made it to the gate in time to relax with his daughter before boarding!  Let's hear it for Daddy!" 

As we board the plane and head north, I'm left thinking that perhaps we all need a little more appreciation in our lives--just for making it through some days.  So go ahead, borrow Ed McMahon's voice in your head for a minute.  Think about something you did today--could be something you do every day--but something that no one really appreciated.  Hear that, "Heeeere's YOU!  Deserving of appreciation for _______________________!  Let's hear it, folks!"  Wild applause.  Aw shucks. Thank you.  Thank you very much.  I'll be here all week......

Contentment

Both my yoga teachers have been discussing santosha, or contentment, this week in class. One asked how you would practice this and my hand shot up. "I've got this!" I thought.  "You can keep a gratitude journal.  You can reach for a better thought when you feel discontent, " I said confidently.

As is often the case in my life, once I'm pretty sure I've got something down, I receive opportunities to obtain a deeper understanding.  In other words, since that class, I've been plagued by an underlying and vague sense of, you guessed it, discontentment.

I do have a gratitude practice, and regularly list and feel deeply grateful for all I have and experience in my life.  I have begun a practice of reaching for another thought when I am not content or happy--I mean, really, they are just thoughts, and I can think another one, right?

Sometimes, this is much easier said than done.  Sometimes, those better thoughts seem as illusive as my understanding of the difference between a triple lutz and a triple salchow in figure skating.  My thoughts seem to skitter along the ice of my mind like those funky dance steps in the short routine, but somehow, I don't feel my inner judge is awarding the same kind of points for turns and changes of directions that the figure skaters in the Olympics receive.

While watching the figure skating last night, I was folding laundry.  Here was a menial task which offered me the opportunity for contentment.  I looked at the pieces of clothing and linen I was folding.  Hello, friends, I thought to them.  Nice to see you again this week in the clean basket.  Thank you for serving our family.  

Other times, I wonder if my challenge is to be content with my discontent (deep, I know).  But really, do I want to be content with the state of poverty, health care, and job loss in our country?  Do I really want to be content that my country continues to send young men and women to two wars, and many do not come back alive, or healthy?  Do I want to be content with the inconsistent and incompetent delivery of sexuality education to our youth?  Nope.  I don't.  In these instances, my contentment comes from being discontent and advocating for change.

Yesterday, a friend recommended this video to some of us involved in a leadership class.  It's called "Validation," but I think it's also about one road to contentment.  Watch it and wonder, where is your focus?  Contentment is often obtainable if we simply adjust the focus on the camera lens through which we are viewing life.  Occasionally, though, this takes perseverance, soul-searching, and yes, a period of hanging out in discontent.

Life Scout

It's probably the last time I'll sit in this room for a family event.  A church fellowship hall, not even our own, but one quite familiar, nonetheless.  Memories come flooding back.  Mother's day tea ceremonies.  Parachute games.  Preschool festivities.  Preparing snack in the kitchen.  Providing parent education in this very room.  Preschool auctions.  And then scouts.  Scout meetings. Advancement.  Courts of Honor.

That's why we are here tonight.  One last Court of Honor for a son receiving his Life Scout Rank.  We sit amidst a room filled with awkward boys of various ages between 11 and 17, with parents there to support their sons' accomplishments.  With adults willing to take their Friday nights and more to support this troop of awkward preadolescent and adolescent young men.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when the troop seemed on the verge of extinction.  I recall the time my husband spent as Scoutmaster, dedicated, with a few other men and women, to do what they could to keep the troop alive.  Recruitment, open houses, encouraging boys, setting structure, standards, camping trips, and creating traditions.  They succeeded in recruiting several boys, and even more importantly, a few parents who were willing to step into leadership roles, and keep the troop going.  As I sit in the room tonight, dramatically overdressed for this occasion in anticipation of a dinner out for Valentine's Day afterward, I am aware that none of these young men would be here were it not for the time and effort of a few dedicated men years ago.

And that is the way of it.  We do what we do for our children, but also for those who come after.  Rarely are we afforded the opportunity to see the fruits of our efforts in arenas like these, yet here we are, and it is evident that it was all worth it, not only for our child, but for everyone else in the room.

The boys, young men (or as my cousin calls males of this age, "manlets") receive their merit badges and ranks.  When it is our turn, his dad and I accompany our son to the front of the room to receive his award, which consists of a patch for my son and a mother's pin for me, fittingly this weekend of Valentine's Day a heart for his rank of Life Scout.  People clap, and I am proud, once again, of what he has done to achieve this award, and that there is a place for young men to be honored for advancing in their accomplishments in life.

Having talked with a colleague this week about a young adult we had recently met who had been arrested in a large sweep of gang members in a nearby town, I am acutely aware of how important it is to have places for young men to gather, do politically incorrect things like play with sticks, punch each others' arms, laugh at off color jokes, camp out and avoid showering for days at a time, play with fire, scare each other, be lamely macho together--and be given kudos for it all by the adults who supervise it all and make sure there is a lesson to be learned, camaraderie to grow, and a code of honor and belonging for each and every boy in the troop.

An adult leader asks what the boys remember from their time at camp as Cub Scouts, and a chorus of boys shout out the name one of our older son's best buddies--a young man we have known since kindergarten, who is an Eagle Scout and now studying to become a physician at a local university. While I don't share every value with the Boy Scouts of America, I am grateful for what they have provided not only my boys, but those in our community. 

As we leave, shaking hands and thanking those who carry the mantel forward, I feel we are moving onward in a stream of parents who have come before us, and will follow where we've been.  It is good and right that we are where we are.  I bless those who paved the way for us, and silently shine a blessing on those who follow. 

Who knows where this road will take us all, but it is good that we are on the road, fellow travelers, supporting one another, and making a way for those in need.  There is much work left to be done, and thankfully, we are not alone.