Learning Along The Way

Messy Confessions of a Lonely Perfectionist

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It’s not often that I am publicly transparent. There is a small circle who help hold me both accountable and together depending on the issue. But transparent for the world? Yikes!  (I promise I’m not going to say or do anything that will make you feel like I do watching Michael Scott manage The Office. So read on.)

Reading the work of Brene Brown has moved my personal growth forward by leaps and bounds. Her second book, The Gifts of Imperfection jolted me into the hard journey forward out of shame.

I am slow to integrate and apply what I learn. I read that in 2010 when it was published. Sheesh. You think I’d have moved on by now.

The Hubster and I joined her e-course this spring: Living Brave. The course is based on her two latest books: Daring Greatly and Rising Strong.  (The course is more than worth the tuition, compared to the quality of the content.)

Enough back story. Why does this matter?

I learned that I am a Perfectionist. (A therapist told me that years ago but I didn’t believe her because I’m not perfect. I didn’t quite get the concept obviously.)

Being a Perfectionist is a broken way of living causing me to isolate, resulting in loneliness. Here’s the deal: when I am struggling with something I keep it to myself rather than ask for someone to listen to my heart. I tell myself things like I don’t want to be a burden or they don’t have time for me or they don’t need to hear all my issues.

It’s been almost 3 years since we moved to a different region of the state and I found myself needing to build community. I am typically a there for others kind of person; when they need something I make myself available to listen. But I rarely let my guard down to share how hard life is for me. (Ridiculous I know)

Is it pride that makes me a Perfectionist? Probably in part. It goes deeper than that.  As a child and teen any mistake I made was met with harsh ridicule and a command to do better or be better.  Less than an A or being president of every organization I took part in was tantamount to failure.

Hard to be vulnerable under pressure like that. So I developed the habit of “soldiering on”.

Not only is being vulnerable hard, it’s risky. People might not accept me if I have needs. This soldiering thing is a lonely burden. And I’m tired of it.  I want to be free of the mindset of needing to appear like I have all my ducks in a row.

Brene tells me that I need to Dare Greatly. Which is to say, be Vulnerable, which means Risking and Braving and probably Falling and all kinds of messy yuck.

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I already know the alternative. Loneliness. Isolation. Shame. Living in the land of Not Enough.

Blegh.

Risk Vulnerability or Stay Lonely.

I know I’m not the only one dealing with this dichotomy.  This is messy business but I’m daring to share this confession here.

Breaking the pattern one piece at a time.

 

 

Why Seeking Clarity is Like Hunting Unicorns

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I’m ending an eight year search for something illusive and perhaps mythical—clarity for my next season of life. The search began when Deep Grief bullied its way into my life. I’ve written about that here; no need to dwell there. Today’s focus: learning along the Way.

Clarity isn’t a thing to pursue, a place to arrive or a point on your calendar. There aren’t six steps to accomplish or a course to take with a certificate of completion.

Clarity searched for in those ways harkens to looking for unicorns.

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Clarity dawns when taking an action step. The steps look different for all of us; moving forward, trying something new, remain the critical factors.

In 2008 I began the illusive search for clarity. I made a rapid and unplanned exit from my position as teacher and co-director at SLO Classical Academy.  Disorientation and lots of questions overwhelmed me. My search for clarity took a circuitous route; listening to two voices of therapy and coaching helped uncover common threads in my life that I clung to in my disorientation. I used those threads to begin a new garment for the new season.

After two years of pursuit I gained certification as a life coach. This accomplishment didn’t usher in the clarity I sought.

I sought purpose; not something simply to keep me busy in the impending empty-nest season. I battled internal gremlins voicing lack of worthiness for my out of the box choice career choice. Yet as I worked with clients, common phrases began to surface; phrases affirming the presence I offer them and the gift of listening well.

I love working with people as they seek next steps in their journeys.  Inner life questions of purpose and calling can feel mysterious. Learning to ‘let your life speak’ as Parker Palmer so eloquently writes, allows search and discovery of common threads woven through your life.

Seeking clarity is not the same.

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We’re promised light for the next step; a lamp unto our feet and a light to our path. We will hear a quiet whisper that tells us this is the way walk in it.  But clarity is a modern construct and remains illusive like the hunt for unicorns.

I spent years seeking clarity; crying out to God for discernment, not wanting to waste the precious time I have left here. No beacon illumined my path; no voice from on high spoke light into my darkness.  Had I missed a memo? Was my faith fractured?

Clarity showed itself as I took one step at a time. Clarity revealed itself as I climbed steep paths, looking back to see the evident clues along the Way.  Clarity continues to show up as I take a step of faith on undefined paths following the Leader as He calls me forward.

Clarity is not impossible or imaginary like hunting unicorns.  But similar to the mythical unicorn, clarity is not a thing to be achieved; it reveals itself rather than submitting to a dogged pursuit.

In what area of your life have you been hunting for clarity?

Purpose? Career? Relationship?

I’d love to help make your search shorter.

Why 10 Isn’t Enough

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This summer I’m engaging with one passage of the gospel of Matthew. Yep. Just one.

For 10 weeks I have purposed to dig deeper into one passage, phrase by phrase.

“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

Context

History

Audience

Original Languages

Cultural References

Cross References

All in effort to unpack what Jesus told His listeners (which includes us).

Sometimes the most familiar is overlooked.  We know but we don’t see.

Like Mall Confusion. You see everything and nothing at the same time. Lots of noise, people, lights, smells and it’s all overwhelming.  Reading through a familiar passage of the Bible can be like Mall Confusion.  All and Nothing at the same time.

Unless you slow. your. pace.

10 weeks. One phrase a week. Working to memorize in a different version than I know, to be able to see it again.

Week 6…”learn from Me…”What does that even look like? Learn from Jesus? Of course the curious among us do this:

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Learn from Jesus. Google has some interesting hits with that one.  The top 3 were very helpful giving me a total of 36 different things I can learn from Jesus right off the bat. If I take one a day starting today it will be 5 weeks from now when I’ve finished just looking at the things I can learn from Jesus.  That doesn’t include the time it will take me to actually learn them. To get each thing into my bones kind of learning.

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That’s why 10 weeks isn’t enough. I’m pretty sure I can spend the rest of my life learning from Jesus.

Oh. Right.

Learning Along the Way.

Want to join me? I’d be happy to share what I’ve been learning. Let me know in the comments. Or message me on Facebook.

3 Tools for Fighting Shame

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At 19 I recognized the Hallmark card sentiments didn’t match the relationship my mother and I experienced.  Her hard comments spoken without witness; the movable measuring stick to let me know how I performed in her eyes; the lack of spoken love or approval. Hard stuff for a sensitive kid like me.

 

People told me “how proud your mother is of you” but I didn’t hear those words. Later when I became a mother she found value in me for her grandson (and later grandsons). She wrote a note in my Mother’s Day cards telling me I was a good mom, but no spoken words were shared.

I lived with the echo of an empty Mom love tank for 50 years, trying to earn favor along the way and then 7 years ago she died . The empty tank echo bounces around in my heart; sometimes faint, sometimes loud.  In the midst of a loud bounce recently I made a choice.  On a plane ride across the country to spend Mother’s Day with my mother – in – law, I stopped my downward spiral of woeful thoughts & memories. Instead I forced myself to compile a list of 10 positive characteristics my own mother instilled in me.

Taking time to think things through

Love of Words

Love of Reading

Serving people

Education & Life-long Learning

Kitchen Savvy

Love of Travel

Overcoming Adversity

Appreciation of Fashion

Care for those less fortunate than me

These are GREAT characteristics that I possess thanks to my Mother.  In spite of not hearing the words or feeling she loved me, she invested in my growth & character in many ways.

Tool #1: speak what is True

Lies can blur Truth but Truth dispels lies.

She did care or she would not have instilled these traits in me. In spite of her influence I’m one of the Dream Followers and Servers that Glennon of momastery referred to way back in her blog history (two years ago).  I am messed up and do not have it all put together. I laugh, cry and sometimes want to run away from my life. If I had it all put together I would forget where I put it because I’m post-menopausal now, so gray hair and foggy memory are a part of daily life. Oh Well.

Those are two words my dearest Hubster taught me to say 25 years ago after we married.

Oh Well.

Tool #2: see what is True

Admitting mistakes as part of life frees the hold of shame.

I bear the marks of shame and of being not enough in my mother’s eyes.

Oh well.

Perhaps that is what has made my own mothering such a sacred gift: looking at my sons as MORE THAN ENOUGH helped me grow in identity: who they are, how they’re wired paired with who I am and who I am becoming.

Tool #3: cling to what is True and let go of the rest

The Way out of Shame has been a battle and I bear scars from other woundings along the Way. I’m working at letting go of the lie of perfectionism and learning to lean into the Truth that I am loved and have a place at the Table. Just. Because.

Philippians 4:8 spells these tools out: Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable,– if anything is excellent or praiseworthy– think about such things.

Some days are harder than others. But I am learning to see myself as okay in this messy middle and fight back with JOY. There’s such great freedom in this posture.

Anybody want to come out and play?

Tying Off Threads and Weaving in New

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I mentioned the other day that I have been reading two amazing books. Why are they amazing, you ask?

The words change me.

Writing is a form of communication at it’s simplest form. But when words convey meaning and meaning gets into the heart and soul of the reader, then impact and change can happen.

Margaret Feinberg is that writer.

In two of her books I’ve recently read she has masterfully conveyed meaning that goes deep; deeper than simply reading the stories.  She gets to the heart.

With a tag line “Celebrate more, Regret Less, Stare Down Your Greatest Fears” you might respond with  curiosity at least. But the title itself gives purpose to the tag line.

Fight Back with JOY.

The red balloon on the cover was enough for me. I was curious.

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I have had my share of brokenness to navigate. In this current season my waters are calm but they’re swirling for others. I recognize my part in this season is encourager; the role of Aaron and Hur coming alongside Moses to support him in prayer.

Margaret writes from first person experience of the dreaded diagnosis: Cancer. Her words are raw and purposeful. She shares the journey of truly fighting back with JOY in the midst of an incredibly dark and grueling season.

The beauty of her words floats above the bleak wasteland that must be navigated in the battle with cancer. There is no glossing over the realities; no pretending life is other than. Margaret tells it like it is and yet doesn’t leave us being overwhelmed with sorrow for her. She masterfully shows the struggles of others, not only with cancer, but within the struggles of the human condition. Fight Back with JOY presents tangible acts that bring humor, light and abiding joy into her days. And ours.

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Her words are rays of light piercing the dark cloth covering my heart; the bitterness that has surrounded me for far too long. I’ve written of loss that is not unique to me, yet how we are in any loss is what matters most. I saw in Margaret’s responses how I had allowed this darkness to settle around me; I had accepted this shroud as part of the grief process. The Light shining through the holes in the weave was just enough for me to see the Lies I had accepted as truth.

Oh my goodness. Scripture speaks of not allowing a root of bitterness to take hold lest many be defiled. But let me tell you, apart from Light revealing where those lies have taken hold, I was blind to what I was accepting into my life: the less than and bound up life.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free; Stand firm then and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.

Jesus invites us to freedom. In fact His entire life, death and resurrection secured us freedom.

 “Come to Me ALL you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

I have been subjected again to a yoke of slavery: the yoke of bitterness toward those who had actively wounded me and those who by their inaction had inflicted wounds. My battlefield was real although not with cancer. Yet I had allowed darkness to shroud the fullness of life that is mine in Christ.

Fight Back with JOY speaks into those places. Margaret shows me tangible options for dealing with the real hurts.

And I am choosing to act. No more sitting under the shroud of shame and bitterness. Not only have I clipped the black threads but they’re tied off! I’m beginning to weave in new, colorful threads of JOY.

Doing unexpected things for people. Singing again. Dancing and twirling when I used to sit still.  Yes twirling.

From these new threads of color and JOY I already see how God has been working in preparation for my response to Him.

JOY is possible. JOY is available. JOY is not simply a feeling but a result; a Way.

Margaret leads out in showing the Way to know God more deeply, to let go of the bitterness that can creep in, to actively Fight Back with JOY.

Don’t you want that in your life?

Watch this preview video of Margaret’s Bible study.

 

Anyone want to join me in this?

Clipping Threads

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I’m reading two books simultaneously; one for an upcoming course and one just because. Both are written in memoir style, masterfully weaving others’ stories with the author’s personal story. Both written by strong, successful women. Both authors have faced hard circumstances in each of their lives; none of which anyone could say, “oh that’s no big deal; why do you think that’s hard?”  I’m personally awed and challenged by their ways of responding to their respective circumstances. They both have deepened in their faith and trust of God as He has worked in and through their lives.

I love seeing how God has been at work in another’s life, redeeming the brokenness that comes from this fallen world. I’m incredibly encouraged to continue stepping forward in my own journey of restoration.  God at work making all things new.

I have allowed shame to be a prevalent thread in my life for far too long. It was woven into my life while in utero, handed to me by different family members in my early years and strengthened by my own resulting poor choices over the years.

It’s time to clip the threads.

God’s been trying to get my attention about this subject for years. Many passages of His Word point out my freedom from shame like Galatians 2:20

 “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”

This reminds me that I’m not the same. God is at work in me for His good purposes.

I have played tug of war with God, hanging onto shame, seeing myself as less than for decades.

It’s time to clip the threads.

Christine Caine’s latest book Unashamed has been the latest tool God is using to get my attention. Her story is so worth reading but more importantly she points us to the Truth. We have a choice in how we see ourselves. I have a choice, an action I can take that demonstrates that I am free.

It’s been such a struggle to change my mindset about who I am. Sometimes I think rightly, along the lines of the Truth of God’s Word to me, over me. But sometimes I revert to the familiar worn paths in my head where I speak in ways I would be mad to hear anyone saying to a friend of mine.

It’s not only time to clip the threads. It’s time to put up a sign like Corrie ten Boom spoke of

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God takes our sins – the past, present, and future, and dumps them in the sea and puts up a sign that says NO FISHING ALLOWED. Click To Tweet

So the follow up is no tug of war. No fishing line. Instead I’m making it fun.

I’m picturing my present day self, gray hair and reading glasses on my nose, wagging my finger at my little girl self and saying “that’s not a loving way to talk to yourself!”

This little girl is free of shame!

What about you? Want to learn to live in the freedom Christ offers?

Common Threads: Reflections on Being a Grandma

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The passing of time is such a mysterious and yet measurable occurrence. We can watch the second hand on a clock or the counter on a timer and see the passing of time. We often lose sight of the effect of time until a milestone occurs. Then we pay attention to the passing of time.

Birthdays are the annual milestone measuring the passing of time. Today mark’s the first birthday of our grand-daughter Norah. Where has this year gone?

I’m reflecting on the fact that I’ve been a Grandma for a year now. I’ve only been with her 5 times in this year unfortunately. That’s the sad side effect of living in another state. 5 times of visiting in one year is more than many people have opportunity to travel; I am extremely grateful. And of course there is the beauty of technology. Thank you Apple engineers for FaceTime.

This morning I’ve also been thinking about the value of having a Grandma.

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(great eating habits don’t you think?)

My Gramma was from Texas. She loved to sing. One of her favorites was “The Yellow Rose of Texas”. She taught me names of flowers, how to take care of a garden and see God at work in His creation. Gramma taught me to sew, refinish and repurpose furniture, and value making gifts rather than buying them.  When I stayed the night we watched TV shows like Gunsmoke and Rawhide. Gramma also made me memorize the 50 States and their Capitol cities. We played cards and she scratched my back. She was the greatest positive influence on my life. She prayed for me daily.

When I came to faith at 23 (after too many years of foolish choices) I made a trip to visit my Gramma so I could tell her of my life change.  She had tears in her eyes and simply quoted Proverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way she should go (and in keeping with her individual gift or bent) and when she is old she won’t depart from it. (Amplified version and my gender adapted)

As a new believer I’d never heard that verse before. I hadn’t really paid close attention to all my Gramma was doing all those years. But in hindsight I know she rose earlier than everyone else every time I slept over. I wonder if that was her quiet time with the Lord?

 

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My beautiful mother was a terrific Nana to our sons. She read to them, sang funny songs, took them on trips, provided LEGOS by the thousands and taught them how to speak Spanish and play King’s Corners.  Both boys (men) have great stories to tell about times with Nana. I can’t do the stories justice because she wasn’t my Grandma.

Now it’s my turn.

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I want to be that kind of Grammy for Norah. I’m already praying she’ll make much better choices than I did. She has amazing parents who actively love Jesus and His Word. She’ll see and hear and know what loving God with your whole life looks like. I’m thanking God for all His provisions for her today.

A grandma’s influence can be felt through generations.

What fond memories do you have of time spent with your own Grandma?  What did you call her? I’d love to hear!

 

Threads of History & Tradition on Memorial Day

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I was 10 when my Uncle Buddy was killed in Vietnam. I learned first hand what this holiday is about; we remember, we’re thankful and we live free. My Dad would put out the flag and say to me “Never take your freedom for granted.”

My husband hung our flag this morning after we dashed our trash cans out to the street; no holiday for them today. Nor for those who are currently serving our country. These brave men & women who are in active duty are still in situations that are life-threatening; while we go to the park, or lake or beach on our long weekend.

Never take your freedom for granted.

I think about choice and change and history and tradition on days like today.

Each of us can choose to serve in the military or not. We can choose to grow & change or not.

History shows us the results of choices others have made. Tradition is a repeated action that is tied to history in some way.

Memorial Day for me has threads of both history and tradition because of the impact on my family.

Display the flag. Thank an active duty soldier for serving our country. Thank God for the sacrifices of those gone before. Have a barbeque or a picnic. Watch baseball.

Never take your freedom for granted.

Love of Books: Another Common Thread

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I had the privilege of being a Story Hour reader at a local coffee shop on Thursday. It wasn’t a last minute thing; I knew about it 5 weeks in advance. I was so excited to get to share stories and songs with little people again!

I took myself to the library in our new community, applied for a library card and proceeded to spend  over an hour browsing their extensive collection of picture books. So many beloved stories caught my attention; books I had read to hundreds of children through my teaching career took back to the joy of reading aloud. Titles of Caldecott medalists I collected for my own sons also brought great joy in the memories of snuggles for stories. But I had a theme in mind as a way to choose the books, just in case there were many preschoolers as well as toddlers.

You might think toddlers? Story hour? Not a good mix! But let me say, Try It!

This is our 11 month old grand-daughter enjoying (and copying) the book Ten Tiny Toes.

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Learning to love books starts early. Reading aloud to your littles builds their vocabulary even when they’re not yet saying words.  Language is learned first by hearing. It’s amazing how little ones respond to inflection in your voice, the sing song rhythm of rhyming words, the noises that animals make. Children love to participate!

I am privileged to have the Mother Goose book that was read to me as a toddler; read so frequently that I memorized the pages and rhymes by the time I was 3. My mother loved to tell people that I was reading at 3. Some reading specialists would say impossible. I’ll tell you, we don’t know exactly when a child learns to read. It’s very mysterious. I taught children to “read” for the first 6 years of my career, have tutored children in older grades and worked with adult literacy. Reading skills can be learned at any age. The love of books is different. The love of books begins at home.

I imagine your local library has a terrific selection of picture books and probably even a story hour! Gather some of your mom friends and make a date to give it a try. Pack snacks or a picnic for afterward and go to a park for playtime and conversation with other moms. We need each other. You’ll be tired but you’ll probably be encouraged to keep on sharing stories with your children.

So much benefit from the common thread of learning to love books!

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Common Threads in this Grand Adventure

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A house was being built in my backyard. To my 5 year old way of seeing, it was giant. A real door with two real windows faced front; a real shingled roof, four wood sided walls and two more windows enclosed the house. But the best part? An entire wall with a green chalkboard for me to play school.
My dad’s dad built this for me. Me. He used all reclaimed materials from other torn down construction. It even had a beautiful hardwood floor. Grandfather loved to make things and he made them with excellence. I still remember walking into the finished playhouse as the grown ups called it. At 5 the height of the ceiling was so far away I felt the immensity of the single room. The strong smell of fresh paint and resurfaced floor boards was somehow comforting. But gazing at the wall of chalkboard was what inspired awe. The brand new white chalk lying in the tray beckoned me. All the ideas of what I could do seemed to wash over me all at once.
I grabbed hold of my Grandfather around his knees and hugged him so hard he swayed a little from the force. I told him thank you and then ran in the house, into my bedroom. I imagine my Grandfather and Dad were standing there bewildered but it made sense when a moment later I came running back out with an armful of stuffed animals.
Grandfather opened the playhouse door, held it wide and said, “School is in session!”

How did he know?

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(an Easter photo circa 1961)

I spent hours teaching my students their ABCs and singing songs to them; acting out what I had learned in Kindergarten each day. I used that chalkboard to write my letters, ever so slowly, so my students could see how they were made; writing numbers the same, slow way; turning to ask if they could see alright. I was sharing what I was learning along the way.

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(chalkboards + me = magnetic attraction; 1962)

So much can be said of the sweet knowing of the man who was my Grandfather. I’ll save that for another time.

It’s fun to reflect on this wonderful memory and to see the common thread that has run through my life these 53 years later. I have consistently loved learning. I have consistently loved sharing what I’ve learned (not always appreciated or graciously delivered; but I digress) Best of all, I have my grandparents’ chalkboard hanging in our tiny house.

We all have threads woven into the fabric of our being; evidence of our unique make up. Sometimes we lose sight of those threads that have been a part of us since our personality started to show itself. When we lose sight of the common threads that make us who we are, we can often lose our way.

Is that you today? Have you lost a sense of who you are? What makes you, You?

Life can be so full of doing for others that we get distracted from the threads that are life giving to us. I want to be clear; I don’t think this life is all about figuring out what we each need and want. But I do think our journey here is for a purpose. Gaining a sense of that purpose can be found in the common threads woven through our lives.

How can you gain that sense of purpose, a sense of self, if you don’t know where you lost it?

Great question! You go adventuring! Exploring! Excavating!

In the coming few days I’m going to share a new resource that can help you in this adventure of re-discovery and connection.

You don’t want to miss out!  If you haven’t already subscribed to my blog, please do that now so you’ll stay in the know for the next step in this Grand Adventure!

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