Joyful Realist

I think I have spent most of my life thinking it was cool to be a pessimist, cynical, critical and, if circumstances merited, a victim.

It could be because I'm artistic and artistic people feel things deeply.

It could be that I wanted to fit in with other people's world views, so I adopted a "everything is dark and bleak" attitude.

Pessimistic people are really always happy, they just look miserable. They like to be pessimistic. When things go wrong they say, "See? That's what I expected." And if you know someone who is perpetually pessimistic, you can encourage them to see things differently, but know that you will be destroying their happiness. Ironic, I know.

If you know someone who is continually complaining about things, chances are:
1. They want to feel important or special.
2. See #1.

I have spent the greater part of my life wrestling with this negative side of myself. I didn't truly see how negative I was until I met various friends in my life who have endured very dark things in their life. Instead of relishing in their victimhood, they grieved and fought back the sadness by allowing something new to be created in their life.

Like my friend whose grandmother was murdered. She started a ministry of making quilts for people who are in prison or have endured horrendous grief in life.

Or my friends whose parents have made very poor decisions for their families, neglecting the gift of their children. These friends are the most AMAZING parents to their children.

Like my depressed friend who continues to fight for life instead of give in to temptation.

A major turning point for me happened several years ago. In a particularly dark period of my life in which I never thought another fetus would survive my womb, I learned to fight for joy. During that same period, my husband had something horrible happen at work and my parents divorced. It seemed like all the joy of the world had been sucked out into a vortex of hopelessness.

One day I woke up, bleary eyed and said, "I'm tired of crying." And while this word is not always appropriate, in this case it is: "Damn the tears and the sorrow and the suffering."

I felt a surge of life inside me. That's when I started designing again. Wow.
New life. New colors.
Joy for the eyes.
Changing critical into creation.

I'm not really an optimist now, but I'm trying to be a joyful realist, reveling in the beauty that God sustains.

Life isn't perfect and grief abounds.

Hope abounds more.

Friendship

I wrote this post a while ago but didn't publish it. I like to look at people I admire and see how I can be like them. Here goes:

_________________________________

Today I am reflecting on the many wonderful people who have encouraged me in the past year and how they made me feel special with their actions and words.

Like my Mom, who asks caring questions like, "What good food will you eat this week?". (She's a foodie, like me.) There's a whole post on all the things I love about my Mom.

Or my mentor, Shari. When I first met her I thought she was out of my friendship league. (Whatever that means.) And then I saw how she used her organizational skills to show hospitality. And how she's gracious at all times in her words. I asked her to be my mentor, she said "yes" and now I see the world a little differently.

Or my girlfriends who don't allow bankruptcy or murder or sickness or gossip get the better of them. They allow themselves to be made new.

With those things in mind, these are qualities I'd like to keep in the forefront of my mind as I interact with others; these are the qualities I love about my respected friends.

1. Look deeply in the eyes of the person you are talking to.
When your eyes are focused on a person's eyes, it's really hard to let your mind wander elsewhere.

2. Ask follow up questions when someone shares a story.
Isn't that the best, when someone takes a genuine interest?

3. Make treats for someone.
Cookies. Brownies. Muffins. Baked goods= love.

4. If you like something about someone, tell them.
And make it specific. Don't just say, "I like your hair." Say something extra like, "Wow, your highlights make your eyes so bright!"

5. Pay attention to older people.
Listen to their view. Picture them in their prime and ask them about their life.
Marvel at their modesty.
Be mindful of what their life, their economy, what their world was like at your age.

6. When people act unlovely, remind yourself that you have acted unlovely as well.
Surround your mind with memories of people who have loved you in various stages of life.

7. Tell your mother you love her.
Encourage any person who spends their days nurturing life into others.

8. When you feel your self esteem dropping in the presence of an amazing person, be courageous enough to not compare.
Root yourself in God.
Appreciate how God made you in particular.
Strive to love the amazing person.

9. Be emotionally balanced: Enter BOTH the joys and sorrows of friends.
If you only enter the sorrows, that leads to a savior complex.
If you only enter the joys, the shallow roots of friendship can never truly sprout.
Sun and rain are necessary for growth.

10. Pray for your friendships.
Even the easiest friendships can grow barnacles of irritation.
Continue to love and show kindness.

Thankful for you, friends.

Pep Talk to Self

This January my husband and I joined a gym.

We hadn't planned on joining a gym. We tried out a pass for a local hospital owned one and were seduced by piles of white towels "Take as many as you like", regular looking people who went to the gym for its intended purposed (fitness, if you didn't know) and a veritable spa within the locker rooms. We found ourselves signing papers to become members at a place which put lemons in their drinking water. Lemons!

Since we have joined the gym, my husband has gone faithfully almost every day. His pants fit REALLY well right now. Muscles he thought he lost have appeared again. He claims he is almost addicted.

I'd like to tell you that I imitate his love of the gym.

I have been wondering why I do not share his love of the gym and I have come to realize that I have developed a phobia of preparing for the gym. I don't have a fear OF the gym... just PREPARING for it. And since this is the year 2012, I'm sure they have already come up with a name for my malady; it probably ends in "itis".

When my husband goes to the gym, he awakes at the pre-dawn hour of 4:30, bright eyed and eager to work out and head to the steam room for some relaxation. He comes home, drops off his dirty clothes in the laundry and goes to work. He goes in his sports car, the one without Cheerios on the floor, and he enters and leaves the gym in his timing. You could set a clock by the precision of his timing.

When I go to the gym, I look like a tumbleweed that is moving all its earthly possessions to the moon.

I think of all the layers I need: warmup clothes to go OVER the workout clothes.
*Some* of my workout clothes are actually maternity clothes.
Ma-ter-ni-ty clothes. (No, not pregnant.)
After shower clothes.
My special after shower paraphernalia.
Eve's diaper bag stuff.
A cell phone.
Preparing mentally for when Eve screams/runs when we enter/leave the car and enter/leave the childcare area.

It's apparent that I need a "define the relationship" talk with myself and my gym membership.

That I need to buy myself a few pieces of clothing that show myself that I intend to use the gym.

That I need to get my daughter Eve and myself into the mode of going there regularly.

That I need to pretend that preparing for the gym is effortless until I get into the groove.

I will find that rhythm. In fact, this morning I already jump started my day with an egg omelet, a cup of joe and--AND-- a stale cookie that soaked up the coffee beautifully as I dipped it in my mug.

I'd say I'm off to a good start.

See ya later, tumbleweed.