Wednesday, December 17, 2014

That Time I Turned Forty

When I clinked plastic SOLO cups of bubbly last New Year's Eve imagining the possibilities of the coming year, I couldn't have believed what a difference a mere 365 days could make.

I couldn't have imagined that the family from which I was raised was growing in such beautiful ways. While I was busy in Chicago trying to survive, they were busy in their homes making brave choices. Choosing to stay. Or choosing to be. Choosing to walk across a room and say hello. Marrying amazing people. I felt so wealthy when I saw them all this summer, realizing that I was related to such deep and strong and vibrant people.

I'm still battling the younger version of me who is Miss "I Can Handle This All By Myself." She is tenacious. I'm learning that controlling areas of my life doesn't bring lasting peace. I've caught up on my to-do lists approximately twice this year and it was satisfying for exactly seven seconds until the to-do list began again. Learning to let things be unfinished for a while.

When my children walked out the back door of our house and headed off to their first days of school, the house became immensely quiet. Something changed in me. I felt like my heart grew larger. I felt more peaceful. And most surprisingly, I began to pray. It has alluded me all these years. Prayer is seducing me.

My children are at an age where I think mostly fond thoughts of them. Apparently I am an "elementary children" mom. Some women go gaga for babies. I love other people's babies, but didn't enjoy the experience as much myself. I faked most of my smiles to them. That's like 5 years of lying. In any case, I have always loved them, but now I am enjoying them far more than I thought possible. They are wonderful humans.

I found myself in an interesting intersection of friendships this year. Most of my friends had gone different directions than I. (Not morally... I mean they have a lot of soccer practices to attend, etc.) So I began to reflect on friendships and what is important. Realizing that I could stay home all day and have a super clean house *cough, cough, rolling eyes* or make friends, I began to reach out to a few individuals. This was hard for me.

I am 100% happy when women own their choices in life. Their career. How they eat. If they exercise. If they choose to wear Calvin Klein clothes or shop at Goodwill. If they plan to stay home vs. work outside the home. I just love it when women encourage each other especially if their choice is different from someone else's. I'm amazed when women support each other in these decisions.

I remodeled my kitchen. Dan helped. It was harder than one would think, but easier than potty training a toddler. I gave myself mottos to keep me going, like: "Keep your eyes on the prize," which helps when you're ankle deep in debris. Also: The remodeling will never be done because we are creative, thrifty do-it-yourselfers. New remodeling word of the year: Phases. Own it.

My grandmother died this year. I was devastated by her leaving us here. No more pies. No more of her slowly-made cookies and casseroles. No more of her high pitched voice calling me, "Emmy." But after the grief, I began to dream about her and in my dreams she is holding many babies and she is very happy. I feel as though she is not dead and in a way she isn't. My thoughts of her keep me warm.

I turned forty. A lot happened. All my creative work came at once. All the weddings fell in one chunk of the year. All the new things came at once as well. Someone replaced my favorite chai tea with shots of estrogen. My friends who I thought were drifting to another realm came back to me and those who I thought were my backbone are being sent another direction. So I adjust my sails and wait for God to make sense of it all.

I'm reading. I have never called myself a reader. I read a heap of books about living more minimally and deliberately. Several of the books have probably changed me forever. By the way: I read books like I eat sandwich crust: all over the place. No order. Sometimes I read the last chapter first. Dan hates this.

I said "no" a lot. After realizing that I was becoming dangerously close to burning out in too many areas of my life, I said "no" to a ton of good things in my life. Or I politely declined invitations. It was weird to put down my people pleasing self and just listen to what my heart was saying. But so far, I'm glad I did. I used the time in more creative efforts in addition to taking excess things out of my house. Such an amazing feeling.

I cleaned house. Stuff that was in my house with no purpose got ushered to the front curb. Or the Epilepsy Foundation's second hand store. I'm purging things and allowing my eyes some breathing space which gives my mind some space, too. I approve of living with less though I'm not a shiny example of this. It's a journey.

I bought clothes that fit. And all the women said "Amen."
Colorful ones. *swoon*
I still have one maternity top which must leave the house; why the sam hill can't I get rid of it?
Small steps.

My body rejected dairy this year. I was very sick until I learned what it was. I learned a lot. I miss you, ice cream.

There are some people in my life who I care for but don't understand. So instead of rolling my eyes, God is prodding me to think kindly of them, to pray for them, to look forward to good things about them. No news yet, but I can say that my heart feels lighter.

And this non-new revelation: I love design. It's work. My back aches. My eyes dry out, but I love it. I want the designs to be useful to others. These designs sprang from a period of great sorrow in my life over 4 years ago and have proved to be so healing to me. I want the same for others. Some people believe in my work. Some just buy it because they're my friends and I bake them cookies. I'm just going to keep going and try to be mindful of what engages people. I'm hoping to study illustration this year because my drawings of people are– how do you say it– not good. Yet.

If you would have told me about all these changes at the beginning of the year, I would have hyperventilated. But the changes came just when I needed them, at just the right time. Which finds me grateful, tired and amazed.

My New Years Blessing for Friends:
"May your days be less like 'the mass of men leading lives of quiet desperation'* and more like the charming few who live with truth and inspiration."

___________________________

* "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."
-Henry David Thoreau