This is my 40.
A few days, ok a month, after my 40th birthday and I am sitting at the desk, where I start most mornings and feeling all contemplative. I knew 40 was coming. I've imagined grand trips or some list to accomplish before I arrived at this number. At the end of the day though, I am just thankful to be here. To have celebrated the day of my birth and been gifted another day. Or that is the narrative I am choosing to believe. Because if I am real honest with myself and all of you, that doesn't feel like enough. I have let my fitness level decline. My diet has included more bread than ever before, because you know European flour is different and more pastries for the same reason. A "when in Rome" attitude if you will. For the past two years I have been on the outside looking in. Before we left Minnesota I had a plan. A direction for my life. The Things were running in their own lanes. Comfortable. Secure. In all the categories, school, friends, church. Making that statement should not imply that our lives were without challenges or mistakes, simply that we had community of sort and a life that was predictable to a limited extent. And yet there was still an unsettled feeling stirring within. Changes on the horizon. But me, I had just enrolled at the junior college and was going to be working towards my degree. That decision felt right. Change reared it's head and we found ourselves celebrating our eldest child's high school graduation, moving her to the West coast for 7 months and moving ourselves down South shortly thereafter. Throwing our family into upheaval and uncertainty. We had assumed we were moving to a known place. Thing 2 was beginning her senior year being home schooled, having left behind a solid circle of influence and an education we valued so highly. Things 3 and 4 were along for the move and all a bit reluctantly. When we arrived in TN the people we thought we were shifted. Those that had remained in TN had changed. We had changed. The city had been in motion while we were away and although we visited often being a full time resident was not the same. Regret arrived heavy and hasn't left. Looking back is a valuable tool but remaining there is no good. Learn, move forward. Clutching tight to hope and trusting that this was the plan. A way prepared for our family. And I do believe that it was exactly where we were supposed to be. But believing that and living in that fullness are two completely different acts. I digress. This is my 40.
So, that was two and a half years ago and now we are living on a new continent, in a new country and again I feel so distant. Not just as a matter of the kilometers between us but the space in my head. Shame and pride and regret fill the available space and I cannot seem to provide any sort of distance between the mistakes of the past and where I am present day. They consume me. I know that is my weakness. A false sense of belonging. Not really believing that I do. Or that I am good enough. Nor am I worthy of the beautiful words that were gifted to me on the birthday I am reflecting on. Words from friends and family and my Things and Husband Jared. Life giving words dripping with sweetness and encouraging to my soul. And yet, what I called to my mind were the failings. Yes, I can be all those things but what about when I am not? Don't you remember then? And if you do, which you should, because in my mind they live so large, why not talk about those? With force and power, mostly provided by me and the time I indulge them with. Where is the block? What wall am I up against? I want nothing more than to break the wall down. To live in the light where the past is not who I am. But as I reluctantly admit here I invest too much in other people's opinions. I place them higher than God's. Most of what I remember has to do with choices I made. Usually alcohol was involved or words that spewed from my lips that I didn't really want to say. Actions that did not match the theology I was pushing. Thorns in my side that I directed like arrows into the crowd. Manipulative motivation behind my helping. Thank you enneagram for giving language to that twinge of uncertainty I had felt when offering my "help" or when reaching out to lost relationships in the hopes of feeling something that could not be fulfilled by the person on the other end. And now when I do recognize that rising up the guilt and shame rush in, and when I don't act on that inclination I feel proud and self aware. Shit, it's about time. This is my 40.
As I reread what I've just written I am wondering quietly, can I actually publish this? How will those that read it interpret my words? These letters composing a gateway to my mind and so very vulnerable. All for the sake of authenticity. I will sit with this thought as I send this post into cyber land to be read or not. This therapeutic writing is more for me than anyone else. Yet, maybe someone can relate? Possibly these words resonate with another soul struggling. My intent is pure. Let's keep on pushing through, shall we? So, if I can be all those things, the evil and desperate and ugly, I can also be good and pure and lovely, am I right? Apologies have been given, forgiveness asked for, I think in most cases. If not, can I do so here? Publicly? I've confessed to my heavenly Father. There it is. The hesitation is in the realization that I am ALL of these things. A wife who is selfish and harsh with her love, a mother who reacts and then disregards and lacks attentiveness or sits in judgment because of the reflection or lack of respect, a sister who hasn't always honored or considered the feelings, values and wants of her brothers and sisters, a student that didn't value the education she was given, a liar, smoker, drinker, lost little girl offering her body to others because she thought that was all she had to give. A people pleasing friend who morphs her likes and dislikes to have common ground with others, a friend without a voice and unwilling to stand up for what is right, a friend that judges or compares and doesn't speak life. I could go on and on. There is more, heck we all have more. More whispers of inadequacy and unforgiveness, less than, wrong and right. Forgotten sins and those we left behind in the wake of our sin and lust for better. Alright. Now the choice. In this year of 40 I want to make a different choice. Leave the darkness of the past behind. I have ruminated for far too long. About everything, all the time. Trust me, it's a real thing for me. Ask anyone who knows me well. This isn't a grand declaration. Only a mere acknowledgment that I can be all those things. I have been all that and more. So much worse. In that I have lived as if I still was. Not in freedom. Those lies of what once was have been chains around my neck. My ankles. My legs, feet and head. Weighing me down. Placing a burden of hell around my heart and binding up the capacity I carry within. Trust me when I say I am taken with lengthy confessions, pages upon pages of self loathing, this is not that. This is my 40. A self revelation that has been years in the making. Years of not understanding that I can be. I can be all those things and still so much more. I AM all of those things and so much more. This isn't about the past defining who I am. Although that does play into the equation. It is more about the dynamic make up that constitutes our character, our personality, our entire being. Holistically. Mind, body and spirit. Together.
An account I follow on Instagram, Jessica Honegger of Noonday, posted a little Friday therapy note a while ago that has pricked my heart and boggled my mind and made me say a loud and resounding, Amen Sister. It eludes to this notion of congruity, authenticity and the beautiful capability we innately have to inhabit such a time as this within our divinely created beings. This space is called tension and it is where we reside. In between and all of the things at once. She says it so much more eloquently than I did in the paragraphs above. Essentially, the idea is this: yes, I did all those things, I said and wrote and believed all of it. And yet, here I am. Now I live forgiven and still in the tension of self awareness and choice. Jessica says, "We can hold tensions well when we hold them together." That being said, it isn't so much of the past but where I am now. This is my 40. And here are some of my "#choosingand" statements. I may have misinterpreted her intent with the post but again, her words spoke to me in such a way. This way, that I am sharing here. In the letting go and being bold and afraid of it all at the exact same time.
I can be authentic and hold some things for myself. I can be an introvert and still love people. I can be right and wrong. I can take Juice Plus and eat cake for breakfast. I can shop at Target and be an advocate for fair trade. I can be educated and not have a college degree. I can be a Jesus lover and use cuss words. I can be content and grateful for where I am and long for change. I can love living abroad and miss my people so much it hurts. I can be a gypsy and desire a place to settle down. I can love city living and the country. I can think my way is good and right and know that yours is too. I can love rap and traditional hymns. I can love planning and the unexpected. I can love you and not agree with you. I can have wrinkles and stretch marks and feel beautiful. I can love the tele and be an avid reader. I can love traveling with my children and alone. I can be a stay at home Mama and a successful business owner. I can be a runner and not run races. I can be strong and need help. I can parent well and be a friend to my adult children. I can give and spend. I can be scared and confident. I can love social media and believe that it has the potential to be dangerous. I can be a hippy at heart and appreciate the finer things. I can be idealistic and a realist. I can be dependent on Husband Jared and an independent woman. I can be silly and go deep. I can need sleep and go without. I can wear workout clothes and not work out. I can love who I am and want to become more. I can love Jesus and question Him. I can read Scripture and novels. I can want all the things and be a minimalist. I can like wearing happy pants and a pretty dress. I can love the church and want to be a part of her change. I can home school and appreciate public education. I can love the environment and not use a recyclable coffee cup. I can love my people and set healthy boundaries. I can say yes and no without guilt. I can feel loved and not needed. I can be fierce and gentle. I can be patient and demanding. I can forgive and not forget. I can be conservative and liberal. I can love to be at home and go out. I can be a leader and a follower. I can love homeopathic medicine and visit a traditional doctor. I can appreciate tradition and be an agent for change. I can be a lover and a fighter. I can be quiet and loud. I can laugh and cry. I can still be a good parent and screw up royally, like everyday. I can be a beach person and love the mountains.
In all it's glorious contradiction there is my list of #choosingand. Everyday has the potential for struggle, within or externally. And everyday I walk in that tension of choice. These are choices where I can live fully in tension and feel good about it. I am sure this list is organic and will evolve as self awareness heightens. As it should. Change is constant and growth is inevitable. So I will allow myself to move fluidly here within these statements. Living on purpose. Being kind to myself and others. This is my 40.
With this new season and all that it seems to have ushered in, a tad unexpectedly, I will choose to embrace it. Thus the words written and shared. Vulnerability, in all the weighted expectation it brings. I stand, with puffed out chest and all the false security I can muster, bring it on. That is a win, right there my friends. A proclamation of hope that my 40 will be a year of trust. Trusting that I know me better. That all the statements I made above will be believed and lived to accordingly. Trusting that the past helped mold and refine me. Trusting that just because I made mistakes doesn't mean I am not worthy of love. Or of Jesus. Trusting that this womanly change is natural and good and holds healing potential. Can I get an Amen there sisters? Trusting that my words do not convey darkness or self loathing. Trusting that I am where I am supposed to be. For such a time as this. Trusting that my adult age children, who are not living in the same country as me, are prepared and ready and equipped for adulthood. Trusting that friendships will withstand distance. Trusting that community is waiting for us here. Trusting that the two children that are here with us will weather the transition. Trusting. Loads of trusting. This is my 40.
So, that was two and a half years ago and now we are living on a new continent, in a new country and again I feel so distant. Not just as a matter of the kilometers between us but the space in my head. Shame and pride and regret fill the available space and I cannot seem to provide any sort of distance between the mistakes of the past and where I am present day. They consume me. I know that is my weakness. A false sense of belonging. Not really believing that I do. Or that I am good enough. Nor am I worthy of the beautiful words that were gifted to me on the birthday I am reflecting on. Words from friends and family and my Things and Husband Jared. Life giving words dripping with sweetness and encouraging to my soul. And yet, what I called to my mind were the failings. Yes, I can be all those things but what about when I am not? Don't you remember then? And if you do, which you should, because in my mind they live so large, why not talk about those? With force and power, mostly provided by me and the time I indulge them with. Where is the block? What wall am I up against? I want nothing more than to break the wall down. To live in the light where the past is not who I am. But as I reluctantly admit here I invest too much in other people's opinions. I place them higher than God's. Most of what I remember has to do with choices I made. Usually alcohol was involved or words that spewed from my lips that I didn't really want to say. Actions that did not match the theology I was pushing. Thorns in my side that I directed like arrows into the crowd. Manipulative motivation behind my helping. Thank you enneagram for giving language to that twinge of uncertainty I had felt when offering my "help" or when reaching out to lost relationships in the hopes of feeling something that could not be fulfilled by the person on the other end. And now when I do recognize that rising up the guilt and shame rush in, and when I don't act on that inclination I feel proud and self aware. Shit, it's about time. This is my 40.
As I reread what I've just written I am wondering quietly, can I actually publish this? How will those that read it interpret my words? These letters composing a gateway to my mind and so very vulnerable. All for the sake of authenticity. I will sit with this thought as I send this post into cyber land to be read or not. This therapeutic writing is more for me than anyone else. Yet, maybe someone can relate? Possibly these words resonate with another soul struggling. My intent is pure. Let's keep on pushing through, shall we? So, if I can be all those things, the evil and desperate and ugly, I can also be good and pure and lovely, am I right? Apologies have been given, forgiveness asked for, I think in most cases. If not, can I do so here? Publicly? I've confessed to my heavenly Father. There it is. The hesitation is in the realization that I am ALL of these things. A wife who is selfish and harsh with her love, a mother who reacts and then disregards and lacks attentiveness or sits in judgment because of the reflection or lack of respect, a sister who hasn't always honored or considered the feelings, values and wants of her brothers and sisters, a student that didn't value the education she was given, a liar, smoker, drinker, lost little girl offering her body to others because she thought that was all she had to give. A people pleasing friend who morphs her likes and dislikes to have common ground with others, a friend without a voice and unwilling to stand up for what is right, a friend that judges or compares and doesn't speak life. I could go on and on. There is more, heck we all have more. More whispers of inadequacy and unforgiveness, less than, wrong and right. Forgotten sins and those we left behind in the wake of our sin and lust for better. Alright. Now the choice. In this year of 40 I want to make a different choice. Leave the darkness of the past behind. I have ruminated for far too long. About everything, all the time. Trust me, it's a real thing for me. Ask anyone who knows me well. This isn't a grand declaration. Only a mere acknowledgment that I can be all those things. I have been all that and more. So much worse. In that I have lived as if I still was. Not in freedom. Those lies of what once was have been chains around my neck. My ankles. My legs, feet and head. Weighing me down. Placing a burden of hell around my heart and binding up the capacity I carry within. Trust me when I say I am taken with lengthy confessions, pages upon pages of self loathing, this is not that. This is my 40. A self revelation that has been years in the making. Years of not understanding that I can be. I can be all those things and still so much more. I AM all of those things and so much more. This isn't about the past defining who I am. Although that does play into the equation. It is more about the dynamic make up that constitutes our character, our personality, our entire being. Holistically. Mind, body and spirit. Together.
An account I follow on Instagram, Jessica Honegger of Noonday, posted a little Friday therapy note a while ago that has pricked my heart and boggled my mind and made me say a loud and resounding, Amen Sister. It eludes to this notion of congruity, authenticity and the beautiful capability we innately have to inhabit such a time as this within our divinely created beings. This space is called tension and it is where we reside. In between and all of the things at once. She says it so much more eloquently than I did in the paragraphs above. Essentially, the idea is this: yes, I did all those things, I said and wrote and believed all of it. And yet, here I am. Now I live forgiven and still in the tension of self awareness and choice. Jessica says, "We can hold tensions well when we hold them together." That being said, it isn't so much of the past but where I am now. This is my 40. And here are some of my "#choosingand" statements. I may have misinterpreted her intent with the post but again, her words spoke to me in such a way. This way, that I am sharing here. In the letting go and being bold and afraid of it all at the exact same time.
I can be authentic and hold some things for myself. I can be an introvert and still love people. I can be right and wrong. I can take Juice Plus and eat cake for breakfast. I can shop at Target and be an advocate for fair trade. I can be educated and not have a college degree. I can be a Jesus lover and use cuss words. I can be content and grateful for where I am and long for change. I can love living abroad and miss my people so much it hurts. I can be a gypsy and desire a place to settle down. I can love city living and the country. I can think my way is good and right and know that yours is too. I can love rap and traditional hymns. I can love planning and the unexpected. I can love you and not agree with you. I can have wrinkles and stretch marks and feel beautiful. I can love the tele and be an avid reader. I can love traveling with my children and alone. I can be a stay at home Mama and a successful business owner. I can be a runner and not run races. I can be strong and need help. I can parent well and be a friend to my adult children. I can give and spend. I can be scared and confident. I can love social media and believe that it has the potential to be dangerous. I can be a hippy at heart and appreciate the finer things. I can be idealistic and a realist. I can be dependent on Husband Jared and an independent woman. I can be silly and go deep. I can need sleep and go without. I can wear workout clothes and not work out. I can love who I am and want to become more. I can love Jesus and question Him. I can read Scripture and novels. I can want all the things and be a minimalist. I can like wearing happy pants and a pretty dress. I can love the church and want to be a part of her change. I can home school and appreciate public education. I can love the environment and not use a recyclable coffee cup. I can love my people and set healthy boundaries. I can say yes and no without guilt. I can feel loved and not needed. I can be fierce and gentle. I can be patient and demanding. I can forgive and not forget. I can be conservative and liberal. I can love to be at home and go out. I can be a leader and a follower. I can love homeopathic medicine and visit a traditional doctor. I can appreciate tradition and be an agent for change. I can be a lover and a fighter. I can be quiet and loud. I can laugh and cry. I can still be a good parent and screw up royally, like everyday. I can be a beach person and love the mountains.
In all it's glorious contradiction there is my list of #choosingand. Everyday has the potential for struggle, within or externally. And everyday I walk in that tension of choice. These are choices where I can live fully in tension and feel good about it. I am sure this list is organic and will evolve as self awareness heightens. As it should. Change is constant and growth is inevitable. So I will allow myself to move fluidly here within these statements. Living on purpose. Being kind to myself and others. This is my 40.
With this new season and all that it seems to have ushered in, a tad unexpectedly, I will choose to embrace it. Thus the words written and shared. Vulnerability, in all the weighted expectation it brings. I stand, with puffed out chest and all the false security I can muster, bring it on. That is a win, right there my friends. A proclamation of hope that my 40 will be a year of trust. Trusting that I know me better. That all the statements I made above will be believed and lived to accordingly. Trusting that the past helped mold and refine me. Trusting that just because I made mistakes doesn't mean I am not worthy of love. Or of Jesus. Trusting that this womanly change is natural and good and holds healing potential. Can I get an Amen there sisters? Trusting that my words do not convey darkness or self loathing. Trusting that I am where I am supposed to be. For such a time as this. Trusting that my adult age children, who are not living in the same country as me, are prepared and ready and equipped for adulthood. Trusting that friendships will withstand distance. Trusting that community is waiting for us here. Trusting that the two children that are here with us will weather the transition. Trusting. Loads of trusting. This is my 40.
Nicely said, a good read this morning on my break!
ReplyDeleteI feel you in ways you may or not understand as a mama and child of God. I believe we can be all and more or less at times, whatever is needed for the season. We all make choices we regret, but to live in the regret is not good for our soul or the people we love. I love the ‘choosingand’ option as it represents choice.
Love you and miss you so much, my daughter AND best friend.
"I can love who I am and want to become more"...Yes!
ReplyDelete