Put Your Bat in the Holster

“When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” You’ve probably heard this numerous times over the years. I have anyway. I googled it this morning to see who actually said it. Wasn’t Buddha. Wasn’t Ghandi. Wasn’t even Obi Wan Kenobi, which was my guess. In fact, I lost interest before I could finish the article that divulged true authorship, but the sentiment is right on.

I’ve been noticing more and more that when I focus my energy and take steps in a certain direction, interesting people show up on my path. I listen to podcasts, order a book and then run into someone who is reading the same book. Or, I listen to a TedX talk and then one of my favorite podcasters mentions the speaker even though I’d never heard of her before and I’m a Ted junkie. So while I’ve always believed that coincidences were almost always divine appointments, sometimes synchronicity can be downright spooky.

Life has always brought me the people I needed. Even though sometimes I didn’t realize at the time, when I look back at memories, experiences, circumstances, I realize that God–or whatever you want to call the omniscient, omni-benevolent universal energy source–always sent people to help me through. Sometimes those people vanished shortly after; some are still here. You know…reasons, seasons, lifetime.

But recently, it has been a different sort of energy. People seem to bring a specific idea or a very obvious lesson. I meet people who are exploring similar ideas or reading the same books or writing a book…whatever it is, it seems each day someone crosses my path with some nugget of wisdom or truth or love.

So this begs the question, “Has this been happening all along and I was too oblivious to notice?” Perhaps. I might have walked past hundreds of everyday gurus missing them and their lessons. I’m not going to ruminate on that because I want to focus my energy on being awake and aware to the new lessons–even painful ones–that each interaction brings.

I’ve always believed that my kids are my greatest teachers, and when I am present enough to step back from imposing my will on them and instead follow my current feeling to its origin, it’s nearly always transformative. I’ve been trying to apply that beyond my precious offspring and onto others and to allow myself to be open and vulnerable enough to accept without seeking acceptance.

And I think all of this is possible because I’m no longer giving away my time and energy to people and situations that don’t bring me joy. I have more room in my mind, my heart and my life for positive energy, good people and life lessons. Not the same ones you have to keep learning over and over because they don’t sink in, but the good kind. The kind that make you get up and take an actual physical step toward your goals.

So, I would encourage you, if you’re reading this, stop swatting the proverbial bee’s nest because you’ll just keep getting stung. Take a step back from situations or people that don’t bring you joy and take a big giant leap toward something or someone that makes your heart sing. I’m going to as well. We can do it together. I’ll encourage you.

Too Much of a Good Thing is Still Too Much

Since I’m very vulnerable and transparent here, I am going to confess something: I can be a know-it-all. Not the kind who argues about facts and ideas and theories and politics. Not even the kind who thinks she is always right–at least not in traditional ways. No, I would describe myself as a person who aspires to grow and change and be my best self while helping inspire others to do the same. Whether they want to or not.

Sometimes, that is helpful. Lots of my friends find my “help” inspiring and encouraging–which, for the record is always my goal. But there are also other people who don’t want to read the books I suggest or the blogs I write or the podcasts I listen to. Some people aren’t interested in my brand of self-improvement. And that is perfectly fine. Just because we don’t work the same way doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.

However, there are others who just really aren’t my people. Also, fine.

Brad told me one time that I can be “too much Mary” for some. I get that. I’ve never tried to be a self-improvement bully, but when something I read or watch or hear impacts me significantly, I want to share it so that others can have similar experiences. Alas, I know now that not everyone can or will or wants all these A-ha moments. So, I’ve been trying to keep my book, blog, and podcast recommendations to a minimum. Except here. This place is fair game for all my blathering.

For a long time, I subscribed to the philosophy of, “Leave the 99 and go after the 1.” That might work in ministry, but in real life, at least in my real life, it’s non-productive, nonsensical and painful. It’s taken me a long, lonnnnggggg, LOOOOOONNNGG time to figure it out, but I’m getting it. I am making a habit of loving, encouraging, and inspiring the people who love me back (the 99) and letting the others go. Not being everyone’s cup of tea doesn’t make me a bad person. People disliking me and trying to convince others that I’m a bad person doesn’t make me a bad person either. It’s tough stuff for a recovering approval junkie to take though.

So, if you’re reading this, I’m making a big assumption that you are one of my people or you care what I have to say or maybe the google brought you here via a keyword search for kookaloo, and I’m going to be really frank with you. I want everyone to be happy. Enormously, outrageously, love-cup-overflowing-ly happy. And sometimes, I feel like I see shortcuts to get there and I want to show them to people. “Look right here, if you just do this…” Sometimes, I feel like the blog or sermon that changed my life might change yours too. And sometimes I’m even right. People tell me all the time that my words or someone else’s words that I shared really DID impact them. I mean The Four Agreements? Seriously?

Still, other people wish I would shut up and stop being so happy and sharing pictures of my annoyingly beautiful kids and sickeningly hot husband who still loves me after 25 years and our obnoxious tattoos eye-roll. They’re not my people. I don’t care what they think. I don’t care if they like me, and I give up trying to win them over. Today’s Ash Wednesday, right? Good. I’m giving it up for Lent.

So, this is self-indulgent, I know. Sometimes I have to get this drivel out of my head to allow me to think clearly. However, I also know that at least one of you reading this relates. Among you are spiritual bullies, and kind-natured know-it-alls and do-gooders who see people not living up to their potential that could benefit from ______. Me too, friends. I’m trying to do better. I’m trying to listen more and advise less. I’m reading more body language (Stuff You Should Know 1-7, ONLY if you’re interested) and recommending fewer books. I’m seeking more to understand and less to be understood.

But…I’m a work in progress. So here’s a link to my kid’s blog. Cause she’s fabulosity personified. Peace out.

21 Days: Day 18

ohmygoshyouguysitisalmostover!!!! I’m pretty excited for day 21 even though today has been filled to the brim with sweet moments. I don’t really plan to change much once it’s over.

1. I got up at 4 a.m. because my baby guest was coming at 5:30 so I wanted to be fully awake and functional. I’m a little rusty with babies but found that it comes back quickly, especially when they are at the super cute cuddling and cooing phase. They don’t require much beyond a bottle, clean diaper and snuggles. But I had plenty of time to count blessings, let the dog in and out 75 times, and get my mind right before she got here.

2. In the area of friends, I have been richly blessed. We have a wonderful circle of peeps, some of our kids’ friends’ parents have become great friends, but one of my greatest treasures is the amazing women in my life. Women who inspire, encourage, teach, love, cry with, fight for and accept me. I watch Super Soul Sunday every week, but I am very fortunate to have my own team of super stars.

I talk a lot about my BFF, which I have been advised is petty and immature. I think criticizing other people is also petty and immature. She is everything you could ask for in a friend, and I would lay down my life for her. The only problem is that she lives about 1100 miles away. The good thing is she lives in a perfect vacation spot so we get to visit her at least once a year. Still … that place is 1100 miles away.

We work it out though. We text constantly. She boycotts Facebook; I don’t blame her … the cons outweigh the pros sometimes on that front. We visit at least once a year and sometimes more. Our hearts are always connected even though we rarely talk on the phone because we both dislike talking on the phone, which brings me–finally, I know, right?–to today. My phone rang and it was my girl. Crazy, wonderful, unexpected surprise chats–or any kind of chats, really, with my forever friend are super soul nourishing.

3. These thank you’s are having some really profound effects in my life. I wasn’t prepared for the emotional roller coaster I was boarding.

I’m really grateful for the encouragement during this endeavor. Your comments, texts, likes and so forth mean so very much to me. It makes my heart happy when out of the blue someone shares that they identify with something I wrote. That’s really why I write. It’s therapeutic, and like my hero Anne Lamott advises, I write what I want to read. When I’m dealing with a trial, my first reaction is to read everything that is written about it. I love to read how other people’s deal with the situations I face. And I relate with people who are honest, flawed and real.
 

You know, people are gonna talk; like RuPaul said, “What other people say about me behind my back is none of my business.” (I had no idea who said that–thanks, Google. I was hoping it would be Eleanor Roosevelt. Whatever; it’s good advice.) Regardless of whether or not people choose to be my friend or read my blog or like me, it’s okay; I’m okay. I’m just meandering along my own path with some crazy amazing sidekicks. Writing helps me work through my stuff. And when you spend the first 20 years of your life smiling and pretending everything is awesome, when NEWSFLASH!!! It’s not, there’s a lot to work through. I never try to hurt anyone with my words. That’s not to say that sometimes the truth doesn’t hurt. As Brene Brown says, “Shame derives its power from being unspeakable.” When you tell your stories, you take that power back.

I have made wonderful friends, had great experiences and many moments of grace and healing because I dared to be vulnerable. I’ve shared my heart, my flaws, my experiences–good and bad–and people have bravely reached back. The power of camaraderie. The blessed words, “Me too.” That’s what this is all about. I’m not an attention whore. I’m not self-righteous. I’m certainly not mean and the opposite of miserable. I’m a flawed girl loved by a perfect God trying to make my tiny place in the world a little kinder.

xoxo

Books, Blogs, Bibles, and Bullies

I try hard to be real. I share my past, my struggles, my flaws, my shortcomings … some people think I share too much, but it is how I process experiences. Regardless of what I’m going through, I seek out books, articles, blogs by people who have been through a similar event.

For example, when my brother committed suicide, I read every book I could find about suicide. If you’re interested, The Suicide Index and History of a Suicide were amazing. I found understanding and comfort reading about how others dealt with these experiences. Additionally, reading, unlike talking, allowed me to process it in my own time, in my own space. I could walk away if I wanted and carry the words around when necessary.

Speaking of carrying words around, last week, my sister-in-law sent me a blog that I have read and reread about 42 times. This line: “…my counselor tells me to try not to give people my heart and the hammer to smash it with all at the same time…” has been rolling around in my head all week. My dad used to say, “If you walk around with your feelings hanging out, someone is going to step on them.” And in the wisdom of Proverbs 4, one of the lines we hear most is about guarding your heart. For me, it all points to this: Too often, in my efforts to be real and transparent, I give people ammunition.

One of my spiritual gifts is mercy, and I believe that part of my purpose in life is to listen–empathically and without judgment. People share stories with me. Deep, personal, often intimate stories. Mostly, I feel blessed to offer them a place to vent and unload. Sometimes, the level of personal information divulged is awkward and uncomfortable, but I seek to make the person feel heard and valued. Occasionally, I feel burdened and want to be left alone, but listening is what I do.

So…back to that article, my dad, and the Bible. Sometimes, I feel a false or inflated sense of camaraderie with people and divulge personal information of my own. You might think, “You say all kinds of reallllllly personal things here; what’s the difference?” You’re right. I try to share relevant relatable information so others can find validation and support. But sometimes, I can be even more vulnerable and transparent interpersonally. Historically it hasn’t worked out very favorably.

Let’s be real. In a moment of feeling it’s a safe place to share or having had one too many glasses of chardonnay, you confess to a friend that you are feeling really insecure about your recent weight gain. A week or so later, at lunch with the same friend, you order cheesecake for dessert, and she comments with one eye-brow cocked heavenward, “Ohhhh, you’re having dessert?” Whether or not she means anything by it, your feelings are hurt. You gave her your heart and the hammer, and she used them. Ouch.

I’ll be even more real, since I can finally laugh about this. When my kids were little everyone used to say how much they looked like Brad. When Chloe was a baby, one person said, “It doesn’t even look like YOU had anything to do with her.” It hurt my feelings, and I shared that with a few people. One of my closest friends kindly pointed out, “Yeah, your kids really don’t look anything like you.” Heart. Hammer. Boom. 

Side note: Not all my friends suck. My dear sweet girlfriend made Peyton a t-shirt with my baby picture on it so it was very, very clear just where he got his curls.

The point of this is not that my friends suck or your friends suck. Sometimes we give people ammunition. When they use it? It is because of something that is flawed or broken or lacking in them, and it says nothing about us. I’m gonna just write that again. It is because of something that is flawed or broken or lacking in THEM. Not us.

Have you ever secretly celebrated a friend’s misfortune–even a little? Ever felt a twinge of jealousy when something terrific happened for someone else when things weren’t going so well for you? I have. More times than I care to admit. When I was trying to get pregnant, I almost had to go into isolation because it made me so sad every time I saw or heard about another pregnant woman. That had nothing to do with them and everything to do with me.

Recently, I have been dealt a couple low blows, and my initial reaction was to feel hurt and ask myself what could trigger such meanness. Fortunately, I remembered that it isn’t my job to figure out what is going on in other people; that’s why God directed me off the counseling path. However, it is my job to be kind, to be loving, to forgive and to show mercy and empathy.

If someone has hurt you with their words, actions, or inactions, you don’t have to own that. It isn’t about you. When people use our vulnerability as a weapon to hurt us, they are bullies. And bullies are often frightened, hurting, and making a lot of noise and commotion to distract people away from their own vulnerabilities.

Whew. Namaste.