How much is enough?

Is it just me? 

Or does anybody else ever feel like you're not doing enough?

Not doing THIS enough and not doing THAT enough...?

Other people have expectations of us.

Social media sets up unrealistic standards.

It can be easy to feel like I should be doing more.

I should do this or that more often.

More frequently.

More regularly. 

More consistently.

Or I should care more.

I should be more available.

I should be better at this...

(And yes, that's a whole lot of should's but that's a subject for another time.)

What a set-up for discouragement!

What a load of guilt can get dumped on us!

...

But you know what?

We simply cannot do it all!

Certainly not all of the things that everybody wants us to do - and not even everything that we might think we ought to do.

...

One of the best things I've ever done is to stop and ask:

How much is enough?

How much should I be doing really?

What is realistic?

What is healthy?

Reasonable?

What lines up with who I am?

With the kind of person I want to be, but also with my priorities and responsibilities...

...

It's tough to be objective about whether we are doing enough - especially when other people's expectations are far different from ours.  Sometimes we have to compromise and sometimes we must experiment to see what will actually work.

One of my ongoing examples is writing.

I can easily feel like I'm not writing enough.

Oh, dear; am I writing enough?

Perhaps the more important question is:

How much is enough?

How often is appropriate?

How MUCH should I do each time?

(How many words, how many projects, how many hours...?)

How in the world

will I know if I'm doing enough

if I don't have a clue

how much I should be doing?!?

I’m happy to report that this process is helping - with my writing, with relationships, with chores, with outside commitments...

Now when I begin to feel like I'm not doing enough I can pause and think about my answers to that key question.  I can much more objectively see that "Yes, I am doing enough at this moment" or maybe admit "Oops; it is true that I need to do that one more time this week."

It was no fun to be stuck in subjectivity and always feeling like I wasn't doing enough. 

Or wasn't doing something OFTEN enough.

Or LONG enough.

Or whatever...

It feels so much more reasonable and healthy to be able to take a look at my goals and at the reality and to see whether adjustments need to be made to my schedule.  I suppose it is a type of self-accountability.

This is a tool to become a better person.

A dependable worker

A faithful friend

More consistent

More reasonable

More balanced

And definitely a healthier person

More satisfied and contented

It feels good to be consistently doing the things that are important.

I like myself a whole lot better... 

Where's the magic? I wonder

I’ve been wondering about something.

And I’ve been noticing some things.

I’ve noticed that sometimes we get all passionate and loud about things at election time. We vehemently proclaim that this one particular thing is THE MOST IMPORTANT thing.  That nothing else matters as much as this particular thing.

We get so passionate about THAT THING that we will go against our own better judgment on other very important things.

I think I get that - although it seems to me to be an unfortunate way to live.

I wonder if we are missing something.

I wonder if we are being unwise and untrue to our own conviction when we use this "all or nothing" approach.  When we put all of our hope and faith in one person or one party.

...

Yep, I wonder about things.

That's a big part of what this blog is about.

You are welcome to listen in to some of my wonderings, but I should probably warn you that this one might get a little long.  Because yah, I seem to be wondering about complicated things lately. Things that don't have simple solutions.

I wonder for example about those of us who are pro-life. We celebrate the sanctity of human life and we might say that this is THE most important issue - so important that we even consider putting someone in office that otherwise we really do NOT want. Someone that we would be ashamed to tell our grandkids we voted for.

I wonder about other examples - like Black Lives Matter. I could wonder if this is THE MOST IMPORTANT issue - and can understand that it IS for many people. I can even understand how someone could be so passionate about this that they can barely think about anything else.

Or maybe my issue is the refugee dilemma.  Maybe we believe that welcoming refugees needs to be a top priority. Maybe we believe that it is foundational to who America is. Or maybe we believe that we have a Biblical mandate to welcome the alien and refugee.

...

I get it. 

I get that we can become pretty passionate about the issues that we think are the most important ones.  And I think that’s a good thing.

But the thing I wonder about is how we can get so passionate and so loud about our most important issue at one time of the year - and yet at other times of the year we don’t seem to be doing anything about that issue.  

Do we think that the ballot box is magic? 

Do we think it is the only place to connect with that “thing” - and to pour out our passion? 

Are we maybe even a little bit happy to “forget” about that passion and tension the rest of the year?

But then there’s something else I wonder about.  

What about the fact that we sometimes collectively elect “the right person” that is supposed to fix this thing - but then it doesn’t get fixed? What happened to the magic?

By the way, I’m preaching to myself here.  I’ve been around this election cycle a few times. Well, and I’ve lived similar cycles in my own life. My own personal priorities. I can generate passion and lots of noise and determination for a season - only to realize months later that I’ve lost the passion or have forgotten to follow-through - or at least that the magic didn’t happen.  

...

Maybe I mostly wonder if there is anything that we can do about it all.

Are there other ways to “fix the problem” beyond that one moment? 

Other avenues besides (and alongside) the voting booth?

...

Okay; let's take these examples one at a time...

I remember a long, long time ago when I was a loud pro-lifer and was confronted by a couple different people who quietly challenged me and the harshness of my words. That was probably when I began to wonder if there were other ways to make a difference.  Maybe even better ways.

Back in those days, our wonderings led us to challenge ourselves. To do some research. To take some risks. To fill our house with kids who needed a family.  

But now at this moment I wonder again. I wonder what else I can do to value the sanctity of human life. I’m not up to taking in any more foster kids, but maybe I can find ways to reach out to the single moms in our building.  I can offer words of encouragement to the frazzled mom with a bunch of kids in Walmart rather than express my silent impatience with her or them.

What about you? If you consider yourself pro-life, what can you do besides that one moment in the voting booth?  Because here’s the thing.  If we find a whole bunch of other things (or even one or two!) that we can do to protect human life…  AND if we actually DO them… Well, do you know what? We can do those “other” things NO MATTER who gets elected. And maybe... Probably... that's where the magic comes.

…

Or what about my other examples?

Maybe we passionately believe that black lives matter.  

I wonder what we can do about that.

I DO believe that black lives matter and my heart is crushed about the fear and the agony and pain facing black mommas across the country. Well, and not just black mommas, but also white mommas with black sons.  I am saddened about the hopelessness that so many black teenagers face and I wish that I could make things better.  I know that so many things don’t work, and I can’t help but wonder what WILL work. 

More specifically, I wish I knew something that I can do personally. After living in white farm country all my life, I now live where I actually see black faces in my neighborhood and at the store, but still I wonder.  I often feel clueless.  As I’m out for my walk, I watch for opportunities to bump into my neighbors and wish I could find ways to reach out to them. Sometimes I “rehearse” kind things that maybe I can say. Yah, maybe I’m silly, and I sure feel like I'm not doing much, but I want to make a difference. To affirm value.

What about you?

Do you live in circumstances where you can make a difference for black lives? 

Have you found ways to reach out and lift someone from discouragement or fear?

Maybe we can teach each other. 

I wonder.

…

And what about those refugees?

When we see the bruised and bloody faces on TV, it can be so overwhelming.

What in the world can we do?

How can we help?

When I feel like I can’t make a dent in this horrific mess, I sometimes have to remind myself that maybe I can make a difference to one. And maybe to another. 

Maybe I can speak a kind word to the girl wearing the beautiful hijab at the Farmers’ Market.

Maybe I can offer a chair or a smile.

When I read about ex-pat families who are driven out of their homes because of the relentless bullying and even violence, I wonder what in the world I can do. 

And so I continue to think and ponder and wonder.

I can watch for faces and listen for accents that are different than mine and try to offer human kindness.

I remember what it feels like to be the ex-pat.

That feeling of being a spectacle. All. The. Time.

An outsider.

May I never forget.

I want to do what I can to welcome those in exile.

But I make mistakes.

Goofs. Big ones

Faux pas

But hopefully I do more to make people feel welcome and affirmed and valued than I do to make them feel like outsiders.  Hopefully.

Certainly one moment in a voting booth is not going to be magic.

Maybe the only way to make the magic happen is to do it in real time.

In real life.

Maybe we can find one REAL thing we can actually DO to make a difference in the area that we think is so important. 

To make the world a better place for one of these human lives that we are passionate about.

To be a real-life super-hero...

…

Remember that I’m mostly talking to myself here.

Wondering. Pondering.
But maybe you wonder, too.
Maybe you can help me think of things that I/we can actually do.

When I hear myself saying that I am passionate about “this” or "that"…

When I notice myself getting worked up about whether my candidate will win…

When I begin to tune out heart-breaking news stories because I feel overwhelmed…

I wonder…

I wonder what I can do. Besides the voting booth.

I wonder who I can help.

I wonder how I can at least promote civil discussion.

I wonder if I can be a catalyst to find common ground so that we can work together.

We might say it is the least we can do, but I wonder if maybe it is the best thing.

The best place to start.

Because I probably can’t do much by myself.

Maybe you feel like you can’t make a difference.

But what if we keep talking and listening?

What if we work together?

Maybe that’s where the magic is.

I wonder…

The first month back

Once upon a time we were driving along rice paddies and rows and rows of tall palm trees on a palm oil plantation. It had been a good winter in Las Galeras, a little town at the end of the road in the Dominican Republic. We had adjusted to the heat and humidity and maybe even the mosquitos. We were happy with our decision to live closer to town this time. How fun to be able to walk into town each day - for groceries, for French pastries or just to walk the beach. Many days I made more than one trip to town and sometimes accomplished all of the above. But on that particular day we were enroute to the airport to fly home to the good ole’ USA - and had already turned our thoughts to the new happenings on our calendar and especially to our family. 

Once back in Michigan, the first week saw us both sick with whatever stomach bug was making the rounds and surviving an ice storm in our little RV but we also had time to hang out with our kids and grands and both of our moms. We also checked out an apartment that was immediately available to rent - and we decided to take it! Somewhere in there, life got  busy. Soon we were choosing a few things from the RV to take to the new place and moving things from our storage unit. Many of the bins and boxes have not been opened since we moved out of the big house four years ago. We succeeded in emptying the storage unit well before the deadline. Major accomplishment.

And THEN we cared for grand-kids for five days while Mom and Dad attended a conference out-of-state. That week brought great fun, much laughter, lots of hugs, AND total exhaustion for Gramp and Gram.

But, oh what fun to be available to do that! This is exactly why we made the decision to stay put for awhile - to help out with these little guys and just to be near enough to enjoy special occasions with them. Events like a super-hero race!

So here we are - entering a new phase of life. Looking forward to good times ahead. Enjoying the chance to settle down and stay in one place for awhile. Having fun exploring our new community. But no, we are not abandoning travel. To the contrary Bob has already been studying maps to plan the next adventure, but this time with a small home base to come back to in between.

And yes, we will continue to wander about here and there. Now and then.

…

In many ways living in Las Galeras is quite different than living in Michigan. And yet some things are actually pretty similar.

• While in the tropics, I was always hot and sweaty; here I can enjoy wearing sleeves and extra layers.
• While there our schedule was pretty simple; here things can get hectic if we let them.
• Down there I could walk along the beach every morning. Not here.
• Down there we did not have a vehicle - so we walked wherever we needed to go. Here we can jump in our truck and drive pretty much anywhere.
• Down there; I missed my grand-kids badly. Now I can get to them within an hour or two.
• Down there I hauled the laundry down the stairs to wash it and then back up when it was clean. Here in our new apartment, I do pretty much the same routine.
• While in Las Galeras, we could seldom get ice cream; here we can find about any flavor we want.
• Down there we didn’t drink the water; here at our daughter’s house in Flint, Michigan, we don’t drink the water either. At least we try to remember not to…

Sunday morning musings

I wonder whether there will be pro-life teaching from the pulpits of America today.

I wonder if there will be reference to Good News.

I wonder if there will be messages of peace on earth and good will toward all men.

I wonder whether there will be any preaching about loving our neighbors as ourselves. Or will there be talk about protecting ourselves against them?

I wonder if there will be discussion about the words of Jesus when he said to turn the other cheek. Specifically in Missionary Churches where I grew up, I wonder whether there is still any consideration for our Mennonite roots.  For a call to non-violence.

I wonder if anyone will ask what Jesus would do.

I wonder.

Introduce yourself

Tell Us About Yourself
Today's assignment: introduce yourself

...

Yes, that was the assignment in my writing group this morning. I actually don't often follow the prompts suggested there, but hey, I sure do like to talk about myself - so why not?

...

So hello there. I'm Kaye and I'm a writer.
I write. And I walk. And I wonder and I wander.

I have lived in Michigan pretty much all of my life - except for those four years in college just across the state line. And except for that year when we lived in the Dominican Republic 20-some years ago. Well, and now these last few months that we've been living on the road. Yes, we sold our Christmas tree farm and moved into our 29-foot fifth-wheel RV.

I never thought I'd see the day when I would leave Michigan. I couldn't have imagined letting go of that little chunk of property that had been in my family for three generations and that we shaped into a home and a retreat center where we raised our three girls and a whole bunch of other kids. Nor did I ever envision myself being a snow bird - I suppose because I have always loved winter. But here I am - willingly letting my hubby drag me to warmer climates where I can indulge my very favorite form of physical exercise, beach walking, pretty much every day. I had recently discovered that it's not safe for this aging body to do my daily walking on snow and ice so I didn't drag my feet very long about this change.

I have been a teacher and a learner and a mom and a mentor and a minister and a counselor and a consultant and a life coach. A couple of those roles have even generated income for me, but they have pretty much all brought me joy along with opportunities for stretching and growing.

In recent years I've discovered that I am also a writer. It was a struggle to get to the point where I could say that out loud. I had lots of fears about calling myself a writer and lots of questions about whether I really could be one. Long story short: I decided that I am a writer because I write. Or maybe I write because I'm a writer. Whatever.

I write about a wide variety of things - many of which are reflected on my blog.

The most basic and probably the most important step I've taken as a writer is to develop the habit of writing every day. Early on in this quest I discovered that most serious writers require themselves to write a certain number of words per day. Some suggest 300 words a day and some say 1000, but it seems that most recommend 500 words. I started my intentional daily habit with a goal of 300 words a day and quite soon bumped it up to 500 which I've done fairly regularly for many years now.

Once a year I participate in National Novel Writing Month and push myself to crank out 2000 words a day. After my latest time of writing that many words, I decided maybe I didn't want to drop back to only 500. Instead I've settled in at around 800 to 1000 words per day. And I like it. Yep, I discovered that I like myself when I am cranking out words. Now if only I'd figure out how to get more of them published. I guess it's a good thing that I don't normally use money as a measure of success!

Then again, I do publish quite a few of those words - on my blog as well as in a few other settings. My blog provides a spot to post some of my ramblings about things that I wonder about as well as the places we wander. My wonderings and my wanderings. I write about faith and my questions about faith. I write about grace. I write about fear and doubt. I write about simplicity. I write about wonder and awe. I am fascinated with people and culture and language and food and diversity and this amazing planet. I would like to write more about each of those. And so I keep writing.

And I keep walking.
And I keep wondering and wandering.
I hope I will continue to be filled with wonder.

So hey, how about you?
I often wonder who really reads my posts and wish I could get acquainted with you. I would LOVE it if you would take a minute to introduce yourself in the comments below.
Tell me something that you love or something that stirs you up.
Or tell me what you do or where you live.
Maybe tell me about your favorite role. The hat you get to wear that you love the most. Or the least.
Please...

Your assignment, should you choose to accept it:

Introduce yourself.

 

Tough choices, deep sacrifices, and hard work

What started out as a blog post with maybe two parts has multiplied into some sort of series, I guess. I've wondered and wandered around and rambled on about how in the world we got here, about how blessed we are, about the fact that choices matter, and about us realizing that we could take action to change our circumstances - that we didn't need to stay stuck where we were.

So what kind of action did we take? What changes did we make?

Those changes seem to fall into three categories: decisions, sacrifices, and hard work. And let me say that some of the decisions were agonizing, some of the sacrifices were painful and much of the work was really hard. The cost was high, but yes, the results were worth it.
You might think I'm being a wimp about something that seems like a piece of cake for you. but hey; I might observe your struggle and wonder why it is so hard for you, why you would struggle with that.

Here's the deal.

• What is tough for me might be fairly easy for someone else. 
• What feels really hard for you might not be difficult for me.
• We each have our own battles. Our own things that are crazy hard.

So what were those decisions, those sacrifices, and that hard work?

Here are a few examples of things that were tough for me:
 

What types of decisions?

• To change our thinking
• To simplify & downsize
• To let go of extras: extra dishes, extra books, extra clothes, extra supplies, big containers, stuff to feed an army

What sacrifices?

• Our home, our gathering place
• The legacy of Hidden Hollows
• Guest rooms
• Space & spaciousness
• Solitude, peace and quiet

What hard work?

• Retraining ourselves
• Sorting & pitching
• An agonizing mental and emotional process
• Discipline, diligence, persistence

...

Obviously, someone else's list might look quite different from mine. It is not intended to be a one-size-fits-all sampling. This simply explains a bit of the process that we've gone through and continue to work on.

As I've mentioned in the earlier posts of this little series, we had no clue what it would take or whether we would be up to the task. But here we are on this end - or maybe we're still smack-dab in the middle of the process. At any rate, we have made some tough decisions, we've given up some things so that we could trade for other things, we've figured out tentative steps to take and we've tackled them one at a time. And yes, we have seen big changes. And yes, we still shake our heads in wonder at it all.


...

   Continue with the next post...

           ... or see the entire series here. 
 

 

What if...?

I've shaken my head and marveled about how in the world we got here. I've marveled about the fact that sometimes blessings just come our way. That good things happen to us for which we can take no credit. I don't know how that works, but I am grateful. At the same time I realize that the things that happen to us do not always feel like good things - which can be a topic for another time.

But yes, there is another side to the story of how we got from there to here. It is all about choices. There are certainly times when we can alter our circumstances by the choices we make and the changes we implement.

Choices matter. Choices make a difference. Choices are powerful.

'Tis a topic well explored by authors and bloggers as well as preachers and teachers.

Make good choices. Make wise choices.

Break bad habits; build good ones.

I am a creature of habit. My natural tendency is to get stuck in a familiar groove and not be able to see any other options. I can be needlessly blocked by obstacles.

We are not wealthy. We don't have a huge retirement fund. We don't have financial resources piled up and available to us. How could we afford to follow our dreams? To do whatever it is that retired people do? How could we afford to travel to warmer climates? How can we travel at all?

It was easy to assume that we were stuck. That we'd never be able to do those things because we just couldn't afford it. But somewhere along the line we were challenged to get creative. To brainstorm ways that we might be able to actually do some of the things that seemed unattainable. To recognize the assets that we did have and to imagine how we could utilize them.

I remember the day we were talking with friends about one of our seemingly unattainable dreams. I made a simple statement about not being able to afford it. One friend replied, "Unless you sell this place" - meaning our house, our farm, our home. Which was unthinkable to me at the moment.

So that was that. Selling our place was not an option so we tucked that dream aside in the impossible category and settled back into the familiar. The thought of selling popped up again a time or two but was never really considered.

Until one night... Years later. One of us dared to utter the thought, "maybe we should sell this place" - and the other one dared to agree. Maybe we should. Maybe we could. Maybe we would then be able to afford a fifth-wheel camper and to travel.... Maybe. Or maybe we could go overseas again. Or maybe... Maybe we could consider things we had never imagined.

The unthinkable had become thinkable. Could the impossible become possible? Who knew? But simply choosing to talk about it changed the game for us that night. Now we could begin to think creatively. Why? Because that obstacle might not have to continue being an obstacle.

The wise among us know that we can't have it all, but that late night discussion helped us begin to realize that we could maybe trade one thing for another.

...

Was it really possible? Who knew? But something had changed. Something had been awakened. Something had moved from the realm of impossibility to at least maybe.

And so discussion could begin. Did we really want to do this? Did we even want to think about it? What would it mean? How could it work? Was it even possible? We had no idea. All we could do was to decide whether to take the next step in even discussing the idea.

And so it began. One tiny step at a time. Unlocking that door had been a huge step. Deciding to step through it was another.

...

Why had it been previously impossible to consider? I guess because we were comfortable. We were living the American dream. Well, part of it anyway. We had a wonderful house on a lovely piece of land. We had built it and we loved it. It provided safety and security. It was home - the only home our kids had ever known. I never would have imagined that we would ever give it up so I never considered it as an option.

But once we dared to talk about it, then I guess we began to imagine what it would be like - with all its pros and cons. It did NOT happen overnight. It did not happen in a week or a month and it did not happen quickly, but it did begin to happen. We began the process of letting go - first by deciding to let go. Only then could we begin to see the possibilities.

...

That was only the beginning.

The process would be monumental.

But we began.

We began to talk and dream and strategize.

We began to downsize.

We began to make tough choices.

We had no clue about how long it would take or even if we were up to the task, but we began.

We are not experts. We are not financial wizards, neither are we downsizing gurus. We didn't know what we were doing. We didn't know what steps to take. But we began.

We just tried to figure out the next step and work on that. And then another.

We began.

     Continue with the next post...

            ... or see the entire series here.

That which cannot be earned

In a recent post, I asked the question "How in the world did we get here?" - which may not really be a question. At least I don't know that I was expecting to find an answer. I don't know that there is an answer - or maybe there are several. Maybe instead of being a question to answer, maybe it is simply a question to ponder. Cause to wonder. Perhaps cause FOR wonder.

It may be fun to speculate a bit, but with a touch of wariness. There are tons of crazy beliefs and philosophies out there about how or why we get blessed, about whether someone "deserves" to be privileged, etc. but most of them are pretty wacky and are probably best taken with a grain of salt. While there may be certain factors at play as to why some people are privileged, there are a couple things that stand out to me.

I tend to believe that certain things are simply beyond our control. That there is nothing we can do to earn our blessings. That so many of the things we enjoy are simply gifts. Gifts of grace. I don't believe that I deserve to be this fortunate nor do I believe that millions deserve to be born into poverty.

There was no way that I could have earned the right to be one of the cancer survivors nor do I deserve the other blessings I have been given. Therefore I have no reason for bragging nor for entitlement.

So when we shake our heads and wonder "How in the world did we get here?" I guess we're not really asking a question. I think we are mostly marveling at it all. Just shaking our heads in wonder and amazement. And appreciation and gratitude.

...

     Continue with the next post...
          ... or see the entire series here.
 

Goodbye and hello

Once upon a time, when I was settled down in my comfortable life and couldn't imagine ever leaving, I remember feeling sorry for friends who moved away. I couldn't understand why they would choose to pull up roots or how they could be okay with it. Somehow it seemed to me that leaving would be more painful than good.

Today we are the ones who have pulled up roots and are heading out. Some of our friends look at us and just sort of shake their heads. I can imagine some of the things they might be thinking... and some of them actually tell us. There seems to be a bit of astonishment at least and probably wonder - wondering how or why we would do such a thing. Most often there is an acknowledgment that it must be really hard. And yes, there are hard parts to it. The good-byes and the letting go, but there is also excitement. Things we look forward to. Things we choose to be our new life.

Hubby says it well: You say good-bye and I say hello.

CTCA - a place of hope

This is quite the place. It is always changing.

I am referring to Cancer Treatment Centers of America - at Midwestern Regional Medical Center in Zion, Illinois.

Yes, it is quite the place and it is always changing. All kinds of changes. Construction projects. Unbelievable. Every time I'm here there are major changes. I mean MAJOR - especially when I come only once a year. One time it was a huge gym in a whole new corner of the third floor. One year new guest quarters - a whole four-story hotel - serving only CTCA guests. This year there is a whole new main entrance and lobby on the far corner from where the entrance has always been. And they have taken out the parking lot and are building a brand new building. Before that they put in a five-level parking garage. Bizarre.

Doing this much construction means doing away with other buildings - several houses and a church so far. Yesterday they started tearing down one of the beautiful landmark houses across the street. A woman on the shuttle this morning may have spoken for others when she said it makes her heart-sick - even though there is much excitement about the advancements and improvements happening around here.

It is a phenomenal place in other ways as well. Patients and their care-givers are treated as guests - because the place was founded for the purpose of treating cancer patients with compassion and dignity while fighting cancer and saving lives. Very impressive it is. And very efficient. The way they provide limo service to/from the airport and shuttle services to/from the hotels - is just one of the amazing things they do to take care of us.

But then the people! It is the people that I intended to talk about. People from all over the country. People with all types of cancer and in all stages. People here for treatment and people here for follow-up care. People here for two days or three months or more. People in recovery and people on oxygen.

The diversity of their conditions is bizarre. Part of me feels depressed to meet so many people who are in late stages of cancer - while another part of me feels almost guilty for feeling so well. It scares me to hear their stories and to think about eventualities. But it also makes me incredibly grateful that I AM doing so well and grateful for places like this - that are fighting cancer so aggressively and effectively. A place that offers hope to so many who had nearly given up hope when they first came here. A place that fights cancer one person at a time.

I can't help but wonder about the future of those filling this dining room this morning and those that I have met during this visit. I can't help but wonder about my own future. And I can't help but think about loved ones I've lost to this horrible disease. Therefore I can't help but be thankful for great strides that are being made in the quest to bring cancer under control.

...

Of course, it is also a place making big money. A place charging big money - which means that a lot of people can't come here - which is another whole topic. Another reason to feel conflicted. To be grateful to be among the privileged, but to be aware and compassionate toward those who aren't.

...

As for feeling weird about being one of the lucky ones in a place where so many futures are scary... Well, I guess I need not worry about that. To the contrary, people get excited for me. After I got my test results this morning and learned that everything was good, a couple different people discovered that fact and immediately got so excited. One young woman said, "I'd be dancing around the room!" and then she proceeded to tell others my good news. A man and his son at the next table perked up their ears and looked at me with hope in their eyes when they heard I'm still around 10 years later. Yay!!! I like that. I don't mind being an symbol of hope - even if it is through no merit of my own.

So THAT's what's wrong with me!

 

I used to wonder what was wrong with me. Or at least I used to get frustrated with certain of my tendencies. Tendencies like being a great starter but a lousy finisher. Like letting my FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) lure me away from getting things done and meeting my own deadlines. Like my intense interest in so many kinds of projects, jobs, ideas, etc. Like my inability to decide between all of the wonderful options. Like my uncanny ability to gather and remember connections with people from around the world, but not knowing whether/how could be a positive thing. Like my longing to take this class and that course just because I wanted to learn about it, but had no idea how to use it for any financial benefit.

I was intrigued by my idiosyncrasies, but was sometimes embarrassed by them as well. I guess I often felt that I was weird. Abnormal. A misfit and maybe even a loser - because of my perceived failure to follow through on supposedly important things.

I finally began to realize that those idiosyncrasies are a special part of my uniqueness and I am mostly happy about them now. I am intrigued by them and by wondering where they will lead.

As I have gradually begun to accept and celebrate the benefits of the complex being that is me, one of the things that has helped me is the idea that I am a multipotentialite. Yep, there is a name for this! For people like me. How fun!!! I bumped into Puttylike a couple years ago and quickly identified with the things discussed on this site. I discovered others who are learning to celebrate their own multipotentialite selves. Learning how others make the most of their multipotentiality has been beneficial to my own journey.

Over at Puttylike, Emilie Wapnick describes a multipotentialite as "a person who has many different interests and creative pursuits in life."

Multipotentialites have no "one true calling" the way specialists do. Being a multipotentialite is our destiny. We have many paths and we pursue all of them, either sequentially or simultaneously (or both). Multipotentialites thrive on learning, exploring, and mastering new skills. We are excellent at bringing disparate ideas together in creative ways. This makes us incredible innovators and problem solvers. When it comes to new interests that emerge, our insatiable curiosity leads us to absorb everything we can get our hands on. As a result, we pick up new skills fast and tend to be a wealth of information.

One area particularly affected by my multipotentiality is my writing. I recently enrolled in a writing course as a major step toward becoming a serious writer. One of the first lessons was about finding your voice - which seemed to mean that I would have to drastically narrow my focus. A couple years earlier when I first started my blog, I hadn't a clue what I really wanted to write about. Somehow I had the foresight at that time to pick a name that has ended up being an umbrella for the diverse topics I have since found myself writing about - from my travel wanderings to my theological wonderings and everything in between. As I worked my way through that writing course, I chose to be patient with myself and to wait and see what would emerge - rather than forcing myself to arbitrarily narrow my focus. I am now rather happy with that decision. Even though I can easily admit that my wandering writing may lose me readership, I can also celebrate the broad diversity that I have ended up writing about. Most importantly I have been writing for me rather than trying to please a faceless audience. Presumably I will continue to learn more about writing for an audience and about building a readership, but writing for me has been a healthy start to my blogging career.

...

So yes, I am a multipotentialite and am enjoying the discovery of what all that might mean in my life. I can now celebrate this diversity that is within me. And I am realizing that many of my friends are also multipotentialites as well.

What about you? Might this describe you as well?

 

Easy as A, B, C - a writing assignment

What's wrong with the world? What makes me angry?

Injustice makes me angry - whether on the macro level or in "normal" life. Abuse makes me angry - whether verbal, emotional, sexual or spiritual. When you boil down the various forms of abuse and injustice, I guess you could say that it is a lack of respect for our fellow man. And along with that is a lack of civility everywhere you look - at least in our country - that seems to make it impossible to carry on a conversation that might help to improve the quality of life for us all.

So how do we fight injustice if we can't even agree to be civil with each other enough to discuss problems and solutions.

Whether the topic is about human rights or the economy or government or values and beliefs or how to measure success, it can be difficult to find a safe place to dialog. So many things people say are flat-out conversation-stoppers.

So when I hear someone spout some hateful bigoted declaration, it sets me off. It makes me angry, but it also makes me cry. It makes me feel helpless - which is not a good feeling for a fixer!

Yep, that's what makes me mad. I get so upset that I want to post my own strong statements about it. I want to speak out the perfect zinger that will make the offenders pause and realize their brutality - or at least their gross insensitivity. But then I realize I might also be guilty of not respecting those on the other side of the issue. Or someone whose perspective I do not understand. ACK!!!

So then I think maybe I should just shut up - because maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. Well, and because I really don't like confrontation.

But then I feel like a coward.

What's a wimp like me supposed to do about injustice in the world anyway? How can I stand up to bullies and how can I be a peacemaker when I am quaking in my boots?

There is much that I cannot do, but I am learning that there are things that I can do.

I can stretch myself by learning what life is like for people different than me.

I can celebrate diversity.

I can speak with a calm tone when others are raving mad.

I can describe what it feels like to be oppressed and scared.

I can speak worth to those who are degraded.

I can respect those with whom I disagree.

I can choose to let civility be my guide.

I can create safe places in my sphere of influence. In my conversations. In my social relationships. On my Facebook page. On my blog.

I can challenge those around me to let themselves be stretched by knowledge and understanding.

...

Because I tend to be fearful when I'm in a place that is obviously unsafe, I understand how important safety is for growth and healing. So this might be my mission: to create safe places.

But it is hard. Hard to push myself to be civil and respectful. Hard to go the extra mile and invest the extra effort to get the facts and understand the feellings.

I do not have all the answers - and haven't even thought of all the questions. BUT I do know some steps that I can take. One. At. A. Time...

Civil conversation

Diversity

Empathy

Freedom

Grace

...

Well, look at that. I seem to have slipped into an old habit of alphabetizing my list. What do you know?

Sure enough, maybe it's not so hard after all. In fact, maybe it's as easy as A, B, C...

D, E, F...

...
Sure; why not?

Respect

Safety

Tolerance

Understanding

Value

Worth...

Yep, I guess there are things that I can do - and that I can encourage others to do.
Simple, basic things.
Important things.