letting go and hanging on

Last night I celebrated the end of 2009 with my two, wonderful sisters, all dressed up and out for a night on the town. So it seems quite appropriate that I welcomed the beginning of 2010 with a lazy morning in my uggs, all curled up on the couch with absolutely no plans for the afternoon.

I am convinced that one of the reasons this time of year with all of its' fancy festivities and holiday traditions is so hard for many people is because it comes with a lot of expectations.

Sometimes there are expectations that I call the "keep it the way it is" expectation. These are the desires to keep things the way they are simply because this is the way it's always been. These are the people who hang on to the tradition and the routine just because. It's seems a bit ironic, but expecting things to stay the same, the way they’ve always been, is still an expectation.

And then there are the other kind of expectations, the kinds that hope and imagine what it could be like it if only…(fill in the blank). I call these the "wouldn't-it-be-great-if-it-could-be-like-this" kind of expectations. These are the people (ahem, yes me) who constantly are on the lookout for how to make things better or improved. These are the expectations that long for something new, something different.

But regardless of which camp you fall in, the reality is when there are expectations, there are also disappointments. Expectations lock you into a stand still and don't leave much space for change or flexibility or…surprises.

I have been thinking a lot about expectations lately. I have always been one of those people that holds high expectations for myself, my job, my family and basically, for everything else in life. But often these expectations leave me just a tad bit disappointed and discouraged because nothing seems to quite measures up to my expectations, even myself. I honestly think sometimes it's easier to go through life without having any expectations— and then anything that happens is better than you expected!

But I know it’s not quite that simple. At least not for me.

A friend of mine gave me this passage a few weeks ago. It's an excerpt from Helen Cepero's book Journaling as a Spiritual Practice. She describes the tension and limitations with expectations far better than I can:

“Understanding the difference between hope and expectation is critical if we are to allow our future to be shaped by God. Hope longs for good but is able to be flexible about how that good might appear. Expectation grasps at solutions and becomes easily attached to outcomes. When we are hopeful, our imagination and creativity flourish. But when we are locked into expectations, it is easy to turn our pictures of the possible future into an idol."

"Expectations assume that everything will turn out as predicted…but sometimes our expectations must die in order for us to live in hope. When our expectations are dashed our prayer then needs to look toward the God who is not only with us but also is in front of us, forming a future that we cannot yet imagine happening out of our own effort"

I have started to ponder what expectations in my own life need to die in order for me to live in hope. It's a humbling process, but one that I want to embark on during 2010.

This is my prayer for the year:

Lord, in my pride and insecurity I often take matters into my own hands. I try to create and build my future by my own effort, littered with my own expectations. I can become so attached to specific outcomes that I miss your mysterious presence walking with me in the process. I want my expectations to die, so I can live in hope.

May you too live in hope during the coming year.

Happy New Year!

Watch Me

My family has vacationed out in Palm Desert almost every year since I was barely able to read. Thanks to Grandma's condo and the completion of the 210 freeway, “the Desert" as we call it, quickly became our go-to, easy, vacation spot.

(point of reference: Palm Desert is located 10 miles east of Palm Springs and right in the middle of Retirement central. The median age is somewhere close to 65 and there are probably more golf courses and palm trees than they are people. really. Not exactly the most kid friendly place)

When we were younger the best part by far was the abundance of swimming pools. And when it's 100 plus degrees outside and you're under the age of 14 the only thing there really is to do out there is: go swimming. So that's what we did. And every day we would "pool hop" to one of the gzillion pools around the country club.

Somewhere in time we crossed over to the adult, albeit boring side of life, where we neglected the "pool hopping" and swimming days of our youth and replaced it with sun bathing and chaise lounge-ing. And that is exactly what we did this vacation. Sat. Read. Napped. Ate. And relaxed by the pool. This is all wonderful and serene and peaceful, until some little eager kid, complete with floaties and goggles yells, "watch me, watch me." And then the dutiful, doting parent lifts their head and watches for that magical moment as the darling child jumps off the edge into the water. Followed by the usual, monotone response "hmm. oh wow, honey."

And then the cycle repeats. Mom, mom. Watch me. Parent sighs. Looks up. Watches. Child completes the less than impressive feat. Parent gives an ooooo and awwwww. and then again. Here we go. On Monday my sisters and I sat at the pool and were victims to this continuous cycle as two little girls, who under normal circumstances would have been considered quite cute, bickered and badgered to demand their mom’s attention.

Mom, watch me. Watch me.

Now, I am sure I did this as a kid. I am sure I repeatedly yelled, "Mom, watch me. Watch me" as I attempted what felt like very significant accomplishments at the time (e.g. diving off the edge of the pool or holding my breath under water for more than 15 seconds). In fact I cannot imagine what it was like for my parents to have four little voices yelling at once, watch me. no watch me. no, watch me. Each one of us expecting attention and praise; each one of us expressing this deep desire to be noticed and watched.

I cannot remember the last time I actually said to one of my parents, hey watch me. watch me. Maybe as we get older our obvious need for constant affirmation and attention for the impressive tricks we do at the pool diminishes. But sometimes I wonder if there is still some part of me that longs for someone to affirm me and notice who I am or what I do.

Obviously I don't walk down the street or parade through the school hallway, yelling at people to "watch me. watch me." That would just be weird. And annoying. I think part of what it means to grow-up is to develop a healthy sense of self that is not completely contingent on fickle praise or attention that we may or may not receive. However, I sometimes wonder if in this "growing-up" process we also lose touch with our basic human need for affirmation.

I believe there is there some deep part of everyone (yes, everyone...the young, old, adolescent, single, married, etc.) that is saying "watch me." Some people may demand it bluntly and boldly, commanding attention from a group as they speak from the stage. They're talking about politics and policies, but really they're saying, "watch me." Other people elicit it in more mysterious, subtle ways. They wrap themselves in culture, books and art and then drape a beautiful scarf around their shoulders. On the outside they are conveying a cautious smile and gentle eyes, but really they're saying, "watch me."

I think somewhere along the way, somewhere between play days in the pool and the adult world I now inhabit, I have been socialized to believe that we should be humble and not demand people's attention (and there is definitely some truth to that) but I think sometimes we miss the whole picture. I am not advocating for more self-centered, attention-seeking people to come claim their glory in the limelight. No, not at all. On the contrary I am learning that there is something very healthy and I believe good about being able to both watch others and with it offer a sincerity of praise and affirmation and yet, still also learn how to ask, "watch me?"

2 weeks

It is Monday morning and I am not in school. Usually at this time I would be in 2nd period, taking attendance and reminding my ever-so forgetful freshmen to take out their silent reading books, but not today. nope. Today I am sitting in my pajamas with uggs on my feet and a cup of tea in my hands. And it is glorious.

I like many things about my job, but the fact that I am 27 and still get a 2-week Christmas vacation is definitely up there! It's a rough life, but someone's gotta do it.

Here's to Winter Break, 2 week vacations and no bells dictating the structure of my day.

Christmas Sans Internet

For the past 10 days we have not had internet at the house. Something happened with our cable or modem and thus interrupted the usual, continuous flow of wireless signals that keeps me and my computer connected to the outside world. After a few initial days of withdrawals and lamenting frustrations that I could not return emails from home or read my favorite blogs or peruse half.com for book deals, I actually started to like life without internet.

I started to like evenings without my computer. I started to like the freedom that comes from being able to say I'll do it tomorrow, instead of feeling pressure to get everything done today. I started to like that my main form of communication with friends was not through some virtual wall, but through real life, face-to-face conversations. And I started to notice that during this Christmas season, one that often feels too busy and over scheduled, I have actually had more time to soak it up and enjoy it. Instead of dreading the stress and sometimes loneliness of Christmas, I have felt really, really thankful.

There have been nights with friends over for dinner and too many rounds of speed scrabble. Christmas music and red wine with my roommates. I remembered how much I like writing old fashioned letters and making little crafty projects. I got to enjoy fires in our fireplace. Serving dinner at the Rescue Mission. Christmas parties with friends. Lots of tea drinking and movie watching. I learned how to make tamales and was introduced to pozolé for the first time. And I even managed to crawl into bed a little bit earlier most nights.


Now, internet and computers and any type of life-enhancing-technological device for that matter are obviously not bad, but we'd be naive to dismiss the fact that they do change something. And despite all the hype about making our life easier and more efficient, I actually believe they do quite the opposite. The megabytes of information that are flashed before us and the instant gratification of texting a message in a 140 characters or less affect how we live and think and interact with each other. I am not some fanatic who is going to do away with my cell phone and computer and the convenience of modern technology. No, of course not...like you I enjoy it and use it daily. But I am coming to believe that many of the ways we interact relationally and even how we structure our daily lives is directly related to the technology that we consume.

I am sure scientists somewhere have done fascinating studies about how these things actually and measurably affect out physical, emotional and spiritual health. But I haven't done a lot of research on the subject yet. All I know is that growing up my dad always used to tell me, "When you say yes to something, you are by default saying no to something else." And sometimes I wonder what do I or we, say no to because we've said yes to this high-speed digital age of convenience?

My five favorite words

I like gifts. I like getting them and probably equally, I like giving them. In fact I think five of my favorite words to hear are, "I got something for you." My heart kind of skips a beat and I am almost instantly filled it this giddy, childish excitement. Now, I realize by admitting this I sound like a greedy, gift-obsessed excuse for a human being, but hear me out. It's not about the gift as much as the thought behind it. Ask my roommates or closest friends--even the simplest of items, albeit a recycled plastic cup, a new pad of post-it notes or a bar of dark chocolate, all constitute a gift in my mind. We are talking small things, with maybe little or no monetary value. Just small, thoughtful gifts, heck even free things and garage-sale things. All are gifts in my mind.

Part of this probably has to do with how I grew up. My mom and dad were superb at bringing home little treasures and "gifts" from weddings they attended or conferences they were at. They'd walk in and say "Michelle, we got something for you." And that was all it took. With eager eyes and anticipation, I would tear open the little bag to find a collection of hotel containers, filled with shampoo, conditioner and lotion…and even an occasional shower cap! Other times my parents would creatively sneak a few extra wedding favors left over on the tables in order to bring them home for us kids. I cannot tell you how excited I got for those little mesh bags filled with mints tied in purple ribbon. (Parents: don't under estimate how exciting these little goodies can be for kids).

All this being said, we enter the Christmas season where we're supposed to buy, buy, buy and then give, give, give. It's all about gifts, so naturally you would think someone like me would love it, right?

But I don't.

I mean I do like Christmas, but I don't like all of the pressure and urgency to buy everyone and their mother gifts. Sometimes I feel like we miss the point of giving gifts when there is the underlining sense of obligation. And in recent years I've started to question why and when did Christmas become defined by the marketing and materialistic kings of corporations. Now, before I start to sound like the Scrooge who stole Christmas, know that there is obviously nothing wrong with gifts. I know for most kids, gifts are synonymous with Christmas. But because I don't have kids yet, maybe I have a little more room to think through what Christmas and gift giving means to me.

A few years ago some pastors from various churches started re-thinking how we celebrate Christmas. They found out that America spends an average of $450 billion a year every Christmas. Wow. They asked what if we chose to do Christmas differently? And out of this, a movement called Advent Conspiracy was born to encourage faith communities, to Worship Fully, Spend Less, Give More and Love All during this season. My church showed this film last night at our Saturday service (click here to watch it) and I felt simultaneously convicted and inspired. For as cliché as it sounds, the part that stuck out to me the most was the idea of giving the gift of presence, instead of presents. And then using the money we would have spent on that tangible present and in turn, giving it away.

In our fast paced, drive-through-Starbucks-kinda-culture, I am learning that the gift of presence is rare, but so desirable. I think more than anything else this Christmas season I want to be with people. I want to share a meal with friends and linger longer around the table. I want to curl up on the couch with a cup of tea and laugh with my sisters. I want to give away money I would have spent on excess gifts and instead spend a leisurely evening walking downtown, sipping hot cocoa and looking at lights.

I want this Christmas to be different.

thank you, portland

photo credit: curly girl design (one my favorite greeting cards companies)

It's been a while since I have taken time to write. Usually, when my blog post stays the same for weeks on end it either means one of two things:
a) Life has been too busy or b) Pure avoidance.

In my case it's been a little bit of both these past few weeks. I notice these patterns. When my schedule is too full, and I spend more time trying to save the world than take care of myself, all of my creative energy gets buried somewhere between stacks of paper, my ever growing inbox and the lack of adequate hours of sleep. But that's only part of the equation. The truth is when there is something nudging at my heart and being tossed back and forth in my mind I actually (almost purposefully) try to avoid it. Sometimes I wonder if my refusing to commit words to a page is my way of pretending that this thing, this internal voice, doesn't exist. I can try and keep it at bay, where it is out of sight, but eventually it washes back up to shore.

Usually I don't even notice it, that is until I get away. And then it whispers loudly, clearly and purposefully, echoing in my heart and head; and my whole being:

I am longing for some change.

So, I spent the weekend away- away in Portland, visiting a wonderful city with some truly fascinating people. I mean what's not to love about Portland...no sales tax, buffalo exchange, cozy coffee shops, scarves and boots worn out of necessity, instead of an attempt to make a fashion statement, neighborhood churches in bars, autumn leaves, Laurelhurst park, cool bridges, 3 dollar movies, and places to walk to from almost every point on a map.

I got to see some friends from Westmont and spend a few days with Whitney. We've come full circle- I met this lovely girl when I was a college freshman at Westmont and she was just a little, bundle of 5th grade joy. Fast-forward 9 years and now she is a college freshman and I am, well...just getting older, but you get the point. I got a chance to re-live college dorm life and remember why I don't think I will ever miss sharing a bathroom with 16 other girls.


Sometimes it takes being away-literally away- for me to get a glimpse of what I am really longing and hoping for. It's almost like some switch goes off as soon as I leave the comfort and conveniences of familiarity, the responsibilities of work and the ever-growing list of should-do's and could-do's.

I listen. And I slow down. And I settle into a different rhythm. And it's only then that I realize I am craving something new, some kind of change.

I wish I knew exactly what kind of change, because if I knew then I would obviously follow a three-step process and voilà, change complete. done and done. check it off. But I think, I, and probably you too, know that change doesn't happen like that. Change is a process. And the more and more I pray through and listen to this process I wonder how much of my desire for change is based on changing my external surroundings or rather changing my internal state of being. And maybe it's a both/and, not an either/or. But I still find myself wanting to make sense of it all; trying to find the "right" words to justify and explain the longing. I am learning that it is hard to give words to some internal feeling that is not grounded in any ounce of clarity, nor does it come with the slightest bit of convenience.

What I do know is that something needs to change in my life. I am just not sure what.

The truth is I really don't have any clarity. The dots have not been connected. But Portland did something good for me. It reminded me to listen and not avoid that gentle, whisper that longs for something more.

Thank you, Portland. I will be back one day.

Plan to be Surprised

I am a night owl and consequently, I am also a night blogger. The hours between 9 and 11 pm are like prime writing time. It's normally in these evening hours that I find the time to slow down and let my heart and mind begin the tremendous task of sorting through the thoughts and feelings floating through my head. On a bad night this process lends itself to overwhelming questions and insecurities about the big what ifs of life. But on a good night, this very process lends itself to writing. And somehow, almost automatically words begin to flow from my fingertips and appear on the screen.

So, on this first night of November I am up late, but I blame it partly on the time change. Somehow I convince myself that it's really only 11:22, completely disregarding the bold 12:22 on my clock, and I feel a little more justified to still be up.

One of the best monthly investments I've made in the past few months is my $4.99 Netflix membership. Given that I don't go to see movies that often, I spent years trying to keep track of all the movies I wanted to rent on a pink little post-it note next to my bed. This worked fine, except when I walked down to Video Smideo and realized I had forgotten to bring that blessed little post-it note with me. Ugh. For this reason, I think the online que is the best thing every invented. And now, twice a month I get a spiffy red envelope in the mail filled with the solution to my post-it note dilemma.

This month I watched Dan in Real Life and loved it. If you have not seen it, you should. It is maybe once of the most enjoyable films I've watched in a long time. Sweet, simple and just flat out funny. Not to mention, it has an incredible soundtrack! I am obviously not a movie critic. My three adjectives don't do it justice, but there is a line at the end of the movie that grabbed my attention and stuck with me.

As Dan Burns (played by Steve Carell) is reflecting on the events of his life and offering up his last bit of fatherly advice he says, "Instead of telling our young people to plan ahead, we should tell them to plan to be surprised."

It was one of those moments when you feel like, holy crap, he is speaking to me. That line was meant for me. Plan. To be. Surprised.

I sat there and realized that so often my rational, pragmatic self gets the best of me and I plan for what makes sense or what seems manageable, but rarely do I plan to be surprised. At first glace it almost seems like an oxymoron or some clever play on words. How can you really plan to be surprised? (this is my cynical, logical voice speaking). Surprises by definition are just that "surprises, usually spontaneous, unexpected events in life." You can't plan those types of things or if you did they wouldn't really be surprises, obviously.

However, I think the line in the movie is getting at something else. It doesn't mean that we get to necessarily plan out exactly how we're going to be surprised. But rather, I think it means that we have to learn to expect surprises. To plan for them. To be open to them. And maybe to even look for them.

How would your life look different if you planned to be surprised? I mean it. What would today or this week look like if you planned to be surprised? Try it. I decided that I am going to adopt this new mantra for the month. I am going to plan to be surprised. I'll let you know how it goes : )