A Little Mind

We bathe daily in our own arrogance, so certain that our truth is the universal proof that ultimately justifies our way of life. We speak in absolutes, proselytize our ideology with such vigor that there is no room for discussion or dissent. To think otherwise is to be wrong, and to be wrong is to be worthless in our constrained little universe.

But your black and white leaves no room for my unique shade of gray. Your truth denies my proof and your ideology does not work within the comfortable universe I’ve built for myself. Your experiences don’t exist for me, and my eyes have witnessed the creation of a different reality set apart from yours by years of living my own story.

In simple terms: we’re different.

I’m amused by the eager heart so impassioned by a newfound cause that it spends its time and energy force-feeding revelations to anyone brave enough to enquire. While I admire the courageous heart that stands up for the rebellion, even if the evil oppressor exists in the confines of their own mind, I grow weary of those that wallow in the mud of some self-imagined perfection.

If a belief is so tender that it must be protected on all sides by violent voices and determined defenses, then perhaps the foundation of the idea is too tenuous to survive rational thought. Perhaps its defenders should give it another look.

If cruel words and personal attacks are necessary to ensure this “truth” isn’t killed off by fact, then it has no place in my world, thanks. If those that disbelieve must be labeled dimwitted or unintelligent, the proof is most likely nonsensical and ill suited for those of a practical bent.

There is much to be said for taking a step back from our fervent defending and giving others the space to think for themselves. Armed with compassion, disagreements can be a place of growth, not necessarily a place of battle. If you feel the need to attack, one must wonder why the “truth” cannot stand on its own.

Can we not reason together as adults? Can we not stand with mutual respect while engaging the mind rather than the tongue?

If I am asking too much, then perhaps we’ll revisit this at some other time....when you’ve grown up.

Hail a Brave Spirit

I love a rebel. Few things make me smile like someone standing up for their beliefs and questioning the current social norms. Great changes in our world begin with the courageous soul that demands change and speaks out against injustice. From Galileo to Ghandi, our cumulative cultures grow and evolve by the force of conviction instigated by the brave among us.

Changes are sweeping across the globe. Social outrage and the demand for financial responsibility has shaken the foundation of our world, causing many to choose sides and cling to antiquated ideas of the status quo. This isn’t about political agendas or stereotyping people that we don’t agree with. This is about acknowledging the need for change and embracing the good in a message that may alter our worldview forever.

Galileo became the father of modern science, earning a date with the Inquisition and losing his freedom in the name of heresy. Jesus stood against the prevailing religious practices of his day by upsetting the money changers and calling out for peace. Ghandi fought against the oppression of his people with quiet perseverance. Rosa Parks was a hard-working woman who just wanted a quiet ride home, but became a hero that transformed the face of a nation.

Each brought about change in a powerful way. Each remained standing under the deluge of criticism; their resolute spirits set tremors to rumble across the landscape of time. Each standing against the fear evoked by the promise of metamorphosis.

Even today many criticize and condemn those among us who dare to ask the question, “What if.” As thousands act upon their desire for a just world, thousands more shower them with ridicule rather than work to understand the “why”. It’s easier to point and condemn. Easier to dismiss the rebel as an overzealous youth or a dilatory simpleton wishing for handouts, harder to listen to the message with an understanding ear.

Having lived my life walking the line between acceptable and questionable, I understand how effortless it would be to cave in to the demands of society and blend in. I know that keeping quiet is the most direct path to universal acceptance, ensuring popularity and earning a place among the majority. But I simply don’t have it in me to capitulate and dance within the lines. It is a flaw I vehemently refuse to cure.

I may not agree with every rebel that stands on the corner and shouts out against some vague injustice. I may not agree with the rebels’ methods, but I cannot help but stand in admiration for their boldness. I am unable to withhold my support or suppress a smile as they proudly march against the evils as they perceive them.

I am unable to deny that they are my heroes, and I will endeavor to live up to their example of courage every chance I get.

Love Runs

Imagine a storm so violent that the thunder shakes the foundations of a house like a quake through a sandcastle. Imagine the rain pelting the windows with such force that the glass screams out in shrill protest. Now imagine peering out and seeing a figure in the distance shrouded in mist and shivering from the onslaught of icy rain and the relentless wind.

Imagine if that sad figure was someone you dearly loved.

What would you do?

Would you open the door a little, risk the intrusion of wind and rain to call out to them? Would you venture out to the porch, clutching your coat around you and bid them join you under shelter? Would you encourage them to follow your voice and flee the brutality of the squall?

Standing in the center of a cyclone we rarely see beyond the current storm. When our lives are filled with uncertainty and our world is drenched in gloom the sun is hidden from us. We are so focused on the clouds that nothing else matters. In the midst of chaos, we cannot hear the voice of our rescuers.

We hear nothing but the wind.

Love, honest love, doesn’t call out from a partially opened door. Love doesn’t stand on the porch protected from the brutal storm. Love doesn’t just sit and wait.

Love runs.

Love doesn’t care about its own comfort. Instead, it throws open the door and sprints out into the bruising rain. It wraps its arms around its beloved and risks the chaos hand-in-hand. Love knows no fear; it understands not the idea of cowardice. Love is brave, and strong. Love is loyal and determined.

Life is messy, and in the worst of times it can overwhelm and oppress us. The oft repeated scripture says that though we walk through the valley of death, we will not fear evil or the unknown because our God is with us...and our God runs to us.

Regardless of your faith, you will not travel through life’s many valleys alone because those that love you, really and truly love you, will be there for you in the midst of it all. You will know your true friends by how quickly they rush to your side. Regardless of the time spent in the valley, or how chaotic the storm, you’ve got back up.

If you find yourself in the middle of a particularly brutal downpour and need some support, call me. When I say that I love you, it means that I will stand with you, even in the messiest of times. I’ll even bring an umbrella...and probably a thermos of coffee. You just never know how long these storms are going to last, and it never hurts to be prepared.

Gone

We have all lost something in our lives. We lose jobs, we lose bets...last week I lost an earring. Unfortunately, sometimes we lose people. Between the pain and the numbness, we sit demoralized by the sudden emptiness that invades our world.

The beauty of loss is that in order to lose something, we must have had something of value to begin with. When we lose someone, it means that we had someone who mattered to us. It also means that we mattered to someone as well. Our life was filled with the joy of friendship and we are better because of that bond.

Yesterday I lost a friend. He was a friend who taught me that I could disagree vehemently and passionately with someone, but still share a mutual respect and appreciation. I learned that laughing over our differences was far more enjoyable than allowing intolerance to determine my feelings for others.

Through loss we gain a hollow place in our life that yearns to be filled. We are given a gift, a place to store the memories and the smiles that we’ve collected through the years. We’re given the opportunity to spend some time reminiscing about the events that have shaped us and brought us together.

And all people shape us when they touch our lives.

Had we not risked loss we would have missed out on the person we are today; missed out on the experiences and joys that decorate our past with smiles and laughter. Loss is not easy, but loss means so much more than simply no longer having something of value. Loss means we were blessed enough to have had someone in our life that changed us, loved us, and made us better.

When you find yourself in the midst of pain, missing someone who is no longer with us, remember that their life continues to shine through in the ways they touched your heart.

Peace out my friend.

Life is Now

We have two hands. You cannot hold on to yesterday with one hand, reach for the future with the other, and expect to fully grasp the beauty of today. Trying to juggle regrets from your past and organize your hopes for the days ahead spreads out your focus and robs you of the present.

What has transpired has formed you, molded you into the person you are at this moment and your journey thus far is a celebration of your uniqueness. Life is messy and our past can leak into our present, dredging up painful memories or reminding us that we’ve made mistakes. It chips away at today and steals energy that can be better utilized in the now...but you don’t have to let it.

Sometimes the future is so enticing, so filled with hopes and wonder that it’s difficult to concentrate on the beauty of the moment. If our current task is a bit banal, it’s tempting to turn our thoughts to the future where life might contain more excitement or fully realized dreams, but what of the present? Why are we willing to rush through our days, hoping for things that may never come?

We are not guaranteed anything beyond the now. No one knows what the future holds, or if it will even come. Right here is where we are, where we truly exist. We all have goals and plans for a great future, but how much better will tomorrow be if we allow ourselves to live every second of today?

Take advantage of the time that you have been given. Relish the very breath you take this second. Grab the opportunity to express your love and gratitude for the people in your life because every experience, every interaction makes our journey richer and more meaningful.

Why wish it all away?

If you're having a difficult time focusing on the here and now...call me. We can enjoy a cup of coffee and share the joy of living in the moment together.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Having spent 30 years of my life as a raving atheist, and having been raised by one, I developed an amazing skill at religious debate along with an ability to deal with strangers who thought they knew what was best for me. Years of being preached at and informed of the error of my ways opened my eyes to the general intolerance of people, and I was not impressed.

Thirteen years ago when I started my current journey of faith it was a personal journey and one which concerned no one else. I do not live my life according to the whims of others, and I certainly did not need the approval of anyone before I altered my philosophical leanings.

I now refuse to debate because I just don’t care what you believe. Seriously, it’s your life and you need to figure it out on your own. Me trying to convince you isn’t going to help you out...and it’s a huge time-drain on my already packed schedule. If you have questions about my faith as a Christian Quaker as part of a respectable adult conversation, ask away. If you want to tell me I’m wrong, don’t waste your breath.

Voltaire said, “Think for yourselves and let others enjoy the privilege to do so, too.” Sounds like a plan to me.

That said, through the years I’ve noticed that more and more people have become obsessed with trying to get others to think as they do. How did forcing your ideas on another person become cool? Honestly, there is this wonderful thing called free will and I expect that all of us would like to use it as we see fit. You’re really cute with your opinions and all, but save it. I recall something about freedom of expression, including religious expression, being one of the founding ideas of our country. Did someone change that when I wasn’t looking?

With the 10th anniversary of the attacks of 9/11 just around the corner, it’s difficult to not recall the treatment of Muslims following those devastating events. The paranoia and hatred that took hold was embarrassing and cruel. As I mourned with my beloved nation, I also wept for the injustice that took hold of her heart.

The heroism demonstrated that fateful day by the first responders is a shining example of how we all should treat our fellow humans. These amazing men and women didn’t stop and ask what a person believed before they pulled them from the burning rubble, nor did they care what philosophy a dying person adhered to before they comforted them in their last moments. There were no lines drawn between people, only an understanding that someone was in pain and needed help. And help these heroes did. This is how we should all act in our everyday lives.

Today, there remains a fear of those who are not white and middle class...those who think differently and believe things that we don’t agree with. That’s a burden we all carry and need to work to change it. In a world that needs healing, there is no place for this.

What we need is a huge dose of respect for all people and an understanding that a person has the right to believe what they want. As groups of so-called Christians rule mainstream religion and force their way into politics, as many atheists try to sterilize society against anything they disagree with...it’s difficult to believe we will ever get to a place where people willingly respect one another.

My closest circle of friends, those I rely on and truly trust come from a wide-range of religions including Sikh, Muslim, Judaism, Christian fundamentalist, Buddhist, and humanistic Atheist. I love them equally and admire who they are as people. They enrich my life in a multitude of ways and I would feel a great loss were they not here. As with any good relationship we rely on mutual respect and admiration, accepting our differences and learning from our unique world-views.

Yes, my faith means a lot to me and I am comfortable with who I am. I don’t use it to be morally righteous...I do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do. I don’t use it as an excuse to belittle others, because that would be childish. My faith works for me...I hope your faith, or un-faith as the case my be, works for you. I truly hope that you find what you need.

When a person demeans another because he or she doesn’t think as they do, they show themselves to be close-minded and weak. When they disrespect the beliefs of another person, they disrespect all of us, and that’s not cool on any level.

We live in a world where humanity is drowning in a sea of hate and intolerance. Our societies are crumbling around us, greed rules the heart and devours the integrity of our leaders . If we can’t learn to accept our differences and respect each other, then we really need to grow-up and start acting like adults.

Not My Problem

Once upon a time I censored my thoughts and emotions. I’d tell people what they wanted to hear, not what they needed to hear.

True story.

But that was before I understood that withholding the truth was the same as lying. That was before I realized that if we truly and honestly care for a person, we offer the truth, and we do it in love and with love.

Relationships aren’t always cut and dry, nor do they come with guarantees. Relationships grow and evolve depending upon shared experiences and mutual acceptance. Ties are often stretched and twisted until they either grow stronger or they break.

For relationships to remain strong, honesty is a non-negotiable necessity. Love has no room for lies and trust is based on truth. By censoring ourselves, we are only undermining our relationships and denying ourselves.

When we speak in truth it is important that we also speak in love, not in pride or with arrogance. When we share our heart, we must do it simply and honestly without expectations or demands.

What if our truth offends? What if the things in our heart causes pain or threatens to destroy the bonds of our relationship?

So what if it does?

You are not in control of what people feel, think, or do. You are responsible for how you present your view, but you are not responsible for how someone else reacts to it.

If I share my heart with you and it causes you pain, it would sadden me. However, to hold my truth in silence and keep my heart from you would be dishonest because to love you means to be honest with you. To care for you means to be open with you.

Yes, it is risky to put our thoughts and emotions out there, but living a lie is even riskier. If you knew I was involved in a self-destructive behavior, would you tell me? If I was doing something that hurt you, would you let me know? If you cared about me, you would because that’s what love requires.

If I took your words as antagonistic and cruel, that would not be your problem. You are not responsible for what I feel any more than I’m responsible for your reactions to my thoughts.

When I tell you that I love you, what I’m really saying is that I care about you enough to be honest regardless of the consequences. When I tell you that I love you, I’m saying that I trust you enough to share my heart with you even if it means losing you.

I’d rather live without you than have you live without the truth.

Me Time

If you woke up tomorrow and you were alone in your world, who would you be? If you had no one to force their ideas and expectations upon you, who would you strive to become? How would you live your life?

If there was no one to impress, what would you wear? Would you worry about being the most fashionable and fret that you won’t fit in? Would you obsess about being thin or would you focus on healthy?

If there was no one to force their expectations upon you, what career path would you follow? Would you focus on financial gains, or feed your passion?

What If there was no one to interpret the voice of God for you? Would you live in fear of a cosmic bully, or would you seek to understand love and grace on a deeper level?

There are times when we are so overwhelmed by the pressures of life that we forget who we really are. Expectations fly at us from all directions including family, friends, and society at large. We’re supposed to be fashionable and thin, perfectly coiffed and made-up like the models in the various ads that the media flings at us.

We are suppose to have a career that our parents can brag about and that brings in the bling to impress our friends. Our lives revolve around our career prowess while our soul melts under the pressure of financial success.

We are expected to choose a religion from one of the faith or anti-faith movements that suits our style and then adhere to the rhetoric and mindless jargon without question. We offer up our free-will as a sacrifice to the movement du jour hoping that it will fill our hearts with the peace we desperately need, only to be left with more questions that we had before.

So what about some Me time? What about some time to figure out what we really want and who we really are. How about shutting out the voices that wear us down with their demands, and just listen to ourselves for a little while.

I’m not suggesting we walk away from our obligations and become self-absorbed jerks. I’m suggesting we listen to ourselves and figure out who we are and who we want to become, not based on what others believe...but based on our own passions and the gifts we’ve been given.

If you woke up tomorrow and you were alone in your world, who would you be? Becoming the best you possible will help ensure that those who rely on you, those who trust in you are getting the real deal...not some cheap imitation. How much of you is based on what the world wants you to be, and how much of you is true?

Take some me time and figure it out...you owe it to yourself and those who believe in you.

If you’re not sure where to start, call me and we’ll work together to shut out the other voices until you can hear your own.

Brave

Fairy tales are one of the cruelest tricks we play on children. We tell them that happy endings are the norm, that the princess always gets the prince, and the evil stepsisters always get punished for their misdeeds. That’s simply not true, and it’s something we should probably reconsider when choosing books to read at bedtime.

I’m just saying.

Life is messy and people are imperfect creatures overflowing with emotions. I like that we are beautifully blemished beings and that our relationships add a richness to our journey, but what I don’t like is when those relationships end, and we are left with a cavernous hole in our heart and an ache that no amount of tears can wash away.

Losing people hurts and there is simply no way to avoid it if we insist on embracing the many wonders life has to offer us.

Recently I had to walk away from some very dear friends. I loved them like family and had relied on them through some tough times. For many years they were a little sanctuary from the insanity of life, and now that’s gone. They meant a lot to me, more than I realized until they were no longer there. All that exists is the overwhelming sense of loss.

The why is not important, suffice to say you cannot un-ring a bell. Sometimes we are forced to make decisions in order to protect ourselves. Logically I know that it was never their intent to hurt me, it was just an unfortunate outcome due to a seemingly innocuous decision. Unfortunately, that decision meant I could not join them on path they had chosen, and I had to walk away.

Many years ago after cleansing my life of an abusive spouse, I promised myself that I would not entertain negative or destructive relationships in my life no matter the cost to my heart. It was one of those decisions that demanded an all-or-nothing commitment because once the toxins enter into your life there is no way to stop it from polluting every part of your existence.

Though I tried to rationalize the choices my friends had made, that little voice in my head reminded me that I could not ignore the truth forever. The damage was done and my heart was so ravaged by it all, I grew numb with disbelief. Remaining meant accepting more negativity into my life than was healthy.

So I severed all ties and walked away.

Slowly emails trickled in filled with questions, but they went unanswered. After two days of endless tears and sleepless nights, I was emotionally spent and unable to function. I had to take care of myself, and that is what it all comes down to.

We have to take care of ourselves.

We have to be brave enough to fight for what we know is best for us. We cannot allow the people we love to pull us down into the depths of negativity simply because we are emotionally tied to them. We have to be our own advocate, our own champion, and our own caretaker.

It’s our responsibility to ensure the relationships we are involved with are healthy relationships based on love and respect. Anything else and we are just fooling ourselves.

No, it isn’t easy to walk away. It has been several days now and I still find myself aching to talk to them, or tearing up when something reminds me of them. My heart still trembles when my inbox shows a new email because it might be them unintentionally re-opening a slowly healing wound. It has not be a very enjoyable time.

But I will survive this. I will continue to learn from my time with those amazing people and I really did learn a lot. I have boxes upon boxes of beautiful memories stored away in a corner of my mind. Someday, when the pain is not so new and the tears have dried, I will sit and comb through these boxes and smile, grateful I had such people in my life.

For now I take each day as it comes knowing that I did what was right for me knowing that endings aren’t always happy, but they are necessary. I’ve also had to remind myself that I need to be my own white knight...even if my armor is a bit rusted.

My Last Breath

With my last breath I will not regret the decisions I've made. I will not regret counting memories over calories. I will not regret failing to care about the people who were not impressed by me while I was caring for those who loved me. I will not regret attacking challenges head first rather than wasting time on those who live their lives attacking others to cover their insecurities.

I will not regret living my life because I lived it with the understanding that it was a one time shot. It was mine to live under the guidance of a loving God and with the support of cherished friends and family. It was mine to experience, not theirs to control. It was mine to use to the fullest, not theirs to judge.

With my last breath I will not cry for those who hurt me or were hurt because of me. If I have offended, I rest in the assurance that my intent was not malicious and my humble apologies should suffice. If not, that’s not my burden to carry. I hold no responsibility for the obsessions of others.

I will not regret the times I earned the occasional “B” when I chose to spend time with my beloved over time with my books. My value comes not from my accomplishments, but from those my life has blessed. It’s a sad thing to spend precious moments worried about the petty over the people

With my last breath I will not regret standing firm in my convictions, failing to bend in order to appease. If I have lost friends, they were not mine to have. If I gained respect, then I will accept that as a bonus for my time. I was not born to cower to the demands of the aggressive or to become a pawn in their plan.

WIth my last breath I will cheerfully applaud those, who like me, lived their life to the fullest until that final exhale. I will smile at the strong in spirit and resolute in faith. I will be grateful for my time among the passionate, the brave of heart. I will go, ever thankful that I have loved, been loved, and have practiced love as it was offered to me.

With my last breath, I will remain a soul at peace.

What will your last breath be?

Just Chill

Stress is not sexy. It’s not motivating or inspiring, yet we not only accept stress like a gift from a secret admirer, we bath in it until it covers us with the lingering scent of fear and doubt.

Stress is like a disease that devours our well-being and imprisons our dreams. So why do we choose stress? Why do we willingly cram so many activities into our already bursting schedules that we have no time to breathe? Why do we set impossible expectations for ourselves and others? We are simply setting ourselves up to dine on a feast of failure and disappointment.

Why do we so often choose stress? And yes, it is a choice.

The choice comes not only when we take on more than our time allows, but with how we see the things that are going on in our lives. If something doesn’t meet our expectations, we stress and worry about how we can bend it to our will. If someone doesn’t feel like we want them to feel, we stress over that too. We worry about the What-If’s and torture ourselves with hypotheticals.

We choose fear and doubt.

Stress begins when we choose to not accept what is. Rather than learning to accept that there are things over which we have no control, like the emotions of another person, we fight for power we will never attain. We try to control everything within our reach, and this is not even a little bit productive. Why don’t we focus on our own thoughts and actions?

I know there are times in our lives when we can’t help but take on more than humanly possible I’m currently in a new city looking for a place to live, searching for a job, preparing for graduate school, and juggling both academic and personal writing commitments. I knew this was going to be an insanely hectic time, but knowing is half the battle. I planned what I could and I work on focusing on the things that I can control. Yes, I get a bit nervous now and again, but I chose this path knowing it was going to wear me out and drain my sanity.

I made the choice.

To survive these overwhelming times I wrap myself the love of my friends and family for support. I know that I cannot do this without some cheerleaders in my corner chanting encouragement when things look bleak..and they inevitably will.

I focus on the positive (i.e., moving to a really cool city, going to my dream university, earning my advanced degree...etc.), and not the negative stuff (i.e., what happens if I can’t find a job or a house? what if I don’t get my books in time for class? What if I screw it all up?).

Most importantly, I focus on taking care of myself through the things that bring me solace. Prayer and meditation offer me a wonderful respite from the hectic demands of my current situation. Knowing that God is walking with me gives me the peace and strength necessary to face the challenges ahead. The assurance that He will never leave me, even if I do screw up, enables me to move forward when that little voice in the back of my mind is screaming for me to surrender to fear.

We can’t do this alone, and we don’t have to. However, we do need to be realistic and focus on the truth of our situations and not play the hypothetical game of What-If. We have to take care of ourselves and make productive choices.

When deciding where to place our energy, consider what things will make the biggest impact on our future. What will matter in a year? Five years? Ten years even? No one can tell you what is important, you have to make your own decision in the end, but don’t forget about taking care of yourself and leaning on the people who love you. True friends are always happy to cheer for you.

So what are you choosing to stress about? What are you focusing on?

If you are feeling overwhelmed and need a cheerleader, give me a call...I’ll even break out the proverbial pom-poms for you.

No parking. No swimming. No fishing. No talking. No refunds. No exchanges.

No is everywhere and has a reputation as being a bad little word that stands between us and what we want.

As children No meant we were being denied an important need like no TV or no candy, or no dessert until you eat your broccoli. Oh, the humanity of it all.

When we grow up No still maintains its negative connotation and while we see and hear it on a daily basis, we have a problem using it ourselves. We know how much it hurts to be told No, and we want to avoid inflicting that pain on another.

We don’t want to risk not being liked, or admitting that we’re human and might need help. No can churn up memories of rejection and feelings of failure from within the most delicate part of our souls.

If we fear No, perhaps it is because we fail to appreciate how considerate a word it truly is. Perhaps we fear the power that it offers us. We have failed to recognize the freedom it offers as we wield it against the onslaught of a demanding world.

The topic of No has come up several times recently in casual conversation, and I think people are hesitant to use it because we are wary of denying the needs of someone else. But at what expense?

No is not a bad word. It is liberating and freeing. It is an honest word that communicates the truth of our current condition. As discussed with my friends, No helps us establish boundaries, which are extremely important. Boundaries are a very loving thing, both for ourselves and for others.

It is a loving thing to tell a person, “No, I will not help you continue your destructive behavior.”

It is an empowering thing to say, “No, I will not take on another task because I haven’t the energy to complete it to my standards.”

It is a beautifully human thing to state, “No, I’m not fine, and I could use some affection and a shoulder right now.”

No is a powerful little word allowing us to communicate honestly with each other. It may take a bit before we become comfortable saying it, but with enough practice we can do it.

We can’t let such a small word stand between us some emotional freedom, can we?

A Heart of Listening

I’ve made peace with the fact that I will never be an astronaut. I am aware that my chances of becoming a rock star are pretty slim, and I’m okay with that. On the other hand I’m very good with people, I am an excellent researcher, I am a skilled writer, and I’m am a great friend.

I am able to joyfully accept the things that I cannot do because I focus on the things that I can do. I was secure in my positive attributes until I realized I was lying to myself. I’m not nearly as good as I could be (or should be) because I lacked an extremely important skill: listening...really, truly, listening.

I’m a proficient listener in that I hear what people say and can extract meaning from nuances. I can recognize the painful honesty that often hides behind safe words, but I failed at seeing the raw, uncensored heart that people reveal when they are opening themselves up to me.

I hear the words and I’m so ready to respond that I fail to mentally ingest what they are saying. I understand them, but I am not ruminating on the profound meaning of their heart. I fail to acknowledge who they are at their deepest, most vulnerable level.

Shame on me.

A few months have passed since I’ve had this little revelation and I’ve made progress through conscious effort, but it’s easy to slip back into old habits. Lately I’ve found myself wishing I could re-do conversations with friends, or go back and ask them to clarify something that I thought I understood at the time.

This makes me very unhappy. I should know better.

I know I’m not the only one wrestling with this particular demon. In our fast-paced world we have relationships based on sound bites, and we communicate in superficial ways that lack real intimacy. How many of us take the time to understand what people are telling us? Do we stand poised to respond with our thoughts the moment they take a breath, or are we willing to stifle our desire to speak until we fully comprehend what we’ve just been told?

Maya Angelou once said that when a person shows you who they are the first time, believe them. We have to really want to see people before this can happen.

To truly see people, we must make the effort to hear them with our ears, our mind, and our hearts before we can begin the process of knowing them in their raw state. To really listen to another person, we need to mix acceptance with a splash of self-control and a double dose of love. That is when real understanding begins.

It isn’t easy to take the time and hear the heart of another. So often we want to rescue them, to cure them, or to tell them what we think. Too often we ignore the silent wishes to be understood and accepted. It’s a daily struggle for me to hold back and to hear, but I’m working on it and getting much better...but forgive me when I don’t.

If you need someone to hear you, call me. And if you notice that I’m backsliding into my old habit, please remind me that while I may be listening to you, I’m not really hearing your heart.

And I really want to hear your heart because you're very important to me.

...but are you Happy?

I was not created to meet your expectations. My purpose in life is not to fulfill your idea of who or what I should be. It is not my responsibility to make you happy.

It’s not about you.

Sometimes it feels like everyone has an opinion of who you should to be and how you should live your life, but it’s not your responsibility to live up to their desires. That’s not your job.

Real relationships, the honest and inspiring relationships that help us to grow, are built on a foundation of love. If someone really cares about you they will ask you what you want. They will show genuine concern about your happiness, not weigh you with their opinions and their expectations.

The desire to understand people comes from a place of love and compassion. A selfish heart is unable to look outside of itself and see things from another perspective. Only a heart that knows love has the strength to quiet its own desires and focus on the needs of someone else.

If someone loves you, their concern is for you and your needs, not their own.

I made a few changes to my life in the past few years with returning to school and choosing a new path for my faith. It was through these changes that I began to view my relationships differently. It became readily apparent who really cared about me, and who cared about themselves more.

When I would mention my academic goals it felt like everyone had an opinion on what school I should attend, or gave their advice on what direction I should take my career. Only one person asked me what I wanted. That person cared and has a genuine concern for my happiness. She wanted to know what my goals were so that she could offer constructive advice.

That is a relationship based on love.

My career decisions are my choice. Believe me when I say that I am not here to impress anyone. Really, I just don’t care what you think of me and my life goals.

I had the same experience when I chose to leave the mainstream Christian denominations and seek a deeper meaning to my faith. I expected people to question my decision and knew it wasn’t going to be an easy task to explain why I could no longer followed their doctrine. I assumed they would understand, or at least try to understand.

They didn’t.

I was told I was wrong, or that I needed to be brought back into a better understanding of their world. They felt I was broken and needed to be fixed. They were so focused on their expectations and goals, they never asked about mine.

I am not saying that these people are all evil, selfish jerks. They are just flawed humans like the rest of us, doing the best that they can with what they know. Perhaps they truly do believe that when they offer unsolicited advice or force their opinion on us they think they are doing us a favor. It’s something we’ve all done at one point in our lives, and while it is annoying, it is certainly forgivable and completely human.

For many years now I’ve taken to asking my loved ones a simple question. “Are you happy?” No matter what they choose to do, whether I agree or not, it is their decision to make. If they want my advice, they will ask. They owe me nothing and I’ve no right to pressure them to live as I think they should. My relationship with them is based on love, and because of that I desire their happiness...nothing else really matters, does it?

God is our creator. He is the author of my salvation and the only one I shall ever bow to. Christ is my Lord, no other and I owe my allegiance to Him, not to someone who thinks they know what is best for me.

My relationship with Him is based on love and in the end, I know that God loves me no matter what. That means He truly cares about my happiness.

So my friend, are you happy?

Building a Better Sisterhood

There is a bond between women that extends far beyond mere friendship. It’s an intimacy that links our hearts and souls. Words cannot adequately express the connection between us, and the relationships we have with our sister-friends fulfill a need that defies definition.

My female friends are treasures that bless me beyond my imagination. They have taught me how to open my heart, and have given me unconditional support during some of the darkest moments of my life. There is a power in this connection. It’s the power to build each other up. It's the power to give our sister wings when she has lost the strength to fly. I am a better person, a better woman because of them.

The world expects us to meet outrageous standards and excel at everything while we juggle the many different aspects of our lives. It’s a comfort to know that we can turn to our sisters and have their understanding and their acceptance; know that we are not alone in our struggles, large or small.

Each of us is unique and each of us has value. Our worth is inherent in our humanity and we are important because we are created by a loving God who cares for us no matter where we are in our journey. We can never let each other forget that. Not ever.

Our current culture seems to prefer to keep women at odds with one another. Sharing petty gossip, judging each other harshly according to superficial standards of beauty, and back-biting are things that are expected and accepted. Rather than seeing our sisters as allies, we have shows like BAD GIRLS where the violence and inappropriate behavior of young women is glorified. How about the REAL HOUSEWIVES franchise that promotes the curse-laden screaming matches and juvenile antics of grown women? Some of these women are the mothers of young girls.

The media and culture at large is not building women up in a positive and supportive way and there is no reason for this to continue. We deserve better.

Imagine if we could extend the positive power of our sister-friend relationships beyond individual connections. What if we shared this powerful and uplifting bond with women we’ve never met? What if we reached out to women who might be feeling alone, or who need to be reminded how important they are because the world has been kicking them around. What if a sister is just frazzled and needs to have her spirit lifted and her heart embraced by those who understand?

If we could expand our bonds across borders, across religious beliefs and beyond socioeconomic statuses, then we could have a positive impact on the lives of our sisters beyond our own backyard.

To build a better sisterhood, a more inclusive and impactful sisterhood, all we need to do is join forces, open our hearts, and be there for each other. This is about more than just sharing diet secrets or discussing the latest fashion, this is about ignoring the superficial and focusing on the meaningful. This is about being cheerleaders for each other on this journey called Life.

Join with me on this venture and help ensure that the women in our world aren’t overlooked, aren’t forgotten, or to left to suffer through the difficult moments of life on their own. The cashier at the grocery store could use a smile. The customer service rep on the phone would love to hear a kind word from someone who isn’t yelling at her. When you pass a sister on the street and she seems beaten, look into her eyes and remind her you’re cheering for her, praying that she finds the strength to continue.

If you want a cheerleader or need to hear some positive thoughts, give me a call and I’ll be there. If you need someone to pray for you, to listen to your broken heart, or to just share a glass of wine and the silence, let me know.

You’re my sister, and I love you.

If you’re on Facebook, please like my page HEART BOUND SISTERHOOD. Leave an encouraging word, post one of your favorite quotes, or just ask for support after a tough day. Together, let’s lift each other up and build a better sisterhood together. I can’t do this alone, I need help from my sisters.

The Christian You Know

The moment I tell you that I am Christian you will, undoubtedly, compare me to a Christian that you know...and I’m pretty sure you know at least one. Good, bad, or indifferent you probably have expectations about who and what Christians are and judge me accordingly. I’m not saying you’re necessarily wrong, I’m just saying you might have me confused with someone else.

You see, there are many things that you might not realize about Christians, but because so many of us focus on living our faith and not just talking about it, you might not know that someone is a follower of Christ unless they tell you directly. Seriously, it’s easy to miss us because we’re into the Applied part of our beliefs and working our hearts out to do what is right. This form of our faith isn’t very glamorous, nor does it get a lot of attention because in our culture, flashy matters.

My form of Christianity isn’t very flashy and I like it that way.

It’s almost comical the number of people who thought they knew me and then deserted the friendship the moment I told them that the way I live my life is tied to a label they don’t like. I’ve lost friends, jobs, and even scholarships because when it was discovered that my devotion to a life of service and integrity was influence by my Christian faith, they no longer saw my actions as a conscious decision, but assumed that I was a mindless zombie just doing what I was told by some guy at church.

It was as if placing a label on me negated who I was or what I do. Were they afraid I was going to turn into a one of those hell-fire and brimstone preachers that froth at the mouth and threaten them with the burning pits of sulfur if they did not instantly convert? Seriously, that’s not my speed.

I’m not ashamed of my faith, but I don't feel the need to beat people over the head with it either. I think my time is better spent putting my faith into action and not boring people with labels, don't you agree? My life is extraordinarily blessed because of my faith in Christ. Knowing that the one who created the universe also created me is an amazing experience.

To know that God made me and that He cherishes me regardless of any bad choices or missteps has freed me from the obstacles of this world where our value is based on what you own or what you look like. Do I want everyone to have this kind of peace and assurance in their life? Absolutely! Will I disrespect you, belittle you or judge you because you have chosen a different path? No, because that’s not what God wants and if it was, then that’s not a God I would follow.

The pacifist and activist Mohandas Gandhi said, “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” There are days when I watch the news and cringe because people claiming to be Christians are working hard to create an image of Christ that doesn’t speak of love, forgiveness, or grace, but one that screams of bigotry and hatred instead. This is not the God I know, and this is not the God I follow.

So the next time you hear that someone is a Christian, take a moment before assuming you know them. Those of us who are busy applying our faith and trying to make this world a better place would appreciate not having to deal with the stereotypes.

Thanks.

These Hands

I am a writer, an artist, a painter, and a graduate student. All of these skills require two things: my mind and my hands. While my mind is still fairly sharp and my imagination shows no signs of dimming, my hands are another story altogether.

I’ve known for a while that I have a degenerative form of arthritis and I’m barely past 40 years old. My hip began to fail me many, many years ago and my knee is grumpier than a two year old before a nap, but in the past few months this disease has made its way to my hands. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t extremely scared.

For a while I tried to ignore the pain in my fingers, brush it off as them being overworked from writing papers, or spending hours going over research notes. I rationalized the stiffness and ignored the signs because I don’t have time to slow down. But now, the pain that shoots through my joints and keeps me up at night is beginning to demand my immediate attention.

I’m an intelligent person. I realize that the pain means the deterioration of the joints is beginning. I know that medical treatment is the only way to ensure my fingers will remain nimble. I know what can happen if I let it go for much longer because I’ve seen the warped fingers of friends and relatives who have struggled with the destructive types of arthritis. It’s just so much easier to stifle the fear and just ignore it for a little bit longer.

Then the other day I had a very sobering moment: I couldn't wear my engagement ring because of swollen joints.

Sometimes it’s the little things that hit us the hardest.

So in the coming months I will be seeking treatment for this disease. I’ll just add this to my already crammed schedule because the alternative means I would lose a very important tool. This experience has forced me to look at my hands as more than just an extension of myself; they are an extension of my faith and that is something bigger than just the need to feed my creative desires and do schoolwork.

These sore hands are not just things made out of flesh, bones and cartilage, they are tools of change and a way to show the love of my God to those who may not know Him or the peace He offers. The power of touch, the ability to wipe away a tear or hold the hand of a little child goes far beyond my dislike of doctors and the discomfort that treatment will bring.

I type words to speak out against the injustices I see, to offer support to those with broken spirits, or to cheer on those who are fighting for the forgotten children of the world. I do not spend hours studying in the hopes that I will become rich, but to make a positive impact on our world. When I look outside of myself and my own selfish wants, I see that these painful little phalanges are a way of sharing the gifts and blessings I’ve received.

Yes, these hands are an important part of me, but I now see them as more than just my hands; they are my voice as well and they will continue to speak out against social inequality and about a loving and generous God.

Funny that it took a disease to teach me how to appreciate the simplest things, like the ability to type words onto a page. I can assure you, I’ll not be taking this for granted again. Ever.

Does it hurt when I type these words? Yes, a little. But the alternative would be far more painful, I can assure you.

Let us never forget that we all have the ability to make this world a better place for the weak and vulnerable among us. Let us not waver in that work no matter the discomfort we may suffer.

Respect please..hold the anchovies

We have no problem calling up the local pizza delivery place and ordering dinner the way we like it. We don’t call them up and say, “Just send me whatever pizza you’re in the mood to make.” We don’t buy a new car with the options the salesperson really wants, nor do we download the music that our neighbor prefers.

So, if we won’t let anyone else decide what we eat, what we drive, or what we listen to, then why (oh why) do we allow others to dictate how we are treated?

We all have flaws, but that doesn’t mean we don’t deserve to be treated with respect and appreciated for who we are. If we’re not being treated properly, we need to tell them how to do it right.

There are two ways we tell people the way we want to be treated: how we treat ourselves, and how far we allow inappropriate treatment to go without correction.

When we verbally berate ourselves by saying that we’re fat/stupid/no good/etc., we are broadcasting to the world that it is perfectly fine to treat us like dirt. I’m doing it, so why shouldn’t everyone else? Go ahead, disrespect me, it’s completely acceptable.

We all have bad days, but that's no reason to demean ourselves over it.

Another great way to ensure disrespect is to not stand up for ourselves when others have crossed the line. We don’t need to go all medieval on the perpetrator, we can calmly inform them that we did not appreciate [insert behavior here] and we would be grateful if they would refrain from it in the future.

A simple, “It hurts when you say those types of things. Please stop,” should suffice. If this person continues, well then you have to decide if there is a place for them in your personal life.

You cannot change people. You can take control over how you’re treated. Bottom-line is that you’re worthy of respect. You are worthy of being treated with love and understanding, and if someone doesn’t grasp this concept...then are worth the energy?

One of my favorite scriptural verses is, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” (Psalm 139:14).

Never forget that you were created by a mighty God who loves you above all things. You are more important than the rotation of the sun, the flow of the tides, even the movement of the universe. The very God that created all things loves you more than our human finite minds can comprehend. Your talents, your laugh, your smile...your very essence is a necessary part of this world, and we all need the gifts that you offer.

No, I’m not claiming we are perfect or that we should sit on a pedestal because we’re better than everyone else. I’m saying that we are all human, and within our flaws there is a beauty and humility that we should appreciate.

Bad days will come and you will want to berate yourself for not measuring up. Go ahead, call me...I know what that feels like. We can remind each other how important we are in the eyes of God. We can laugh at our silly mistakes over coffee, share some cake, and treat each other with the respect that we deserve.

Strength in the Sorrow

Today would have been my father’s 72nd birthday. Tomorrow will be the anniversary of his death.

Every year I think I’ll be strong enough to get through these few days without breaking down. Every year I’m wrong because sorrow doesn’t play fair. When sorrow comes, it comes with the force of an army to beat down the walls around my chest until my vulnerable heart is exposed, and then it drains me of the strength to even breathe. There really isn’t any way to stop the onslaught. I just have to suffer through and wait it out.

The logical part of me gets a little miffed at that tender side of me. Giving in to the emotional messiness of mourning follows no predetermined pattern. I am a row boat in a hurricane, and I’ve lost the oars. Overwhelming and confusing, the frustration of it all leaves me lethargic...apathetic to the demands of life.

A part of me is angry with the world for acting like nothing happened. People are getting married, babies are being born, shoppers fill the malls as if it were the holidays...and I just want to scream at them to stop. How dare they act as if nothing is wrong while I’m sitting here drowning in the unrelenting deluge of my tears.

How dare people continue to live.

But that’s what we do, isn’t it? We suffer through until we find the strength to face normality. We hold on to the hope that the pain will subside and life will, somehow, be filled with love and joy again. We wait impatiently for the moment when we can breathe without guilt or pain.

As I fumble my way through these next couple of days I find that the strength I need is not within me. There is nothing left of that headstrong and self-assured woman who, just yesterday, inhabited my skin. I’ve plowed down through the very depth of my soul and I’ve found nothing there but the ache of loss.

The only strength I have is gathered from those who love me. Their strength is a blanket that I can wrap around my heart and it keeps me warm as the assault of sorrow continues. I lack the effort to breathe, to walk, to even move from this moment. It is my friends who give me breath, the strength to walk and to move forward. Right now, their arms hold me up and their love gives me the strength to put one foot in front of the other and move towards the moment when the pain no longer owns me.

It is through their strength that I can return to my life again.

My blessings in life are many. I live a life filled with contentment and peace, and the most profound blessing that God has honored me with are the people in my life. As Jesus mourned with Martha and Mary at Lazarus’ tomb, He also mourns with me and I feel that love poured out through the hearts of my friends. For this, I am eternally grateful.

In a few days, I will be myself again. The rawness of my emotions will have been tamed, the tears will have dried up. Thankfully, life will go on because I am surrounded by people that will not let me give up or let me get lost in the emotional storm.

When sorrow comes to you, and someday it will, please call me. It will steal your strength and make it difficult to breathe, to move...but I have strength that you can borrow. I will be your breath, your feet if necessary. I will be what you cannot be. We are not meant to face the trials of life alone, and I’m here for you, just as you were there for me. I will be your strength in the sorrow as you have been mine.

I'm a Who, not a What

If I told you I was a 19 year old, female college student, what would you assume about me?

What if I said my parents were from Ghana? Or Guatemala?

What would you think if I said my parents came from Pakistan?

If I were a Christian, how would you view me?

How about a Muslim?

An Agnostic, or an Atheist?

Would the things you believe about me make you want to stop reading now?

What if I claimed to be a 43 year old single mom with four kids living on welfare, what would you think about me then? Did you think that I was milking the government? Or did you take the time to hear my story and realize that I work two jobs, but it still isn’t enough because my ex-husband hasn’t paid child support in twelve years?

If I were a 57 year old man, huddled under a bridge in dirty clothes and matted hair, what would come to mind? Am I just too lazy to get a job, or just a crazy old man? Perhaps you took a moment out of your day to listen and you learned that when I lost my job several years back, I also lost my health care. Yes, I have mental and emotional issues, but the medication is expensive and I have no place to go.

Do you have a few bucks so I can buy a sandwich?

How much do you really know about the people around you? How often have you taken a step outside of your group of friends, your church group, or your co-workers and talked to the lady that clean the men’s room?

That pair of hurting eyes that watch you every morning from the street corner as you drive by...there is a person under that dirt and he could use some kindness.

In our safe little cocoon where we go from house to car to work, we have lost a little bit of our humanity. We communicate via the internet and keep our Friends List limited to the people who are like us. We close ourselves off from the rest of the world and dismiss people based on their labels, because it is the easy way; the safe way to live.

It can be a daily struggle for me to remember that that no matter how much stuff I have to get done, the people are always more important. The minute I prioritize things to-do over people, I've lost one of the best parts of myself.

The truth is that I’m not a 19 year old co-ed. I’m not a 43 year old mom, or a 57 year old homeless man. I’m a 42 year old wife, student, and an aunt. I’m a writer, a Christian, a Quaker, and loyal friend.

I’m a woman that prays desperately every night that her young nephew will survive another day in Afghanistan where people are shooting at him as he risks his life to tend to the wounds of his fellow soldiers.

I’m a graduate student praising God that she has the opportunity to continue her academic career at one of the top universities in the nation...so that someday, she can make a difference in the lives of women and children living in poverty.

I’m a wife that cooks and cleans during the day, and at night pours out her thoughts and emotions into a little blog, hoping that her words will touch the heart of someone and begin a positive change in the world.

No matter what label I wear be it wife, student or aunt, it will never truly define me. To know me, to really know me, you have to stop for a moment and let me into your world. You have to open your heart and listen to me, share with me and smile with me.

~ESW

Love and Fashion: Wearing my Faith

Since the day I could hold a paintbrush in my hand, I painted. Art was an adventure in self-expression for those moments when words served as a prison for my soul’s emotions. My love of fashion was born from my addiction to art. Fashion presented me with a way to celebrate my uniqueness; fashion becoming one with art as they both fed my hunger for creativity. They were forever linked in my heart and I could not imagine my life without them.

This passion for art came second only to my dedication to the issues of poverty, the lack of education, and abuse, especially in children. I am blessed to be able to attend graduate school at Boston College, a university dedicated to serving people from all walks of life, and a champion of social justice. Earning an advanced degree will enable me to work for the betterment of those that our society often forgets, which is, for me, a calling rather than simply a career plan.

While downsizing for our move to Boston, I gave away most of what was in my closet, including things that still had the tags on them. Such waste made me sad, so I decided that any future purchases would have to be unique clothing items that spoke to me and that supported a person rather than some faceless corporation or a big-box store. There was a lot I had to learn about the clothing industry in order to hunt down American manufacturers and international artisans, and this research into the apparel industry broke my heart.

My devotion to fashion seemed to be enslaving people for my very vanity. Children as young as 10 have been found in the sweat-shops around the world making the latest fashion for the consumer rather than attending school. It is criminal for adults to labor away for pennies a garment, but to drag children into these slave-like conditions is inhuman.

How can I claim to serve a mighty God who loves us equally, while knowingly becoming a burden to my brothers and sisters? Is it enough to speak of love and say that I follow Christ if I my words are not supported by my actions? What kind of hypocrite was I?

How can I claim to be a person of great faith, if my vanity trumps my love for humanity?

I know that in some countries a job at a factory is far better than the alternatives (i.e., prostitution, scavenging in dumps, or petty theft), however when the human rights violations are so egregious (i.e., rape and the threat of rape, beatings, or being forced to work while ill). Is it really better, or does it just soothe our conscious to tell ourselves these things when we buy those cheap T-shirts made by the hands of an abused woman?

There are factories in these developing countries that allow their employees to create a union to ensure a fair wage and humane working conditions. If we support these, we send a message the manufacturers can understand because it speaks directly to their profit margin. With Fair-Trade items becoming more mainstream, it isn’t difficult to find beautiful pieces of clothing created by artisans; people who are guaranteed payment for their skills.

According to the U.S. Department of Labor, there is a downward trend in children working in these types of apparel factories, which makes me very happy. However, I have decided to make a change in my fashion choices so that I can personally reconcile my love of fashion with my desire to help the people of this world. If anyone in a sweat-shop worked on a piece of clothing, I will not purchase it. If a company has labor complaints against them, I will not honor their practices by shopping in their stores. If there is a question in my mind that the hands that sewed the garment were not paid an honest wage, I would not knowingly buy it or wear it if I have other options.

I know that my decision will not make even the tiniest dent in the profits seen by these big businesses, but my conscious will be clear. How can I work towards the good of the forgotten people of our society, while continuing to abuse those in other countries?

The changes I’ve made in my life have been small, but they matter a lot to me. I am focusing on creating my own clothes when possible, and using cloth made in the U.S., or by someone who received a fair wage. I patronize American designers who make an effort to produce their products justly. I search for the small businesses here in The States, online or down the street...there are plenty if I take the time to look. For me, it has been a good change, a positive move in the right decision.

Art and fashion are still an important part of my life, but now they mean more. They are no longer just for self-expression. Art and fashion have become a way to apply my faith in a way that is meaningful and personal; creativity with a conscious.

So many of us are careful as to what we put into our bodies. Perhaps it is time to be a little more careful as to what we put on our bodies.

The Mouse Works (Privately owned company specializing in recycled fleece items. LOVE his hats!)
Tom's Shoes (A GREAT example of what it means to be a company with a conscious...and still succeed financially. And they make SHOES! What's not to love?)
Fair-Trade Information
Sample of Fair-Trade Items
Sweat-Free apparel guides
Responsible Shopper Site (a sample of a site that lists companies and their practices)
American Apparel: Clothing Made in America

From TED.com, another great point of view on the consumer culture we live in, and how this fun-loving designer makes clothes shopping an adventure while retaining a conscious.
Jessi Arrington: Wearing nothing new | Video on TED.com

Us, not Them

We are not them. They are not us. I am not you. We are all created different, and that is good.

You will never be me. You will never experience the world as I see it because you do not share my past. Every moment that I have lived shaped me into the person I am at this very hour. Who I will be tomorrow will not be who I am now because I will continue to grow moment by moment.

Stagnation is a horrid little disease that leads to the acceptability of mediocrity. We robe ourselves in monotony and forget that life is meant to be lived, experiences are meant to be shared. A beautiful part of that sharing is learning from each other. If we avail ourselves of those who merely mirror our social status or echo our political ideologies, what do we learn? If we surround ourselves with those who parrot our beliefs and fail to challenge our intellect, our minds grow weak and our souls suffer.

I want to taste the diverse culinary cuisine of intellectual flavors. I want to know why you do not see things as I do and I want to share with you what I see. I want to call you my brothers and sisters in humanity though we share nothing but oxygen and the desire to live fully the life we have been blessed with.

No, I will never truly understand you because your past does not belong to me. I will never fully appreciate your views or your logic, but I would like to learn from you. I would like for you to learn from me as well. Your beliefs will not change mine, nor will my thoughts influence you...and that is fine, but together we can expand our thoughts outside of ourselves and see our truths from a fresh perspective.

I wish only to celebrate your uniqueness and catch a glimpse of your brilliance. I want to share with you this moment so that when tomorrow comes, I will be a better me for having known you...and have grown from my time with you. I want to remind myself that our differences are not what define us, but they can be what bind us.

Mother Teresa said, “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.” We are all on the same journey in life, and there is no reason why we cannot keep each other company along the way.

You will never be me and I will never be you. But we can learn to appreciate one another, learn to value each other, and learn to be us instead of them.

Love and Goats

I have always had a disdain for the materialistic nature of our society. What you own seems to be more important that who you are, and I find that mentality nauseating. Give me the creative soul with the quick wit and an affinity for English literature, or the well-read, grease-covered mechanic who finds beauty in old Detroit steel and I will delight in their conversation. The size of a person’s bank account does not impress me.

Spare me the musings of the trust-fund elitists or the pseudo-intellectuals who crave the sound of their own voice, convinced that their costly education makes them better than every one else. Save me from Prada-wearing religious adherents who threaten with words of hate and damnation while spending their time judging those who fail to live up to their twisted idea of God.

There is a pity that creeps into my heart for those who are trapped within the prison of mindless consumerism. I am sad for them, for their wasted attempts to fill the void in their lives by obtaining more stuff rather than seeking solace in the one thing that truly fulfills: Love.

One of the ways I rebel against this culture of consumer is by fighting against the compulsory gifts. Many years ago I decided to fight against the guilt of obligatory presents. Somehow the giving of unneeded items became the universal sign of caring for another person, and that goes against everything that I believe. I refused to purchase the odd kitchen gadget or crystal bowl in order to fulfill some antiquated rule of etiquette.

I do not have to buy you an electric spatula to show you that I care. My love for you is not quantifiable, nor does my affection carry a price tag.

Instead of giving things, I found a way to make a difference in the world by giving hope. When a special occasion called for a present, I would donate the cost of a gift to charity. Some times I would buy teddy bears for children with cancer, or purchase a goat for a poor family in Ghana. A few dollars might buy a pretty paper weight in Michigan, or it can help a single mom in Belize buy a cow and help feed her family. You’d be amazed what a single chicken can do for a starving orphan in Haiti.

No, I am not campaigning for sainthood, I am simply taking a stand for what I believe. To do otherwise makes me feel like a giant hypocrite..and hypocrisy makes me very, very sad.

I am dedicated to the idea of equality of all people and to social justice, not because I’m an exceptionally nice person, but because that’s what my faith has influenced me to do. Because I believe it is the right thing to do. Having seen how dehumanizing poverty is, it is impossible to do nothing as I’m surrounded by the comforts of my middle-American life.

How can I believe in the universal worth of human life and write about the need for love, yet do nothing to help feed a child? How can I claim to be a follower of Christ and not use my financial blessings to show the less fortunate that they matter...even if they will never know who I am?

Mohandas Ghandi once stated that, “There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.” It seems like such a simple thing to feed another person, but this simple act sings out in an anthem of a powerful love, and it is a song that brings contentment to my heart. A contentment that I wish everyone could experience for themselves.

Am I writing this to guilt you into donating to a charity? Not at all. I am writing this to explain why someone is getting a farm animal on your birthday. I am writing to let you know why I cringe when asked what I want for Christmas. I am writing this with the hope that if you, like me, are tired of the endless holidays dedicated to the pursuit of stuff, you will consider becoming a rebel for the good of someone you may never meet.

The Challenge of Change

Change is often an unwelcome visitor. It invades our lives and steals hope. It takes our plans and decimates them. It pulls the road out from under our feet and causes us to stumble. Change is a constant; an accepted part of our existence that tests our strength and toys with our joy.

As I toured the gulf coast of Mississippi I came face-to-face with the skeletal remains of unrealized dreams. In 2005 Change was a destructive force that devoured lives as the violence of Hurricane Katrina ripped the roofs from buildings and forever transformed the way thousands of people thought about life.

While in Biloxi I reconnected with a friend from high school. As her family shared their hospitality, she invited me into her world where an angry hurricane had roared through the family's home and forever altered the direction of their lives. It was not a story of loss, nor was it a journey into self-pity. It was an enlightening introduction to the inner strength of humanity.

My friend spoke about the power of choice. The decision to fight for their future rather than crying over the past. They chose to wade through the muck and mess rather than wading through the sorrow over what was lost. They chose to dig deep into their hearts and find the strength necessary to move forward. They chose to learn, to grow, and to face the pain so that they could face tomorrow once again on dry ground.

I learned so much that day. Not just about my friend and her amazing strength, but about the ability of humanity to overcome the disastrous force of Change. I learned how the right perspective can motivate even the most broken spirit to move forward.

Helen Keller once said that the world is full of suffering, but it is also full of overcoming. Those that survive difficult times are proof of Helen's assertion. We all face Change...some of it good, some of it painful. We all have to decide how we are going to deal with Change, how we are going to move forward and move on. We have to decide if we are going to fight for tomorrow, or spend our time mourning yesterday.

We are all different and view the world differently. Every experience in our past impacted us, changed us and morphed us into the person we are today. Every time suffering enters into our life we have a choice in how how are going to face it. We can choose to learn from it and grow from it; allow it to form us into a better version of ourselves.

I know that it isn't always an easy choice to move forward. I know that pain can hit so hard that our will to live wavers and we long to give into the ache. The next time that Change threatens your dreams, I pray that you can find the strength within yourself to move towards tomorrow and rebuild your world.

If you need a helping hand or a shoulder to lean on...give me a call. I can't promise that things will work out as you want them, but I can promise that things will work out because we are created by and watched over by a loving God who will never let us go. I know that it's hard to imagine that there is a caring God when we face difficult times, but He is there and He wants the best for you. He gave you friends to lean on and people who believe in you. Just give me a call and I will remind you just how strong how you can be and how much He loves you.

(Special thanks to Bianca for sharing her inspiring spirit with me)

Pure Naked Love

I want to see you completely naked. I want to see you with your guard down, and your humanity laid bare with raw emotions and uncontrolled truth. I want to see who you really are inside beyond the fake and fluff, beyond the public image you have so superbly created.

I want to see you, real.

Thanks to the network of socializing we spew out our thoughts and actions as if we are center stage on Broadway. But how much of what we share is what we really think or feel? When was the last time we had an honest conversation about who we are and who we want to be? When was the last time the real you came out to play?

There is no shame in wanting to belong and wanting to be accepted; it is a universal desire. However, there is no acceptance by others until you find the courage to accept yourself. You must find the strength to acknowledge your humanity before you can expect the same from us.

How long will you continue to carefully construct your image for the world to see? How long will you stuff your humanity inside, hiding it away from the eyes that judge. It is easier to say things that you know people want to hear, isn't it? To censure your words and stifle your emotions is the path of least resistance.

I want to see you naked. I want to tear away your facade and witness your vulnerabilities. I want to revel in your flaws and commiserate with your blemishes. I want to share my humanity with yours and praise your courage in finding your own truth.

Were I to claim one characteristic it would be honesty. Of all of the traits I own, my ability to speak truth would be the one I cling to most vehemently. Who I am is the person I need to be, and the person you are inside is the real one. Your imperfections are marks of beauty, branding you as unique and shouting to the world that your humanity is to be treasured, not hidden.

I want to get to know the you that you have inside because love is based on truth, and love is the purest thing of all. Without love, we have nothing of worth. Without love our lives hold no value. To really love we need honesty. We need a shared humanity, which requires the truth be laid bare.

I believe in a God that is love. He created us out of love and calls us to love each other with no judgment, no falsity. As a fellow human I offer you my love and friendship, no matter where you are in your journey. But first I want to see the real you. The you that matters.

Should you find it difficult to open up and expose your raw humanity, you are not alone. I have faced that dragon and slain him, and I can tell you that it is worth the fight.

One Big Human

Each day we focus on our own needs, our own desires, our own beliefs and biases. We determine the worth of others based on their political leanings or their religious ideology. We decide their importance in our lives according to how closely they think, look and act like us.

We judge them.

A few days ago devastation struck Japan. Following a violent earthquake, a tsunami washed away thousands of lives and leaving many more without homes and basic services. Families were torn away by the angry waters and entire villages were decimated.

We held our collective breath watching in horror as mothers searched for children they would never hold again. Children screamed in fear with no father to protect them. Wives slowly came to the realization that they would never find their husbands.

As we watched, most of us did not see Japanese suffering, nor did we view them as Buddhists, or even Asians, but as fellow humans. We shared in their fears and pain with an empathy that only this type of devastation can evoke. Our hopes and dreams were put on pause as we tried to find ways to aid our brothers and sisters on the other side of the globe.

Imagine if we held on to this feeling. Imagine if we could always see others as fellow humans on an unpredictable journey through life, rather than just people who aren't like us. Imagine after this terror has passed and these brave souls have rebuilt their lives, if their politics and their religion didn't hinder our desire to know them and respect them. Imagine if that idea held true for all people.

What if the lesson we learn from this catastrophe is that love can transcend all things and bind souls tighter than any treaty or any shared ideology? If only that moment when we held our collective breath and prayed for our fellow humans could last. If we could extend our love for them past the days of their suffering into the days of their renewal.

Perhaps we might even take a moment to see the people around us everyday as fellow humans created by the same loving God. What if we could whisper a prayer for strangers on the street, or our hated political opponent rather than spit a venomous curse under our breath because they are different. Perhaps we could try to be empathetic and supportive in times of fortune, and not just during days of destruction.

What if we started acting like adults and realized that life is too short to bitch and moan about differences and that it's time we started to listen more; to accept each other with respect and dignity rather than vile contempt? Can we put away our biases and hold on to the idea of love just a little bit longer?

Can we at least try?

When I say my prayers I will be praying again for those who have been touched by this tragedy. My heart breaks for them and I fear that words are a poor vehicle for expressing the pain that I feel. But I know that together our love will have a positive impact. Especially if we can share it with one another and be just one big human for a little while, and lift each other up during this agonizing time.

Mother Teresa once said, "If you judge people, you have no time to love them."

She was one smart mother.

Unapologetic

I'm a scientist and a Christian. I am a woman who loves fast cars and yawns during chick flicks. I'm a 12-year old trapped in a 40-year old body wrapped around an old soul. I wear a mohawk with ripped jeans and a business suit with 4" stilettos.

I'm a dichotomy. I don't fit in and I don't blend in. I will not stay inside that little box of yours and I won't wear your label.

I'm not here to win your approval.

Society doesn't like the outsider, the rebel, the outlier. These people are scary...uncertainty unnerves us. We like normal. We like safe.

Rosa Parks was tired of safe. Thomas Jefferson was not about to go with the political flow. Ghandi had had enough of compliance. Wilma Mankiller was beautifully unconventional.

Those who dare to step outside of the neatly painted lines are the ones we remember. The history books are not filled with stories about those who complied with normalcy. Go ahead, take a step outside of your comfort zone and just drink in the freedom.

I'm not advocating chaos and anarchy. I'm advocating finding your passion and your voice...working out your dreams even if it means breaking boundaries and stepping on the occasional toe.

Life is a gift so live it every moment of every day and don't stop until you are out of dreams. Stop listening to the critics and shut out the voices that disapprove of you. You don't need them..if they don't get you, then move on and find someone who will. And someone will...God already does, and it won't take long before those around you begin to recognize your uniqueness and love you for it.

Growing up I was a very shy child. I conformed out of fear, obeyed the rules out of necessity because to stand out was to be different and being different meant a lack of acceptance. I wasn't brave enough back then.

Now, I am unapologetically ME. My bravery comes from two distinct sources: my faith and my friends. No matter how badly I screw up, I will always be loved unconditionally by my God. He has given me a passion for life and I will use every sweet and precious moment I have to fill up on love and laughter until my very last breath and proclaim the truth that He is my strength.

My beloved friends also give me courage. Looking past my flaws, they have found the good in my eccentric ways and have embraced the insanity that is my life. Their devotion bolsters my heart against the pressure to conform and their love is the song that I dance to when I'm waiting on the outside looking in.

And I can never thank them enough. Not ever.

The moral of the story is to rejoice in your differences, to embrace the things that are unique and cherish the unexpected qualities in yourself. It isn't an easy path to walk...it can be lonely and often confusing, but the rewards are amazing.

Don't you owe it to yourself to really BE yourself?

A (much needed) Kick to the Head

Applying to graduate programs in psychology is an arduous journey of rewriting essays, endless (somewhat silly) application questions, and moments of complete and utter frustration that usually end in tears and questioning one's sanity. There are claims that getting into a Ph.D. program in psychology is far more difficult than being accepted into medical school. I do not recommend this particular career choice for the faint of heart.

When I made the decision two years ago to pursue a doctoral degree in psychology I made a list of the requirements and set to it. I did everything I possibly could to look like the model student, even forgoing sleep and a social life for the sake of scientific research. I was determined to succeed and didn't even entertain the idea that I might not get in to a program. Come on, I'm awesome...who could possibly reject me? Seriously, is it even possible?.

But now as I wait for acceptance letters, I realize that not getting into a doctoral program is actually an option. While I wait for 3 more schools to clue me on my application status, I have to face the fact that I might not be accepted anywhere.

Just so that we're clear, I'm a very strong applicant, but my undergraduate degree in anthropology appears to be a detriment to my current goals...and some schools just can't seem to deal with someone who didn't major in psychology. A little close-minded and childish on their part if you ask me, but I digress.

So, with limited options I will soon set out to pursue a Master's degree in psychology before going after the Ph.D. programs again. Overall, it's been a sad journey thus far...one where I find myself occasionally bathing in self-pity and shedding tears of anger for the time I've spent working towards this goal. How dare they not accept Me!

It was during one of these moments of embattled bitterness where I received a giant kick to the head. I was grumbling and cursing the schools for the lack of vision in accepting such an awesome student when I received a letter from a child I sponsor through Compassion International. I've sponsored Michele, a sweet little 14 year-old from Haiti, for about 8 years now. She struggles with her math classes but loves to sing and play basketball.

Oh, and did I mention she lives in Haiti?

In her latest letter she thanks me for the Christmas gift I had sent and talks about her parents and how she is doing better with her math homework. Michele says that she prays for me and my family every night before she goes to sleep. She also talks about the damage her village continues to deal with since the earthquake last year, the shortage of fresh water and how so many people around her are dieing from a plague of cholera.

Yes, this child is watching people die from a plague while I sit on my rather privileged behind and whine about not being accepted in a Ph.D. program.

Shallow much?

I'm still a bit perturbed that I have to expend the time and energy to apply to various Master's programs...and I'm annoyed each and every time I receive the dreaded, "Thanks, but no thanks" letter, but my perspective has changed a bit.

I have the means and opportunity to apply these programs, which will move me towards my goal of working with and counseling adolescents. I have the support of a wonderful husband and I've been blessed with incredible mentors who believe in me and my abilities. While I dread the essays and banal application questions, my life is pretty sweet.

I live in a country where women can pursue not only an advanced degree, but we can attend college without fearing for our lives. I have been so blessed that I will probably never have to fear a lack of food or worry about a plague of cholera sweeping through my town. I am fortunate to have the talent and determination to fight for my goals and to follow my dreams no matter which path they take.

I'm pretty dang fortunate, and it took a little girl living in poverty to remind me how fortunate I am.

An important lesson was learned here: it's not so much where you are, but how you choose to see where you are. Yes, rejection sucks and there is no way to sugar coat it. Yes, running into road blocks on your way to success hurts, but if you're not willing to bruise a knee now and then in order to reach your goal...then you probably don't deserve it anyway.

If you don't get what you want, when you want it...at least you're not worrying about a lack of fresh water for your village.

Thanks Michele, I really did need that.

I needed to take a step back and check out the larger picture here. I trust that life holds wonderful things for me, because that is what my faith tells me. I trust that God has some pretty cool opportunities for me in my future, and if I'm wallowing in my pity pool I might miss them.

So, if you're having one of those moments when life seems unfair and you're wondering why the universe is joining forces against you, then give me a call. We can have a cup of coffee and share a large helping of reality. And we can start working on Plan B.

Being More

It's that time again when we engage in our annual exercise of self loathing. We make resolutions to weigh less, eat less, and spend less. We wage war against ourselves trying to be less, focusing on the bits we don't like and torturing ourselves in the process.

Why don't we try something new this year? Why don't we focus on being more rather than less? Let's do something wild and revolutionary and fix our attention on those things about us that are good. Let's build upon those characteristics that are positive rather than waste time on the things that we believe to be sub par.

I know, it doesn't feel right to choose positive changes as our resolutions, but this will be good...trust me.

Sounds nuts, but think about it for a moment. You possess so many wonderful features that bless the lives you touch. Why start the new year looking at the bad when there is so much that is good about you?

You're smart, funny, charming, and you are the one we turn to when we need to feel cared for. You are the encourager, the one who keeps the faith even when things seem bleak. You are unique and important...and we are so very grateful that you are here.

We don't want less of you, we need more of you. We need more of your joy, your laughter and your support. We need more of your happiness and your beautiful smile. We need more of your kindness and your silly sense of humor.

You were created as a unique and important person...a person with so much to offer. Work to be more encouraging, more charming, more positive...more of the things that make you so wonderful.

So resolve to be more this year. Our lives will be better for having more of you in them.

Not sure how to begin? Call me and we'll figure it out together.

Happy New Year my friend. Be real, be you...and be more.