Pain: Absorb or Reject?

My fear of pain started young, and for anyone who knew me as a child/teenager, I was (and still am!) woefully bad at sports. I hate being in pain. I do not like being pushed harder. I do not want to be told that "anyone can stand on their head in a corner and spit nickles for a certain period of time". I would rather quit and move on.

From early on, I gave up at pain. After getting hit in the face with a basketball in 2nd grade (hey, it hurts a lot with glasses) at a two-week camp, I never tried again. In high school, I "played" volleyball and the coach wanted me to dig for the ball. And I thought "seriously, you want me to dive, face first into the carpeted concrete and hit a ball that will turn my arms bright red? No, thank you, I'll sit on the bench please." My dad never understood why I didn't go out and practice to get better (uhh... it hurts!). Even cross country, I only lasted a year, and my goal was only to not be last. So yeah, generally when things are painful I stop (and if you're wondering why hand-eye uncoordinated Natalie could be on a high school volleyball team? It was only because the high school only had 30 people in it, and I did it because we got to travel with the boys basketball team...).

When I recently decided to finally write more and had (what I thought) was a good idea for a book, I went for it. Luckily the first person I told, was supportive and encouraging. So spurred by that, off I went, it felt natural. Sweet! Maybe I'll be able to do something creative, be at least part of the person I wanted to be when I was growing up (a writer and an artist - hey, I'm left handed, it makes sense!).

But I made a fatal mistake, I did not follow the instructions of one blog that said to Keep it to yourself.

"One of the biggest mistakes beginning writers make is showing their early efforts to anyone who will look. I know, it’s tempting. You’re writing a novel. You want feedback! You want support! You want someone to tell you it’s awesome"

Whelp, I didn't take that seriously, and shared again... it only took 1 more person before I hit the negative comments that made me feel as if what I was doing was unoriginal and not worth pursuing. Embarrassed I thought, what's the point? I barely started and already hearing it's a dumb idea, I should just quit. It's just going to get worse, and as I know myself, I go out of my way to avoid pain and conflict. Negative feedback in any form takes years for me to move past, some of it I still hold on to until this day (yes, I still remember indirectly finding out a woman I idolized thought I was annoying, talk about knife in the tender psyche of a pre-teen!). What was I even thinking attempting such a project?

But there was that small small voice in the back of my head that said - keep on and keep it to yourself.

It got me to thinking about how being creative is such a vulnerable thing. I mean, you want what comes out of you to be appreciated and validated. You want to hear "that's a great idea" or "wow I really like what you did", or at least "good luck". Whatever you've created was or is something important to you/how you felt/a pivot point in your life. There are a few options when faced with this, don't share your art, quit, or I guess for those with larger balls than I, push through and create anyway. I realized how hard it is to create art and maintain your self-esteem to keep going. No wonder so many artists descend into madness or alcohol.

So if all of this is just about the process, then maybe I'll learn how to be better at not listening to negative feedback on something I am pursuing. Or at least nurture the creative side to find another idea that seems better.

Anyway, I think I'm going to keep writing, but planning on keeping the whole thing to myself. So if you ask me what I'm up to, I'll say I'm writing. And for all you know, it may as well be tweets I'm writing to the Twitterverse. I'm going to attempt to push past my instinct to quit. And if I get 5,000 more words down the road, and I feel like it's not working, I'm going to re-read the "How to Write a Novel" post, put on some Sigur Ros, and attempt to just keep writing.

Getting Lost in Myself

Whenever I want to do something more, I seem to end up doing it less. I want to wake up a half hour earlier, and instead sleep an hour longer. I want to workout more, and I haven't been to the gym in months. I want to write more, and I have no words to write. What is it about human nature that when we consciously want to do something, the lazy side of us kicks in and blocks us with tv, tiredness, stupid tablet games, anything but what the deep inner self wants.

I know I have been negligent in managing my blog, I mean, I haven't even so much as given it more than a passing thought. Maybe I should write about Budapest, about my summer, or maybe I'd have something to say about the fact that I adopted a dog (and my whole life revolving around him). But no, few words or inspirations have crossed my path. I have been reading a bunch, and they have largely been in the self-improvement arena (Total Money Makeover, 4-Hour Workweek).

So when what I'm calling my new church started a series on "Is this SERIOUSLY my life", it struck a cord deep inside. I started thinking about my personal life and feelings of dissatisfaction, confusion on where to go next, unhappiness in my current work, and just general feelings of unrest. Every fiber in my being screams at me to run away, to go live in a little cottage in a small village and be that odd American girl with her dog who lives at the end of the lane (complete with a meet cute with Jude Law). I think of movies like Under the Tuscan Sun, The Holiday, and Elizabethtown (though the last is less about international, but still in the vein of running away). What is it that appeals to me so strongly? It's that abandoning who we think we are, stripping away of all the preconceived notions and ideas of self, and forging a new path, one that is truer to our being.

That is where this morning's sermon (if you want to call it that) fit in. Instead of a monologue, it was a dialog between two men. They talked about finding that brokenness and working through it to come to the true self. Going through the death to experience the rebirth, and acknowledging that the body is a whole, and when the subconscious is in pain and conflicted it manifests itself in physical ways (pains in the stomach, aches in the back and neck). While the "good Christian child" inside me screams how new age this sounds, in my heart of hearts, it rings painfully true. How often do I just want to get around the pain and find what I am supposed to be or where I am supposed to go. The answer to these questions really is inside of us, and asking God to tell us what to do, is kind of the easy way out, it's saying I don't want to deal with the crap, I want the easy answer. When if we dug through and dealt with all the hurt inside, we would easily find that the answer is inside of us. It would be a gut reaction deep in our souls.

Anyway, that's a lot of deep for a sunny October Sunday. But if you're interested in the dialog, you can find it here 10/4/15 Is this seriously my life? - and I would say don't skip the songs if you have the time, they all connect into the theme of what the message is trying to teach. Not to mention the last one, which is a Damien Rice song. Seriously, a church that can see worship in the secular is my kind of church.

You Shouldn't Do That

Let me tell you, dating is tiring.  After the 10th first date, it tends to lose it's magic (10 is not statistically accurate, but sharing about yourself and forcing yourself to be interested in someone else gets old fast).  Some people like to tell me I'm too picky, but I'm sure if they perused through my options on OKCupid, they would tell me I would be settling with any of them.  Damned if you do and damned if you don't.

When this week is over, I'll have had some 4 first dates (I think for the month, it'll end up being somewhere around 10?).  You can't say I'm not trying.  And when you add to that "it's better to give someone a chance and not decide too quickly", second dates pile on top and you find you have no time for the gym, friends, or cleaning your apartment.  So yes, I am tired.  Tired of feeling like this takes so much work, tired of the advice, tired of feeling alone, tired of going out there and doing things so I am not accused of "not living my life waiting to meet someone".

Let me tell you, after the millionth time you've sat alone at a cafe, restaurant, bar, concert, park, museum, etc, you do get tired of your own company and feel rather lonely.  And I don't think I could really ever be accused of not trying living my life on my own (I mean most people assume I would be miserable having a relationship because then I couldn't do all the things I do.  Umm, I am choosing to live my life this way, because I don't want to sit around waiting, not because this was the end goal!).

I feel like I'm a parent trying to keep their kid occupied during summer break.  And you say "why don't you just relax at home more" - oh great, yeah, I'm sure Mr. Anybody is hiding out under my bed and I never noticed him before (CREEPER!)!  And yes, I know it's good to try dating and then to pull back, but you have to give it some time to start up before you give up and pull back to not dating (does that make any sense?).

And of course, when you confess this to friends, they tell you "You shouldn't feel that way", "You shouldn't do so much", "You shouldn't try so hard", "You should do more of what you want", "You should you should you should".  It makes me want to scream!  Can we all decide that use of the word should is completely inappropriate?  Who are we to tell someone what they should or should not feel/do/think/act? "There is only feel and do, there is no should." (D.R.)  Telling someone what they should do to get a date or be happy is rude.  It implies they haven't thought of or aren't logical enough to "understand the real situation".  It devalues their feelings and thoughts.  It is just rude.  If I tell you, "I feel rejected because so and so never called", how is telling me "I shouldn't feel that way" helpful?  It's okay to let your friends feel a certain way, and just acknowledging that yes, not hearing from someone sucks.  End of story.

We feel and think and act how we feel, and yes, sometimes I am so frustrated by this whole process I am illogical.  But trust me, I am completely aware of the logic side of the puzzle (umm, have you met me, I'm a pretty damn logical person), but logic doesn't always matter when it comes to feelings.  And my feelings lately are that this whole thing sucks.  So like my rant a few months ago about not assuming things about people, can we also decide that to acknowledge the way someone feels is a much nicer and caring response then trying to "fix" or "solve" them?

(This soapbox moment is another installment of "You Know What Really Grinds My Gears")

Failed MRS

If any of you know me, you know that I joke that I went to college for my MRS degree.  And I remember distinctly my senior year being told by some jerk in my accounting class, that "I guess you failed that one!"  Almost 10 years later, and I still have not accomplished that 'feat' and those words still sting.

Within the last 36-hours, I have had 3 people tell me that I am crazy (and not in a joking manner, but more towards the 'who I am' frame of reference), torn a pair of jeans in an uncomfortable and embarrassing way, and been told that I would be a horrible mother (was going to make the baby I was holding cry and that I looked awkward - from multiple people in front of a larger group of peers).  This Halloween has certainly been more of a trick than a treat.  I feel like I got salt poured, rubbed, scrubbed, and sanded into this gaping wound.  Because if you also know me, you would know that all I have ever wanted to be was a mother.  And like the rest of you, I just want someone to love and care for me.  To need me and for me to need them.  To not be alone, because man just cannot live...alone.

It never ceases to amaze me how mean people can be, and how self-absorbed and rude that comes across when they make assumptions about another person.  At what point has it been okay to wound someone, and then back-peddle saying 'we were only joking'.  I've been told that I should show people how I am hurt, to let them see the side of me that I keep hidden in an attempt to look/act/be what society says is 'normal'.  In doing so, I guess I become fake and then people don't know what could hurt, because I don't show that.

I live every day with this intense pressure that I am alone.  The fear that I won't be a good mother or ever get to be a mother.  That this is what my life will continue to be, a full one - but not a completely fulfilling one.  That there will always be that something I'm lacking and that bond with a person I won't have.  I just can't believe that this is my life, and that I must have made some wrong choice in my 'choose your own adventure' story - one that led far away from what I hoped for.  And honestly, that's probably what hurt the most is someone putting me in a box and attacking that hope.

This was a little raw, and a lot all over the place.  But this is me, this is what scares me more than anything else.  And I think better through written word.  So the next time you have an urge to make some 'funny' comment, think about the assumptions you are making about that person first.  And I'll do the same, plus allow myself to be hurt and let you know, because if I don't, I'm just keeping up the facade that reinforces your incorrect assumptions about who I am and what I want from life.

Child of the Mind

I always look forward to reading friends' blogs, but then I realize I can't give them a hard time without doing a little dirty work on my own.

I've been sitting on this for a bit, and thought it was time to share.  It was a moment in time where I was able to see outside of myself (my frustration and pain) and see the beauty of human interaction.  It uplifted my heart, and while today is just a regular old day, it's nice to remember.

It is amazing how I want to write when it is least convenient. Nevertheless, as I sit here on a plane from Seattle to Chicago, listening to music, reading Children of the Mind, sipping a little bit of wine, my brain is a buzz of written activity.  And it is bursting from me, so much so that I can’t even type fast enough.

It all started so simply.  I finally had clarity as to why the Ender’s Game series pulls me in so deeply.  I was thinking back to a conversation with a friend who was meeting me where I was and where I needed her to be.  She sought to understand me, and know me, but not correct or lead me.  She showed me this, and in turn, blessed me through it all weekend.  Reminding me that people are part of your life, your ‘philotic connection’, when and how they need to be.  I don’t know how to communicate that, except through an example.  This morning, when I asked her advice of what I was wearing, I didn’t realize until later that I was not asking her to tell me to change, I was asking her to tell me that as I was, I was okay.  And she affirmed me, because I think she knew that’s what I really wanted – not the advice, but the affirmation.  Too many times, we try to solve each other, when we just really want acceptance of our self.

Fast forward to the airport, where humanity collides and bumps along.  When we travel, we seem to change our patterns, somehow this traveling, this movement, changes how we interact (watch us drive; we would never be as mean in real life as this).  There is so much to analyze, to witness, to try to understand, to amuse, and to frustrate.  As I watch and get a bit frustrated by it all, in the back of me, I yearn to see them as they want to be seen – exactly as this silly book series portrays.  To see their true self.  To love them as they are and want to be – not the pushy, self-interested people they become in the airport/on the planes.

And then, as I get to board early, and watch the pushing humanity continue to unfold before me, I get the chance to connect with another human – the person that we often overlook, because after all – they are just doing their job, serving us, making us more comfortable, enforcing rules that feel asinine to us.  And yet, they are there - human and wonderful, because these are the true observers, the see-ers of the self and the silly.

I did nothing other than converse with her, to show her I had some understanding of her plight and that I saw the struggle of her position. To practice that thing called "kindness".  I did not mean all this when I was doing it, but when her co-worker said, “She tells me not to charge you, what did you do?”  I thought, I didn’t "do" anything.  I was just trying to connect with her, to see her, to show her that I understood her.

To me, it wasn’t much, I grew up with a father whose goal was to make waitresses smile.  But I could tell that she was a person to be acknowledged, because people like that should be encouraged to keep on (I mean, it was American Airlines...).  So I’d already decided to write to the airline and commend her.  So many times, we see the flight attendants who are jaded (and why shouldn’t they be?  We don’t always treat them as they should be treated – it’s a hard, thankless job – where you are mostly noticed when things go wrong).  

And I as I was thinking about this, I realized she beat me too it, she showed me kindness, when that was what I wanted to do for her.  And in that moment, I felt overwhelmed by love and by a feeling of love for others.  This was all happening as I continued to read, as the book was depicting Jane moving to see the world through new eyes, and the understanding that came and moved through her new knowledge.  I feel like I also received the most lovely gift of seeing people through cleansed eyes, with  #nofilter.

It is a powerful, extremely moving experience to look at people, as God must see them.  As unique and wholly deserving individuals.  So wonderfully made in His image, formed as unique creatures.  At that point, the circle became complete in my mind.  My understanding of how I want to see people, as they want to be seen, coincides with how I believe God sees them.  As they are.  And in that moment, I felt blessed.

It was so beautiful.  The power and emotion of it overwhelmed me.  For the second time reading this book, I cried.  The first time for the loss of a character that I had somehow connected with, the second time for the beauty of seeing people as I imagine he (Ender) saw them.  Through all their imperfections, it was overwhelming.  Too much to hold, even now, I’m only remembering the memory, and not feeling that full passion that was “it” at the time.  I don’t even think I could hope to want it back, as I don’t know if I am enough to hold it.  But I do hope that I am enough to act it out as I saw it.  To not be blinded by people’s imperfections, but to see them as they deserve to be seen.

Alright, I'll get off my soapbox.  But the next time you find yourself frustrated and judgey, try flipping your view and seeing what is beautiful and possibly hurting in the person.  You'll doing little for them, and everything for yourself.