Mass Produced Authenticity

A friend of mine just posted a link on Facebook to an article about the design craze called “authenticity”.  Basically the point of this article is that for a while it was a craze to get a “one of a kind” item and fill your house with “authentic” pieces so that now companies are mass producing “authentic” design items and it loses its kick.

This made me think about authenticity in general.  This is definitely a buzz word that a lot of people have latched on to.  I think as a society, it is becoming more acceptable to be different and honest.  Look at the success of television shows like Glee – making heroes out of the misfits in society. 

I am definitely drawn to real authenticity.  I like being around people who are flawed and aware of it.  Not afraid to talk about their struggles and issues.  But what I have noticed recently is a new trend towards “manufactured authenticity”.  People who can talk the talk and know all the right words to say to appear authentic…but it is really just a thin veneer that when examined closely is easily recognizable as a façade.

I have to admit, I can do this myself.  I know all of the right words to say.  I can weave a good “story” about my life when asked, all the while hiding the truth about who I am.  I can seem authentic while hiding the parts of myself that I don’t want people to know.

For me, the only thing I can do is continually ask myself if I am really being authentic.  Am I walking the walk?  Do my life and choices match up with my words?  Am I really letting people know the real me or am I keeping a part of it shut off from the world?

I can’t force others to be authentic…truly authentic…but I think true, honest and real authenticity can shine the light on the façade that others are putting on.   Sometimes the shiny, newness of the fake gives it away- like looking at a real antique table next to a Pottery Barn replica.  The shininess of the fake is the telltale sign that something is not quite right.

I am going to have to mull this over some more….but those are my thoughts of the morning.

Running into Walls

So my friend just recently reminded me of a dream she had once when my son was younger.  Andy was constantly running for the bathroom.  It became a huge joke amongst the adults because he would run into things, trip and fall…it was dangerous. So one day my friend had a dream that Andy died because he ran into the wall on his way to the bathroom.

It is not as morbid as it sounds…it was highly hilarious at the time and we could all picture it.  Andy -not calculating the distance around the corner just right and slamming into the wall.  It happened almost daily.

The interesting thing is that this could actually be a metaphor for Andy’s life.  The poor kid keeps finding himself running into walls.  Not literal ones (although my new garage door does attest to the fact that sometimes that is still true) but figurative ones.

Life is just hard for this poor kid.  He has always been socially awkward – being brainy and way smarter than everyone else.  But now he is all too aware that he is different.  He finds himself struggling to be “normal” and fit in with everyone else.  He feels like he just gets the momentum going and then he slams into some unforeseen wall and falls down.

What I would love to convey to him in words that would sink in to his heart is that EVERYONE feels this way.  I don’t care how popular, beautiful, smart, funny, or social you are.  Everyone has times when they feel like they don’t fit in.  And I would venture to guess that this is heightened during the high school and college years. Whoever it was that said high school is the best years of your life was just a liar.

Last year Andy asked me to watch a movie with him.  He had been watching this movie over and over again (something he definitely gets from me).  Something about it resonated deep within him and he was watching it over and over again to understand why it spoke to him.  The movie was “Pink Floyd’s The Wall”.  Which was very literally about a man who felt socially awkward and like he didn’t fit in.  It was about isolation and building walls to protect yourself from the pain of the world. 

I watched this movie with him and was amazed at how much he realized about himself.  How he got some measure of comfort from sharing this movie with me and with his friends.  He was very literally reaching out in the way that he knew how – through art and music – and telling everyone how he felt.  We had a fantastic conversation about this movie but it didn’t change how he felt.  It didn’t help make him understand that others feel this same way.  That he was not the only one.

Unfortunately, there is nothing that I can say to get him to understand this.  And nothing that I can do to prevent him from feeling this way …although the mother/fixer in me so wishes this were so.  I would give anything to spare my kids from pain.

I wish life were easier.  Although having gone through my share of pain and awkwardness, I know that there is often a reason and a lesson that is worth learning the hard way.  It would just be nice if some of the walls could be knocked down before we slam into them.  I am just saying…

The Truth About Me

So I was walking down the hallway today when a coworker stopped me.

“I hear you like crossword puzzles,” he says.

“I do?” I say with a very confused look on my face.

“Try this one and tell me if you think it is too hard,” he says shoving a piece of paper into my hands.

I have to say this was very confusing to me on many levels.  First of all, I am not sure who started the rumor that I like crossword puzzles.  A few years ago, Molly and I were completely addicted to the People Magazine crossword puzzles because they were all about pop culture.  I think for about a month, we did every People magazine crossword puzzle that existed.  Then we ran out of them…and I haven’t done one since.

Secondly, I am not sure if this was a challenge, a compliment or a friendly gesture.  I now feel obligated to try the crossword puzzle (which is incredibly hard by the way!) and feel like I will be judged based on my inability to complete it.

SO let me just tell you a little known truth about me. 

I am not incredibly good at stuff that requires a lot of intellect. 

I know…this comes as a shock to all of you who think I am brilliant.  But intellectual things kind of stump me.

For example, I love to read.  I read a lot and I read fast.  (So fast in fact that in the required Speed Reading class I had to take in high school I surpassed the reading goal that we were supposed to accomplish by the end of the semester on Day 1…they didn’t have anything to teach me.) But I don’t read things that are too heavy or require a lot of thought.  Poetry and Shakespeare is confusing to me.  I love Romeo and Juliet and have seen/read it over twenty times.  Just recently I was watching a movie adaptation and understood a MAJOR plot point that explained the entire movie…for the very first time.  I completely missed it the first 19 times.

I love to write…but notice that my strength is straight forward, to the point writing.  Not a lot of frou frou adjectives, bogged down descriptions, heavy metaphors and foreshadowing.  BECAUSE I DON’T GET THAT STUFF (at least on first pass through).

Really.  Politics…don’t get it.  Financial stuff like mortgages, retirement accounts….don’t get it.

I can fake it pretty good though. 

It is not that I am not smart…I really am.  I just don’t like to spend time trying to understand things that I don’t care about.  I don’t care to hold every piece of trivia in my brain so that I will be good at Trivial Pursuit the one time every five years I play the game.  I don’t care about politics so I don’t try to understand them except the one time every four years I vote (ok…I can hear the audible gasp now…yes I don’t vote either).

When I read a book, I want to understand what it is about…not try to figure out every little word, the hidden meaning and the context.  I want to be swept away in the story.

So, there you go.  That is the truth about me.  I will now go and try to figure out what a 12 letter word for “marsupial warfare” is.

16

My daughter turns sixteen years old tomorrow.  Sixteen years…that flitted by so quickly it is hard to believe.  She went from being the tiny shy little blond girl who was always burying her head in my shoulder to this tall, confident gorgeous girl who lights up every room she enters. 

I can’t believe she will be sixteen tomorrow.  Sixteen is a huge milestone.  You are more adult than kid…driving a car, making huge decisions about careers, college and life partners.

I was thinking the other day how much I enjoy my daughter and our relationship.  I think there is a fine balance you walk with your kids as they grow up and at some point you have to make a decision.  Do I want to be their friend or their parent?  I think it is like a pendulum swinging and it is easy to go too far one way or the other.

If you are too consumed with being the parent – sometimes you don’t allow your kids to make their own choices.  There are so many rules and restrictions in place that when your child graduates college and goes out into the real world – it can paralyze them.  I have seen this many times when either the child rebels like crazy or curls up into a little ball of fear.

If you are too consumed with being your child’s friend, it can be just as damaging.  These are the parents who are hosting the drinking parties, giving their kids drugs or taking them to clubs at an early age.  Kids can grow up not knowing any authority or not knowing when to be responsible because they don’t have any good role models. OR as a divorced parent, it can be too easy to make your child your world and talk to them about things you really should not talk with them about – whether that is financial stresses, dating issues, etc. 

I haven’t done a lot of things right in this world.  I will be the first to admit that.  But one thing I think I have gotten 80% right – is my relationship with my daughter.  We have fun together, I love hanging out with her and her friends.  She makes me laugh more than anyone I know.  She knows her responsibilities and she balances them well.  I allow her to make mistakes and decisions and she is respectful most of the time in thinking through her decisions.  As she has grown older, I have given her more freedom.  She chooses good friends and I trust her to make good choices.  She knows she can talk to me about anything but I don’t force her to share everything. 

We are mostly friends but at no time do I forget that I am her parent.  Sometimes I have to lay down the law or tell her things she doesn’t like.  She sometimes takes this well and other times doesn’t.  But that is how I know that we have a good relationship.  She is not always happy with me and I am not always happy with her – but our relationship is real and she is not afraid I am going to punish her for being mad at me.  I am not afraid she is not going to like me if I tell her no. 

I believe that teenagers need parents.  They need authority and security as much as they need the freedom to make their own bad decisions.  After all that is how you learn and grow. 

So today I am thinking about my daughter and how grateful I am for her.  And I am excited and scared to see what her sixteenth year brings. Because I know that she is going to do some pretty amazing things.

Survival

I am completely fascinated with books, movies and television shows about surviving. I am not sure where it started…possibly with the movie Swiss Family Robinson – which I remember loving as a very small child. Something about that really cool treehouse with running water always drew me in.

I continued to seek out books about surviving…"Baby Island", "Hatchet", "Alive"…you name it and I read it. As you can imagine, the reality show "Survivor" was custom made for me.

I am completely convinced that if I ever get in a plane crash in the middle of the ocean, I will be able to make fire, build a shelter and find food. I might even make a friend out of a volleyball.

This week, having discovered a new show on my Netflix called "Dual Survival", I have been wondering why I am so drawn to these shows. And the conclusion I have come to is that it is not about fear. I am not one of those people who actually think any of this will happen to me. I don’t carry a pocket knife and emergency kit with me wherever I go "just in case". I don’t scan the plane for emergency exits and plot my path in case the little masks drop down.

I think it is more about the adventure and self-reliance that hooks me. This came to me in a flash this week watching "Dual Survival". The entire premise involves two survivalists who are put into a survival scenario that people could find themselves in. They have to find their way out of the situation (think run out of gas in the middle of the desert, go on a hike in caves and get lost, etc).

There is a segment on the show that is called "The Art of Self-Reliance". It shows some little tip on how to do something (find water, make fire, find edible plants…). But the name really struck me. I think I am drawn in by the idea of relying on myself to survive and find rescue. Not sitting around feeling like a victim, but putting my knowledge and brain to work to get myself out of a situation – however unexpected.

There is something deeply messed up about that. Where did I ever get the idea that I needed to prepare myself to rely only on my own wits to survive? That I might need to fend for myself and get myself out of bad situations without relying on other people?

I have no answers for this…I just find it very interesting and have been thinking about it this week. Perhaps I need to focus more on the adventure piece than the survival piece. I am just saying…

Writing prompts and practice

Just playing with writing prompts again. Today it was start with these words..."Her laugh broke the silence".

Her laugh broke the silence.  Quickly she clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and apologetic.  Ducking her head, she ignores the glared of those around her.  She nervously straightened her black skirt and kept her eyes down until everyone faced the front again.

She hadn’t meant to laugh out loud or be disrespectful.  She had simply been remembering the last time she had seen Heidi. 

They had been walking down the hallway at school on the last day of senior year, chatting and laughing as always.  The girl in front of them tripped over the door jam and slammed into the wall.  Two seconds later Heidi tripped on the same door jam and fell down laughing. 

“I was just making fun of that girl in my head for tripping and then I tripped!” she choked out, tears streaming down her face.  They stood there laughing their heads off while the rest of the students filed past to their seats.  It took them a full 10 minutes to stop laughing.  That was so much like Heidi.  Clutzy and silly and not caring what anyone thought of her. 

The music swelled around her and brought her back to the present.  It was hard to believe that only three days ago they had been laughing so hard.  She would give anything to go back to that moment now, to warn her, to stop this.

Her eyes welled up with tears.  She grabbed for the box of Kleenex at the end of the row and blew her nose quietly.  She slowly stood to her feet with the rest of the crowd and slowly followed the casket up the aisle.

The Most Segregated Hour of the Week

I am sure you have heard this before…that Sunday morning is the most segregated hour of the week.  Everyone has their own “church” and separates from the rest of the world to go to their own place.  I think this has gotten better over the last few years although I am sure it is still a problem but can I pose another thought?

I think for some people – Sunday morning can be the loneliest hour of the week.  Not only have I personally experienced this – but I work with a certain segment of the population that would say the same.  Now before anyone gets all bent out of shape – I will say – this might be only my experience and might be a product of the fact that I go to a mega church.  I will hold out hope that this is different in smaller churches.

Let me give you a snapshot of yesterday. 

I walked into my large church (at which I work and know HUNDREDS of people…quite literally) and saw not one person I knew.  I sat in the coffee shop for a while reading a book…then proceeded to go sit in a section where I have heard people are friendly.  One person I work with commented on my new hairstyle from across the aisle.  I waved and said hi.

The section stayed mostly empty until about 5-10 minutes after the service started.  It was pretty full and I had to get up several times to let people in…families with small kids, couples…

Church ended and I walked down to the lobby – waited for my daughter for at least 10 minutes, walked out and left.

This is how it is most weeks.  I have sat in many different places, tried to start conversations with people but what I have noticed is that most people come with their own “group” whether that be their small group or just their family and are catching up with them before and after the service or they are coming late and leaving early.  

I have talked to several other single people and what I am finding is that most of them are having the same experience.  Walking in to a large building, trying to find someone to talk to or sit with and failing, walking out alone…it makes it very challenging to want to come to church. 

Then what I hear from my single friends as well is that church is so focused on families and marriages that they feel even more excluded.  That they are somehow not as “normal” or “fulfilled” as other people.  That somehow they are not as welcome.

This makes me sad.  It makes me sad that a place that is supposed to feel like a respite after a long week, a place that is supposed to feel like a community can be so isolating.

I don’t think anyone has any intentions of having church feel exclusionary.  I think if asked…most –if not all- people who attend our church would want people to feel welcome.  But for some reason, they are not realizing that it is their problem to solve.

Yes, it is my responsibility to try to meet people.  I completely agree with that.  But I have lost track of how many times I have tried to strike up a conversation.  How many times I have tried to join a small group, start a small group or invite myself to a small group – only to be ignored. 

And I have heard this from others as well.

I know it can be different.  I have experienced it.  I have been to a place where everyone talks to everyone.  Where first time visitors are invited to join an existing group or lunch invitation.  Where everyone is looking out for that person who looks new so they can be friendly and welcoming. 

I know it can happen…but not unless it becomes everyone’s problem to solve. 

Teenage Drama

One of my favorite things is talking with my daughter’s friends about the drama in their lives.  I think it is because I was such an angst ridden teenager. 

The teenage years were challenging for me.  I was a very insecure, awkward girl who was suddenly moved across the country to a “foreign” land and thrust into the most elite public school in our area.  I couldn’t figure out how to fit in – no matter how hard I tried – so I eventually kind of gave up.  We didn’t have the money to buy the “right” clothes (it was all about the Guess jeans at that time) and I didn’t want to start drinking or doing drugs to fit in either. 

I was horribly shy and so meeting new people was challenging.  I kept to myself which probably came across as aloof or stuck up- when really I was just lonely and desperate for friends. 

Eventually (junior year) I found my way to a good group of friends in high school – almost none of whom attended my school.  I had the typical crushes on boys who didn’t like me back – thought my world was going to end numerous times. 

I would not do my teenage years over again for any amount of money. 

I think the reason I like to hear about teenage drama now is because there is a level of perspective that comes with age.  I can sympathize with girls being mean to each other and boys not asking you to homecoming – because that wound is still scarred over inside my heart and I can tap into it easily.  But I also know that the teen years are incredibly hard.  I don’t believe they are the best years of your life – they are the time when you grow into who you really are. 

If you can survive your teen years, you can become who you were meant to be. 

Life is going to be full of drama – no matter what.  And there will be hard things that you feel like you will never be able to get through.  But you know what – you will.  You will get through one day at a time and then you will look back and marvel that you were ever able to. 

And the next year will bring new joys and new challenges – new relationships and new heartache.  That is just how life is.

And that is what makes it an adventure. 

So having a house full of teenagers and listening to them open up about their struggles and joys is one of the best parts of my life right now.  I will be sad when it ends.

Why don't you write a book?

Funny, I get that a lot – and have for years.  I take it as a huge compliment and definitely appreciate the sentiment – but it makes me laugh because I seriously have no idea what I would write a book about.

I really just have random little bits to say.  I write whatever is swimming around in my head…and then I move on….and I have no idea how that can be a book.

I took a fiction class this past winter and it was so fascinating to me to hang out with a bunch of writers who really knew what they wanted to say.  We had to write a short story or chapter for everyone to workshop and everyone talked about the story that they had in their head.  One girl even said she had so many ideas – that if she ever wrote them down the book would be volumes long. 

And I just sat there and laughed…because I was perfectly comfortable with my short story.  I would have no idea how to write a book….even the dreams I dream at night start off fantastically and then kind of peter out….like I don’t even know where I want to take it in my subconscious.

I have random short stories, vignettes and diatribes in my head I could put on paper.  But who would buy that?  I think in order to write a book you have to have something to say or contribute to the world - some organizing principle to hang it all together.

Now up until this point in my life, I haven’t figured out what that would be.  But I am not ruling it out.  Perhaps someday I will figure it out.  But for now,  I like to play with little short things.  So thanks again for the words of kindness.  If I ever figure out what my book is going to be about, I promise to let you know!

I used to think...

Writing prompt of the day: I used to think____

I used to think that good things happened to good people.  That is how all of my favorite movies ended.  Even if the protagonist went through hard times…it always worked out in the end.  The things that seemed bad either were magically fixed or ended up being really good things.  If you were a good person, you had a good outcome and if you were the villain or a bad person – it all came back around to you in the end.

But life doesn’t really work out that way, much to my disappointment.  And we are not guaranteed that life will turn out okay.  Being a good person doesn’t mean that you will not struggle – financially, relationally, physically.  As a matter of fact, the Bible tells us that we in fact WILL have trouble.  The world is full of brokenness and that all we are guaranteed is that we will experience that brokenness while we are here.

I am not a huge fan of this.  I like the movie version better.  When scrawny kids can karate chop the bully and all is right with the world.  When an entire village donates money to save your business right before the police show up to take it all away.  When you are walking dejectedly down the road heartbroken and your best friend/love of your life runs up and sweeps you off your feet.

That is a much easier thing for me to handle.  I can hang in there indefinitely if I think the happy ending is right around the corner.  The harder part comes in when it is not necessarily ever going to be there.

Living in the reality of this world can seriously bum me out if I let it.  But as hokey as it sounds, cultivating gratefulness really does help.  Who knew Oprah could be right about the stupid Gratitude journal? 

Somehow it is hard to be depressed about your life when you are cataloguing the things that bring you joy.

The sunny, warm day

The gorgeous fall leaves

Hot coffee on a cool morning

Teenage girl giggly drama

Hugs from friends just because

Movie Night with a good bottle of wine

These are just a few things from this past weekend that I am grateful for…the full list doesn’t even begin to fit.

So although life doesn’t turn out the way you think it will, or hope it will or wanted it to….does that really matter?  Yes it hurts and it is hard…but there is so much to be grateful for…it seems wise to focus on those things rather than on what is hard or difficult or unfair.

At least that is what I am choosing to do today.  Remind me again tomorrow.

We are not trying to be mean, we just don't want you to be yourself

I heard this quote on the radio this morning.  It is from that new show with Zooey Deschanel called New Girl (which is very funny).  And it struck a chord with me. 

Not many people would say it this way, but I think they are thinking this deep inside.  Often in an attempt to be “helpful” – people try to change others into what they want them to be.  If you would just dress differently, act differently, talk differently…show up in the world just a little differently – then I would be much more comfortable with you.

Don’t get me wrong – I think we all have things to work on and ways to grow – and many times a word from a friend can push us along the path of growth.  But sometimes it is just nice to be able to be yourself and have people love you anyway – not trying to change you into something else. 

We spend way too much time trying to quell the voices in our heads telling us we need to be just like some celebrity or magazine model or popular friend.  Do we really need affirmation that we need to be different rather than just friends accepting us and loving us for who we are?

Am I wrong here?  Feel free to tell me your thoughts on this….am I the only one who feels this way?

Competition.

The American dream somehow glorifies competition.  We should all be trying to be the best, the smartest, the richest, the most beautiful.

But competition is my enemy.  I get sucked into way too easily and I think most people do.  The trick is how you handle it.

It is way too easy to start comparing myself to everyone else.  “They” have more money, more opportunity, more friends, more fun….more everything.  And then I want to try to compete and there is just no way I possibly can.

The problem with comparing myself to everyone else is that I will never measure up.  Because the voices in my head lie.  They play the victim…poor me…I don’t have any money.  I am not pretty enough, young enough, fun enough.  Poor me….no one loves me…pretty soon I am Eeyore throwing my own pity party in my head.

This weekend has been a lesson on many levels in competition.  It always seems to be that way, doesn’t it?  When it rains…it pours.

But I refuse to allow myself to play the competition game and throw the resulting pity party.  Because it is a futile effort.   I know that happiness and fulfillment don’t come from the things that the world tells me I need to have (material or otherwise).  And when I am not so busy looking at the things I don’t have – I am very happy.  It is the window shopping that gets me into trouble. 

So maybe I will stay away from the temptation to browse around the things I don’t have and more wisely invest in the things I do have. 

Just a thought…