Phrases and Conclusions

Yesterday, I mentioned that one of my personal favorite phrases is this: It is what it is.

Some others don't like it. I've run into an inordinate amount of people with not only an "eh, it's not for me" attitude, but an utter deep-seeded hatred for the phrase.

These people tend to also hate the phrase, "Agree to disagree." But I really like this one, as well.

To me, these phrases are reminders that I have limited control over the world around me and that accepting the things I can't change makes for a smoother life.

For a long time, much longer than I'd like to admit and certainly much longer than was good for me, I believed that acceptance was an odd combination of conceding, giving up, and acknowledging value. I don't believe that anymore, though I'm not sure how to explain what I do believe because in some ways there is an underlying notion that conceding, giving up, and acknowledging value is exactly what I do when I accept something.

But it's different, somehow.

Now, it's more like a concession that the person I'm engaged with in the moment is more important than making sure they know I'm right. It's like giving up on the idea that I have any power over anyone or anything other than myself, and it's an acknowledgement that value is inherent in so many things regardless of whether I agree with an idea.

In reality, it's not always that easy, particularly when it comes to people who are in my daily life, whose lives are intertwined with my own and whose beliefs (and therefore actions) affect me. But I've been learning that setting a personal boundary is different than rejecting a person, just as accepting a person doesn't mean that I have to agree with them.

It really is okay to agree to disagree. It doesn't mean that both beliefs are equally right (although they could be). It just means that both people are equally valuable, and that sometimes (oftentimes) the value of a human is more pressing than ensuring that we're all on the same page with belief.

I think the problem with disagreements come in when we start vilifying those who have a different take on the world - be it politics, religion, lifestyle choices. Regardless of the differences, there's still the basic fact that most people come to their beliefs from an authentic place. Most people believe something to be important and find their own conclusions stemming from this belief. Sometimes, people with vastly different logistics actually believe the same underlying principles.

Quick example: Billy and I have different conclusions about the limits and extensions of free speech. But we both come from a place of inclusivity and valuing the individual.

Oh, well. What can I say, we're each a work in progress.

Now that's a phrase I do actually hate.

Ready for Bed

This whole journaling thing is still a chore. I remember a time when journaling was my life saver. I was eager to get to the computer lab on campus and type and type and type until there was nothing floating around my head. I can't remember what I wrote about, but I suppose there was a lot going on in my head, if not in my day-to-day. Well, I know there wasn't much in my day-to-day.

The fact is that when I was in college, it was the chillest time in my life. I was busier when I was in high school because the public school system hasn't figured out how to be efficient. I went to school like we all did 7:35-2:40. Band practice was 3:15-5:15 Monday through Thursday. Friday nights were football games and pizza at Mazzio's. Saturdays were contests with 6am start time and midnight returns. Sunday we went to church or occasionally slept in. Monday we started all over again.

I'm exhausted just hearing that.

Today was also exhausting. Not a bad exhausting, just one that is. It is what it is. (Am I the only one that likes this saying? It kind of grounds me. It's a preface to the serenity prayer, which is more helpful than I expected it to be considering how cheesy it also is.)

There are days when I feel alone. Not many people understand the plight of the special needs mom. People don't understand the hours of research and phone calls and driving we do. It's not the typical experience for most people, and I don't expect people to understand, but dang... it would be nice.

Today I didn't feel so alone. In fact, I felt very supported. But I also am tired. I had a 4-hour meeting at ABA about Brian's program, his progress, his deficits. I felt supported that other people see his strengths, but also acknowledge that he's a hard case. By the time we hit the grocery store for fruit and oatmeal and made it home, I was spent. But I couldn't be. I still had work to do. And I opened my computer up to a very nice surprise, honestly.

One of the things I've been working on is a packet for a subsidy increase request. The paralegal in me (at the advice of an attorney) has been dedicating time to detail and thoroughness, and I have felt that it was in vain more than a few times. But today, Brian's doctor sent me a requested letter stating in no uncertain terms that Brian's continued struggles were evident prior to our adoption and that he clearly needs therapeutic levels of intervention. This is a big deal because it can be hard to find a doctor that is willing to put their name on the line to make such definitive statements. But our doctor did it, and it helped me feel supported.

And then I worked. My work is fulfilling. I do a lot of research and writing in my job, and today was no different. It can be tedious. Sometimes the rewards don't come until hours of pouring over medical records, academic studies, and court opinions. Today I read medical reports and summarized them. And I am tired.

But I also had some alone time with Brian and enjoyed watching a show about ... dog shelter makeovers. (what!?!?) It was cute, if not incredibly campy.

So, all in all, it was ... a day. A supported day, a full day, yet ultimately a tiring day.

And so it is... here's to hoping that tomorrow will have the support and the fulfillment. I already know it will be tiring.

The "Always Something" Provides a Day with a Friend

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to take Ashlyn and a friend to the waterpark down the street from us. It's been a really fun experience to have that so close because (1) Eve works there and can bike to work and (2) we have a membership that allows us to go whenever we want for one low price! That actually is true, even though it also sounds like an advertisement. The park is pretty expensive for a day pass ($50/person). We would absolutely never go if we had to pay. It's just not worth it to pay that much money and then have to stay there all day in order to feel like we got our money's worth. Our lives just don't allow for day-long plans. We are such a play-it-by-ear family, much to my chagrin.

This is life parenting a child with special needs. There is always something. Some emotions to have. Some illness to work around. Some irritability to manage. Some ability limitations. Some kind of "I don't think he can handle that" or "I'm just too tired" to interrupt the plans that we might otherwise make.

And it's hard.

But I'm a parent. I signed up. No, I didn't understand the depths of harm that early trauma and lack of bonding can bring. I went in eye mostly squinted shut. I tried to learn about it. I tried to open my eyes. Yet despite the hours of classes, the countless books, the adoption conferences, the conversations with other moms, the Google searches, I just didn't understand what our child's past would mean for the future of our family. But that is another post.

This is one about my other child. The one who can do homework on her own, who can go to after school activities without running away or having a meltdown, who can maintain relationships.

She can do all these things on her own, and I'm so proud of her. But because she is more able, she gets the short end. She doesn't get the time in the car on the way to the after school activities because there's a tae kwon do place down the street from her school, and she can get herself there. Sure, she'd rather play soccer, but I have to drive her brother to therapy. So, her desires give way to her brother's needs.

Over and over and over.

Her time at a friend's house gets cut short because my schedule is packed with appointments and I know I'll be too tired to pick her up later. Her activity choices are limited because it has to be close enough that she can get there, either on her own or on the way to one of those appointments. Time we find to support her during her math homework is interrupted by her brother's urgent statements about rocks and insistence that someone look up how much a shark tooth necklace costs and crying when he is told "later."

But yesterday was different. Because of pool water or dirty hands or both in combination, Brian had an ear infections this week and was instructed to stay out of pools for the duration. Did it change our plans? Of course, because our plans always change. One adult had to stay home with Brian.

But on the other hand, Ashlyn got to take a friend and spend significantly more time at the park than she would have. And while it's a bummer that we couldn't all go as a family and that Brian and Billy had to miss it, I think for the day, Ashlyn felt like a normal kid in a normal situation that just allowed her to enjoy her uninterrupted time with her friend.

A Look on the Bright Side When Things Feel Really Dark

I have run into a couple of Facebook posts recently that have both encouraged and challenged me. One friend had her birthday this week and asked that her friend post three things of joy in our lives. Another shared some blessings that resulted from a battle with cancer. They both brought up an interesting response within me.

On the one hand, I started to move on because that's not usually my thing. There have been times in my life where I've intentionally focused on things I'm grateful for, and it often felt fake. I'm prone to pessimism, try as I might to be positive. Attempting to conjure up a list daily of things that I'm thankful for was an intellectual exercise, but rarely an emotional encouragement. Not that my feelings are the true measure of my joy. They aren't. But my point is that in the past it's felt contrived to me. And let's be honest... there's just that part of me that still romanticizes melancholy, a phenomenon which I attribute to my liberal arts education.

On a different hand, I know the value of doing things that I don't feel like doing and the actual (if not temporary) benefits of the old cliche "Fake it til you make it." In truth, there are times when a forced change in perspective is exactly what the prescription should be. 

So, in true rebel-bandwagon fashion, I'm going to discuss something I'm grateful for precisely because of the suffering they bring to my life.

Broken A/C

Yes, you read that right. I'm talking no cool air and 90 degree heat. And I'm truly actually legitimately grateful because it gave me the kick in the pants to change my perspective -- to accept the things I cannot change.

When my mom was pregnant with my brother, some Jehovah's Witnesses* came to the door and asked her to tell them something she was thankful for. She replied that she was really grateful for air conditioning, a response to which they seemed disappointed. Perhaps they were looking for the cliche answers of family, friends, and provision of needs. But my mom, being the thoughtful and intentional person that she often was, evaluated her life, considered her current sufferings and gave an actual answer, instead of a trope.

This week, I find myself thankful for air conditioning from a different perspective. Ours broke Monday evening. Yesterday, a tech came out and informed us that the part they needed was on back order and it could be 3 or 4 days before they could fix it. They contacted us last night to say they can come back on Thursday.

In the meantime, we've been attempting to have a good attitude and count our blessings. Last night, I shared with Brian how grateful I am for my job and budgeting skills because we were able to go out and purchase fans at a moment's notice, and not everyone can do this.

Last night, I had my own little hatha yoga studio as I did my ab workout. I never would have done that if my air conditioning were on. But it was ok.

I'm also grateful right now to live in California because, even though we pay through the nose for rent, we also have cool evenings that last well beyond sunrise. So, the heat isn't what it could be for a good part of the day. I'm sitting now in my kitchen quite comfortable with no fan and no air. This would not have happened in Indiana or Alabama. But it happens here.

*They might have been Mormons.

For the Love of Ice Cream

I'm posting because I want ice cream. A big one that overflows the cup and starts to melt before you can spoon it all up and rein it in. Because it's hot outside, after all.  But it's not so hot that the ice cream isn't refreshing enough to make the outdoor dining with its tax-free implications worthwhile.

Did you know that if you take Coldstone to go in California, it's tax free? It is. So, always take it to go. It's way too loud inside anyways. There's the humming of the freezers over the ricochet of voices off the hard floors in the crowded entryway that you squeeze through to get out. But the outside, here at least, is beautiful because this is California.

And by now, it's time to tell you all what in the world my blog has to do with ice cream. Essentially, I'm a child. I'm someone with little internal motivation, low energy, a lack of passion. So, I need a behavior chart. It keeps me on track for things like healthy eating and healthy emotional habits.

It's accessible here for everyone that has a life goal of emulating me. All... none of you?

Regardless, my family is full of diabetics. (No offense, family, but you are.) Thus far, I'm the only one without a diagnosis, which was quite the shocker and quite the ... ahem... external motivation to kick myself into gear a little bit. Out with the sugar. In with the intermittent fasting.

So, if you take a look at that little behavior chart I've made myself, you'll see that journaling for 15 minutes a day is a goal. It's a bonus point that will allow me to attain the mammoth size ice cream once a week, since I'm eating no other refined sugars through the rest of the week. One week, I hope to find myself not even wanting the ice cream, but it hasn't happened in the 3 weeks that I've been working the plan so far. In fact, that creamy sugar goodness is about all that's keeping me going on many days.

But the reward of ice cream isn't the only reward, if I'm honest. (Yes, it's the best one, but not the only one.) There's also the strength that I'm feeling restored as I work out daily. There's the better fitting pants that I have yet to enjoy since I just bought them, having made the mistake of heading to Kohl's first thing one morning about 5 weeks ago.

(Note to self and all other wise women: eat a full day's worth of food before trying on pants. You will live to regret it if you don't.)

There's the feeling of accomplishment as I check off some long-lingering projects both in my personal life and my professional obligations. There's also the peace of mind that comes with mindfulness and scriptural meditation each morning.

But what I haven't had much success with yet, and the thing that has kept me from that Gotta Have It Blueberry Batter with Golden Oreos, has been this assignment from my counselor to journal. Introspection hasn't been my thing lately because there are some heavy things going down around me, and sometimes, it's too much to dig in and really investigate what's underneath my feelings. It just seems like a weight I'd rather not bear. Sometimes, I think it's healthy enough to just try to make it through the day (relatively) unscathed. But it's never quite sustainable. We can only ignore these things for so long.

I've tried to journal, but I've found myself blocked, so I'm opening up this blog. For today. Maybe again tomorrow. Maybe the next day, and maybe it will be a habit for a year. Or maybe after a couple of more superficial posts, I'll be ready to face whatever it is that makes it hard to breathe, and I'll revert back to a private journal because I'm ready to really deal with it all.

Either way, I've earned another checkmark, and I'm that much closer to heaven on Earth.

Love Hurts

Sometimes
It would be easier to think you  never loved me.
To call it a hope, unfulfilled.
A dream, undiscovered.
To say it was a charade that fooled us all -
Even you.
But it's harder than that
Because you love me still.

You love me
With more love than you could ever conjure before.
And it hurts.

It hurts you.
When you give more than you knew you could,
And still I ask,
"Where's mine?"
And so you give again until there's nothing left except a stump to sit on.
And like any tree without its green, you decay.
Your roots crumble.
The ground collapses secretly beneath the rain-packed earth
Until a step -
A single misplaced (perfectly placed?) step.
A gentle step? A lumbering step?
It doesn't matter the step because it is the flooding years that have eroded your resolve.
The surface needs only a rift and then it falls.
And it hurts you.

It hurts you
When you watch me flail and fail
And be human.
To be a selfish human who uses you for my own gain.
To be a selfless human who - try as I may - can never save you.
Can never make you forget your pains and broken limbs.
Can never be the rock in your crashing waves.
Can never quite be satisfied in who you were or who you are or who you're becoming.
So, it hurts you.

It hurts you, and it hurts me.
Oh! How it hurts me.
To see this love be the greatest I will receive
With the best of intentions and the evilest of outcomes
That you will always want to blame on me.
Because it hurts you.

Why Choice isn't a Cop-out

There are some people who will think this is a post aimed specifically toward them.  For those people, I humbly suggest this video. Fact is that this post isn't for anyone, but me, really... as my entire blog always is. If it's interesting to someone else, or causes a reader to think about things in a new way... awesome. But ultimately, this is me talking about my thoughts and my experiences, and my beliefs.

Now that this is out of the way, let me proceed.  As any acquaintance of mine knows, I'm rarely happy to stick to the surface of anything.  Call me inquisitive, curious, contemplating, a tortured soul.  They're all accurate.

Today, and for a few weeks now I've been investigating belief and choices.  I've come at this from a few different angles, one of which is in whether or not we can choose what we believe.

I'm a big proponent in general of choice and free agency in life.  While I realize that very few things in this world are black/white and that a person's choices will always be affected by their experience, I also believe that we are free to make choices outside of what our feelings and experiences tell us is comfortable.

But today, as I said, I'm thinking specifically about choosing what we believe.  As in, refusing to be victims of our culture, our circumstances, and our limited experience when determining those ideas that become central to who we are. Some people think choosing our belief is a cop-out, that we have to talk ourselves into something that doesn't make sense. I say that our lives are too multi-faceted to rule out the need for cognizant choice in basically every part of our existence.

Let me give a scaled-back example of what I'm thinking about.

Mind Set Matters

When Billy and I were first married, he got a job waiting tables at a fancy Italian restaurant. This position required that he carry around a significant amount of paraphernalia in his pockets, among which were a table crumber, a wine screw, a nice pen, and a change purse. He came home late each night, often after closing down the restaurant, and unloaded his pockets in the living room.  I woke each morning and moved the pile to the desk next to his sleeping face.

After several days of this silent back and forth, I told him how frustrating it was that he left his stuff everywhere without considering who was going to have to clean it up.

He replied by telling me that he had been emptying his pockets on the end table every night so that he would have a consistent place to put his things without having to wake me up each night clanking around in the dark. He knew that I was lacking sleep, having a newborn to tend to, and he very considerately made his noise outside of my earshot.

I felt like a loser. I had chosen to believe my husband of a year was acting out of careless self interest, and I allowed resentment to grow. Had I taken a little more initiative to consider other interpretations of his actions, perhaps even to assume the best out of him, I still might have talked to him about the situation, but the frustration I harbored would not have had the grip on me that it did.

The mindset we use when faced with an experience matters in what we believe about the situation.  And we get to choose that mindset.

Further, this choice of belief is almost always based on a faith in something.

Faith is everywhere

As a Christian, it can be hard to discuss what exactly my belief system is, since it isn't a religion in the typical sense. A religion tends to have a set of tenets and rituals (or behaviors) that must be done (or avoided) in order to adhere to the religion.  Christianity has the set of belief tenets, but there are no required rituals and behaviors.  So, I tend to veer away from the term religion.

But when people use the term "spiritual," it is understood to be short-hand to designate people who believe in the spiritual nature of humanity, yet do not believe in any one system of belief to be correct. So, even though I personally resonate most with the word, I veer away from the term "spiritual" because of the cultural assumptions linked to it.

Another common way to speak about people in my situation is to speak about the importance of their faith.  Again, this is meaningful to me, and I have no personal problem with saying that my faith is important to me.  However, I take issue with the concept of some people being "people of faith" as a way to name people who have a particular belief in the presence of a god and a belief in who or what that god is.

The reason that this bothers me is that nearly everyone is a person of faith.  Anyone in a relationship practices their faith when they trust their SO to go out and not cheat on them.  We can counter that the SO must have proven themselves to be trustworthy, but this doesn't negate the fact that we still put faith in them based on their past actions.

After all, faith need not be baseless and irrational.

We have faith in a chair that has held us up in the past to hold us up again.  And so, we sit.  We have evidence that it will support our weight based on our experience and our understanding of how a chair was been manufactured.  But we must somewhere also realize that it's impossible for us to have full information about whether that chair has suffered any damage between the last time we sat on it.

These daily life examples are minor, but only go to introduce the concept that what we believe about the spiritual world or lack of is also based on faith.  Many an atheist base their unbelief in faith that humans can attain a thorough understanding of the world.  Every atheist that I've discussed spiritual things with has used science (i.e. observation and interpretation of empirical evidence) as a major reason they don't believe in God. However, there's no empirical evidence that sensory observation and human interpretation of empirical evidence is the best way to determine if there is a God. So, they are putting their faith in human understanding via science as the determining factor of what is believable.

Science-as-ultimate-explanation advocates also put their faith in science as a tool* to eventually figure out what happened at the origins of the universe.  Science has not yet allowed us to observe the universe's beginning.  It hasn't allowed us to observe whether carbon has always had a consistent half life, and it hasn't allowed us to observe life coming from non-life**.  Yet many people put their faith in science as the best way to understand the totality of existence.

Each belief system has its gaps and its evidence

Of course, science (and its close counterpart math) haven't truly allowed us to observe the grandeur and scope of the universe.  They are often only used to estimate.  These estimations are then used to justify near impossibilities by relying on what Richard Dawkins calls the "magic of large numbers." Given enough time, any statistical impossibility will become possible. And so, we end up with estimations of how many planets there are in order to allow for the presumed evolution of life on some of them. And we end up with an age of the universe based on human calculations, the assumption of consistency, and the question of how long it would have taken for the statistically impossible events to finally happen.  And now, just as theists might choose to hide behind the god of the gaps by claiming anything we don't understand can be explained by the idea that God is beyond our understanding, atheists also choose to hide behind the magic of large numbers.

Likewise, most actual belief systems have evidence, as well. Scientists carefully conduct experiments to see if their hypotheses are on the right track. A result will either confirm an idea or take the scientist back to the drawing board looking for a new explanation that fits their sensory observation, set of assumptions, and human understanding.  Often, there are explanations that fit. Often, there are explanations that cause scientists to stretch what they previously believed.  People with a spiritual creed also have evidence.  It is based on science***, as well as reason.  For example, we use reason to say that scientists are able to use the assumption of consistency (i.e. a ball dropped on earth will always fall to the ground) because there is something as yet unmeasured that brings consistency into nature.  If nature is consistent, this is evidence that there is something bigger than nature putting that limitation on nature.  Similarly, we see that humanity has a general desire for love and justice. Since "people of faith"/spiritual people don't start with the assumptions of science, we can open our minds to the possibility that the desire for love and justice come from somewhere outside of humanity.

Everyone is agnostic

Going back to Richard Dawkins... He put out a pretty helpful little system of identifying where we fall on the continuum of theist to atheist.  Dawkins himself is not an atheist, but rather what he calls a "de facto atheist," which he defines as not knowing for sure, but thinking God is improbable and living under the assumption that God doesn't exist. 

I, on the other hand, fall anywhere from de facto theist to just above a weak atheist, depending on the day's circumstances, including whether I've been able to meet my physical needs, whether I've felt emotionally or intellectually threatened, and whether it's raining. I found the quotes below the chart to be helpful and relate to all of them from Jesus down through Thomas Jefferson.

So, how is it that I can fall on such a large part of the spectrum, including "pure agnostic" and "weak atheist" yet still call myself a Christian and have that belief system affect so deeply my life? 

It's because of choice. I have looked at evidence and reasoned that I need not limit my interpretation of the evidence to nature. When I start to limit myself, I make the choice not to. I use my rationale and my free agent status to make a decision for myself rather than be a victim to my circumstances. 

Our choices have consequences

I've also weighed the consequences that the beliefs bring with them.  

There's no lasting negative consequence to me choosing to believe and living my life as a Christian. The worst that will be is that narrow-minded people will assume I hate the trans community and think women are less valuable than men, simply because of stereotyping. Those people have their own issues, and what they think of me is actually of very little consequence to me, as I find my worth in something higher than them, anyway. Perhaps my moral code will keep me from having sex with as many partners as someone else might, but I fortunately have found so much more purpose to life than collecting sex partners, that this seems more of a positive consequence than a negative one. However, the worst consequence of not believing is significantly deeper and potentially longer lasting. 

I often choose based on consequences.  I don't speed because accidents and tickets cost too much. I don't drink excessively because I have alcoholism in my family and that is some really serious stuff. So why wouldn't I put the real question of the mysteries of life up against the consequences of the answer?

Can't we all just be a little more generous?

Here's the thing. The TL;DR, if you will. 

There are some of us out there that will point fingers and make statements about who the logical people are or aren't.  If we want to be honest about it, we all come to our beliefs based on a combination of experience, faith, and choice. 

To pit people in one camp as the rational ones and people in the other camp as the blind faith ones is uncharitable. (I hear this division from people all along the theist/atheist spectrum.) To further insist that one side has all the evidence and there's no choice involved regarding what assumptions we start with, how we interpret evidence, and which belief we ultimately end up at is disingenuous.

*Science is a tool.  It is not a cause for anything or an explanation for anything.  This is a pet peeve of mine, as there's a meme going around that goes like this: "Why? Because... science!" It's a joke, of course, mocking that people actually try to use science as a reason for things being the way they are, when in reality, science is a tool that helps us understand nature and nothing else.

**It's important to read articles about science with a critical eye and not just read the headline. Many articles will claim a scientific discovery has been made only to explain that no such discovery has actually been made. In reality, it was only an experiment that was performed producing a result that was about 3,000 degrees removed from the claim in the headline.

***In my 38 years of knowing Christians and other people with a spiritual creed, I have only met 1 person that saw a problem with belief in God and science working together.  My experience has shown that people use science as a reason to not believe in God but that people do not use God as a reason to not study science. It's important to note that Christian science lovers will come to empirical evidence with a different assumption, which is namely that we do not believe that we must limit all explanations to those of an empirical nature. But Christians don't, in general, run away from science as if it were a threat to their faith.