Surviving September

I survived September 2018. That is really the only way to put it. The whole darn month felt like an onslaught of responsibilities I could barely keep straight, much less manage. See actual video footage of my month here. I might be the only one, but for me parenting in Survival Mode feels a lot like it might feel to be a contestant for Miss America:

• You have this big checklist (= life) 
• It must be accomplished in front of an audience and judges (=children/neighbors/friends/grocery store checkout people, teachers), 
• The stakes feel ridiculously high (= if I don't get this right my children will fail in life, or die, or heaven forbid forget to wear underwear beneath her skirt at school!), 
• You are tense, on edge and desperately hoping to win (= you had FOUR kids because you thought you could handle it, RIGHT?! Now show the world YOU. GOT. THIS.)
• Yet, to the outside you must appear as freaking calm and put together as possible. Lest folks catch on to the reality which is your desperate internal chaos and vote you off the island. (Wait, what, they don't host the Miss America competition on an island anymore? Or, ever? Huh. Well, whatever, you get the point.)

My prayer during September, like a good Perfectionist in recovery, was "just get me through today." Then in the midst of prayer I would list for God (and myself) all the things I needed to get done to make the day some version of a win. The list was consistently the same day after day, but nevertheless, each day was marked with a certainty that I was missing something from the list. All month long I had this fear that I would forget something, drop the proverbial ball, make someone mad, or was just one wrong step away from being tossed head first off the hamster wheel. Lemmetellyou, it is an awful feeling to consistently live like you might misstep at any time.*

Possibly one trillion times during September I said to myself, muttered to God, or complained to a friend: "It just shouldn't be this hard. Should it?" My self said back to me, "Buck up. No one promised life would be a cake walk." From heaven I felt this gentle reminder that rest is possible even during the busiest, hardest times. And my friends, oh my delightful friends never failed to tell me that even in the drudges of Hard I was "amazing." (You can borrow my friends if you need. They are awesome and I am not stingy.) All this to say, in order to make it to Oct. 1, I pretty much utilized a messy combination of asking for help, ego, grit, with a sprinkling of mindfulness, spiritual rest and a boatload of unwarranted grace.

Then this week, on the last day of September, a new strategy landed in my lap. Literally. In the form of a book on my lap. I had a few minutes (in the bathroom, obvi. TMI? Maybe, but when else does a SAHM of 4 have time to herself to pick up a book? Exactly.) Anyhow, I was thumbing through Gift from the Sea, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh** when I came across her arguably prophetic line, a line I have read fifty times already, but saw it again afresh,

"...today more of us in America than anywhere else in the world have the luxury of choice between simplicity and complication of life." (p. 27). 

She penned this line in 1955. True then, even truer now. Who knew that within 50 years of initial publication of her book we would be able to search the internet, check our email, FaceTime AND watch TV all at the same time, possibly while dancing an Irish jig in pigtails? I mean, if things were complicated in 1955, what the heck would Anne have to say about my life in 2018? Is "complicated" even the right word anymore?

Her words sliced deep, as conviction caught me off guard. One thought flooded forth,

This busy life is a life I have chosen. This To-Do list I slave for, it is of my own doing. 

And instead of shame poking me in the ribs over this revelation regarding the September "I almost didn't survive", I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the power of choice I have been given. I found myself utterly humbled by the "luxury" that is my life of "complication." Because what gift it is to be able to say, I have chosen this busy schedule, I have had crafted this rat race routine, I have manufactured a life of relative mania. 

It is gift to realize, my life isn't so much out-of-control circumstances, or the doing of other people. In terms of chaos, this life is pretty much all me. To remember this is to take a knee in thanksgiving. If we aren't shocked and awed by the gift of free will when we have been given it, then we will be utterly paralyzed when confronted with situations that are out of our circle of control.

Reading Anne's sentence I felt a bit giddy. Because guess what? If I have the power to schedule it, I have the power to undo it. I have within my capacity the option of scaling back, simplifying and sacrificing wants. All while my basic needs are met without question. What is this charmed life? Who am I to be so free?

So I grabbed a pen and did this thing. Call it an experiment if you will, but I listed out every single thing I routinely do throughout the week, and next to the list made two columns: 

Column 1: Have-To

Column 2: Want- To. 

Then I went through my list of "duties" and checked off which column each To-Do belonged in. Just under half of my responsibilities fell under the Want-To side of things. Maybe sit with that a sec, because I still need a moment with it. 

Nearly 1/2 half of my daily To-Do's are things I am CHOOSING to do in my life. Simply because they bring me joy or I believe myself, my family or the larger world is better for them. Or, on the flip side, some of them I am doing just because I said "yes" or rather, didn't want to say the "no." Either way, they are things I, without coercion, committed to in some way, shape or form.

I am embarrassed to say I spent a whole month not giving thanks for this reality. Instead, I spent the month grouchy and looking for someone to hold accountable for my struggle. See, when Husband is gone and my family is an ocean a way, I desperately desire someone to blame. Someone to throw rocks at for the sad state of stressful September affairs my life is. 

But lists don't lie, and the only one to "blame" is me. 

Ugh. That is too pessimistic.

Let's try it another way: 

The only one to congratulate for the chaotic busyness of my life, is ME.

This life is what I have chosen to create with the gifts I’ve been given. 

I repeat, my busy isn't something I am going to beat myself up over, this is something to give thanks for. Because the blessing within is twofold. One, I have the luxury of choice. I have ample resources for stuffed-full living. Nannies, housekeepers, microwave ovens, grocery delivery services, Amazon, running vehicles, access to gasoline, funds for sports, dance studios, health clubs, hair salons, continue ad nauseum. All of these things are good things I have at my fingertips. Things that allow me to be busier. (Because who of us stops at McDonalds at 7pm because we needed time for more rest. NONE. We reheat dinner in the microwave then eat standing up or hit the drive through so we can be more productive, more busy, more To-Do-y.) These are things most of the world has no access too, much less clean water. Second, I have the privilege of saying when my enough is enough. If it isn't a Have-To, it does NOT need to be on my list. 

I realized the moment I make my Want-To's, Have-To's is the moment I lose my power. 

It is the moment I become a slave to my schedule. 

And in that moment I am no different than a caged hamster on her wheel. 

Round and round and round and round and round I go... 

Until the wheel tosses me off because I am too tired to take another step. 

Evidence suggests it is always, always, always best to 

jump off the wheel via our own free will. 

Always.

I can't say what your list looks like. But I am guessing, if you were to be honest with yourself, a bunch on that list falls under Want-To.  Or maybe a better column would be, "I used to think I wanted to." If that is the case it is never too late to uncommit yourself to that which you can no longer do. Or want to do. Sure, some commitments we certainly have to see to the end. Personal integrity or a contract demands it. But that extra harmonica lesson little Hermione begged for on Saturday at 8:30am? Maybe that can go. Or maybe not. Either way, the choice is YOURS. Remember it. Then revel in it.

On that last day of September as I sat with my list before me, and even now as I look it over a few days later, I am struck with an odd sense of joy. A joy I didn't feel two weeks ago. A joy that refreshes. In the car driving to another practice, picking up another dirty sock, or stirring together a loaf of banana bread at 9pm because you promised Crazel she could have some for breakfast and you forgot- that stuff doesn't necessarily feel joyful. No. And I don't think it has to. But, what absolutely needs to inspire joy in us are all the reasons why we do the Want-To's on our list. 

I think my joy in the list came as I realized that every Why behind each Want-To's on my list brings me joy.  Joy happens when we think on joy! It is so simple and so hard. Joy multiplied when I realized all my Want-To’s are ultimately motivated by love. So really, I could absolutely change the name of my Want-To list to "Because I love you" list. Sports, dance, driving them to school, PTA, church, 9pm banana bread, Bible Study, Face Time calls, back scratches and books read aloud much past bedtime, these are things I don't always want to do, but do because I believe someone I desire to love well, myself included, benefits. 

Here is the kicker though, if I can no longer do the Want To's lovingly; if I have a bad attitude every time I do them, it means they have to go. Or something else has to give. If I cannot do a loving thing in a consistently loving way, it is not love. It is probably pride. Please hear this, a To-Do list seeped in pride will kill you. Literally. 

The first thing I forget in my busy, is my Why's. I don't know the reason for this. But I suspect, at its core it is a sneaky move, by an unseen, deceitful force to eradicate love. As I type this, some old verses from the youthful depths of my memory bank arise, 

"If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love."                                                                                                                      1Corinthians 13:1-7

The above is The Message translation. Mine would read, "If I give everything I have to my children, my time, my youth, my gasoline, my money, my wisdom, my correction, my snuggles, my abs, my milk, my dinners, my energy, my faith, but I don't love, I am a hamster on a wheel. Not because they won't be better for it, but because I will be empty, miserable and exhausted.” 

Kind of like my September. 

But it is October now. And the first day of October was a Monday and I always feel as if that is a good omen. Mostly because I believe Monday's should be the first day of the week, but perhaps this isn't that soapbox. So I digress. October- a new month to embrace the places love asks me to go to, to do the things love encourages me to do, and to rest in the truth that I am fully loved as I go and do love. A new month to officially rename the To-Do list. How about, A Go-Do Love list? 

Kind of catchy, don’t you think?

Praying the same October for you.

footnotes are my favorite

*This is a perfect example of how self-awareness can be a bad thing. 

** I keep Gift from the Sea right next to my copy of Help, Thanks, Wow by Ann Lammot and Ann Voskamps One Thousand Gifts. (Sweet Moses! I JUST realized now the three go-to books for my 30's are all books by Ann/e's! What the what is that supposed to mean?!??!?!?) These three books, next to the Bible, continue to be my holy grail of faithful adulting. If you haven't read them, stop what you are doing and Amazon the hard copies right to your front door. Like, yesterday already.