Thankful for Mentors

One of the highlights of my year was attending the Women Writing the West conference in San Antonio, and one of the highlights of the conference was seeing Barbara Brannon. Not only is she an accomplished novelist, journalist, poet, and traveler, she was one of my first writing mentors.

Almost four years ago, I decided to try writing my Grandma’s stories. Writing fiction was brand new for me, and I was scared to share my attempts, but knew that I needed people to teach me the craft. Barbara and the other members of the Ad Hoc group were the most kind and thorough critics I could have imagined. Their feedback challenged and energized me month after month.

Every new venture requires mentors. We may be experts in some areas, but expertise is not transferable. 

Will you try anything new in 2020? Do you know anyone further down the road who might give you a hand? 

Our Advent Plans

I grew up in a religious tradition that didn’t follow or even acknowledge a liturgical calendar, so I was an adult before I realized that feasts, fasts, and holy days weren’t relegated to the Old Testament. 

Now Advent is my favorite time of the year. Our observance of it has evolved as we’ve had kids and as they’ve gotten older. We spend the forty days before Christmas recapping the story of God and his never-ending love for his creation, often using The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd Jones as an anchor. Last year we incorporated more of the Psalms and used longer passages from the NIV.

On each Sunday of Advent, we gather around our table for a special activity or project. Three years ago, I started organizing this time around a theme. This year we’ll focus on gifts and grace. We’ll begin with the idea that when God’s people were exiled (from the Garden, wandering in the dessert, in Babylon), they were always given a gift (clothes to wear, manna to eat, the promise of a Messiah). We’ll end with thoughts about the gifts we’ve been given and how we can use them to serve in God’s kingdom. 

Thankful for Boundaries

I met with a group who explained apologetically that the routines of their organization might be considered rigid. Apologetic, because they like to think of themselves as flexible.

I was out of town for three days last month and one day I got a text from my husband thanking me for the routine my kids have in the morning. They got dressed, came downstairs, my son cooked breakfast and they ate while reading Calvin and Hobbes. He marveled at how automatically they fell into the grooves of the morning routine without anyone hovering or nagging. 

We set a budget for our family at the beginning of each month. There is always a budget line for getting lunch with friends. Depending on the month, I might have a line for a weekend away, a concert, or a conference. 

I don’t have to spend mental energy on taking care of myself, because my body goes on autopilot, drinking a full glass of water as soon as I wake up, putting on my running shoes two days a week, and planning out our weekly meals on Sunday night.

The beauty of these boundaries is that they allow freedom. My trip out of town was less stressful, because I knew that everything at home could run without me. I indulge in things I enjoy, because there’s no guilt associated with the money I spend. When life throws a curve ball, I can face it head-on, because taking care of myself is built into the system. 

As I see it, boundaries allow a person or organization to bemore flexible.

What boundaries are you grateful for? Where might you find more freedom and flexibility in your life if you set more of them?

We are More, Not Less

I have a habit of saying that I “used to be smart.” It stems from insecurity and the remnants of letting my identity be defined by the work I do. It also comes from a fear that the further I get from earning my Ph.D., the longer it’s been since I engaged in scholarly (e.g. publishable) research, and every day that I’m out of the classroom, I become less. Less sharp, less expert, less relevant.

I recently traveled by myself. In the 45-minute wait at the airport (I like to get there early) and 2-hour flight, I completed several pages of my own edits, provided feedback and editing on a chapter for a fellow writer, and read four chapters of a nonfiction book. I felt smart.

Moms out there, you are still smart. And funny. And attractive. And whatever else you need to complete that sentence with. It’s hard to remember who we were before we were wiping other people’s noses and wearing unidentified stains on our clothes. We are still those women. We might need to step away for a minute in order to notice, but it’s true. In fact, we are more, not less, than we were before.

Who Cares About Life Balance?

I recently completed a Wheel of Life online and a series of related reflections in connection with a coaching webinar. The Wheel of Life is intended to give you a visual of your life balance. 

Ah, that holy grail. 

Here’s the plot twist. Life balance isn’t the goal. 

As I reflected on my color-coded image that resembles a deflated basketball, I wasn’t discouraged or disappointed. My Wheel of Life looks exactly like I’ve chosen for it to. My career, achievements and income are not full buckets right now. 

I walked away from a tenure-track teaching position. I am not meeting my earning potential. I won’t achieve raising honorable adults for several more years. 

But I’m playing a long game. I’ve chosen for my wheel to look deflated for now. The image is aligned with my core values which is why I’m not bitter or resentful of that I don’t have balance in my life. 

My goal is alignment, not balance.