Now; Until It Sticks To My Bones

"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.

Philippians 4:12

Paul was unto something here. Learning to be content.

Notice he doesn't say happy; being the fleeting emotion that it is, who could base their life around that?

He says content. Or satisfied.

To be in the present. To be satisfied with the present.

These are the things God's been whispering to me lately. And I thought I was a master at this!

To live life! To not miss a moment! To breathe in the air deep, avoiding life comas at all costs!

But the truth is, I haven't been good at this. Not the way He wants me to be.

Perfect example of this with 'future' projection: Costa Rica.

The very moment I get there, dirty backpacked strapped to my shoulders and college friends by my side, enraptured by all that is around me...the first words out of my mouth? I can't wait to come back here.

Something is extremely wrong with that.

Here I am, surrounded by the now, and I'm already planning for the future.

There is the problem. And that's where some of us stay our whole lives. And we miss it.
(Future projection also looks a lot like...waiting for the floor to fall out from underneath you and always expecting something bad to happen. I believe anxiety literally has that definition. Thank you to my dear friend, Stacy, who reminded me that I will miss all the beautiful now moments if I'm always worried about something like that)

Perfect example of this with 'past' projection: School Without Walls.
I just visited my old school last week.
I realized I have been living in the past there, still.
And I have not fully been in the present with my new kids.
While I am blessed to have had that opportunity and I miss those kids very much, that season is over.
And if I don't wake up and enjoy what's in front of me now, Ill miss it.

I think part of this revelation comes from the new season I am in. A late 20-something year old.

It's here that life slows down. Up until this moment it has been all big events.

You're 16.

You're at prom.

You graduate high school.

You pick a college.

You're swallowed up by 4-5 years of college life.

You turn 21.

And then it spits you out. Full of adrenaline. Left to your own devices and expectations.

And that's where reality sinks in.

...sure you have the big '25'.

But this is life.

Day in, day out.

And the 'big events' are over.

I spent a large portion of my life planning the next 'big event'. And they were all plenty happy to present themselves. It was all about the next adventure or trip or get together. But at some point you have to ask yourself...what about now? Because eventually, it doesn't satisfy. Or it gets exhausting. Or it's not realistic. And you are left alone in the room with.... the 'now'.

Because at some point, now is the most important thing.

And the next string of moments might only be hundreds of 'nows'.

And somewhere along the way I thought to myself, 

'If I can't be content in the seemingly mundane now, will I ever be happy?'

And honestly, I don't think I would be. Could be.

Because to really appreciate the moment when it's not super exciting is hard.

It's a skill.

Someone today taught me that in order to stop your mind, while in a moment, from wandering to the past or rolling off into the future (anxiety.) you have to pause and focus on the senses.

What am I smelling?

What am I tasting?

What am I seeing?

What am I hearing?

What am I feeling (tangible)?

Sure it sounds foolish. But when fully engaged in this activity, your mind doesn't have time to weigh itself down by where you've come from or worry you about what's going to happen. You can only focus on the birds singing outside, the smell of your sheets scented with laundry soap, the feeling of down comforters under your skin, etc.

And this skill I will practice until I die.

I will fight against the battle for my 'now'.

Recently, I have started to fall in love with my back yard garden. And birds.

My boyfriend took me on this secret trail where 8 birds fed out of my hand.

What an incredible moment. And I realized every bird has a different song.

Before, it all sounded the same. Like birds.

Now, (and with the help of my bird whisperer boyfriend and Barnes and Noble book) I am beginning to separate the myriad of sounds I hear from my porch into very specific songs each male bird is singing to the females.

And isn't that what everything is about?

Somehow taking a step back and separating the swirling, chaotic, blurry mix of thoughts and life out until it makes sense....or at least until you can taste it.

Although I haven't always been able to practice it, I've loved this concept all along. I am obsessed, intrigued, moved by inner worlds. Attention to detail. Separating the seemingly monotonous, uninteresting out into a stretch of detailed descriptions. That's why I love David Foster Wallace, the poem 'People', why I love looking inside people's brightly lit houses at night (creeper status?), why I love listening to conversations at Tap & Mallet and imagining their life. It all makes you stop, makes you listen, makes you think about their world.

All I know is that life is ready to freely hand you anxiety.

And this anxiety will choke the joy out of the now.

And I am holding tightly to my now; tasting, hearing, seeing, smelling, feeling....

Until it sticks to my bones.

The Word

by Tony Hoagland

Down near the bottom

of the crossed-out list

of things you have to do today,

between "green thread"

and "broccoli," you find

that you have penciled "sunlight."

Resting on the page, the word

is beautiful. It touches you

as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present

he had sent from someplace distant

as this morning—to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,

among your duties, pleasure

is a thing

that also needs accomplishing.

Do you remember?

that time and light are kinds

of love, and love

is no less practical

than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?

Tomorrow you may be utterly

without a clue,

but today you get a telegram

from the heart in exile,

proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,

the king and queen alive,

still speaking to their children,

—to any one among them

who can find the time

to sit out in the sun and listen.

 xoxo,

mp

Do You Know How That Feels?

Mr. Powell asked if he could keep my drawing. Do you know how that feels? 

(from Okay For Now by Gary D. Schmidt)

Yesterday I visited the school I spent the last two years of my life, heart, and skills in. I cried a lot. I smiled a lot.

My good friend and I met at said school two years ago. We also left the city at the same time the end of the year last year. So, she visited this weekend and we decided to make a visit and see the place that has felt like home for so long.

Before I could even enter the building, students were pouring out to greet me.
Quickly, I was the wave came; hug after hug. And just like that, it was like no time had past. Like slipping on your favorite pair of soccer shorts. This was my home. This was where being myself was the only way to be. This was where my idiosyncrasies could be useful and my passion came alive.

Students who were so special to me, those I had formed a bond with for two years were able to sit down and talk like no time had passed. Students I had driven home, given relationship advice to, students whose heads I held while they overdosed in my class, whose parents I had prayed with over their son's hospital bed, students I lectured, joked with, brought into my home for Spanish Food Day, made skits with, challenged to the point of anger, learned Spanish dances at Tango Dance Cafe with, and those I walked alongside in their fight for success. My kids.

And the weirdest part of it all, there were kids whose names I didn't even know, calling me by name and so excited to see me there again.

And then it started; sharing memories. We laughed about boogers of the day, of me going down the hall pushed on skateboards playing the guitar to get kids to class and to stop making out. But slowly, it became obvious...they remembered everything. And it meant more to them than I realized. They needed to know they were special. That I hadn't replaced them. And as they listed off all the ways they missed me and all the special things they remembered...I just wanted to cry.

Had I really left such an impact?
Wasn't I just a hot mess barely keeping afloat?
Had they really noticed I cared so much?
Had they really listened every time I took them aside and spoke truth into their life?
They did.
They heard every word.
When they seemed disinterested, they weren't.
When they seemed like they weren't paying attention to my advice, they were.

They were testing me.
And I passed.
And they let me in.
....and I left.
Like all other adults in their life do.

So, that piece I will be wrestling with for awhile.
But what I know to be true is that we should never doubt the impact we can have on another person.
The lie is that what you do or say doesn't matter. That if it's not you, someone else just as capable will do it.
But someone else won't. And they don't.

What I know to be true I that God is good.
And He is in control.
And He is for me.
And He is the one who made me like this.
And He is the one who made my heart fill with love for these kids.
And He knows what He's doing...even when it hurts.

Sometimes, there are seasons. And you have to be able to let go. And you have to be able to give your whole heart to the new thing.
I realized, I haven't been giving me whole heart to my new students.
That I have still been mourning my first home. My first love.
Or rather, I never really left myself mourn.
But yesterday...I had a chance to do that.

But... I'm going to do whatever I do with my whole heart.
Starting now.
Because my new students deserve the same memories.
 Even if it's not the same as the old school, it was never suppose to be.
And this problem of giving my whole heart isn't just here. It's everywhere in my life.
I'm going to not avoid things that may hurt.
Or pull away from hugs first before someone else can.
Or end phone conversations before someone else does.
I'm going to try to love fully. Be a friend fully. Be a teacher fully. Be a child of God fully.
And stop trying to protect my heart so much.
Because I may never cry if I do that, but I miss the whole point.

Thank you to my first group of kids.
Who taught me so much about myself and about life.
Who fought and survived their circumstances.
Who inspired me every day. Who made me laugh.
And who let me in their worlds and loved me.
... do you know how that feels?

I'm learning to:
Love even if I will have to move on.
Not diminish the power I have in others lives.
Trust God's seasons.
Because even if I knew I would have this pain of loss when I started, I would have done it all anyway.

Because I'm lucky, I do know how 'that' feels.

Xoxo,
Mp

If Not For Winter

Six weeks: now patches of ground
emerge from white fortresses.
How beautiful is the dirt
I took for granted. Extraordinary
the wild green of grass islands.

Having the world snatched
from us makes us grateful even
for fence posts, for wheelbarrow
rising, for the stalwart spears
of daffodil uncovered.

 "February ground" by Marge Piercy

Lately, I've been noticing that you can't appreciate in full the beauty or magnitude of something unless you're reminded of what it's like without it. Spring holds such power because of this; a new smell in the air, wind scented with promise, flower bursting from the ground. But if we lived in a perpetual state of Spring, would it lose it's magic? What is Spring if not for it's predecessor, Winter?

A few friends and I took a trip to Lake Augur in the Adirondacks over break. It was a great time to sit by the fireplace, read, spend time with Jesus, dance on frozen lakes, and catch up after post-college life has tried to swallow us whole. One thing that stands out; the stars. On the last night we were there a few of us drove by car out into the middle of the road down where there was an opening. It was chill-you-to-the-bone cold but we were determined. Once we got out of the car and looked up into the sky I was 1-In love with the incredible beauty of it all and 2-Pissed off (ha!). Once I soaked up all the beauty that is stars in the ADK...so clear, so shockingly clear, so beautiful...I felt cheated. Stars don't look like that in Rochester. I have settled for a perverted version of stars most of my life. And to make it worse, I know how they CAN look. I just always forget; getting lulled into mediocrity. But people in the ADK see these every night. Although hard for me to believe, I think a lot of them are used to their sky.

So, you can't seem to really appreciate Spring without Winter. And you can't really appreciate ADK stars without first being cheated by ROC stars. The beauty really lies in the absence.

And the same goes for my personal life as well lately.

I recently decided it would be a good idea to go off of a medicine I have been on since May.

This was the same medicine that managed to clear my head and keep me stable. Logical. Happy.

I became so used to that new type of normal I forgot what it was like before.

And then 7 days off of it....the old friend started to creep back in a bit.

And I was quickly reminded how I used to function. What I thought was just normal before was revealed for what it really is.

Now I know better. I know that's not normal. I have tasted what it could be like.

Funny, though, that in just 10 short months I had taken for granted this new type of normal.

I had forgotten what, in it's absence, my reality held.

This morning, I have a new appreciation for that normal.

For a brain that doesn't deal with 'Wave Nights".

For emotions that don't deceive you.

For moods that don't imprison you.

For stability.

For general happiness.
(SIDE NOTE: I am not advocating for wrecking your life or going off medicine you should be on to appreciate it more when you go back on it. Ha. I have specific reasons).

And honestly, this idea applies to everything.
To appreciating great boyfriends because of all the schmucks.
To fall in love with the juicy orange because of all the yucky dry ones.
To love toilet paper because of the weeks in Peru.
Etc, etc, etc....

I guess what I've been thinking about is pain.

And death of oneself.

And the inability to avoid the rough patches in life.

It's impossible to get by without facing certain things or going without.

And even if we could, it would mean a lifetime of not fully grasping that beauty.

The truth is, I want what He wants.

Whatever that costs.

Especially if that means I'm not lulled into a life coma.

Especially if that means I know what it's like to feel and to be alive.

Because there is beauty in transitions and in changing of seasons; even if it's not easier.

There's something in it that reminds us, 

"Stay awake. Don't fall asleep. Don't forget."

So the next time it feels like things are shaking, welcome it.

And when things are good, enjoy it.

But always remember the power of predecessors. 

Spring is nothing if not for Winter. 

xoxo,

mp

1 Peter 5:10 "And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast."