2014 Reflection (Because I Don't Make Resolutions!)

            So what’s been different this year? With the New Year at my fingertips I gingerly turn back the pages of my year to see what, if anything is actually different. It’s no secret I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions. I don’t see the point of disappointing myself more than usual. Why promise to do things or not do things? I sort of let things happen, strive for things. I certainly don’t want to wait an entire year to try to do better or make a serious to-do list. But what is different now than last year?  Let’s see…. I let my hair grow out quite a bit and I’m wearing it natural, more wavy. I figure we gals have spent WAY too much time styling our hair. YEARS! YEARS we have spent styling our hair to do unnatural things and our hair, our poor hair has had no voice of its own to protest (though if you look back through yearbooks you will see there, on those pages, are indeed protests). I weigh pretty much the same as I did a year ago, though I was probably in better shape then. I have a different cable carrier. Viola! Life changing event! Ok, not really. Same car, same house, same job, same kids (though there were a few times I seriously considered a trade on one or both). So what really changed? What’s new? What big enlightenment did Becky encounter this year?

           

            I stood on the back porch tonight and kind of chuckled at the whole New Year’s Eve thing. I like it, don’t get me wrong. I like new things; fresh starts. I like a full tank of gas and a fresh book of stamps (yes, I still mail things, don’t judge me). I always felt like with a full tank of gas or a fresh book of stamps you could do pretty much anything. I don’t know why I felt that way, but I developed that attitude when I was at Auburn and pathetically homesick. I could mail letters to my mom or come home if necessary. Poor me. That’s another blog for another time and yes, Mom, I’m still sorry about a lot of that. Moving on here…

            As I looked to the winter sky (winter evening skies are the prettiest) I asked myself what was so different this year. This is where I have to admit that I sometimes hear things. Not like those people who walk around with full shopping carts that aren’t anywhere near a store, talking to themselves. It’s more like a very still, small voice that hits me. I like to think of this as me FINALLY getting quiet enough that God’s voice actually gets through my thick skull and I hear what He wants me to instead of all the monkey chatter that has accompanied me since birth. Mom used to say to me “Five minutes, Becky, please, just five minutes” and I think I know why. Ok, for starters, bless her, she really needed the peace and quiet, but she probably knew that one day I needed to be quiet enough to hear things, besides my own voice, that would help direct me, guide me. Maybe or maybe not but that sounded really good so I’m leaving it in here.

            “You have changed”. I was a little taken aback because this isn’t something I would normally tell myself but being that I was hearing it loud and clear I decided to cut myself some slack and look at the ways this past year has grown me.

            I HAVE changed. People often think that others don’t change. I disagree. I think if we are smart we are seeking to grow, to change, to be better, stronger, smarter. Sometimes we change on purpose. Sometimes change finds us because it is, quite simply, time.

            I have made a lot of mistakes over the past year.  I am here, raw and ready to admit it. That’s all I’m going to say about that, so don’t get your hopes up that I’m going into full confession mode. Ha. No way! But I have learned a lot about who I am. I learned that I really love what it has taken for me to get to this shaky, unknowing, vulnerable, scary place in my life. Now, you may be wondering why I am not describing my place as more sound, stable, and knowing. Because when you learn more about who you are and where you are you realize that nothing is totally stable, sound, and for heaven’s sake, you know nothing! Seriously! Remember what a great parent you were before you had kids? Hahahhaha Exactly! Those silly kids forgot to show up with their owner’s manual and we have had to wing it from day one! The very person who swore they would never bribe their kids now passes out freeze pops to her kids and their friends if they will simply wipe down the window sills.

So how am I different? I have learned that while I may know little about what may or may not happen in life, I do know how I react to things is the cornerstone for my own happiness. I have learned the happiness of others is not my responsibility and none of us owe excuses, explanations, or apologies for who we are or for our own values, thoughts, opinions, or beliefs. I have realized that engaging in any conversation with some people is like feeding a cat. Sometimes people are looking (as a friend of mine said today) to pick a fight, argument, or for someone to be mad at. I won’t engage. I am taking small baby steps to get where I want to be. The big picture has been looking too big and scary but I finally began taking small baby steps and it has felt empowering, albeit a little scary. There is something liberating when you realize how paralyzing fear has been.

            When did we become afraid to try new things? As kids we, or my sisters and I did most anything. We were ridiculously unafraid of fear if that makes sense. In fact we didn’t have enough sense to be afraid of the things we should! Rolling off the roof onto lawn cushions? Sure! Sign me up! Nothing could possibly go wrong with that! Skateboarding down the neighbor’s steep driveway out into the street while our designated “watcher” made sure a car wasn’t coming? No fear! Invincible! Fast forward 30, ok fine 35 years later and I’m having semi-panic attacks at the thought of writing a book or packing boxes to store in hopes of selling a home. I realize these are big people things, but really? In the grand scheme of life, we are healthy, happy, and so what if I fail? I’m right back here where I am right now… happily clicking away on my trusty laptop.

            So what has changed? Not much, except me… in a lot of ways. So I guess that is much. Maybe we shouldn’t put so much pressure on ourselves to change. It seems that if we listen to life (five minutes, please, five minutes) and pay attention to all the lessons out there for us to learn we will have plenty of resolutions that take care of themselves without us setting ourselves up for disappointment. And change? Like it or not you probably will. And this next year will be different. How different and what kind of different is up to you.

Happy New Year!

Resolution-Free,

Becky

December 31, 2014

Merry Christmas, Life Lessons, and Stuff...

So today is Christmas. Merry Christmas! Nothing says Merry Christmas like having to go to the Imaging Center for a couple of scans. I had to do that yesterday. It wasn’t a big deal really and I was in and out within a couple of hours. While getting an echocardiogram on my heart (I just thought I’d throw that big word in there) the technician really started talking to me. Really talking to me. I liked that. This person seemed real. I like real. In fact if you seem perfect and totally together there is a real good chance I won’t want to spend time with you because either A) you’re totally clueless or B) you’re totally clueless and/or not ok with your imperfections or C) did I already say totally clueless?

Anyway, so this person simply mentions something their grown child had said and followed it with, “…and that absolutely broke my heart, but he’ll have to learn this on his own.” I mentioned that I felt so many of life’s lessons were that way and we do eventually learn things the hard way. Well, of course all of this got me to thinkin…

We have those “Ah-ha!” moments in life, don’t we? We have those moments when the lightbulb comes on and we simply aren’t who we were and everything everyone ever said to help guide us to that point comes rushing back to us. We get it. All of the seeds that have been planted come to fruition. This is why I don’t think we can possibly change someone by ourselves. It takes so many millions (ok maybe not millions but a lot, It’s Christmas, give me a break) of little lessons for us to reach those Ah-ha moments. I also can tell you that no one can break your heart like your children.

We try too hard to teach our children the easy way so that life’s hard lessons don’t hurt them and they don’t hurt us. We try to shield them from pain, heartache, and sadness so the Ah-has come a little easier for them. That doesn’t work. It simply doesn’t work. As a friend told me, it doesn’t matter what we say or do, we’ll be wrong in their eyes sometimes and it takes them learning lessons the hard way to get it. I can’t tell you how many phone calls to my mother that have begun with, “I am so sorry…” because I finally get what she went through. I learned. The hard way.

Self-confidence comes with learning things and many times it really comes with learning things the hard way. The wonderful thing about learning is that no one can take it away from you. No one can take the experiences, the eye-openers away from you. We can use these experiences to be jaded or become wise; as stumbling blocks or stepping stones. It’s up to us, it really is. I have had people tell me that I don’t seem like the kind of person who would put up with such-and-such. My reply is that I’m not…anymore. I have learned so much over the last several years. People do change and if we allow it, we become wiser, more empathetic, and forgiving. We learn to see the world differently; not better or worse really, just differently, and we realize that we can help guide others. We can’t fix anyone, make anyone “see” anything, but guide them, and love them while they figure things out and wait for their Ah-ha moments.

I think God is like this with us. I think He is smart enough to never take a learning opportunity away from us. I think no one can ever hurt His heart like His children, but I also think He knows that He can’t make us “see” anything and we still really appreciate it; that we have to learn things through life lessons. I think God probably smacks His own forehead a lot the way we smack ours when our kids finally get something we think they should have already figured out but I also think He celebrates our small steps as well as our big ones. I don’t know for sure, but I think about how I love my kids and how much more He must love us and how this whole parenting thing isn’t easy… it just make me feel closer to God.

So, Merry Christmas! Be thankful for what you have and be patient with others as they are learning. Unless safety is concerned, never take away a learning opportunity, and when you feel like smacking your forehead because you think someone should have it by now talk to God about it. I have a pretty good idea He understands.

Lovingly,

Becky Wilkenson

December 25, 2014

All Roads Lead Home... But to Which One????

I have been divorced for nearly 9 years. I always miss my kids when they aren’t with me, so please know that. We occasionally take separate vacations and yes, it did take me a long time to be okay with that. However, now it really doesn’t bother me to be alone and I don’t feel lonely very often. I enjoy driving. I enjoy driving alone with my sunroof open and my radio up, singing loudly (tip: If you are in a traffic jam, people next to you may hear you). I was really looking forward to my drive to and from Virginia for my fall break. No worries on weather, I will crank up the AC or the heat. It’s my car. I have to feel the wind in my hair! Unless it rains. I do have boundaries.

            Cruising on up on Friday after school, I knew I was going to stop in Knoxville so I really wasn’t in any hurry. Good thing! It is perpetual rush hour in Chattanooga. No fret. I’m alone with my thoughts and there are approximately 124 radio stations from which to choose. I scan. I’m now grooving and moving at about 15 mph when I realize that this awesome tune, to which I am steering-wheel-drumming is Spanish. I don’t speak, nor do I understand Spanish. For the record, I can conjugate some verbs in Latin and I can tell you that the girl and the country are beautiful. Watch out Cicero! 

I took this for Susan. I have no idea why!

Knoxville traffic was not a lot better as UT played Florida on Saturday, but I was highly entertained at a bar by some enthusiastic people while I had the pleasure of simply being an outside observer. Being enthusiastic myself about getting to ‘my second home’ I was up and at ‘em WAY early on Saturday and got in to Roanoke at about 10:45 a.m. with a smile on my face and a Venti Pumpkin Spice Latte in tow for my most gracious host and best friend in the whole wide world, Susan.

            Going back to Roanoke feels like home to me. I only lived there for 6 years and that was over 18 years ago, but I can maneuver myself around there pretty well still (i.e. I know some great places to shop and found a new great gourmet wine place!) Going to church on Sunday morning felt like no time had passed. I was able to see so many people who impacted my life so much more than they will ever realize. I couldn’t stop smiling, talking, laughing. My heart began to hurt. I couldn’t tell if it was in a good way, bad way… what way. I just knew something was tugging on me that hadn’t in a long, long time.

My dear friend Keith Wagner. He has no idea how many lives he has made better!

Fast forwarding past the crazy Sunday afternoon with “Peter the Pilot from Germany”, the gliding, and the awesome picnic with Susan’s family, the dinner with friends, going to school with Susan and seeing a dear friend with whom I used to teach when I was there, collaborating with an amazing counselor, having lunch with new friends, dinner with the LMFTO friends, crazy cross fit with Channing, yoga, deer, (I missed the dead bear…sigh… I never have ANY fun! lol) and approximately 32 pumpkin spice latte’s to my early morning drive on the Blue Ridge Parkway. (Yes, that was one sentence, don’t judge me.)

             Roughly one hundred years ago, or 20 when I lived in Roanoke I would take the Blue Ridge Parkway as often as I could because it is, hands down, one of the most peaceful places on earth. It can also be a little scary but that’s a blog for another time. The scenery is exquisite and when the speed limit is posted 45 mph they are NOT KIDDING! The lookouts are scattered and depending on the time of the year you will find that some are better than others. On Tuesday morning with coffee in hand, I set out on my drive. Having no idea where I was going really, I quickly realized other people knew exactly where they were going. To work. Oops. Sorry, I found an overlook to pull over and realized how perfect it was. Turning the car off and trotting through the grass to get a few shots with my little phone camera, peace washed over me like nothing that a keyboard can explain. The air was fresh, the colors were rich, the sun was beginning to peek through the clouds. I could have stayed all day taking in this amazing earth that God created and intended for us to enjoy. Excited about reconnecting to some ‘slow and peaceful’ quiet stillness in my heart, I drove a little more and took a very skinny, windy four-mile loop that almost thrilled my stomach as much as Peter the Pilot’s cartwheels did. I would love to say that I took time to meditate at each of my stops, to pray, to ponder. I didn’t. Not in the traditional sense. But here is what I realized and took away:

Our lives get so fast paced with ‘what’s next’, what we ‘should be’ doing, ‘what’s wrong’ and ‘what if’ that we (or I at least) fail to slow down and live in today and friends, today is all we have. The beauty was so captivating I craved, CRAVED to have my kids with me to show them the mountains, the city from “The Star”, the creeks, the trees, the sun coming through the clouds, even the stars on the morning when I left and there was no power (and you haven’t seen ‘dark’ until you’ve been way out on a mountain with no power). I took with me that while I crave to be back there, surrounded by that beauty daily, like I was then, we have so much everywhere that we miss; not because it isn’t here, but because we are too busy with everything else. I know life is and must be. I know things must keep moving and we have to work to keep things going, but like the phrase says, are we so busy making a living that we forget to have a life?

            I have the best friends and family here in Alabama. I love my job and have the best colleagues! I am blessed beyond reason, no doubt. I honestly don’t know how I could ever leave here. As a 1^st grade student said to me a couple of weeks ago I feel like I’m in “a real pickle” sometimes because I want to be in both places. So it hits me… I have two homes!! How wonderful! I told sweet Morgan that when you are happy with yourself, you can be happy anywhere and I immediately wanted to take that back, so Morgan, listen up… I take that back. Here is what I think (It’s my mind, I can change it). When you are truly happy, joyful way deep down inside, you are fine knowing that you may or may not be exactly where you want to be and that’s ok. You are fine with the fact that life is and you realize there are options. You explore them and appreciate the best of everything. There is no ‘grass is greener’ because you know that you’ll take your joy with you wherever you go; whether it’s to the beach, to work, to the store, or to the most beautiful and peaceful place to perhaps make a second home, Virginia. And you are fine simply not knowing what your future holds, because you truly do know who holds it.

             I cried a little when I was there. I won’t lie. Ok, some of it was when I was laughing so hard from the inside of the gliding plane, but some of it was because I miss it so much, but I don’t have to miss it. The mountains, the creeks, the trees, the beauty of Virginia, the peace it brings me, and most especially the friendships aren’t going anywhere. Interstates. Awesome. Cell phones. Social Media. Amazing! So grateful I have the best of both worlds and that all roads do lead home. Whichever one that is.

Peacefully,

Becky 

October 9, 2014

*Susan and Lyn, thank you for being the most gracious hosts and best friends. Thank you for the dinners, the laughs, the thrills. Thank you for letting me watch the Auburn game. J I love you both so much!!

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Pickin' Blackberries

Yesterday was Sunday and we had one of our wonderful “Sunday at Mama’s” kind of lunch. These days are always pretty laid back and they are followed with us lounging around the family room being goofy, remembering when, etc.  Yesterday was not much different until my mom sprang up and spritely said, “Everyone get a bowl. We’re going to pick blackberries!”

Now, let me tell you that our memories of blackberry pickin’ did not make us jump up and grab the biggest bowl that we could dig out of the kitchen. In fact I grabbed a clean, empty yogurt cup and shouted, “Here’s mine!” Apparently that wasn't going to do, so I grabbed only a slightly larger one. Who doesn't love standing in the heat, dodging stinging insects and briers, walking through fire ant hills, only to pick a few berries whose stain will not come out of your fingers? Sign me up!

Off we go. Lucky for us many of the blackberry bushes were actually along Mom’s driveway and had already been picked pretty clean. All of us strolled along talking, laughing, being silly and sneaking blackberries out of each other’s bowls. Liam would occasionally be Liam and touch someone’s leg with a stick of bamboo so they would scream bloody murder, thinking something was crawling on them. I knew to stand by Mom, who didn't have a bowl and would put her berries in mine J. My niece, Caroline, who is nearly 3 had a great time as her tall cousins, Liam and Mary, would lift her to pick the best berries on top and even enjoyed picking some green apples! We also found a birds nest in a tree to show her. “I sure hope a bird doesn't fly out of there!” someone said and I thought how quickly this tender day could turn into one that required psychotherapy, but it didn't. My niece, Audrey and I lingered a bit and talked about nothing but silliness.

 

Proud of her pick!

 I started realizing this had nothing to do with picking berries and everything to do with getting out of the house. No cell phones (ok, later my sister Beth, a natural photographer, caved and went to get one to take a few pictures), no tv, no anything! Just family, nature, conversation, and a lot of laughter.

I can’t tell you how many pictures my heart took yesterday. When we left I felt a wash of peace over me that I hadn't felt in a long time. Family. Nature. Togetherness.

My little sister Barb is a natural when it comes to cooking and baking so I gave her my blackberries because I knew that she would very well make a cobbler (and we would probably eat our blackberries in the car).  Also, I made fun of her for being short and I felt bad so I thought that was sort of reparation on my part, right?

 

Some of the delicious goodness we picked!

My kids have plenty of what they need and want but what I hope we all provide for them is so much more meaningful than material things, and I hope they see this. Our family, although not perfect, is entirely devoted. We don’t quit each other, ever. We laugh a lot. We've had to. BOY have we had to! We love a lot. We've cried. We offer support and help to each other and we’re silly sometimes. Ok, a lot.

Standing in the heat, dodging stinging things, pricking our fingers on briers for a few blackberries? It was so worth it. I think Mom, in her beautiful wisdom, already knew what we would get out of that stroll. I’m pretty sure that’s why she didn't even bother to bring a bowl.

Finger stained,

Becky

July 21, 2014

Why is Love a 4-Letter Word?

            I don’t think anyone would disagree that our energy levels tend to go up when we are around those we love. I have had more than one person tell me that I am perkier when my chicks are here in the nest. Even if the kids are running around with their friends, if they are “here”, I seem to have a little more spring in my step and be able to breathe a little easier.  I don’t know if this comes from the fact that they are literally a part of me, or simply that I love them so much that their presence is calming to me (ok, most of the time!), nevertheless, it is so.

            As I was taking Mary Abbott to volleyball this morning I glanced over at her and said, “I feel sorry for people who don’t have a Mary and Liam.” She didn’t really say anything. They hear me say these things all the time. She just smiles a little. She was barely awake. That’s ok. My kids are both pretty expressive, each in their own way. My family is big on “I love you”’s. We always have been. Growing up we always said this when we were leaving or going to bed or hanging up the phone. We have been accused of saying it so much that it doesn’t mean anything. Let me address this right now: If I don’t love you, I won’t say it. Period. Give me a break! We dealt with loss at a young age and we are wise enough to know there are no moments guaranteed other than this one. Why withhold a loving word? Why save it for special moments? Because it will mean more if we don’t say it often? I disagree. Here is my take on the “L” word that people are so afraid of using.

           

            There are many types of love. In the Christian world I was raised hearing about Eros, Agape, and Philos. I’m focusing mostly on Agape and Philos (I’ll leave the Eros to you all as it seems to not be working out for me at the moment). People who know me know that I do all things big. I laugh big, love big, care big. I don’t do much very small. If I’m in, I’m all in. If I am getting to know you I’ll probably keep you at arm’s length and when I figure you’re ok then you get to cross the great threshold into Becky’s world and I love you. Period. As a friend, companion, whatever! Now, that does not mean that I am a sucker or door mat. Nor does it mean I want to marry you. I’m sorry, but I just had a little eye twitch there… the thought of cleaning up after yet another person makes me cringe. Companion for travel and good times? Sure! I have to cook for you?!!? No way! But for the most part, I love you and will do what I can to let you know that and care for you. That’s just how I am. I realize that most people are more cautious and that I am gravely misunderstood. I hate that, but it is what it is.

            I haven’t always been so open. For years I was very scared of people. No one knows this and I am being very candid here, but after my first divorce, I was so afraid of being hurt again that I had my precious few friends and that was all I needed. I then married again and after some sticky things and some friends who turned out not to be friends at all, I found myself closing off again. I can honestly tell you that it’s easy to hide in your house or your classroom or office and look really, really busy to keep people at bay. God forbid that anyone ever get close to me to hurt me again. But you know what I realized was happening? I wasn’t happy. I was lonely. I was sad. And I knew that I had a lot of love to give and I *needed* love from people.

            So what’s a girl to do? I had to start making myself say yes. I had to start making  myself get to know people, take risks, go out and have fun, and yes, even have my heart broken by people I hoped would be friends and even interests. Because here is what I have learned: You can sit at home in isolation, literally or figuratively, and hurt and the healing of all the brokenness that you have had will be the only company you keep, or you can get out and meet people and all of a sudden you are hearing the precious words “Me too!” or “I’ve been there, if you need to talk!” and you realize that you aren’t alone and your heart feels lighter and you smile and laugh more. And you realize love doesn’t mean all or nothing.

            What does this have to do with my children and the people in my life that I love? Everything. I don’t see love as something to be “in”, it is something you do. I see love as something that just is and it is all around and it is in everyone to be discovered on a daily basis. I see it waiting to be brought out in those who feel hurt, scathed, angry, broken, and alone. I see it in those who are too shy to speak out. I see it in those who seemingly have it all together that you couldn’t imagine they would be lacking for anything (no one has it all together). Why do we wait for special occasions to love people? Or let them know they’re loved? Why can’t we just love each other and allow ourselves to be loved? Why is the “L” word such a 4-letter word? Ok, no jokes there, it IS a 4-letter word, but it’s a GREAT 4-letter word. Why do we make it a bad one? Why does it have to be dreaded, feared, or ran from? Can “love” really be overused?

            I understand that people don’t go throwing that word around and I understand why. I tell my family, friends, and of course my kids that I love them. I mean it. I always do. I simply cannot imagine lying on my death bed saying, “Gee, I wish I hadn’t loved so much.” Not me. Maybe someone else will. Not me. The people around me, whom I love so much, give me energy. They make me smile. They make me crazy sometimes, but that’s part of the package and I love that, too. I would much rather be open to the risks, than closed off. Being closed off assures nothing more than…well…being closed off. Open to risks? There is so much out there to love; so many people who need it, so many people to share it. So glad God opened my eyes to it!

Lovingly,

Becky

Reflections from the Greenway

            I love nature! I really do! I don’t love it when it’s too hot, too cold, or too buggy. Otherwise I absolutely love being outside. Many of you know that my back porch is my oasis with a good book, a cup of coffee, or a glass of wine. I prefer a walking trail to the treadmill, and though it may be 90 degrees, I will have my roof open and windows down just to feel the wind.

            This morning I went for a long walk at the greenway and had many reflections. Some were shallow simple reflections while others were somewhat deep. I often skip taking my phone and the music when I go to the greenway because the birds, crickets, the stream, and “Good mornings!” are a harmonious symphony to me to which nothing else compares. I also seem to smell the wildflowers and honeysuckle a little better.

            Some of my simpler reflections were things such as:

1.      If you aren't feeling particularly social or happy, go to the greenway. Most everyone will smile and bid you a good morning J.
2.      No one cares what you look like; whether or not you have on make-up, a sloppy bun, whether or not you have the thigh-gap (who really has this? And those of us who don’t are *that* much closer to being a mermaid… and who doesn’t want to be a mermaid? We win!).
3.  Everyone is there for themselves; to be in touch with themselves or with nature, or God. No one is there to judge you.
4.    You shouldn’t forget your water. You may become cranky. Just sayin’.
5.   The greenway should smell like nature; grass and wildflowers and perhaps faintly of Tide or Downy due to clean clothes, but never like heavy perfume or cologne (ok that was a small rant).
6.    Although I still have a quick pace, I walk more than I run now. Sometimes I do both but when I walk I can take in more nature and enjoy more. When women run past me I secretly cheer them on with a “You go girl!” because I know it’s not easy.
7.  Coconut oil makes a great, lightly scented body moisturizer/natural spf. :) Really.

These were just a few of my simpler thinkings as I ambled along this morning. I try to reign in my brain because many times as I take these long walks, I make them “prayer walks”. I have to purposefully remove myself from people, media, etc. to have quiet time. Sometimes my prayer walks are simply to thank God for so many things, people, and situations, specifically, that I realize I take for granted. Sometimes I talk to him in my head about what’s going on and ask what I need to listen for to help make things better. Today I was especially thankful for so many things and found myself realizing how often we look for there to be something to “fix”.

      Because my brain works the way it does (and thank God he knows it, made me this way, and has a great sense of humor so He just rolls with me on this) I ended up thinking about how far I’ve come (and yes, how far I have to go) with letting things go. I am not a control freak about things per se. I am actually pretty laid back about most things. Where I AM a control freak is in thinking about things and trying to “figure them out and make them make sense” when sometimes things are just simply nonsensical. I don’t like that. I don’t like it at all. I have been known to say “It’s just magic” if something doesn’t fit quiet right into my thinking because even magic is something and makes more sense than not making sense. Did that make sense? It did in my head.

Anyway, I had sort of an epiphany and my epiphanies seem to be long and drawn out, so I’ve been facing this one for a while (dear friends of mine will have to remind me of it in a month or two because I often forget them as well), but here it is: It isn’t our job to make sense of everything. Are you wowed? You should be wowed. My close friends are saying “By George, I think she’s got it!” For me to come to accept this is remarkable. Deep thinking is what I have done since birth and will continue to do, and figuring things out is something I've always done well. I think that’s what makes me love my job and very good at my job, but it has also made me and others close to me absolutely insane at times. It has cost me friendships and relationships and many sleepless nights and a lot of laughter. Why? Because our creator did not put me or anyone else here to figure it all out.  (Insert “BAM”)

I tell Liam and Mary Abbott often, “It’s my job to be your mom. I’m here to make sure you are fed, clothed, educated, etc.”  I realize that God made me on purpose. He made *us* on purpose and it is His job to take care of us. It is HIS  job to figure everything out. My sister has a little girl going through her “terrible twos” (I didn't have the heart to tell her it goes on until 3 or 4) but I think we do that to God throughout our entire life. We try to fix things, maneuver things, manipulate things to get what we want and as we lay exhausted on the floor at our worst, after having yet another temper tantrum our Father picks us up and holds us close and asks, “Are you finished? Now hand me your life, all of it, and I’ll take care of it. I created it and I know how to fix it.” We, as His children have to hand it to Him. All of it. Most of us have had a child bring us something to fix but they have refused to let it go. We can’t fix what they won’t let go. Neither can He. We must face that we can’t do it. Not that we can’t do it alone, but dear God we can’t do it. Period. He does.

A dear and wonderful man spoke at church yesterday and he kept saying that he refused for years to give God credit for all the opportunities that He had placed in front of him. I think we so often cruise along in life forgetting these things. Maybe that’s when we unplug, leave the music at home, take a long walk and simply thank Him for having it figured out for us. Thank Him that we don’t have to because God knows most of us can’t make sense of things anyway.

So, take a walk, smile at people, say “good morning”, and wear God on your face. Take your water bottle… it’s warm out there. And don’t think too much. It’s not your job.

Happily,

Becky

July 7, 2014

*Photo: Madison, AL Official Website

http://www.ci.madison.al.us/index.aspx?NID=681

What are You Worth?

What are you worth? Are you worth what’s in your bank account? Your 401K? Are you worth the sum of everything you've ever been told about yourself? I feel like sharing this because I think so many people, especially young ladies and women for some reason, are afraid of knowing their value, their worth.

           

Some time ago I wrote about being so much more than a number; a number on a scale, a social security number, a bank account number, a test score, etc. You get the point. We are so much more. Deep down in our core I truly believe we are so much more, but why are so many of us afraid of accepting that? Or at least afraid to acknowledge it?

           

Being raised in the south (insert a “woohoo!”) I was raised very proper. I was raised to deflect and brush off too many compliments lest I look vain. Most people do. Unfortunately this often comes across as being self-debasing, devaluing, and unloving. Recently I had a conversation with someone that began with me saying , “Don’t doubt for one second that I know my worth, my value…” and it felt really good to say but I want to say to my daughter, my son, my sweet young thing I am so humbly mentoring, and everyone else who has a hard time being able to see your worth, what it means and what it does not.

           

When you know what you are worth, your value, you know that you were created like no other human being on the entire planet. You know that you deserve to be respected for your mind, your race, your religious and spiritual beliefs, your flaws, your sense of humor as quirky as it may be, and what makes you tick. When you know your worth you value yourself; you value your body and take care of it and expect others to value it as well. You take care of yourself and put yourself together; not because of what others will think, but because it makes you feel good.

           

I read a quote the other day that tickled me, “Never go out in sweats because you may run into an ex or an enemy”. I do believe in putting yourself together for a few reasons, 1) I never want my children or my significant other to be embarrassed of me 2) I may run into my past 3) I may run into a future 4) A little lip gloss and cute shoes can go a long way in making a girl feel really awesome!

           

Anyway, back to our worth…  When you know your worth you don’t allow others to treat you like an option. You keep your head high in the face of adversity, but also allow yourself to feel sadness, anger, and hurt because being human is how we were created. Abusing or using others is never ok, however because you see the value in others and respect that as well.

                       

Knowing that you have value and great worth never means that you are better than anyone. It only means that you know your own story, have walked your own journey, cried your own tears, and awakened to the sound of your own laughter to learn that you are beautiful and you see the beauty in others and want to learn about their journey as well. It is loving differences, diversity, and seeing the hope where others see hopelessness.  I truly believe that when you learn who you are and see yourself for what God has created you, well, first of all you see that He has a serious sense of humor, but you also see others as His as well. You see everyone and everything as being “on purpose” and nothing as a mistake or coincidence.

            When you truly come into yourself you have a gate instead of walls. You lovingly let people into your lives and if they don’t value you for who you are, you lovingly let them leave.  And sometimes you realize you have made the mistake of not valuing others as well and you realize you still have a lot to learn, which is what makes this all so beautiful. Isn't all of life a process?

            So, if someone compliments you for your clothes, hair, shoes, say “Thank you” and then hush (by the way that’s a great way to learn how to accept compliments).  You don’t have to tell them that you got them at a bargain basement sale or argue that you would look better but “oh, for the humidity!” You know your worth. You were created like no other. And as my son reminded me not too long ago, “Mom, He knows how many hairs are on your head. You were created on purpose”. YOU were created on purpose. Your worth? When you know it, realize it, cherish it, and live it, others will see it in you as well. Make sure you see theirs.

On purpose,

Becky

June 29, 2014

Happy Father's Day, Mom!

            Wow! Has it really been over three months since I posted a writing? I write in my head all of the time! Probably a good thing all of that doesn't come out on the keyboard. Nonetheless, with Father’s Day upon us I have been thinking about a realization that hit me a few years ago; I had no one for whom to buy a Father’s Day gift. My father passed away years ago, as did my step-dad, and I was divorced. I did have the kids get their dad Father’s Day gifts, but that was different. It was strange. Not sad as much as it was just strange.

            Today is the anniversary of the day my dad passed away. I’m not sad really. It happened 38 years ago. Of course I miss him and think about him often, but with Father’s Day on Sunday, I wanted to say Happy Father’s Day… to Mom. I have been a single mom for 9 years now and although my kids’ father is still very much in the picture and we are very amicable with one another, my mom didn't have the same luxury of having the help I do. I am not making this a sad post, so don’t grab your tissue box just yet. I just realize that in those years of raising us alone, my mom truly was our mom and dad, and I am here to tell you that that is probably harder than anything else in the world you can be.

            So, why am I writing this and posting it instead of quietly calling and thanking her? For a couple of reasons. 1) If you know me, you know I would snot cry through the entire conversation with my mother, warranting her to ask me, “Are the kids with you?” actually meaning “Are you about to go postal and do I need to get over there?” and 2) Because if you had a single parent for any amount of time, you need to realize that the double duty they served was a far cry from easy, painless, and thoughtless.

So, Mom, I realize now that there was never, ever a night that you slept soundly after Dad died. I realize that you worried about everything from the shape the house was in; to the food we ate, to our relationships at school. I know the very person you wanted to talk to about everything in the world was gone. I know that you threw yourself into helping other people because you knew that was the way you could cope with the heart-break of losing your best friend. I saw you love bigger and deeper than you realize you probably could ever love and it prepared me to do the same, if I ever needed to. And I did. And I do. I watched you sit back and let us learn our own lessons, as painful as they were, while I’m sure you wish you had someone to talk to, someone to back you up. You did an amazing job with us. You taught us to be independent, strong, educated women because “You never know when you might have to support yourself” and we all have had to. And we all can. Thank you. You said you might have to break the knee caps off the love of my life…. Thank goodness you didn't and probably wouldn't have, but that’s what a dad does. It was funny and we laughed, but thank you for making us laugh even when our hearts were breaking. You picked your battles with us helping us learn that not everything in life is life or death. We watched you decide to pick yourself up and travel the world, teaching us that we do not, absolutely do not lie down and die in bitterness and dread when life doesn't turn out the way we planned (and it never really does).

In all of the things I watched over the years of you being our mom and dad, I learned and little did I know, prepared to be the same to my own. My situation is a bit different. I don’t know if it’s better or worse being single by choice or not, but I know this: you made me a better mom, dad, person because you had a strength unequaled. You are one of the tiniest women I know, but your grace, your love, your determination are admired by all… especially me. I know that I can never come close to being what you are, but I thank you for the lessons you have taught me, especially the ones you weren't even aware.

While Dad made his mark here on this big beautiful earth, don’t ever doubt that you have made, and continue to make things beautiful everywhere you go. You touch souls and hearts. You create laughter and fun (you can thank me later for not inserting all the stories about the trips in here… or maybe that’s another blog!).

So, Mom… thank you. And Happy Father’s Day! I love you more than you know!

The middle one J

Becky

AKA BeckBug

I Wrote This in My Sleep

I blog in my sleep. Seriously.  This morning as I was waking to the sound of the storms, the thunder and pounding rain, I was writing in my head. It’s kind of funny because I sound so genius at 3:00 a.m. in that half-wake, half-sleep state where I know I’m not quiet completely functional, but the words seem to flow. Maybe it’s because my mind is somewhat clear from slumber and hasn’t been clouded by the days happenings at that point.

I used to dream in sign language and still do sometimes. I worked with kids in VA who had hearing impairments. These precious biddies were in my classroom, so I had little choice but to learn to sign and I loved it. I’m rusty, but still can sign fairly well and it comes out in dreams sometimes. Again, I’m quiet fluent in signing conversation in my slumber but let me run into someone in public who is signing and all of a sudden it’s like I have two left hands!

Anyway, this morning as I was blogging in my sleep and trying to somewhat wake myself I asked myself this question: What would you absolutely love to do, if you knew you could support yourself and the kids by doing it? My first answer was, of course, stay in bed and listen to thunderstorms but that probably wouldn’t work. My next answer came quickly and as clear as a bell. Write. I would write.

I know I write my Extra Penny blog (which by now I wish I had named something else but I didn’t so there), but I would write all the thoughts I have all the time! Ok, I take that back, not ALL the thoughts I have all of the time lest I be led away in a snug white jacket that buckles in the back (and white is so not in before Easter), but I would write what goes on in my mind some of the time. Some people think I think too much, I think that I think the perfect amount for me. I think some people don’t think NEARLY enough!

Today what is on my mind is how I have read book after book after book on how we are to detach ourselves from emotions because emotions keep us from experiencing our higher self. I have read how we are supposed to have enough faith so God will give us our abundance. I have read how we are supposed to love without expectation. I have read so many opinions from so many other people that my mind has become overloaded and clouded and my faith has become shaky.

I am an “eat the fish, spit out the bones” kind of girl. I take the lessons I need from the encounters I have and if I am not in agreement with a certain idea, I don’t think it’s wrong, just not right for me at the moment. I may change how I see things later when another lesson is being learned, who knows?! Anyway, with so many books and ideas on how to love, not to love, how to detach, attach, commit, not commit, pray, not pray, work at, not work at and just have faith… with all the ‘stuff’ out there, I have felt myself wanting to scream at God “What do you want???”  In fact, I may have very well done this. The funny thing is, in my quiet time with Him, when I am tired, frustrated, trying to figure out what way is the right way; when I am asking “What do you want?” I hear the faintest whisper, “Do you trust me?” “Yes, God I trust you” “But do you REALLY trust me?” “Yes” “Then just talk to me, spend time with me, and trust me”.

I am a passionate person. I can’t detach from my emotions. I love big, laugh big, hug big. I care for people but have certainly learned a wonderful use for boundaries. I have found what works for me in my relationship with God. It’s so personal. I love books, people, lectures that enhance that, but  when I read things that tell me how I’m ‘supposed to be’ to get what I want in life, I realize there is no one grander than my creator to talk to. If I truly have a personal relationship with Him, accept His guidance in everything (notice I said accept it, not ask for it because it’s already provided) then there is nothing I lack.

You wanna hear the funny thing about this blog? There was no storm this morning. I wrote a completely different blog, and on the last page, my computer rebooted itself and I lost it. I went searching for it because, heaven help me, I didn’t save it early enough and I found this one… unfinished… just waiting for the writer to complete her thoughts in this place.

By the way I don’t believe in accidents, really, or coincidences. I think God brought me here to remind me that I am to spend time with Him today. I’ll rewrite the other later. It wasn’t that great anyway. I trust that’s the message God is sending. I have to believe that or else I’ll want to fling my laptop across the room. :)

Faithfully,

Becky

I'm Stupid. At Least That's What I Thought

                I’m stupid. At least that’s what I thought for the first half of my life; before I realized that I really did have half a brain and that I just thought differently. Please refrain from comment.

               

While growing up I was blessed with two sisters who were both very smart. Neither had to really study and one was even offered the option of passing up a grade. I had to study… a LOT. My precious mother would put spelling words to music for me so I could remember them. I would put vocabulary words and definitions to a rhyme, anything that would help me remember them. I’m not saying now that I think I was stupid, I’m saying that when you grow up thinking differently than everyone else, you feel that way.

                I’m being very candid about something I’ve never talked about before. If you know me, this is nothing new to you. If you are my mother I’ll go ahead and say this is not your fault and had nothing to do with you (that gets you out of reading this…. You’re welcome).

                Going to school in the 70’s and 80’s was torture. I learned at a very young age that when I zoned out it was much better to try to catch up by myself than to raise my hand and ask the teacher to repeat herself and risk being berated for not listening. I would often miss out on what everyone else seemed to get so easily and if I dared ask my neighbor, I was then in trouble for talking (not that I didn’t get in trouble for that anyway, but you get the point). I never, ever remember being taught what consonants were. Seriously. I knew my vowels, but I remember the day the word “consonants” was sprung on me and everyone else knew what that was and I froze.

                I thought I was stupid. I would get horrifically embarrassed. I would get sick. I missed so many days my 4^th grade school year I wasn’t sure I would even pass that grade. The teacher that I had that year made things worse by picking the scab off my weaknesses in front of the class and I swore if I ever taught I would never do that to a child, ever! I forgot things, missed things; my report card said I was in space, and I was called lazy. If you know me at all, you know that I am a far cry from lazy, unless I damn well feel like it which is about two times a year.

                In high school I had an algebra teacher (a coach, by the way) who was showing us an algebraic equation on the board. I took my paper up to him and very cautiously said “I don’t understand…” He said “You just plug it in! The formula… just plug it in!” It made no sense to me. I saw numbers and letters and lines. I’m not dyslexic that I know, but I sure couldn’t plug that in. Many, MANY things I could solve in my head but could not for the life of me tell my teachers how I did it. I could figure out puzzles, solve problems, etc. and do many things but had no explanation for how I could do it. “It just makes sense” was the best explanation I could give. I never cheated, I just learned what worked.

                High School Psychology. MY SAVING GRACE! I loved it! I read it, ate it, drank it! “Really???” you ask. “Really!!!” I say. You see, when someone who is severely ADD finds something that interests them, they hyper focus on it. I absolutely loved psychology. I still do. I love the brain and how it works. Maybe you are starting to see why.

                I always wanted to be a child psychologist and got about as close to that as I can, being a school counselor, while having the schedule I love and not traumatizing my own two kids by staying in school longer than I had to (Mary Abbott, you’re welcome).

                When I was starting graduate school in my late 30’s, for reasons in addition to grad school, I went to a psychologist to be tested for adult ADD. Do you remember the commercial where the woman is trying to conduct a business meeting and all these crazy things are going through her head? That’s me. All the time. For my entire life. Anyway, I go to a reputable Dr. and through the testing. Result time comes and Dr. Orvis (He looked like he hopped out of an Orvis catalog, so that’s what I named him. He doesn’t know that) asks if I have ever had head trauma (does falling out of a treehouse when you’re 4 yrs. old count? Yes, it does) or sleep disorder because that is the lower part of the bell curve in which I fell. There are other areas of another quadrant involved, but needless to say, I was mortified. He said it was amazing that I had come so far in life with such ADD, and that I “must be really intelligent” (seriously, his words, not mine). I left in tears and…. I called Momma. Mom, love her skin, said, “What is that Dr’s name? I’m gonna call him!” I had to reassure her that I was fine and she does not, indeed, need to call the psychologist.

                Why am I telling you this? If you work with children, you have no idea what’s going on inside of their mind. I can’t tell you what I learned in 1^st grade but I can very distinctly tell you what the frog bulletin board that read “Hop Into Spring” looked like… to the right of my desk in the next to last row… yes, in 1^st grade. I can give you details upon details upon details of things that may or may not matter but I have a hard time scheduling out a day without sticky notes.  Maybe you have had this go on with you and felt like you were alone. When we were growing up the labels were so harsh and cruel really. I’m telling you because when we look at children or work with children we think their lives are so carefree. They aren’t. They are struggling with things they don’t want to tell anyone. They don’t want to raise their hand to ask teachers to repeat themselves because they are terrified of being called out and berated. Students really do forget things because that is a classic sign of ADD, not that they don’t care. And it’s not just ADD, many, MANY  disorders have so many signs… do you know what they are? However, they can actually be a plus for children because it makes them learn to think differently. It wasn’t until I went back to graduate school that I realized I wasn’t stupid. I have no idea what my IQ is. It may be low, it may be high. It doesn’t matter and I don’t want to know. I know what comes easily for me and I know how I learn best. I also have empathy for children who learn differently, creatively, more efficiently even.

                I actually had a person I worked for at the time tell me I shouldn’t tell anyone about this because people might make fun of me. Well, to hell with you! People need to know that we all struggle with something and it doesn’t necessarily go away. Kids struggle, adults struggle, we need to try to understand each other. There is no “One way is the right way” when it comes to teaching and/or learning. We need to have compassion and empathy for our children and other adults as well. I get so angry when I hear teachers make comments about kids “pulling one over on me” or “playing it up”. How do you know what a kid is going through? You don’t! I know that you don’t because it’s been over 35 years that I realized I was very different and I assure you, there are people who had no clue. Try a little compassion, a little empathy.

                What is your goal for your child? For yourself? Success? Then don’t argue if it’s done differently than what you would do. Allow for differences, allow for mistakes. We are different. I for one, am really glad. I wouldn’t change a thing. Seriously. Just wanted to share.  And if this saves one person from feeling stupid, it was very much worth coming out of the stupid closet. Hope this helps someone out there.

Look, a squirrel,

Becky