January wrapped up last week and I thought I'd inventory some thoughts that have been rattling through my head:
1. Squirrels make nests.
I learned this just last week by observation and then asked friends for more information. Apparently if a nest is at the very top of a tree and it's messy instead of a nice, structured pile of branches, it's probably a squirrel's nest.
2. I don't have to "get it together" before I show up.
I got this from Anne Lamott's book, Help, Thanks, Wow, which I highly recommend. I also read it in two hours, so I figure most people can read it in a day. She talked about how many people think they have to get their life in order before they start a regular prayer life, but how a regular prayer life actually helps people get their life in order. I've found this concept true in many parts of my life. If I can just show up, I often can "get it together" there. (My eventual hope for this blog is that it will be a place where I "get it together" so I can publish something sometime.)
3. My body doesn't end at my neck.
I often focus on nurturing my brain with books or my spirit with prayer and Bible study. I'm not so good on nurturing my body with anything other than delicious food. Over the Christmas holidays, I threw out my back. This was fixed when a friend pushed certain muscle points on my stomach to put my back muscles in place. Honestly, it had been a long time since I had felt muscles in my stomach. They don't go away just because I don't think about them! So this led me to realize that I should be more intentional about taking care of my physical body. I've been doing yoga with my friendly instructor on the Wii.
4. I am not a garbage disposal.
If others in the house don't enjoy the meal I cook for them, I don't have to eat it all. If others sit and talk to me and tell me their problems, I don't have to take them on as my own. I don't have to keep every scrap of paper that might be informative some day or every invention of recyclables the kids give me.
5. Sometimes my job is to listen.
Our friend, Jason Valendy recently wrote a post about monologues in church (Read it here.) This caused me to do some thinking and Adam and I have been having discussions on monologues verses dialogues. At a fast-increasing rate, I am caught in conversations that become just my job to listen. If you know me, I do often talk a lot, so I when I'm in conversation with someone, I try to continue the dialogue, add comments, whatever. But lately, and at random places and times, I have become aware of the need to just zip my lips and listen. At the park the other day, a man was commenting on my dog. I wanted to tell him the story of Sugar Dot, but it turned out that he needed to talk to someone. He ended up speaking to me for fifteen minutes about his dog that had died, and that led to a conversation about broken marriages, custody battles, and moving back home. When I had to leave, I felt bad for him. He didn't even know my name, and I didn't get a chance to tell him. He needed someone to talk to.
In a world where people are increasing their relationships via social media and decreasing their face to face contact, I am consciously trying to pay attention and listen where needed. I am trying to recognize the places where dialogue isn't needed, but an audience for a monologue is.