To just begin. My Inspiration in starting this blog
This morning an unexpected time slot opened up. You may know the feeling if you’re a young mother or if you’re just in a particularly scheduled or busy season of life. All of the sudden there is a completely free hour. THIS NEVER HAPPENS. The freedom! The possibilities! Silence and no one needing anything for a precious 60 minutes of breathing time.
Brian offered to take our 6 year old to school, and as some of his morning patients had cancelled, suggested he go to the school mass with the kids. WITH the kids. I really picked a winner, here. I nearly reminded him that they are 2 and 4 and don’t have the best track record, but that thought stayed silent as I wouldn’t say a word that would now jeopardize my precious hour. “I’ll take the kids and you can stay home and get in an hour of writing.” Aye, aye, captain!
The morning hustle ensued in which I duct taped our daughter’s dress sleeves that are too long. You know, just normal things for a school morning. After repeated threats of, ‘We are LATE!’ (We’re working on not placing ourselves in this situation…) all three were buckled and everyone out the door.
Ah, the glorious moment has arrived. Since I almost always wait to have my coffee until after I have fueled my body with breakfast, now seemed to be the time to grab a cup before getting going. So, then I sat down and naturally, while drinking coffee I might just take one little look at my phone. I need to text about that play date later this morning. Hmm. I wonder what is on instagram? After scrolling for 5 minutes, I realize, wait, this is NOT what I want to be doing right now. A realization that continues to dawn upon me numerous times per day, it seems. Determined now, I go in and re-set my limit timer on my phone, to ensure it doesn’t get away from me.
My coffee this morning was somewhat less foamy than this one, but similarly jubilant.
Alright, NOW I am ready. I sit down on our brown leather couch. A dusting of snow has fallen during the night and it’s so downy and light that the chill morning breeze swirls tiny flakes this way and that. They are not so much falling down as just playing in the air. Lovely. There is a certain satisfaction of watching icy coldness from a cozy nest that brings a very particular feel, one like a cat purring contentedly nestled up next to a furnace register. Cozy. Comfortable. Grateful. I am in here and not out there!
My eyes drift back from this sight and are immediately fixed upon the three baskets of clothing I folded late last evening, one for each child. I know that this time is fleeting and I must make the most of it, but surely I cannot think well when I have this just staring at me like a tangible to-do list. So, up the stairs to put clothes in drawers. It is only a few minutes. But, if those baskets are cleared, well, then I need to clear the other clothes, books need to be tidy, and hmm. The mantle just doesn’t look quite right. Ah, that’s better.
How am I expected to work unless my home looks not only neat and tidy, but curated with thoughtful children’s book selections?
This is why I have never written a blog! The tyranny of the urgent is what seems to usurp my time, leaving me going from one thing to another until my day is frittered away by tasks that seem always to be getting themselves undone. Beginning is hard. I want the perfect set up and the perfect moment. Recently, I have been inspired by another artist’s posts against perfectionism. For a long time the label of perfectionist has had a negative connotation in my mind and I wouldn’t consider myself one. But, when I look at my actions, so many beginnings are stymmied by wanting it to be a certain way and never getting it accomplished.
One of my favorite quotes is by G.K. Chesterton and I love seeing how people react to it. For many there’s a level of disconcerted shock, as it seems to go against all we’ve been taught and all we feel is right. Chesterton just has a genius way of flipping something on its head to almost force a person out of old, tired ways of thinking. He says, “If something is worth doing, it’s worth doing badly.”
What? No. Surely, that is a typo. Or, perhaps he is just a lazy, careless individual. Why would anything worth doing be done without the utmost excellence and care? Well, all I can say is that this is the only inspiration that truly helped me run a half marathon. In college, a friend and I decided to run a half marathon badly. I didn’t have the time to put in the full training that would be ideal, but we figured we would just run/walk it— rock it. And, we did! We actually ran the entire thing and it was great. But I never would have even started except for this quote, which gave me permission to let go of, ultimately, my fear. Fear of not doing it well enough. Why? Because others might think I didn’t do it well enough? Why? Because I feel I need to prove myself and earn the love and esteem of those around me? False. I don’t want to live a in a state of whack-a-mole, being slave to both the urgent and trying to earn my worth. I am free.
This quote and the idea it holds brings so much freedom to just begin.
In life there are so many dreams we put off until a more ideal season. Life events thrust themselves upon us and we never begin. And it feels like there is never enough time to do what we want to do. Is this true?
The truth
What I am finding to be true in my own experience is that my desire is the wind driving how I spend my time. No longer must I be subject to the lie that taking the time to see and create beauty is frivolous or for a different time or season. ‘This time with small children is such a hard season.’ Really? In some ways, yes, of course. Physically, wow. More difficult than I ever imagined. And on another level, difficult in the constraints of so many needing one’s attention. I was interrupted several times (like 210,000) in writing this post due to the concrete needs of others and need to put down my own endeavors for the sake of my Vocational duties. But to say this season is hard and I would need to just put my nose to the grindstone strikes me as folly. I almost laugh thinking of myself previously considering the fact that in my overwhelm I thought I didn’t have time for beauty, rest, contemplation, leisure. These are exactly the things I needed! [Face palm.]
And additionally, those moments of denying myself and my desire to finish what I was doing for once (!!! Still have plenty of room to grow here on the patience and joyful serving front…) are in themselves beautiful. Self gift. The joy of loving. All the things.
writing— for me, True self care
When writing, I find what I think, as though instead of writing I am actually reading what is coming out of the pen, and thinking, wow, I really am resonating with what this person is saying! It is as though I don’t know what I think until I put it on paper or into words, at which time a magical synthesis happens in my mind and heart. One of the truths which I remind myself of— literally, I have it recorded on my phone and play it back to myself— is, ‘I write daily about the beautiful moments in my day, savoring them in my heart as our Blessed Mother did, and offering my gratitude to God. This intentional and life giving practice allows me to be more present to the beauty around me at all times, and cultivates a spirit of eagerness to see the good and openness to what Providence brings each day.’
So, basically, saying I would love to write, but don’t have time is just not the truth. Saying writing is good for me, yet I can’t do it is also just not true. We talk a lot about self-care, but real self-care is choosing to do the things that actually fill you up, rather than just pampering yourself. Or scrolling! Sometimes the most life giving, cup filling things are when you’re paradoxically, working hard to pour out, to create. And it happens by just beginning. Not waiting for myself and my circumstances to be perfectly ideal, but doing something now. Writing in the morning for 5 minutes in the midst of all of my children already being awake. Taking a moment to collect my thoughts before dinner is done. Enjoying engaging my mind at any time of day! If it is worth doing, it’s worth doing badly!
Those peonies! That pout. Perfection.
Okay, so I have established what is keeping me from writing and why it’s so crucial for me to make time to care for myself in this way. Regarding the actual content I want to explore in my writing and reflection, a particular question has been on my heart of late, and I have found it to be both challenging and helpful:
How can I live this moment beautifully?
The more I see, read, experience, the more I believe with my whole heart that this is possible in every moment. In times of intense trial, a sincere cry to God is beautiful. On a fall walk, just delighting in everything I feel is beautiful. Tonight, savoring one last cuddle with my sweet buddy falling asleep in my arms was beautiful, and you know what? It would have also been beautiful if he were disobeying my every word, but I bore it with great patience. There have been plenty of moments recently when everything around me seemed to be going haywire, screaming and crying, so many things I cannot fix, total chaos. And my goal is to test this and verify it— is it really true that we can live beautifully each moment? Is it really true that we can love in every moment? Is holiness for each moment of every day, or is it only something far off, which is outside the realm of my humble (and perhaps somewhat noisy) circumstances?
The SAints: Beauty to Inspire. To give hope.
In asking myself this question, how could I possibly have the audacity to claim, or even try to test if beauty is possible in every moment? After all, the world can be dark and grotesque. Evil, ugly things happen every day. People suffer. They truly suffer. Why?
It is beauty that inspires me to consider the possibility. The beauty of the Saints. I know it is possible to live beautifully in a concentration camp because of St. Maximillian Kolbe and Betsy ten Boom (The Hiding Place— BEST book ever.) I know it is possible to live beautifully while dying of cancer because of Bl. Chiara Luce Badano. I know it is possible to live beautifully while even being murdered, because of St. Maria Goretti. All of these individuals and their stories have become anchors in my memory, giving me a sense of great hope. And it isn’t the facts which draw me, or amaze me— it is a beauty I see. Surely, they are full of goodness and truth, but I cannot help being drawn and continually find myself struck, bowled over, pierced by the BEAUTY of their lives. The absolute stunning beauty of their love and sacrifice.
So, this blog’s purpose is mostly for myself, honestly. It is a place of reflection where I can think deeply about my life, to take seriously my own life. And to test the Christian claim in my own mind— is holiness even possible? Does living for Jesus and others truly bring peace, joy, contentment? How can I be free? Can evil be redeemed in my own life? The sufferings and struggles— can they really be beautiful? I want to look at my life and see, today, whether or not I found these to be true.
If this helps you to see beneath the surface into the heart of your own life as well, then Praise God.
