For the past six years, I have had a word. Well, I have many words. I like words and I tend to be full of them. But I have chosen just ONE word as an intended trajectory for the year to come. Peace, Merry, Light, Hope, Believe, Miracle, Wonder, Good all made the cut.
My time away from social media confirmed it: My problem is me. It’s easy to blame things, people or culture for the angst we feel, or the tension we have. The truth remains that the only thing we possess total power to change is “me.”
My time away from social media confirmed it: My problem is me. It’s easy to blame things, people or culture for the angst we feel, or the tension we have. The truth remains that the only thing we possess total power to change is “me.”
I’m taking a bit of a “socials” break. My soul just needs a rest. A little break from all the noise that sometimes fills my heart and head as I scroll the feeds of Facebook and troll the pix on Instagram. I don’t anticipate a long break. I actually enjoy your stories. And I like to share mine. I appreciate the privileges of serving in our modern world. This is not about the “other.”
I like social media. Most days. Social media has actually done much more than just enable me to share my life, advocate for causes I care about and connect with friends new and old. It has taught me a few things about myself. Yes, I have actually personally developed thanks to my news feed. And a recent “bangs?” “no bangs” poll was no exception.
I recently read a post that described how to be a mom in 2019. “Make sure your children’s academic, emotional, psychological, mental, spiritual, physical, nutritional and social needs are met,” while being careful, “not to overstimulate, underestimate, improperly medicate, helicopter, or neglect them,” while maintaining, “a screen-free, processed foods-free, plastic-free, body-positive, socially-conscious, egalitarian (yet authoritative), nurturing, while fostering an ethos of independence, gentle, but not overly permissive, pesticide-free, two-story, multilingual home, preferably on a cul-de-sac, with an earth-first backyard.” Oh yeah, “And don’t forget the coconut oil!”
I used to run. I stopped. I suppose I quit. But I most certainly didn’t give up.
Running served it’s purpose, a life-giving one, in fact. It kept me sane during the first eighteen months of my fourth child’s life. It enabled me to drink milkshakes”a poor choice at best. But it’s what I knew at the time.Running offset those horrible, calorie-brimming ice-dream delights from Chic-fil-a I crushed once a week. I stopped drinking those too (#healthcoach). But running was good. It became spiritual for me. God spoke to me on my runs.
OK. So it’s NOT a new word. It’s been around since the 18th century. But “entrepreneur” has only been an active party of my vocabulary over the past five years. According to Merriam Webster, the word entrepreneur simply means “a person who starts a business and is willing to risk loss in order to make money.” Whether it carries an additional connotation of “far-sightedness and innovation”? Well, the answer, perhaps unsatisfactorily is… it can go either way.
I’ve now entered into what I have referred to is as the sweet spot of motherhood. All my kids can wipe themselves, get dressed and keep themselves more or less clean. They go to school seven hours a day, and there is way more time for me to do things for me. They can participate in competitive sports, which keeps weekends busy, but entertaining. And they are funny around the dinner table in their own rights, as their unique senses of humor have blossomed. I’ve given myself permission to have more fun. Fun with my kids. Turns out, mothering can still be lots of pressure, but we don’t have to forget the fun.
Different is beautiful.
Then why is it we are all trying so hard to fit in? Why do we compare. Try to be like or even believe we’d be better if we were more like “them.” In every season of each of our lives we will be tempted to believe the worlds perspective and it’s opinions. You are not smart, you are too fat, your hair is to straight, too curly. You are too girly, you aren’t girly enough. You laugh loud, you talk loud. You need to speak up.
