Books

We do what we can with what we have

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I subscribe to Runner’s World, and when I came across the story of this precious man, I started reading and could not look away from my screen. By the end of the article, there were tears streaming down my face. Against all odds, somehow we all do what we can with what we have each day. Sometimes though I think we have to look at the stories of others to get over ourselves. Bret Dunlap is a man with a story. He has persevered in life, after doctors did not think he would live. He has made a life for himself and eventually that life led to him running.

You hear of that many times, someone is in an accident and almost dies, and somehow is able to come back and kick ass at life. What we do not always see is that it is not easy, that sometimes even against all odds life is harder than one could ever imagine. Bret’s story inspires me. It inspires me to want to do more. My body was not shattered. When I complain about the slightest of pains after a run, or just on a normal day, I need to think of Bret. I cannot even imagine what his path was like to rehabilitation. Have you read his story yet?

If not, you might think my blog today is rambling on, but I hope you take the time to read it. It will make you look at your day differently. It will make you appreciate your legs and your toes, and your back, and your feet. It will make you appreciate that people do not look at you funny. It will make you look at the things you are scared of and maybe take a risk and go and do them. Yes, we do what we can with what we have, but maybe, just maybe we should do more than we can with what we have. Maybe we should push ourselves harder because we can.

Hiding behind my book

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I probably should have known when I was in elementary school that I had a voracious desire to investigate, learn, and make connections. Maybe it started with my passion for Encyclopedia Brown books. I made it my mission to try to solve the case and learn about any nuances before finishing the book. That has fueled me for many years to come. I love learning new things, finding pieces of information that are missing in a story, and piecing together how each aspect is interconnected with another.

Books would suck me in. I could learn about the drama, excitement, and sometimes boredom of someone else’s life. I could try to guess what I think the author would do, and if they did not, what I would do if I was the author. Was that just a thing I did growing up? Recently I read a brilliant memoir by Julia Sweeney (think “It’s Pat” on Saturday Night Live), called: “It’s Not One Thing, It’s Your Mother.” I laughed a lot, and was impressed not only with her life, but the humor that came out in her writing. This quote from her book made me think of my own childhood:

“While I didn’t like most of my classes at school, I did love to read, always imagining myself as the heroine in a story. I thought being Anne Shirley, the spunky orphan in the Anne of Green Gables series, might be less stressful than dealing with my father’s moods. I identified with Frances Nolan in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and her loving but turbulent relationship with her head-in-the-clouds father. But my most recent favorite was Are you There God? It’s Me, Margaret. I was positive I’d get my period any day.” page 36

My sister might have actually read the entire Anne of Green Gables series, but since I was her constant tag-a-long I saw all the movies with her. Since I was more of a Barbie girl, then a get lost in the field and dream about Gilbert Blythe, I still related to the cantankerous attitude of the sassy red-head. There were times when I would think living in that era would be much easier than my own childhood, or joining the group of girls in The Babysitter’s Club would make all my worries go away.

Just as I would hide under the covers with a flashlight so I could stay up reading, or sneak away to another part of the house to try to get out of chores, books were my solace, comfort, and adventure. Whether I hid behind my book, or let my book launch me into the world of detectives, popularity, or the lust of Gilbert Blythe, I was and will always be transformed by those words on the page.

Why worry?

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I recently finished a novel that was a bit odd. I am not sure I can even try to explain the storyline, but it was different enough that it kept my interest. The book was titled: “The Family Needed” by Steven Amsterdam. One of the quotes that resonated with me (even if it was just for the story of a novel) was:

“All I mean is there is no profit in worrying. By the time you get where you’re going, the story will have changed anyway.”

What a great quote for everyday life, and so true. By the time we agonize over what we are worrying about the moment, hour, day has already changed. The story has changed. Why not just focus on the good that is happening right now, and stop worrying about the future? I am one that easily can worry. Will we be safe? Will we have enough money to cover that unexpected expense? What will they think? How will they treat me? Will I be prepared?

There are so many ways we can worry about the future. Whether about a sibling, our job, a child, friend, or parent, there is so much to worry about each and every day. What if your focus and thought was different? What if…you remembered that you had no control over the future, you only have control over right now. You could choose to enjoy the present moment, hour, day. You could choose to have that hard conversation with your friend, or decide to not let their life decisions bother you.

What story will you change, and what story will you let go of today?

Cheating on our DVR

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We have been cheating on our DVR this past month.

Not all DVRs are created equal. Some let you record a certain number of hours of television shows. If you decide you have to watch that show in high-definition then that means fewer hours available for other shows. Our current DVR allows us to record two shows at the same time, while also watching an already recorded show. What that means for us? We often have missed out on a good series and did not even know it because we were consistently addicted to season [fill in the number] of [fill in the show name].

Many of you may be fans of Netflix. We have not yet ventured into that avenue of endless hours of shows and movies. We might one day. I tell Chris that when we catch up on our DVR, we can think about Netflix. What is the second best thing to our DVR, and those of your that are Netflix fans? My local library. Call me a dork, but who cares! They are free, and all I have to do is be patient. The time I waited has finally come to fruition, as we have spent the last month watching season One and Two of: The Good Wife. How did I ever miss out on such a great show?

There were times growing up and after college when I thought I would go to law school. Somehow it never happened and I often think I would have been doomed if I forked over the cash, mostly because I hate reading fine print. So law school would have been like the hell of a privacy policy. I wanted to be a lawyer to help, but there was a small part of me that wanted to be a lawyer to duke it out in the courtroom. Which is why I really enjoy The Good Wife. Such good story lines, great courtroom, lawyer, and judge interactions, with a little romance to top it off. I actually think I like watching the episodes back-to-back rather than having to wait a week to find out what happens. Oh, and who does not like watching Chris Noth. (I am a Mr. Big fan).

While waiting for Season Three of The Good Wife to be available at the library, we started watching: The New Girl (Season One). I am not really a Zooey Deschanel fan, so I thought this show would be cheesy. I was wrong. The show is quirky, funny, and clever. I am a fan. I wish I had known about it earlier, as I saw yesterday that Season Two just finished. Guess I will have to wait a while to see it.

We will stop cheating on our DVR…soon.

Making sense of the world

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We tell the stories of our lives to remember, laugh, and ponder where we have been and where we are going. We learn from each other, grow, and try not to make the same mistakes. Stories enrich us. We hear how someone else moves about the world, how they interact with their family and friends, and how they endure the good times and the bad. We laugh with them, we cry with them, and we relate in ways we sometimes cannot imagine.

I just finished reading: “If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Your Mother” by Julia Sweeney. If you are not familiar with Julia, she was “It’s Pat” on Saturday Night Live. Her book is a memoir and heavily focuses on her experience adopting a daughter from China. She is a blunt and humorous writer. I appreciated reading her book. It is just raw, real, and to the point. Her comments about telling stories resonated with me:

“I think my urge to perform, and specifically to perform true stories from my own life, is my way of coping. Just like alcohol is for some people. But the storytelling urge is not particular to the Irish. It’s in everyone. In fact it’s how our brains, every single one of our brains–not particular to any ethnicity–makes sense of the world. We tell ourselves how it all went, how this happened and how that happened and how it could happen in the future.” page 238

Is that what storytelling is for each of us? A litany of events, dates, and experiences that we tell as we make sense of the world? Yes, and so much more. I often write to make sense of my world. As the words come out of my fingertips I often connect thoughts and ideas and have aha moments. I realize what bothers me, find solutions to problems, and feel gratitude for the good parts of my day.

For me looking back at my past, at the stories of my life, help me to better understand myself and how I tick. Since both of my parents have passed on, and my grandparents are gone, I am on my own to put the pieces of my past together. I have asked my sister or brother how they remember an event, and yet their memory is much different from my memory of a specific event. That makes sense, as we each look out from our own perspectives. Since I cannot call my mom up and ask her about my first words, or how I handled a specific event in my life, I have to rely on my own memories. They may be flawed or off from the actual details but in the end, it is still the story I remember that has molded me into who I am today. As biased as my perspective might be, the feelings I had in each experience shaped how I handled future events.

Our story, our view on the world, is how we make sense and process who we are. Keep telling your story.