Humor

Would you be mortified?

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I write. It is what I do. It is what makes me feel grounded and balanced, and how I make sense of the world. I cannot remember when I started writing in a journal, but I have a bin or two in a closet that contains all my journals from over the years. I am now slightly inspired to go and find my earliest ones and see has my voice changed? I am sure it has.

So when a colleague told me the other day about “Mortified Nation” I had a nice chuckle. Mortified Nation is a documentary that has just been released where individuals read from their teenage journals. Some of them are funny, some depressing, and some will speak directly to the title: mortified. I am sure I have plenty of journal entries that fall into each of those categories, and some that might lead me down a path to what life truly was like back then. Of course we have our memories, but I wonder if even at a less mature age if the words that flowed from within were telling to what was really going on in our lives?

Would you be mortified to read our teenage journal aloud? What would we find out about you? That you hated your mom, and had a crush on a different boy a week? Who knows but these individuals are brave souls, unless they have the writing ability of David Sedaris’ or their raw honesty just rings a bell in our own nostalgic thoughts of the past.

The documentary was available on iTunes and Amazon on November 5, and in some local theaters over the next 2 weeks.

#timetounearthjournals

Being Me and Being Seen

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What does it mean to be me? Saying what is on my mind. Not having a filter. Laughing when the urge hits me, even when sometimes it might not be appropriate. Going there. Yes, I mean sometimes going there, to the gutter, and sometimes it is the wrong time. Listening wholeheartedly. Saying yes way too much. Rarely crying, but when it happens, it is because something hits my emotional core, or when someone sees and speaks to a raw part of myself.

I struggled so much during my childhood and even into my college years with being enough — wondering if I was enough. Was I pretty enough? Was I small enough? Was I smart enough? Was I good enough? Enough with all the enoughs. Eventually I got fed up. Eventually I lost it. Eventually I just wanted to be me.

As I got older, and I had the ability to see life in hindsight, I saw a little girl who loved children, who loved to be childlike, who wanted to play, but who had to keep life together and make sure that from the outside everything was okay. In many ways, having the facade of normalcy, was what she wanted. She just wanted to be normal, and in some ways trying to prove her life was normal concealed to those around her what was really happening. Sort of like a company that needs more employees, but rather than the current employees showing that, they just work harder and longer, instead of making it apparent that what was needed was more bodies and minds to help.

All this came to me after reading a recent blog post from Emily Parkinson Perry’s. I have shared her blog before, and her words are always an inspiration to me. This quote about authenticity made me think about being me.

“To me, being authentic means being unapologetically you. It means laughing out loud, accepting your faults, being present with pain, and okay with uncertainty. It means saying you’re sorry, or that you don’t know the answer. It means saying, ‘I love you’, and allowing yourself to drop into the free-fall feeling of it. It means allowing yourself to truly be seen.”

It took until I was a senior in college, but I finally understood that being me meant not hiding behind what others wanted of me, that I could be me as loud as I wanted without apology. And I am. I am loud, and sometimes emotional, opinionated, and strong-willed. I know what I want, and sometimes it is hard to get me to change my mind. Even if I am wrong. It is hard for me to say “I’m sorry” and I will always tell you if I do not know something. Then later she says:

“Your authenticity lies in the moments when you’re caught off-guard; when you blush at the compliment, laugh at your own mistake, or get caught singing in the car. Those are the precious gifts you give to the world—they are the moments when you let down your guard and allow yourself to be seen—you, as your beautiful, true, authentic self.  When you let yourself be seen, it gives others the courage to do the same, and the world needs more of that.”

I love, love, love this. It happened last week when a co-worker asked me something out of the blue. She saw me at my rawest, and that made me cry. Or when I said burger instead of booger, and Chris could not stop laughing at me. I was seen, and I laughed and I cried.

Pink shoes, bling, and your favorite sweater

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Ah, I like me a good book. One that invigorates, makes me think of my life in new and different ways, and of course it is a bonus when I do not want to put it down. Shauna Niequist does it again with “Cold Tangerines.” I recently wrote about her book, “Bread and Wine” and shared her Blueberry Crisp recipe. (If you have not tried it, I can assure you that you are missing out.) Both books are memoirs that weave God and faith into them, but not in over the top ways. She shares about life’s triumphs and challenges through the lens of goodness. I loved this analogy she shared comparing bling to how we should live our life each day:

“Today, humble Today, presents itself to us with all the ceremony and bling of a glittering diamond ring: Wear me, it says. Wear me out. Love me, dive into me, discover me, it pleads with us.” Page 10

As someone who is abusive to jewelry, constantly breaking clasps or earrings, I love, love, love this. I am constantly telling Chris that I do not know how I did it but there is a large-sized chunk taken out of my ring, and I do not remember what I must have hit to dig out such a crater. Call me absentminded. Oh well. If we were to approach life in the way I am with jewelry, my grandma would call me a bull in a china shop. Not a bad way to look at it, as it means we are living to the fullest. No dainty white gloves, tip toeing through each day.

I will leave you with another quote from Niequist that inspired me:

“I want a life that sizzles and pops and makes me laugh out loud. And I don’t want to get to the end, or to tomorrow, even, and realize that my life is a collection of meetings and pop cans and errands and receipts and dirty dishes. I want to eat cold tangerines and sing loud in the car with the windows open and wear pink shoes and stay up all night laughing and paint my walls the exact color of the sky right now. I want to sleep hard on clean white sheets and throw parties and eat ripe tomatoes and read books so good they make me jump up and down and I want my everyday to make God belly laugh, glad that he gave life to someone who loves the gift, who will use it up and wring it out and drag it around like a favorite sweater.” Page 234

Two nights ago I went to see a preseason Blazers game and saw such interesting individuals walking around the Moda Center. One especially caught my eye because she was dressed in the brightest neon pink from head to toe. In my opinion she looked hideous, not so much from the color, but what was not covered from her outfit. However, even though I made that judgement, a large grin spread across my face, because I thought: “She is wearing hot pink shoes, and does not care. You go girl.” Wear pink, sing with the windows down, and make God laugh, or whatever makes your heart sizzle.

 

Seeing the good

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A good friend shared this blog from “Hands Free Mama” on Facebook and I had to share. While it is written through the eyes of a mom about her daughter, I think the ideas can apply to anyone. A boss and employee, a colleague, a friend.

Her report card says: “Distracted in large groups.” Yet her mother sees how she notices everything about the world around her. “That man is texting and driving.” “Grandpa is slower than the rest of us. We should wait.” The mother realizes how aware her daughter is, how perceptive and observant she is. Her daughter asks what is on her report card, and the mother is honest. The daughter says: “Oh, I do look around a lot.” And, rather than make her daughter feel bad for her this report card, she says: “Yes, you noticed Carter sitting off by himself with a skinned knee on the field trip, and you comforted him.” (and a few other things.)

Please read the rest of her blog post. You might have a pool of tears in your eyes, because this mom gave her daughter a gift. A gift of seeing her daughter clearly, and not just what was printed on paper. She helped her to see how aware she was about the world around her. And, you are in for a surprise at the end. The haircut comment was just over the top for me. It made me hope that my future son or daughter was just as perceptive, and aware. I loved this thought too:

“Oh dear God. Yes. Yes. We are all just waiting for someone to notice–notice our pain, notice our scars, notice our fear, notice our joy, notice our triumphs, notice our courage. And the one who notices is a rare and beautiful gift.”

Do you notice that about your friends, co-workers, family? Have you given them a gift to notice what they are hiding, and what they are hoping you will find out about them? At the end of each day, all we ever want is to be loved. Can you take a step away from being cool, from being seen to seeing others, to making others feel cool, needed, wanted, and loved?

Try it.

 

Poo-pourri

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Are you curious just by the title? Chris found it the other day and knew I would be interested. Are you? I know a variety of individuals that have quite different public bathroom habits. There are some that will never step foot inside a public toilet. Others could care less, when they have to go, they have to go (I am of that variety). Of course there are public bathrooms that I would not want to step foot in, but hey when nature calls, I have to answer. There are yet others that will only use a public restroom if there is no one else they have to share it with while doing their business. Which is hard, because it might be empty when you start, and then you might be joined by one or many more in the neighboring stalls.

So when Chris shared Poo-pourri, I had a nice laugh. Honesty, I am not sure I really care to travel around with a bottle of Poo-pourri. I care less about the smell left behind as I do an unclean restroom. Having said that, I am a tad bit curious if it works. They say you Spritz and then Poo, and the essential odors mask the smell. Is that really possible? You will have to watch and see what you think, it has a Mad Men vibe.

So curious now? Two of my favorite lines: “How do you make the world believe that your poop doesn’t stink?” and “When your little astronauts splash down and make contact.”

Scents to try: Trap-A-Crap, Royal Flush, Shittin’ Pretty, Party Pooper, Doody Free, Heavy Doody