A Saturday slump. And goodbye, Facebook.

13 Apr

Sometimes I think quitting facebook would be a really, really wise decision.  I read this article the other day and it has stuck with me – Instagram’s Envy Effect.   If you don’t want to read it, allow me to summarize.  When people post on social media [instagram, facebook, etc.], people share a partial truth about their lives.  A perfect family photo … but not the fight that happened five minutes before.  The perfectly decorated party … but not the mess that came afterwards.  Etc, etc.  It’s so true.  I don’t instagram photos of hacked sewing jobs before I take the seam ripper to them.

The other part of this equation is that we refresh our twitter/facebook/instagram feeds [I’m guilty of all three.] when we’re bored or feeling sad or lonely [yup, occasionally all three].  Right?

When you’re laughing at a meal with friends, are you scrolling through Pinterest? When you’re in labor with your much-prayed-for-deeply-loved child, are you checking to see what’s happening on Instagram? Of course not. We check in with our phones when it seems like nothing fun is happening in our own lives—when we’re getting our oil changed or waiting for the coffee to brew.

It makes sense, then, that anyone else’s fun or beauty or sparkle gets under our skin. It magnifies our own dissatisfaction with that moment. When you’re waiting for your coffee to brew, the majority of your friends probably aren’t doing anything any more special.

But it only takes one friend at the Eiffel Tower to make you feel like a loser.

This happened to me this morning.  I already wasn’t looking forward to my day.  There were a couple things on my to-do list that weren’t real high on my I-want-to-spend-my-Saturday-doing-this scale.   I checked facebook only to find glimpses of more people engaged, more people having cute babies, and more people traveling and doing fun things while I faced my Saturday with less than any enthusiasm.  One more real life example of what the article articulated.

That being said, I’m not quitting facebook.  But you won’t see me there any too often.  We’re going to spend some time apart.  I think it will be good for me.  And then I’ll have more time to do other stuff.  Like go to quilt shops and go for walks with Mabel and call my mommy, all of which I did today and all of which were very good additions to my Saturday.  See, it wasn’t all bad.  But at 8am this morning when I was catching up with facebook happenings – those small, perfect glances into friends’ and acquaintances’ lives that make mine feel boring and behind compared to my age demographic – you would have thought the world was ending by my reaction.  Enough of that, lady.

Enough of that.

Friday favorites?

12 Apr

Not in the traditional sense this week.  My Friday  was spent in two of my favorite places, neither being this computer compiling links and lists of favorite things.  Two places –

1. My sewing room.  Suddenly, in the last week, there has been a project on the design wall that grew and grew and I couldn’t stop working on it.  The quilt is now on my dining room table, ready to be sandwiched with batting by millions of safety pins.  It was going to be a quilt I give away but that jury is out; I’m kinda in love with it.  Especially the back.  [Not shown.  Cliffhanger!]

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2.  The elementary school.  You know last week when I complained about not being a needed volunteer in first grade anymore?  About an hour after I published that post, I received a phone call.  Could I please come in?  There was a big project and they needed my help.  Of course!  I went to the elementary school and traced about twenty first graders on a very large roll of paper.  I traced and then they cut themselves out.  [It takes longer than you think to trace a kid or twenty!]  Today I had to go back to finish up the last fifteen kids or so.

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That was my Friday, about to be rounded out by old episodes of The Office, red wine, and a skype date with some of my favorite people who live in Montana.  How was your Friday?

This week –

9 Apr

I’m trying to be a better, healthier, more whole-food eater and trying all sorts of things as a result.  Salads in jars, more Thai chicken quinoa, date-and-peanut-balls, and HOMEMADE GRANOLA BARS.  That’s in caps because – holy shit – they are delicious.  It might be the coconut oil.  And the dried cherries.  And a little bit of sesame.

The other part of my better, healthier being is figuring out my sleep.  Goal: In bed reading at 10.  Lights out at 10:30.  That goal has failed in execution more than it has been successful.  The early bedtime was instated because I can’t. get. out. of. the. bed. in. the. morning.  Ever.  But really I just end up sleeping more because I go to bed early and still stay in bed just as late.  Enter new app.  It’s pretty cool and wakes me up within the best place for waking in my sleep cycle.

The better, healthier Lindsay is also – thanks to awareness from her counselor – becoming aware of her distorted thinking.  Distorted thinking is when I am hard on myself, when I assess situations to be all or nothing, when I discard compliments I receive as not true.  Distorted thinking is basically how my brain works so it’s being aware of my negative thoughts, turning them around, and “telling the negative committee inside my head to shut up.”

That’s my week, along with meetings, two-hour long pastoral visits [I need to work on leaving.], rain, and hanging with confirmation kids.  How’s your week?

Friday Favorites.

5 Apr

How is it Friday already?

Fridays became sad today.  I received an email from one of the first grade teachers whose class I volunteer with on Friday afternoons.  For the rest of the year, their Friday afternoons will look different with some new rotational lessons between the classes.  Therefore, Lindsay is no longer needed.  I actually teared up a bit when I read it [proof I’m hanging by a string here, people].  I looked forward to that hour and a half each week.  I’m bummed.  I have my sub license in so subbing on Fridays is a possibility too … but no calls for that yet.

In an attempt to be more uplifting –

Here.*

Here.**

And here.***

 

* Are you an introvert who sometimes dreads dinner parties?  *raises hand*

** I made this for dinner on Tuesday night and it was delicious.  It will be a standard in my kitchen.

*** Sewing, meet golf.

 

That’s all.  I’m not very exciting today.  Maybe next week!

The Giant Mechanical Man and broken teeth.

30 Mar

Have you heard of The Giant Mechanical Man?  It’s a movie.  A delightful one.  It streams on Netflix if that helps you out, and is one my sister would definitely characterize as a Lindsay movie.  [Read: Indie-ish, odd, not mainstream.]

 

In the movie – in addition to a whole lot of other stuff happening with silver face paint and scenes at a zoo [I’m totally selling it, right? <sarcasm>] – two of the main characters have the same dream.  A dream about their teeth falling out.

I saw this movie weeks ago when Paige & Karen & I had a sleepover at the ROG B&B but it kept replaying in my mind this week again as my own teeth began falling out.  … say what?

Okay.  Not multiple teeth and not even a whole tooth.  It was Maundy Thursday and I had just gone to get the mail from the mailbox.  I was chewing gum.  La di da.  Sorting mail.  Blowing bubbles.  Opening letters.  Chomp, chomp, cho –

There is suddenly something very hard in my gum.  Upon further investigation, it’s a part of a tooth and it’s disgusting.  [Luckily, it doesn’t hurt.  A corner of a molar.  I have an appointment next week to get it checked out.]  Last year on Maundy Thursday, my heel broke during worship.  This year, apparently, it’s my teeth.  Should we cast lots for what breaks next year?  Maybe an arm or a leg?

Friday Favorites: Yellow

29 Mar

I sit here, drinking my coffee.  Not yet showered or ready for the noon Good Friday service of which I am a part.  I sit here, envious of my sister and cousins and aunt and uncle who are in Chicago for the day.  I wish I was there with them.  I sit here, ready for an empty tomb.  I’ll be heading home to WI after our two Easter services for the briefest of brief visits.  Sometimes being a grown-up isn’t that much fun at all.

I sit here, preparing myself to share with you the most favorite things I’ve come across this week.  With the full moon that popped in the night sky and the sun that has begun to shine once again, you’ll sense a theme.  Yellow, yellow, yellow.

Classic lemon tart.  This sounds beyond delicious and quite simple, actually.

Cap’n Crunch is yellow.  Ever thought about coating French toast with it?  Crunchy French toast with Cap’n Crunch coating.  I’m so serious.  Will someone please come sleepover at my house so we can try it?  Pleeease?  [I’m a closet Cap’n Crunch lover.  Growing up we had two kinds of cereal in our house: rice crispies and corn flakes.  But if I ever was over at someone’s house with Cap’n Crunch, oh boy.]

Maybe yellow will be the color of my kayak.  My friend, Sara, and I are officially registered for an overnight kayak trip in the Apostle Islands this summer.  We are so super excited!  Now I need to buy a sleeping bag … and rain gear … maybe a tent …

How cute is the DIY dog bed?  It would need to be a pretty large one for Mabel, the giant yellow lab, but it’s still a super cute idea.

Last but not least – it’s not overly yellow but it goes with the weekend.  Happy Easter, friends.

Connections.

27 Mar

This post begins with the connection between Rachel Held Evans and Henri Nouwen.

That sentence might make you say who?  Rachel Held Evans is the theologian and author of the book I quoted just a while ago on the blog.  Henri Nouwen was a theologian and priest; an author of many, many books, one of which I too just quoted a bit ago here.  I follow Rachel on twitter and read her blog.  I have more than a couple Nouwen books on my shelves and I pull them out from time to time; I find them full of enriching nuggets of faith and comfort.

This week, these two separate worlds collided in a super meaningful way.  I clicked on a tweet from Rachel with a link to her recent blog post; she’s been facilitating a discussion on gay marriage on her blog and using two separate books to guide the conversation. Both books are by gay men of faith but while one has chosen celibacy, the other believes a relationship with another man could be blessed by God.  [Curious more?  Here is the post of which I speak.]

Here is where my mind was blown: one of the books Rachel uses speaks of dear Mr. Nouwen at length.  I did not know that Nouwen was gay; heck, I didn’t even know that he was a priest before I began to eavesdrop on this conversation.  I knew that I loved his writing and that was about it.  But now, as it turns out, I love it more because I can relate to the places from which it comes.

Henri Nouwen was lonely.  He wrestled intensely with loneliness, persistent cravings for affection and attention, immobilizing fears of rejection, and a restless desire to find a home where he could feel safe and cared for. [p. 87]  To quote Rachel who quotes the book which quotes Philip Yancey –

Nouwen, who later in life confessed that he had known since he was six years old that he was attracted to members of his own sex, would, in lectures and books, “speak of the strength he gained from living in community, then drive to a friend’s house, wake him up at two in the morning, and, sobbing, ask to be held.”

Now granted, I am fully aware that I am not a celibate gay priest [really?  really.], nor am I in the least  marginalized because of my sexual orientation, but gosh, to some degree, I can relate to that.

I have begun the very healthy and wise practice of seeing a counselor.  We’ve only met twice but I can see why people do this.  It will be fruitful.  Just this last time we met, I was talking about something or other and her response to me was, It sounds like you’re lonely.  Bingo.

I’m still not super sure what to do about that besides – for some insane reason – choosing to be super vulnerable with the world and spill it on the blog.  [As if you didn’t already know.]  Knowing what I do about Henri Nouwen and as I google search and order his biography to learn more, I find myself drawn to his writing in deeper ways.  There are perhaps some other life changes looming on my horizon, too. I realize that I need to facilitate the move from being lonely; I think I’m working on it.  We’ll see where life takes me; hopefully in the direction of community, new friends, and a world of less lonely.

Coffee with ladies and egg crafts.

26 Mar

After a busy Sunday morning of palm waving, hosanna singing, and personal care kit assembling, I went to the local care center to lead a worship service.  I gave them palms and then had coffee with a couple of ladies.  They fought and interrupted each other often.  [In the middle of one woman telling me about her great-granddaughter the other woman asked her loudly, “Are you going to get cremated?”]  It made me very uncomfortable.

Sunday night we [you know – we] gathered in our usual place at our usual time.  I was even early enough to read a story to a cute little almost-one year old before he went to bed.  We [you know – we] ate supper and then dove into egg crafts.  We had traditional dying on one end of the table [after we figured out what colors the pesky little tablets were] and filling hollow eggs with candy at the other.  It was egg-citing, egg-cellent, and an all around egg-ceptional time.

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game night (and an updated blog).

24 Mar

Three college friends – plus a spouse, a daughter, and a boyfriend – and I planned a night together last Friday.  We met in St.Paul and had only one goal : wear crazy hats.

It’s a game we played a lot in college and also in seminary.  The Great Dalmuti is its name and it requires crazy hats.  Friday night we had a lime green cowboy hat, an Arizona Wildcats foam hat, a bear headband, a hood, and my mother’s wedding hat from 1980.  Depending upon how well you do in each round, you may get to wear a really awesome hat or you may be forced to wear a really crappy hat.  [The wedding hat was declared to be the least great of the five; sorry, mom.]

We also played a little Spot It, ate pizza, and drank hard cider.  Our next get-together is on the calendar for May; we live too close to not get together more often and wear ridiculous hats.

As an aside, you may notice the blog looks different [again].  Surprise!  It was my sermon procrastination technique for Saturday night … I hope it’s easy to navigate and pleasing to your eyes.

Hey. It’s the favorites of Friday.

22 Mar

[Hey.  It’s the favorites of Friday.]

Favorite tea: Apple cinnamon.   It’s now part of my bedtime routine.  Tea + a chapter of Pride and Prejudice.

Favorite blog post: This post is by the former pastor at my home congregation.  It resonated with me and where I’m at currently.   Worship is a contact sport.  I probably wouldn’t be a pastor if Pastor Clint hadn’t nominated me for a scholarship at seminary … before I ever said I would even go to seminary.  Funny how that worked.

Favorite craft: It’s quite nearly Easter.  I love Easter.  Loved it since I was a child.  [Fun Lindsay fact #396: I used to host “Easter parties” at the farm for my friends.  I would plan elaborate Easter games and my brothers & cousins would hide Easter eggs for us to find, usually under dead birds or with the candy switched mysteriously for dog poop.]  Sadly, I have little energy or people with whom to have Easter parties these days … but if I did, we might dye eggs in these trendy ways.

Favorite story: I visited a gentleman at the care center.  I was getting ready to leave, shook his hand, and told him I should be on my way.  Good, he said.  I was going to ask you to leave because I have to pee.  Perfect timing.

Favorite pin: A quote from Lemony Snicket.

Favorite videos: This Sunday is Palm Sunday.  Prepare yourself for Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with these two videos.  Please.  They’re awesome.

This video was made in part by the talents [both media and harlem shaking as Jesus] by Kevin, the brother to my bestie, Sara, and a former coworker of mine from Stillwater.  We shared a basement office with no windows together.

Nothing like a little liturgical dance by Stephen Colbert. 

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