Beyond the Status Line

March 31, 2014April 6, 2014 ~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 4 Comments

Do Facebook status lines ever pop up in your head? Or maybe you have something cross your mind and think, “Hey, that would make a good tweet”?

Just like television news helped our attention spans shrink down to “sound bites,” it looks like our love of social media is training our brains to share in 140 character life snippets. Or at least that’s what we frequently present to the world.

Oh, but there’s so much more…right?

Everyone’s got a story…and it’s a helluva lot richer than any Facebook status, Instagram filtered photo, or even series of tweets can do justice to. Don’t get me wrong—I love “the Facebook” and “the Twitter”—but we must not fool ourselves into thinking we know people through these mediums. We can know more about them but not truly know them.

I’ve written before about how social media filters our lives, but I want to go beyond that here.

Beyond the status line.

“Real” life offers us a chance to look people in the eye and ask them how they are…but often it goes something like this:

“Hey, how are you?”
“Fine. How ‘bout yourself?”
“Pretty good. You have a good one.”
“Yeah, you, too.”
And…scene.

Maybe that’s why so many of us love Facebook—I have to admit that in the years I’ve been on it, I’ve never seen a status that says, “Today I’m fine.” No…people typically share a specific something, be it a fun moment of the day or a frustration or where they are enjoying a meal…We get a glimpse into a detail of their lives.

But it is a glimpse—and a crafted one at that.

Here's a little something I shared a while back. — Here’s a little something I shared a while back.

What is the real story? Beyond the “I’m fines” and the pictures of spring break excursions lurks…real life.

I’m a big fan of real life. It’s messy and chaotic and often quite hard.

But it’s real.

In between getting the work done one night at one of my part-time jobs, I learned about a single dad’s journey to take care of his daughter, a family’s anguish over having to make a choice about life support for a loved one, a man struggling to be a good role model to his seven kids, a young woman trying to find her way in life, and a friend’s hospital stay.

And I wasn’t pretending to be Barbara Walters by asking probing questions—I just paid attention and listened.

Obviously, each and every one of their stories helped me to know them better. To understand that their lives have complications and challenges that, while they may not be similar to mine, are something that I can connect with and share in. We talked beyond the status line.

While I may not have that many stories shared with me every day, it does amaze me how much I can learn about someone just by being interested and listening.

Everyone has a story…a life…that is layered and multi-faceted and…theirs. And we need to remember that when it may seem like others are skipping through life without a care, leaving us feeling like “they” have their acts together and “we” don’t.

Life is hard. It can be downright exhausting, overwhelming, and scary. And while some may seem to have it “easier” or “better” than others, life isn’t supposed to be a competition, is it?

I’ve never understood the joy some people have over seeing a Justin Bieber or a Lindsay Lohan struggle or fail. Someone’s downfall doesn’t inherently raise anyone else up. Why the delight? I have no idea what it must be like to be so famous, but I bet it isn’t as awesome as many people assume. At least I know my friends like me for who I am (or more accurately in spite of that) and not what I can do for them. What must it be like to never know if people love you just because you’re you? I bet it’s damn hard.

Maybe that grass is greener…and maybe not.

Everyone’s grass can be green…or brown…or trampled on from time to time. Everyone’s grass needs nurturing. Everyone’s grass thrives with some care and watering and weeding.

We should rejoice not only in our own green grass, but the rest of the world’s rolling green lawns, too. I mean, why not? Doesn’t it just make for a more beautiful world?

But I digress. (Now that most of the snow is gone (for now…trust me, I’m not taking it for granted) I guess my mind is stuck on the green of spring!)

Sometimes the “I’m fines” are all we’re up to offering, I know. I totally get that. While I’ve always been a pretty good ear for others to bend, I’m but a youngster in the world of vulnerability. It’s not easy—but I am learning that it is critical in truly connecting with those I love, so I’m working on it.

But some days even 140 characters is more than I want to share.

I guess that what I aim to encourage here is that we remember that what we see in the world around us probably isn’t the full story…and the full story is worth knowing.

That beyond the succinct status lines of life, the full story can lead us to understand that we are not alone in this world. That while our blessings and challenges may be different, we still share in them…and can encourage one another…and lift one another up.

And that makes the grass greener for the whole wide world.

Perpetual Reinvention

March 24, 2014 ~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 6 Comments

I came to understand somewhat early in my life that it was meant to be lived in chapters. After all, the first couple decades of our lives are structured that way—elementary school, high school, hopefully college…and then we are able to launch into “real” life, right?

I remember my freshman year of college was the first time that I had to face “disrupting” a chapter and understand that…it was okay. I was attending a university that, while an incredibly crazy ball of fun, wasn’t really meeting my academic needs. I recall lying on my day bed in my dorm room thinking, “But you can’t change schools…you have too many sweatshirts from THIS college…” Thankfully, I heard my own pathetic reasoning and knew it was time to move on.

As life would have it, my moving back to Chicago and living in the city meant that a couple years later, when my dad would become terminally ill, I would be a short drive away from home. Funny how life plays out, isn’t it?

But even though I knew early on about my “life chapters,” I still thought that someday I would get “there”…wherever the hell that meant.

As I grow older, though, I see that there is no “there.” There is only “here for now” and wondering what my next right step should be. The wiser me smiles at the naïve me who thought that once things fell into place, I would then have some stability.

But there is no stability. At least not in worldly things.

I see this all around me. So many people I know are going through major transitions. Loss of jobs…divorces…health crises…family issues…home foreclosures…loss of loved ones…

And while there is great fear and anxiety over all of these changes and challenges, there is also grace, courage, and faith to be found, too.

For we can see our past and let it inform our present and future. We can strive to choose better, even though our hard fought wisdom reminds us we are not in control.

For me and my family, this current chapter is stretching us in ways that we never planned. Since my husband’s job loss last year, we are slapping fear in the face and working to chart our own course by launching his firm. Most days the fear slaps right back (and she has one helluva backhand), but we truly believe this is the next right thing for us.

It is anything but easy…yet the beauty comes from the rays of light that find their way to us through the darkness.

Working together with my husband to start this new chapter has helped us grow together in ways that were not there before he lost his job. From trusting one another and God that this is what we should do to cultivating a new rhythm to our days, we are stronger than we were before.

(Don’t get me wrong—there are days we want to kill each other. Thankfully the sharp tools are too hard to quickly get to on those days.)

Yes, in the struggles of so many, there is grace, courage, and faith…

…for those who are going through change and realizing that they have strength that they didn’t know they had, or those who are working hard to heal old wounds and grow past them, or those who are striving to create new lives in new places with all new faces…

I see the grit and grace, the courageous heart, the surrender to faith.

Our life chapters can often resemble the blacksmith working his iron…putting us in the fire until we are so white-hot we can then be shaped into our next chapter of purpose. And if we cool down and need a new purpose? Stick us in the fire again.

The hammering hurts like hell, but when we come through it, we are renewed (right?) and ready for our next task.

Yet even though I try hard to understand and find the meaning of life’s trials, I am really just a girl who is ready for a break from the hammering.

But I know better. I know there is more to come, and all I can do is use that understanding to do my best to prepare for whatever unknown chapter is on the horizon.

Here for now, wondering what’s next…bracing and hoping all the same.

Remembering the “Brutal” in Being “Brutally Honest”

March 17, 2014March 14, 2025 ~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 6 Comments

I am a huge fan of honesty. If there was an honesty fan club, I think I might even run for vice president (president would be too much work—I’m just setting my hypothetical goals realistically). I’ve noticed several people lately, though, speak of themselves as being “brutally honest.”

I’m not such a fan of that.

It seems to me to be an attempt to cloak rudeness and a lack of compassion as a virtue that isn’t merited.

I can’t believe I’m about to incorporate the TV show “The Bachelor” into one of my posts, but…here I go. Recently the reality TV world was caught by storm by the charismatic Juan Pablo. He was supposed to be this great catch—a loving single father with a great body and a suave personality.

And a whole lot of heart, right?

Wrong.

At least not the way I saw it. Time after time, he would say things that ranged from not nice to flat out offensive and couch it as honesty. “I’m just being honest…” was a frequent phrase that slipped out of his mouth after words that were, if not hurtful, certainly not a feel-good.

I think I might feel less frustration with Juan Pablo’s attitude if he could take what he dished out, but it certainly didn’t come off that way. When two of the women had critical things to say of him, he either ignored their comments or said his other catch phrase of “It’s okay…” and then, when they were out of earshot, made a cutting remark about each of them. Don’t use a shield of “honesty” if it only works one way. (I say this aware of the way reality TV can craft a story through editing. Perhaps JP had moments that we didn’t see that showed him in a kinder light, but seeing him speak live, I think giving this benefit of the doubt is a reach.)

Saying whatever you want without a filter and then chalking it up to honesty isn’t okay.

And, conversely, NOT saying whatever you want without a filter doesn’t equal dishonesty. We get that, right?

This doesn’t mean that one should not speak the truth in love, but we need to remember the “in love” part, don’t you think?

In this era of amazingly hurtful and hateful comments on the Internet, I am worried that we are touting brutal honesty as a positive when all it really is is…brutal.

I see this in “real” life, too. Over the weekend, an acquaintance of mine—a really nice guy—turned and said to a young woman, “You have lipstick on! It looks good.” She beamed, and then he continued, “You know, your lips are too thin.” She immediately looked down and agreed with him, tried to explain what she does to overcome it, and then walked away.

He saw the WTF? look on my face and said, “I can’t help it—I’m just honest.” I then proceeded to try and get him to see that while it’s lovely he gives compliments so freely, he doesn’t need to give criticisms in the same manner. I’m not convinced it registered with him.

We have enough negatives in this world without people feeling compelled to be “brutally honest” and thinking it’s an admirable trait—particularly when it is unsolicited.

Honesty is critically important, for sure, but it doesn’t mean we can then thoughtlessly eschew compassion or courtesy in the name of truth (or, more accurately, the truth as we see it).

We absolutely need honesty–but we need to remember that that does not mean saying whatever we feel like whenever we want to.

Imagine a world where everyone said whatever they wanted no matter who they might hurt or offend—oh, wait—I already mentioned the world of Internet commenting. I don’t know about you, but I rarely let myself read comments on the Net because it hurts my heart that people think it’s okay to treat one another like that.

It is not okay.

And I don’t for the life of me understand why some people think it IS okay. Maybe I’m just too sensitive, but if that’s the case, I’d rather be too sensitive than a jerkwad.

Saying whatever you want does not equal the truth–it equals you saying whatever you want.

All we need to do is think about our own lives and what words help and what words hurt…and then work to offer the helping ones instead of the hurting ones. This is not to say that we should only say words of feel-good fluff and lightness, but rather to think before we speak. Is it a criticism that is asked for? Does it really need to be said? Will it cause someone hurt? Is it anything that the person can change? Does it have a shot at making things better? Worse?

I think back to what a different impact the “lip” conversation would have had without the unsolicited criticism attached to it. Instead of the girl walking away with shoulders slumped, feeling bad about something she has no control over, she would have kept that smile going a lot longer.

Granted, it’s not our responsibility to fill everyone’s esteem tank, but it sure makes the world a more beautiful place when we choose to do so, and we remember that the choice to be brutally honest is often just another way of being brutal to one another.

We can be so much better than that.

Recalculating the Best Laid Plans

March 10, 2014 ~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 2 Comments

“You know what the three most exciting sounds in the world are? Anchor chains, plane motors, and train whistles.” Now, before you go rolling your eyes at another post of mine that incorporates It’s a Wonderful Life in it, just give me a chance.

As my regular readers may know, I feel strongly about this film for many reasons— in fact, I’m pretty sure I could write a book on all that this movie speaks to me about life, and maybe someday I will.

But today I want to talk about how life plays out so differently from what we may plan.

I don’t know about you, but when I was young, I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted my life to look like. So did George Bailey. In fact, his plan was similar to mine…

“I know what I’m gonna do tomorrow and the next day and the next year and the year after that,” he told his then unbeknownst-to-him future wife, Mary. “I’m shaking the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I’m gonna see the world!”

When I was a year or two younger than the age George was when he uttered those lines, I was in college thinking about what market I would start my career in. My plan was to work in television or film production and go anywhere the work would take me. I distinctly remember driving through Nashville on a trip and thinking, “this seems like it could be a good place to start…”

But within months, the turn my life was about to take would make that thought unimaginable.

In a little over a year from thinking Nashville might be the place for me, my dad would be diagnosed with cancer and pass into life eternal.

While George’s world became holding down the fort of the Bailey Bros Building and Loan after his dad died, I had other, less tangible forts of my own to hold down.

And neither George nor I shook the dust and saw the world the way we planned.

So what did we do?

Truth is, depending on the day, the answer varies.

As life plays itself out, there is meaning to be made of the twists and turns of our best laid plans. But there is also frustration and even resentment that God is not following the directions on my turn-by-turn navigation.

I mean, come on—I had some great ideas! And, truthfully, the fact that God has better ideas is not always easily identifiable.

Where my itinerary had travel and adventure, God’s had responsibility and sacrifice. Mine still sounds way more fun, doesn’t it?

And there are many, many other twists and turns that continue to come my way, as there are for most of us. It seems like right when I get my new route together, I can hear God say “recalculating…”

And his path is not necessarily a smooth one. Bumps, potholes, hairpin turns…where am I headed?

This certainly does not mean that I am merely on a path with none of my own choices. No—we are not God’s robots—but it does mean that I need to acknowledge that I am not in actual control. I can only be responsible for me and not my circumstances.

I must simply do my best and trust that the ultimate Navigator is leading me to the Destination I was meant for. Something I could not see with just my own vision.

George learned that his little town was far from “crummy,” and that the impact he had was deeper than he ever knew or could have planned for.

And here I am, at a place in my life that I never would have planned for myself—juggling a myriad of life changes and challenging circumstances—needing to remember that my GPS is divine, and that I simply need to trust and take the next best turn laid out for me.

The Pope of Hope

March 7, 2014 ~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ Leave a comment

My Frabjous Friday goal is a short and sweet something that aims to bring a little smile or joy or hope to your day. Where does frabjous come from, you ask?

So there.

Okay, back to business…

I’m not Catholic, but I’m a huge fan of Pope Francis. In a world where the “religion” of Christianity is so often intertwined with the very opposite of the love of Jesus, Pope Francis is bringing new life to the role of the head of the Catholic church. People are starting to feel love where they haven’t before. This makes me happy.

People are seeing that the head of the largest Christian denomination is not only interested in law and doctrine, but love and mercy. This makes me happy.

He makes the news showing grace and humility instead of harsh judgment and pomposity. This makes me happy.

So today I just wanted to do a little shout out to Pope Francis and say thanks for the hope you are providing and the love you are showing. More power to you.

And right back at ya.

I Should Have Asked for a Horse

March 3, 2014 ~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 7 Comments

Though I don’t get sick a whole lot these days, I definitely did as a kid. The kind of sick where I would have to miss a week or two of school. It wasn’t very fun at all.

Thankfully, with the help of immunity boosters, I eventually grew out of it, and by my sophomore year of high school was ecstatic that I received my first perfect attendance certificate. My friends thought I was nuts to be happy about that, but I knew how wonderful it was to have that many days of health in a row.

But let’s get to the hamsters.

During one of my bouts of illness when I was about seven or eight, I needed to go to the emergency room because I wasn’t doing very well. While lying on the hospital bed, I watched my mom and dad talking to the doctor, and when my dad looked over at me, my little arm went up and a weak little finger wagged him over.

“What is it, Honey?” he asked. And in what must have been an awfully endearing yet pathetic moment, I mustered the energy to whisper, “Dad…can I please have a hamster?”

“Baby, you can have anything you want…” and he kissed my forehead and went back to the doctor. Though I was happy to have gotten the “yes” I wanted, I thought to myself, “Anything? Shoot, I should have asked for a horse!”

But it was the hamster I had asked for, and my dad kept his word.

Once well, we went to the pet store and picked out two hamsters—one for me, and one for my older sister.

They were just adorable—and so cute in their little Habitrail home and bubble ball to roam in.

But then the bloodshed came.

My sister’s hamster killed mine one day while I was at school. My mom took the remaining one back to the pet store and announced “I have a murderer in my car.” The clerk said he would take that one home and care for it while he replaced both hamsters for us.

We were back in business.

(Let me just make a side note and say that this wasn’t the first time my sister’s pet kicked the crap out of my pet. Before our hamster days, we had two dogs that “went to the farm” because her dog wouldn’t stop attacking mine. Hmmm. But that’s for another day.)

Back to the hamsters.

Our two new ones were off to a great start—until the male ate the brand new babies one morning. That was absolutely awful to find their chewed up little pink carcasses in the corner.

Who knew there was so much to learn about these little furballs?

After that episode, we read up on what to do when the female gives birth and then they had a successful litter. It was hard finding good homes for all of the hamsters when the time came, but it was a good lesson, too.

I guess you could call this the blissful period of our hamster days.

As time went on, the male died, and we only had Tinker, the mama, remaining with us. All was well, until one day when she just wasn’t moving. She appeared to be dead.

My dad felt awful as he realized that he had used an oil-based paint nearby where her Habitrail was, and that the fumes had probably killed her.

With great solemnity, he wrapped her in newspaper, placed her in the garbage, and told me about it. (Had I been the one to discover her, I would have fought for a proper burial!)

Late that night, my mom was reading the hamster book when she read that hamsters sometimes go into hibernation.

Though it was the middle of July, my mother and father dug the hamster out of the garbage, started a fire in the fireplace and placed her stiff little body near it to warm her and bring her back to life.

And they waited.

And waited.

Let’s just say little Tinker was in permanent hibernation.

This concluded the hamster chapter of our lives.

Yep, I should have asked for the horse.

Though the housing would have required much more than a Habitrail, I’m pretty sure that these other horrific occurrences would have been avoided, and I would have been riding free through the meadows of life.

Well…a girl can dream, can’t she?

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: