I Envy the Box Lady

January 27, 2014 ~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 2 Comments

I had a conversation this weekend that I must admit brought out great envy in me. Like if envy were people, I’d be China.

The green-eyed monster flared up when I was having a conversation with a woman I work with part-time. She was explaining to me how she had been working creatively…for hours and hours. Hours and hours, people. In the brief time that I’ve sat down to write this post, my son (home from school today because of the damn polar vortex) has interrupted me somewhere near 97 times.

Granted, she is retired (though very active), so her life tugs are understandably much different than mine. But she was explaining to me how she “needed something to do” with her time, and she ended up discovering this passion for designing beautiful boxes that are then used for care packages at the organization she and I are both part-timing at. [The place is called Phil’s Friends, and its mission is to bring hope to those affected by cancer. If you’ve got a hankering to do something with a few bucks and/or your time, go to their website and learn about the wonderful things they do.]

The work she does is lovely—fun and colorful, and just the right spirit to add to the loving care packages.

A sample of the Box Lady's work. — A sample of the Box Lady’s work.

She described to me how her kitchen table is splayed with boxes and she just gets lost in her work for hours at a stretch. I am amazed at the effort she puts into them. It is clearly her passion, and it brings her great joy.

I want to be like the Box Lady.

In my juggle-struggle world, I have forgotten what it is like to have time to fill. And if I do decide to wrap things up on any given night, about the most I can muster is watching TV and wiping the drool from my chin. Something tells me you might be able to relate.

I realize that the seasons of life offer different opportunities, but I could really use some focus time in this current season of my life. I want to have Box Lady experiences now.

I want to have a “snow” (aka “extreme cold”) day where instead of thinking of the HaveTos that need doing, I can immerse myself in an endeavor that brings me joy. Even if only for a little while.

And though I do make time to do things that are not just “on the list,” one of my biggest challenges is how I feel while doing them. For instance, as a writer, I do make time to write this blog. I could have more time for other HaveTos if I didn’t, but I need to write, so I do. But while I’m taking the time to do so, I keep battling all the other HaveTos that keep poking their way into my thoughts and making me feel like I need to stop. “Hurry up, Lisa. You are wasting your time. You need to get back to _____ and ____ and ____.”

I’d like to take that nasty little voice of harping and guilt and choke the life blood out of it. Yeah, I’d like five minutes alone in a room with that little voice. I’d really give her a what-for. Oh, wait. That voice is inside my head. All. The. Time.

I need to find a way to create Box Lady experiences without that little voice squelching the good that comes from it. Now.

My soul needs it. It craves it.

The clock is ticking.

“Someday” isn’t good enough—because there is no “someday” guarantee. There is only today. (As cold and claustrophobic as this one might be.)

There is only today.

A Time Coma

January 20, 2014 ~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 3 Comments

Having spent my freshmen year of college at a Big Ten campus where parties abounded, I had no need for a fake ID—there was always something going on somewhere. But sophomore year led me to living on campus in Chicago, where tons of wonderful establishments needed an ID for entry. On my first night out, though, I didn’t need one. Here’s why.

My new co-ed friends told me there was this “must go” all-ages party at a bar called Frankie’s—no ID needed—so…come on! And I did. But when we got there, sure enough there was a bouncer at the front door. Some of my new friends were 21, and the rest had IDs that said they were…I was the only thing in the way of all of us having a good time. Well, hell, I wasn’t going to let that stop us! So I walked up to the bouncer and handed him my driver’s license that showed I was 19.

I had no idea how I was going to play it.

He looked at it. Then he looked at me. Then he looked back down at it again. Finally, he raised his head, squinted, and said, “Uh…this says you’re only 19.”

“I know,” I replied. “…I was in a coma.”

Now, I don’t know where this came from, but out my mouth it flew. Like somehow time doesn’t count on your license if you’re unconscious?? This made no sense. If this wasn’t a sure way to get pointed to the curb, I don’t know what was. Apparently, though, my cocksure way of saying it threw the bouncer, and he looked at me and almost challenged me with his next words of wisdom. “Oh, yeah? For how long?” he asked, studying me.

What? Was there still a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel?? “I don’t know,” I said with irritation. “I was in a coma…”

My friends were off to the side watching in quiet amazement wondering what could possibly be the next round in this goofy volley of words.

I’m not sure what was going through this guy’s head—confusion, bad math, or what—but he gave me one more intense look and said, “Well, okay, but…just this once.” And…he let me through. My friends and I went on our merry way to have some serious fun, and the story lived on as legend.

After that experience, I realized I needed an ID if I wanted to continue going out. After all, how many times is the “I was in a coma” line going to work?!

[Side note: kids if you’re reading this, please know that a fake ID is not a good choice to make. It’s kind of actually illegal. There’s plenty of fun for you to have in other ways. (And they make driver’s licenses way too hard to alter these days!)]

But this story is not about my fake ID. (Maybe that’s for another time?)

Indulge me for a moment as I touch on something metaphorically here—and pardon me if I go Existentialist for a few. In thinking about this story, it made me think how we can sometimes let ourselves slip into a time coma.

Time flies…in epochs, really. Perhaps it is because I am getting older and life is posing so many different kinds of challenges that I feel that the swirl of life is becoming a black hole.

Chunks of time just go…and I look back and think what am I doing? Where did the lost time go? Where is life taking me? How do I wake up and slow things down so that life doesn’t get sucked back into that damn black hole?

Okay. So maybe that’s a bit of a heady extrapolation to take from my silly story. Maybe I should have just kept it at sharing the tale and hoping you got a kick out of it.

But if you ever feel like the swirl of life is really more like a vortex, I hope it helps you to know you are not alone. Let’s be time coma survivors together.

Taken for Granite

December 16, 2013December 16, 2013 ~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 6 Comments

When I was little, I thought the saying was “taken for granite” instead of “granted.” And actually, there is truth to my misstated cliché. If you take something for granted, it’s a bit like believing it’s set in stone…when it’s not.

I’ve had major lessons in this throughout my life, and I’m thinking the same holds true for most people. That’s why sayings like “you don’t miss the water till the well runs dry” exist! Because we are taught over and again that reality doesn’t always align with our plan.

You think, assume, or hope your life is going to be one way, and then you see just how little “granite” has to do with anything. An early and major lesson on this front was losing a parent at a relatively young age. I had assumed my dad would be in my life much longer than he was—but that wasn’t in the plan. Big lesson in taking nothing for granted, right?

Apparently, though, I’m a hardhead. I seem to need reminders, and, as life would have it, I get plenty of them.

2013 has been one big, fat, ongoing reminder. It’s been like a droning lecture from a philosophy professor with long, crooked teeth and an ill-fitting tweed jacket. The kind of lecture where you try really hard in the beginning to take good notes and follow along but before long you find yourself slumped face down on your desk with drool on your hand, the taste of sleep in your mouth, and a huge crick in your neck. (College flashback, anyone?)

2013’s notes include lessons on not taking things like health, family, or employment for granted. Note to the Professor of Life: I get it. The lecture has sunk in. For now.

But unlike the outcome of the droning philosophy lecture, where the end result is probably a foggy understanding and a C+ on the exam, the upside of the life lesson is a renewed sense of blessing and appreciation.

The “granite” reminders continue their teaching with other formidable lessons…

When you need to box your way out of a tough situation, you learn who is in your corner.

When you have to pare away nonessentials…you learn what IS essential.

When you know how it feels to hurt to walk, you will make it your business to strive to run.

When your life garden is full of challenges, you see compassion bloom.

And when you see someone you love in pain, you focus outside yourself and remember the importance of both giving and receiving love and support.

The takeaways from a difficult year can be powerful, and as 2013 comes to a close, I’m calling it a honing year…All things work together for good…at least that is what I believe in and pray for.

I’m hoping I don’t need more reminders any time soon, though. Even for my thick head, I think I’ve had enough to last me for a while. But I am grateful that I am able to see the significance behind the struggles.

And if you are having a rough go of it, as so many people I know are, I hope that you, too, are able to find the meanings and blessings that bubble their way up through the muck. After all, the best “granite” we have to stand on is the faith in that which we cannot see.

This Too Shall Pass

October 28, 2013 ~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 3 Comments

I’ve been blessed to have some important “a-ha” moments in my life. Often they open the door to some sort of personal growth that is usually a good thing. But I’ve also had some “a-ha” moments followed by “whammo” moments that have taken my breath away—both literally and figuratively.

Like the night, many years ago, when my mom and I went out for the first time after my dad’s death a couple months prior. We actually had some laughs, and as we were driving home, I realized that he would want us to have fun and that it didn’t diminish his memory. I said to my mom how it felt good to laugh, even though it felt bad to not have Dad there with us. Within minutes of those words coming out of my mouth, our car was broadsided and we went flying through an intersection. I smashed my head into the window, the car had extensive damage, and my mom realized that my dad had changed the insurance to collision only. It was a costly night in more ways than one. A-ha…whammo.

A sort of personal mantra that often plays in my head like a looping tape during life’s rough seasons is “this too shall pass.” Because it does. We got past the concussion and car repairs from that night. And though I didn’t know it at the time, it was helping to prepare me for more rough seasons to come.

This year has been yet another one of those rough seasons. Included within is another classic a-ha/whammo. While dealing with some rough logistical and emotional challenges in helping to take care of my mother through a major health crisis, it dawned on me that I needed to strive to find joy within the challenges…not wait to get through them. Joy in the moment—not once the obstacle has been overcome. A-ha. The following morning I said aloud to my husband Mike that I felt we were so blessed for him to have his job. And then the next day his boss called him into his office and he was let go. We were completely blindsided. Whammo. The timing would have been laughable if it wasn’t so painful.

We are still in the process of figuring out what God has in store for us next, as Mike is still unemployed, but I do know that this too shall pass. I believe it because I’ve been there before. And while the process may totally suck, I know God is there to take care of the sparrows…and us, too.

But it’s not only the tough stuff that passes. As we all know, the good stuff is temporary, too. It’s all part of the crazy life cycle that keeps us on our toes. Just grab a photo album of days before digital and see if the time flying doesn’t make your head spin—and all the wonderful moments that seemed so big then are now so small—contained in a 3×5 photo and a little piece of your heart.

And that is why remembering “this too shall pass” is so important. Not only does it help me get through life’s blindsidings and heartache, but it reminds me to pull myself out just for a moment and take note that I may not have forever to appreciate my kid’s singing in the shower or the beautiful fall colors or the laughter of a night with friends. It encourages me to savor those moments because I am so very well aware that they do not last.

It helps me remember the fleeting nature of life’s struggles and joys…How the joy fills us and sustains us while the trials make us stronger and wiser (and hopefully more compassionate and understanding). All of it makes us who we are.

So…wherever you may be in life…whatever challenges you may be facing or loving memories you may be making—take heart, take note—this too shall pass.

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