I Got This. Not. (Aka: Don’t Miss the Bus)

On my very first day of high school, I missed the bus.

Not that big of a deal, right? But it was. That one experience fed on my anxiety and planted a seed that grew a fear of missing any public transportation. Silly, I know, but very real. No matter if I’m catching a train, plane, or bus—until I’m actually on it, I have an internal twitch of dread that I will miss it.

All because of my first day of high school.

You see, I went to a grade school that had no buses, so this wasn’t just my first school bus to high school, but my first school bus ever.

 

IHC school bus
Bernd Moehle via Wikimedia Commons

Though starting in a new school is intimidating, I was pretty sure I was properly prepared. In particular, I studied my bus instructions—where the stop was and the number I needed to know. Bus 107. I got this, I thought. (Of course, that expression hadn’t been “invented” yet, so more likely I thought to myself, “Don’t be such a spaz” or “Duh,” but the sentiment was the same.)

That morning, my dad asked, “Are you sure about the bus?”

“Dad, I know what I’m doing…” (Uh-huh, sure you do.)

“Okay, great. Just let me know if you need anything.” (Don’t go far, Dad—I’m going to need to take you up on that offer shortly.)

And off I went.

There I was, standing on the corner I was supposed to, at the time I was supposed to, and within a few minutes, a bus drove by. The bus driver slowed down and called out, “Are you going to Lake Park?”

Isn’t this setting up to be a successful little scenario? After all, Lake Park was my high school! But there was something that wasn’t right. The bus number wasn’t 107, and I was supposed to be on bus 107. My mind quickly jumped to a conclusion—our school had two different campuses—East and West, and my campus was East so this bus must be headed to West! (Not exactly an Einstein in the making since classes at West started at least a half hour earlier than East.)

“Yes, but East!” I shouted back to him. He gave me a look of knitted brows and gestured with his hand up to his ear letting me know he couldn’t quite hear over the engine, so I just waved at him to keep going…he smiled, shrugged, and off he drove.

 

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And then I waited. And waited…And waited.

No more buses came down the street.

Time was running out, and I was risking being late to my first day of high school. I walked back home with tears welling up…How was high school going to be okay if I couldn’t even successfully catch the bus?! I felt remarkably stupid.

I walked into my house where my dad hadn’t yet left for work and was surprised to see me (since I knew what I was doing and all)—by that point I was pretty much sobbing. “Babe, what’s wrong?!”

“I missed the bus, Dad! I couldn’t even get on the bus! I don’t know what happened…some bus came by but it was the wrong num…” he cut me off with a “shhh” and a hug, reassuring me that everything was going to be all right. He’d drive me today, and we would figure out where the problem was for tomorrow.

 

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And that’s exactly what we did. I was on time to school (thank God bus routes are long), and other than that, my high school career began without a hitch. But not without an emotional scar.

Do you want to know the answer to the bus mystery? It’s simple: I thought I was supposed to get on bus 107, but I was really scheduled for route 107. Which is exactly the route that the kind bus driver was driving when he called out to me. As a newbie, I didn’t know that the number of the actual bus meant nothing—but the route number in the window sure did.

Maybe if I would have reviewed the information with my dad when he asked, he could have caught my mistake. Maybe if I wouldn’t have been so quick to think I knew the answer when the bus driver was talking to me and instead asked for help, I would have been on my merry way. Maybe if I wasn’t so ready to show everyone that I knew what I was doing…I might have actually learned what I really needed to know.

 

yellow post it note with tack isolated on white

 

Instead, throughout high school I had countless anxiety dreams of missing the bus, or catching the bus but seeing my backpack left behind on the curb, or running after the bus that was going too fast for me to catch, or trying to get on the bus but the bus doors wouldn’t open…you get the idea. The anxiety dragon feasts on these kinds of episodes.

I never missed the bus after that day, but it only took that one time to engrain in me the knee-jerk fear of it ever happening again. It’s a fear that stays with me still today. (Ask my husband how fun it is.)

Of course, as with all trials that come our way, it’s best to try and learn something from them. Yes, I did get a lifetime of public transportation anxiety, but I realized, too, that I shouldn’t be so quick to think I know what I’m talking about—an ever-evolving lesson for me.

Yes, I missed the bus that day in more ways than one, but you better believe it taught me to know life’s route numbers!

It’s Time to Move Mountains

My thoughts here are a bit passionately swirled, so please bear with me.

When people talk when they don’t know what they’re talking about—and not just talk, but judge—I have a problem with that. A big problem. I’ve been feeling it pretty strongly this week with the death of Robin Williams.

 

Robin Williams (6451545105)
Photo by Eva Rinaldi, via Wikimedia Commons

 

I, along with so many others, was devastated to learn of Williams’ suicide. The one glimmer of hope I felt in his passing was that maybe it would shed better light on mental illness. After all, if a man seemingly so full of joy could take his own life…depression must be real, right? And, thankfully, I have heard some good conversations started because of it. But it’s also brought to light some stunningly insensitive opinions on the topic, as well—most notably (at least for me) the comments made by rocker Gene Simmons. Simmons has since tried to renege on his comments, but I find even those words exasperating.

That kind of stuff feels like a kick in the gut to me.

Back when I taught high school, I went to a student’s funeral who committed suicide. The semester had just started, so I didn’t really get to know her, but I really wish I had had the chance to…What I did see was that she was quiet, sweet, and thoughtful. And she totally mattered. The world lost out when she decided to leave it.

According to Mr. Simmons, though, she had some “dignity” when she killed herself. Granted, his comments are on the far end of the spectrum. While his words are easy for most of us to dismiss as outrageous, there are other responses that, while not so blatantly offensive, still show a lack of understanding when it comes to mental illness.

As I shared in Beautifully Broken, I cope with depression and anxiety. It runs in my family, and it has definitely left its mark. Though my struggles have not brought me to the brink, I understand how the thief that is depression can steal your hope and bring you to dark places that on a good day you could never imagine.

I don’t pretend to know much about depression, but at least I know I don’t know. And I do know that whatever other people are going through, my best response is to listen and care.

I know that mental illness is an illness…and not just people being electively “crazy.” I know that there are people who would never say “get over it” to someone who has cancer or heart disease, but don’t hold mental illness in the same category. Yet it is.

I’ve heard from the pulpit how if we just “turn toward God” we wouldn’t need prescription drugs. I’ve seen people forego seeking help because they have been told to pray harder. Read more scripture. And while I truly believe that all of those things are important, I know that that kind of attitude from members of the clergy does an injustice—and actual damage—to people who are suffering.

There is no shame in illnesses like Multiple Sclerosis or asthma—or any other type of illness—and there shouldn’t be in mental illness, either. Jesus healed all types of sickness with his loving touch. I missed the part in scripture where he dismisses anyone’s hurts or tells them to snap out of it.

Is it possible that some doctors wrongfully prescribe antidepressants to people? Why, yes—in fact I believe that myself because I know people who have had a two-minute chat with a doctor who was then ready to write a prescription. Is there more research to be done on the effectiveness of these kinds of medications? Absolutely. But that doesn’t negate the reality that for many people, these drugs are both a life-saver and giver.

 

meds

 

Meds work for some people and not for others. Psychotherapy works for some and not for others. Some people need both. For some, other treatments like electroshock therapy bring relief. Mental illness is not a one-trick pony.

And our response to it should not be to judge or to fix. Please don’t assume you know people’s brokenness—how they got broken, how they need to “fix” it, or what they are doing “wrong.”

As with all the rest of life, if we just tried to understand and care for one another…to have empathy for another’s experience…we could move mountains.

So let’s push to remove the stigma of mental illness. Let’s make it so that people who need help aren’t afraid of being seen as “less than” and instead feel safe to seek help as soon as they realize they need it. Let’s not judge the battles of those whose shoes we have not walked in. Let’s understand that this type of illness can hit anyone at any time, and the sooner we make these kinds of changes, the better for the whole world.

Let’s move mountains.

 

If you or someone you know is considering suicide, please seek help immediately. Don’t question whether or not you should seek help—just do it. The American Suicide Prevention Hotline can be found here, and here is a list of international suicide crisis hotlines

Part 2—Can We Crack the Culture of Overwhelm?

In last week’s post, I hit on a few key points from Brigid Schulte’s New York Times bestseller, Overwhelmed—Work, Love, and Play When No One Has the Time that touched on why so many of us feel overwhelmed. This week, I’m focusing on some key strategies that will help “crack the culture” of why we feel this way.

Before I go any further, though, I want to take a moment to clarify something. This book is about helping both women and men make better choices for a more fulfilling life. There is no bias against either gender—just an examination of what is and why, and then ways to help everyone make better use of their time. Translation: Men, this book is worth reading for you, too.

I want to offer some takeaways for you to chew on right now, but I can’t stress enough how worthwhile it is to read the entire book. And as I said in last week’s post, this is not a paid endorsement. I just want to share some of what I found so valuable and maybe motivate you to do your own thinking and searching…and changing.

So…where to begin? As the title suggests, the book is broken down into the three areas of work, love, and play, and Schulte examines and offers help in each.

Apparently I can’t be that structured today, so…in no particular order…the takeaways…

Find your pulse—I keep thinking that if only I had large blocks of uninterrupted time to focus, I would be much more productive…but we aren’t actually built that way. There is a rhythm—a pulse—to our lives. We inhale…and exhale. And we need to spend time working…and recovering. It’s how we will do our best work. Schulte shares research that shows that working in 90-minute stretches and then getting up and shifting gears entirely for a short period of time will greatly increase productivity. Find the pulse that works for you.

Choose your priorities—figure out what’s truly important to you and then live your life accordingly. Realign your time to focus on those choices. If you were to pick only a few things to focus on, what would they be? For instance, if spending time with your family was one of them, does your time focus reflect that?

 

priorities

 

Push yourself to play more—active play is actually a necessity for your brain. By giving yourself leisure time—time to explore, laugh, try something new—you are allowing your brain to reenergize and function better. Both historically and currently, women need more help than men in this area. We all need leisure time—and we don’t have to earn it first. Do not feel guilty about making time to have fun. If we can knock that stigma off its ridiculous high horse, we will lead healthier lives.

 

Yeah, that's me surfing
Yeah, that’s me surfing

 

Denmark isn’t rotten after all—Schulte spent some time there learning what the Danish culture can offer those of us who are struggling with overwhelm. Let’s just say it is indeed a world away from American culture. The government there offers excellent formal child care, awesome paid parental leave, six weeks paid vacation…you get the idea. In Denmark, every day is meant to be lived well. You don’t live to work, you work to live. So…what if you don’t live in Denmark?

I concluded that while I don’t have the governmental realities of Denmark, I could still strive for my own private Denmark. What does that mean? As Schulte illustrates, gender roles there are very egalitarian. Women and men share responsibility in work, care of the home, and the raising of children. Work is necessary but not everything, and life shouldn’t be consumed with it. I know I am blessed that my husband already sees our marriage as a team, so our goal is to make it be even more that way. When that happens, both partners win. There is also the Danish idea of hygge, which is a lovely approach to life—and something that you can create wherever you live. (Learn more about hygge here.)

On parenting—Yes, this is the generation of the “helicopter parent” as well as the over-achieving parent. We are not doing our kids any favors by giving them so much or doing so much for them. I just love this piece of wisdom that Schulte shares from Kathy Masarie: “Love your kids. Keep them safe. Accept them as they are. Then get out of their way.” Parenting in a nutshell.

On mothers—Mothers need to stop making it so hard for themselves and each other. Stop the cult of “intensive mothering” and stop judging women—including yourself. Support each other rather than compete with one another.

On fathers—Fathers need to be connected from the very beginning to climb out of this culture of overwhelm. Schulte offers some wonderful insight about how important it is for dads to bond with their newborns—creating a foundation for lifelong engagement—and how too often gender roles get solidified when dads can do just as much as moms—and need to. One of the keys for this to happen is that new moms need to give new dads a chance to engage fully—not scoop the baby as soon as it fusses in dad’s arms.

And, finally…

 

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Be still—pause. In the midst of the racing, remember to stop. Breathe. Remember the beauty of the small moments. Remember that life is short and this is all we have.

 

clock of life

 

I hope these ideas I’ve shared from Schulte’s book get you thinking about some changes you can make. I know not all of us are married or have kids, and a lot of the content seems to focus on those “traditional” roles, but no matter where you are in life, you can strive to stop the merry-go-round of overwhelm that so many of us are riding and learn to live a more fulfilled life.

Of course, that having been said, as I write this I am mired in a day of overwhelm. But I am making progress. Every revolution starts with a first step, right?

Can We Crack the Culture of Overwhelm?

We have a cultural epidemic on our hands. Past the auto-response “I’m fine,” ask the average person today how he or she feels about daily life, and see how many answer that life is coming at them at just the right speed. I doubt you’ll find one—especially if you are asking a woman. Most of us would probably have the word “overwhelmed” somewhere in our answer.

 

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How did life spiral out of control on us?

I read a book over the summer that I feel compelled to write about. This is not a paid endorsement or formal book review. This is just me wanting to share some thoughts on what I found to be a powerful and timely book. It’s not my typical type of post, but I ask you to indulge me—I think this will resonate with you and be worth your time.

Bridgid Schulte’s Overwhelmed—Work, Love, and Play When No One Has the Time was one of those reads that offered me new insights while at the same time found me shouting, “Amen, Sister!” on several occasions.

Schulte is a reporter for the Washington Post, and when she recognized her life was leaving her breathless and constantly stressed, she did what any good reporter does—she researched the heck out of it, and then shared her findings.

And just what are some of those findings? Well, the book is a meaty read, and there is so much more to it than I can summarize, but here are some key points:

  • Current society values busyness almost more than wealth. Think about it. If we don’t have ourselves—and our kids—fully booked, then there must be something wrong with us. We wear our badge of busyness on our sleeves, and the idea of having free time for fun or relaxing is almost shameful. If I had a dollar for every time I heard “Oh, I don’t have time to watch TV…” as a response to my asking someone if they watched a particular TV show, I could go on a really nice vacation (if only I weren’t so busy…) We need to stop fostering this attitude and recognize the importance of leisure (more on that later).
  • Our time—again, particularly for women—is all too often what Schulte defines as “contaminated time.” For many moms, no matter what we are doing, the thought process in our head is swirling around what else needs to be done. It’s a form of mental pollution that muddies our present and keeps our stress level higher than it should be. We also need to acknowledge the reality that multi-tasking does not help our stress level and actually lessens our productivity, much as we might like to think otherwise.
  • And on the topic of stress, Schulte offers this upsetting research: when stress is prolonged or constant, it actually shrinks the prefrontal cortex of our brain which can affect the way we think and knock our immune system for a loop. So if you’re like me—frequently asking yourself, “What is going on with me?” or finding it hard to think clearly, then it’s time to assess how much stress is in your world and do something about it. The good news? Reducing the stress can result in better brain health—we can actually undo the damage to the prefrontal cortex by managing and reducing our stress.
  • Even with our ability to work from home and have flex time, the notion of the “ideal worker” hasn’t changed much since the 1950s. Bosses still see face time as critical and billable hours as the mark of success. The US treats its workers a lot worse than almost all of the rest of the world with sparse vacation time and no paid maternity/paternity leave laws. This poses a big problem for both mothers and fathers. As Schulte’s research shows, women suffer significantly—particularly once they have children. Moms are seen as less committed to work than non-mothers. That’s probably no surprise. But here’s something that might be: men actually benefit from becoming fathers…unless they have the audacity to voice that they want to take leave for family reasons. They then get stigmatized and frequently suffer in the work world because of it.
  • The cult of intensive motherhood is a somewhat recent phenomenon that puts amazing and ridiculous pressure on mothers—and it’s pretty much created by moms. We actually give more time to our kids than back in the 50s and 60s (and that includes mothers that work outside of the home), and it’s still not enough. We need to be Pinterest moms and show how super we are. (Seriously, do you remember having themed birthday parties or mani-pedi afternoons with your mom when you were a kid? I bet not.) Intensive motherhood runs on guilt, fear, and ambivalence. A self-sacrificing mother is an ideal mother.

How’s that for a little food for thought? And I’m only touching on a few central points…there is so much more worth delving into. But even with these few facts provided, you can see how it all adds up to overwhelm.

So…is there anything we can do about it?

In next week’s post, I will take a look at some of Schulte’s findings on how we can improve our situation. Yep, it’s my first two-part post…try to contain your excitement…

…and remember to tune in next week for some ideas on how to change this current culture of overwhelm and perhaps stop the madness (or at least put a healthy dent in it.)

The Cost of Being a Cocksure Connoisseur

I am not an expert anything.

As the song goes, I know a little bit about a lot of things…I am Jack(ie) of many trades, master of none. And though I live my life to learn and grow, there are parts of being an expert that I don’t ever want to achieve.

When I was in high school, the Walkman came out. You could put a cassette tape (!) into it and go wherever you wanted to and listen to music of your choosing. It was groundbreaking. Our band director thought otherwise. “I could never listen to that crap,” he scowled when he saw several students with Walkman players. I asked him why, and he said because the sound quality was “absolutely atrocious.”

 

source: baktrack.com
source: baktrack.com

 

Wow, I thought to myself. If he needed big speakers and proper acoustics to enjoy his music, he wasn’t going to be listening to it nearly as much as I was with my Walkman. I felt bad for him.

 

maxell
source: iconicphotos.wordpress.com

 

For me, I’d rather not have such high standards that I end up missing out on a lot of life.

Like the wine connoisseurs that need a certain vintage before they’re willing to enjoy a glass. It’s one thing to know what makes a good wine, but another thing to be so “expert” about it that few bottles make the cut. As someone who has been a cocktail waitress, there were a few people I served that made me think that they might even send back the wine that Jesus made from water. (No. This won’t do. It’s not herbaceous enough for my taste…)

Same goes for the craft beer authorities. I truly enjoy trying all kinds of beers and I like certain types over others, but…pour me another, my friend. I’m not that picky.

Don’t get me wrong…I have standards…I just like to keep them low enough that I have more opportunities to enjoy life.

 

talladega nights
source: sonypictures.com

 

“I don’t do movies…I only view films that are worthy…” That’s too bad. Guess you’ll never be able to appreciate the splendor of Talladega Nights. Of course I love Ingmar Bergman’s work as much as the next film buff, but I must admit I cried watching The Notebook (only the part at the end where Duke reacts to Allie forgetting him all over again—not the rowboat kissing scene. I do have some standards.)

 

source: imbd.com
Not this part. Yeesh. source: imbd.com

 

 

As for humor, I’m a big fan of both high and low brow. I like to laugh. If it’s funny, it’s funny. I like to make people laugh, too, but I’ve always said if there’s only one person I can amuse, then I’ll pick me—because I’m stuck with me all of the time, so I might as well get a kick out of things. I like being easily amused—it means I’m amused more often than not.

For too many years now, being jaded is “in.” Back when I taught high school I used to tell my students that of course they could go through life acting like they know everything and are bored with it all, but they’ll be the only ones impressed with themselves…and they’ll be missing out on a whole lot.

I guess maybe it makes people feel better that they’ve “been there, done that” with life? I don’t know.

What I do know is that when you’re open to adventure, you’re usually going to find it.

When you approach life with wonder and curiosity, you may just discover some extra beauty in the day that you would have missed otherwise.

I really have nothing against connoisseurs. In fact I think that there should even be connoisseurs of connoisseurs. But if being a connoisseur means that I can only enjoy the very best of things, then I’ll take a pass. That’s a price I’m not willing to pay.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go pour myself a glass of Oak Leaf and contemplate the finer things in life.

Striving to Be Still…and Know

This week, I am stepping out of reality. At least my reality. Of course, all will still be real, but not my normal real, and that is something I deeply need.

Continue reading “Striving to Be Still…and Know”