The school district I used to work for had a special word for difficulties: probletunities. This was intended to give the idea that problems were opportunities for growth or improvement.
To me, the term probletunities seems so very glib, so shmaltzy, as if we should be glad of the barriers or struggles or failures we encounter in our jobs or our relationships or just in our daily lives; that they should be celebrated as chances to grow and improve. "Yippee!" we might say, "I burnt the roast for tonight's dinner and our guests will be here in twenty minutes. Now I have a chance to improve myself by solving this problem!" Or "Hooray! I hit the accelerator instead of the brake and ran into this brick wall. I'm so glad I now have the opportunity to grow as I have the car towed and struggle to find the money for repairs. I know this will ultimately make me a better person." Not likely for most of us.
I dislike the term probletunities, but I do applaud the sentiment. Although it seems counter-intuitive, it is true that we learn more from mistakes or struggles than from successes.
As a parent, grandparent, and educator, I have observed this to be true, yet it is still difficult to allow those we care about to go through difficulties. Not only do we not want to engage in struggles or experience failures ourselves, but we don't want our loved ones to, either. One of the characteristics almost all parents have in common is that they want the best for their children. We want them to have happy, healthy lives, so we do our best to smooth out the rough spots for them. By not allowing them to experience the common struggles in life and working toward solutions, we may be setting them up to be less responsible, less diligent, less appreciative.
Most of the teachers I have known (and that is a lot!) are, by nature, "helpers". They have a deep desire to nurture and help people, particularly children. Unfortunately, this can lead to being too helpful. It is very common for students to complain about a task being too hard. Our first instinct is to swoop in and help. Rather, we should allow a little reasonable struggle, providing just enough support. This builds persistence, confidence, willingness to try new things. If we are never given the opportunity to try things that are just a little harder than what we have already mastered, how will we ever grow and learn? Everything we ever accomplish as human beings comes about because we have tried something just a little bit harder than what we did before or we have experienced some sort of problem that has forced us to come up with a better way of doing things.
I have seen an increase in what I label "learned helplessness" in children, both in classrooms and with their parents. While I don't think we should go out of our way to make things difficult for children, I do think it is easy to overdo the rescuing we are inclined to do. In my previous life as an assistant principal, I dealt with many parents who were determined not to allow their children to undergo any type of negative consequences for misbehavior. I often told them that it was better to allow children to experience (and survive) small punishments for small infractions when they were young (and, hopefully, learn the concept of cause and effect from it) than to experience those same lessons when they were older, their mistakes were larger, and the punishments more severe.
So, while I don't really like the term probletunities, I do embrace the idea that we learn best by experiencing and overcoming trials and by stretching ourselves to reach just a little bit farther than we were able to yesterday.
Showing posts with label challenges. Show all posts
Showing posts with label challenges. Show all posts
Monday, March 18, 2019
Monday, February 19, 2018
Doubt and Belief by Carolyn
I am an avid watcher of the Olympics – always have been.
During the current coverage of the Olympics, a commercial for Koch Industries articulates
one of the reasons I enjoy watching. The voiceover states,
“In every challenge,
there are two rivals: belief and doubt. Doubt has a bigger team. Belief is
outnumbered, but never outworked. When a score is settled, belief rises to the
top.”
Read that again, slowly, and let it sink in.
We often talk about challenging ourselves. Maybe we walk
another half a mile. Do ten more sit-ups. Take an honors course. Tackle a
difficult recipe. Choose the stairs instead of the escalator. Take up oil
painting. Whatever. All of that is great. I don’t want to diminish any of the ways
in which we stretch ourselves to become better or healthier or more
accomplished. That’s an important part of living.
However, most of us, if we are honest with ourselves, don’t
attempt to do what terrifies us or what seems impossible for us to accomplish. Very
few of us have the strength of belief in ourselves (and the willingness to work
hard enough) to tackle the insurmountable. Our belief in ourselves bows to the
bigger team that doubt always fields.
I salute those whose belief in themselves and their goals is
strong enough to outwork doubt. Those who are willing to do the incredibly difficult
work it takes day after day, year after year, to overcome their fears, their
handicaps, the little whisper (or loud roar) that says, “You can’t.”
Olympic athletes are among those few. So are those who
overcome persecution or disabilities or seemingly unconquerable difficulties to
ultimately succeed; to become proud and productive. For all of those who
conquer doubt with belief, who set goals for themselves that terrify and thrill them, I applaud your spirit and strength. May we all be
inspired by your determination to accomplish what we did not believe we could.
Sunday, June 5, 2016
The Complaint Department by Carolyn
Do you remember when department stores had a Complaint Department? Some poor soul sat behind a counter and listened to customers' gripes all day, every day. As horrid as that job would be, the benefit of it was that the complaints were (hopefully) heard by someone who could fix them, or had some control over the way things were done in that store. I think that is a concept that we need to consider using in our daily lives.
In my previous life as an assistant principal, I received many complaints from parents about teachers. Always, always, I asked if the parent had talked to the teacher about the issue before calling me. More times than not, the answer was no. This always surprised and disappointed me. I could not understand why a parent would not talk to the teacher if there was a problem. Wouldn't the teacher know far more about the situation than I, a relative outsider, would? Wouldn't the teacher be able to clear up any misunderstandings that had occurred when the student came home with a story about something that had happened in class? I am sure I made many parents unhappy when I insisted that they call the teacher to discuss the issue before involving me in it any further. How can the teacher make positive changes or clear up misunderstandings if never approached about the problem? I believe that, whenever possible, you should take your complaints to the person who has control over the situation.
Likewise, when friends have complained to me about problems with co-workers, their bosses, relatives, business people, whatever, I have encouraged them to talk to the person who could answer their questions, explain the situation, or make a change if needed. I'm happy to listen, but it does no good to air your grievances to someone who has absolutely no control over the problem. It might make us feel a little better to rant and rave and vent our spleen, but it does not resolve anything. The problem is still exactly what it was before the gripe session.
Even worse, the rancor caused by the discontent continues. Not only is the problem unresolved, but there are hard feelings between the person with the complaint and the source of their complaint. Most often, the target of this rancor is blissfully unaware that a problem even exists, because the one who is unhappy has never voiced that opinion to the right person.
This year, this has been a particularly painful problem for me at work. I have become aware that there are people who do not like the way I do my job. This is no surprise - the nature of my job as an instructional coach virtually guarantees that not everyone will approve of the way I do my job. A large part of my job is to (gently) push teachers a little beyond their comfort zone into what have proven to be best practices. Pushing gently is tricky. Some people prefer not to be pushed at all; others thrive on being pushed. I totally understand that. What I find most difficult to understand is why any of my coworkers would not come talk to me about their dissatisfaction instead of letting their resentment build up so much that they spew venom to others about me. That seems unfair.
A few years ago, we studied a chapter of a book* that dealt with how to meet complaints from others. The authors wrote about how important it is to guide employees to meet criticism with curiosity, rather than defensiveness. They advised us to ask ourselves, "What part of this problem have I caused?" I have worked on this response myself many times since reading that chapter. It is not a natural response, but it can be done. I like to think that I could (eventually, if not immediately) meet complaints with more curiosity that defensiveness. However, if complaints about me aren't brought to me, I never have the chance to be curious about the way I do things. If we don't approach others about our dissatisfaction, we deny them a chance to explain themselves or to improve what they do.
I know that it is difficult - most of us shy away from confrontation - but perhaps we need to make an attempt to take our complaints to the correct complaint department - to the person who has control over the situation. It would probably be healthier and make us all happier if we did.
*Chapter Two, "Curiosity", of Radical Change, Radical Results by Kate Ludeman and Eddie Erlandson, 2003, published by Kaplan Business
In my previous life as an assistant principal, I received many complaints from parents about teachers. Always, always, I asked if the parent had talked to the teacher about the issue before calling me. More times than not, the answer was no. This always surprised and disappointed me. I could not understand why a parent would not talk to the teacher if there was a problem. Wouldn't the teacher know far more about the situation than I, a relative outsider, would? Wouldn't the teacher be able to clear up any misunderstandings that had occurred when the student came home with a story about something that had happened in class? I am sure I made many parents unhappy when I insisted that they call the teacher to discuss the issue before involving me in it any further. How can the teacher make positive changes or clear up misunderstandings if never approached about the problem? I believe that, whenever possible, you should take your complaints to the person who has control over the situation.
Likewise, when friends have complained to me about problems with co-workers, their bosses, relatives, business people, whatever, I have encouraged them to talk to the person who could answer their questions, explain the situation, or make a change if needed. I'm happy to listen, but it does no good to air your grievances to someone who has absolutely no control over the problem. It might make us feel a little better to rant and rave and vent our spleen, but it does not resolve anything. The problem is still exactly what it was before the gripe session.
Even worse, the rancor caused by the discontent continues. Not only is the problem unresolved, but there are hard feelings between the person with the complaint and the source of their complaint. Most often, the target of this rancor is blissfully unaware that a problem even exists, because the one who is unhappy has never voiced that opinion to the right person.
This year, this has been a particularly painful problem for me at work. I have become aware that there are people who do not like the way I do my job. This is no surprise - the nature of my job as an instructional coach virtually guarantees that not everyone will approve of the way I do my job. A large part of my job is to (gently) push teachers a little beyond their comfort zone into what have proven to be best practices. Pushing gently is tricky. Some people prefer not to be pushed at all; others thrive on being pushed. I totally understand that. What I find most difficult to understand is why any of my coworkers would not come talk to me about their dissatisfaction instead of letting their resentment build up so much that they spew venom to others about me. That seems unfair.
A few years ago, we studied a chapter of a book* that dealt with how to meet complaints from others. The authors wrote about how important it is to guide employees to meet criticism with curiosity, rather than defensiveness. They advised us to ask ourselves, "What part of this problem have I caused?" I have worked on this response myself many times since reading that chapter. It is not a natural response, but it can be done. I like to think that I could (eventually, if not immediately) meet complaints with more curiosity that defensiveness. However, if complaints about me aren't brought to me, I never have the chance to be curious about the way I do things. If we don't approach others about our dissatisfaction, we deny them a chance to explain themselves or to improve what they do.
I know that it is difficult - most of us shy away from confrontation - but perhaps we need to make an attempt to take our complaints to the correct complaint department - to the person who has control over the situation. It would probably be healthier and make us all happier if we did.
*Chapter Two, "Curiosity", of Radical Change, Radical Results by Kate Ludeman and Eddie Erlandson, 2003, published by Kaplan Business
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Who to blame?
By Susan
When my son was a toddler and would get in trouble for breaking things or doing something he wasn't supposed to do, his response was: "Accie did it!" I guess he must have heard us say "it was an accident" and thought it was a person who usually caused problems and hence could be blamed for anything. That's when I started worrying about how to teach my children to take responsibility for their own actions while at the same time know when to advocate for themselves. It's a fine balance. And children really learn from the example of the adults around them more so than by being told. In other words, I can't really teach it to someone if I haven't found that balance myself. I think of how often I might say: "You are making mommy lose her patience," or "See what you made me do?" Of course, children can be irritating and test our patience at times, but ultimately I am in charge of my responses. Little by little, children can begin to see the possibility of putting the blame for their actions on outside forces. Once I was hosting a group of nine and ten year olds at my house. They became excessively rambunctious and disruptive while playing. When one of the parents came to pick them up and asked how they had behaved, I mentioned the fact that they had had a rough time. The parent asked if I had served them any sweets. I mentioned that I had offered them some cookies as a snack. "That's it then," said the parent. "He gets like that when he eats too much sugar." I don't deny that food can have a negative effect on some children but providing that as a quick excuse for bad behavior, absolved the children from taking responsibility for their actions. I remember as a child when I would fall or run into a piece of furniture, grown ups would try to comfort me by blaming the inanimate object that had hurt me. Bad table! Why did you hurt my baby? When I had children of my own, I was afraid that such words, even though spoken out of love, would subtly convey the message that when hurt or angry, our response should be to find someone or something to blame. We so want to protect our children and stand up for them. Especially if we felt vulnerable and defenseless as children ourselves. But it is possible that in the process we rob them of the ability to evaluate a situation and assume the appropriate measure of responsibility.
Some of us grew up in settings where it was always our fault. Teachers and other adults were always right and our side of the story was never heard. So we end up blaming ourselves for everything. I think the balance comes from learning to practice truthfulness and justice with ourselves first, and then with our children. I think we all have an inner voice that tries to tells us what is true and just. When we ignore it, it grows quieter and quieter, until one day it is completely silenced. Our job as parents then is to nurture this voice within ourselves and help our children find theirs and listen to it.
When my son was a toddler and would get in trouble for breaking things or doing something he wasn't supposed to do, his response was: "Accie did it!" I guess he must have heard us say "it was an accident" and thought it was a person who usually caused problems and hence could be blamed for anything. That's when I started worrying about how to teach my children to take responsibility for their own actions while at the same time know when to advocate for themselves. It's a fine balance. And children really learn from the example of the adults around them more so than by being told. In other words, I can't really teach it to someone if I haven't found that balance myself. I think of how often I might say: "You are making mommy lose her patience," or "See what you made me do?" Of course, children can be irritating and test our patience at times, but ultimately I am in charge of my responses. Little by little, children can begin to see the possibility of putting the blame for their actions on outside forces. Once I was hosting a group of nine and ten year olds at my house. They became excessively rambunctious and disruptive while playing. When one of the parents came to pick them up and asked how they had behaved, I mentioned the fact that they had had a rough time. The parent asked if I had served them any sweets. I mentioned that I had offered them some cookies as a snack. "That's it then," said the parent. "He gets like that when he eats too much sugar." I don't deny that food can have a negative effect on some children but providing that as a quick excuse for bad behavior, absolved the children from taking responsibility for their actions. I remember as a child when I would fall or run into a piece of furniture, grown ups would try to comfort me by blaming the inanimate object that had hurt me. Bad table! Why did you hurt my baby? When I had children of my own, I was afraid that such words, even though spoken out of love, would subtly convey the message that when hurt or angry, our response should be to find someone or something to blame. We so want to protect our children and stand up for them. Especially if we felt vulnerable and defenseless as children ourselves. But it is possible that in the process we rob them of the ability to evaluate a situation and assume the appropriate measure of responsibility.
Some of us grew up in settings where it was always our fault. Teachers and other adults were always right and our side of the story was never heard. So we end up blaming ourselves for everything. I think the balance comes from learning to practice truthfulness and justice with ourselves first, and then with our children. I think we all have an inner voice that tries to tells us what is true and just. When we ignore it, it grows quieter and quieter, until one day it is completely silenced. Our job as parents then is to nurture this voice within ourselves and help our children find theirs and listen to it.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Problems I Have Caused Myself by Carolyn
When troubles occur in our lives, as they inevitably must, we moan and cry and carry on, wondering why this (whatever it is) has happened to us. It has been my considered opinion for quite a while now that there are four sources of our troubles in this world.
One, which I think is responsible for only a small portion of the trouble in each of our lives, is that sometimes God places us in positions or sends us circumstances that He has purposely designed to refine and develop us in some way. I don't presume to understand the details of all that, but my Bible assures me that it does happen, and is the result of His fatherly love for us.
The second cause of our trials, in my humble opinion, is that we live in a world full of imperfect people. Not only are our own bodies and minds and souls imperfect, but so are those of every single human being with whom we inhabit the Earth. I believe that this imperfection is the cause of a lot of our troubles. Car wrecks, disease, robberies, hangnails, financial scams - everything from genocide to someone going through the express checkout with too many groceries can be attributed to the "fallen-ness" of the bodies we inhabit and the people we share our world with. I don't think it does much good at all to obsess about this kind of trouble. Worrying about things outside your control only gives you wrinkles, a headache, and a grouchy outlook on life.
Third, I would name the natural world as the source of some of our problems. It seems you can't go a day without hearing about a flood, tornado, tsunami, earthquake, wildfire, or other natural disaster. I'm not sure if these natural disasters are becoming more common, or if we just hear about them more often in this era of global communication, but it is impossible to deny that we humans are almost totally at the mercy of Mother Nature. We like to think we are mighty, powerful, indestructible; but we are clearly no match for the excesses of wind, rain, snow, heat (or whatever) that the natural forces of our planet can conjure up to throw at us (literally and figuratively).
Lastly, and the real subject of of my rambling thoughts, is the fourth cause of the problems we encounter in our daily lives. Ourselves. I have come to believe, albeit reluctantly, that I am the cause of most of my own trials and tribulations. I have been pondering this for quite a while (I was recently accused of pondering rather too much), but it was brought home forcibly to me while I was taking a road trip a few weekends ago. I had set my GPS to lead me to the home address of a friend from many years ago (I didn't want to say an "old" friend!), even though I knew in general how to get to the area in which she lived. It was really just the last few miles of the trip for which I needed directions. As I drove, the computer-generated (male with a British accent) GPS voice kept insisting that I should take a route that I didn't want to take. He believed that he knew better than I did which way would be the best. Mile after mile he droned on, "Make a U-turn when possible." I declined to follow his instructions. As the trip went on, I became more and more irritated with him. I am embarrassed to admit that I even began arguing with him. "I will not make a U-turn! I don't want to go that way!" Finally it dawned on me that this irritation could have been avoided if I had gone as far as I could without setting the GPS, and then turned it on only as I got close to my destination. Idiot! (Sadly, this is not the first time I have done exactly this same thing.)
So, as that realization hit me, I began thinking that perhaps there were other instances in my life where my problems or troubles or irritations were of my own creation. As I drove, I began naming those situations aloud (it kept me awake as I drove, at least). The list grew quite lengthy. Undoubtedly, I could have driven cross-country and not have run out of examples of this phenomenon in my own life. Here are a few of the ones that came to mind as I drove (in no particular order):
I could go on . . . and on . . . and on, but that would just be depressing. I am especially sorry to say that I am apparently incapable of learning from my previous mistakes - some of my self-initiated problems have occurred more than once.
I would like to promise that my propensity for causing myself trouble will end forthwith. I would like to believe that. I live in the constant hope that at some point in my life I will become a real grownup - one who is capable and thoughtful and thorough. Unfortunately, it is looking less and less likely as I continue to grow older without becoming noticeably wiser.
-Carolyn
One, which I think is responsible for only a small portion of the trouble in each of our lives, is that sometimes God places us in positions or sends us circumstances that He has purposely designed to refine and develop us in some way. I don't presume to understand the details of all that, but my Bible assures me that it does happen, and is the result of His fatherly love for us.
The second cause of our trials, in my humble opinion, is that we live in a world full of imperfect people. Not only are our own bodies and minds and souls imperfect, but so are those of every single human being with whom we inhabit the Earth. I believe that this imperfection is the cause of a lot of our troubles. Car wrecks, disease, robberies, hangnails, financial scams - everything from genocide to someone going through the express checkout with too many groceries can be attributed to the "fallen-ness" of the bodies we inhabit and the people we share our world with. I don't think it does much good at all to obsess about this kind of trouble. Worrying about things outside your control only gives you wrinkles, a headache, and a grouchy outlook on life.
Third, I would name the natural world as the source of some of our problems. It seems you can't go a day without hearing about a flood, tornado, tsunami, earthquake, wildfire, or other natural disaster. I'm not sure if these natural disasters are becoming more common, or if we just hear about them more often in this era of global communication, but it is impossible to deny that we humans are almost totally at the mercy of Mother Nature. We like to think we are mighty, powerful, indestructible; but we are clearly no match for the excesses of wind, rain, snow, heat (or whatever) that the natural forces of our planet can conjure up to throw at us (literally and figuratively).
Lastly, and the real subject of of my rambling thoughts, is the fourth cause of the problems we encounter in our daily lives. Ourselves. I have come to believe, albeit reluctantly, that I am the cause of most of my own trials and tribulations. I have been pondering this for quite a while (I was recently accused of pondering rather too much), but it was brought home forcibly to me while I was taking a road trip a few weekends ago. I had set my GPS to lead me to the home address of a friend from many years ago (I didn't want to say an "old" friend!), even though I knew in general how to get to the area in which she lived. It was really just the last few miles of the trip for which I needed directions. As I drove, the computer-generated (male with a British accent) GPS voice kept insisting that I should take a route that I didn't want to take. He believed that he knew better than I did which way would be the best. Mile after mile he droned on, "Make a U-turn when possible." I declined to follow his instructions. As the trip went on, I became more and more irritated with him. I am embarrassed to admit that I even began arguing with him. "I will not make a U-turn! I don't want to go that way!" Finally it dawned on me that this irritation could have been avoided if I had gone as far as I could without setting the GPS, and then turned it on only as I got close to my destination. Idiot! (Sadly, this is not the first time I have done exactly this same thing.)
So, as that realization hit me, I began thinking that perhaps there were other instances in my life where my problems or troubles or irritations were of my own creation. As I drove, I began naming those situations aloud (it kept me awake as I drove, at least). The list grew quite lengthy. Undoubtedly, I could have driven cross-country and not have run out of examples of this phenomenon in my own life. Here are a few of the ones that came to mind as I drove (in no particular order):
- having no air conditioning in my car (still)
- running out of my prescriptions without refills available
- having a house full of chewed-on furniture, pillows, baseboards, shoes, eyeglasses, etc.
- needing to rake the discarded leaves from 40 trees in my backyard
- wearing shoes which I have forgotten give me blisters
- often having less in the bank than I should
- running out of clean underwear
- having to squeeze past all the junk in my garage to get into my car
I could go on . . . and on . . . and on, but that would just be depressing. I am especially sorry to say that I am apparently incapable of learning from my previous mistakes - some of my self-initiated problems have occurred more than once.
I would like to promise that my propensity for causing myself trouble will end forthwith. I would like to believe that. I live in the constant hope that at some point in my life I will become a real grownup - one who is capable and thoughtful and thorough. Unfortunately, it is looking less and less likely as I continue to grow older without becoming noticeably wiser.
-Carolyn
Monday, April 7, 2014
What Things May Come by Andrea
Adversity comes. It is a part of the human condition. Adversity can make us or break us. It comes and it exposes us. Martin Luther King, Jr. is quoted as saying, "The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands in times of challenge and controversy." Personally, I try with all my might to live with as little uncontrolled, unsolicited challenge as possible, and controversy is a pariah that I give much planning and effort to avoid. But, they both come without invitation or warning. It is at these times that who I am is not only revealed but can also be defined.
So what are my responsibilities when bad things happen?
My response: The number one way I should respond is in hope. This, however, is not always easy for doers like me. Don't get me wrong, hope is not passive. It requires active participation in the struggle. The action, though, is less about taking control and making change happen. It's a wrestling match that takes place in the mind. I must wrestle with my thoughts to make them focused and faithful. I have to wrestle with my convictions and beliefs to get my bearings, to help me get centered. My ideas of how life should go rather than how it is going must be subdued in order for hope to rise rather than fear and doubt. In hope, there is victory long before anything changes. Paradoxically, victory comes from surrender, in not resisting the inevitable but embracing the challenge. A hopeful response announces and embraces the notion that this too shall pass while still in the ring.
My attitude: An attitude colored by gratitude for the parts of life that are good and beautiful helps me to be better rather than bitter. Instead of kicking rocks because adversity has come knocking on my door, I must to choose to dig in and persevere. It is a daily decision. During times of woe, it seems I have to choose moment by moment to keep my eyes on the good, rather than the mountains of reasons to be anxious and overwhelmed, even by the daily-ness of life during a storm. Attitude really is everything.
Letting people in: I cannot overcome alone. I have had friends who literally patch up my heart and my faith. Inboxes overflowing with words of encouragement, scriptures, prayers and silly selfies to make me smile have been like water flowing over my parched soul during difficulty. I have friends who call or show up at just the right time. They listen and share. They connect and empathize. They let me ugly cry and cry along. Vulnerability with the right people builds bridges that can offer support for the ages.
My faith: Faith is not a shield from desperate situations or desperate feelings and thoughts, but the nature of this walk requires a faithful response to trials and tests. I am assured that I will never walk alone as long as I walk with God. One of the many passages that gives me courage is:
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
When you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze. Isaiah 43:2, The Holy Bible
Disasters come in all forms. Some are physical and destroy swiftly such as storms or illnesses. Some disasters are emotional and seem as if they sweep over life all of a sudden with no signs of letting up. Some challenges are battles of the mind, and the struggle is to find the right perspective in order to effect a change of state if not a change of circumstance. Some tumult is completely outside of oneself and brought on as a consequence of living and loving within a community. I have faced all of these in some form throughout my four decades and am sure more will come.
This I know for sure: no matter what things may come, focusing on that which I am responsible for has helped me to endure adversity infinitely better than focusing on the struggle.
-Andrea
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Wounded Earth by Carolyn
“Out of wounded earth, flowers come, pushing through the dirt.”
from Wholly Yours by the David Crowder Band
Those words stick in my head long after the song has ended, nagging at me to give them a voice. I know they speak of my mother, who had a beautiful spirit in spite of the difficulties she faced in her life.
She was born in 1935 in Alamogordo, New Mexico, the fourth child, third daughter, of a rancher and a homemaker. Eventually, the number of children would grow to seven. She was right in the middle: middle child, middle of the five daughters. The family struggled to make ends meet all of her childhood. She used to tell stories about her early years in Alamogordo, which is a mountainous area, and therefore gets quite a bit of snowfall each year. She spoke of sleeping in a bed together with all of her sisters crowded together for warmth. She recalled waking up shivering one morning feeling as if a huge weight was crushing her. When she opened her eyes, she realized that the weight she was feeling was a large drift of snow that had fallen through a hole in the roof down onto the kids huddled under the quilts below! I remember hearing her say once (whether jokingly or not, I’m not sure) that they weren’t even very upset when one of them wet the bed at night, because at least it made a warm spot! She grew up with little money, nothing in the way of luxuries, and lots of hard work. Yet she shone with good nature and hopefulness. To this day, her brothers and sisters will say that she is their favorite sister, the heart of the family.
Eventually, she met and married my father, and they produced two daughters, my sister and me. Suffice it to say, she was more committed to the marriage than he was. I think it might be fair to describe my father as “hard to love”. For many years, after working a full day outside the home, my mother cleaned the house, did laundry, and made dinner for my father. He seldom came home to eat until it had grown cold and she had sent us to bed. He was seldom around to engage in father-daughter activities with us, so she filled the gap with a warm smile and vast enthusiasm. When their marriage finally ended in divorce, she was devastated. In spite of all the emotional pain she had been through, she still loved him and wanted the marriage to work. As a single parent, she raised us with patience and understanding. Her wisdom and generosity as a parent I could never hope to achieve, although I hoped I would.
Years later, she began to have severe back pain. She endured several very painful back surgeries, which never quite solved the problem. She was diagnosed with degenerative disk disease. For many years, every day was full of pain, yet it was difficult to tell when you were with her. She continued to smile and laugh and enjoy life. Eventually, when she was in her early forties, she could no longer go to work every day. Most of her days were spent in her recliner, but when she could, she got out and about; she was not a person made for solitude. Even when she was disabled, she still enriched the lives of her family and her many friends with her sense of humor, her ready smile, her generosity of spirit.
In late December, 1986, my mother and I attended a Christmas celebration with her extended family. As we were driving home late that afternoon, she told me that if she had her life to live over again, she would not change anything. I was aghast. “What about all the heartache and the pain you have been through?” I asked. She smiled and said, “Without all of the pieces of my life, the good and the bad, I would not be the person I am today. I kind of like who I am.” I said something about liking her, too, and wishing I could be as content with my life as she was with hers. I’m smiling as I write this now, remembering that conversation. I am grateful to have had that time with her, because there would not be very many more conversations between us. She died at the age of 50, just a few weeks later. I miss her every day.
Now I have given the words a voice: my mother was a beautiful flower that had the strength of spirit to push through the wounded earth in which it was planted.
-Carolyn
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Sharing Christmas by Carolyn
You would think I would be good at sharing Christmas by now; I've been practicing it since I was a child. I can put on a pretty convincing show of it: "It doesn't matter what day you celebrate Christmas, as long as you get to spend time with people you love." Sounds good, right? The truth is, it is still hard to have no family celebration on the actual day.
My parents divorced when I was 11, so the typical family-all-together-around-the-tree-on-Christmas-morning ended fairly early for us. For the rest of my childhood, I rarely saw my father on Christmas.
Continuing the family tradition, my first husband and I divorced when our sons were very young. Throughout their childhoods, Christmas was a time of negotiations: "When do you want to meet to hand over the kids?", "When will you bring them back?" My Christmas celebrations with my boys were frequently not on Christmas Day. I tried to remind myself that I had the pleasure of being with them almost every day, so the least I could do was to allow their father the joy of celebrating with them on Christmas Day. Still, I felt empty without them.
Now that the boys are grown and in relationships, I must share them with other families. The negotiations continue: "When will your family have Christmas?" "When can we have our Christmas?" I suspect it will become even more complex as they have children of their own. Of course they will want to spend Christmas Day in their own homes, so the little ones can wake up and rush to the tree. I can't blame them for that. It is the natural way of things.
I am still struggling, even after all these years of sharing Christmas, to be content with my own small celebration of the day: a prayer of gratitude for the birth of my Savior, and a mental recounting of all the many blessings I have been given. After all, it doesn't matter what day you celebrate Christmas, as long as you get to spend time with people you love, right?
-Carolyn
My parents divorced when I was 11, so the typical family-all-together-around-the-tree-on-Christmas-morning ended fairly early for us. For the rest of my childhood, I rarely saw my father on Christmas.
Continuing the family tradition, my first husband and I divorced when our sons were very young. Throughout their childhoods, Christmas was a time of negotiations: "When do you want to meet to hand over the kids?", "When will you bring them back?" My Christmas celebrations with my boys were frequently not on Christmas Day. I tried to remind myself that I had the pleasure of being with them almost every day, so the least I could do was to allow their father the joy of celebrating with them on Christmas Day. Still, I felt empty without them.
Now that the boys are grown and in relationships, I must share them with other families. The negotiations continue: "When will your family have Christmas?" "When can we have our Christmas?" I suspect it will become even more complex as they have children of their own. Of course they will want to spend Christmas Day in their own homes, so the little ones can wake up and rush to the tree. I can't blame them for that. It is the natural way of things.
I am still struggling, even after all these years of sharing Christmas, to be content with my own small celebration of the day: a prayer of gratitude for the birth of my Savior, and a mental recounting of all the many blessings I have been given. After all, it doesn't matter what day you celebrate Christmas, as long as you get to spend time with people you love, right?
-Carolyn
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