Peace, Love & Happiness: A New Year's Resolution

I've often thought that if I were a teenager in the 70s, I would have been a hippie. I've always loved these three elements woven together and the idea that they can solve all the world's problems. Last year, my resolution was simply: To be happy. And there were definitely moments in which I succeeded. By the end of the year, I had a good grip on what it takes to make me happy. But I've also realized that you can't just "be happy." You have to constantly evaluate your life and the things in it and work on yourself and create happiness. You can't just have peace, love and happiness -- you have to work for them. So that's my 2011 resolution.

(If you'll indulge me, please listen to the corresponding songs as you read each section. I still haven't figured out how to get a playlist imbedded in here.)

Peace: Iron & Wine, "The Trapeze Swinger"
Although this one is first, it is possibly the hardest one for me. I'm not trying to solve world peace or anything, but just to find inner peace. To be at peace with what has happened in my life and where I am now. To forgive others. To forgive myself. To not be so upset over things I cannot control. To be more calm. To be patient for my life to be the way I want, and to understand that what I want isn't necessarily what I need or what I'll get. To spend more time talking to God, and perhaps more importantly, listening to Him.

My brother has been encouraging me to try yoga, and there's now a Yoga magazine lying on my coffee table, so I suppose that's a good starting place. It seems appropriate that this song selection comes from him as well. Please don't read anything into the slideshow that plays from the YouTube link - I just think it's an incredibly peaceful song. And I could be misinterpreting it, but it seems like the theme of the song is being at peace with life.

Love: JJ Heller, "What Love Really Means"
I want to love. Not just in the romantic sense, although it would be great if I could sort that all out this year. What I mean is that I want to love the way God loves. I've heard the term "God is love" so many times that it seems a bit trite. However, I recently heard a sermon that gave it some fresh meaning. God is love - think about that literally. When you feel love toward a friend, that's God moving through you. When you feel love for a family member, that's God. When you see a story on tv that touches your heart and you feel love, that's God. One of the most beautiful gifts God gives us is the ability to love, and it's also a direct interaction with Him! God loves us in spite of the times we ignore Him, defy Him or hurt Him. I want to love that way.

I've already used this to shift some of my energy. I took on some extra duties about a year ago that require me to deal directly with the people who raise money on our website. For the first several months, I was incredibly irritable. I didn't have time to deal with these people, and on top of that, I thought, they should have been able to figure out most of this stuff on their own. I was probably not very friendly with some of them. I would leave work angry. I would get so frustrated I'd sit in my cube and cry. I can't change the fact that they're calling or that they couldn't figure it out on their own. But what I can change is my reaction. Instead of being frustrated, I'm grateful that they're using our website to raise money. Instead of having a short temper, I force myself to smile and simply ask how I can help them. Instead of being irritated with them, I love them. What a difference this has made - suddenly, the people I'm talking to are also nicer! It's easier to solve their problems. Somehow the rest of my work is getting done in spite of the time I have to spend on the phone.

Happiness: Florence + The Machine, "Dog Days Are Over" 
I love the first line of this song: Happiness hit her like a train on a track. I first heard this song on the previews for Eat, Pray, Love. Since I'd already read the book, I immediately connected with the song and thought, "I want my life to sound like that." There were a lot of moments in 2010 where I found myself smiling all the way down to my heart for no reason, just happy - it truly did hit me like a train. While peace may be the goal I have the hardest time describing or figuring out how to work toward, I think happiness is the most elusive. I've also found pain and sorrow coming out of nowhere on an otherwise pleasant evening. I think what I've learned is that you have to let the hard times come, because they're inevitable. But if you can surround yourself with the things that make you happy, if you can focus on being happy, the hard times will come fewer and farther between. And when they do come, they'll be easier to work though.

I think I've mentioned Kelle Hampton's blog in about half of my posts here, and I've never even met her. Our lives aren't even very similar. However, she's got this great outlook on life: Live bigger, love better, enjoy the small things. She shared this story in a post about a month ago:

There is an ancient Native American story about an old Cherokee who told his grandson about the battle that goes on within us. "My son," he told him, "Inside every one of us dwells two wolves, one evil, one good. The evil one is angry and jealous, full of regret and arrogance, greed and sorrow, guilt and self-pity. The other is good. He is kind and loving, full of hope and peace, joy and compassion."

The young boy thought about it for a moment. "Which wolf wins?" he asked his grandfather.

The old Cherokee smiled and simply replied, "...the one you feed."

Kelle has inspired me to feed my good wolf. I know I'm where I'm supposed to be right now. I can't change anything that's happened in the past. But if I focus on peace, love and happiness, I can change my attitude. And maybe I can change where I'll be a year from now. And maybe I'll be closer to that life I want. Even if I'm not ... it will feel so much better.

I Can Set Up a Wireless Network (!!!)

Before I launch into today's post, I have to list a couple of things that I'm pretty proud of that got left off my original Things I Can Do list: I can kill a spider. This doesn't mean I like to or that I won't ask someone else to do it for me, but dang it, I can. Also, I can navigate they NYC subway system well enough to get from almost anywhere in Manhattan to the New York Presbyterian Hospital and back again. By myself.

Moving on ...

My big Christmas present this year (so big it had to be a joint present from my parents and myself) was a laptop. It came last week, and I already had my wireless router on hand and ready to set up. However, you know how sometimes you get in your head that you just can't do certain things, so much that you don't even want to try? Setting up wireless was one of those things that sounded about as do-able as walking into a cafe in Paris and ordering lunch. So I asked for help.

Three men, two Mediacom reps and several hours later, it was still not set up. I was ready to call the router a lemon and take it in for exchange today when I decided to give it one last shot. It still wasn't easy - I spent about an hour - but you know what? I did it. So no offense to my tech support team, but I'm sitting here on my couch typing this because I made it happen. It pays to push yourself to try something new. (I have a feeling God might be laughing a bit at the irony of the situation.)

I need to go get groceries and pick up a Redbox, but instead I'm reading my favorite blog, listening to the beautiful music that accompanies it and sipping chai from my favorite mug. Sometimes the little things are worth celebrating.

Thank you, once again, for the outpouring of love following my last entry. I know I've been neglecting all of your blogs and not updating this one as much as I'd like. No more excuses since I've solved that whole wireless problem. Up next: that New Year's Resolution, finally.

Divorce is an Open Wound

This is not the blog post I thought I’d be writing today. I’ve got my New Year’s Resolution all packaged up in my brain, but as I laid in bed last night struggling to fall asleep, this came together, and I was afraid if I waited to write it, it would slip away. As long as I publish my resolution by the end of the month, it still counts, right?

I’ve heard people say that going through a divorce is like getting in a car wreck every day for a year. That’s pretty accurate, especially when you’re in the negotiation phase. But once you get past that, the pain becomes . . . different. More raw. The shock sets in. It’s over. He’s gone. People around you continue to go about their business, and you’re still stuck in this in-between place. Not yet over it, but feeling like you should be. Wanting to move on, but feeling ashamed to do so.

Divorce becomes an open wound. You can cover it up with a new apartment, a new car, etc., but it’s big and messy and uneven, so there are always little bits exposed, waiting for the world to creep up and dig in. And if you don’t change the dressing often, a flap will get loose and something will yank on it, hard, and bring you to tears.

It will happen when you hear a certain jingle from a familiar commercial.

Or when you see someone walking their German shepherd.

Or when his 30th birthday passes without a single word.

Or when you find out your friend is pregnant. You’ll be happy for her, truly, but then you’ll go home to your apartment and realize just how alone you are. And how the dreams you had for yourself have been put on indefinite hold.

It will happen when you realize it’s not just a few Keith Urban songs you can’t listen to, but his voice, because the very sound of it takes you to a passenger seat with the windows down, holding hands and singing at the top of your lungs.   

Or when he unfriends you on Facebook.

Sometimes it will be a little prick. Sometimes the pain will paralyze you. Sometimes you’ll just briefly flinch before regaining composure. Other times you’ll sleep all night on the couch, because the thought of getting into bed by yourself would just add insult to injury.

But the thing is . . . wounds eventually scab over. They’re still delicate, but a protective barrier forms to keep the world out. You can choose to pick at it; to be upset when he doesn’t return an email or when you listen to a painful song on repeat, or when you're feeling sorry for yourself as you call cookie dough and wine "dinner." Or you can choose to live. You can go to Christmas parties and baby showers and game nights. You can spend hours talking with friends over hot wings or cheese dip or sushi. You can find a new workout class (no matter how much you detest it). You can join a Bible study and immerse yourself in His word. You can surround yourself with people who encourage you to be the best version of yourself.

After a while, when you peek under the bandage at the scab, ready to pull a piece off, you’ll notice that a scar has formed. It’s still tender to the touch, and sure, if you scratched hard enough, you could still inflict pain. And you’ll wonder if that scar is all people are going to see when they look at you. But the fact is, that scar is part of you. In time, that part of your skin will be tougher than the rest. As cliché as this sounds (and if I had told myself this a year ago, I probably would have rolled my eyes) It. Will. Make. You. Stronger.

Sometimes it’s hard to see God’s purpose. I still don’t understand it, but I know how much I’ve grown over the past year. I’m calmer. I’m more joyful. I’m more in love with life. I have Him, and all of you, to thank for that. You have prayed for me, fought for me and loved me. You have guarded my wound. I could not be more grateful, and most of you will never even know what a difference you’ve made.

Thank you, Leslie, for sending me this song.

You are more than the choices that you've made
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes
You are more than the problems you create
You've been remade