If you can't say something nice . . .

I haven't blogged in awhile. That's not to say I haven't been writing for myself, just that I haven't been sharing. There's been a lot going on for me in the past year, but nothing that I wanted to, or could, share outside of my own internal reflection.

I've been relatively quiet on social media as well. About a year and a half ago, I came up with my own personal motto for Facebook; if I wanted to post, it needed to be positive, humorous, encouraging, educational, joyfully reflective, or only mildly self-deprecating/ironic stories. No woe-is-me posts, no whining about first world problems, no rants, no vague attention-seeking posts. To be totally honest, I'm often vastly entertained by those types of posts on others' pages (in the way you're entertained by awkward public arguments in restaurants and train wrecks). I support everyone interpreting their lives the way they choose to (even if I surreptitiously block some of them from my news feed to avoid some of those things) and this isn't a rant on Facebook etiquette in general. It's more about my personal choice. I've definitely been in the mood to break my personal motto for FB in the last year, because I've had moments where I wanted to whine, and wanted to rant, and wanted to post vague attention-seeking posts so people would sympathize. I even slipped a few times.

It's been a rough year for me. Let me put that in context . . . in my 30 years of living and breathing in a privileged life with, currently, a steady job, excellent insurance, a comfy apartment, plenty of food, continued overall health, books/internet/Netflix, family and friends . . . it's been a rough year. My job has consumed more of my time and energy than I ever considered it would. I've become useless at remembering things that aren't work related. I barely have the energy by the end of the day/week to make time for friends. Some very valued friends have fallen completely by the wayside for me. I've started collapsing in bed instead of exercising. I've ignored my hobbies and passions. I've spent less time with family to avoid any possible drama/commitment that often comes with families. I've been spending less time relationship-building in general, because my introverted self just doesn't have the energy most days to be around people.

In short, I've been drifting, aimless, and often sad.

And so I've been quiet, because deep down I've always believed that when it comes to sharing to the world (outside of trusted friends and family), you should stick to the motto "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all". Everyone has struggles. Mine are small in the context of the real struggles of the world. You have only to watch the news to put your struggles in perspective. My struggles are small, but they are real to me.

So, maybe a rant would help? Maybe a mopey blog that talks about how rough I think my life has been and requesting sympathy and suggestions? Or, I could say something nice. Thanksgiving is next week . . .

I'm thankful for The National band album I'm currently listening to, which gives me something slightly moody and ethereal to reflect and write to.

I'm thankful for my nieces, nephew, and the honorary nephews and honorary nieces/nephews that are growing healthy and strong. I'm thankful for how they remind me that time goes by quickly, and you have to get in all the hugs and love that you can before they become too cool for geeky Auntie Dacia.

I'm thankful for friends who are equally, if not more, geeky than me and who embrace all that with me. And I'm thankful for my friends who I sometimes have only a few core things in common with except that we love each other in spite of/because of our differences and mutual respect. I'm thankful for Friendsgiving with some of those friends.

I'm thankful that I was instilled with a deep obsession with books from an early age, because I will never be lonely or bored with all the thousands of stories out there in the world. There is always another adventure to embark on and another perspective to learn from.

I'm thankful for a church where I can be imperfect. I'm grateful to be a part of something flawed, beautiful, and honest. I'm thankful that my mind is still open and unformed enough to change and learn and take on new perspectives. I'm glad I'm not jaded quite yet.

I'm thankful for a digital journal, so I could get out the whiny, ranting, self-pitying thoughts out without subjecting anyone else to them.

I'm thankful for a family that loves me unconditionally. For a mother who still calls me by endearing childhood nicknames, calls enough so I know I'm loved but never smothers, and who gives me an example of how to have adventures, be goofy, and still be an introvert. For a step-dad who gives car advice, life advice, a sense of humor and adores my mom. For aunts and uncles that are close enough to parents that I just feel too blessed for words. For a grandma who prays for me every day and is such a humbling example of living a faithful life. For the memory of a grandpa that instills a sense of working hard, never giving up, and sticking up for those that can't stick up for themselves. For a brother, sister-in-law and two sweet nieces who are finally close enough for me to get a regular fix and a chance to reconnect. And for step-sisters who always include me when I visit and consider me an auntie to their kiddos. I'm so thankful for all of you.

I'm thankful for wonderful co-workers who make me laugh, talk me down from the crazy days, and are teaching me daily how to be better at my job. I'm blessed to work in a place where the mission is to demonstrate the healing ministry of Christ. I don't always succeed at the mission every day, but I do try, and the daily effort and struggle make me a better person.

I'm thankful that I worship a living God that knows all these struggles and joys and never leaves me, even when I'm apathetic, depressed, overwhelmed, frustrated, selfish, petty, and distant. I'm thankful that this same Savior takes me outside of myself when I'm at my worst and shows me all that I'm blessed with. I'm thankful to be told I'm not the center of the universe. And at the same time, I'm thankful to know that I am adored, utterly and completely, by this same Savior.

If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. It's been a rough year, but I am thankful.

My 30th Christmas Tree

I've always had a strange tradition around this time of year. I turn on the lights of the Christmas tree and turn off all the other lights in the house. I sit in my pj's and snuggle up in a blanket on the couch and just stare at the lights of the tree. I distinctly remember doing this as a little girl and the tradition endures even still. On this evening, I'm carrying on the tradition and staring at my 30th Christmas tree.

December has always been a magical month for me. A birthday at the beginning of the month and my favorite holiday at the end. A whole month of celebrating, beauty, happiness, presents, decorations, beautiful lights and family. What's not to love?

As I stare at my 30th Christmas tree, it strikes me as the complete opposite of so many of my trees growing up. They were huge and covered in multi-colored blinking lights. They had hand-made ornaments adorning them and I spend hours rearranging the ornaments to perfection and scouting out the presents underneath. My tree this year is about 5 feet tall and is simply adorned with white lights, red berries and gold leaves. It is a grownup tree. There is no childish wonder and fascination, just a subdued elegance and a simplicity due to being too tired for more effort. Looking at this tree makes me realize how utterly 30 years can change a person.

As a child, I couldn't get the tree up fast enough. I would have put it up the day after Thanksgiving if I could convince my parents. I wanted the biggest tree and I wanted it to be completely drenched in lights and ornaments. I wanted incessant Christmas music. When I got a set of lights for my birthday to decorate the outside of our house, I literally bounced off the walls with excitement. As an adult, I kept forgetting to get a tree. Life has been busy and I keep thinking "It'll only be up for 3 weeks!! So much work . . . should I even bother?" The main reason I got my 30th Christmas tree this year is in memory of that little girl. I remember the magic and wonder that I felt growing up. I can literally close my eyes and see my younger self cuddled up many years ago and staring at her 8th Christmas tree . . . her 12th Christmas tree.

As I hit this slightly significant milestone in life, I will try to remember that you are only as old as you feel inside. I can close my eyes and reach back to find my younger self, filled with wonder and possibilities . . . the girl with the big imagination, silly and lovely dreams, and a tradition of staring at the beauty of a softly lit tree and taking it all in.

Fifty Shades of Crazy

This past Wednesday, I was browsing online and wandered across an article on Entertainment Weekly that was talking about popular books being made into movies. It had a picture of the Hunger Games on it, so I clicked on it in mild curiosity. As I browsed down the books listed, I came upon a title I’d never heard of; Fifty Shades of Grey. Hmmm, intriguing title . . . kind of mysterious. Instead of finishing the article, I looked it up on Goodreads, wanting to see some reviews. It had a lot of polarizing reviews, and I decided to read the description.

As I read through the summary, this thought went through my head . . . “What the heck????”

Basically, this book is about a young, innocent college student who falls for a wealthy entrepreneur with unusual sexual proclivities. This book is categorized as erotica. Yep, erotica is on the NYT’s bestsellers list for paperbacks and ebooks.

Seriously??

Wait, it gets better.

This book was written by a woman who writes fan fiction. She finds a book that she loves and decides to write her own little fantasy story using either the world, the characters, or the theme, and taking it on her own merry little ride. In general, I find fan fiction pretty harmless. It’s the same thing as those lame videos you see on YouTube where they try and make videos out of books and patch together scenes from random movies to make a trailer. Yes, very lame. But pretty harmless. In this case, the author created fan fiction (titled Master of the Universe) based on the Twilight novel characters. Granted, she completely changed the basic story line, which involves vampires and werewolves. Instead, she makes Edward into a hot millionaire named Christian who enjoys whips and domination and Bella is an uninteresting, meek college student named Ana who completely falls for him . . . okay, that part is mostly the same.

So, this author wrote MOTU and it got rave reviews from readers of fan fiction. With such a glowing response, she decided to publish it as her own book, Fifty Shades of Grey, by changing the character names, places and a few other details.

Seriously??

According to software produced to prevent plagiarism in schools, FSOG is 89% the same as MOTU. Yep, 89% the same as a piece of work that she wrote as fan fiction and published online for free. You can now buy the ebook version for $9.99 online.

Don’t get me wrong, the Twilight series wasn’t some great work of literary expertise, but if I was Stephanie Meyers, I’d be outraged. Not only did she take her very pure, chaste characters and turn them into sex maniacs, but she had her characters in mind the whole time she was originally writing. If that isn’t a breach of intellectual property, I don’t know what is. And because these books (oh yes, it’s a trilogy) are becoming so wildly popular, they’re also making a movie out of it. Which means that every genius who’s ever written ridiculous fan fiction is suddenly going to have an “inspiration” to write their “own” book. Unbelievable.

I’d just like to add a disclaimer that I have not read Fifty Shades of Grey, nor do I intend to. I’m not a book snob; I’ll read almost anything, especially if someone recommends it to me. But I won’t curb my curiosity in the mania by supporting an author that was too lazy to develop her own characters. Sorry if that sounds harsh, it’s just my opinion. Any thoughts from my book-loving friends? Speak up in opposition, I’d love other viewpoints, especially from a legal standpoint:)

The Worst Thing?

Have you ever absently thought to yourself “Ugh, that’s the worst thing ever” over something fairly trivial?

For instance, yesterday I was snacking on a mandarin orange. I laboriously pulled off the stubborn peel and remarked inwardly that it was a pain. Then after all that work, I bit into the first piece and crunched down on a seed. End of the world. I hate seeds in mandarin oranges. I muttered darkly under my breath and began to fish the pesky seeds out. I even said, with exasperation, “Seeds in mandarins are the worst thing ever.” It only took me about two minutes of eating delicious, fragrant sections of mandarin to realize what a monumentally stupid thing I’d just said.

In some parts of the world, I imagine that people would fight over even the seeds of the mandarin. They’d probably eat the peel as well. I see those pictures of starving children and I know the worst things in my life wouldn’t even register on the scale of what they deal with every day. I have disappointments in my life; frustration, pain, sadness, concerns, etc. But I have an overabundance of blessings in my life as well.

I have never missed a meal because there was no food available. If I get hungry, I can walk across the street to the fancy grocery store and buy almost any food I can imagine. If I’m too lazy to walk, there is plenty of food to sustain me in my pantry and fridge. If I got sick in any way, there are two Urgent Care/Clinic’s just across the street. If I had an emergency, I could get to a hospital in about 5 minutes. I live in a beautiful apartment, with hot water readily available, a washer/dryer to clean my clothes, and a closet overfull of garments to choose from. I have a sturdy lock on my door and security that drives around the complex at night. I never have to fear for my safety. I have my own car to transport myself places. I have a very secure job that enables me to provide for myself. I have a loving family that checks in with me on a very regular basis. I have wonderful friends that love and support me. I have a church family that welcomes and includes me. I have a God who never, ever leaves me.

I have everything.

Our thoughts are powerful things. They have the ability to control our emotions and outlook on life. All too often, I allow my thoughts to lead me to a place of pettiness and discontent. I allow greed, jealousy, and apathy to take over.

I don’t want to be that person, and I believe we can find the strength to control our thoughts. I believe in a God who can help me to focus on the blessings in my life.

So during the holidays this year, I’m going to challenge myself to focus on the good and let it outweigh any negative. If we find ourselves focusing on the gift we didn’t get, the family crisis we’re in the middle of, the exhaustion of all the events, the shrinking bank account, the loneliness and the frustrations, how will we have time to focus on all the beauty and joy in life?

Solitude

Some people can't be alone. They thrive on the presence of others, the interaction with people. They crave daily connection. Without the near constant closeness of other people, they become depressed and horribly lonely.

I am not one of those people.

Over the past 4 years, I've slowly realized that I crave solitude. After going through a period of time where I did very little to nurture myself, I was suddenly struck by an overwhelming need to burrow inward and become reacquainted with myself. What developed over the 4 years was about 2 years of soul-searching and a realization of a lot of flaws. A lot of flaws. I spent much of my time in a personal daze, going over my mistakes and the things about myself that I didn't like. When you spend most of your time by yourself, you find plenty of things that could use improvement. Of course, all of this self-reflection could have ended in poor self-esteem and depression . . . and it was leaning that way for awhile.

But then, at a certain point, I realized that I could change. I was not stuck being the person that I'd become. My flaws were not permanent. I could change. Not everything of course, no one is perfect and chasing perfection is ridiculous. But I could improve. I could become a better, happier person. A stronger person.

So, for the past two years, I've made a lot of changes. I wanted to be healthier. I wanted to find a place that felt like home. I wanted to become a better friend. I wanted to become a kinder, more compassionate person. I wanted to seek an honest relationship with God. I wanted to become the sort of person that the right someone could fall in love with someday. I wanted to seek out genuine people and be more genuine myself. I wanted to find adventure in my life.

As far as goals go, these are all pretty ambitious. I've made leaps and bounds in improving some, and struggled desperately with others. But throughout it all, my greatest tool and greatest weakness has been the solitude.

Solitude is a strength and a crutch. If you know yourself well, you are stronger and more capable of handling the pressures of life. But if you isolate yourself from others in an attempt at self-preservation, you can't grow. It is a fine line, and one I find myself struggling with lately. The calmest points in my life are when I am alone; it's how I recharge and center myself. But we were not created to spend all of our time alone. Even the most solitary of individuals craves connection with others. I'm certainly no exception and there are many times that the solitude becomes more of a burden than a reprieve. I'm not complaining; being alone has brought me to a better place in my life than I've been in a long time.

I suppose tonight I'm wondering about other perspectives on solitude. I'm wondering if my friends/family who read my blog have any insight on the part that solitude has played in their lives. Or maybe tonight I'm simply seeking connection.

The Ebb and the Flow

Have you ever stood on the beach, with your bare feet planted in the water? The waves rush toward you, and then inexorably pull back away, while you stay put, watching the movement going on around you. You can feel the sand giving way underneath the sides of your feet, feel the water streaming away from your toes. Sometimes my life feels like that, the ebb and the flow. Sometimes life rushes at me, overwhelming me with all the beauty and intensity that it brings. And then there are times when I stand planted, and life rushes back past me. I see life taking place around me, but I'm rooted in one spot.

Have you ever been stuck in a rut before? You're living life and maybe even living it well, but you aren't living it deeply and bravely. You don't even realize that you're in a rut until something wakes you up and throws you off track. All it takes is a moment, a song, an experience, a conversation, a feeling, a prayer, a breaking point, a realization that you've been a little adrift . . . and a little fragile. Suddenly the patterns in your life seem small. You can't just fall back into the routine, because now you're awake and aware of yourself again.

I've had this awakening experience over and over in my life. I'm a creature of habit. I find a comfort zone and nestle into it, patting myself on the back for navigating the rough waters of life so safely. But I don't look back on the drifting moments of my life with clarity. I remember the times when I woke up and lived my life; scary, complicated, glorious, ugly, frustrating, intense, loving, beautiful, and frenetic. Some of the best moments of my life were also nerve-wracking and complicated . . . but I lived them.

God doesn't want me to live a lukewarm, safe, complacent life. He doesn't want me to stand in the waves of life and let experiences rush past me. I believe that He wants me to trust Him and leap. This isn't the first time He's had to wake me up and tell me so, and I imagine it won't be the last. Life can be an incredibly beautiful adventure when God is at your side.

The magic of Christmas

Today I was sitting at my desk, working on a complicated spreadsheet, feeling frustrated by my self-perceived ineptitude, and basically just wrestling with an overall sense of grumpiness. Not my usual attitude (or at least I hope not!). In an attempt to banish my irritated mood, I decided to listen to some music. But nothing seemed right, it was all either too happy, too spirited, too depressing, etc. Nothing fit.

A lightbulb suddenly went off. Christmas music. I could listen to Christmas music. It's a whole six days after Thanksgiving, way past the acceptable Christmas music deadline. And yet there's been no Christmas music for me yet. No tree, no decorating, no . . . nothing.

This is very, very (very!!) unusual for me. I've always been a bit of a Christmas nut. My parents once bought me tons of Christmas lights for my birthday and I was ecstatic to decorate the outside of our house with them. I was always the first to beg to get the decorations out of storage and put them up. I pester my family about being scrooges and putting off getting a tree. I always push the envelope of the Christmas season, wanting it to start a little earlier. To me, Christmas has always been a bit of a magical time . . . the music, the lights, the luminescent ornaments, the scent of the tree, the spirit of giving, the anticipation, the time with family . . . it all added up to my favorite time of year. A time for magic.

But for some reason, this year, I haven't felt it. The wonderment . . . the anticipation . . . the magic. Part of me wonders if I've outgrown it. If, at the advanced age of 29, part of my child-like joy in Christmas has faded to a recognition that it's just another time of year, and a busy/expensive one at that. It made me feel a bit sad, like I'd grown up and grown past my love of Christmas. Goodbye happy-go-lucky, Christmas fanatic, fanciful Dacia . . . Hello grown-up, prosaic, Scroogy Dacia. Well, that just won't do!

So, on went the Christmas music. Two songs in, I started to feel like maybe it wasn't such an impractical decision to put up a tree for 3 weeks. Then I thought it might be fun to take a drive some evening and look at Christmas lights with some peppermint hot chocolate. And, oh, I should really put my Christmas playlist back on my phone so I can listen to the songs I like in the car . . .

And just like that, mood uplifted . . . I suppose there is something rather magical about Christmas after all, isn't there?