Rules Schmools or Why I’ve Been Called a Goody Two-Shoes

Posted on May 20, 2013 by

rsz_lighthouse

I’ll get this confession off my chest right now.

I…*cough cough*…follow rules.

I don’t mean some of the time, or most of the time, but practically ALL of the time, I observe instructions and adhere to the guidelines set out for me.

Real life example: I posted a just-for-fun quiz listing a bunch of things I might have done at a writer’s conference and asked which did Elise not do?  Almost all my friends pounced on the fictitious item that described me flirting my way past a “no entry” sign to an off-limits author lounge.  They just knew it wasn’t something I’d do, because it meant breaking rules.

Sometimes being predictable like that makes me feel boring.

I suspect that the U.S.A. gained a cultural identity rooted in questioning authority somewhere around the American Revolution. There’s still huge popularity for rebellion, sometimes at any cost. Don’t get me wrong, I do I think there’s a time and a place for it.

However, there are plenty of folks out there who will naturally assume that rule-followers are *I pause while I steel myself for this* complacent, passive, and of lesser intelligence.

My response is a polite, “Screw all y’all” (If such a thing might ever be deemed polite) and the following explanation:

I follow rules because I believe in initially respecting authority.

If I’m given evidence to the contrary (such as facts suggesting this authority should not be followed or respected), I assess it. I believe in giving people a shot before assuming that I have the better solution.

I learned years ago that the only way to approach something and really learn it is to accept that you’re a beginner with lots of room to grow.  If you think you “know” it and grasp the entire concept in the first explanation, chances are you’re missing out on the depth. Even worse: Deciding you’ll just figure it out your own way (unless you really do prefer the method that takes five to one hundred times longer).

Intelligence does not imply opposition to the status quo.  If you questioned everything, there would be no such thing as the wisdom of the elders who have gone before us, and I strongly believe in wisdom from gurus. Without the gurus in my life, I’d personally be floundering and doubting myself like nobody’s business. Honestly, wouldn’t we all?

I’m a rule-follower and I love it.

Rules create an orderly worldview, and I’ll readily admit that I don’t need more chaos in my life, thank you very much.

Someone told me that this shows my faith in the natural order of things.  Perhaps it does.

What about you? Do you gravitate toward rules, or away from them? Why do you think this is?

Posted in Daily Life | Tagged , | 5 Comments

How I Learned to Learn

Posted on May 13, 2013 by

English: Method for learning and education.

A book, an open air market, and a serious discussion with my mother all held equally valid stances as “learning time” in my childhood. I remember hearing from very early on that I was “always learning,” and I believed it.

Nevertheless, after completing my undergrad degree, I felt that there was so much stuff I didn’t know, especially when it came to the practical side of life and pursuing my dreams.

When a friend told me that an author who I wildly respected was not just a stay-at-home mom who wrote a bestselling novel series, but an educated woman with her master’s degree, my throat tightened into ice.

Do I need more formal education to be successful? Am I trying to flail through life unprepared?

I was tossed by an inner storm. I have many friends who feel behind or inferior to than those in their field who formally studied their subject of choice. The truth is, formal study only gets you so far.

Passionate, self-directed study gets you a heck of a lot further.

I didn’t choose to attend grad school. Instead, I recognized that my education wasn’t complete, and then pursued mentors, resources, and people to admire. I approached the speakers at conferences who had particularly moved me, thanked them, started friendships via email, and read their books.

I’ve been adopted as an unofficial student by three writing masters because of this process. They love how carefully I listen and take notes. They tell me books to read and the exercises to try. I read the books and tell them what I think. They explain where I’m still naïve, and I blush and try again.

I’ll probably never view my education as complete. Life’s demands constantly call us to greater heights of experience and knowledge. But education via a sanctioned institution, while incredibly helpful and structured, isn’t our only option.

You can use this to get started:

THE SELF-MADE GRAD SCHOOL

  1. Decide one thing (and only one) that you want to excel at.
  2. Ask people you know for recommended resources (books, conferences, etc) on this subject.
  3. Read the books, attend the events, and meet others on your same path. Befriend some of them.
  4. Put into practice as much of your learning as you possibly can. Create a personal schedule for this.
  5. Find or create a community to share your results.

If you can manage anything close to this, you will find your mind and heart growing so quickly, you’ll never regret your past choices in education, because you’re making a brilliant foray into your future.

Have you created your own “grad school”? I want to hear your stories!

Enhanced by Zemanta
Posted in Daily Life, Inspiration, Personal Growth | Tagged , , , , | 8 Comments

So Be It

Posted on May 6, 2013 by

SONY DSCAfter a long day at work, my husband was greeted by me: a vomiting machine crossed with an emotional basket case.

You might think I’m exaggerating, but there are just some embarrassing scenes that are too awful to make up.

At one point, my physical distress of morning sickness had peaked to such a humiliating level, I wept hysterically on the floor of our bathroom. As my whole body shook, James put his hand on my shoulder and murmured,

“It’s okay.”

I could feel deep, patient love flowing through his vocal chords. He started the shower and brought me a fresh change of clothes.

This is only going to get worse.

In a few months, I’ll deliver our first child and, as all mothers will tell me, that event’s the real kicker.

This isn’t “another pregnancy post.” This is an honest reflection (which I can’t do without my throat tightening) on truly loving someone and allow yourself to be loved.

James is willing to clean up after my bodily fluids (Great training for diapers! Not to mention when we’re both getting into the well-seasoned years!) and he doesn’t make jokes about checking the game scores on his phone when an awkward subject comes up. He knows that being with me through the wretched bits shows that he loves the me that goes deeper than whatever my physical body is doing at the time.

And I’m learning to let him come into that place.

The night I knelt, weeping and hacking, on our bathroom floor, I cried, “I don’t want you to see me like this!”

It felt safer to shut him out and compose myself, but had I done that, I’d have rejected the chance to let him love me and let myself be loved on the deepest level.

I don’t settle for things that are just nice or easy or comfortable, I want the full-fleshed, real thing, and that takes much more anguish and heartache to reach. I want love at its greatest, most transforming stage.

So be it.

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

-Kahlil Gibran

Posted in Uncategorized | 18 Comments

Warm Rain

Posted on April 29, 2013 by

Rain days

The downpour struck fast and without warning. The rain streaks looked like steady shoots of water from the sky. On the inside of the house, the rainfall looked like a little 2-year-old who went from happy to distraught in  a few minutes.

My husband and I were spending the day with my cousin’s family: mommy, daddy, and three kidlets. As parents-to-be, James and I have a special affection for this family. The easiest way to phrase our friendship: we adore this family and love getting to play and work alongside them, and we hope we’re somehow getting a little wiser in the process.

The chaos broke out at 5pm, right as I and my cousin (the mommy of the kidlets and my dear friend) were preparing dinner.  As lightning lit the sky outside, the littlest kidlet began to weep over small things. Her mom diagnosed the issue as teething, gave her daughter some medicine, and wrapped her in a blanket with her dolly. Five minutes later, the weepy 2-year-old was vomiting and wailing.

With thunder as our backdrop, I feverish deciphered the dinner directions while the sick little girl was bathed and tended to by both her parents as they removed her clothes and gave her a warm shower. My friend returned to the kitchen after settling her daughter in fresh clothes, and laughed shakily. “I should be so stressed right now, with dinner late and throw-up everywhere, but I’m so comfortable around you, I’m just not.”

It’s one of the most beautiful things someone has told me.

I savored this combination of trust and security that made a special kind of love thicken the air that evening. Dinner miraculously came together. The sweet 2-year-old threw up all over herself a second time and the washing process repeated.  Eventually, the storm abated.

I lay down on the couch after dinner, fatigued. The middle kidlet, aged 4 years, snuggled up beside me with his head on my hip. I’d visited his family every week for months, but this was the first time he deemed me safe for cuddling.

I experienced unconditional, trusting love in a new way that night. My cousin offered it in honesty that she knew, deep down, she didn’t have to keep up appearances with me. Her 4-year-old son showed this through wordless snuggling, letting me know I was “all right” in his book.

The best way I can describe how that feels:

It means the world.

Posted in Personal Growth, Relationships | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

Facing the Storm

Posted on April 22, 2013 by

shipLike a wise traveler, I plot my course for days before I begin.

I make careful plans, with a clear head, and no rushing. I then board my ship, check my charts, and run a finger along the map’s inked path from my port to the island I hope and pray to reach. It will test the limits of my endurance.

The first days go smoothly. The wind of excitement swells my sails, and each checkpoint landmark and star sign corresponds to my plans. Then the wind slackens, like a tired gasp. I’m fatigued, I’m pushing myself hard, and my heart lifts a plea to turn back, to rethink the choices I so carefully made.

waveThrough my spyglass I see a gray storm ahead, churning the waves white. Even worse, I foresee situations that will demand even more strength, determination, and force of will than I’ve yet given. My hand trembles on the wheel and I taste temptation to turn off course and circumvent the troubled waters.

I remind myself that knew those waters would be there from the moment I drew my course, yet the temptation to doubt overwhelms me. I grit my teeth. If I change paths now, I nullify the choices that laid my trip’s foundation and risk complete failure. I breathe deeply and steer straight, no changes made.

The saltwater whips up and stings my face, or is that tears? I feel my soul going dark. How did I ever believe I’d reach the island? It seems so far, so whimsical, so beyond the scope of such young and inexperienced travelers like me.

islandAfter hours in this stormy, hellish pain, I see the shape of the beast lurking under the glassy of still waters where I would have sailed to avoid the storm. It’s the Cracken, the multi-armed monster that would have crushed and drowned my ship and me.

Then I know my course was right, no matter how hard or awful. I cannot change it now. I must see this through. I will reach the island.

I used a sailing metaphor and, in my case, it represents my process of editing my second novel. I’m navigating a stormy night of the soul as this story is shaped, carved, and reformed. How about you?

Posted in Inspiration, Overcoming Obstacles, Personal Growth | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Spring Cleaning: 20 ideas for Metamorphosis

Posted on April 15, 2013 by

strawberries

  1. Push aside blankets in the dark cozy  corners and snuggle up to the window.
  2. Exchange your black wardrobe (I’m talking to you, Seattle!) for lighter-colored, or at least colorful attire.
  3. Allow yourself an iced version of your favorite caffeine stimulant, even if the weather’s only a smidge warmer than usual.
  4. Listen to Celtic, Folk, Instrumental, and Swing style music—it will make you want to go outside, perhaps even dance a jig. If you don’t dance, allow yourself to skip.
  5. Unfold your short-sleeved shirts and hang them in your closet for easy grabbing.
  6. Touch the tiny new leaves on the tips of the trees as you pass them on the sidewalk.
  7. Notice how, when it’s a sunny day, drivers really are nicer when you pull out in front of them to re-park your car. Breathe a prayer of thanks.
  8. Scatter fresh bouquet of anything (leaves, clippings, flowers, pretty branches) throughout your house.
  9. Gasp every time the clouds part and you can see the mountains (or just gasp every time the blue sky opens wide).
  10. Stash a book and old blanket in your car so you can run to the park and read when a sun break bursts.
  11. Smile out the window at a beautiful morning, then take that smile inside and send it back to yourself through the bathroom mirror.
  12. Roll down your car windows and let the wind whisper its excitement to you.
  13. Befriend a small child and listen to all the quirky, wonderful things he/she has to tell you.  I cannot stress enough how much happier this makes me.
  14. Paint something postcard-sized.  It’s small, manageable, and totally not ostentatious.
  15. Eat dinner outside, even if you wrap your legs in a quilt halfway through.
  16. Splurge $20 at the thrift store for new fashion inspiration (Thank you, Macklemore).
  17. Walk through the garden section at your grocery store and hear the seedlings shouting how glad they are to be growing.
  18. Make popsicles and eat them. I dare you to not feel wonderful after doing this.
  19. Pick up that New Year’s resolution that fell by the wayside and use the spring to inspire you. A new shoot is pushing up through the dark soil.  You can do this.
  20. Learn a new song. Sing it to yourself. Sing it to someone you love.
Posted in Daily Life, Inspiration | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

Letters and Love Notes and Leaflets–Oh My!

Posted on April 8, 2013 by

notesThe pile lies before me in a daunting mountain as I sprawl on the carpeted floor of my office. The papers glitter with patterns and textual swirls the decorate years and years worth of notes. I must face the truth: The time has come to part with precious things I’ve stashed away.

I am a pack rat when it comes to preserving pieces of the written word.

When my closets recently underwent an organizational tsunami, what rose to the crest of my cleaning wave was my box (okay, fine, it was an embarrassingly large heap) of saved notes.

I found the long, heartfelt silly account of summer camp, written by a dear friend on the back of soup labels. I refolded it with a smile. This I would still keep.

My heart twinged as I turned over the card penned on my high school graduation by the first boy I loved. I read it one more time, then dropped it into the pile that would leave my home.

I unfurled the list of snarky marriage advice, written in tongue-in-cheek style for my bridal shower by my then-unwed cousin, and laughed hard enough to jerk tears into my eyes. This I also saved.

My treasure notes lay buried among stacks of cards with messages that held no enduring value to me.

Some of these notes are signed by people I’ve stopped speaking to. We’ve grown apart, moved on, or taken different paths in life.

Am I the same person today who these letters were once written to?

Sure, I recognize my brother’s goofy humor from his postcards, and my best friend’s strong voice of passionate encouragement still sounds familiar, but were these letters written to a past self who I once was, someone who I’ve outgrown like an old reptile skin, but who still vaguely resembles the woman called “Elise”?

As I “traveled back in time,” I felt emotions resurface that I’d suppressed and forgotten. When I tossed the notes aside, I released their authors into the past, perhaps never to return…or perhaps they will, but hoarding old notes won’t be the deciding factor.

I remembered who I was, who I am, and made room for the woman I’ll still become. And all because I cleared out some old letters.

Have you had a similar “time travel” experience while cleaning out your house (i.e. your closet or under your bed)?

Posted in Daily Life, Inspiration, Personal Growth | Tagged , , , | 4 Comments

The Big Question: Boy or Girl?

Posted on April 1, 2013 by

Cover of "My Baby (Little Nugget)"James and I have discovered the sex of our baby.

Ya’ll ready for this?

As I prepared myself for this ultimate reveal—this all-defining moment—I realized the enormous importance my society places on gender.

I have a pregnant cousin who’s choosing to not to peek at her baby’s sex. She told me that the question, “Do you know what you’re having?” irks her. She wants to answer, “We’re having a squirrel!” just to show her interviewers how ridiculous their question was. Isn’t news of a precious baby enough without having to know the sex?

Huh. Point taken.

In the days before the sex-defining ultrasound, I asked my husband what activities he looked forward to doing with our child.

For myself, I’d not been able to get past, “I want to read these special books, snuggle a lot, sing to Baby…and…and…” here I’d stutter, wanting the crutch of gender to tell me what appropriate things I should plan.

With his lips over my rounded stomach, my husband cooed, “Hi Baby! I can’t wait to take you for hikes and backpacking and teach you how to shoot guns!”

I giggled and said, “Wait, which sex do you think Baby is?”

He chortled, “A girl!”

I realized once I’d given it further thought that he’d made a good point. I’d told myself I wanted a son for Boy Scout adventures with my husband into the mountains, but I’d never stopped to ask myself why our daughter couldn’t have outdoor escapades or learn gun safety.

I’ve yearned for a daughter with whom I could share my heart of hearts, revel in talks about boys, and have for a close special friend. Yet my very best friend (my husband) is a boy, and there’s no reason a son of mine needn’t share his romantic yearnings with me or be a cherished friend, too.

The realization: I’ve perpetuated so much of this gender-stereotyping, and all without even trying.

chickThere are extreme stances on this issue, some of which harbor very noble intentions.  A mother who decided to not announce her baby’s sex is one such example. I also found myself nodding at several points in this article about Sweden’s decision to not market gender specific toys. I don’t consider myself a particular extremist on the issue, but it’s now demanding my attention.

I remember phrases, often expressed as mere generalities, like “Girls often aren’t as good at math and science,” and they affected me, though I don’t know to what extent.

If my brother, who chose Electrical Engineering, had chosen to study Dance, I’d like to think my parents would also have encouraged him, as they encouraged me with my pursuit of Creative Writing. If we’re expressing our dreams, it’s important to not squash those, and especially to not corral young minds to adhere to certain gender-permissible guidelines, just because it meets society’s expectations. This, too, feels like part of the argument.

I still haven’t told you my baby’s sex, have I? Funny, that was my intent.

James and I are having a baby boy.

He will be encouraged to flourish in his talents, abilities, and dreams. He will have many well-meaning people tell him that certain activities are for boys, and others are forbidden to him. I’ll deal with those conversations as they come.

Before we knew the sex of our baby, I said to my husband, “Our baby will be expressive, boy or girl, because Baby’s mommy is very expressive in how she thinks and feels.” He agreed with me.

Baby will learn to fear the strength of emotions, to voice Baby’s thoughts, to communicate. This is a genderless gift, and a great starting place.

We’ll figure out the rest as we go.

Posted in Daily Life, Personal Growth | Tagged , , , , | 16 Comments

Letter to My Firstborn

Posted on March 25, 2013 by

Sunrise on LagoonDear Little One,

I write this letter early in the morning light. It’s the day when I’ll find out a huge part of you. In the moments before I learn whether you’re a little boy or a little girl, I cradle my tummy and feel the warmth there.

You’ve been keeping me up at night. Perhaps you get restless when I am restless. Can you feel my excitement for you?

Your daddy and I have been talking and talking about the arrival of our newest house guest. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms and sing to you. I want to read you the books that your grandpa, my daddy, read to me.

I’m a little afraid of you, too. You’re going to take over my life, but I’ll get to hold your tiny hand in mine soon, I’ll be a mother and friend to a little human who grew inside me—and that’s pure  magic.

No one else will have that bond with you. I’ll get tired and cranky at times, but you’ll still love me and I’ll still love my bundle of love and tears…you.

I predict you’ll be an expressive little person who understands the importance of emotions, regardless of your sex. You’ll be showered with affection from your parents, I guarantee that.

Your daddy beside me in the car says, “I can’t wait to see you. I can’t wait to meet you.” Sometimes he kisses my tummy and talks to you. I feel you flutter and kick often. You’re moving more than ever.

Now I’m in the doctor’s office waiting for my ultrasound, sipping tea. It’s almost time!

Love,

Mommy

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Lullaby

Posted on March 18, 2013 by

Sleep, little child, and dream for me

Dream me a white-plumed apple tree

All a-bloom in the early spring

Dream me a song to sing

-“Apple Tree,” Songs from Dreamland

English: Little Boy Blue illustration for Dens...

From lullabies to We-Sing videos, I spent hours and hours of my childhood singing. I never forgot what I sang. There was collection of lullabies called Songs from Dreamland that my parents played on a cassette tape for bedtime. I envisioned magical creatures stirring in the boughs of a massive tree as I drifted off to sleep as I listened to the song above.

These lyrics come from “Rain Lady” in the same album:

Soft in the darkness the Rain Lady comes

Twirling her with the tips of her thumbs

They were probably my first introduction to the power of comparing nature to human characteristics (I wouldn’t know till much later that it was called ‘anthropomorphism’).

When I was older, I glued my eyes to the colorful computer screen of the CD-ROM game “Mixed-Up Mother Goose.” The land of nursery rhymes was awash with confusion—Mary had lost her little lamb, Little Boy Blue couldn’t find his horn, and Jack Sprat and his wife desperately needed their ham for supper. When I returned the lost object to its owner, the characters would perform their nursery rhyme to thank me.

Humpty Dumpty, shown as a riddle with answer, ...

I remember asking myself, “Why did Humpty Dumpty sit on a wall and then fall and die?” (morbid for a six-year-old, but I was quite serious and sober). Why did Little Tommy Tucker sing for his supper, get bread and butter, than worry about finding a wife? (I could relate a little bit. I was two years old when I told my pediatrician that I was worried about finding myself a good husband).

With this baby on the way, I’m realizing that whatever songs I choose to play for my little one will burrow deep into his or her heart. Will I find songs that speak of beauty? Songs that have profound meaning? Songs that rhyme but make absolutely no sense? Will these songs form some of my child’s first memories?

To this day, I listen closely to song lyrics. I can’t help but hear them, trying to piece the meaning out of them.

Hush , little baby

Curl up in the moonbeam

Let all the stars kiss you

With silver wind songs.

From sparkling white snow lands

Come twinkling bright crystals

That cling to the branches

Of tall pretty blue spruce.

They drink from the river

That flows from my heart.

-Winter Lullaby, Elise Stephens

Do you remember song and rhymes from your childhood? Any clues about how they’ve impacted you?

Enhanced by Zemanta
Posted in Daily Life, Inspiration, Personal Growth, Relationships | Tagged , , | 8 Comments