May 7th, 2009 | link
Self
May 4th, 2009 | link
My early self-portraits appeared effortlessly and seemed like equivalents for my deeper emotions. Without knowing it, I was trying to peel back the layers that shroud and bind us all as we struggle to reveal our own authentic selves. - Joyce Tenneson
That is what I want: to peel back the layers that shroud and bind so as to reveal my own authentic self. I’ve taken very few self-portraits, and the few that I have almost always involve elements of ambiguity. The questions Who am I? Who am I meant to be? How am I seen? pace around in my head like an anxious teenage boy, debating on whether or not to call her and ask her out on a date.
Who I am, who I am meant to be, and how I am seen are not questions that can be answered. Rather, they must be experienced, which requires me to step out of my ambiguity and into new, pure light, the light that friends around me gracefully and graciously shine.
Simplicity
May 4th, 2009 | link
I heard Anne Lamott speak a few weeks ago at Mercer Island Presbyterian Church. She isn’t doing any speaking tours this year, but she made an exception and spoke here in Seattle so she could have an excuse to come visit a friend. I was thrilled when I heard she was speaking, as she’s been one of my favorite authors for years. I’ve probably read Bird by Bird and Traveling Mercies 5 times each.
These are the notes I took during the hour and a half talk.
“…but I let myself take notes anyway.”
-keep taking notes, even if you don’t know what they are for
1. It’s ok not to know more than you do right now.
-Everything you need to know for the now is already inside you
-You start where you are
-Driving at night, in the fog, and you can only see a few feet in front of you — remember that you can make the whole journey that way
-”Courage is fear that has said its prayers.”
2. The most profound thing youc an do on a daily basis is much, much less.
-make a list of things to do for the day, and immediately take 3 things off the list
-”No.” is a complete sentence
-”…said you would” is the worst reason to do anything
-The most incredible, revolutionary thing you can do in a day is to do less
3. Failures and mistakes and false starts are essential to the process.
-slow, slow, quick, quick
4. You get to ask for a lot of help.
-Listen to the feedback
-Write it all down
•••••••••••••••••••••••
As I’ve reflected on what Ms. Lamott said, I am reminded that the most beautiful things in the world are the most simple. In the last year of my life I have been taught by my close friends that one of the most important things in life is sharing good food and good wine with those you love. The lure of success or fame or financial accumulation can’t even come close to the glory that is to be shared in a meal with friends.
I am beginning to understand that the truest beauty lies in the simple. When I begin to feel myself over-analyzing, or working so hard that my body can’t keep up, I try to stop, breathe in deeply, out slowly, and remind myself that to do less is to be more. There is far too much in life to sit and bathe in, to fully rest in, that is missed if I am obsessed with the concept of more.
So I stop and I breathe. I take notes on the beautiful that I experience every day, and I remind myself that I am ok, that life is going to be ok, and that I have people around me that love me and a God holding me that is not going to let go.
Family Vacation
May 3rd, 2009 | link
Family vacation. Those two words in that order hold a mixture of rest and terror when they are put side by side. Family holds its own various meanings, and vacation does as well. Sometimes they are such opposite ideas. Family is both wonderful and awful. There are awkward interactions and conversations, great memories and painful ones that are quickly brought to mind, and weird aunts and uncles who have always had that unmistakeable smell that is unique to only them. Vacations have feelings of rest, peace, getting away, sleep, warm sun on your skin and playfulness. Put Family and Vacation together and what you get is a birthday cake made of moldy bread. It’s exciting and ewww at the same time.
The birthday cake moments are those times when there is no time. The things that happen occur as if there are no clocks in the world. They are when you’re sitting in that seafood restaurant on the coast, eating shrimp and copious amounts of Alaskan King Crab legs, your hands covered in butter and joy, napkins all over the place. The moldy bread moments are the arguments, the frustrations, the I want to go here and But I want to go there! moments, when no amiable conclusion can be reached, and everyone ends up sitting in the hotel room with sunburns of anger all over their bodies, and there is no lotion strong enough to balm the emotions. I believe that it’s impossible to have a vacation without both aspects.
I have a few distinct memories from our Longbrake family vacations. As I write those words, the very first thing I think of is dad, me, and my sister Stephanie all sitting in our Chevy Econoline 500 van, in the driveway with the engine running as we anxiously await departure for a 24 hour drive to Jensen Beach, Florida, and mom is running back inside because she forgot something, running back out to the van, then running back in again because something’s still not right. I can feel it. Mom was always anxious like that. I bet dad planned for those moments, knowing that if he wanted to leave at 7 am he’d make sure we all got in the car around 6:45 because of the inevitable mom-running-back-in-the-house moments. She was a pro.
The other memory is one of the most glorious memories in my mind. Most of our vacations as kids involved a large conversion van and 20+ hours of driving. My mother, in all of her brilliance, was very imaginative in the things she thought of to help occupy me and my sister on those long summer drives. She created what she called Fun Boxes, and though they had a simple title, they were filled with depth and excitement for me as a 6 year old boy. Fun Boxes were large, Rubbermade bins in which she put coloring books, audio tapes, card games, candy like it was Halloween, but Halloween on crack cocaine, and a mixture of Oooo I wonder what’s inside this year! sort of things. And the thing was, they weren’t items just to keep us occupied for the trip. They were items in which mom and dad could participate with us in the fun. Dad usually drove the long hours, for which I am incredibly grateful for now as a 25 year old. Mom would often sit with us in the back and play with us, coloring in our books or playing our favorite Old Maid or Go Fish card games.
I also remember dad always, always, always being willing to stop whenever we needed to stop. One vacation to North Carolina I conveniently got a bladder infection, the bane of every road trip’s existence. But dad never complained once, but continually reassured me that we could stop every time I needed to go, no matter what. I probably had to stop 2 or 3 times per hour at some points, and dad must have been frustrated in his mind, but he didn’t let it show, which has impacted me deeply to this day.
Family vacations are never what they are anticipated to be, and often they are so much more than they are anticipated to be. What’s going to happen? Where will we go? What kind of food will we eat? What fish will we catch? Will the beach be crowded? Will it be awesome? Yes. And no. But is it worth it? Yes. It always is.