Can't Stop the Noise

Do you ever feel like there is just too much "noise" in the world?

We are inundated with noise-- alerts, text messages, emails, social media updates, endless visual images, constant breaking news, any music we want at our fingertips, and the helpful (but annoying) voices of Siri, Alexa, and Google Maps-- from the time we wake up until the time we go to bed.  We are experiencing stimuli at a rate that we have never seen before. It has become a very noisy world and we have no way to know what impact this is having on our bodies and our brains.  There is a song and video by Kenny Chesney aptly title "Noise" that perfectly illustrates this new world we live in.

"Noise" by Kenny Chesney

Twenty-four hour television, get so loud that no one listens

Sex and money and politicians talk, talk, talk

But there really ain't no conversation

Ain't nothing left to the imagination

Trapped in our phones and we can't make it stop, stop

This noise

Yeah we scream, yeah we shout 'til we don't have a voice

In the streets, in the crowds, it ain't nothing but noise

Drowning out all the dreams of this Tennessee boy

Just trying to be heard in all this noise

Every room, every house, every shade of noise

All the floors, all the walls, they all shake with noise

We can't sleep, we can't think, can't escape the noise

We can't take the noise, so we just make

Noise

Link to video: https://youtu.be/k-VAXRC_hxk

How do you get away from it all? How do you know when you need to get away?

As one who enjoys quiet, I would expect that I would intentionally add more of it to my day, every single day. What I have noticed is just the opposite.  More and more I seem to be filling my days with "noise".  From checking my phone first thing in the morning, to scrolling through social media throughout the day, to frequently monitoring the news, to researching various topics on the internet, to watching favorite television programs, to shopping online, to texting or talking to friends, to doing a combination of all of those--I am living in a state of near constant noise.  Even if the noise is good or worthwhile or necessary, it is still noise.  There are times when we need to clear our heads.  We may not always recognize the signs, but they are there.  

One of the ways I like to escape the noise is by going for a walk outside in nature.  When I go outside, I can focus on the good noises- chirping birds, running water, crunching leaves, rustling wind. Those noises don't overwhelm, they cleanse. As I walk, my mind becomes noticeably clearer.  I tune in to the rhythmic sounds of my feet hitting the ground and look up at the vast sky above me. I pause by the water and watch the current flow. I start to notice the little things around me.  Soon I am part of nature and not separate from it. Problems that have troubled me start to find solutions.  As my mind opens up, creative ideas flow in.  I can't really explain why it happens, but there is something about the quiet that changes my mind.  I can only assume that there is also something about the noise that changes it in a different way.  

Recently, I took advantage of a warm day to go for a walk. The sky was heavy with clouds, but I decided the fresh air would be worth it.  I was enjoying a relaxing walk when it unexpectedly started to rain. I wasn't dressed for rain so I picked up my pace and headed for home, but along the way I observed something interesting.  Although I could hear the rain hitting the ground, I couldn't see it right away.  Then, I could see the rain in the air long before I could feel it on my skin.  I could watch the rain accumulate on my jacket, but I didn't yet feel wet.  It took awhile before all the little raindrops accumulated and built up to a point that made me feel wet and uncomfortable.  It was surprising to me how subtle the change was. I expected to be soaked right away. 

This made me wonder if this is similar to what happens with the noise in our life. We hear  sounds all day long, but we don't feel anything. We see all of the images coming at us, but we don't notice any immediate effect. We put up with the steady drone of noise until we are vaguely irritated and upset or worse, but we still can't quite put our finger on what is wrong.  As it is with the rain- we don't get wet immediately, but we all get wet eventually- it is with the noise.  We are fooling ourselves if we think this constant daily mental onslaught isn't having an effect on us. 

Most of us are drowning in a sea of noise.  We have gotten so used to the steady stream of noise and visual stimulation, the constant hum of traffic and technology, the never ending habit of multi-tasking, and the urgent drumbeat of news and information; that we no longer know what to do with quiet. In fact, we make excuses for why we don't need it.  We convince ourselves that we work better with background noise, that having headphones on with music is comforting, that checking our phones frequently is calming, that staring at a screen is relaxing.  We fill every moment with activity, images, and sounds; and then resign ourselves to the idea that quiet is for other people.  We are too busy to be quiet, we aren't wired to be quiet, we function better in noise and chaos.  Although ALL of our brains need it more than ever, quiet seems to become more elusive each day.  We need a brain break!

How do you find time to add quiet to your day? And what does it take to be truly quiet?  
There is not one right answer for everyone.  But, as the noise in our life continues to increase  finding quiet is something we need to become more intentional about.  Can you spare two minutes for silence? That's all it takes for real health benefits to kick in!

"Take time every day to experience quiet. Research shows that silence has measurably relaxing effects — even more so than listening to relaxing music. As little as two minutes of silence reduces heart rate, breathing rate, and blood pressure. If there are no quiet places for you to retreat to, consider getting a pair of ear plugs or invest in a set of noise canceling headphones or ear buds."

Overstimulation: Taming A Modern Problem that Leads to Anxiety, Deane Alban

Walking outside is one activity that helps me to become quiet, but there are so many other ways to embrace silence.  Here are a few examples of how you can create pockets of quiet in your day:

Sitting silently wherever you are

Praying

Practicing mindfulness
Meditating

Walking/being in nature
Committing to technology free times/zones in your day

As I have become more committed to periods of intentional silence, I have seen personal benefits such as feeling calmer and experiencing more mental clarity.  But science is also on the side of silence!  Here are some notable benefits:

1. Silence relieves stress and tension
2. Silence replenishes our mental resources
3. In silence we can tap into the brain's default mode network that helps us think deeply and creatively
4. Getting quiet can regenerate brain cells 

Source: "Why Silence is So Good For Your Brain" by Carolyn Gregoire

If you are feeling a little overwhelmed in your day, or just vaguely out of sorts; I would suggest you try adding in some times of silence- even if it's just a few minutes.  Try one of the above suggestions or come up with one of your own. It might be the easiest thing we can do to decrease the stress and tension in our lives and increase our mental well being.

 Embrace the silence!

  

Let's Talk About Breasts...

After getting a mammogram this week, breasts are on my mind- - specifically, the strange and complicated relationship women have with their breasts!  It's an unusual thing to write about, but I’m going to give it a shot. I can only imagine what will come up on my computer after searching for breast related images :-0!

As women, we have been given this incredible machine of a body that does amazing things, but it is a body that also changes a lot over time.  Can you remember being young (pre-boobs) and thinking that this was the carefree body you were going to have forever?  Then one day, something started to change.  Officially the term was "budding", but more practically it meant that it was time for a string of camisoles, undershirts, tank tops, or the (super embarrassing) training bra.  It was time to cover up because our bodies were starting to change.  It is around this point that many young girls became confused about how to feel about their bodies.  Is this a good thing, and if so, why do I have to spend so much time covering it up??

At some point, those "buds" actually became real breasts and nothing but a real bra would do.  For some girls, this development happened too early and they were the only ones who had them.  For others, it happened late and they were certain they were the only ones who didn't.  Some are still waiting for their breasts to come! And for sure, whatever size you had; it was never quite right.  Too big, too small, wrong shape, wrong structure.  There was a lot of attention paid to something that was completely out of your control, and not all of that attention was welcome.  Why was this a thing that we were judged on? Why did the boys seem so fascinated? And what was up with all of the bra strap snapping in middle school?!?

As time went on, we became used to what we had.  We tried to find bras that fit our particular shape and size and were thankful for inventions like the Miracle Bra, the T-shirt bra, or the Minimizer.  We learned to dress our body type and figure out what clothes flattered our large breasts, or made the most out of our small ones.  Although it was still more work than it needed to be, (why do I have to pack a regular bra, sports bra, strapless bra, and t-back bra for one vacation?!?) we made peace with what we had.  Apparently, this was the body we would have forever.

Then...there was pregnancy.

Every woman has a different experience with pregnancy, but for some their breasts were the first to say, "Hey look at us, we're pregnant!".  One morning I seemingly woke up with these oddly large and ultra sensitive vessels attached to my chest. I felt no connection to them.  It was as if aliens had landed on my chest and set up shop. They were sore, swollen, and made me feel 3 times my normal body size.   What the heck was going on?   Ah yes, thank you pregnancy hormones! 

Turned out that all of that pregnancy fun was just preparing our body for the next step- nursing. If we thought the pregnancy boobs were out of this world, then we had no idea what the nursing boobs would be like!  Enormously full one minute and completely deflated the next, there was no way to have any real idea of what they would look like from hour to hour.  I remember being measured and fitted for a bridesmaid dress during this time.  When I returned for the second fitting, the seamstress was like "No, no, no! Something is wrong! Your breasts were an inch higher when I measured you last time."  Yes lady, I know. I am a human freak show. There is no telling where they will be next. But, I am an amazing human freak show who has the wonderful ability to feed my babies :-). Although appreciative of the miracle, I was relieved that this wouldn't be the body I had forever.  

After the baby years were in the past and we had been pregnant with and nursed all the babies we had been blessed with, we realized that our breasts were not what they once were.  The oddities that we happily put up with because we knew they were serving a greater purpose were now mostly gone, as was the greater purpose.  In some cases, we felt our breasts were gone too! Our boobs returned to normal, mere mortal breast status and then we had to get to know them again.  Not as big, not as firm, not as high, not as perky; whatever the case was we had to get to know them all over again.  We started to look for new bras and tops with things like "structure" and "support".  We loved the word "engineered" when it came to our underpinnings and our swimwear. We started to have a new relationship with our new breasts. We were pretty sure that this would be the body we would have forever.  

Around this time, we had the first of our friends to be shockingly diagnosed with breast cancer.  We considered ourselves way too young to have this happen. We watched as she made the decision- sometimes voluntary, sometimes not- to remove her breasts to save her life.  We supported her decision. We heard her joke about how it was a no-brainer and how she looked forward to her post-cancer reconstruction.  A boob job we called it, just to make all of us feel better.  

We were prompted by age or circumstance to get our first mammogram and complete the family history chart of cancer.  Somehow we never realized there was so much cancer in our families.  We learned about the risk factors for breast cancer and the BRCA gene and made decisions with our doctors about genetic testing and risk level and how often we should be monitored.  Meanwhile, another friend found a lump and was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She was "lucky" in that she would only  need a portion of her breast removed.  We rejoiced at the good news and were reminded that we really needed to do those monthly exams.  

Time went on, a mother was diagnosed, someone you knew died, another friend went through chemotherapy. mastectomies were done.  We saw what the scars looked like.  We attempted to lessen the discomfort of chemo and radiation. We witnessed the pain in reconstruction.  We saw the incredible bravery and resilience of our friends and family members. We learned that the mammogram was our friend, early detection was key, and we started to pay more attention to what was happening in our breasts.  

Then the day came when they saw something on your mammogram, and they wanted a closer look.  You sat there staring at the image on the ultrasound while you waited for the doctor to come in. You looked at the blob on the screen trying to determine if it was friend or foe. You had been through this process enough to know that this wasn't normal.  You started to make those special deals with God that you only make during desperate moments.  Remove whatever it is, take both of my breasts, I don't need them- just  keep me alive!  The breasts- your breasts- that had been a focal point to so much of your life became disposable in one scary moment in an overheated little waiting room.  As you waited days for biopsy results, you continued to make peace with the idea that your breasts were history.  You started imaging how you would look without them. You and your friends joked about the perky C cups you were going to get when you got your new boobs. 

 You were lucky this time, all was clear.  Meanwhile, another friend was diagnosed with breast cancer.  

So the relationship with your breasts changed again.  Yes, we still fussed about the size and shape.  We added in the issue of gravity and we searched high and low for bras and swimsuits with even more advanced engineering. We may have even considered surgery to add or subtract or lift what we had.  But now we knew that healthy breasts were a gift-- but possibly a gift with an expiration date.  Sure, I might have been lucky this year but was it only a matter of time before I was next? It turned into a strange relationship where you tried to be thankful and appreciative of a body part while you also accepted that it might have to removed someday.  

Meanwhile, another friend waited on a biopsy.  

This new relationship with your breasts can be a difficult one. Some women have great stress about it and others take it in stride.  Some avoid mammograms for fear that they may find something.  Others do monthly exams meticulously because they want to be the first to find it if something is there.   Regardless of how calmly or anxiously you walk into your mammogram, there is at least one tiny moment in time where you will silently consider the fact that this may be the time when they find something. And if they do, you will gladly trade your breasts for your life--if that is an option, and you really hope it is.  I can't think of another situation where the choice seems so stark and so clear.

So what do we do? We continue to joke about the toll that time and gravity is taking on our breasts.  We search high and low for the perfect bra.  We try to be better about monthly self exams. We go get our yearly mammograms. We continue to wear our pink ribbons and t-shirts, and we walk in breast cancer walks, and we contribute to breast cancer research, and we support our sisters who have been diagnosed,  and we celebrate the advances, and we pray for a cure, and we live.  We live with our love 'em or hate 'em, too big or too small, too high or too low, crazy, non-perfect breasts because that is the only option we have. And we still think, and now hope, that this will be the body that we will have forever.

This post is dedicated to all of my dear friends and family members who have battled breast cancer. Thank you for showing me what bravery looks like.

What's Your One Word?

Around the end of the year you may have seen posts asking you to come up with one word that would guide you through 2018.  I was intrigued by this idea.  I am not one to make resolutions, but I liked the idea of a touchstone word that could guide me throughout the year.  After committing to a fairly short social media like thought process, I came up with the word "love".  Love seemed to be something that was lacking in the world in 2017 and I could see several ways that I could add more love to my life.

In the busyness of the holidays, traveling, and getting my girls ready to go back to college; I hadn't really given my word much thought.  An early January illness was not allowing for quality reflection time.  This virus not only took me out of my normal routine, but it also took me out of my normal bed.  In an effort to avoid contaminating and disturbing my husband, I moved to my daughter's room.  I slept in there several nights and then one morning I woke up and saw this:

In the hazy light of the morning, my bleary eyes focused and there was my one word looking down on me!  I knew the sign was hanging there, but somehow I hadn't taken notice of it until that morning.  I immediately remembered how I had chosen love to be my word for the year and that I still hadn't done anything about it.  This was the sign I needed that it was time to get started.

So, love...  How can I apply this one word to all areas of my life? 

Physical

 I commit to loving myself enough to take better care of myself.  It is easy to put off working out the way I know I should or going to regular checkups or making the right dietary choices.  But most often those actions are guided by guilt, fear, obligation, or laziness.  What if I used love as my motivation? I love myself enough to make good choices that will allow me to live a longer and healthier life able to do more things that I enjoy.  Love feels better than guilt.

Mental/Emotional

 I couldn't figure out a clear way to separate these two categories, so I am going to address them together.  It is easy to fall into a negative mindset.  Bad news seems to come at us every day, and as a sensitive person I can easily become overwhelmed with negative vibes and start shifting to a darker state of mind.  Reminding myself to focus on love helps me to see through the noise and stay centered on the important things- the real things in life that matter like my family, friends, and faith.  

Another necessary part of this is a commitment to self love.  Like many people, I can be very hard on myself at times.  That little voice in the back of my head can be pretty tough and unforgiving.  It is easy to believe the negative script that often runs on a continuous loop. It is only with effort and intention and love that I can change that script and choose to offer myself the same kind of grace that I extend to others.  

My new mental checklist to tackle those tough thoughts:

• Determine if negative thought is connected to a real (or only imagined) mistake
• Seek to learn something from the mistake
• Seek forgiveness of others if necessary 
• Forgive myself
• Choose to let it go 
• Move on 
• Repeat as often as necessary

Self love will probably be the most challenging one on the list, but hopefully the one that produces the greatest reward.

Financial

This was a harder one for me.  What does love have to do with finances? But, it is very similar to the Physical category.  I want to use love as my guide to make financial decisions that will benefit my family both now and later.  My intense parental love may urge me to buy everything my children want or need right now.  But my disciplined love knows that they will gain more through my more restrained hand in spending. Love means spending wisely and saving money for the future in a way that will provide financial comfort and security to all of us.  I want to use love to guide my charitable giving.  Instead of saying yes to any organization that comes along, I want to truly give to those that are nearest to my heart.  Spend, save, and give with love.  I think I can work with that. 

Relational

 The first thing I thought of when I saw this category was the oft quoted passage from 1 Corinthians. This verse is very popular for weddings (mine included) and with good reason.  It describes love in the truest sense of the word- not the romantic, flowery, butterflies in my stomach kind of love, but the real deal.  

This is the love that makes us work. The love that makes us do things that we don't always want to do. The love that makes us forgive others even when we don't want to.  The love that makes us love the different, the difficult, the disagreeable, the impossible, the unlovable.  This is the love that never stops loving even when we have occasionally stopped liking.

I would like to remember that love in all of my relationships.  It's not always easy-ok, it's very rarely easy-but that is what makes it worth it.  I hope to be better about expressing and demonstrating that love with those closest to me, and those I encounter on a day to day basis.  I want my first response to be one rooted in love. And if it can't be my first response, I want it to be my lasting response. 

Spiritual

 As a Christian, I am not only encouraged to love; I am commanded to love. "Love each other just as I have loved you." This is a fundamental tenant of my faith.  As I grow to understand the unfathomable depth of God's love for us, I am compelled to reflect that love outward.  As the year progresses, I want to continue to explore and understand God's love and find new ways to love each other.  

It's Not a Resolution

As I wrote earlier, I don't usually do resolutions.  It is too easy to turn them into a win/lose, pass/fail situation.  I am hoping for long term, continuous, forward progress. I know there will be days (or weeks) when I fail and I don't use love as my touchstone.  There will be times when I am overwhelmed, tired, or short tempered and love will not be the first emotion that comes across to others.  But, I hope that I succeed more than I fail and that I can always go back to my touchstone the next day.  I love a good visual reminder, so I can always go to my daughter's room if I need to see my word lit up, bigger than life!

But for the rest of the time, I can look down at a special bracelet I purchased and see a gentle reminder that I am going to choose love this year. Only Love Today will be my new mantra for 2018!

"Today I will choose love.  If I mistakenly choose distraction, perfection, or negativity over love, I will not wallow in regret. I will choose love next."

Rachel Macy Stafford, Only Love Today

*If you also chose love as your word this year, you may find this bracelet or related materials at: https://shop.handsfreemama.com/

The Deep, Dark Hole of Pinterest

Help! Have you ever gotten lost on Pinterest? Have you ever gone on to check one thing only to realize LONG periods of time have passed? Has your Pinterest path become so convoluted that you couldn't remember where it started? I confess that I have had this experience more than a few times.

Last week I was battling a virus and one of the side effects was that I couldn't sleep.  Coughing, congestion, and general malaise kept me awake a good part of the night.  What can you do in the middle of the night? Watching TV was too stimulating, reading a book was too taxing, so low commitment browsing on Pinterest seemed to be the  answer.  That's where I found myself layers deep in travel related pins.

 It started innocently enough (it always does...).  On a recent trip I had over packed and found myself uncomfortably weighed down by my own luggage. I needed to figure out a better way to pack and I thought I would go to Pinterest for suggestions.  This was a very practical topic to explore. Everyone can use a few good packing tips to make traveling easier. The search for packing tips led to pins about the advantage of rolling clothing (roll everything and layer it, no flat stacking!) and the miracle of using packing cubes. Do you have any idea how many things you can fit into a packing cube? It goes without saying that I ordered packing cubes- two sets, just in case!

Packing cubes led me to packing lists.  I clearly can't be left to my own devices when it comes to deciding what to pack! What do I really need to put in those cubes for a 10 day trip? It helped to see suggested packing lists from professional travelers.  They know how and where to cut corners, although I still can't see myself washing my socks and underwear in the hotel sink.  This led to my new favorite topic of travel capsule wardrobes.  This is the concept you can pack 10 carefully chosen items and turn them into 30 fashionable outfits.  Are you kidding me? I love the idea of packing a flexible travel wardrobe! Mix and match wardrobes are endlessly fascinating to me! I just need to buy all of the items on the list because apparently I don't own any versatile clothing.

After doing copious amounts of research on travel wardrobes (both warm and cold climate trips because you never know), this made me feel confident enough to think I could now pack in a smaller suitcase. I started doing research on under the seat carry on suitcases and packable/collapsible backpacks.  I have looked at the features and benefits of many varieties of each, can tell you the top rated ones, and have even watched multiple videos on the functionality of the under the seat bag. Both items are still in my cart waiting for my purchase. I'm not sure I'm ready to commit quite yet- do I need to do more research?!?

By the time I got to "how to pack for a 3 week trip in a handbag", I knew I had gone too far.  I'm not going on a three week trip anytime soon and I can guarantee you that I will never be packing in a large purse/backpack! Was it the fever leading me down such an unrealistic path? Is there part of me that wishes I could be the kind of low maintenance person who could go on an exotic 3 week trip and only carry a purse? Maybe. Or is this the dark side of Pinterest that makes us think we can do and be anything we want if only we follow the advice, instruction, and guidance offered on a never ending stream of pins??

Pinterest has been a wonderful, but dangerous addition to my online world.  I love the idea of saving tips and ideas in a digital format. Whoever thought of this idea is a genius! Pinning and creating boards is so much easier than clipping stories from magazines and keeping them in various paper folders. I have 61 boards, 2700 pins, and counting. There is a never ending supply of information on almost every topic you can think of-hair styles, gardening, clothing, recipes, exercising, quotes, home decor, advice, organization (to name a few)- that's the wonderful part.  The dangerous part is knowing what to do with all of that information, how to feel about it, and how to have the discipline to STOP searching! I hate to think of the collective time lost by people falling into the deep, dark hole of Pinterest!

I don't regret my sick time spent exploring the world of travel.  I really did learn a lot and am excited to try some of the tips I read.  It was an enjoyable and somewhat productive way to pass my non-sleeping hours.  However, I remain on alert for the amount of time it is possible for me to spend during normal "waking" hours.  My next obsession is right around the corner and I know Pinterest will be there happy to help me explore!

The Power of the Sweatshirt

I am the woman of many temperatures right now and I find myself reaching for and/or discarding a sweatshirt many times throughout the day.  Today during a cold moment, I grabbed my old standby sweatshirt and put it on.  To say that this sweatshirt has seen better days would be a gross understatement.This sweatshirt needs to be, in fact deserves to be, in the trash. This zip up Russell Athletic sweatshirt circa the mid 90's has literally been on fire (more on that later).

But yet, I continue to wear it around the house and occasionally

OUTSIDE...

IN PUBLIC...

WHERE PEOPLE CAN SEE ME!!

I have no explanation.  I certainly have other sweatshirts. I have purchased new zip up ones to take its place.  Other family members have purchased ones for me in the hopes that I would retire the out of fashion, stained, and burn marked one.  However, I still reach for that one.  I'm a practical girl and there are legitimate reasons I keep it around.  It is roomy and most current replacement sweatshirts go with a more fitted silhouette.  When I am relaxing around the house I am not look for a flattering fitted silhouette, I am looking for comfort! It is also made of good old fashioned sweatshirt fleece, not polar tech fleece or some other kind of static charged fleece that attracts dog hair as soon as I put it on. It is free from the annoying band on the bottom that makes every zip up sweatshirt seem too short. It is also the perfect weight- enough to keep me warm, but not enough to make me overheat.

As with any old piece of clothing that we hold onto, there are reasons beyond the practical.  I'm sure with effort I could find a suitable replacement that would check many of the boxes.  But, the new sweatshirt wouldn't come with the history.  This garment has been my friend.  Its loose, boxy shape had never judged me when my size or shape changed.  It has been with me through pregnancies, post pregnancies, and multiple body changes.  it is never too big or too small.  It has been the sweatshirt conveniently hung on the back of a door or a chair so it is easy for me to grab when I need to make a quick trip outside.  Its comforting weight has been with me through sickness and health, happiness and grief.  It has been the the one I wore when rocking babies to sleep, making Christmas cookies with my girls, basting the Thanksgiving turkeys, painting rooms, planting gardens, and moving to different homes.  It has brought comfort to new places in the way that only a constant friend can. I've done a lot of life with this non-descript article of clothing.  Even the embarrassment that comes with being caught outside wearing it hasn't been enough to make me give it up for good!

About 8 years ago, I was making dinner while wearing my sweatshirt- nothing out of the ordinary. Except at some point, I must have leaned too close to the flame and my sweatshirt caught on fire. As I tried to put the fire out, my family sat at the kitchen table and did NOTHING. Nothing to see here, just mom on fire in the kitchen!! In what has become a disputed piece of family history, I put the fire out myself and continued to put dinner on the table while my family laughed at me for catching myself on fire. My family remembers their reaction differently, but I know I put out the fire and I'm pretty sure I'm right about the rest :-).

So, I have literally walked through the fire with the comfiest of zip up sweatshirts.  How could I possibly walk away now? If you happen to see me outside wearing what only can be described as a hot mess of a sweatshirt, just smile and try not to judge. Maybe this little sweatshirt is my sign to the world that it's ok for everything not to be perfect, that despite appearances we all have a few holes in us, and that we all have moments where we have to walk through the fire and usually we live to tell about it.  I don't know if a humble little sweatshirt can send hope and comfort into the world, but I think it can- at least it has for me :-). 

Falling in Love

The cool, crisp, colorful days of fall always evoke so many memories.  None more vivid than the fall when I was falling in love.

I was a new college student in the fall of 85 and I was falling in love with:
independence,
the joy of learning,
a redefined sense of self,
deep conversations that lingered long into the night,
different experiences,
my beloved Purdue campus,
and mostly my friends who made all of those experiences more lively, fun, and meaningful!

Although this wasn't romantic love (that came later), it was every bit as heady and exhilarating.  Those first few months of college were magical! I was lucky to have had a smooth transition into college life.  I was ready for the new challenge, I was open to change, and I embraced the experience.

I fell in love with Purdue a little more each day as I explored new places. Although Purdue was a large campus, I was able to find little spots that made it seem like my own.  As I settled into the new rhythm of my days, I would find places where I could hang out and relax between classes.  There was the small fountain near John Purdue's grave where I would sit and watch all the people walk by but somehow still feel like I was alone.

 There was the pond behind Stanley Coulter Hall where I spent a lot of time eating granola bars and enjoying the sunshine.  There was the spacious bathroom/lounge on the first floor of the union where I could grab a couch and a little nap after my 7:30 am class. (I quickly became comfortable with the public nap!)  There was the table in the Union where my friends and I would often congregate throughout the day. We would look forward to grabbing some bread sticks (another Purdue love) and conversation between classes. The ever evolving mix of people became a highlight of my day. There was the excitement of  game day where I vividly remember walking across the co-rec fields and over Slayter Hill through the sea of tailgaters. You could always hear the sound of laughter, music, and the steady drum beat of the Purdue marching band.

I regret that we did not have phone cameras at the time because I am sure I would have taken pictures of the leaves changing as I walked to class and I know I would have had pictures of the water splashing out of my little fountain on the mall on a rainy day. I definitely would have taken a picture of the koi fish swimming in the pond and the squirrels crazily gathering acorns underneath the trees. 
I thought those areas would always be there and there would be time for pictures later, but time stops for no one. Campuses keep growing and changing, student needs and traditions evolve over time, and now many of my special places aren't there anymore.  I am forced to rely on my memory and although the experiences are seared in my mind, the details have grown a little fuzzy with time.

There are so many moments that I wish I could have saved just so I could remember the feeling associated with them. A picture probably wouldn't have captured the size of my brain growing as I learned subjects at a rate I never imagined.  I probably wouldn't have taken a selfie at the moment when I was most engaged in class and I could feel everything finally clicking into place.  I'm not sure a group photo could have captured the camaraderie that happened during those marathon late night conversations with friends.  How do you capture that time on a Saturday before we went out for the night when everyone was getting ready? Hairspray and perfume thick in the air, clothes and shoes swapped to find the perfect look, music playing in our rooms, moods happy and hopeful, all in preparation for the magical night that we were always sure was about to happen.  What would that picture look like?

Although I have some pictures of my college years, I don't have nearly enough to equate to all of the special times, places, and people.   I am envious that the students today have the ability to easily capture all of their experiences. Their lives are well documented and someday they will appreciate the gift of those detailed memories frozen in time.  I am also thankful that I didn't have the ability to easily capture all of my experiences! For every memory I want to see again, there is one (or two) that I would rather not...

When I think of my own college age children, I hope that they are falling in love too! I'm sure they are having plenty of their own memorable moments.  They won't look exactly like mine, but I hope they are finding their favorite places on campus and appreciating the quiet and exciting moments along the way.   I hope they are recognizing that college is a special time and place in their lives. I hope they are making friendships that will last a lifetime  I hope they are taking a lot of pictures.

My experience wasn't all perfect- there were struggles, classes I hated, professors who weren't fair, homework assignments that just about killed me, financial stresses that made life tough, times I disappointed myself and others- but the overall experience was such a gift.  If my girls are enjoying their college experience half as much as I did, then I know they will be truly blessed!

 Here's to fall, friends, love, and the glory days of college! 

You Are Not Alone

This has been a tough week or so for many women. Anyone who has been victimized by sexual harassment or assault has probably had a moment of sadness and/or anxiety while watching news coverage of the latest sex abuse scandal.  Reading the victims' stories may have caused you to relive an unpleasant experience of your own or remember a long forgotten one.  I'm sure many of you have seen the Twitter and Facebook posts marked with #MeToo.  Women who have experienced sexual harassment or assault have been given an opportunity to safely add their voices to the growing number of women who have come out and publicly declared that this has happened to them.  The numbers are heartbreaking! Women are coming out in droves to report that they too have been victimized.

I can almost guarantee you that at some point these women thought they were alone.

They have never been alone.

The statistics on abuse are staggering. One out of five women will experience childhood sexual abuse.  One in four women will experience date rape during their teens to early twenties. One in three women are likely to experience sexual harassment in their workplace.  I feel confident in saying that nearly 100% of women have experienced sexual harassment on the street through catcalls, whistles, comments yelled from construction sites or passing vehicles- comments designed not to compliment, but to diminish, to make us uncomfortable.  I don't even know how to categorize the sexual abuse coming from allegedly "safe" places- schools, churches, doctor's offices.  No place is off limits to a sexual predator. The scope of the problem is mind blowing.

These common but unpleasant experiences are usually kept in the dark and never brought into the light of day.  Why?

We learn early on that we need to be the keeper of the castle when it comes to our bodies and our dignity.  We must build tough walls that can deflect crude and demeaning comments.  We have to create a wide moat to protect ourselves against sexual aggressors who may come our way. We need to develop a set of strategic maneuvers to help us navigate around unwanted sexual advances. We are in a near constant state of battle and we don't always know or recognize the enemy. And while this philosophy is technically correct- we are ultimately the ones in charge of our bodies-there is not a castle strong enough to keep out men who decide to take what isn't theirs. When there are "infractions", it feels like it is our fault, our mistake, our castle didn't hold.  We build bigger walls and wider moats and still, we feel we have somehow failed when someone else succeeds at their unwanted and unwelcome advances.

So, we feel guilt, we feel shame, we keep quiet; we don't confront our abusers, because somewhere deep down we are sure it was at least partly our fault.

We should have known better...
We probably didn't read the signals correctly...
We must have led them on...
We should have known that's just how men are...
We thought we were in control...
Maybe we flirted a little...
Maybe we dressed too provocatively...
Maybe we had too much to drink...

Who would believe me anyway?

The part of the equation we never seem to give equal weight to is who and what was on the other side.  Were we outmatched in age, experience, power, position, size, status?  Was there force, intimidation, excessive persistence, or manipulation involved?  Were we threatened or bullied to stay quiet? Were we convinced that we brought it on ourselves? Many serial sexual abusers know exactly what they are doing.  They know who to target, how to groom you, how to manipulate your feelings, how to catch you off guard, and how to make you feel like it was your fault.  This is part of the sick game they play.

And yet often in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, we take the blame.  We tell ourselves we won't let it happen again, we keep rebuilding the castle, and we beat ourselves up for it. We take our bad experience and wrap it up in shame, and then tuck it away somewhere deep down where it's safe and we don't have to look at it or think about it.  But when we keep it a secret, it can become bigger and more powerful in ways that we don't even understand. And when we stay quiet, we let other women think that this is only happening to them.  And when we keep it to ourselves, we don't ever let light shine into that ugly  darkness. And when we don't tell anyone else, we continue to believe whatever "truth" we have told ourselves without ever considering what the actual "truth" might be. We feel alone, ashamed, and embarrassed by our perceived failings.

It's important that women come forward and talk about this so: 1) women and men will understand how widespread this problem is, 2) women will feel the power in numbers and know that they are not alone, 3) women can finally start to believe that maybe it wasn't their fault, and  4) women can let go of the shame and finally start to heal.

Christian author, speaker, and victim of sexual abuse  Beth Moore recently added her own voice to the list of #MeToo's and offered this series of tweets to the many women speaking out:

#WeToo have a voice. For all the times we were bullied into silence, we get to speak up & call wrong WRONG. #WeToo for fewer future #MeToos.

#WeToo get to stand on solid ground and be counted.  We too get to help other girls stand.  We too get to say, "I understand.  I believe you."

#WeToo have dignity. We too have courage.  We too can heal.  We too have community.  We too can be unashamed. We too can see to change. 

If you have your own story of sexual harassment, assault, or abuse; you don't have to go public with it if you aren't comfortable, but sharing it with a trusted friend or counselor can help.
Women standing together in the light are so much more powerful than women standing alone in the dark.  Have courage.  You are not alone!

#WeToo

For more information:

Date Rape- http://web2.fit.edu/caps/documents/daterape.pdf
Child Sexual Abuse- https://www.d2l.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/all_statistics_20150619.pdf
Sexual Harassment in the Workplace- https://nwlc.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/Sexual-Harassment-Fact-Sheet.pdf