Letting Go of Good Things

Here's a rambling of my ideas, as of late.

It's been hard for me to write this fall, since starting at Timothy. You may notice that, over the past two years, it's been harder for me to write consistently. I think it has *something* to do with the juggling act of adulthood that hit me all at once when I got married, moved to the suburbs, and switched jobs to have my own classroom. All at once. 

I got bogged down with things like laundry and grocery shopping and cleaning and lesson planning and summer jobbing and it all just took over my day-to-day. 

Teddy and me. 

I have this habit in the morning that I've fallen into over the past few years. While I'm blow-drying my hair, instead of focusing on the styling thereof, I sit and scroll through interesting articles on social media and various news outlets. I get updated on the world and the world of my friends, both of the real and Facebook varieties. 

Well, this morning on my daily catch-up, I came across a post from Elizabeth Gilbert that was really great. Here's part of it: 

"Long ago, when I was struggling to become a writer, a wise older woman once said to me, "What are you willing to give up, in order to have the life you keep saying you want?"

I said, "You're right — I really need to start learning how to say no to things I don't want to do."

She corrected me: "No, it's much harder than that. You need to learn how start saying no to things you DO want to do, with the recognition that you have only one life, and you don't have time and energy for everything."

So she continued on with a statement she posed to many good, but needing-to-be-cut things in her life. This is what she said to them: I love you, but I'm letting you go. 

This just resonated with me so much. This fall has been one big blur without the catharsis of writing in my life. It was the beginning of the year rush and then the October slump and now we're entering the holiday hustle and oh my goodness I have hardly processed what's been going on. My life has been ruled a little too strongly by media of all kinds. From news to Facebook to Instagram to Netflix to Hulu to Huffington to blogs to Vine when I'm feeling ridiculous and everything in between. If I look back, this media monster has probably eaten hours and hours of my life this fall. In some ways, media is great. It connects me to the world and all that nonsense, but it really kind of disconnects me in the end. I've been consuming so much that I've been losing my ability to create. The only thing I've written in the last little while that I've been any ounce of proud about was my little tribute to my Grandpa Gesch. My uncle Curt dubbed it to be "perfect," and that is just about the best validation I could've asked for, coming from such a fantastic writer. 

So I've decided to take a note from Liz Gilbert, such an incredible writer herself, and say to my overkill on media: I love you, but I'm letting you go. I thought about it long and hard, and I figured out that the things that make me feel creative and alive and myself are the two simplest: reading and writing. And I'm not going to confuse reading with scrolling. I just started the book we'll be reading for book club when we meet over Thanksgiving weekend. And so as a part of all of this I'm back here, feeling good about writing, checking in on my life, and archiving where I'm at right now. 

So what have I been up to? 

One small struggle is that I am missing a lot from year to year. I miss last year. I really, really miss Calvin Christian School. I miss the city life. I miss living with roommates with whom I could share clothes. I miss my Teach For America hustle and realness and colleagues. I miss attending grad school (I know, nerd alert.) I miss living with my best college friends. I miss a lot. And I've only been at this adulating thing for three and a half years. 

Brian has been a huge catalyst for me becoming who I am going to be this year. He is here, he is supportive, and he is so, so dependable. I'm not even here, supportive, or dependable for myself! He gets the teacher thing, and I love building our friendship right along with our marriage. Sometimes I roll my eyes in annoyance at his quirks, and then sometimes I sigh with relief as he endures all of mine. Sometimes we watch dumb TV shows together (Hello, Bob's Burgers) and completely get each other. Sometimes we are in the day to day and that's all it feels like: a regular old routine day where our paths don't do too much crossing. Sometimes I can't even believe how much I love him. It's all of the above. 

One huge effort in my life is that I've been looking for and grasping at community out here in the Western suburbs. We've joined a small group in Oak Park, I've been attending a Writer's Group with my mother-in-law (actually super cool), joined a Thursday night volleyball league, I'm joining/starting a book club with my friend Reese, and I started a more intense Bible study with my mentor and another girl from church. When I see all of that in one list, I feel pretty proud. I'm starting to feel a little more grounded in all of life. I know and can surely feel that the grind of the fourth year of teaching in the third consecutive school is getting to me too, with all the upheaval that goes along with that. But these little groups, little connections that God has allowed me to receive, have made me feel oh so much more connected. To other people, to myself, to Him.

So thanks, Liz Gilbert, for the advice. I miss a lot of things. I'm learning to let some of those go to make way for the new. 

Writing and God and Peanut Butter Sandwiches

Summer has been full of trips and family for the first part of June, and then it went full swing into summer-job-mode. I'm nannying this summer, which means my days are full of pool time, tennis lessons, and summer tutoring. Not to mention all of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich making, sock matching, and fort building.

It's sort of funny to me that most all of my life's earnings have centered around helping parents raise their children. From nannying through the summers, to babysitting in college, to teaching primary-aged kids for the past three years, I spend most of my time with little people. I wouldn't have predicted this for myself, though. I have friends for whom this kind of path would make sense. You know those girls? The ones that swoon and put out their hands the second a baby enters the room? Yeah, not me. Or at least it used to not be me. I still have anxiety about holding teeny tiny babies and am convinced they're allergic to me, but I am so fascinated with the people God made around me. When you love people, you can't help but absolutely love kids. I love that kids can handle so much responsibility, are so capable of deep thoughts and understandings, and that kids remind me to put my whole heart into everything I do. They are such whole-hearted people (thanks, Brene Brown, for your phrase!) and I learn so much from that mindset of living every day. Teaching has given me such a respect for the field of education, and nannying has given me such a respect for stay-at-home-moms. Heck, for moms of any variety. You people are amazing!

Even with all of the learning experiences and work opportunities, I'm finding that this summer has been a little bit more hectic than I thought it would be. My head starts to absolutely spin when I think of the prospect of teaching next year: it will be my fourth classroom in four years, and my third school in four years. I'm really thankful for the open doors, but also exhausted with the changes. I know it takes over 40 hours of logged time in my classroom for me to set it up, and I'm looking ahead on the calendar with disbelief at when that is going to happen.


Yesterday I had about seventeen different tabs open, all looking at possible classroom layouts, unit plans, teaching blogs, Teachers Pay Teachers (bless it!), and Pinterest. It got to the point where I started to whimper out loud in an actual panicked whine. I had to stop. So I shut my computer and walked away for 24 hours. And here I am again. A little less scatter brained. As I type Brian is YouTubing funny Domingo Ayala baseball videos, so I suppose that's a little distracting, but that's nothing compared to the beginning-of-school-year-anxiety that was hitting me last night. But that's cleared now, and here I am. At this page.

I love this blog, simply because it's mine. I'm pretty sure my mom is its most faithful follower (hey Mom!) followed with my Auntie Lee as a close second (hey there!), but it's not making me any money, sponsorship deals, or popularity in any way. I love it because it's a space for me to speak, to practice this thing I love so much called writing, and it just never goes away. I love that this blog is here whether I update it once a week, once a month, or once a day. Sometimes, though, when I let it go for a few days or weeks without coming here, I get itchy. Do you have that too? Do you have that thing that you know takes effort but is really good for you? Something that, neglected for a few days, starts to make you itch? Writing is that for me. Running, to a lesser extent, is that for me too, but writing is my thing.

Ever since I was a Christian (we're talking from about age 10 or so) I would journal down my thoughts about God every few days. As I grew up, and wanted to appear to be a stronger Christian to myself (ha!), I would set these rules for myself to write in my journal daily. Every day.  It began really well, and then it turned into a weird self-imposed legalism where I would lose every time. I would put the date at the top of each entry, which only compounded my guilt, since each time I opened up the journal I would face the affront of the previous entry's date. Each new entry's writing started something like this: "Oh my goodness. It's been 3 whole days since I've written or thought about you, God. I'm so ashamed." Shame and guilt as you begin your talk with Jesus? Hmmm. Not the best.

Then, my mentor at church told me to stop writing the date at the top. She said that God was less concerned with the regularity of entries and more concerned with my heart. Was I involving Him in my daily life? God just wants to be made known to me, that's all, and so you know what? I took a break from journaling altogether. It's been about 5 months and I think it's been really good for me. No more fake laws to break, and no more fake laws to grit my teeth trying to uphold so that I could feel good about myself. Just one more way that I try to earn my own ticket, to believe the lie that I'm pulling my own weight on this ride. Silly me :)

After these past months, I think I'm ready to start writing about God again. I think I'll mostly do so in my journal as usual, and maybe sometimes I'll transfer those thoughts to this space here so my mom and great aunt can read them (or maybe a few other people too!). I process best through writing things down; words are the way I forage through this world. Words are why I'm an immediate over-sharer, why I have a steady book addiction growing on my nightstand this summer, and why the best thing Brian has ever given me was a handwritten note on yellow legal paper on the morning of our wedding day. I think words are how God relates to the world (Jesus is, in fact, The Word incarnate), how he created the world, and how He speaks to me. I've heard His words lately, in the middle of my spinning brain about things going on, things to come, and the anticipation (always) of what's next.

In the middle of this hectic summer, I really have felt that pull to get back to my words and my God. I've been reading a lot about the other ways people connect, guilt-free (that's key), to their faith lately and it makes me stand in awe at all the ways we grow and learn with this sovereign, compassionate God. Nannying this summer has allowed my brain a change of pace, so that in between the pool and the peanut butter sandwiches I've started to feel that itch again, so I'm back here again at this place. The more I write, the more I want to write. It feels good. I hope you find your place this summer too.