What Matters

One of the nicer things about getting older is gaining perspective. If you haven't found that age has been helping you gain perspective, I highly recommend looking into it. What mattered on my 31st birthday was different than say, my 21st. No need to get a large group of friends together to celebrate- I love my friends and feel loved all the time. My husband does nice things for me and shows his love regardless of the day. Like when I've been cranky and sick for the past two weeks and he has taken care of me. Like the day he got home from work early and made a huge pot of chili. I'm just generally happy to be me, and though there will always be room for improvement and growth, I am aware of who I am, who I used to be, and it's all good.

Another happy symptom of age or growth is the ability to let things go. I'm certainly not perfect at this, but it's much easier now to understand that many people I've invested in during my lifetime are just going to be temporarily part of my life. They were there and I learned what lessons I could, and then it's time to move on. I used to agonize over this (and still do some), about what it all means, about what cutting of ties would mean about my investment, or about who I am- but, as my best friend and I discussed recently, it's not a statement of any of that. We learn from each other (hopefully), and then we continue on with those lessons to hopefully be better than we were before. I think for most people, the scope of your social world starts to narrow as you become an adult, and that's not always a bad thing. You just hang on to the friends that you can pick up with at any point in time and enjoy what time you have with each other.

I worry that social media unhealthily makes us linger rather than moving on. (Read a great piece from the Times on how social media diminishes the quality of our social connections). The temptation to know what happened to people after your intersection with their lives is huge. Connections that really have ended a long time ago are still holding on by fragments through Facebook and the like. Not that it's bad to "keep in touch" this way, but it can also become the breeding grounds for showing off, comparing, and passive cyber stalking. It makes it hard to say what needs to be said (implicitly) sometimes: "I care about you and wish you the best, but we don't need to keep tabs on each other anymore. I free you from this obligation so you can live your own life more fully. I've learned from you and I hope you have learned from me."

ING sent me this video for my birthday, which I know is an advertising gimmick, but all the same, I thought it was sweet. Plus the paper tears are cute. So I'll end  this random rambling on this note:

Play

By a fluke of scheduling that didn't work out, I had about a half hour to spare before volunteering today. I ended up at Washington Park, and it was just a perfect half hour. In the water fountains, little kids were running around with perfect glee and fearlessness. Parents basked in the sun or helped their younger children partake in the water play.  Sounds from the packed playground wafted over to my bench. A young dad and his little girl left their stroller and bag next to me, with weird implicit trust that I would watch it while they played. I don't play enough- not in a way that is as happy and uninhibited as these children, but I think I need to.

Rhythm, Rest, Movies

listening to: Teagan and Sara (coming to Cincy this July for Bunbury Music Festival!)

I've been totally out of the church loop the past few weeks, though I still manage to catch up on the service messages. The series has been focusing on life rhythms, which I think has a really nice applicability no matter what you believe in. It's too easy to fall out of rhythms, and so much harder to get into to them. The principle of building in rhythms in your life makes a lot of sense: you want to rest when it's time to rest so you can work when it's time to work. I'm terrible at resting/playing in a focused way. So I thought I'd spend a little time thinking of activities that feel restful to me:

1. Dancing
2. Reading
3. Writing
4. Hiking/Walking in the park
5. Walking around a city with no agenda
6. Findlay Market trips!
7. Savoring delicious food

Here's to hoping I will build this into my weekend rountine. I've been feeling pretty tired.

In other news, I went to see Girl Rising last night. This is probably best described by some reviewers as a "PSA" about the education of girls across the world. The concept of the film was great: each young girl from developing countries was paired with a woman writer from their country to write their stories about how they  fought to receive education. The stories are interspersed with sobering statistics of the inequity of education between girls and boys globally, as well as statistics making a case for the great return on investment from education girls. It isn't exactly a documentary, since the stories are reenacted/reimagined by the girls and their writers. The stories seemed to end abruptly with a call to action, which is to say, a screen with a number to text donations. Something in the end left me a little wanting, though in the end, this is a great way to raise awareness to an important issue. I think it would be a great film for young women to watch and discuss, and certainly is a great reminder to Americans of the privilege we have to be afforded the right to free and appropriate education in our country. Worth a watch- you can request a screening in your community through Gathr. 

Reasons

I'm starting to hate the phrase "Everything happens for a reason." I know I've been guilty of using it. It's not that I don't believe that many things happen for a reason, or that things often will work out in the end. It's just that people seem to employ it as some sort of comfort when terrible things happen. I've been hearing it a bit, recently, in response to my miscarriage. It's really not that comforting. At all. In the context of my recent struggle, these are my thoughts: I understand there is a scientific reason for my miscarriage. But there's no other great "reason" for why it happened, or why it happens to anyone. I think that most crappy things happen because of the human condition- our frailties, our mistakes, our choices- not on an individual level, necessarily, but on a macro scale. Everything we do affects everyone else around us. The things others do affects us. And I'm going to take a few seconds to talk about my beliefs, with the disclaimer that this is just what I think, and you can think whatever it is you think!

I don't personally believe that God puts misery in your life for some divine reason that you will figure out later. I do believe that my faith helps me get through those difficult times and helps me put a context to my life. But the proposition that, for instance, I had a miscarriage, and some day all this sadness will "make sense" seems silly to me. Has it helped me be more empathetic to women trying to conceive? Sure. Will I be able to talk to others about it who go through it in the future? Sure. But how does that make me feel any better about having the loss? It's no less sucky. And please, tell me some more compelling possible reasons as to why it happened (other than the science). I'm dying to know what is in store for me.

Is it horribly cynical to believe that sometimes bad things just happen and we learn to survive them? That not all terrible things have some big picture meaning? I'm not saying there's no hope of healing and feeling better, because we will heal and feel better in time. Just don't tell me that one day I will have an ah-ha moment that will help me somehow be glad it happened, or some nonsense. Seriously.

Stars

While looking for some inspiring videos to Tweet for work, I came across this dance performance on Dancing with the Stars. I don't watch this show much, but am happy to be inspired by this 17 year old girl who is legally blind but can dance so beautifully. It reminds me to be in awe of the human ability to overcome.

And incidentally, seeing the video reminded me of my recent discovery of this Grace Potter song.

I lit a fire with the love you left behind, 
And it burned wild and crept up the mountainside.
I followed your ashes into outer space
I can't look out the window, 
I can't look at this place, 

I can't look at the stars, 
They make me wonder where you are
Stars, 
Up on heaven's boulevard
And if I know you at all, 
I know you've gone too far
So I, I can't look at the stars

All those times we looked up at the sky, 
Looking out so far, 
We felt like we could fly.
And now I'm all alone in the dark of night, 
The moon is shining, 
But I can't see the light, 
And I can't look at the 

Stars, 
They make me wonder where you are
Stars, 
Up on heaven's boulevard
And if I know you at all, 
I know you've gone too far
So I, I can't look at the stars

Stars, 
Stars, 
They make me wonder where you are
Stars, 
Up on heaven's boulevard
And if I know you at all, 
I know you've gone too far
So I can't look at the stars.