To Sleep, Perchance to Dream.

"To sleep, perchance to dream-
ay, there's the rub."~Hamlet

I once was a deep sleeper and a napper for most of my adult life. Oh the days when I used to wake up ‘naturally’ without the alarm. I miss those days. Sleep became erratic a few years ago. It was the perfect storm: perimenopause started, change of job, change of relationships, change of identity. I started waking up in the middle of the night. Then it turned to waking up long before dawn in a cold sweat with chest pains. Suddenly I realized I was now a light sleeper: The dog would move and I’d feel him. Rich would snore and I’d hear him. I’ve actually kicked both (lightly). Don’t they know I NEED to sleep? I resented them both for being able to be able to fall asleep in 30 seconds.

Sleep is a commodity that I don’t take for granted now. It is both healing and essential. Without it, over time, your body may start to talk back to you with unexplained symptoms. Your body does speak your mind. For me, I didn’t recognize that a seismic shift (spiritual, emotional, hormonal) was taking place that would alter my life forever. My body and spirit wanted my attention and she was going to get it. 

In 2008, I started taking Ambien (after a few months of having murderous thoughts towards my dog and husband for waking me up night after night). I figured it was the lesser of two evils. Have you ever taken Ambien? That stuff is like crack. When you’re desperate, you’ll do anything to sleep. A few of my friends received my ‘Ambien drunk’ emails. Just before I’d fade off to sleep, I’d write senseless random thoughts to friends. I’d wake up in the morning to emails saying, “What the heck is up with you?” Rich would tell me that I was hilarious about 15 minutes before falling asleep. Ambien was like truth serum for me. I’d babble on and on about whatever was on my mind. I had no recollection of what I said or did—complete amnesia. Taking Ambien may seem harmless at first. I’d take one pill before bedtime and would be out like a light 20 minutes later. Soon that didn’t work. So I’d take two Ambien pills and be out like a light in 1 hour. Eventually, going to sleep was taking longer and longer. (I’ve always needed more drugs then a normal person. If Rich licks an Ambien, he goes into a coma.) Soon I was taking 2 ½-3 Ambien but was not falling asleep for 2 hours. You know where this is going, right? Yep, addiction to prescription drugs and self medicating with other drugs. Nobody knew. I JUST WANTED TO SLEEP!

There were other factors that year too (that I’m not ready to write about yet, maybe some other time in the future). Let’s just say that I was under A LOT of stress. What does your body produce when you’re under stress? Cortisol. We all know that Melatonin is the cozy hormone that helps you go to sleep. Cortisol is the fight, flight hormone, but it’s also the hormone that helps you wake up each morning. Who knew? So when your body is flooded with Cortisol, your sleep cycle is going to be affected—big time! Cortisol is a functioning hormone secreted by the Adrenal Cortex (that sits on top of the Kidneys). It is used for ‘in the moment’ times of survival or stress to prepare you for alertness such as: a lion is chasing you, a confrontation with someone or if you need to take a school exam, etc. The upside of Cortisol is it’s a powerful anti-inflammatory; many of us have used a form of it topically for the skin or needed a shot for pain. But the downside is, if our body produces too much Cortisol (due to stress) for too long because we can’t shut off the flight or flight switch there are risks: weight gain, connective tissue breakdown. We’re even put at risk for musculoskeletal injury, osteoporosis, and it suppresses the immune system’s response to disease and infection. And (in my case) it also messes with your sleep/wake cycle. Long term stress = pain in some form or another. 

So I had to get the stress levels down immediately. That took an epic restructuring of my life. Many things were altered permanently. Including, letting go of some toxic relationships and codependency. I needed to learn how to nurture myself, hold strong boundaries, and factor in down time, and rest when I could not sleep. I had to make sure that every day I did ‘nothing’ for 20 minutes: to just BE. Try it; it’s not that easy. I also had to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up because the ‘mom position’ that I had held for decades had recently been downsized.

As God would have it, He brought a few new tools into my life that were incredibly healing and ‘out of the box’ for me. I started doing yoga and meditation. I learned how to breathe properly. And I took a doctor recommended two-week cross-country trip by myself for to learn how to just ‘BE’. I highly recommend all of those tools.

When life gets too full for me, I stop sleeping. I only get about 4-5 hours of sleep a night. That is not good. Nobody looks good on 4-5 hours of sleep night after night. I don’t even need to be stressed out; just good ole busyness will cause me to wake up with Jesus and the birds. I’m in that busy season of life again. It’s difficult because I went two years of recovering normal circadian rhythm night after night. It’s a bummer when I ‘can’t’ sleep-in on my days off. For me, I have to be intentional about making sure I exercise, and stay off the ‘other’ crack (sugar). But the most important thing: make sure to BREATHE before I go to sleep. Deep breathing like the ocean. (Inhale……breath comes in…..like the water to the shore. Exhale…..breath goes out…..like water going back out to sea.) And I listen to the sound of the breath as it rises and falls. Our breath kinda sounds like the ocean we used to hear while holding up a seashell as kids.

Some days, when I don’t get enough sleep (which happens more then I like), I’ll make sure to do Yoga Nidra. Yoga Nidra is similar to that wonderful time at the end of yoga class when you’re in Final Relaxation—but much longer. It’s that hammock floaty time. I will do 10 to 40 minutes depending on the need. Yoga Nidra simply put is conscious deep RELAXING sleep: Actually, it is a meditative state where you remain in the Wake State, go past the Dreaming State, and go to Deep Sleep, yet remain awake. I don’t know why they don’t call it Yoga Wake instead of Yoga Sleep? The intention isn’t to go to sleep. However, it can help you prepare for sleep or alertness. I know, it sounds far out.  Rich tried it a couple of times and feel asleep in 30 seconds (I guess his body needed it). I usually drift in an out of a semi conscious state but am able to be intentional about staying awake.  The Yoga Nidra I’ve done is usually [involves listening to] a CD of a woman talking through a body scan—very calming.  You gently focus the mind while allowing thought patterns, emotions, sensations, and images to come and go without attachment or judgment. It’s easy to do and very safe and relaxing. Some people have ‘aha’ moments or feel spiritually more connected to God because they’ve finally turned off the noise in their head. I haven’t had any real ‘aha’ moments yet. But I am thankful to God that Yoga Nidra is a relaxing option that’s so beneficial for my body/mind. Some people catch up on their sleep over the weekend. I don't. So I do Yoga Nidra when I don’t get the normal 8 hours of sleep a night I need.

The good news is for three years I’ve been off all drugs. It took 6 days to detox from Ambien (and other drugs). Rich has great stories of me acting like I was on an acid trip while trying to get off the stuff. Three days of no sleep will do that; followed by three more days of only 2-3 hours of sleep per day. Note to Self: NEVER try to go cold-turkey when getting off of any kind of drugs. I was told I was lucky I didn’t go into shock. Finally one morning I woke up naturally again 8 hours later.

Nowadays, I fall asleep in 2 minutes. Did you get that insomniacs? I’ll say that again. I fall asleep in 2 minutes. All because of knowing now how to properly breathe. If you don’t know how to breathe correctly, check out a little sleeping baby. Their belly rises when they inhale, and the belly falls when they exhale. Most of us are shallow chest breathers. One of the greatest benefits to deep belly breathing (besides all the extra oxygen your brain gets), belly breathing helps you stop obsessive thinking if you follow your breath.

A girl needs her beauty sleep! Not to mention that a full sleep cycle will burn more calories when we experience REM sleep. I’m all about loosing calories without having to do sit-ups. :-D

As for the dog and the husband still keeping me awake with snoring? They go in the other room three nights a week when I have school the next day. Nobody gets hurts and everyone sleeps like a baby. Oh and earplugs and sound machines help too.

Age: A High Price To Pay For Maturity

Some days I just feel like I’m going to hell. Not because of what I did in the 80’s, but because I’m wrapping my mind around something that everyone faces sooner or later: aging. My body feels like it’s mad at me most of the time. I always have to bend over backwards to get it to like me again. I get up twice as early so I can do some yoga before starting my day. If I don’t, I feel like the lumbar discs of my spine are collapsing. Yoga has helped. I know I’ll never do a backbend again in my life. I’m okay with that. And jumping jacks are out of the question or I will pee in my pants. However, there are a few things that I’m not okay with. I’m not okay with not being cool anymore. In my head I still think I’m 25. And I’m not okay that the wear-and-tear on this banged up model doesn’t have a warrantee. In a couple of years here, I’m going to need my 50,000-mile tune up.

I got a new iPhone recently. I have no idea how to use it. I’ve had the same little Samsung phone for four years. It served me well and I hated to see it go. This iPhone has lots of bells and whistles. But when “I” use it, I don’t look hip. I look like I’m lost in a labyrinth of technology. One of the cute youngin’ from school (as I affectionately call them), busted out laughing at me while I was pecking cautiously the smooth surface pad of the iPhone. She said, “I love it when ‘old’ people text. It's so hilarious!” Old people? Really? Am I now in the Old People category? I must look like my grandmother who could never use a VCR. Smart-ass kids! One day they will be trying to figure out how to use the chip in their head to turn on the coffee maker. I smile and laugh along with them. But if you really knew me, I’m thinking, “Oh my god, this is happening. I’ve gotten labeled old.”

Last week I was caught. For the first time in 23 years, Rich walked in on me with a facial mask on. I thought he was downstairs absorbed in some hockey game. He called up to me and I answered him, thinking that would keep him downstairs. Then he came up to tell me how excited he was that the Hawks were in the playoffs. There was no time to run into the bathroom. And I didn’t want to throw the covers over my drying, caking face. So I just sat on the bed like it was no big deal. It WAS a big deal. I wasn’t just exfoliating my skin; I was dealing with the ever-present reality that things are sagging all over my body without my permission. I’m just holding back the decline. My face was red underneath the green clay. He laughed like he just saw a clown in the circus. “I’ve never seen you like that before!” he exclaimed. Does a man really want to see his wife in a clay mask? No! That is why I’ve always slapped on my wrinkle-be-gone creams and clays when he’s out of town. Nora Ephron in 'I Feel Bad About My Neck' wasn’t kidding when she wrote, “Our faces are lies, and our necks are the truth.” Don’t get me started on my neck. 

My feet are in on the rebellion. I got Plantar Fascitiis a couple of years ago. It is so painful and inconvenient. I now have a permenate water bottle that is in the freezer at all times. If I feel the slightest twinge of ache or discomfort in my feet when I wake up, I’m rolling the frozen water bottle under my foot until it’s numb, and stretching the arches (another reason I do yoga). But here’s the kicker, I can’t buy those sexy 4-inch heels anymore. I’m pushing it if I wear 3-inch heels. I put them on and my feet look up at me and say, “Seriously, you think I’m going to let you cram those size 8s in those bad-girl-heels just so your calf’s can look sculpted?” So what do I do to appease my ‘snarky’ feet? I caved in and did the unthinkable. I bought a pair of Birkenstocks. I don’t care how comfortable they are! Let me say it again, I don’t care how comfortable they are or how much support they have for your feet. They’re the ugliest shoes on the planet. There I said it! I don’t even feel like a cool hippy in them. I feel old. Soon I’m going to be one of those people wearing tan New Balance shoes. When I used to go to the health club I’d work out and watch all the walkers go round and round the track. All the old people wore New Balance shoes. I don’t want to wear polyester or New Balance shoes. But I do want to be comfortable and THAT is where the body eventually gets 'its' way every time!

And then there is the reading glasses issue. Like I didn’t have enough to deal with already. I’ve got the super highway wrinkles going horizontal along my forehead, the creases around my eyes, and the thinning gray (colored over) hair. Because of my reading glasses, I have a permanent line across my nose. My grandmother had one too. It became a divot. I have glasses all over the house. And yet, I often don’t have them nearby. I try to fake it and hold the menu out a little further while out to lunch. I’m visually confronted with the fact that I am getting old. Most days I don’t even see that I spilled yogurt on my shirt again. Yep, just like my grandmother. If I don’t use the glasses, I’ll cut off my finger while cutting up an apple. I'm now up to 250+ readers. What's next? I can’t put my make up on without a magnifying mirror x10. I don't know if magnifying mirrors are a mercy or and insult to the vain modern woman?

Mark Twain says, “Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” Shut up Mark!! It does matter! I went to the Body World Exhibit down at the Chicago Science museum. When you first walk in there is this huge screen progression of aging through the year’s in pictures. It spans time from 7 months to 70. I stood in mild shock as this lovely woman aged right before my eyes. I kept thinking, “Holy Oil of Olay, that is gonna me!!” Someone said that old age comes at a bad time. I couldn’t agree more! I try to spiritualize this aging process and work on my attitude. I've been internally challenged lately by the proverb, “Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain. But a woman who fears the LORD shall be praised!” I agree with that too, but I don’t think I’m pulling that off convincingly enough. Maybe aging will get easier over time as I let go of my attachment to all things tight and perky and trade if for contentment and gratitude? 

Me-Day

~Tension is who you think you should be. Relaxation is who you are.~ Chinese Proverb.

Most people don’t like Monday. I get it. The last six months have been hard for me to embrace Monday too.  I usually have one or two tests on Monday. Which brings a mild undercurrent of anxiety that arises within me on Sunday night. I spend a ridiculous amount of hours studying every weekend. Mostly because I have this deep fear that I’m going to forget everything once those written tests are placed in front of me. I’m not like the youngin’s in my classes who stroll in Monday morning and say, “Oh we have a test today?” then proceed to ace it. Apparently I’ve used up a lot more brain cells at my age. Spring break has given me permission to unplug my brain and recharge my spirit. Since I’ve gotten into the “I hate Monday’s rut, I decided it was time to go off and just be by myself. I declared it officially Me-Day. What’s not to love about that?

At first I was tempted to fill in my day with time with others. I thought about taking my grandson to see a movie or call a girlfriend I haven’t seen in a while, start and orphanage. J/k. I held back and tried not to feel guilty. It seems selfish to grant myself time alone after having my head in books for the last three months. Don’t I already spend a lot of time alone studying? I remind myself that Jesus set a great example for us to go off by ourselves. We always assume that He was talking to God. But maybe in addition to talking to God, he was walking through the olive grove looking for the perfect logs to carve out a table he wanted to make? The Son of God who served others non-stop for three years needed a break too. Although, unlike me, it is said that Jesus got up while it was dark to go off and pray and be alone. I didn’t get up while it was dark. I slept in then woke up naturally at 8:30a.m, but I did pray.

This morning a treasured girlfriend sent me a text: ‘Happy YOU Day. Hope u r having a great day.”  My husband (whose out of town) sent me a text message too, ‘Have a great 'Kim' day’. That was such a blessing to be reminded that those who love me understand my need to go off by myself occasionally. They know what burdens weigh heavy on my heart, they know I’m ‘all in’ when needed, they know I try to spread myself around and connect when I can. So I told myself, "Okay, Kim, go relish YOUR day!!"

Since it was too cold outside to sit under a tree and read a book, I decided to head to the mall to spoil myself a little. I turned my naked winter toes into colorful spring toes. A while back I was given a cool tan hat that says ‘BREATHE’ on it. I love this hat but I don’t wear a lot of tan. I plan on making this hat one of my everyday hats so I set out to buy some tan t-shirts. I found two that I liked on sale. I also just ‘happen’ to stroll by the jewelry accessories and got two pairs of silver hoop earrings on sale too. Score! I hung out at the perfume counter and picked out a few nice scents (but didn’t buy them. I’ve gotta give Rich some ideas for gifts, right?) It was nice to just meander—nothing to do, no place to be. I could just BE in the present and enjoy Me-Day. However the sushi at the food court I didn’t enjoy. I should have known better. Then I decided that I needed a new pair of pajamas (my favorite thing in the world to wear). I found something amazingly soft and comfy but when I went to pay for it she said, “That will be $68.00 dollars please.” I wish I could afford not to blink but I did as I pulled out my reading glasses. I told the lady that I didn’t read the tag correctly without my readers on so I wouldn’t be buying it today—or ever. Then it was off to Barnes & Noble. Some ladies buy shoes or purses, I buy books. Although in this season of my life I have less time to indulge in reading for pleasure. I grabbed two yoga magazines, one book on Myofascial Trigger Points, and two inspirational books. Then I parked myself down on one of those comfy chairs. When the kid behind me started playing with the obnoxious toy that made a clicking noise I was tempted to let him know it was ME-Day and that I was in the middle of reading thank you very much. I decided to focus on his laughter while he played with his toy instead. Folksy music overhead, the lady at the resource desk multitasking with phones and customers, people talking on their cell phones while scanning the shelves, all didn’t matter. I was doing nothing very important and that is what I really needed. Later on I took Fred for a long walk. The shadows on trees told the time. My nose and ears were going to need to thaw when I got home. It’s funny how 35 degrees in March feels different than 35 degrees in December. Sunny and cold was fine with me. I was digging just walking along in the ‘now’ with no expectation placed on Me-Day!!! 

Gone In 90 Seconds

SON OF A…B*tch!! That reaction came out of me while trying to pry open a lid on a can that caused me to chip a nail. I have this rule, no matter how long my nails are, if I break one, they all get clipped. My husband Rich was standing there when I slammed the can on the counter and stormed off to get the nail clippers. If I was by myself I may have not recognized how ridiculous I sounded. While clipping the remaining nine nails, I laughed to myself at my reaction to such a small thing in life. I'm sure God even looked down and thought, "Really Kim?" It's not the swearing so much as the reaction. What is it that causes us to react to such things? There are small reactions and big reactions. However, I’ve been known to occasionally have nuclear reactions. There are positive reactions too, but I’ll speak into the ones that create unnecessary stress to my self and even those around me. Rich has been reading a book by Robert Sutton, a Stanford professor called the 'No Asshole Rule'. The book is about not hiring jerks in your organization. Simply put, the rule is 'you can have an asshole but don't be one'. Lately, I’ve been more aware of how much I react over things.

Rich’s mom, my mother-in-law, Evelyn, never had a ticket and always went the speed limit, and stayed in the right lane. It’s safe to say that she probably never flipped anyone off either. She was a safe driver. She was also a little scared and didn’t like to drive on the toll-ways. I don’t blame her, I don’t like to either. Some of those people are crazy (you know who you are!). She was a good driving role model for me—for all of us in the family. I used to be one of those crazy drivers before I realized that it only increases my car insurance when I got a ticket. And at my age, smiling doesn’t get me out of tickets anymore.

Nowadays, I’m pretty mellow in traffic. I can’t remember when the last time I reacted and flipped anyone off. I drive no more than 9 miles over the speed limit on the highway, 5 miles around town. I’ve only had 1 ticket in the last 20 years, and that was for rolling through a stop sign because of being distracted on the phone. I’m typically always in the right hand lane (less people flipping me off). I’m just not in a hurry. I leave early and give myself plenty of space and time. I’ll get to wherever I’m going when I get there. The reason being, the older I get, the more people I know who have gotten hurt or died. Car accident statistics scared the Mario Andretti out of me. In a study by Froedtert & Medical College of Wisconsin, 90% of respondents say either they themselves or someone they know, family or friend, have experienced the effects of a car crash. However, 56% didn’t change their driving habits because of the crash. Now, I take my time in traffic. Look around for yourself, people are talking on the phone, texting, or off in their head not paying full attention. We all know what that’s like—going from point A to point B and wondering how we got there: The automatic pilot in our brains.

I was in local traffic behind a gray Jeep. The light turned green and we all started to move through the intersection. A sporty red car made a quick right turn into our lane and cut in front of the guy in the Jeep. It was a close one. Mr. Jeep was waving his arms and shouting. Fingers were flying everywhere. For the next half a mile Mr. Jeep was hammering on his horn and just about slammed into Mr. Sporty Red Car’s bumper. Just like in Kindergarten, Mr. Jeep did not think it was fair that Mr. Sporty Red Car cut in front of the traffic line. I sensed that this could get ugly and gave myself some distance behind Mr. Jeep. I’m glad I did because Mr. Jeep wasn’t going to let this go. He swerved into the left lane (still yelling) and then sped up to swerve back into the right lane now in front of Mr. Sporty Red Car.  I could have predicted this was coming, Mr. Jeep slammed on the breaks in front of Mr. Sporty Red Car and came to a complete stop. He opened the door and abandoned his car in the middle of traffic. My pulse was racing. Mr. Jeep was about 30-ish and rushed out ready for a fight. His arms were flailing and all the other cars around stopped. This is the part where things go in slow motion and I wait for him to brandish a gun.  No gun. Thank God! His rage was verbal. It appeared that Mr. Red Car would be trapped with cars on all sides, but as luck would have it, there was a lane to his right so he turned into a shopping mall. He veered into the open shopping exit lane then around Mr. Jeep’s parked car, and then sped off. It was an impressive move.  Mr. Jeep was not happy and took off after Mr. Sporty Red Car again. Even though Mr. Sporty Red Car started this, we all learned as kids the saying: Two wrongs don’t make a right.

 At this point I decided I was done with this drama since it was now 100 yards ahead of me. Even if I wanted to keep up, I’d have to speed up. And that’s not going to happen unless someone is in my backseat bleeding.  I wasn’t to get a ticket over these two maniacs. Besides, Mr. Sporty Red Car had some decent driving skills to escape if necessary. As I turned off onto another street I thought, I wonder if Mr. Jeep knew what a complete ass he made of himself? I’m sure boiling adrenalin was coursing through him creating this chemical response to rage. The funny thing is I’m sure if his grandma was in the car, he could have controlled that nuclear reaction.  Sometimes we have a moral compass as to how we’re going to react with some choices. 

We’ve all done it at some point-reacted acted like a complete fool. Anger changes your brain chemistry. The one thing Mr. Jeep wasn’t able to do in that moment was inquire or recognize his own hypocrisy. His reptilian brain had kicked into fight mode. I’d bet my life Mr. Jeep has at some time in the last 10 or 15 years since he’s been driving, cut someone off accidently or on purpose. Yet he acted like Mr. Sporty Red Car just committed the unpardonable driving sin. True, it was a bad choice on Red’s part. But I wanted to say, “Come on buddy, dial it down, think about it. Haven’t you made a quick turn into a lane in front of someone almost creating an accident too?  My guess is his reactions are a pattern in his life. He probably thinks he’s entitled to rage when someone else moves into his lane(s) of life.

 Recently I learned something that’s literally mind-boggling from Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor, a neuroanatomist, who studies the brain. In her book, My Stroke of Insight, she says there is scientific evidence showing that the life span of any particular emotion is only one and a half minutes. After that, we keep the emotion going by reviving the emotion with our thoughts. Ponder that thought for a while! How much precious energy and time have you wasted keeping those feelings going by thinking about it over and over and over?

I know Mr. Jeep well because I’ve acted like him in my own way(s) over the years. Sometimes they are big reactions, like yelling at someone because they almost caused me harm; sometimes they are small ones like when I chip a nail and swear like it's the worst thing in the world that is happening in that moment.  Both are kind of embarrassing when I finally realize I too need to dial it down sometimes. But the only way to do this (I’m learning) is practice mindfulness. Staying in the present moment (instead of in my head) has helped me become more aware of coming to my senses sooner than later. If I take 90 seconds (or more) to sit with the emotion--without reacting--its hurricane force will subside and I can respond like a human rather than, um, an A**hole.   :-D 

Are you there God? It's me Kim.

Look, I don't know shit about shit, but I know right from wrong! ~ Erin Brockovich


(The name of my precious friend has been changed to protect her privacy.)

Are you there God? It’s me Kim! God, I don’t need money, a better place in the grocery line, for my throbbing headache to go away, or even a bigger more urgent prayer to assuage my fears like please don’t let the bridge fall or the plane crash while I’m on it. No, this passionate prayer wasn’t even for me.  It was for my friend, Joan. She needed you to be her protector and defender yesterday when she went to court to get an extended Order of Protection for her and her kids because her husband raped her. Not only had he raped her, but also he verbally, physically, and emotionally abused her and her children for decades. The rape was the final straw that sent her to the police.

I don’t understand? I had one prayer and one prayer only: Stand between Joan and her husband and protect her. I was counting on you God. No, I was more than counting on you, I was putting every ounce of faith I had in you alone. I was so convinced in my spirit that you would come through for Joan. At the end of the day, I thought justice was blind and you were deaf because nothing went Joan’s way. Between you and me, I go back and forth between shock, crying, and anger.

How could this happen? I felt like for the past few days, I have had to watch my friend be violated again. This time by corrupt police who are sworn to protect and serve instead of cover their asses because they made mistakes. Along with a justice system that doesn’t entirely protect victims of domestic crimes, who instead allow lawyers to use legal jargon to bully victims of domestic abuse with their “motions to vacate orders’ ‘objections’ and ‘hearsays’. Whoever has the best lawyer wins. But here’s the thing God, Joan didn’t have a lawyer.

Joan had to represent herself because her free legal service backed out at the last minute. We couldn’t figure out why her legal counsel backed out until Joan went to the police department and picked up her police report. It was INACCURETE! She didn’t get this police report three days later, but three weeks later. She kept calling the police department and asking for the report but they kept telling her it wasn’t ready and they’d call her when it was. My guess is they wrote up their report days, maybe a week or two, later and some of the details were incorrect because of a faulty memory.

Worse yet, when we went to the police station to ask for a more exact report, she was met by a compassionless, defensive, intimidating cop who told her "No, we won’t change it. Because women come in here all the time and change their minds.” Joan wasn’t changing her mind, they got the facts wrong. In fact, she was told, “I have a hard time believing that my officer with 24 years of experience writing up police reports could make that many mistakes in a report!” You’d think, but he did. Joan had a witness present with her the day she came in to tell the police her husband raped her. At no time did Joan sign anything or see the officer write up the report in her presence. She wasn’t even asked to give a written statement when she came in to report the rape. Then the officer intimidated us with his flak-jacketed, flared-out chest and both hands on his hip, standing over us, demanding to know if 'we were questioning his character as a veteran police officer?' Yes we were! They made mistakes! Joan knew her husband’s lawyer had his incorrect report. And this misleading report stated that Joan said he never physically abused her and that she consented to sex.

Devastated and feeling legally abandoned and unprotected, Joan pulled herself together and prepared a statement to read to the judge. She wanted the longest amount of time for the Order of Protection for herself. She wanted her husband to have court supervision while in the presence of their children for 6 months, with counseling. Then she wanted the children’s visitation to be revaluated in another 6 months by the court. Joan’s written statement to the judge was about what happened on 12/15/10 and also stated severe abuses had taken place in the past twenty years of their marriage. She wanted to establish why she feared for her life, and even why she allowed the rape to happen against her will because her husband had previously threatened to kill her.  But the previous abuses or threats would not be allowed in court.

 The first judge of the day was insensitive, impatient and didn’t think Joan’s case had enough legs to stand on and that’s why her free legal counsel was not present with her. The judge was perturbed. Why? Because the husband’s self-righteous lawyer made sure to tell him that she didn’t have a case and ask for a psych-evaluation for Joan. He came out swinging. This was not good! We all held hands and prayed and tried to send thoughts of strength and courage to Joan while she stood there alone before Judge Jerk! Joan was not granted an extension of her Order of Protection for three more weeks so she could find another lawyer. Instead, she was sent to another courtroom, on the same day, before another judge. She was forced to proceed in a ‘hearing’ and defend herself before the judge alone; all by herself with no legal counsel!!! Even Erin Brockovich had some time to prepare a case. Obviously none of the eight of us who showed up to support Joan watched enough Law & Order to give her tips on how to pull her case together in one hour. We were too focused on pulling Joan together with our glances of love and hugs. She was shaking, crying, drained, scared, and unprepared. She was in over her head.

People have asked me God, why Joan didn’t have her husband arrested? She had grounds. Victims of domestic abuse (any kind of abuse) are in shock and they are terrified. In the beginning, I trusted you God to help navigate those first days and weeks. You helped her wrap her mind around that she had finally found the courage—left this man who has bullied, controlled, and abused her for years. We all held our breath and prayed. You came through during those first few weeks. You sheltered and protected Joan. She said remarkable things that only a person who has fled danger could say, “I have 30 more years of happiness ahead of me!” We all watched Joan’s husband treat her with verbal disrespect and unkindness. So all of us we’re so happy for that possibility of a new future for Joan. Yet our hearts were so sad for the kids because they were so confused. I saw amazing provision when you sent her parents up from AZ to give Joan their car, and help with some expenses because she was left penniless. People left and right were giving her support financially.  She needs it because she had nothing. I thank you for that. I mean, I REALLY thank you for that. Joan was buoyed by your divine presence during those initial days through the love and support of others. You helped Joan get as strong as she could be under the circumstances. We, her closest friends, praised you for all that you were doing. So I thought you were on Joan’s side. And our biggest concern was not realized: we really thought Joan’s husband was gonna go off the deep end and hurt Joan. It was Joan’s greatest fear. She told me, “I don’t want to become one of those statistics.” That was haunting to hear Joan say that to me. So all I could do was pray. I couldn’t give her a gun or a Rottweiler. I could only pray. However, you kept her safe at night and during the day the last three weeks and always had people with her. You helped the fog lift from her brain so she could take steps to move forward, think about a new job and a new place to live, and sleep. She’s still not out of the woods yet. All of us know that she has a mountain yet to climb and get over. We all see a transformation-taking place in Joan. I believe in her.

For hours we sat on a hard bench in the courtroom, crying, holding in gasps of shock, praying, sending our love. We watched as Joan laid all her papers out before her at the lawyers’ table. I could see her hands shaking. I watched as she nervously kept bringing her hands to her face then run them through her hair. She tried to talk and usually was cut off by the judge or the lawyer because she didn’t know procedure. The rules in court were not going to be different because she wasn’t a lawyer herself. I watched her husband’s aggressive lawyer delight in every legal opportunity to rattle Joan, mock her, and shut her down. The incorrect police report would be used against Joan over and over in court. That lawyer battered her with it, implying she was a liar and her statements were inconsistent. I wanted to smack him up side the head with his yellow legal pad. I have no idea how some lawyers’ sleep at night?

But bless-Joan’s-heart, she hung in there. Joan couldn’t establish a pattern of abuse, she could only tell of the night of the rape. No opportunity to tell of the times he chased her, put her up against a wall by the throat, or when a machete knife was held to her throat, or when he grabbed her off the couch and threw her across the room. No chance to tell how he’s frightened his children and verbally attacked each of them with his 285 pounds of intimidation, and at times physically abused them too. No, this scumbag lawyer persuaded the judge that legally Joan could only talk about the night in question. The night she told her husband, "No, I don't want to have sex tonight. No! It's not is gonna happen. I told you what my boundaries were, I'm not having anymore sex that I don't want to have. You can't make me. It's a healthy boundary." The night she had to lay there as her husband said, “I will take it (sex) if I want it. This is your wifely duty!” In our mind, we always thought, NO means NO!!! Even if you have to lie there, while someone climbs on top of you, and you allow it to happen to protect yourself because your are afraid, it's rape.  I could relate to Joan only on a small level because this happened to me as a date rape. If you say no and they persist, it is rape. I don’t believe many man are able to fully understand the fear-factor that men have over women when it comes to sex. Joan didn’t resist her husband because the children were in the next room, because of his increasing and escalating aggression. She feared for herself and her children so she just let him ‘do it’. You saw what happened, you were there too. You are El Roi, the God who sees. She didn’t fight back because she was protecting herself and her children. But she took the first step to fight back the next day and went to the police. That wasn’t taken into consideration in court.

I watched Joan’s husband shake his head in disagreement and shock as if to say, "No, I could never do those things. I’m not like that." He had brought people from their church to sit in court on his behalf—men who have NO clue of the fear that Joan has had to endure. These churchmen never called Joan to hear her side of the story. They sat in support of this abuser—this man that has fooled everyone with manipulation and control. The most shocking part of the day was Joan, who had to be her own legal counsel, had to cross-examine her husband on the witness stand. He conveniently said, “I don’t remember” when Joan asked questions on cross-examination like, “Why was I upset the next morning and tell you to leave?” He told the court how they made love and Joan received his embraces and kisses ‘willingly’, and how Joan spooned him before and afterwards their feet touched as they fell asleep. She was in a fetal position shaking and crying afterwards, but he said nothing about that. We watched him boldface lie—again and again. But he’s been doing it for years so it didn’t surprise us. I wanted to throw-up listening his distorted and twisted lies spill out so easily.

Joan’s witness, her sister Katie, took the stand on Joan’s behalf to shed truth about what was said to the police the day after she was raped. She was there. She heard everything Joan said to the police. This was hard to watch Katie be cross-examined by the lawyer. Katie supported Joan’s truth and tried to right a wrong by the police. Yet it wasn’t good enough in the end. We all saw Katie be brave on the witness stand. She was (as we’ve always known her to be) truthful and direct.

After the cross-examining process, Joan presented her closing argument. I watched my friend beg the judge to please protect her and her children by granting her request. She begged. She didn’t ask like a lawyer. She begged like a woman who was afraid: afraid this man will break into her home some night and kill her, afraid that he was going to be around her children unsupervised. Yet the law wouldn’t protect her or her children. The Order of Protection was dismissed. He was free to go to their house, free to see the children. And God, I don’t get it? You didn’t move the heart of the judge to rule in Joan’s favor. Joan’s husband got away with rape (and other abuses). There was no protection, no mercy. Who will be her shield, her defender? The law? NO!!! I watched Joan crumble as her father took her in his arms, as each relative and each friend took on some of her sadness as we held her and cried.

God, I really thought you were going to come through for Joan in court. I thought the hands of justice and the hands of prayer would serve Joan. This seemed like a no-brainer to me. I figured the judge has seen men like Joan’s husband over and over again and would see right through his lies. My faith is kind of rocked right in this moment. Not because you’ve stopped being good, or stopped being in control, but because I don’t feel like I could spiritually encourage Joan again with the same confidence. For days I was saying, “Trust me Joan, God is gonna come through for you. He’s gonna protect you. He’s gonna make your case shine like the noonday sun. He’s gonna stand between you and this man whose abused you for years. He will protect you!” Lord, now I don’t know what you’re gonna do?

I know that many prayers don’t get answered. People pray for healing and don’t get healed. People pray for jobs and don’t get jobs. I’m sure millions of holocaust victims prayed for deliverance but it came too late. And I’m sure Joan’s children may have even been praying that Mommy and Daddy get back together and that prayer won’t get answered. Why do I think that I had some special link to the heart of God to convince you on this matter? I felt sure in my heart of heart that you were going to do this for Joan. Not so much because I was asking, but because it was obvious she needed your help. You help the helpless, right?  Maybe Joan wasn’t so helpless? She did the impossible yesterday and it will make her stronger. If necessary, Joan was surrounded by a posse of people that could move mountains on her behalf. We will be her justice.  We will validate what was invalidated. We will be the hands and feet of Jesus. Is that what you want?   

I know you heard every plea for Joan. I know because you are good, you have a bigger picture of why things unfolded like they did. Your ways are not my ways. I’m not going to stop praying. However, I have one more prayer request for Joan: PLEASE don’t let that man bring any harm to her again. If she has difficulty trying to deal with his asinine manipulative behavior until the day those children turn 18, fine. She won’t be fooled by it any more. If she has to struggle and eat macaroni and cheese for years to come, fine. She is pretty resourceful and we won’t let her starve. But I’m begging you God, PLEASE don’t let anything happen to Joan. The court may not have been able to legally protect Joan. We may not be able to protect her and stand guard. But what little faith I have in this moment (a mustard seed), I know that you still can supernaturally protect Joan.

Note to Self

Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man.  ~Benjamin Franklin

Dear Future Kim,

I just wanted to give you a heads up in 2011 so you can move forward and not go backwards. Note to Self: You did pretty well in 2010, but I’d like to point out some things so you don’t fall on your ass and break your coccyx again. That’s right, I said, coccyx. You know what that is now that you’ve passed your first semester of Anatomy (with flying colors I might add). Keep up the good work.  I know you like the subject matter, but what concerns me is you’ve gotten locked into ‘striving’ again. You’ve gotten away from mindful-living since school started. Remember where ambition got you before? Exhausted, with your waking prayer being, “Help me Jesus!” Getting A’s, means you won’t have a life.  However, if you stay organized, you can get B’s (which is acceptable to your ego). That way you can continue to enjoy BEING without losing your self while going back to school in 2011.  Teaching yoga classes for others and hitting the books will make you crazy if you don’t carve out time to do your own yoga practice, meditate, pray, and surround yourself with people who really ‘get you’. Don’t give away all your precious energy. So in between doing downward dog and remembering the bony landmark of the tibia tuberosity and the occipital protuberance, make sure to dial down some of your expectations of yourself and others so you can take pleasure in life

Honor your body’s natural rhythms this winter. Bears hibernate for a reason. Slow down and stay warm. Take naps when you can (don’t feel guilty). Sip warm drinks, watch funny movies, and make sure to do creative things that use the right side of your brain. That will keep you in the present moment and from worrying about next week’s tests. If you hang out in the left side of your brain too much, you’ll be drained in no time at all.

How about in 2011, you cut back on the red meat Ms. Carnivore? In fact, cut out about 500 calories each day. Turing to baloney sandwiches on Wonder Bread when other people ignore, misjudge, or disappoint is really stupid. I mean Freakin Stupid!! In 2011, it’s time to DEAL with your dependence to all things processed.  Last year your goal was to get in shape for the spring. This year’s goal for 2011 is to get in shape so the TSA don’t talk about you after you go through the scanner. As your internal self, I personally think you sabotage your weight because you don’t believe you can keep it off permanently. Look into that. Don’t worry, the answers and help will come. You intuitively KNOW what’s best for you and want to do it. Just make space for honoring all your experiences and emotions then let them go! You only have this present moment, be good to yourself!

Don’t let 2011 pass without enjoying all of those friendships that bless you in your spare time. There are also people you don’t really enjoy being around anymore because of how little they care about you. If I made a pie chart, I’d say that you spend about 15% or your mental energy trying to win these people’s approval. I know you think you are a nice person and everyone should like you-they don’t! And just because you do A, doesn’t mean it’s going to get you B. Stop waiting for relationships that are complicated to magically change into a Disney Movie. Have you ever had a cartoon blue bird land on your shoulder and start singing? NO! Get over it Pollyanna! Accept those parts of your life that may always be complex. If it changes, great! If it doesn’t, move on! Remember when you were a kid after a storm? You’d hop on your bike and try to chase after the rainbow? Some things can never be reached, so let go of false hope. In your heart of hearts you know where you tried. Accept things as they are, not what you want them to be.

 Also, remember, nothing is ENTIERLY your fault. You’ve been doing better with that, but you have a ways to go. Stop taking on all the responsibility for other people’s behavior or attitudes. Take a deep breath, smile, and walk away. Oh and Kim, it’s okay to walk away, not call, not text, not show up, etc. Those who want to do life with you will invite you to sit at the table. Those who don’t really want to do life with you are not losing sleep over making things better with you. So don’t lose sleep over them. You’re a big girl; you can handle it more than you think. Remember that everyone has their ‘own issues’ that they’re dealing with just like you. There are always two sides of every coin. Let go of what can’t be fixed by one person alone.  Own your own stuff, not others. This need for people’s approval, doesn’t serve you. Actually, it bugs the crap out of me when you do this. Relationships should never be one-sided. Give your heart and soul to those who dig having you around and appreciate what you bring to their world.

In the meantime, expand your world more so your heart doesn’t get small. You have a passion for the under resourced, social justice, diversity (even religious diversity), and peace. Yeah, you’re probably the most idealistic person I know, so find a pocket of life where you can find more ways to express this passion. You’re not the only one who wants more peace and sanity. You get into these enthusiastic conversations with others where you’re practically levitating. It’s because you have all this zeal and energy that you need to let out. God has placed it in your heart for a reason, so go discover where you can make a difference this year. Take some risks. Let’s see if by May of 2011 you can plug in somewhere.

You and Rich are on a different path then many of your Evangelical Christian friends. I think God has done that for a purpose that’s yet to unfold before your eyes. Don’t panic. You’re outside the Christian bubble you once lived in. You fret that it makes others question your faith in Christ, loyalty to the church, or whether you are a spiritual heathen. It’s okay that you don’t agree with all of Wayne Grudem Systematic Theology and find yourself more in alignment with Brian McLaren. Trust me, you are rock solid when it comes to Christ, but everything else has been questioned. You are glad for the shift within. Don’t doubt the deeper good of why this has happened. And for the love of Peter, stop worrying about how to defend these changes. Continue forward with Act 10: 34-35  “I see very clearly that God doesn’t show partiality. In every nation he accepts those who fear him and do what is right.”  Continue to have an open mind and an open heart. All God is asking you to do is “recklessly Love” others who are seekers and those who are not seeking. They are all the same to Him.

Something else you may need to know: Home is where the heart is. You’ve seen friends lose their homes.  They have been devastated and broken by it. I don’t blame them. How does one give up their home? It happens for so many reasons. This is not an easy economy and things that you thought were an investment (like real estate) are worthless now. It is NOT the end of the world. Keep a loose grip on ‘stuff’ and an even looser grip on all those American Dreams. Instead, keep a firm grip on things that are Eternal--things that really last. You have an awesome husband and a Fred the wonder dog. What else do you need? Remind yourself of that; in case the time comes when, like millions of other Americans, you have to let go of a place that you ‘think’ is your real home. Don’t be attached to anything. If you have the answer already settled in your mind, it won’t shake your foundation should the day come when you have to move. Continue to be grateful for all you have, because you have SOOOOOOO much!

Have fun in 2011! Meet your friends for lunch, and meet your husband for lunch. I guess that proves lunch is your favorite meal of the day. Enjoy! Start getting a business plan in place too. Create a vision. Things are ramping up with your massage and yoga therapy.  Also, face it, you’re getting older: peri-menopause is full on and is starting to mess with your head. Start reading up on it. You were pretty tripped up on all your stops and starts from month to month. Don’t become one of the irrational women whose husbands need to cut a wide path around them because they are going through the ‘change’. Oh and don’t freak out in the spring if you lose all your hair. You’ll probably blow-your-coat again so go buy some cute hats. Problem solved! Continue to be a kid at heart. Go to the parades (I dare you to go to a gay one); discover new things—you have a Prius so you can go anywhere for pennies, make those mindful moments happen: sitting under trees and marvel at stillness, watch the squirrels carry their nuts. Make friends with every new puppy you can meet. Dance like a fool, sing like you’ve been gifted a voice (ignore that everyone knows you we not), laugh until you pee in your pants, and love from a pure place that is your true self. Keep writing even though it makes others wonder what planet you’re from, or fear you’ll write something that paints them in a bad light. Just write your own truth. Be real and be vulnerable. Sometimes you’ll write something that matters and other times it will be pitiful dribble from the heart of a fool. And remember what Kevin says, “Do what makes you happy, Mom.” Okay, Kev, I’m on it! And lastly, if you do nothing else, BREATHE and stay present!

All the best in 2011 as things unfold moment by moment,

Past Kim

Thanks-giving

For many people the holidays are hard. It could be that they subconsciously avoid all the possible expectations that they could never meet with their past and present family, so they stay away or wish they could stay away. Why bother? Like a dog, they know when they are truly welcome from the heart.  We know whose glad to see us, who wants us in the pictures that they’ll post of Facebook. We know who smiles to your face but is talking behind your back.  For some, there is disappointments that go all the way back to childhood. I get it. Why set yourself up for more rejection or judgment?

In my family of origin (on both sides), Thanksgiving was met with little emotional thanks giving. The turkey was more carefully sliced up then the cutting comments behind each other’s back. As a kid, watching this had a profound affect on me. I couldn’t understand why my relatives were together if they didn’t like each other?  My grandmother told me. “We came for you kids.” While that was a nice gesture Gram, the negative energy leading up to and after was not worth it. ‘We kids’ would have been better off woofing down turkey dinner than going off to play our kid game of ‘Battleship’ in our rooms. It would have been better then watching real ‘family cold war battleship’ played out before our eyes with silence or side ways glances. What you all wanted to say but didn't was “F-U. YOU SUNK MY BATTLESHIP!!!”  For years I’d hear behind each others backs: “You made runny Jell-O.  You set out cold cuts instead of making us a holiday meal! You didn’t invite me to Thanksgiving at the restaurant!  You did this, you did that! You said this, you said that! Your mother this, your mother that!” REALLY, PEOPLE? I was 6 years old; I knew something was wrong in our family; and not just at the holidays. All of familial elders modeled divisive discord, gossip, and judgment to my brothers before we learned it out in the real world.  There were no dishes of kindness, acceptance, love served around our holiday dinner table. There was no pleasing anyone! 

To this day, many of them will go to their graves arguing for the right-to-be-right and won’t speak to each other. They would rather ‘be right than be in relationship’. Not a single one of them know how to forgive! And I have to be honest, that makes me both mad and sad. Thanks for the psychic scars, thanks for pretending to be a family when you really hated each other. My brothers and I were the bumper shock absorber of all the family discord each holiday. We felt it, making every childhood holiday tense and depleting. This probably explains my hesitancy going into the holiday season. I internally brace myself for someone being upset with me or somebody else. 

I’m all about Thanksgiving. I live for the stuffing and the pumpkin pie. My favorite part is left over turkey sandwiches the-day-after with butter and pepper. Don’t ask, I have no idea why either. Maybe it’s all I have left of my childhood memory of the holiday that taste good?

I once acted like a total ass with my brother’s Mike and Rich while in AZ during Thanksgiving.  We were at a restaurant and a waitress spilled an entire drink onto my brother. He was rattled and the waitress was rattled. I could see how upset my brother Mike was and the fear of a ruined gathering came flooding to my mind. Then my other brother, Rich,  (not to be confused with my husband Rich) started to nag about the service of this already poor rattled waitress. I could feel my blood pressure rising from a dormant well of childhood feelings. I couldn’t scream then “BE NICE!” But I could now. I was getting pissed that our only time together was turning into the meal from hell. I just wanted my brothers to stop having bad feelings. I wanted everyone to be happy. Why? Because when they are upset, it affects me. There you have it! I want everyone to be happy! I want Norman Rockwell damn-it! So being the wise older sister, I told them all off (at the table and later in an obnoxious, self-righteous email). They don’t know what to do with me sometimes. I’m both the bossy sister and the peacemaker. I boss them into being peaceful. It’s pretty twisted. 

When my husband, Rich, and I argue, our dog Fred will start running around the house barking uncontrollably. He first pretends he’s barking at something outside, but we soon figured out that Fred's just upset that we are upset. That is what I did with my brothers at the restaurant. I don’t do well when other people are angry. It bursts my carefully crafted bubble of ‘niceness’. I start internally barking and circling, panicked with the intense energy of others disappointment of me and others. This probably explains why at the core of my being, I’m a true hippy: ‘All We Need Is Love’, sang the Beatles. And if I can’t have sincere love while around others then I want to be away from everyone. I don’t want others to just be kind to me, I want them to be nice to EVERYONE at the table: No gossip, no backbiting, no snarky comments, no cold shoulder, and no defensiveness, no past shit! For the love of RINGO, let it go!

I had some clean up to do after that Thanksgiving in AZ two years ago. I was especially proud of my brother Mike and I. We sorted out our feelings through 5 emails back and forth. I felt so grown up. We didn’t cut each other off (which is what people do in my family). Mike and I gave each other permission to be scared, human, flawed, and vulnerable. We heard each other out and then moved on. Do you know that it was the first time in the history of my family that two people rationally talked things out? It was HUGE!

My brother Rich and I have some more sorting out to do (but this time it has nothing to do with that Thanksgiving visit). Rich needs to own his part, but for ‘my part’ of the present breakdown, still has everything to do with me being the bossy sister who wants peace and tries to fix her broken world. I can trace it all back to my need for everyone to just be kind to each other, to put the past aside, to love, to forgive. Yet, in life, it doesn’t work that way. We can’t control how other people feel or behave. I need to allow other people permission to just ‘be’. We each have our own pain and how we react to it is personal. This is how I react to it; I am the ‘nice police’. And it all started because of the holidays. 

I miss my brother Rich very much. He’s a good guy. But we have a very complicated family that has set us up for some nuclear fusion of emotions. Our goals and personality get in the way of our desired objective for world dominance or family peace. I don’t care about being right. I just care about being in relationship! 

You will always be my brother and I love you Rich. And even though on some level history is repeating itself and we can’t have Thanksgiving together, I still give thanks for you!

Kim was a Bullfrog

Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine. I never understood a single work he said, but I helped him to drink his wine. And he always had some mighty fine wine.   ~Three Dog Night, Joy To the World.

I love that song. I don’t know why but I do. Maybe it’s because it has a quality of grace and celebration of friendship? Whoever Jeremiah was, his friend accepted him for being a bullfrog. The fact that they drink wine together and sing a blessing to the whole world makes it all the more better.  I even want this song played at my funeral. Seriously!

I’ve been thinking a lot about friendship as I drove 1600 miles round trip from IL to NJ and back again. I just spent a celebration weekend with my dear friend, Pam Stoy.  It was my birthday. Pam has always known how to make her friends feel loved. It’s a gift. She excels at domestic goddess-ness. Pam and I were neighbors for five years when I first got married in 1988. We were young and passionate; trying to figure out life as women. We took long walks and kicked stones as we pondered politics and our ever-changing plump thighs (which were hardly plumb back then. You don’t appreciate what we have when you’re young). We wondered why guys were clueless, and why people we loved didn’t ‘get us’ at times. We tried to solve the world’s problems over glasses of wine (and ice cream). Pam probably never understood a single word I said either.  I was the bullfrog of the friendship.

When I was 22, someone posed the question: Who will come to your funeral, and what would they say about your character? I remember that stuck with me at such a young age. I didn’t think there would be many at my funeral, but I hoped they’d say nice things. I had hope that I would make a difference and leave a legacy of love behind. I remember I decided then that I would learn how to become a good friend. I have made my share of mistakes through the years in the friendship department. I know I've let people down and said things I shouldn't. I regret the impulsive arrogant boldness of my youth. But over all, I’d give myself high marks today. My friends know I love them and would give a kidney, take a hill, and even take a bullet if necessary. I’m as loyal as a Labrador. And at this stage, they also know that whatever they say, it's duly noted and may end up in a novel (the names will be changed to protect the guilty). Even when time passes or we don’t live or work in proximity to each other, it doesn’t take away my affection. Proverbs 17:17-A friend loves at all times.

Someone once said, “You’ll be the same person you are in five years except for the books you read and the people you hang around with.” I have to be honest, there were a few friends along the way I had to say goodbye to. I’m sure some said goodbye to me as well. However, I know that I wouldn’t be the person I am today without weaving the better parts of others into the fabric of my being-these sacred threads of friendship and experience. 

Turning 47 this week has got me thinking about how far I’ve come. Truth be told, I've come a long way. And I've gotten this far because I was wise enough to surround myself with amazing friends of different backgrounds whom I could glean from. 

Sometimes, not all the time, family lets you down. In my case, God knew that what I lacked in the family unconditional love department, He’d make up 100x with friendships that were lasting, accepting, and sincere. Blood may be thicker than water, but love is a choice-whether they are family or not. Much of the heartbreak in my life has been over family. My friends have seen me through the years as I’ve sought to figure out the complexity of life. They have seen me redline emotionally, swollen face by the ugly cry, unable to move past a problem for a season. And they have seen me pee my pants while laughing hysterically (something that happens the older we all get). They know my fears of germs, crossing bridges, snakes, and being alone when I'm old. My oddities and quirks seem amusing.  

I’ve been known for my War & Peace length emails, so I will spare you. But I do want to share what has been passed on to me by a few of my companions. I’ll only mention a few friends. I wish I could mention everyone. 

Deb is my Sisterchick who taught me to value myself. She is an outstanding mom. Deb mirrors God’s grace and acceptance to me no matter what stupid things I’ve done or said: past, present, or future. I’ve been given permission to be myself around her. 

Peaches, Lisa, and Sandi have some history (dirt) on me. It’s fun to walk down memory lane with these crazy gals. When I’m around them, my spirit wants to dance on the table and party. And they know I would if given the chance. 

Kris taught me how to be a devoted wife. I was married 5 years when Kris came into my life to model commitment to marriage and going the distance. Just in the nick of time, thank God! There are very few women in the world who truly honor their husband through ups and downs with a sweet attitude. 

Steve taught me to drink real wine, re-think my politics, and how to to laugh myself. 

Steve’s sense of humor is unmatched. No matter how unpredictable life can be (like when his son developed leukemia and needed a bone marrow transplant), Steve finds humor in most things after the crying has passed--with God’s help. Karen has spoken truth to me when I didn’t want to hear it. We should all surround ourselves with people who will tell us when we’re ‘full of crap’ and need to take another look at a situation because God’s not finished with us yet. 

Whatever Patti puts her mind to, she does with excellence. The creative side of me resonates with her creative side. Patti has a keen eye and an even sharper perspective on life that others don’t often see or appreciate. 

Bohemian Jessie is an intuitive empathic. She loves those that are broken and forgotten in life. Because she loves Jesus, that simple truth motivates Jessie to give herself to others and the One who loves her completely. Bonnie is my biggest cheerleader. I can see Bonnie’s pom-poms from wherever I’m sitting up in the balcony. Bonnie taught me how to be a better encourager.   

Kimmie is bawdy, sassy, and has more compassion and justice in her soul than anyone I know. She aches for those who are under-resourced and marginalized. If she could, Kimmie would smack injustice upside the head. I want to stand up and march right along side of her. 

Once in a while, when I need to open up, I’ll say, “If you really knew me, you’d know _______________________________.” It’s a great icebreaker. I don’t do shallow very well. Talking about the weather and my latest ailment bore me too. I want to know EVERYTHING about you, and I want you to know me too. Isn’t that what life is about anyway? Don’t we all want to be known? It takes risk and intention to be the 'authentic-true-you' with those God brings into your life. 

When I met Susie, I liked her instantly. Her laugh and hospitality were contagious. I could walk into her house and she’d give me a room, the car, and tell me to make myself comfortable. That meant I had refrigerator rights. I have a standing invitation to come and be family. Our conversations go deep quickly. That kind of intimacy can create fear. I told Susie within weeks of us becoming fast friends, “I am going to disappoint you, let’s just get that out of the way now. In fact, we’ll both disappoint each other.”  And we have had one or two fleeting puzzling moments. But that honestly has only made us closer because we didn't retreat, we talk and then moved on. Susie has taught me to be real and raw and how not to hide your hurts. Life is too short to pretend. 

Friendship is about genuine trust, chemistry, and camaraderie. We give our hearts to another in hopes that they will ‘Get Us’ and want to stick around and do life together from time to time. It’s about ‘give and take’ as we invest in each other. I’m thankful for those who will remain my ‘life-long relationships’, and for how they have transformed me. My friends have seen me through my darkest hours and my brightest days. Ecclesiastes 4:9-11 Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friends can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!

I’m here today because of my friends. I look forward to many more years of drinking glasses of wine and singing at the top of my lungs, ‘Joy to the World’. 

Leggo My Ego

“There is nothing wrong with change, if it is in the right direction.” ~Winston Churchill.

Have you ever been forced by life to do ‘the hard thing’ you didn’t want to do? Of course you have. I’d be curious to know what the hard thing is in your life that is forcing you into personal growth--towards greater acceptance of ‘what is’.

I have to be honest, I don’t like change: I don’t like to change my hair, I don’t like to change the clock for Daylight Savings, I don’t like take my car in to change the oil. And those are EASY things to change. You’d think by now I’d know that ‘Resistance is Futile’ because change is usually compulsory. I wish I had the attitude and maturity that takes-on whatever comes my way: Put on my ‘change hat or change shoes’ and just accessorize the hell out of change and work it. The problem with change is my unwillingness to give change an open invitation to my life before it arrives.

Dear Change, I would love for you to stop by sometime; I know deep down in the recesses of my soul that some ‘Change’ in life is good. But truthfully, I’m busy right now. When you show up, well, my life feels out of control. You probably don’t mean to do that. But I get pretty tipped over when you start requiring me to lean into the unavoidable. I’m planning on a change in the future but prefer if you wait for my invitation before stopping by. When you get my formal request that I’m wide open to your delightful company, please RSVP so I’ll know your really coming. Please don’t take this personal, it’s not you, it’s me.

Yep it’s ALL me. I want to know outcomes because I’m a control freak and I don’t like emotional pain. Change is typically uncertain. Sometimes we have the luxury of creating our own change. When that happens it’s exhilarating. I once tagged along on a ministry jaunt to California to check out another church that was doing some amazing Pastoral Community Care Outreach in their community. Every day was filled with new ideas, laughter, and new friendships. By the time I left, I was offered a job. Everything in my spirit said, “YES!” I went home, walked in the door and said to Rich, “How would you like to move to California?” To this day, it was the craziest thing he ever let me talk him into. Three months later we ‘loaded up the truck and moved to Bev-er-ly.’ Not really Beverly, but that was the song we sang driving across country with our life packed up in boxes. The next year in CA was full of change; some good change, some not so good. We were back home in IL a year later. It was truly one of the most fascinating times of my adult life. It was like I was in a Hothouse of growth. I learned so much about myself. During that season of my life, all that change seemed serendipitous in nature; there wasn’t much internal resistance.

I tell myself that even though I don’t like change, what’s the alternative: run from it, ignore it, stay stuck, be miserable, or bore people with my incessant complaining? My typical conditioned style of dysfunctional behavior is to run, ignore, and complain. If I stay in that place long enough, I even start annoying myself. If you hang around me you should slap me, like Cher in Moonstruck, “Snap out of it!’

When I get like that I HAVE to get quite and still. I have to stop thinking, or at least slow down the stream of thought. When I do, a scary but loving voice of truth arises from within: You have to go to the hard place Kim. You can’t do it alone. You’re going to have to face your fears of failure, rejection, you’re going to have to listen to others opinions of you that may or may not be fair-minded, you’re going to have to accept the outcome, you’re going to have to probably admit you blew it in some areas. This time the change you want is probably going to make you and others around you very uncomfortable. It’s not that the necessary change that’s coming is bad, it’s nobody likes change (including yourself.) So prepare yourself. Oh GEEZ! REALLY? Can’t I just opt for a lobotomy or move to Peru and call it a day?

The tag line for the old Kellogg’s commercial, “Leggo My Eggo” reminds me to leggo my ego. I don’t like change because I am pretty attached to my ego. My ego wants to protect my fragile sense of self, and wants to make my life comfortable and pain-free.  My ego is a brat. The reason I don’t like change and indulge my ego is fear.

So I don’t know what current change you’re going through (relationships, finances, health, etc.) but at the end of the day (or blog) you have a few choices: Life can either be accepted or changed. If it is not accepted, it must be changed. If it cannot be changed, then it must be accepted.” ~Unknown.