A few weeks ago, a friend in town asked me if I’d seen the rainbow that followed a quick rainstorm one evening. “No,” I replied, “I can’t see the sky from my place.”  She was silent for a moment and then said, “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Though I laughed it off at the time, I’ve given that exchange a lot of thought. While my statement was true (I live in a basement condo – and I swear that it’s not nearly as dreary as it sounds), it also represents a much bigger struggle, one not easily resolved.  Interestingly, positive psychology (or perhaps, rather, pop psychology) says, “If you don’t like where you are, change it. You are not a tree.”  Yet in reality, change is a process more than the simple action that this platitude denotes. Oh, unhappy with something?  *snaps fingers* All better!  Just quit!  Just move!  Just cut that person out of your life!  Just stop smoking, drinking, eating, gambling, cursing!  Just give up carbs, fat, sugar! As “simple” as that.

Unfortunately, that’s not been my experience of how life works.  There aren’t any genies in a bottle, waiting to grant you your three wishes (and thank goodness for that, really!)  No, long-term, sustainable change is a process of planning and progress…but rarely straight-on, forward motion.  No, it’s often more like a two steps forward, one step back kind of shuffle, all the while dodging potholes and one-way traffic treadles.  

It’s easy to get tired.  It’s easy to get discouraged.  It’s easy to feel alone.  Yet it is important to remember this:  whether you can see it or not, the rainbow’s there.  

Last year, I heard about a training program in my town for women who wanted to do a 4-Miler race in the fall.  I signed up, hoping it would be another chance to meet people (and I’m happy to say that did happen.)  Every Saturday, I dragged my butt out of bed and to the university track at 6:45 AM to train.  I had days where I felt great and days where I didn’t think I’d ever be able to walk 4 miles straight.  I had days when I felt like it wasn’t good enough to just walk it.  But I did it and felt in every sense of the word that I had accomplished something huge.  

It seemed natural, then, that I would sign up again this year and so I did.  And I started off strong, dragging a friend with me and walking two nights a week.  But it’s been a struggle. Honestly, I am still struggling with walking not being enough.  In my logical rational mind, I know that is silly.  I’m doing more than the person sitting on their couch  but I can’t tell you how many times people who run have made negative comments about their own dismay in “having to walk” part of the race or about someone else “having to walk” or “just walking”.  And it makes me feel bad about myself. Add to that the fact that the summer started off hot and so humid I was left breathless with any exertion.  I’ve also been dealing with a lot of pain – hips, back, achilles – and my insurance wouldn’t allow me back to my trust physical therapists until next week; dealing with chronic pain for over 14 years usually has me push through but lately I’ve not felt it wise to do so. More Saturday mornings than not, I’ve just wanted to stay in bed and catch up on the sleep I’ve missed due to work, stress, and various other things. 

This year, I just really don’t want to do it.  I don’t want to get up at 6:45 AM every Saturday.  I don’t want my body to hurt.  And I don’t want to come away feeling like I’m not enough because I walk instead of run.  But I feel terribly guilty saying that and even more guilty bailing on it altogether.  

But why in the world do I feel guilty about not doing something that basically only impacts me?  Sure, my friends may be disappointed if I don’t follow through but it’s not a deal breaker for our relationships.  They know I’ve been struggling and have had struggles of their own.  No, it all goes back to me and this standard I’ve set for myself (and sometimes for others) of following through on commitments, no matter how tired or busy I am, no matter how much I simply don’t “feel like it”.  Not feeling like it never seems like a good enough reason to bail on anything, in my perspective.  But why isn’t it?  

I did it last year.  I fought through and showed myself and my world I could do it.  There is no shame in bowing out gracefully this year, despite the commitment.  The money goes to a good cause, after all, whether I train or not, whether I do the race or not.  And what’s the worst thing that happens if I don’t do it?  Absolutely nothing.  Will the world end?  Certainly not.  Will wars break out?  No.  Will people shun me or tease me?  Not likely.  But yet I still feel disappointed in myself, despite the fact that everything in me is screaming, “I don’t wanna!” and the grown up, rational part of me is whispering, “And you don’t have to.”

I decided a few weeks ago to enter a blog contest.  It is for the visitor’s bureau in my town and the goal is to highlight activities/venues of interest.  There is a ton to do here – it is really quite overwhelming when I think about it sometimes – and I figured that most of the things I take people to when they visit would be highlighted in other’s entries.  After some thought, it came to me:  I wondered if there were any labyrinths in town.

Now, at the outset, this is probably a strange idea to spring to mind.  But I became interested in what is known as “walking the labyrinth” a few years ago when I read a magazine article about it.  While most think of a maze with high shrubbery walls to get lost within as you choose which route to take, a labyrinth is very different.  It generally has a single, non-branching path in to and out from the center.  Some use it a spiritual tool for prayer or meditation, while others find it helpful for relaxation or refocusing.  

It was around Easter time a few years ago when I first heard about the practice and I was intrigued.  I was struggling with some personal and professional stress and was really not looking forward to spending another holiday on my own.  I decided that instead of focusing on my singleness and feeling lonely on Easter, I’d instead seek out some local labyrinths and spend time in prayer and reflection.  I found three public labyrinths in the area and set off immediately after church.

Honestly, I felt a little weird.  Here I was, alone on a warm spring day, a holiday, no less, in search of something many had never heard of or even knew existed in our area.  But it seemed fitting, in many ways, so I tried to put that awkward feeling aside.  I remember the first I visited, on the grounds of a church.  It wasn’t very big and I had to figure out where it began so I could begin my walk but as I walked through it, I started to feel my apprehension lifting.  I began to feel calmer, more at peace, and less alone.  The next was similar and I was enjoying my little adventure.  The third and final location, however, was a bit harder to find.  It was in a local park but I couldn’t make heads or tails of where it was.  I walked a trail for a bit and finally found it in the middle of an overgrown field.  It needed tending but the path was visible and so I set out.  Others were walking the trails and could see me, this lone woman, apparently walking in circles in a field.  Again, I felt the awkwardness overtaking me but as I concentrated on the path and focused on my steps, it lifted.  I left feeling refreshed, though I couldn’t rightly pinpoint why or how.  But I knew there was something to this – this stepping outside of oneself for a bit, of putting aside worries and concerns, of focusing on putting one foot in front of the other as the labyrinth took you step by step to the center.

And so that is how it popped into my mind here. I quickly visited the Labyrinth Locator and found two public ones nearby and set off, camera in hand.  Again, as I walked through them I had a similar feeling of peace and of centering;  if you know me, you know that I don’t ascribe to what I often call the “crunchy granola” side of things but there is simply no other way for me to describe the experience. 

While I can’t say for sure if my blog entry will get posted, I hope it does.  I think it’s important to look for the unusual in life, to find those local treasures in the day to day that are often overlooked.

The entrance to the labyrinth at Unity of Charlottesville. It suggests removing your shoes, which I hadn’t done in the past, but there was something meaningful about the experience of walking the path barefoot to the center.

Hey, y’all…I’m guest blogging over at Careless in the Care of God today.  Stop by!

I punched fear in the face today. It felt pretty good.

We’ve all got dreams.  We all have big ideas.  We all, deep down, want something in our lives to be different.  But it’s so easy to get caught up in the what ifs, the negative self-talk, and let our insecurities reign and paralyze us. It’s happened to me more times that I can count and I know for a fact it will happen again and again.  It’s just how I’m wired.  But sometimes, you need to put that all aside, evaluate your options, and take a leap of faith.

What’s the worst thing that can happen?

A few years ago, I read a book by Jon Acuff called Quitter.  I was really struggling with work at the time and actually picked up the book in hopes that it would reveal a secret escape route.  But the key, Acuff said, isn’t just quitting the day job you’re struggling through each day. It’s about making the most of where you are so that you can eventually move forward with your dream – with a plan and a soft place to land.

Honestly, I didn’t like that idea.  I was in a place where I felt like my only option was to blow up my life and start again (which I’ve done and survived, which is likely why the idea sometimes sneaks back into my psyche.)  But Acuff’s words stuck with me and I stuck with the job.

His next book, happily, followed up on the idea of building your dreams.  Start‘s tagline is one of my favorites:  “Punch Fear in the Face, Escape Average, and Do Work that Matters”.   I read it around the same time as I read Donald Miller’s A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and both really resonated with me.  The need for purpose, to make what you do matters, is within all of us. It just looks different in each of our lives, as it should.  And it was time for me to start thinking about mine and continue with some steps I’d already begun with my mission trip to Romania.  I took a huge leap of faith to accept a job in another state, five hours away from all I’d ever known and all I loved.  Frankly, being alone in a new place gave me an opportunity to “dabble” a bit in a few things and try to find out where I wanted to end up;  through all the difficulties, I can say that for that I am thankful.

Just before the new year, I answered an odd email to subscribers of Jon Acuff’s blog.  “Adventurers wanted” was about all it said and I thought what the heck.  I filled out the form, on which you had to list a big dream.  I did so and submitted it without much more thought.

Soon, I learned that he was launching an online community for people to work on their dreams.  I had no idea what it would look like or how folks would interact.  Each day for 30 days in January, we got an email from Jon, giving us something to do or think about, and post about in the group. Seven months later, it’s so interesting to see all I’ve gained from this group.  I’ve met some really cool people I’d never in a million years have crossed paths with otherwise.  But even more than that aspect, I’ve seen people really working toward their dreams – and in the process, encouraging myself and others.

I’m generally fairly quiet in the groups.  I’ll comment now & again and try to offer folks a positive or kind word.  I’ve occasionally posted my own questions and projects for feedback.  But in the past seven months, being a part of the group has encouraged me to look at what my dreams and goals really are and examine how best to achieve them.  And do you know what I’ve learned, time and time again?  Sometimes you need to just tell the negative inner voices to take a hike, punch fear in the face, and leap…because really cool things can happen.  You can find enough gumption to submit an abstract for an online conference, get accepted and present on a topic dear to you – even if you are so scared you feel like you might be sick.  You can keep trying to figure out how to match your passion and purpose with where you’ve found yourself today and not give up.  You can invite an acquaintance for coffee to pick their brain about a new direction that interests you and come away promising that person a proposal detailing some new projects you may work on together – moving you in that new direction you were hoping for.

All because you took a chance.

All because you punched fear in the face.

You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage.  Just literally twenty seconds of embarrassing bravery.  And I promise you, something good will come of it.

Benjamin Mee, We Bought a Zoo (2011)

So true.

I’m in a crappy season, friends, and today strikes me as the pinnacle.  I want to write;  I write in my head a great deal, actually. But what comes out doesn’t feel valuable for you – it’s too raw, too frustrating really to transcribe.  And so ye olde blog languishes, awaiting my keystrokes.

I won’t go into it all, at this point in time.  I’m sure it will all make good blog fodder when all is said & done but for now, suffice it to say that those closest to me are riding the roller coaster with me:  trying to make me keep my hands inside the ride, wear my safety belt, and stop trying to stand up in the moving car…every.damn.day.  I really am quite a challenge sometimes.  Thank God they love me anyway.

My book club’s choice for May was by Liane Moriarty, who is fast becoming one of my favorite authors.  I had read The Husband’s Secret a few months back and suggested What Alice Forgot selfishly, so that I would have an opportunity to read it and discuss.

The story is about Alice (clearly);  following an incident at the gym, Alice has amnesia.  Interestingly, she thinks she is in her 20s with her first child on the way.  She can’t figure out why in the world she was at the gym or why those closest to her, including her husband, are acting oddly with her when she reaches out from the hospital.  In actuality, Alice is now about to turn 40 with three children and an impending divorce.  Without giving much else away, suffice it to say that Alice has changed quite a bit over the years and simply can’t believe it when she hears how she – and things in her life – have changed so dramatically.

This, of course, was great fodder for a book club discussion.  If you were going to sent back to any age, what would it be?  For me, this was a tough one.  Part of me would probably enjoy being back in my early twenties but there was a lot of angst and upheaval in my life at that time that I’d really rather not relive.  And frankly, I’m happier and more “me” than I’ve ever been right now.  That’s certainly not to say things are perfect;  far from it.  But I think I’ve grown and matured so I deal and cope with those things differently.  I can recognize that I am resilient now and I’m certain I couldn’t say that about younger me.

The other deep question that came out of our discussion was this:  what would surprise your 20 year old self about your life today?  There was a lot of quiet reflection on this one;  some chose not to share.  I think emotions were running fairly high and this could have proven to be a tipping point.  I had no trouble finding my answer.  My younger self would be stunned, frankly stunned, to learn what it is I do for a living.  As long as I can remember growing up, once I got passed the weekly ever-changing dreams of what I wanted to be when I grew up (teacher, lawyer, firefighter), which were all fairly dependent on what we were learning about in school or who had come to visit our class that week, I wanted to be a writer.  Any opportunity to write a story or even a paper felt like a win to me.  In high school, I was on the school paper – first, writing sports which, if you know anything about me, was rather ridiculous.  But I did it because it was what I was assigned and because I got to write.  I worked on the paper all through high school, managing to be co-editor with my best friend of the time our senior year.  I wrote creatively a bit as well during that time but the goal and all I worked toward was journalism.

Each year, our newspaper adviser packed us in her station wagon and drove us to downtown Philly for a high school press competition at Temple University.  It was there that I decided where I was going to college – there was no question.  I applied elsewhere because I felt like I should “in case” but I was accepted into Temple’s journalism program by September 9 of my senior year in high school and it was  done deal.  I was going to a writer!

But as I started classes and heard what the real life of a journalist often was, I started to doubt myself.  I started to wonder how or if I could make it.  I had no desire to write obituaries or real estate postings for my livelihood.  I wanted to write exciting things, to chase stories that made a difference.
But time and time again I was told that I’d have to start at the bottom…and the bottom held no appeal to me.  So when the time came to pick a concentration, I went with the “safe” bet and chose public relations.  Little did I know, until I had my first PR job, how difficult THAT could be.   Oh, I could write a heck of a press release but I loathed pitching the story to editors and, even more than that, I loathed that any placement I got us was never enough (not even The Today Show or CNN;  come on!!)  And so when the opportunity arose to move into planning healthcare events full-time, I was more than happy to do so.  But my 20 year old self?  She’d be shocked, appalled, and probably more than a little let down.

I won’t give away the end of What Alice Forgot.  It’s got some twists and turns and in some ways, I was surprised by how completely unsurprising parts were – but isn’t that true to life?  I’d give this book two thumbs up and definitely recommend it for summer reading…but I’d also recommend you spend some time thinking on the questions posed above.  I’d love to hear your thoughts.

This week’s Five Minute Friday word is nothing, so here goes…well, nothing.