Just Breathe

I had two big meetings today. And when I say "big," I mean BIG.

No, they weren't the most important meetings ever. No, they didnt have the most important people in attendance. No, I wasnt about to tilt the world on it's axis.

However, they were meetings that I had been preparing for for weeks. I had combed through data and created spreadsheets and powerpoints and had thought and rethought (and rethought) what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it, so that my point got across. It was a project that I had poured my heart into.

I think that's one of my "problems." I pour myself into things. I care about them. I fight for them. I get passionate about them. This is especially true at work. And recently I felt myself getting my back up in meetings. Because people didnt see the work I was doing, or because they didnt understand the importance, or because they werent putting in as much effort and time as I was. And let me be the first to admit-- getting your back up is the first way to ensure no one listens to you.

Knowing this about myself, 15 minutes before my meeting, I found an empty room.

And I breathed.
And breathed some more.
And recited the 7 dwarves and did some mental math (engages intellect rather than emotion- try it!).
And breathed some more.

And my meetings went exceptionally well. Better than I could have hoped.
Sometimes, we need to slow down. To recenter. To just breathe.

Going Dark and Zeta Love

I am uber connected.

I have a phone, (three) computer(s), facebook, 4 email addresses, Facetime, a twitter feed, a LinkedIn site, an Instagram, and a blog. I have apps that allow me to play games with friends and family far away (Boggle anyone?). When I forget my phone at home, I feel naked. It is almost never more than 2 feet away from me. And. I. Check. It. Obsessively.

I have never actually calculated the amount of time I spend looking at my phone, or my computer, or my social media sites... but I guarantee it would make me sick to my stomach if I actually did. As I considered the concept of "making time" last week, I realized that sometimes you have to give things up in order to make extra space. Painful thought, I know.

With that in mind, I walked into Friday afternoon knowing that it was time for a media fast. From Friday evening until Sunday morning, I stayed off my phone. Off my computer. Off my social media sites. And I made time to look at something other than a screen.

It was terrifying. And glorious.

It reminded me that the world still spins without me knowing what everyone I know was eating for dinner. More importantly, it reminded me that the world still spins without me updating you all on my every thought (quippy and brilliant, though they may be). It reminded me that being connected is good-- connected to people, or the outdoors, or to a good night's sleep. It reminded me to look beyond my own little world and facebook friends. To think without googling. To look out the window for the weather instead of an app. To experience. Going dark can shed a lot of light.

So what about the rest of my weekend? Sunday, I did that Jesus thing at church and helped with our Lunch with the Pastor event. By 4pm, I was home and the worst headache of my life was setting in. You know the kind. Your head feels like it could break into pieces with the slightest touch. Yet, ironically, you are absolutely convinced there is an entire miniature drum line beating on the inside of your skull. That kind of headache.

There was nothing I wanted more than to turn off every light and crawl straight into my bed. And I almost did. Until I remembered, I had a ZTA chapter meeting. And a meeting afterward. And it was 30 minutes away. In the cold. And I wouldn't be home until 10pm. AND I had to dress up. *sigh* For a brief moment, I considered calling in sick, which would have been totally legit, but then I remembered something my pastor had said just that afternoon: "Two things in life that define us are our relationships and our commitments." Dang.

I had committed to attend; I had committed my time to these women. I had committed my focus and attention and presence. Buck up, Stallard, and put on your high heels.

Maybe that's not an example of "making" time, but it sure was a choice on how to use my time. Sometimes doing the right thing with our time requires some sacrifice. I chose to follow through on my commitments, to build trust and confidence in my relationships, rather than crawling into bed. Drum line and all, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Shock and Awe

I often jokingly say, "I don't like people."

This, of course, isn't true. I like people just fine. I even love a lot of them. What I really mean is that I don't generally prefer to be around them in large groups. As an introvert, being around people is exhausting for me. I have to be "on" most of the time. I have to think about what I am wearing, what I am saying, what my facial expression is conveying, if I am talking too fast, or reacting too slow. It's seriously exhausting for me... even when it is for "fun."

Add to that, I am a homebody. I like my books and my dog and making dinner at home. I like throwing on pajamas and my hair in a ponytail and having the choice whether I want to dance around my kitchen or sit in the silence. I like not having to go back out once I am in, and I sure as heck cant think of anything fun about driving far away to sit in a loud public place around a bunch of strangers who make me feel awkward or bored. Being in public, or around people I don't know, often intimidates me or makes me insecure to the point of embarrassment.

With that in mind, two of my co-workers (extroverts, I might add) have decided I need a social life. For months (and I do mean months) they have been trying to get me "out." At first, it was blatant attempts to drag me to a happy hour, then it was more covert invitations to "grab dinner." I have always, always declined. Because, you know, my shoes hurt, or my dog is waiting, or I was having a bad hair day, or I have to work for a couple more hours, or the straight up "I don't think so, guys."

So today, when one of them jokingly noted that we had a rough week and we should grab a drink after hours, my brain was thinking "no way, Jose" but somehow, my lips said "Ok"-- shocking us all. Picture it. "Ok" pops out of my mouth and 3 jaws hit the floor. Shock and awe have knocked the wind out of each of us (oh crap, did I just say YES?!?) Within moments, before I could back pedal, the girls were packing their purses and carting me off to the nearest restaurant for a lovely pink drink and some bar-worthy appetizers.

And here's the thing... it wasn't so bad. In fact, it was pretty great.We laughed. We ate. We complained about men. We enjoyed some music. We bonded.

Sometimes, we have to push out of our comfort zones. We have to be our version of adventurous. We have to say yes when we want (so badly) to say no. We have to make time to build relationships, because we can't always fly solo. We have to try. Just a little bit.

And we might just find, it can be pretty great.

Call me Indiana Jones,
Amanda

Homer, You're A Genius!

"There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep." -Homer, The Odyssey

Wednesday Bed Time: 8:30pm.
Best. Idea. Ever.
Make time to sleep every once in a while, y'all.
I felt like a million bucks today.

Confessions

I didn't make time today. Not for anything constructive, or affiriming, or educational, or positive.

It was one of those days. You know the kind. It's raining, you can't find your keys, there are literally no parking spots, ALL of your meetings run late, and every. little. thing. annoys. you.

That was my day. I could go into the woes of smashed cell phones and ignorant clients and snappy co-workers and wet feet and, and...

So, I wallowed in my crummy attitude and I glared out the window with annoyance. I cursed the rain for making me cold and I blamed it all on something or someone. Even stomping through the door and pouring myself into my favorite sweatpants and hoodie didn't seem to make the slightest difference. Because they were static-y and not warm enough and the pockets felt funny.

You know, that kind of day. Sigh.

I'd like to sit here and justify it ("we all have days like that...") but the reality is, I didn't even try to turn my day around. Not once.

As I sat down to write this blog post tonight, I realized that I didn't want to "make time" today. For myself or for others. I didn't want to be thankful that the rain is preparing the ground for the new life of Spring. I didn't want to be joyful that I have a job (which I love, most days!). I didn't want to give a little grace to the people who had to be around my foul mood today, or to celebrate the fact that I have a fully repaired phone, at no cost to me. I just wanted to be grouchy.

Shame on me.

If there is anything that I know to be true, it is that we can control our attitude, and today I failed at that. I also know that this Lenten practice thing requires some discipline, and I failed at that, too. But... maybe most importantly, I know that we get more than once chance to get it right, even (maybe especially) when we stumble. Tomorrow, I'll try a little harder, and be grateful that I am not confined to my attitude of today.

Here's hoping your day was full of sunshine and lolipops, but if it wasn't, I hope you'll join me in trying harder tomorrow.

Pressing forward,
Amanda

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness

Happy President's Day, Friends.

For some of us, today was a holiday. A three-day weekend. An extra day to sleep in (which I did), or nap (which I also did), or catch up on things (which I sort of did- if catching up on the DVR counts).

But for the most part, I doubt many of us thought about the significance of today. As part of my "making time" practice, I spent some time today researching President's Day and why we celebrate it.

I read up on George Washington (the celebration of his birthday is the original purpose behind President's Day, btw) and remembered all the things I had learned about him in school, and on my visits to Williamsburg and Mount Vernon. I thought of the history papers I wrote on him in elementary school, and the way he helped to change our country. I pondered the Declaration of Independence. Our Constitution. Our liberties. Our patriotism.

Then, I thought about countries I have visited where the leadership is not like ours. Countries in Africa that are politically unstable and unsafe for the people. Countries in Europe that have a history of corrupt dictatorships and oppressive governments.  Islands and territories that have spent a significant portion of their history dealing with the aftermath of colonization.

Whatever your political differences may be, whatever party you vote with, whatever color you lean toward... we are quite blessed to live in a country like America. On this day, this President's Day, I am remembering and celebrating that we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

Life. Liberty. Happiness.
If only all the world were granted those same rights.

The Innkeeper

I don't really have anything profound to say tonight.

Maybe because I am losing my creative edge, but I suspect it is mostly because I am distracted.

You see, today, I made time to open my home. To my best friends and sisters, Amy and Ashley. To their husbands, Darren and Adam. To their baby, Mason. To their dog, Carson.

I cleaned and cooked and prepped breakfast options for tomorrow morning. I washed a billion sheets and towels. I baked brownies so the house would smell homey. I picked up everything at little boy level, also known as baby proofing. I went to Target (twice) and the grocery.

And I could not be happier.

Family. Friends. Home.
I am not sure there's much in the world that's more worthy of my time. And my love.

My cup runneth over,
Amanda

Mopping Up

Happy Valentine's Day, friends. I hope today brought you the opportunity to give and receive acts of love from family and friends.

I should probably tell you that this practice of "making time" can be rather exhausting. It requires intention, premeditation, care, concern, patience. No wonder so many of us push things to the back burner with the thought that we dont have time for it. I get tired just thinking about it!

Today, I built in time to call one of my grandmothers. That was intentional.
I lost most of the use of my cell phone when it smashed to the ground, freeing even more of my time. That was not.

I bought a mop. That was intentional.
I also bought about a million dollars in cleaning supplies. That was not. Oops.

Today, for my Lenten practice, I decided to clean. Now... this may seem like a cheat. Anyone who knows me knows that I like to clean. Rather, I like things to be clean. In a wholly unnatural way. Think Monica Gellar clean. Also, most people who have been paying attention know that I have company coming into town tomorrow, which always sparks the deep-clean frenzy. Curtains get washed, baseboards get wiped down, you get the picture. So how is this a new practice? Well, today, I bought a mop.

I know that sounds weird. I have been living in my apartment going on 4 years. I clean up a couple times a week. How could I not have a mop? The truth is, they freak me out a little. Every time I have ever used a mop, I have wondered whether I am actually cleaning the floor, or if I am just sloshing dirty, germy water all over it. Is it REALLY clean, or does it just look clean? I could never tell. So, I just stopped buying them. Instead, I washed the (tiny) floor with disposable rags and some good elbow grease. As you can imagine, scrubbing on my hands and knees was neither something I had a desire to do, nor something I had time for. So, after a while, I began to think that sweeping (often) was sufficient enough. The floor was lacking dirt and dust and crumbs, so I was good.

But then, last night, something happened.
I walked into the kitchen. Wearing white socks.
It wasn't pretty.

See, for the last... well, um, a while, I was content to only clean what I could see on the little linoleum floor. And that worked. Mostly. But over time, things build up. A little grease here. A little sauce there. Maybe some sticky tea here. It had gotten worn over and dusted off and brushed away until I couldnt see it anymore, but it was still there; I never fully washed it away.

Sometimes our junk builds up, y'all. We have to make the decision to mop it away. And today I did.

Bleach that stuff out,
Amanda

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust

It is an important day of the year for me. Yes, because Duke is about to whoop up on the Tarheels. But, more importantly, because it is Ash Wednesday.

In my adult life, I have come to love and appreciate this church holiday; it is one that speaks to me in deep and profound ways. I was not able to attend a service today, so as part of my Lenten discipline, I decided to look back through some of my blog, journal, and church newsletter posts that have touched on this day, and this season. I spent time shifting my perspective and my mindset-- focusing not on the work I had to do or the house I had to clean or the Valentine candy I should have bought for friends, but on the start of a season that is always formative for me.

As I was reading, I came across this Lenten post I wrote while serving with a medical mission team in Kenya few years ago. My time in Africa was one of the most influential and deeply transformative times in my life, so I thought I would share, remembering today that we are dust, but rejoicing that that is not our whole story.

Ashes to Ashes,
Amanda


Monday, March 23, 2009

Friends,

It just before 6am and all is quiet in the Kenyan world. We are all awake and preparing to start a day of medical clinics in the more rural areas away from the hospital, praying that we will be able to offer some healing to the bodies and spirits of these children. Today the site is a little farther away and we must travel the bumpy roads by van... thus, our day is beginning early.

Have I mentioned before that Kenya is a dusty land? I am not certain that "dusty" is even the right word--the road dust is so deep and thick that it covers everything like a red blanket. It is the end of their dry season and the land is desperate with thirst. The rainy season should have begun about 2 weeks ago, and it is evident that the people, the animals, and the crops are suffering in the dry barrenness of this land.

As we drive or walk down the roads, we too become covered from head to toe in the grittiness of this dust, and must return home each night to scrub ourselves down in the showers (when there is water supply) as a way to remember what color our hair and skin actually are.

Ah, is this not the perfect picture of Lent? As we celebrate this season, many of us only remember the time of dust on Ash Wednesday. However, I wonder if we, too, are like the Kenyan landscape. Our hearts and souls and faith are dry and barren and so covered with grit that only water can wash us clean. As we look towards Easter in the next few weeks, this is a time for us to remember our dust. Remember that without God, we came from dust and to dust we shall return. It is a time to be reminded that we can become so covered in dirt that we do not remember what we look like underneath, so much so that we need a holy shower. The good news is that with the coming of Easter, we are able to remember our baptisms and the grace that washes us clean. I pray today that you are reminded of your dust... and your baptism that washes you clean.

We love you all and are praying for you often.

Remembering my baptism,
Amanda

The Time of My Life: Mardi Gras Confessionals

Y'all, I am blogging. On a blog I created three years ago. And haven't written on in two years. And it's not the apocalypse. Prepare yourselves.

Occasionally, over the last couple years, I have considered picking up this blog again, but really who has the time?! I was getting my feet wet in a new job (and probably over extending myself, let's be honest). I had started getting active in a new church. I was volunteering with some lovely college women. I was keeping up a home and a pup and long distance relationships with friends and family. There were births of nephews and a niece. A wedding. A funeral. Too many of life's hiccups to count... and somehow time just got away from me.

I catch myself saying that a lot. Time got away from me. There's not enough time in the day. Where did the time go? How has that much time passed? If only I had more time, I would...

Call my grandmas more. Finally mail out those thank you cards from Christmas (sorry y'all, they're coming!). Take a long walk. Pamper myself. Take a (real) vacation. Call and write my friends more. Go to the grocery more. Do laundry before it piled up. Take up yoga. Learn a new skill. Cook something. Volunteer more. Relax more. Laugh more. Enjoy more.

As Lent has been (quickly!) approaching, I've been considering the areas in my life that could use some intentional practice. Can you believe I actually even spent a little while wondering what type of practice I had time for? Talk about missing the point. Sheesh. As I thought and thought (and thought) on it, I began to consider how Jesus spent his time.

He worshipped. To the point that his parents accidentally left him behind at the synagogue. Oops.
He ate with a lot of people. He got to know them. He asked questions. And cared about their lives.
He prayed. Sometimes alone. Sometimes not.
He napped. Even on a boat, during a raging storm.
He served. Fishes and loaves and healings and foot washings come to mind.
He hung out with kids. And old people. And sick people. And prostitutes. And prisoners. Diverse, huh?
He taught. He rested. He gave. He made friends and he sought solitude.
He loved.

But nowhere in my Bible did it say that Jesus had too much on his plate, too much work to do, too many Jerusalem cruisers to shop for (I kid, I kid), to make time. For God. For Others. For Himself.

With that in mind, I am committing in writing (eek!) to spend the next 40 days making time. I'm fairly certain this will be my hardest Lenten practice yet (including the year I gave up Diet Mt Dew- which is pretty much my lifeblood), but it's time to make time. For God. For Others. For Myself.

And to make sure I do, y'all are going to hear about it. Every day during Lent, I am going to make time to do something I wouldn't otherwise have done that day, with the intention of strengthening my faith walk, my relationships, and my personal health and peace. So bear with me. It's going to be a rocky road. But it just might be the best time I've ever spent.

Happy Shrove Tuesday, friends!