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Pregnant

I woke up with a slight hangover this morning.

It wasn’t an alarm clock, 'spring-out-of-bed' morning which a reasonable person should pursue for Mondays. I spent last night sitting with good friends on a rooftop deck overlooking Grand Rapids. We pulled the last moments out of a beautiful spring weekend, pretending today wasn’t going to happen. On my way over I nabbed the remaining slices from Nantucket Pizza and a bottle of Argetinian Clos de Los Siete. Everyone was tired after a trip to the beach, so a few of us worked from our laptops tossing out a few ocassional comments. After sunset, we went downstairs and threw together random half-magarita tequila drinks with whatever we could find, discussing everything and nothing. Work, girls, shoes, weddings, proper proportions between Mexican beers and hot sauce. 

But today, waking up with a slight headache that only tequila offers me, I like the feeling of moving a bit slower. On days like this I am not riddled with thoughts of ‘things I must accomplish today or my business will fail and I'll join the masses of homeless people in Grand Rapids before moving under the Wealthy Street bridge to die.’ Owning your own business has the capacity to bring on such feelings. While I admit this slight hangover is not the best thing for my body, it seems to do well for slowing down my mind. I feel guilty telling you this, with no way to prove it's results in my life, sans the amount of work I’ve accomplished this morning. 

I wandered into my office at about 7:30 and stumbled across The War of Art, a book I've been reading for the millionth time in preparation for a meeting with it's author in the next few weeks. I finished the last third, thinking through it's genius and trying to figure out questions to ask it's creator to make me sound smart. I showered and shaved and threw on a pair of orange capris. It's hot these days. The temperature says 77, but I'm already feeling sticky. 

As I was lazily getting ready this morning, I was talking to my dear sister. If you aren’t aware, my little sister Heather and her husband Michael, are pregnant. She was preparing for an ultrasound by filling her bladder with water (which I guess is a thing) and worrying if she could make it to the hospital without peeing her pants. I could tell this was an exciting morning for them. They will soon return home with a grainy, alien, black-and-white sonogram photo that Heather promised not to post as her facebook profile photo. Each of them have new jobs they love, a new yellow house, and new plants on the back deck ready to begin a new life in the yard. I feel so happy for them.

While working, waiting to see evidence of my alien neice / nephew, I realized I'm pregnant as well. As hope is flooding my life, as Spring has sprung following a prolonged tough winter, as I meet my deadlines on giant projects, as people’s white bodies start to nervously shed articles of clothing, as dresses shorten and guys perform last second push ups before trips to the beach, I feel alive again. I feel healthy. Work is stable. Life is stable. I see a new future slowly making itself visible as I bend around this long gradual corner of life. And while I don’t know the details, I feel pregnant with good things.

I am happy and it’s been a long time coming.

Meanwhile, In the Woods...

The walk was about a half mile. There were a few traces of footprints before me, but they were at least one or two snowfalls old. The ground beneath me was crisp as I snapped through the ice with each step. Without much embarrassment I can say I cry on my walk out to the cabin, named 'The Hut'. I could physically feel the worries of Grand Rapids and smog of Los Angeles (both actual and people-oriented) falling off my back, as a familiar, yet overwhelming peace pulls me deeper into the forest.

I know the path through the woods. Take a hard right at the old barn. Slight left in the clearing. Slight right back into the trees and follow the path. In the clearing, I look over what remains of the labyrinth, a small portion of grass cut in a giant circle used in monastic traditions to work through issues, and see nine or ten deer having an afternoon snack. We both pause and look each other over. They determine I’m no threat and munch on. By the time I arrive at my twenty by fifteen foot home for a long weekend, I already feel new, in the middle of nowhere, completely alone in the best way possible.

Beige Expectations - Written for The Podium

Recently, the The Podium asked me to write an article regarding Story and it's impact on my life. I figured I would also place it here on my blog. Last year I wrote a chapter in a book published by Moody, called Inciting Incidents. If you're interested you can purchase that book here. Enjoy!

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I was a “Goonies” kid. If you aren’t familiar, it means that when I was young, my bike represented my entire existence: my independence, freedom and social status. At nine years old, it was urgent my parents’ ears finally heard my complaints that I had outgrown my faithful red mountain bike. I was surprised to hear my dad propose that he wanted to build me a new bike, because, you see, my father is a handyman and I am not. This was determined very early in life when I was continually dragged to the garage as an unwilling apprentice with the single task of searching for random tools as needed. The effects of this torture are long-lasting, and I still suffer bodily twitches each time I enter Home Depot.

At this suggestion, I recalled several previous collaborations: the crafting of a model U.S.S Kitty Hawk, the second-grade log-cabin made from reeds discovered by a local creek, several winning pinewood derby cars and a DC Talk father/son remix we performed one Sunday night at church. (Long story, don’t ask.) Based on these past successful partnerships, I felt positive my dad wasn’t going to let me down. A custom bike built by my flesh and blood, the handyman, would only increase my Goonie status.

But as to be expected from any working father with four kids, his intentions were probably a little too grandiose for the time available.

Pick Up The Phone, Diane!!!

I spent this morning listening to the Diane Rehm show on NPR and they were speaking about the Millennial Generation. I get so worked up when this conversation starts and I realize how much I care about this discussion. After attempting to call about 40 times, I never managed to get through. Ah well... 

As a pioneering member of the Millennials at 31 years old (born in '81), I feel so much information is misunderstood. People are attempting to define this generation while they are in their (rather prolonged) youth, but they are not taking into account what this could potentially mean for their future, which seems to be why analyzing generations would be a useful tool. 

For example: 

A recent study called The Truth About Youth by the Mccann Worldwide Group says the three most important issues to the Millennials are: Social Justice, Authenticity and Community. I whole heartedly agree with this analysis (mainly because they have the numbers to back it up) but also because of my own background in relation to my past, present and future desires as a member of this generation.

So many of the groups/books/sites are dealing with these three issues based on the 'current' scenario, not taking into account the future of these three issues. If we were to take the 'intial issues' of the baby boomers or to the Gen X'ers, we would see how these concepts nearly polarized as the generation developed. I call this "First Date Syndrome". When you begin to date someone, you are focused on the initial things you fall in love with, which later tend to annoy the crap out of you: "I love his/her laugh. I love how social he/she is. I love his/her desire for adventure."

As any married person knows, these are typically the exact issues we later come to hate: "Your laugh annoys me, Can't we just stay at home!, We can't afford another vacation!" etc... So, 20-30 years down the road, how will these 'first date' impressions of our generation affect us, the economy and our families?

While there are MANY pros to discuss in relatoinship to the The Truth About Youth, there are issues that, as far as I can tell, no one is discussing. For example:

Social Justice: In an attempt to change the world in our twenties, we'll feel great about ourselves, until we realize we aren't building actual skills companies are looking for. So we'll try to start our own businesses and, for the most part, fail. When we hit our thirties, we'll figure out that in order to have a family, we need real jobs, real homes, and actual skills. We won't have them. I predict the mid-life crisis for a Millennial will start to hit about 32-35 years old where they will give up their Peter Pan dreams and start applying to State Farm Insurance or Citigroup.

I believe this also provides evidence for the Hipster theory. When young people, either subconsciously or consciously, realize their inability to "change the world", their lack of overall purpose and desire to move on reveals they have little to no skill to offer to a typical job. In order to protect themselves, instead of learning skills, they return to, and glamorize, basic manual jobs. i.e. Butchers, Bakers, CandleStick makers. I even have the these same thoughts myself! There is absolutely nothing wrong with these jobs, but you'll see they are in direct opposition to the ideal jobs these groups/books/sites are predicting the Millennial generation will offer the world. (See: Portland.)

Authenticity: We are in awe of how Authentic our generation is. However, what is actually happening is that we are developing specific channels of authenticity. We 'share' our lives via facebook, twitter, but we are only sharing the good parts. We are completely skipping over the #Filterless portions of our lives which is leading each of us to a dual-personality disorder. Over time we will develop two distinct personalities: "on-line" and "off-line". No one is actually discussing this even though we all admit it's true. The most impactful voices on the internet today are those willing to call this out and truly admit their own flaws through a true authentic voice. 

Community:  The world is taken aback by how connected this generation is, yet the statistics show we are the lonliest generation on the planet. We want strong families and to raise children. Yet, both due to our economy and the desires of individual millennials, studies don't support this as truth. Only 20% of us are married in our twenties as oposed to the baby boomers who were at 60% in their twenties. I'm not suggesting this is necessarily a good or bad thing depending on your view of marriage or what happened to you baby boomer parents. PLUS, I'm choosing not to make too large of a statement on this concept due to my personal circumstances.

Here's a hint though: It seems successful families are built on emotional selflessness, communication and financial sacrifice. The Millennial generation is generally known for and spoken of as being elitist, self-oriented (long story to support this), and lonely. This simply doesn't add up. You really think our generation is going to 'save the family'? Married couples in the Millennial generation are just about to hit the 7-year wall. I can only pray they don't meet the same end I did. But, if we can count on historical generations to predict the future of generations... things are not looking good.

I am remarkably proud of my generation. I feel I can truly see the issues we are dealing with; both the pros and the cons, and I feel we need to look through a different filter at what 'success' means to this generation from outside the lenses of our parents and professors. We cannot judge the future using the same economic and social measurements as those who existed before the digital revolution (internet), in the same way as the people who judged the generation following the industrial revolution (early 1900's - 1920's).

It's true, The times are a changin', but let's make sure we're measuring these changes and predicting for their futures in accurate ways. 

Sorry for my rant. But Diane... you gotta pick up the phone. 

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Other rants for other posts: school debt, elitism vs. expectations, moving back in with mom and dad, start-up companies, etc...

 

Dallas, Texas

Matthew Sleeth, a friend, ER doc, and environmentalist with an amazingly bizarre background story, recently pointed out to me that on typical stress level tests, I'm in the 'red zone'. Now, I know that's good if you're a football team, but as a human being, this means the level of stress I'm under is, well, remarkable. I don't know what the actual order of stressing events is, but divorce, life-threatening disease, daily seizures, financial struggles, new business, loss of my 'home' environment, and, oh, toss in the fact my cat fell over dead for absolutely no reason, has provided for an eventful 2012. (Semi-hoping the Mayans were right.)

It's easy to pretend life isn't really like that, to sweep it all under the rug and come up with a nice response for the all-to-common 'How's it goin'?' inquiry. Matthew reminded me it's okay to ask for help. I agreed and told him I've been seeing a counselor, but he suggested that, in certain times, it's ok to admit you are in need of 'remarkable' levels of help.

Tomorrow, I'm going to Dallas for a week. Now, as a three on the Enneagram (long story), a personality test that has been so helpful, I've aware my greatest fear is to be 'found out', to be see as worthless when people realize I'm not authentic. So it's a constant battle I face not to 'ever-so-slightly' bend the truth to make myself look a little more put together, which makes my response to this question rather delicate.

"So, what takes you to Dallas?"

"Business."

It's my typical response because it's nearly always the case, but not this time. But when I'm asked, I can't avoid that moment of panic with the barrage of internal questions like, "Don't tell them! They'll know you're broken! Don't let them see you in pain! Don't let them know you don't have all of the right answers!"

I'm not going to Dallas for business. I'm going for, essentially, a week of intense emotional and spiritual rehab. This may or may not seem like a big deal to you, but I'm choosing to tell you this because I recognized my inner desire NOT to tell you.

All Types of Friction

My, oh my.

Where to begin. The struggle I face as I sit down to write, is that so much has happened. Everything has changed. Where I was over a year ago is so different from where I sit today. To catch you up seems nearly pointless. And to a degree, I feel no need to share any of my experience with you, other than the fact that I simply want to. Maybe I need to. If you are reading this, then you’ve been a part of this 3+ year journey and to hide my current scenario from you would essentially be me glossing over the largest tragedy of my life.

No Easy Way to Say...

(Copied from Facebook Posting)

Yesterday I learned Amy publicly shared we've been separated over the past year. 

This separation has made it a very difficult year for both of us. It was my prayer, along with family and friends, that our marriage would be reconciled, but it was not, as the divorce was recently finalized.

I decided to let Amy make the announcement first, since it was her decision to end the marriage. But Amy and I both agree that God can, and will, create good from this broken relationship.

To those who have been following Amy's Photography and/or our ongoing battle with cancer, I cannot thank you enough for your continued support and prayers.