“I am gratitude for…”
a love story.
In second grade, my class had a weekly journaling assignment. Every Friday morning, we’d lift the tops of our miniature desks and pull out our pencils and composition notebooks, and for fifteen minutes or so, we’d spend time keeping a gratitude journal.
I can picture with perfect clarity my best friend’s dull-pencil cursive across the wide-ruled page: “I am gratitude for...I am gratitude for...I am gratitude for...” Kid grammar is the best, is it not?
I still recite this in my head sometimes whenever I am going through the motions of saying my many gratitudes aloud to myself in my head.
What I love about the counting of blessings is that it is its own warm up exercise. Many days, despite the piles and heaps of things I have to be grateful for, I don’t want to talk about that. I only want to think about what I don’t have, what isn’t right.
But, when I begin to count, even if begrudgingly, if I can continue for long enough, the ice invariably begins to melt. I can start to hear the dissonance of my complaining echoing off the walls of this inner hallowed space, where never in this lifetime will everything be right, but where “all things work together for the good of those who love Him”. (romans 8:28)
I don’t do this every day, like I “should”. But I am learning to live with what I am more than who I ought to be, while inviting the good giver of grace to bridge the gaps I will always leave. And he never says no.
So, with that — I am gratitude for this beautiful, healthy boy. I am gratitude for the freedoms I am afforded by Christ and also in this nation — Lord, have mercy on me to properly employ them, with liberty and justice for all. I am gratitude for the breath I am drawing, the beauty of this day, and the warm slippers on my feet. I am gratitude for the community that encircles me — how richly blessed I am to be in the company of others.
His love endures forever, thanks be to God. amen.
sending love to you this morning !
xo,
mal
the slow road to transformation
The road to transformation is as slow as I wish it were fast. It’s as arduous as I wish it were easy.
It’s painful at times, when I wish it never was.
It requires my attention, my participation, and the truth is...I’d rather sleep through it.
As I’ve ridden the wave of emotion this election week, I’ve met with this reality. The slow, dark underbelly of what it takes to change from one way of being into another, more magnificent way.
I’ve come face to face and toe to toe with my own deluded expectation of what transformation requires. I have to admit, I want it to be a clean, quick spritz that I can absorb as I head on my way, transformed.
But…this is not the way. Transformation cannot be applied, as I have been sorely made to remember this week.
Transformation is a water that must be waded into. For how long, you don’t know. Will it be cold, can you reach the bottom? Will you swim it? Float in it? Build a raft to navigate it? And when do you get to come back out, back home? Do you ever even come back…or does that miss the point? None of this is disclosed. All that is known, is that on the other side, from wherever and whenever it emerges, what was once unremarkable will become unspeakably beautiful.
So, it seems probably worth it.
I want transformation for our people, our nation. I want it so badly. And I need it so very much in my own stubborn heart.
Come, Holy Spirit, come.
prayer/poem: search me
Search me, O God, and know my heart!
Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting!
Psalm 139:23-24
Give me courage, Spirit of the Living God, to hold this mirror to my soul and to see what lies within, with the boldness of unfettered eyes.
My biases -- my racism, my prejudice, my posture of privilege. Lord, have mercy.
My patterns -- of thought, word, deed. Those that lead to flourishing, may their branches be pruned, their soil watered and enlivened to bring continual thriving. Those that lead to languishing -- may they be exposed for what they are, laid in sharp contrast to my eye, so that I can detect them and root them out. Deal with me kindly, and tenderly, Holy Spirit. May I receive with grace and discernment any revelations from you that may come from an encounter with another person.
The rich blessings of community, health, food that nourishes, a roof above my head and a soft, warm bed to take rest in, night after night -- may not one minute pass where these delights are dispelled as commonplace!
I open my heart, my hands, my eyes -- to see you, and thereby me, more fully in your luminosity.
Amen + amen.
Current Fave Arie Things
Friday’s pizza retrieval from our most fave, Antico.
I’ve gotten away from writing in the baby journal I made for Arie, as I suspected I might, but I have managed to sporadically jot down some of my current favorite things about him in my notes on my phone. It feels important to me to do this because he is changing all the time…in fact, this practice has helped me to have an even greater awareness of how rapid the change is. I have a hard time remembering all the little details about what was normal for him as little as six months ago, so I take notes.
I’m sharing a short list of those latest things for those of you who like to keep up on this little guy and his many things !
His growing sentences and use of the first person, e.g. “I climb up!” “I make a dinosaur!” “I eat a popsicle!”. He’s also started to say “um” and then pause before answering a question. e.g. “How ya doin’, Arie?” “um…I’m good!”
The way he says “yeeeahhh” to any question you ask him ever (except for ‘Arie do you need a new diaper’…that’s almost always no)
Today he said the word “regular” (to differentiate between the “healthy” “goldfish” crackers I bought for him and the standard goldfish crackers John bought for him) and it made me want to melt of cuteness. I will add that John was in the room lobbying for himself and clearly, he won. Side note: why oh why are those TJ’s crackers available for purchase on Amazon?!
His very deep and very genuine love for dinosaurs and screwdrivers.
The fact that he has a new found love for yogurt and that he first was calling it “sugar” before moving on to calling it “lowgurt".
The way he kind of sort of attempts mask-wearing now.
Speaking of mask-wearing, I love that whenever we are out he insists on briefly pulling mine off my face to confirm that it is, in fact, still me.
My hope in sharing this list with you is that you can experience some of the magic I get to experience every day with him. It is not lost on me that to be in this phase of parenting during this pandemic has the very real upside of wonder, joy, silliness, and levity being infused into every day, because that’s just who he is right now.
If you have kids, have you made a point to document what you can of their days? If so, what motivates you to do so, and how have you done it? I’d love to know!
xo, mal
the stress is real
I woke up this morning feeling like I could cut the stress hanging all around me with a butter knife. All I did was get up to make coffee, and there it was, awaiting me.
I had to stop and sit down and close my eyes and breathe and pray — I just felt like I was churning and nothing had even happened yet. But I guess that’s kind of normal now, because it’s all…so, so much. Too much.
I was sitting there, waiting for peace to come, and then came to mind this thought: we are living in a time when can’t so much as breathe freely.
Have you thought about this?
To exhale into open air is risky. In some places forbidden, or at least frowned upon. For some, tragically, the once-simple act of taking a breath became a trial through which they could not, would not, pass.
Typically, breathing is something you don’t have to monitor as you go through your day. Like blinking. I am convinced that something happens to us psychologically, maybe even chemically, when we have to override an autopilot system and operate it manually. I’m no neuroscientist…just observing.
In some ways, it’s relieving to my own nervous system to have this realization. I can now say to myself, “of course you’re stressed! You can’t even so much as breathe freely in the world right now...that’s not normal.” (side note: I’ve begun employing Brene Brown’s FFT/TFT paradigm to more things than it is applicable, because it is helping me to make sense of so much right now.)
I tell myself, it’s normal to struggle with not being able to breathe freely in the world. I reality check it: if taken out of context, would this be a reasonable thing to expect of anyone, especially for seven continuous months with an indefinite projection? No! Never! And to put it into perspective, this is the first time you’ve ever had to do this. This is not going to be forever...so I think, maybe I can look for what good can come of it while it is true.
I can’t help but connect the dots between this new sort of breath awareness (can I call it that?) and the tremendous benefits to the body, mind, and spirit of conscientious breathing. If you have ever practiced mindful breathing or yoga or mediation with any success or regularity, you know. Wearing a mask is not the same thing, of course, but I can’t help but see the link and wonder if this moment is some kind of invitation.
Is there some intention in keeping our breath close enough to taste, smell, touch? To bring it right beneath our noses so that as we hurry about our days, there’s a better chance we might become aware of the incredible gift it is just to breathe?
I think it’s possible...even likely. What do you think?
We met a woman on the sidewalk yesterday, wearing her mask and sunglasses simultaneously. She was addressing Arie, who looked confused, when suddenly she removed her sunglasses and said, “I know I look so silly.” He brightened at being able to see her eyes. She turned to me: “I hate these things” she said, patting her mask. Then she added, “but I like life!”
So, in the event that you need to hear this as much as I did, let me say to you: you can’t even so much as breathe freely right now...of course you’re stressed.
We all feel the undercurrent of stress these days -- it would be odd not to. As Viktor Frankl said, "an abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behavior." My hope for you is that you find more ways to name your own experience with precision, and to see yourself in it as you are -- worthy of love and compassion and kindness.
xo, mal
dreaming at midnight
I am all worked up right now thinking about the dreams I have, that I cannot actualize today, or perhaps ever, but I cannot not pursue.
And so the day went.
Distracted, dissatisfied...I will not despair, because I am too sure of the goodness that encircles me. It hugs me so tightly that I could not doubt it, not for longer than a short moment.
Still, I look for ways to get after what I want. Do I rush ahead, out of step, out of time? Or do I follow the true north, the effects of its gravity strongly grasping my heart, pulling it on, it going first, leading the rest of me.
This is how I want to be...led by the heart, tugged ahead, ready or not.
I want to live out these dreams for myself. And yet, I also want to live the dreams of my maker, they being doubtlessly grander than my own; the trial of trust produces a sweet harvest that savors of not running amok at my own hand.
It seems to be an unknowable difference, my plans and his.
They are two sides of the same mountain, leading to this sharply pitched peak which I now inch across. It seems not worth the risk, to slip off one side and miss the destination, just to determine the different paths of arrival.
It does not so much matter which side I came up. All that matters now, is that I keep moving ahead. Trust is my anchor, and it’s what’s holding me up.
perspective, brought to you by the enneagram
a photo of some shelves in our home-for-now. the reason that top-left shelf is empty, if you are the kind who may wonder, is that I just recently finally put away a Christmas decoration that was being housed there. :)
Hello, friend!
I want to talk with you about the enneagram…specifically, my experience with this ancient tool. But first, I want to be super clear in saying that my hope for this space is not to only + always talk about me.
I do intend to use this space to work out in writing what is true about the world as I understand it through my experiences, as they are the only ones I can speak to. In those instances my writing will be a form of autobiography. But just so you know, I’m not aiming to do only that.
Just as in life, as we get to know each other better, it’ll feel less like I’m relaying a series of facts about myself and more like I’m sharing my thoughts because I want to contribute to the larger conversation and to connect meaningfully with you.
But right now, we’re still in the early stages of this relationship, so we must stick to the facts and build some context.
So…the Enneagram. Either you can’t get enough of it or can barely stand to hear the word uttered. It’s a bit polarizing, but I would posit that that’s an indicator of it’s deep, hidden value.
My first encounter with it was when I was sixteen, and I mistyped twice (for over twelve years!) before discovering at long last my true home in…the nine space!
Nines, they say, sit atop the Enneagram, and thus have the best view of all other numbers, meaning that we can see the world your way. We can see it everyone’s way, but sometimes we have a hard time seeing it our way. I’ve learned that I can’t help but see the world from a vast range of perspectives.
This has a lot of benefits, of course, but in every strength, there is also a weakness. I am telling you all of this because it directly relates to my recent discovery that I have been afraid of using my voice.
Working to understand myself using the lens of the Enneagram has helped me to realize that I will very often talk myself out of making decisions or forming opinions because there are too many competing angles to take. And the highest goal for nines, broadly speaking, is unity. (If you wanna get into subtypes, I am a one-to-one subtype, which in part means the worst possible thing that can happen, in my mind, is disconnection. So whenever I think about speaking my mind, these are the thoughts that naturally begin to formulate: What if this person disagrees with me and there’s a disconnect? What if I say something she can’t relate to, and we become separated by it? What if I unknowingly alienate someone and cut them off!? Separation…!! Abort, abort!) The easiest recourse, and the habitual result of all of that is to do nothing, say nothing, move towards nothing. And after a while...well, it’s a lot of nothing.
Lately, I am feeling strongly compelled to turn from the nothing that compounds from not deciding, not doing, not speaking up and using the voice that I have, and to use it for good.
I have always felt like a writer. What I mean is, I have always best been able to express myself in words. And I keep feeling this tug to write things down…I’m not even sure why yet, or how best to do it…but instead of waiting to figure it all out and then do it, I’m just going for it. So far, I really prefer this option to the alternative…nothing.
If you know the enneagram, how does all of this land with you? What number do you most identify with? Have you found it to be a helpful tool for self-knowledge?
xo, mal
time for a change
hey friends.
it’s time for a change. I realized something recently.
I should say, I have been realizing this: I have been living in fear.
Fear of speaking loudly enough to be heard. I’m not a shouter (and I have no plans of becoming one) But, I do know for certain that I was not given a voice only to mute it, but to use it for good…to offer a kind word. To seek justice, and diminish oppression. To plant seeds of hope, and watch patiently as they flourish and grow.
So, I’m here to do that now. I’m not entirely sure what that means yet, but I plan on finding out. Stick with me if you’re up for an experiment.
xo, mal
