On Compliments and Praise

Today I was reminded (a couple of times, actually) of a moment with my home teachers the spring after Paul died. (I think it was spring, I’m not sure really, that “widow-fog” is real for that first two years or so.) I was serving as a chorister in primary, and John and Jake were both primary teachers at the time. They saw I was a having kind of a rough day (more aloof than usual, caught up in my own thoughts, even a little teary) and already had a visit scheduled that afternoon after church. When they came to my little house, they asked how I was. I remember that I replied weakly, “Fine,” and then, after seeing their looks, “I will be fine, I know it. I will be okay, eventually, so I’m really okay now.” Like I was trying to reassure them (as I was constantly doing then to everyone) not to worry about me. And then Jake Wheadon said, “That’s great, and I’m glad you’re fine, but you know, it’d totally be okay if you were NOT fine. You are dealing with something really big and heavy and crappy and if you’re not okay, it wouldn’t make you any less awesome of a person just because you’re struggling. We would still like you and wouldn’t think any less of you because this is hard.” And I promptly broke down in tears--not because of the dark thoughts that had been plaguing me all day in my grief, but because the words he said were words I don’t recall ever hearing before, and words I desperately needed to hear then (and think about often since).

Of course we all know that everyone else is imperfect and blah blah blah but it’s so rare that we acknowledge and embrace so vocally that imperfection. Especially in the church, when we know we are commanded to “be ye perfect.” More than that, though, I have been very blessed throughout my life in a great many things. I’ve been a pretty quick study with a curious mind, have been told my whole life how good I am at this or that, which I know is better than being bullied, belittled, or condescended to. I’ve been asked more times than I can count, “Is there anything you can’t do?” or told how “strong” I’ve been or how “sweet” I am or have been pooh-poohed as simply being “modest” when I try to point out the many things I’m only mediocre or even incredibly bad at. It’s maddening, actually. Even thinking about it makes me shake a little with frustration.

Because however well-intentioned, however rooted in love these comments might have been, all the cumulative effect has been is to make me feel like I MUST be good at everything and stronger and smarter and braver than I really am, and must maintain the illusion that I am holding it all together, because if I don’t then people will think less of me/won’t like me/will be disappointed/whatever. I’m afraid to try things unless I know I’ll be good at them. The truth is, I’ve grown up into an exhausted and scared and frustrated person, especially when people compliment me or deny me the basic right of self-awareness. Because I know the truth about myself, and yes, sometimes I’m hard on myself or can be self-deprecating, but often I’m realistic in my intimate vision of who I really am. And clearly “they” aren’t. And if they did, the idea they unconsciously put out there is that they know me better than I know myself, or that only the people and things of worth are worth talking to/about. So I have two choices: be isolated further by my truth or try to live up to theirs. And it probably sounds ridiculous, and I know it could be so much worse, but sometimes praise is a spirit-killer, too. Sometimes the things we say to encourage the people we love end up doing a lot of damage and make them scared to try. I want to say to them sometimes:

Just let me be human. Let me acknowledge my vulnerabilities and weaknesses in front of you without you (in misguided kindness) trying to contradict me. I’m a little broken, and the faster I see you allowing for that and loving me anyway, the sooner I can let my walls down and the happier we both will be. If I say I’m overweight and trying to work on that, don’t tell me I’m not. I am. It’s only “bad” if you equate weight with worth. Same with prettiness. I know I’m not pretty, and I’m okay with that, because beautiful is not the same thing as worthy. I am terrible at some things, only average at a great many things, and some of my talents I do have to work REALLY hard for, and that’s all okay, isn’t it? Don’t try to make me feel better by invalidating the things I know about myself, because then I stop trusting you with all the other things, too. How about just saying, “I know. But I admire how hard you work at this,” or “I’m glad you can enjoy things you’re not so good at, at least,” or “How great is it that people have their whole lives--eternity even--to grow?” or just “I love you anyway,” and share the “realness” of your own life with me so I know I’m not alone? I’m not saying we excuse sin or indulge self-harm. How about we let each other be a little broken and tell each other, “It’s okay, I’m broken, too, you’re still important to me, I still like you, maybe even a little more now because I see all the things you’re not and that makes the things you ARE all the more remarkable to me.”

*Sigh.* If only.

I promise I will try to be better about this, too. I know our society has us constantly putting our best sides out there for all to see, and hiding anything that isn't Pinterest-perfect. I know, too, in our daily interactions, we try to be kind by ignoring or even outright denying the imperfection of others. When they say their chicken was a little dry, we tell them not to be so hard on themselves, they're great cooks and that it was delicious. When they share that they are struggling with their marriage or children, we reassure them that they are wonderful wives/mothers. We all do it. It's what we are trained and encouraged and expected to do. We are uncomfortable with anything else. But what if it is doing more harm than good? I'm not saying to walk around and point out other people's imperfections or to be unkind. If you know me, you know kindness is one of the MOST IMPORTANT things to me, and calling out other people unnecessarily is neither kind nor productive. I just think true kindness comes from a true understanding and pure love with no expectations and a focus on the other person's comfort instead of our own.

I Can't

Current mood (but at least it's a snow day and I get to revel in poetry and books and art and naps which is just what my soul needed today):

I Can’t

I can't do it anymore.

I can't lie to you and tell you that tests don't matter when

Everything we say and do depends on the score

And we track all the data

And every moment of your life is a test.

You don't get a participation trophy

And people are always watching but rarely helping

And you don't get unlimited time to reach your dreams

And a little stress is good for you

And what you do with the time limit matters

And pretending that it doesn't or that the world will just let you be

Is not what I want for you, either.

I can't have visions of a better world

And daydreams of the future with you and

Hope

That you bring every day with your

Pebbles in your pockets and your

Made-up words,

Your million wonderful questions

And your view of the world as so black and white

But not the people in it...

I can't let myself soar with you because

I am a grown-up

And I know

That most of those longings will never be

And I wonder if it's fair to you to pretend that they will

If we’ll both just be disappointed,

When I'm holding on to the balloons right along with you

But my feet still touch the ground

And I wonder how long I can keep the air pulling upward for you, just for you.

I can't tell you to be brave

But then run and hide from the world when the light goes out

I want you to feel empowered

But if he has a gun then go behind the bookshelf and be very quiet and still

In the dark and don’t cry,

Make sure you stay inside

Where it's safe.

Don't be a bystander,

And stand up to bullies

And make your strong voice echo from the mountaintops when you're a grown-up

And please be powerful and beautiful and smart and good as a grown-up,

Especially good,

But don't let the monsters come and eat you before you get there,

So for now let's just keep this between us

And be a little scared.

Wafraid

I started a creative writing club this year for motivated and talented young writers at my school. They're working weekly on novels, plays, and books of poetry to self-publish in April. I believe in practicing what I preach, in modeling, and in being a lifelong learner, never asking of my students anything I am unwilling to do myself. While I don't have the time to write a novel right now, I do occasionally feel big feelings that regular words just don't express enough, and I feel the urge to write down some poetic(ish) thoughts, so I figured, why not make a book of (rough, unedited, journal-like) poems to self-publish in April alongside the kids? I have three students who are my "editors" and who ask questions/give me feedback. Sometimes these poems can be quite personal and misunderstood by anyone else who reads them, like this one:

On Souls and Soulmates

(a poem for my beloved Paul on the third anniversary of his passing)

The ocean of memory, it ebbs and flows

And we zoom through space

And cells die and are reborn

And my heart keeps pumping

And I learn things about quarks and photons

And shadows

And the whole universe is singing its motion

Yet

You remain fixed in time and space and are impossible,

Impassable.

Ever a guide (though I am constantly

Lost)

I wander in the wilderness, maybe for forty years but I sure hope

Not (sorry).

I blew you three kisses as I left the garden, and

Three times “I love you” was engraved in rings, and

Three times the earth is moved around the sun.

Three times, so…

I guess you really mean it.

***

People reading that on Facebook at the time thought I was paying such a kind tribute to him, but they failed to see the depth of sadness and longing and anger and finality and giving-up-ness I really meant in it all. (That is my gift, I suppose...to wrap the brokenness up in smiley-faced wrapping paper with yellow bows and try to really mean it.)

However, sometimes, the words are QUITE easy to understand and are really just direct and simply put out there into the universe, like this one I absolutely needed to write tonight in the midst of overwhelming emotion over underwhelming and ordinary things:

Wafraid

I feel afraid about 97.2% of the time.

Not terrified, out of my wits, or shaking, but

(according to the thesaurus):

Worried.

Anxious.

Fearful.

Reluctant.

Alarmed.

Intimidated.

Disinclined.

So I guess I’m really “WAFRAID.”

I’m wafraid that words will fail me (though you’d think I’d be used to it by now).

I’m wafraid that I’ve been wrong all along about everything.

I’m wafraid that my best isn’t good enough

In labor,

In leisure,

In likings,

In love,

In life,

In life beyond life.

I’m wafraid that I’m leading others astray, however unintentional the wandering.

I’m wafraid that I’m unwantable and un-stay-put-able.

I’m wafraid that all my broken pieces can’t be put right again, even with gold.

I’m wafraid that I’m getting what I deserve.

I’m wafraid that someone will see...

Me.

Through me.

Past me.

Me as me was.

Me as me wants to be but never will.

Me looking at myself instead of Someone.

I’m wafraid that I’m actually magnificent light.

I’m wafraid that I’ll never learn how to turn it on.

I’m wafraid that that it might burn out too quickly.

I’m wafraid of the power of explosions.

I’m wafraid of a black hole.

I’m wafraid of feeling.

I’m wafraid of a heart past feeling.

I’m wafraid of answers I won’t accept, so I just stopped asking the questions.

I’m afraid that I’m afraid that I’m wafraid.

***

(Sometimes I write happy things, too. :) Stay tuned for more random insights into my soul in the months to come!

*DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be a great poet, or even a good poet, or even really a poet at all. That's why my book is entitled "Waxing Poetic(ish)". But it's good for me as a means of coping with life, or at least a nice distraction from it, so I'll probably continue for at least a little while longer. Please judge it kindly. I'm wafraid of you, too. :)

BEFORE Beginning Piano Lessons

My vibrant, sassy, sweet-as-can-be niece, as many of you know, has some special needs that make things like coordination a challenge. But she really wants (some days, anyway) to learn how to play the piano, so for her birthday I got her a little keyboard and some beginner piano books as well as offered to give her free lessons. NOTE: I'm NOT AT ALL a professional piano player or teacher. I took lessons for about 3 1/2 years as a teenager and I can accompany my church hymns and choirs but that's about it...but, thankfully, we live in the information age where we can access the collective knowledge of MANY people much more talented and creative than we are and learn/grow/share. ANYWAY. Caida expressed multiple times that she wants to learn piano. HOWEVER, because of her own unique needs (although many with children could probably relate to this), there is a LOT of ground to cover before actually beginning to learn about things like playing a recognizable tune. When she sings, she doesn't exactly have a sense of pitch or tone or beat or rhythms or ANYTHING that would help (but boy does she love it! And that's all that really matters to me anyway.)

Before songs, before dynamics and tempos, before reading music or studying notation flashcards, before SCALES even, there are some basic skills that little or uncoordinated bodies need to have in order for everything else to make sense. We sort of take these things for granted, but you really CAN'T! Especially when teaching a BEFORE BEGINNER about these things, they need to have a sense of what music and pitch even are, and they also have to have the strength and start developing the hand-eye coordination to move individual fingers. When I was 12, I started piano lessons and learned to "warm up" and improve my dexterity through scales, but that doesn't work when the basics for even scales aren't there!

So, for our first lesson, Caida and I mostly put some music note stickers on her keyboard and played some finger games for the first half. (NOTE: a lot of my ideas came from the internet and from the amazing little WunderKeys piano series, including a LOT of what I'm about to share. If you need a "beginning piano" book for little hands, I highly recommend this one--they have a preschool and a primer series, depending on the age of your little.) I bought some super-cheap gloves from Walmart and used a Sharpie to write down numbers on each of the fingers. If you're going to do this and you don't play piano yourself, just a note that you'll want to make sure both thumbs are 1 and both pinkies are 5. It matters, because that's how fingering is written in every beginner piano book as students learn to move their fingers around and tickle those ivories!

The MOST important thing in all of this is that children learn to control individual fingers at will, mostly independent of the ones around them. They need finger strength, dexterity, and hand-eye coordination to be able to even play scales, let alone anything else worthwhile. :) Here are a few ideas I found and that we tried (new to us, so it was rocky at first, but with practice we'll both improve!):

STRETCHY SPIDER:

Have the hand curved/relaxed, fingers touching the surface of a table, palms down. This is your "spider," taking it nice and easy. When you call out a number (or, when they are more advanced, multiple numbers), have them stretch that finger up as high as they can without moving the other fingers around it (*too* much, anyway). Let that spider stretch his/her legs out!

JELLYFISH:
To build some strength in those little fingers, I put an elastic hairband around her fingers and (after showing her a video of jellyfish, because she didn't know what they were!) had her move her hand along like a jellyfish moving. Here's a video of that:

SILLY POEMS:

The Wunderkeys series I mentioned before has several little poems/motion activities for those fingers to play. We didn't get to any of these today (half an hour goes fast!) but...there is some good stuff out there if you're willing to search for it.

DON'T WAKE MR. POINTER:

Place your hand so that your thumb is on middle C and your fingers rest naturally on up through so your pinky is on G. (It's not natural OR comfortable for little hands, by the way...another thing we take for granted as adults!) "Mr. Pointer" is your forefinger, and "he" is sleeping...so your other fingers are tiptoeing around quietly trying not to wake him! You can start by just tapping the key three times with the thumb JUST quietly enough to make a sound, then skipping "Mr. Pointer" and tapping the E 3 times with your middle finger, etc., but that got old after one round for Miss ADD so we started randomizing it--slowly at first, and then faster and faster until we were in giggles and had to move on. :)

We also practiced, ON THE PIANO, just playing two different notes with fingers 1 & 2, then 1-2-3, back and forth, which was surprisingly hard. So we'll have to keep working on that, too.  A LOT. Before we can get to scales, we have to master 1-2-3. :)

There are some other great ideas here and here if you want more finger exercises, but by this point Caida was bored so we moved on to developing a sense of pitch! I made up some cards with little roller coasters on them. The idea is that you follow the roller coaster cart along the track, and as the track goes higher or lower, so should the pitch. I only picked a few of the easier cards for this first lesson, and I did each card 3 times:

(1) I showed her an example of doing this VOCALLY, making my finger follow along the track and getting higher or lower, as shown. (It doesn't matter at which note you start, but it DOES matter that the higher points on the track are at a higher pitch and vice versa.)

(2) I had her do the same thing VOCALLY along with me. If she made a mistake, I did point it out and we tried again, since that's the whole point of this exercise. :)

(3) We did the same thing on the piano. She loved that, because even though she wasn't making any intelligible "music," she was able to translate the concept to an actual keyboard and realize that the higher she went on the piano, the higher the notes sounded!

After a couple of roller coaster cards, I spent about 3 minutes playing two random notes for her and having her tell me (without looking) if the note got higher or lower the second time. Depending on your child, this may be a challenge, but stick with it! Start with a BIG range and then close the gap later on. (This was SUPER HARD for Caida, even when I did notes several octaves apart, so we'll be working on that some more for SURE soon.)

FINALLY, because the whole reason any kid wants to play the piano is to be able to show off to their friends/family, it's important to teach them at least PART of an actual, recognizable song. (Again, depending on the readiness level of your child, that might look very different to each of you. If you don't know where to begin, use whatever book you have or pick one of their favorite songs and Google a "simplified" version, and then teach them a couple of measures each lesson for a month until they have it!) Here is Caida playing part of Mary Had a Little Lamb (with prompts):

Her "homework" was a set of "musical spelling" cards. She had to read the word out loud to her mom first, then "spell it out" on her keyboard. She has to go through the whole stack each day (I didn't give her the super hard-to-read words yet!). This is really too easy with the stickers right on the keyboard, but that's not really the point, right? The point is that she can find specific keys on the piano and to get her a "sneak peek" into learning some notes...eventually. :)

Not bad for our first 30-minute lesson! The crazy but wonderful thing about this is that, eventually, you can do the same handful of warm-ups over and over again, even once you've gotten them to scales and beginning songs. There is SO MUCH to cover with piano for a "before beginner" (posture, hand positions, finger control, tempo and rhythms, notation, etc.) and it can be extremely overwhelming to know where to start, but I feel good about how it went and I look forward to watching Caida learn a lot this year (and for ME to learn a lot right along with her...we'll be playing duets in no time).

If you have a preschooler or child with special needs and you want some great resources to help them, here are some websites I'm using a LOT this year that have games to download and tips to consider (you can use them even if you have no piano experience yourself!):

Color In My Piano (lots of printables, including more finger exercises but also musical concepts)

Colourful Keys (tips for keeping a preschool piano lesson from going off the rails!)

SpinDitty (musical basics, AKA where to start when the WHOLE WIDE WORLD OF MUSIC is out there to explore!)

I won't be sharing every lesson we do, but I'll share some activities we try from time to time, especially as I find or create things that work out really nicely. Also, taking videos that she knows will be seen by the people of the internet is a BIG motivator for Caida, so expect to be seeing lots of her progress vlog-style throughout the year. :)

2018 Theme..."Let in the Light"

I began thinking about my 2018 theme sometime last August. The start of school is a lot like the New Year for me, in that I start having visions and goals of what the future should hold, and impressions about how I want to improve. I felt very strongly that I should have my theme be the same as what will go on our headstone once I can actually afford it--simply, "Called to Serve." I've spent the last 4 1/2 years since my husband's death thinking and feeling very selfishly, mostly out of necessity...but I want to do more for others and to focus on helping relieve their needs instead of my own. Last year's theme was "Go and do," which became something of a battle cry for those moments when I didn't want to go anywhere or do anything, especially that the Lord asked. It helped me stay motivated to chase after my goals, spiritual and temporal, and to focus on obedience a little more.

It worked. Mostly. For a while.

The problem with this and other themes for me is that I have this faith and goodness thing all backwards. I feel like I have to run around "going and doing" and eventually I will find/earn/create this goodness, this Light that I so desperately crave in my life.

But that Light is already there, independent of myself, whether I "go and do" or "stay and sleep." I can't change it, but I CAN let it change me. I realized that, much like the people building the Tower of Babel, I was trying to "earn" my way into heaven (or, heck, even into peace here and now) through good works. While I DEFINITELY believe in the importance of works, and could cite several scriptures and prophets that verify that our actions DO matter, I realized that my intense focus on this had the opposite effect I so desperately desired. It just left me tired--no, exhausted--and feeling inadequate, like if I didn't feel that peace or see the blessings then I just wasn't working hard enough at it. (And sometimes, that is true! Take promptings about self-correction seriously. But it's also a dangerous and proud way to think sometimes...) OR, even worse, that the Lord just didn't love me like He loves so-and-so so I'll never have what they have so WHY EVEN BOTHER spinning my wheels because I'll NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH to get that goodness in me.

General Conference changed everything for me. In two separate addresses, one to the women of the Church and one to the men, speakers spoke of Light. Light is a powerful word. The brightness that chases away the darkness and confusion, that shows the way; the strength that helps us bear heavy burdens...after listening to/reading these talks, I just had this image of the OPPOSITE of everything I had been doing. Of a moment at a beach, or along a trail, or in a garden, where I am STILL and QUIET and my eyes are closed, my face turned toward the sun and I'm just there, letting it warm me, doing nothing but turning to the sunshine and letting it in. I realized that THAT was what I wanted and needed in my life right now. I didn't want to chase after it like a prize to be won, I just wanted to access what was already there waiting for me. Peaceful and still, and then let it warm up the coldness and light up the darkness that I have seen inside of myself so acutely lately until it fills me up and spills over into everything else I do and everyone else I encounter.

There is still a lot to DO to let in this heavenly Light, I realize this. But the focus is different, and the realization that in doing I just have to turn to it, let it in, and then get out of my own way has made a huge difference in how I go about the doing. 

I'm excited to see where this year takes me. And I'm excited to be blogging and journaling again so that you can be a witness along the way. :)