The Opposite of Fear

I live in a town obsessed with Halloween.  In fact, the entire month of October here is a celebration of fear.

My attempt at joining in the fun.

I play along with the dress up and the ghouls and goblins, but the honest truth is that my fears have nothing to do with those things.

Its funny how your fears change as you age.  When I was young, I was terrified of The Exorcist and being alone in the middle of the night.  As I got older, my fear became all about my insecurities. Speaking in public. Being the outsider in school.  Being alone.

I had a brief period when I was fearless in life.  It was that glorious time in my young adult life.  No longer bound by the idiosyncrasies of high school.  I was free to be what I wanted.  I wouldn't miss a trip the the amusement park to feed my need for thrills. And I didn't mind being alone so much. I had no one I was responsible for, I was free.

Then adulthood crept up on me. I don't know at what point exactly heights became terrifying.  And driving on the highway became an exercise in blood pressure control. But I find myself afraid of many things these days. Don't even get me started on birds.

But those are the least of my worries.  What truly haunts me late at night is imagined scenarios that would likely never actually occur.

A phone call telling me that my husband or a loved one has been in a terrible accident.
Ruining my children's lives because my parenting is all wrong.
And the worst of all...having to outlive one of my children.

Things that I should never think about.  Situations I would never want to call into my present life.  Yet my mind lives through them as if they are real.  As if trying to savor them and pull every ounce of emotion out of my body.  Sometimes it feels like I have actually lived through it.  A haunting virtual simulation.  I find myself weeping in my living room while life is going on around me. A flash of anxiety playing out my darkest fears has defeated me again.

Fears that stop me from living in the present for fear of the bad that could happen.  Even when things are perfectly fine.  I find myself worried about what is waiting on the other side. Brene Brown calls this "forboding joy."  And I call it, a good portion of my adult life.

Maybe it's the fact that as an adult, you realize how little control you actually have in life.  Children tend to look up to grown ups to solve everything.  They can't wait to grow up, thinking they will no longer have any fears, they'll be able to do anything.  But you get here and you realize that there is that expectation placed on you with absolutely no bearing.  You actually have very little control.

As a Christian, we are called to give our fears to God.  He is in control, so we don't have to be.  Some days, that's the only thing I have.  Especially when I look at my children and I think how much I would give my life to keep them safe, but in the end, there is so little I can really do.

So how can I combat those fears when they come?  What is the opposite of fear?  Bravery might seem like the right answer, but you can be brave (or cowardly) and still have fear.

I believe the opposite of this kind of fear is joy and thanksgiving. Both, because you can't really have one without the other.   In fact, it's so fitting that the month of thanksgiving comes after the month of fear.  Because we get to recall all those things we are thankful for and let go of our fear. We get to experience JOY.

Now exiting fear town. Salem, MA

I don't want to spend my adulthood afraid.  I don't want to live in fear--I want to choose joy.  It's a work in progress. So the month of November, I'm going to take on a 30 days of Thanksgiving project (more info to come). I hope you will join me.

In the meanwhile, I'd love to hear your thoughts.  What are your fears?  How have they evolved over time?  How do you combat them?

Falling into simplicity

Fall is my favorite season.  The weather is the most gorgeous in Boston from September to October.  Shhh...don't tell everyone that. I want to keep them for myself after all the tourists have gone.  The gorgeous foliage, the smell of the crisp air coming in.  Apple picking. Cider donuts.  Fall is sheer radiance.

With the transition in seasons, I try to transition my life a bit.  Summer is always so busy.  Autumn is the perfect season for me to get my life back in order.  To the dismay of my friends, I stop accepting invites to hang out and scheduling play dates.  As a person who loves connecting (and honestly, people pleasing), it is hard for me to do this.  But the truth is that we need our weekends at home. 

The school season comes in like a whirlwind full of events.  Just this month alone, the kids have been busy doing art projects for the fall fair, making costumes, and part-taking in fall school fundraisers.  Work also picks up as people stop their summer slacking and start revamping projects and committees.  So we need our weekends to rest.

Yes, I said rest.

I don't always say no to something because I'm busy doing something, but because I'm busy doing nothing.

I actively work not to set any plans in stone right now because I'm busy trying to be unscheduled.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not forsaking my friends altogether.  I need them to fill my spirit as well.  But we've been doing things more in passing.  "Swinging by the farm today if anyone wants to join."  No expectations for anyone to rearrange their lives or leave the comfort of their home for a scheduled event.

We are currently going on 3 weeks straight of no hard plans on our weekend agenda.  It has been marvelous. You see, something amazing happens when you stay home for an entire weekend.  You get to sit outside and enjoy the beautiful weather without rushing off somewhere.  You get be present with your kids.

It is so hard to get more than a sentence out of a preteen in passing.  And yet, we used the past few weekends to read The Outsiders, watch the movie, AND discuss it together.  This reaffirmed that saying no to that extra outing was worth it.

I finally taught my five-year-old to tie his shoes.  He came up to me over the weekend because he was "bored", and we tied shoes for half an hour, then he went off to draw a crayola masterpiece.

Down time at home is so important.  I truly believe this is why God insisted on us keeping the Sabbath.  And yet, in this society we insist on working ourselves to death 24/7.  Everyone seems to have such a busy schedule filled with sports, activities, and clubs.  We've been there too. We decided its not for us.

For the past few months, our Friday night through Saturday evening has been exclusively reserved for resting and connecting.  I'm not going to pretend that I keep it as strictly as instructed.  We still cook or occasionally go somewhere fun.  But the key is that at the end of the day on Saturday, I feel rested and connected with my family (and when the stars align, friends).

To pull this off, I'm trying to stay disciplined and accomplish housework and chores on other days of the week.  I've been getting up earlier to squeeze in a workout most mornings so that I can sleep in on Saturdays.  We have an intricate schedule of chores that we stick to during the week.  Sundays, between church and evening groups, we cook massive amounts of food and do a deep clean of the house, which I have dubbed "Power Hour".  It's not as fun as it sounds, but it sets us up for the week and it feels good having that space during the week to operate.

I know the holiday season will creep up on us before we know it.  And again, there will be dozens of volunteer events, family meals, parties and birthdays. (Why is everyone's birthday in December?).  In the spring, we'll sign up for swim or dance lessons.  And in the summer we'll meet up with friends, camp, travel and have a blast.

But for now, we're enjoying the simplicity.  If you need us, we'll be watching the leaves change colors.

The joy of taking walks every morning is watching the world transition before your eyes.

"It didn't happen to me"

I've heard many disturbing things related to the Kavanaugh confirmation lately.

The crux of the issue seems to be, if it's true, why wait so long? At this point, is it even relevant?

One of the comments in particular that I read on social media this week sent me down a deep dark tunnel of thoughts. It was from a woman who had learned that her grandfather had molested her mother many years after the fact.  She never said anything while he was alive, and as a result, the granddaughter had always known him to be a kind and loving grandfather and provider for his family. So she was grateful that he was given a chance to "right his wrongs" otherwise, she wouldn't have known him to be the "family pillar" that he was all those years later.

In other words, it wouldn't have been beneficial to her and definitely not the grandfather, if her mom had spoken up sooner. I don't know all the details of the situation, obviously, but from the little information I extracted, it seems like it was just brushed under the rug.  He changed, so it was never "worth" making him face what he did.

But, what if something else had happened?  What if this "great guy" were to strike again and someone else had to suffer as a result?  What about the fact that ONE child suffered because of what he did?  Is just one person's experience worth something?

Sometimes we have this attitude that "it didn't happen to me, and it was in the past, so it doesn't matter." We have a tendency to overlook victims in favor of weighing the effect on us.

Sure, everyone has the right to rehabilitate and change. Everyone has the right to care about how actions from their past will affect their families now. But you also have the right have to own up to your truth.

Kavanaugh stated that his 10 year old daughter asked to pray for Ford.  If this is true, then she's likely the most enlightened person in his family. She is well aware how this has affected her father's victim.

Of course for this poor child, it would be preferable to believe that it's a lie and her father is not this monster being described. She has only ever known him as loving and kind. And yet, if it is true, then she is yet another victim of his crimes--not only the abuse, but his inability to own up to it.

All these years he's been living his life without reprieve, enjoying privileged life while his victim has been in prison.

Because, let's be clear--victims of abuse don't just move on. They try to continue with their life, but the nightmares still come. That instinct to recoil at when someone accidentally brushes against you on public transportation will strike when least expected. The constant discussion of abuse suddenly in the media will send you on an downward emotional spiral so fast you can barely breathe.

Can you imagine what it would be like to have the monster who haunts your dreams not only exalted and given a position above reproach?  The same man who didn't once bat an eye at your suffering or reach out to alleviate some of the destruction he caused.  It's enough to make anyone scream try to make their voice heard, no matter the consequences.

So when is the right time to make amends?

When is the right time to scrutinize our highest officials and hold them to better standards?

This isn’t about politics.  It is about human dignity.

If you don't give a voice to the victims now, who will give you one if it happens to you?

"Your silence will not protect you." -Audre Lorde