Thoughts on The Work of Friendship

How many people know you really well? How many people do you really know? Most of us can count an acceptable number of friends listed as our email contacts, but with how many people are we comfortably intimate? That long list of friends we have on MySpace proves that we are just social enough to know a lot of people, without really knowing any of them and with even fewer of them really knowing us. As a generation, as a people, we are uniquely capable of being in touch with each other, but not deeply.

When did the idea of closeness and intimate relationships, even platonic ones, suddenly get so intimidating? We are more capable now than ever before to stay thoroughly involved in the details of each other’s lives, yet most of the people I know consider themselves to be somewhat lonely.

Is it simply business that preoccupies us from doing that awkward, self-revealing relational work with another soul? The average person holds down a job, maintains a home of some kind, occupies themselves with a hobby and maybe even indulges in a spiritual existence. Our world of connectivity and rapidly advancing communication technology should allow for us to do even more without missing one relational beat. With each text message, with each increasingly mechanical attempt at intimacy, I believe we are finding ourselves as relationally undernourished as someone who only eats Lucky Charms at every meal.

I recently became intrigued with a Facebook utility that tracks and lists the music listening habits of a Facebook friend who might have added this feature to their page. It allows the user to view and interpret a friend’s current musical interests and habits without ever having to actually inquire. This mechanism supplements the need to actually communicate interests or passions directly to another human being. All one must do is passively put your activity out there for anyone who might be interested to see and hope that someone may notice that zealous spark in your eyes through their computer’s monitor. It’s as if we are searching for a needle-shaped shred of connection in a fiber optic haystack.

The indulgence in superficial relationships has left us starving for something real! We are blinded by our hunger to the point where we equate openness and honesty with pressure and expectation. For real friendship to be possible, apologies and accountability are an absolute necessity. Unfortunately both of those things are very difficult to do, so perhaps we’ve simply abandoned the attempt at closeness in favor of a fast-food version that only leaves us starving when we need food the most.

Loving with depth requires sacrifices from time to time, but that kind of depth cannot be replaced by any other substitute. We can subsist for some time on whatever fills that void, but inevitably we will find ourselves overloaded in superficial relationships and going to bed starving for something real. Perhaps we would be alarmed at just how easy is it to mistakenly assign importance to unhealthy relationships when we are at the point of desperation.

Nevermind that we all tend to feel that longing for relationship, but as generally stressed out people, shouldn’t we be seeking depth in relationship as a stress reliever if nothing else? Recently, a friend’s child was very sick and in her illness had a seizure. In the days of continued sickness that followed, what that mom needed most was to not be alone in her fear. Through discussion and company, she could maintain her normal rational mind and proceed as the capable mother that she is. Without that contact, fear overwhelms and overtakes its victims.

Have we reached the point that we’d rather be entertained constantly that do the work of relating to one another? Were deep relationships more inevitable years ago when we had more time and had fewer hang-ups? Did that time ever really exist?
We are made to need each other. We should not feel ashamed to need love and companionship, and we shouldn’t shy away from offering it to each other either, yet we do. We reach out weakly in an attempt to fish for the opportunity for more. It bruises no egos and it offends no one. It just leaves us wishing we had the courage to generate the relationships we need in order to live the satisfied and fulfilled lives we desire.

http://www.sixwise.com/newsletters/06/05/31/the_serious_health_risks_of_loneliness__amp_the_healing_power_of_friendship.htm

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1559723432/

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We had the big envelope opening at Cinderella's Castle at Disney World’s Magic Kingdom on Sunday, May 18th!



I helped Jager tear open the envelope and he happily pulled out its contents. We immediately saw the little “girl” flashcard that we had become so familiar with while teaching that word to Jager. Of course, as practiced, Jager blurted out “Gerrr!” informing us of the baby's XX chromosomal status. I had to study the actual ultrasound photo that was wrapped up in it to make sure the tech hadn’t made a mistake with the wrong flashcard. Studying the ultrasound photo that read simply and quite unromantically, “girl parts” didn’t help me believe it either though. I’ll put it this way, boys are much easier for the untrained eye to detect in a 2D ultrasound of a fetuses nether regions.
So, I’m having a baby girl! She is due in late September and she already has a bunch of pink onesies and a few hats. Poor baby is just going to miss the summer, so hats are very important. I can’t imagine what our daughter will look like. I keep imagining Jager, but a bit smaller and with longer hair. That’s probably a fair assumption. :)
It's a strange enough of a feeling knowing your about to have two kids, but knowing you've got both sexes to learn about it a bit overwhelming. I thought I was going to be a mom to all boys--forced to finally learn the rules of football and relagate my good clothes to the back of my closet. Now, I'm going to have a little fashionista living me who will beg me to braid her hair (memo to self: must learn how to do that) or who will nag me to wear something more stylish. At least that's just based on what I've inflicted on my own mother. :)
Well, wish me luck!

Congratulations, it’s a…

Today was our 18 week ultrasound.

For those of you who actually read this and didn’t already know, I am pregnant again. This whole pregnancy has gone by so fast and so far, has been the easiest one of my life. Yeah! Well, the time has arrived for the dreaded anatomy ultrasound (the one where most people get all excited about finding out their baby’s gender).

I hate this test because they check for all kinds of abnormalities and problems too. It makes me so nervous that today; I actually broke out in hives for the first time in my entire life! My chest looked like I had poorly sprayed sunblock on it then spent the entire day in the Egyptian desert—a blotchy red mess! I only noticed it this morning. As soon as we left the OB’s office and sat down to breakfast, I realized that my chest was clear again. What the heck was that about!? I don’t think that even happened to me the last time I had this ultrasound with my son. Wow, my anxiety must have been off the charts today.

From what the ultrasound tech told us, our newest addition looks normal and healthy. I couldn’t ask for much more than that. Oh, except to know the gender maybe. This is where it gets fun. First of all, "Number 2" (what we call this baby) was not feeling particularly cooperative today in this area. He/She kept it's hand over the parts we needed to see. The Tech could not get a clear picture until after I emptied my "full bladder" and did a few jumping jacks. I was stopped just short of doing a handstand. Long story short, Number 2 finally cooperated after that.

Believe it or not, we (being Jason and I) never even intended to find out the gender today. I find the test too stressful to enjoy that particular moment lying on my back with gunk on my swollen belly. We asked the tech to put the photo of the gender parts (nice term, huh?) in an envelope along with a copy of a flashcard we’ve been using to teach Jager the words, “boy” and “girl.” We asked her to toss the superfluous card and seal up the envelope for us to open later. We are going on vacation to Disney World in May so we thought it would fun to have Jager open it there somewhere and hope he’ll pull the flashcard and announce the gender of his first sibling to us. I know, I know we are totally cheesy parents, but everyone likes to have a fun story attached to their beginnings. For example: I am often reminded on my birthdays that I was “created” in a VW bus while on safari in Krugerland. Gross yes, fun… well, yes. I spare my offspring the dirty details of that very special… moment and simply make a big deal out of discovering a big part of who they are.

As the carrier of this child, I do have my feelings about what he/she is, but I’m keeping them to myself for now. I’ll let everyone know what it is when we find out. Until then, let’s keep it neutral, okay? :)

Revised Church of Oprah

Poor Oprah. How confusing her spiritual life must be. To so believe the lie that we are inherently God-like (in terms of our power and metaphysical makeup) that one feels they have to create spiritual truth as they go along must be totally exhausting.

I have no problem with the acknowledgement of our unique and powerful nature as human beings in the spiritual realm… even the Bible illustrates this in the first chapter of the first book. In the end, we are the creations of a most high God who, however much we might despise the fact, is a greater power over us (even though we might be elevated to god-like status in earthly terms). No matter who we are or what we’ve achieved, we must all one day deal with the reality that without God, we are as insignificant as dust in the desert and far more finite.

We can’t decide what we are anymore than we can decide who our unborn children are or will be. It’s all a silly, pointless, pseudo-philosophical guessing game without God or His Word in the equation. Only God’s Word can guide us to the real ultimate truth—that we were created by a far greater power (whom many call God) for reasons not completely known. We are designed to need Him and He has longed for us since the beginning of time. It’s not about power in God’s eyes; it’s about Love and always has been. God created us out of love, he set us up in this world out of love and humbled Himself to become our savior out of love and we can rest assured that his plan of redemption and peace for us is not over yet because he loves us more than we could ever love him back.

Oprah (and others), you don’t have to be equal to God, and you don’t have to negate God or Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross to have strength. You seem like a searcher and I doubt you’ve reached your ultimate conclusion on this subject. May God gently reveal His true nature to you that you may experience the only peace there is to be had in this world—the assurance of the love of God for you. You never walk alone. Even in your doubt, as epic as it may be, God is there.

101 Dalmatians, 101 Times.

The Pongos watching their favorite television program.

Clearly, I am not one of those overly ambitious mothers who attempts to shut television and movies out of my son’s life. We enjoy movies and it seems only natural that he would too. It’s a convenient mutual interest and while we are careful about content, and faithful to watch with him, I don’t fret about his occasional study of the many delights of the boob tube.

As he has grown and developed, so have his entertainment preferences. Baby Einstein’s digital board books only interest him in that he likes to yell out the names of the things presented on screen and I believe he enjoys the music. It’s more like baby Muzak to him—it’s good in the background while building Mega Lego towers.

Lately, my son has been going through these obsessive phases with different movies. It all started with Elmo and that dreaded Sesame Street segment, Elmo’s World. That opening tune of “La la la La, La la la La Elmo’s Wooooorld” threatened to take out all my last living brain cells in a Kamikaze style bombardment of the mind! His need to watch Elmo’s World every night and day thankfully morphed into an interest in other shows as well. It wasn’t long before his nightly cries of “Couch?!” meaning Big Comfy Couch, began the steady invasion of catchy Canadian kid’s songs about hurting your doll’s feelings, and learning that “it’s the thought that counts” into my already weakened, under challenged mind. At least it offers an intellectual step up from Elmo’s simple repetition of the day’s theme word to the tune of “Jingle Bells.”

Finally, my son has graduated from the world of TV on DVD to discover the endless world of children’s movies! In my opinion, this is the most significant media related developmental milestone yet, at least for me, the co-watcher of all! It began with Toy Story. He found the DVD box and as any observant child would, he immediately related the brightly colored drawn figures on the cover to something that should belong to him. He demanded we present him with the contents of the box and only moments after inserting the Pixar classic into the DVD player, we created an animation addict.

He is now working his way through a retrospective of classic Disney animation. Currently we are fixated with 101 Dalmatians, a movie he refers to simply as “Doggie.” Watching him watch this movie is like watching Lucky, the would-be stillborn Dalmatian puppy with a spotted horseshoe pattern on his back, watch “Old Thunder” defeat his villainous foes on the dog’s favorite television show sponsored by Kanine Krunchies… of course.

This embarrassing notation of the details of 101 Dalmatians brings me to my point. If a two-year old boy can watch this movie twice a day without a waning interest, how do his parents manage to endure the onslaught without losing all mental function entirely? The answer is that a keen ability to pick up all movie minutia develops. You become that person who writes entire blog entries about the film’s plot and scene discrepancies as well as the fact that the human, Anita, who is the “pet” of Perdita, the Dalmatian wife of Pongo, our hero, has shockingly similar mannerisms and speech patterns to that famous animated housekeeper turned princess, Cinderella.

You might wonder why then do I actually watch this latest filmic obsession with my son when he would happily watch it alone. The truth is that one of the greatest simple pleasures of parenthood is to be able to snuggle up next to your skinny, long-legged child and hold him next to you as you “discuss” the events of the story. While he still loves and wants me to join him, I’ll never turn down the opportunity to do it.

My response to being Tagged.

"Once you have been tagged, you have to write 10 random things, facts, habits or goals about yourself. At the end, choose 10 people to be tagged, listing their names and why you chose them. Don't forget to leave them a comment ("YOU'RE IT") and to read your blog (or post a comment on my blog for those of you how don’t have them somewhere like Myspace or blogspot). You can't tag the person who tagged you. Since you can't tag me back, let me know when you've posted your blog so I can see your answers"

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1.My favorite song lyrics of all time come from a (generally stodgily performed) hymn called, O Worship the King. “His chariots of wrath the deep thunderclouds form, And dark is His path on the wings of the storm.” Thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end, Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend.” You realize just how safe we really are when you hear these words.

2. I hate it when groups of girls go around together looking just like one another—same flat ironed hair, same short shorts, same way of walking, same facial expressions… I find it more offensive than the most pathetic display of deliberate individuality.

3. I wish everyone in the world could walk around wearing name tags. The world would be a much friendlier place if everyone around us was humanized by having a name that we knew. “Oh, hey there, Rob. Please don’t mug me… I’m on vacation and your mom, Joyce would be very disappointed in your behavior!”

4. I think the church is often an institution of good-hearted people that inevitably becomes an unChristlike fraternity based on a hierarchal system of perceived faith. I believe that when that happens, the mission of the church becomes little more than an aspiration to pat ourselves on the back. I aspire to be unacceptable as a traditional Christian—I want to be a reflection of the REAL Jesus Christ, the boat rocker and crazy lover of mankind!

5. Whenever I’m pregnant, I cry at the drop of a hat. Everything moves me! The odd thing is that I actually enjoy the heightened intensity and appreciation for things more than I feel embarrassed about crying for seemingly no reason.

6. I honestly believe that there are two phrases we can never say enough. “I love you” and “Who the heck cares!?”

7. I am embarrassed when service people do things for me that I can do for myself—like picking up my plate at a restaurant, or making my bed at a hotel.

8. I imagine my dream home with such clarity that it feels as if I’ve been there before. It’s a craftsman style, two-story house with tons of floor to ceiling windows that is nestled among hundreds of tall trees and within a short walk to the ocean. You can even see the beach from a desk nook in a room on the second floor… and that window is always open.

9. My heart hurts when I think of other places in the world; I want to be there so badly.

10. I have to sleep with my feet sticking out of the covers, no matter how cold it is. My Gran and my mom do the exact same thing! I also shared an identical birthmark with my late Gran. It makes you wonder about how much say we have in who we are.


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Ok... 10 people...
1. Jason – “because I'd love to see if he can come up with something I don't already know.” (Explanation stolen from Dacia)
2. Christina – just to challenge her for the time to do this
3. Stacia – because she’s never boring
4. Jay - because only he could write longer explanations that me
5. Emily A. - because I miss her unusual way of seeing things
6. LadyMac – because her words are always refreshing
7. Krystin - because she has a fresh perspective as a busy new mom
8. Mom - because I feel like seeing if she can figure out how to do this
9. A2 – …so tell me something about yourself
10. Kim – just get your head away from work for a while

Feelin' It

I was going to blog about something totally different, but now I'm just not feelin' it. Maybe later.

Instead, my attentions were radically redirected by and email from a friend. I feel like writing my Manefesto De Noemi, my intentional purpose in relationship with others and my approach to life. If this all sounds a bit too Oprah for you, feel free to detour over on down to my favorite internet escapist haunt, Dlisted.com. Michael K. will serve you up right.

My motto is quite simple really--Life is short, so love passionately, speak openly and take risks! Forget your hangups and decide that you will bring joy to joyless situations. Don't hold back for fear of hurt or rejection--be a fool. Be what is missing!

Was that "quite simple"? I don't know. I realize that everyone has had some serious pain in their lives. Some of you have had some seriously awful, messed up things to deal with and life isn't fair. Trust me, I know. I've just come to really admire those who have risen up out of their pain and decided to be something stronger than they were before--to act fearless even if they still fear. To rise up at all is an act of fearlessness. I have lost too much to pretend I don't need people. The people I love and need are simply flawed human beings the same as everyone else and even when I don't understand their motivations, I will be willing to "creep within and feel [their] beating heart"--to try to understand for their sake.

I honestly don't care if I appear cool, or aloof, because am rarely either and it is too much work to attempt to appear otherwise. I am just a poor, wounded, stupid thing and I wouldn't change that for the world.