Happy One-Year "Blogiversary"

HAPPY BLOGIVERSARY TO THE DISSIDENT DAUGHTERS BLOG!

Hey, readers. Anne here. It has officially been one year since the Dissident Daughters started blogging. We can hardly believe it. And within that year, we have had a grand total of 49 posts, which averages to almost once a week.

To celebrate our one-year blogiversary, we wanted to write a collaborative post about what the past year of blogging has meant to each of us. Yes, yes, we all know that every one of the daughters can be a bit verbose. Try to read this entry in chunks if it is too much for one sitting. 

Thank you to everyone that has read our blog. We appreciate your engagement, participation, and feedback. Please continue!!! If you ever have any questions- about our posts, our blog, our lives, please don’t hesitate to ask. And if you ever want to comment about our words, I encourage you to do so!!! We love our readers.

Without further ado-

Amy
I cannot believe we have been writing our blog for over a year. The time has gone by so quickly…it seems trite to say and it is so true. Over the past year, our blog has given me several gifts and opportunities.

Although my sisters and I are relatively close, I have discovered and understood more about them through the process of writing this blog together. I have also gotten to know and understand myself better, as I have confronted and clarified my thoughts on subject matter that is important to me. I have had dialogues open between my sisters and friends, in person and online.

I have felt vulnerable with posts I have shared. Writing has been my creative outlet and the opportunity to create and express myself and be vulnerable has been amazing and life changing. I have felt stronger and empowered…which, in my opinion, come along with being vulnerable and authentic.

For the coming year, I wish for us the opportunity to reach more people and develop a dialogue with more readers. I hope we continue to know and love and trust each other. And for myself, I would like to allow myself even more vulnerability…I have a tendency to write on outside subjects and topics I am impassioned about and I enjoy writing and thinking about those things.

At the same time, I would like to share more of myself and my life experiences and how those things have helped me become the person I am today…who I happen to love more every day I get to know her. Even in personal relationships it is easier for me to listen than to speak and I would like to put my personal voice and experience more into play in the coming year. Most of all, I want to continue to create and love and engage and connect.

Thank you all for reading, and thank you, dear sisters, for contributing and committing and remaining engaged and forgiving my delinquent posts and my insecurities and for supporting, loving and encouraging me on a daily basis.

Jill

I can't believe Dissident Daughters has been publishing blogs for a year. Honestly, I almost started crying just thinking about how fast a year can go by. This year, like every other year of my life, has been filled with change,  wonder, amazement, love, and beauty but through all of that, the underlying thread of darkness-my old friend-has been ever present, like a dangerous undercurrent, just wating to pull me under. I feel like I am constantly fighting to stay above water. I have many life boats-my husband (on some days at least- haha), my kids, the Army (as foolish as that sounds), a few good friends, but most of all my sisters, and yes, this little unknown blog.

Over the past year, the blog has been cathartic for me. I have written about things that I have thought for a very long time but had previously sensor ed myself about. Ha, you think. As if I have ever sensored myself. Scary as it may be, though, I have sensored myself, stifled my voice, hidden my soul. As someone who yearns for external validation yet hides behind a cloak that disguises her as a genuine asshole, the blog has been reclvealing to me. I feared many things when it first began. I feared no one would read it. I feared if people did read it they would hate me for my perceived controversial views on life. I feared we would fizzle out. I feared I wouldn't have anything to say. I feared backlash. I feared ridicule. I feared I really was an asshole. None of things have happened much to my surprise. In fact, the only person that has called me an asshole is myself. Maybe I'm the only one who thinks that...well, the jury is still out on that but at least no one is openly calling me that other than me, that is. I don't know how many people read our blog. But receiving external validation has started to matter less and less to me. I enjoy learning about the lives of these other women I call my sisters. I didn't know them as well as I thought and at the same time I knew them better than I thought. Sometimes I'm in awe as to how our shared experience produced such wildly different lives that are still yet very similar.

I don't know what my future holds. I never do, really, no one does. But what I do know is that the blog has taught me that through it all, lessons will be learned, assholes will be made, strength will be gathered from likely and unlikely sources, fear will be dissipated, and love will be ever-present, even through the very darkest of times. Thank you to my dear sisters who have taught me about myself, allowed me the freedom to express my feelings, and shared the richness of their thoughts with me through this blog. There is no greater act of love than that. I love you guys.

Molly

I think I already said this in a previous blog post, but I’ll say it again.  For me, the past year of being part of the Dissident Daughters blog has been like one of us sharing our not-so-personal diary with each other every week. Even though we as sisters communicate multiple times daily through one mode or another between our group texts, email, Facebook, and Snapchat, each week I look forward to reading something more substantial from one of the four most important people in my life. It’s amusing because often the blogger does not think she has anything to write about, not realizing that for me (maybe not for our entire audience), it’s entertaining just to read about what may seem like the more mundane details of our everyday lives. However, I do not want to give the impression that our blogs simply detail our boring lives.  It obviously means much more than that. If I really wanted to slipshod this post, I’d simply sum it up right here and say that what the blog has done for me over the past year is solidify our sisterly bond. Ah, how cheap. What is a sisterly bond anyway? So many people talk about it but there is no book definition. Ultimately, I think it’s an energy you feel but people have tried to define it using quotes…

One quote I have about the sisterly bond includes the line, “She’s the one singing your song when you need to hear it most.” I can’t tell you how many times I have read one of my sister’s blogs and thought, “Wow, she nailed it. I feel/have felt the exact same way. I’m glad she sang that song today because I really needed it.” Or some days, I will be having a shitty Monday and just reading one of my sister’s blogs makes me feel connected and grounded. It’s weird and hard to explain but I often feel stronger after reading the blog for that week. It’s as if seeing and reading one of my sister’s thoughts makes me feel like they are not so far away.

I also have a quote about the bond between sisters that says, “A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.” I have also felt this connection to childhood over the past year with the blog in a couple different ways. First, often we blog about our times together (my bachelor party and Christmas time) and our stories are so ridiculous that one may think s/he was reading about a couple of high school friends, not “grown up” adult women. The second way in which I have felt the connection to our childhood not being lost, is that I think the blog has brought out the vulnerability in all of us. Not that being vulnerable is childish by any means (I actually think it is a sign of intelligence and being evolved) but we often associate being vulnerable with childhood. We’ve heard Amy discuss grieving her loss of a romantic partner, Jill talk about her struggles as a parent, Anne convey her concerns about how to be “strong,” Kristen communicate her fears about transitioning from college, etc, etc, etc. I could go on and on with examples of all of us laying out our vulnerability. In fact, I just scrolled through almost all of the old blogs trying to find examples and teared up at how beautiful it is to be vulnerable with each other. If you have paid attention to my previous blog posts, you already know my thoughts on vulnerability. Maybe that is part of what is behind the mysterious sisterly bond?

Anne

One year of blogging! I can hardly believe it! Honestly, it seems like just yesterday that I was struggling with the mechanics of trying to put this blog together. (Definitely not an easy task for someone with little website and design knowledge!)

What has this year of blogging meant to me? Ultimately, it has been a means of continuing to honor and expand the relationship I have with my sisters. I love reading their thoughts and feelings in their own voices; reading one of their entries always helps me feel as though I grow closer to them. Additionally, I always learn something new- I think about an issue from a different angle, and I also learn about yet another layer in their personhood.

It’s not always simple. Yes, one of the advantages of writing a blog with 4 other people is that you are not tasked with writing a post every week.  And yet writing with 4 other people means that you have to coordinate and collaborate. There are some weeks where one of us did not plan enough time our schedule to write a post, and we have to quickly decide if someone else will post, or if we will have to skip a week. We also have to coordinate promoting on Facebook, realizing that some days it is easier and more difficult than others. And even this post- we have to each submit paragraphs, and then I edit it into one posted entry. There are certainly challenges amongst the joy and delight of reading each other’s words.

But all of this- both the beauty and challenges of writing a blog together- it’s what being in relationship with one another is about. And I love it because ultimately, this entire project helps us to grow closer to one another. Coordinating and collaborating helps us to know how to advocate, compromise, discuss, laugh, and grow together. And this process ultimately enhances and deepens our relationship. It’s honest, it’s real, it’s fun, it’s work. And that, my friends, is love.

Additionally, I love that this sister’s project is one in which we are able to create and connect in the world. There have been several instances in which someone told one of the sisters how much a particular entry resonated with him or her. I want that; I want that connection. I want someone to read our blog, and to think, “Oh, really, you feel that way too?!?!” It validates and affirms us as human beings.  However, in addition to validation, I also want growth and challenge. I want our entries to challenge people to think differently, and I also want others to help me think differently. I wrote about this in a different collaborative post, (see here), but I don’t think that any of us are the sole arbitrators of truth. Deep wisdom is found in a plurality and diversity of voices, and this blog is a means of working toward that. All of our voices are important to that end- the four sisters, our contributing writers, and of course, our readers. 

Overall, thanks to my beautiful sisters and to our amazing readers for the fantastic year. Here’s to many more!

Kristen

My four beautiful sisters are people who have had a significant amount of influence in my life. As I reflect on this past year, I am so grateful that the five of us started our Dissident Daughters blog because it is symbolic of our impeccable bonds and love for each other and a reminder of just how different, yet so much alike we are. One thing the continuation of our blog has made me realize is just how much each and every one of us has grown over the past year. The content of our posts change with the circumstances of our lives and it is beautiful to see the accomplishments, goals, fears, and lessons that we have each undergone.

For myself, the blog has also allowed me to see how I have grown as a writer. At the start of the blog, it was challenging for me to separate my academic writing style from a more leisure, talkative writing style. I always felt pressure to try and sound intelligent and intellectual, which in turn, I believe crippled my writing style. Now, I am more comfortable with writing exactly what I am thinking and feeling and I believe that has actually enhanced the quality of my blog writing.

Our blog has also allowed me to get to know my sisters even better. We are all really close and comfortable with each other, but some of the topics discussed in our blog may not be topics that come up when we are all together or in an everyday conversation. For example, I had no idea how much of an impact Jill’s overseas experience in the military had on her (see “Crazy Bitch” blog post), or at least she was never able to quite explain it to me in words. I think that the blog has been good for all of us because it has allowed us to reveal our feelings, concerns, fears, etc. with our readers and each other without anyone present to critique us in the flesh. Sometimes I think that it is easier to write about our thoughts, feelings, etc. because we have time to think about exactly what we are going to say and do not have to worry about looking stupid in front of someone because at the end of the day, you’re talking to a piece of paper in a sense.

Sometimes the blog can be stressful when it’s your time in the lineup to write because you either have nothing to talk about or too many things to talk about. It is in these times, that I think my posts are the most authentic and genuine because I simply start writing and just go with what comes to my mind and heart. This allows me to discover feelings, thoughts or ideas that I may not have even realized I was having.

So, whether our blog reaches 50 people or 500 people, the blog is significant to my sisters and I because it is a symbol of us. We are glad to share our thoughts with the world and we hope that we can challenge and stimulate the minds of every single reader, but most importantly we hope to keep growing and learning more about ourselves and each other. So cheers to our one year anniversary, Dissident Daughters, and to many more years to come.

“You laugh at me because I am different; I laugh because you are all the same.” ~ Daniel Knode

Well, folks, I have to admit that I'm cashed from the weekend so my creative juices aren't exactly flowing right now. I wish I could say I had a whirlwind weekend in Paris or perhaps even Las Vegas but alas it was simply training. What kind of training you ask? ARMY TRAINING, Segeant! HOOAH!

As I found myself spending another weekend away from my kids, I found myself thinking about the uncommon life my husband and I Iead. We are apart a lot. Between our military careers, traveling for work and other training for various jobs that we have had over the years, we spend many nights, weeks and, at least once when I was Afghanistan, even an entire year apart.  Our first year of marriage I was gone for half of it to attend Officer Basic Course. It's our crazy little adventure to us. To an outsider, I guess it's unconventional. I say this because we have both had people comment on the amount of time we are apart. A few examples: "Oh, I wouldn't like that." "I couldn't put up with that." "You must really trust each other." "You let HIM take care of the kids?" "I hope that's not causing too much stress on your marriage."

While I respect others' opinions of my shit show of a life, and I really do mean that, I am happier than I have ever been. I can't speak for John but I think he is happy too.  The reality is that my husband and I have the freedom to live our lives. And because of that, we are a team. He helps me do what I want and I help him do the same. It's not always easy or perfect. We fight, I'm still an asshole, and John still can't seem to remember to throw his beer bottle tops away. It means we spend time apart but that we also make the most of our time together. When we are together, we are thankful for that time. I don't mean to give the impression we are perfect. We almost didn't make it and we have had some pretty serious disagreements and done some really shitty things to each other. But we have gotten through it. Together. As a team. Not a dream team, mind you, but more like the Bad News Bears. 

At the same time, in order for this unconventional life to work, both of us had to get over some gender stereotypes. I shovel snow and mow the lawn. John takes care of the kids, and is better with them than I could ever hope to be. I used to be mad when I had to shovel snow. Then, one day after we had gotten eight inches of snow and I found myself getting angry about shoveling, I suddenly realized I was doing the very thing to John I didnt want him to do to me: Putting tasks and people in boxes. If I didn't want to be boxed in as a woman with woman's tasks, I couldn't do that to John based on his gender. I couldn't have it both ways. So now I love shoveling and mowing. It reminds me that gender sterotypes are dysfunctional and should be challenged. These tasks now empower me and I'm thankful I have the physical strength to perform them but even more thankful I have a husband who is open-minded enough toto let me do them.

As I leave wearing an Army uniform or as I shovel 8 inches of snow, I realize we are not the norm for a Midwest couple. I suppose that's what makes people question John and I's situation. But in writing this, I am reminded that sometimes the best surprises are hidden in the uncommon. Humans want to fit in, to be unique enough to be interesting but not to be too outside the box to be different. Once again, I am generalizing here, but humans are usually fearful of differences and suspicious or critical of those who are different.

This creates a paradox. By trying to fit in, to be normal, we stifle creativity, imagination and passion. Rarely is greatness born out of the norm because, well, the norm is already the norm. So very little change comes from everyone being the same. It's just not possible to experience change if we are all the same, doing things in the same old way just because that's the way things have always been. In reality, no one's life looks the same, nor should it as we all are our own people, created to be diverse so that we can continue to prosper. Hating or judging or despising those who are different is essentially hating your very nature and the entire premise of creation is it not? 

The other thing I would like to reflect upon is that judging someone else's life without knowing the why, what, who or how, is unfortunate. I'm guilty of doing this and I'm trying to be better about recognizing that I might make the same choices as some other person given the full picture. As people judge my situation, which to me is the only way I would have it, I realize that our judgments say more about the person judging and their weaknesses than the one who is being judged. I don't know what my life would be like without the Army but I don't think I would be immensely happier without it. Maybe I would never be gone but I wonder if I would feel trapped or if John and I wouldn't have become such a great team because we wouldn't have to be. My point is, that there is no guarantee blindly following the norm is the secret to happiness for anyone.

Finally, the last point I would like to offer is that we are not in control of our lives. We try to control many things and predict every outcome. We envision our lives and struggle to accept it when things turn out differently. Sometimes, we try so hard to force our dream life on ourselves that we make poor decisions. For example, let's say you wanted to be married by age 28 and you are currently 27 years old. In order to force your life in the imaginary dream life you concocted for yourself without doing much, if any research, you marry someone who isn't exactly a good match for you and end up divorced. You may have achieved your dream but at what cost?  Who  and what did you miss out on by being with a not so right person?  I think that by forcing our dream instead of being open to the adventures life presents us we can actually create the very life we were trying to avoid in the first place. Instead of focusing on what we think we want with our small minds, which we often fixate on without much reason and based on arbitrary ages and outdated notions of happiness, I think it is better to listen to the universe and follow the path that's laid at your feet. It may take you to uncommon places, it may take you to common ones but the journey will be incredible if you allow it to unfold. Sometimes it's not about finding answers, but facing the ones right in front of you instead. Keep it weird, Readers :) An uncommon life may just surprise you.

I Guess I Wasn't Finished (or, Who Opened that Can of Worms?)

I guess I wasn't quite done with my post on the power of words. Almost immediately after I posted it, I thought of quite a few points I wanted to mention regarding the words we choose to speak and think and that I hadn't included in my last post. When I realized my exclusions, I felt sort of like, "damn it!" and then I realized that 1) I can post to the blog whenever I want so all is not lost (ha!) and 2) the conversation about words is one that I hope is ongoing and not ever really "finished".

One thing I have learned in my life is that what I mean when I use a word or a phrase or talk about a concept is not always (and rarely is!) exactly what someone else means or understands when s/he uses the same word, phrase or concept. This is okay and navigable when the stakes are low (for example, I pour your glass of wine to the top of the star marked on the glass instead of the middle of the star...real life drama on Friday night); when the stakes are high, we're in a completely different ball game and there are two outs in the bottom of the ninth, bases are loaded and there's a full count (for example, what do commitment and fulfillment look/feel like in a relationship?). I'm reading a book right now, The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown (look for a future post on this beautiful book), and I cannot convey the relief and excitement I felt when early on in the book she said that she thinks "it's critically important to define the gauzy words that are tossed around every day but rarely explained."

She goes on to say that even though we might disagree on definitions, it's worth the debate for words and concepts that are important to us. The alternative is not discussing them and it is through common language that we better understand others and our selves. I enthusiastically agree with this...and I think it is something that is given short shrift in this day and age because it requires us to look inside ourselves and access, come to terms with and communicate what these sometimes difficult words/feelings/ideas mean to us.

Trust me, this is not an easy task, especially, as I mentioned earlier, when we are talking about emotional issues, issues concerning security and ethical/moral issues/questions. And that's only part of it...after we figure out what we mean, we have to communicate it to another person and that person might not understand or might disagree with us. It's definitely easier to turn on Netflix or uncork a bottle of wine (speaking from experience!!!) and not confront these issues...easier in the moment. When left unaddressed, however, different definitions of words, concepts and ideas can be devastating to relationships and one's sense of self and can end up causing major discord.

The reality is that if we want to grow as people, in our relationships and as communities, confronting and putting the time and energy into engaging with and defining concepts such as love, commitment, peace, work, rest, balance, power, war, trust, faith (the list is endless) is an essential and lifelong process. I find myself wondering if, in an age where the internet  and instant gratification reign supreme, our educational institutions are quite often subpar at engaging students in critical thinking, a liberal arts education has been made to look silly and inconsequential in comparison to the almighty business degree and most people are too stressed and "busy" to worry about taking care of themselves let alone confront what "shame" or "compassion" mean/look like, people think about how powerful and defining words and their meanings are in our lives and how casually they are thrown around. The general point I want to make in this post is that it is worth the time and effort to define words and concepts-for our selves, for our relationships and for our communities/society.

I also have four specific examples and ideas I want to address. In my last post on words, one of my focal points was sexist language and its effects on women and girls. I want to add that the negative and diminishing effects do not end there. I cannot begin to estimate the number of times I have heard women complaining their male parter or friend was "acting like a girl/woman". The insinuation in these situations was that the male had expressed insecurity, a feeling of some sort (other than anger...the seemingly only acceptable male emotion) or was being (gasp!) dramatic (i.e. cared about something the woman didn't deem worth caring about).

The damage here is twofold. I've already discussed how these terms minimize women. What I didn't mention and is equally as damaging is the effect this has on men and boys. Attitudes and phrases like these do not allow men/boys to express their emotions and feelings in a safe environment. Attitudes and phrases like these essentially shame men/boys into repressing true feelings and emotions and corralling these feelings and emotions into, as I said before, the only acceptable male emotion...anger. Neither gender is allowed to be whole or be heard when we use sexist, diminishing language.

My second and third specific examples I want to address are the words "just" and "should". I don't remember exactly how I came to this realization...a few years ago I came to the conclusion that putting "just" in front of anything automatically minimizes it. In some cases, that's okay. In others, not so much. Places I've stopped using the words "just" include (though are not limited to): "I just want to thank you..."; "I just feel like..."; "I just want to let you know...". If I am sharing any of these sentiments with anyone, it minimizes me, my feelings, my being, their gifts, their love, our relationship, if I use the word "just". Think about it.

The other is the word "should". I go to group counseling...I've gone to counseling for years, individually and in a group setting. My most recent group session has a guideline that members refrain from using the word(s) "should/shouldn't" and changing the language to "want/don't want". For example, instead of saying "I should talk to my boss about X", say, "I want to talk to my boss about X and I haven't yet because I'm X" or "I don't want to talk to my boss about X".

Using want/don't want in place of should/shouldn't requires we 1) take ownership of our thoughts and actions/inactions and 2) confront the why. There isn't an easy way out and "should" is an easy way out. Additionally, "should" isn't always something we want/don't want...many times it is a societal, familial or any outside entity's mandate or judgment. When we eliminate "should", we begin to discover what WE think, not what someone else thinks.

The fourth concept I wish to address is euphemisms. Don't get me wrong...I'm all for hilarious euphemisms for sex (reference pretty much any Bloodhound Gang song here). That said, I find euphemisms can be quite damaging because using them allows us to hide from, not address or confront, the sometimes brutal reality of a situation. One of the most heinous examples I can think of is the term "collateral damage".

This term is frequently used to refer to HUMAN BEINGS inadvertently killed or injured during a military strike (there are other uses, I am aware). The minimization and reduction of a human life filled with all of the things our human lives are filled with is profane, vile, insulting and ludicrous. I do not care what the justification is...using this term allows all of us to leave the realities of a situation unaddressed and if there is one thing I have learned in my life it is that it is dishonest and damaging to leave these things unaddressed, unaccounted for and EASY. There are a number of other examples of damaging, "easy" euphemisms...my point is that this is a part of our language too often left unanalyzed and undiscussed and too easily accepted.

It is my opinion that it is our responsibility as self aware, responsible, compassionate and evolving human beings in relationship with our selves and one another to engage with, discuss and confront the world of words in which we live. I challenge you to be conscious of this in your conversations and your thoughts. My wish is that we all give the power of words credence in our lives. I would love to hear your thoughts and experiences along any of these lines. Namaste.

Chicken Limbo

Hey ya’ll, so it’s currently 5:25 a.m. and I am just beginning to write my blog post for the week. It’s dark, cold and my 12:30 p.m. test about contemporary environmental issues which most definitely is not at the top of my give a fuck list is just looming over my head. Either way, I will be prepared for the test while simultaneously completing my blog post all before 11:30 a.m.

For those of you who don’t know me very well, I am a senior at the University of Iowa meaning I am graduating this upcoming semester. Unlike most seniors, I actually have a clue and am familiar with what the next steps I am going to take in my life will look like. This past year (junior year), I randomly decided to apply for early admissions as a core member for Teach for America. I applied with the attitude of “If I get in, great. If I don’t get in, well, this wasn’t my ultimate goal in life.” The application and interview process turned out to be a 5 step process ranging from a simple submission of an online application to a full blown interview requiring you to teach lesson plan and do a little teacher-principal role play.

Well, oddly it turns out that I apparently have this natural knack for teaching orrrrrr I’m just really good at acting. I guess that’s something that I won’t discover until I actually have my own classroom full of kids with legitimate lesson plans posted on the chalky blackboard. Anyway, after spontaneously going out on a limb and applying to teach for a nonprofit organization that advocates for equal education for all children around the United States, I was accepted as a 2015 upcoming core member in May of 2014 and officially accepted my position with them in October of 2014. I am currently assigned to teach in Memphis, TN and could teach a variety of subjects K-8 grade or teach Spanish for grades 6-12. I will not know the actual grade, subject or school I will be teaching at until after my 8 week certification is completed this summer. Either way though, folks,  I better get used to corn meal and southern accents because come June I will be saying goodbye to the only state I have ever known and saying hello to a very exciting, strange place that I will call home for at least the next two years.

Senior year of college has been one of my favorite and least favorite years in college. It has been my favorite because as always my friends and I have mastered the art of being able to “YOLO” and still get our shit done. The friends I have made in college have been an awesome support system for me the past four years; have seen me cry, laugh, throw tantrums, and release bodily functions, etc. I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to go through a time of instability and growth with. On the other hand, senior year has been my least favorite year because it’s as if I am constantly on a giant rollercoaster of emotions and the ride worker forgot about me while taking a smoke break.

Senior year of college is exciting, terrifying AND most importantly confusing. It is exciting because it is your last year at a school you have so much pride for and the day which seemed forever away on your first day of chemistry freshmen year is rapidly approaching. It is terrifying because most college seniors have no idea what they’re going to do after college and living with Mom and Dad for a few months after escaping their reach for four years is the last thing anyone wants to do. It is also terrifying if you do know what you will be doing after college because it only makes your entrance into the real world more absolute. Finally, the emotion I struggle the most with this year, confusion. Senior year is confusing because one second of the day I literally am thinking about how much I cannot wait to graduate and move on to the next exciting adventure of my life and then another second of the day I’m crying because a time in which I have learned so much about myself and others around me, experienced great and awful experiences and met some of the closest people in my life, is all coming to an end. It’s like you have the door to the future halfway cracked open and can see the amazing view in which it leads to, but can’t seem to find your shoes to actually leave your front door step. This feeling of being caught in between two places is transition. You’re working on taking a leap from one stage of your life into the next and this is very, very uncomfortable for a majority of people.

I struggle with this time of transition because a part of me wonders how invested I should remain with my current life as a last semester senior in college. Is it worth it to go to school activities and meet new people or get coffee with that cute boy who sits next to you during class when in 4-5 short months all of this will be a distant memory? Then the other part of me wants to take it to the opposite extremes and doesn’t even want to think about the next steps in my life and only focus on the present. I want to spend quality time with the people who are close to me, drink way too much alcohol, try some things I wouldn’t normally try and simply enjoy the little time I have left here because once again, after 4-5 short months all of this will be a distant memory.

As graduation literally tugs at my shoulder, I have gotten better and more comfortable with both of these dissonant emotions and that I do not need to separate one from the other and in fact, when in a period of transition, the two feelings of wanting to let go and not wanting to let go are not necessarily distinguishable from one another. I have accepted this feeling of being in the middle of two life points and with talking to other people who have experienced this and are going to experience this, I understand that it is normal to feel happy, sad, afraid, uncomfortable and every other feeling in between.

I think the most uncomfortable feeling about transition is not knowing what exactly is going to happen. What if I move to Chicago and absolutely hate my new job? What if I lose touch with some of the greatest people I have met so far in my short life? What if I can’t pay off my student loans? How do I deal with and approach this new relationship that recently developed? The questions people ask themselves during a period of transition are all legitimate questions and ones that are appropriate to be concerned about, however, the answers are unobtainable until you quit actually asking the “what ifs” and just live and do. You won’t know how you will like the new job until you do it. You won’t know if you like a new city until you move there and you most certainly won’t know about how change will affect your relationships until the change actually occurs.

And college seniors let me tell you, this is all OKAY. We don’t have to have everything figured out by the time we walk across that stage and receive our diplomas. My eldest sister told me that there are times in our life for answers while some are for questions and when it’s time for the questions, we have to get okay with sitting with them and not knowing. The unknown and vulnerability of what we are experiencing and are about to experience is absolutely terrifying and extremely uncomfortable, but it is also in these moments that the best things come out of.

So, college seniors or anyone currently going through a period of transition, my advice to you as well as me is to enjoy the ride. Enjoy every moment you have left of the life you currently know with the attitude that the next phase in your life will be just as great, if not better. Think when it’s necessary but try not to over think. Live and let life direct you to where you need to be for it is in this journey that you will often find the answers. <3

Ode to Des Moines (French for "The Moines")

If you had told me 5 years ago that I would be happily living in Des Moines in my late twenties, I would have laughed at you a bit scathingly.  Consequently, this is a blog post about the limits of our own knowledge and the grace of the universe.

I originally lived in the Des Moines area while I attended college at Simpson for four years, and then for another additional year when I completed a year of service with AmeriCorps. I did not technically live in Des Moines during these years; I lived in Indianola. However, I went to Des Moines at least 3-4 times a week for one reason or another. I enjoyed Des Moines while I went to college, but by the time I was finished with my year of AmeriCorps, I was beyond ready to leave. Everything felt so tired to me- I was done going out in the downtown, I was done running into classmates from high school and college all the time, and I was done with the Midwest. In hindsight, I have the wisdom to realize that it wasn’t the city itself that I resented; rather, it was simply that I needed a change of scene so that I could have space to grow after college. However, at the time, I was beyond ready to leave the city of Des Moines behind.

And so I moved to Nashville, TN for three years while I completed my Master of Divinity degree. And afterward, I was once again faced with the decision of where to live. I had originally thought that maybe I would move somewhere glamorous, such as Seattle. I could get certified as a pastoral counselor there, and I had visions of myself living a cosmopolitan life filled with organic food, coffee, and the ocean. Another option…maybe I would pursue further academic work with a PhD!!! I could live in Dallas, Boston, Denver or Atlanta. All of the cities that offered a PhD in my field were some of the most well known in the country; they would certainly offer new, exciting adventures.  Or…worst case scenario…maybe I would stick around Nashville for a bit longer. I could continue to live in the country music capital of the world, and my imagination turned to visions of myself wearing the requisite cowboy boots that I had since neglected to purchase.

 None of those options happened. I have no doubt that if I had wanted any of them badly enough, or if they had been a right fit for me, that they would have easily transpired. But they didn’t. A series of events during my last year or grad school changed the opportunities available. (A story for another day, perhaps!) It’s hard to explain without going into extraneous details, but moving back to Des Moines just felt like the only feasible option available after graduation. I wasn’t necessarily dreading it, but it definitely was not what I had dreamed or planned for myself. Nevertheless, I had received a one-year job offer as a chaplain resident for Methodist Hospital, and so I decided to take it. I would live in Des Moines for a year, collect my bearings, and I would decide what to do from there.

In the end, moving back to Des Moines was a unique combination of a “breath of fresh air” mixed with the comforting feeling of “home.” And after living here 2.5 years as an adult, I have grown to absolutely adore and love this city.

I love the size of the city. On the one hand, it’s small for a city, and this means that it’s relatively simple and quick to travel from one side of the city to the other. For me, this actually means I can take advantage of more of the city’s opportunities because I have the time and ease to travel to them. For example, I can go to hockey games at the downtown Wells Fargo arena, and it doesn’t take a significant time commitment to do so. Additionally, it doesn’t take me long to get to and from work, and this means that I have more energy and time to commit to social engagements after work. And I love that three of my closest friends live within walking/biking distance of my own apartment, and I can run over and say “hello” whenever I like. 

And yet. Des Moines is also large enough that it has some amazing cultural resources. I still maintain that Des Moines has some of the best Indian and Mexican restaurants that I have ever had. We are one of the regional sites for the 2016 NCAA Men’s Basketball tournament. We actually have a pretty amazing aerial/circus arts entertainment industry; we are the host for the 2015 aerial exposition and competition. Oh, and of course, we always have the Iowa State Fair, which is on the coveted “1000 Things to Do Before You Die” list. J

And for me personally, it has provided me with professional opportunities that I could have never imagined. I’m finished with the original chaplain residency that led me to Des Moines, and I’m now the bereavement coordinator/chaplain for UnityPoint Hospice. This job is a perfect fit for me for so many reasons, and it was through my original experience as a resident at the hospital that I was led to my present position. And…I’m also an adjunct instructor for my alma mater, Simpson College! This is an opportunity that I’m fairly certain that I would not have come by in another city. I happened to run into one of my former professors, and she asked me about doing it. I did not have to go through a crazy interview process or much hassle in order to do it. Ironically, I always thought I would have to pursue my PhD to be able to teach, and then I ended up having the opportunity presented to me primarily through connection and happenstance.

I think that I have a couple of main points from all of this:

1)   I’m not saying that everyone should move to Des Moines, or that I couldn’t necessarily find some of these elements in other cities. My point is that I have had some amazing connections in this city, and I feel very invested in contributing to the flourishing of the community. I want that for myself, and I want that for others as well. For me, that community happens to be Des Moines. I love that I feel so fulfilled by my two careers. I love that I have many good friends here, and that if I had the energy, I could have social plans every night of the week. I love that I play in a weekly volleyball league. I love that I joined TGR and I’m doing circus fitness now. For whatever reason, the universe came together for me here, and it enabled me to have meaningful social and professional connections.  I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging. Believe me, if you were one of those individuals that had seen the wreck I was 3 years ago, you are probably clapping your hands right now as you read this post. I was due for some synergy.

2)   I think that this brings me to my overall second point. Many of the best things that have happened to me in my life were those that were either accidents OR things that I didn’t even realize that I wanted. My college self could have never imagined finding fulfillment in Des Moines, and I probably couldn’t have found it at that point in my life. I always thought that I wanted my PhD because I loved intellectual engagement, and I wanted to teach. However, it turns out that a life pursuing academia is not fulfilling for me, and I did not even realize it. I didn’t know this, however, until I was led past academia into living professionally in Des Moines, and I realized how much more fulfilled I was by a more well-balanced life.  It turns out that while I still value and enjoy intellectual stimulation, I prefer to spend my time with friends and hobbies as opposed to writing papers. And ironically…I still have teaching opportunities, even without my PhD. Life, God, and the universe can speak to us fairly loudly sometimes. And I think it’s great when we open ourselves up to things we had never imagined, and we let them speak.

If you live in Des Moines, what are your favorite things about the city? Have you ever had to eat your words before? Have you ever been surprised about where you were led in life?

P.S. Worst thing about Des Moines? The weather. I despise winter here. Although, to be fair, that would be my answer for any city above the ol’ Mason-Dixon line. J

  

The Emperor Has No Clothes

I was supposed to teach a course yesterday to members of the Massachusetts National Guard on Suicide Intervention out in Western Massachusetts. Needless to say, the course was canceled due to another FOOT or more of snow that we received on top of the TWO FEET we were hammered with last week. I was somewhat disappointed that the course was canceled because I was kind of excited to teach it for various reasons. First and foremost, I feel passionate about the subject matter. Did you know that according to a study by the Department of Veterans Affairs, approximately 22 Veterans die by suicide every day? Did you know that the suicide rate per 100,000 in 2013 was 28.9% for National Guard Service Members? Those are pretty astonishing numbers given that the national suicide rate for the United States is around 12%.

Additionally, despite a significant surge in training and awareness around the subject, the suicide rate for Reservists actually INCREASED in 2013. One of the ways in which the National Guard has responded to the issue is to train a certain number of Soldiers within the units to be “Suicide Intervention Officers.” Even though EVERY Soldier is trained via the ACE Program (Ask, Care, Escort) to intervene if his or her battle buddy may be suicidal, the Suicide Intervention Officers have additional training and resources. Suicide Interventions Officers are not only trained via the ACE Program but also through a two-day program called ASIST- Applied Suicide Intervention Skills Training. This is an empirically, research-based program developed by LivingWorks Education that has been used for over 30 years. It is highly effective and in my opinion, a very good program. In November I was trained as an ASIST Trainer meaning that I can now teach Soldiers how to be Suicide Intervention Officers.

So anyway, back to the story on how I was disappointed the course was canceled. This would have been my second ASIST course for which I was an assistant trainer. After teaching my first course back in January, I realized I actually REALLY enjoy teaching, especially if I know the material and feel confident about the subject. As I already stated, I am passionate about preventing suicide. I also really enjoy teaching this course because it is somewhat of a break from the “normal” military type of operations. In fact, all trainers and participants in the course are required to wear civilian clothes. Uniforms and ranks are not authorized at all over the two day period and I enjoy dressing up outside of the uniform every once in awhile. That creates an interesting dynamic amongst people who wear the uniform almost every single day of their lives for almost 20 years. People are a little shocked at first when a Captain calls them by their first name or introduces herself as “Molly.”

There are several different reasons behind why uniforms and ranks are not authorized during the training. I agree with all of them but will not elaborate on all of them here. One of the reasons, which may seem obvious to readers, is that many personal beliefs and experiences revolving around suicide are discussed during the two day period. The ASIST program’s success lies in the fact that it is based around group discussion and participation. It makes it easier to enable discussion and promote learning around a very sensitive subject when participants are not looking at ranks or dropping a “Sir” or a “Ma’am” every other sentence. I completely agree with this and have witnessed numerous highly emotional story sharing sessions as both a participant and a trainer. Taking off the uniform, so to speak, for training purposes allows people to share their stories and give all the not-so-pretty details about their lives to another person (theoretically) without fearing any judgment or dealing with the invisible barrier to conversation that the uniform or rank may create. Unfortunately, as Suicide Intervention Officers, Soldiers are embedded within the units and are most likely going to be wearing the uniform AND rank if and when they are approached by a Soldier who may have thoughts of suicide. Yes, they could be approached in civilian clothes off duty, but a majority of the time, especially as National Guard Members, we see each other over drill weekends in uniform. As Soldiers, we are taught to fight like we train so the whole no uniforms, no rank thing got me thinking…

There are legitimate reasons behind why we wear uniforms and why we have a rank structure in the military. Many professions require its members to wear uniforms. We cannot get rid of our uniforms so how can we notionally remove our uniforms and ranks thereby removing those subtle barriers to conversation and promoting a safe, story sharing environment? How can we make ourselves approachable by Soldiers even though we wear a uniform with rank? How do we create an environment where Soldiers feel safe confiding in us and asking for assistance with any problem they may have, not just suicide? Is taking off our uniforms and ranks the only way to create such an environment? Should we teach more subjects using the ASIST restrictions against wearing uniforms? Should we hold more meetings, trainings, and outings with our Soldiers in civilian clothes? No, I don’t think that is quite necessary and I am being a little facetious.  However, I think it is something to ponder. I think as leaders, as humans even, we can create such an environment without literally having to strip ourselves down.

To that end, I think that learning how to metaphorically strip yourself down is a life-long process that is never ending and never perfected and I definitely don’t have all the answers for how to do it. However, I do feel that it’s about exposing your vulnerable, “naked” self and allowing the other person (i.e. the person or Soldier who may be confiding in you) to really see YOU not your uniform, rank, badges, certifications, awards, titles, degrees, etc, etc, etc. It’s about not hiding behind possessions and accomplishments in order to avoid accidentally revealing a weakness. It’s about LISTENING instead of TALKING all the time. Let me tell you, most people with problems just want somebody to listen in this world that won’t stop talking. They don’t give a shit about your degrees or other qualifications so stop talking about yourself. It’s about being HUMBLE and learning HUMILITY - not thinking less of yourself necessarily but thinking of yourself less.

Anyway, I’d love to hear from you! In which environments do you feel safe sharing your story? How do we create these types of environments? How do we strip down from our uniforms and ranks without literally taking them off? Do you create these types of environments in your respective work place? How do we create these kind of environments for our families?

More than a Spectator

It is my first post of 2015. I will admit I am a little disappointed in myself because I don't have any earth shattering topics to discuss at the moment. For the most part we had a pretty uneventful weekend. We went to a car show, had a few beers at the old Mattress Factory, we took the kids to see the Paddington movie, and we went for a walk around the lake. The most excitement came on Sunday, when both of the kids were so horrible in church that I wanted to shrink down into the pew so I would not be associated with the terrors my kids had both morphed into immediately upon crossing the threshold to the church.

While we were originally going to go to De Soto Bend, that got thrown out the window as a consequence for the church fiasco when my son laughed out loud no less than 3 times and managed to surreptitiously eat all of Brooklyn's snacks out of her bag leaving her with none in the middle if a meltdown of near epic proportions. So instead of going to De Soto, we headed home where I spent the day doing experiments with Trevor with magnets and iron fillings that ultimately ended up on the floor and were impossible to clean up. (Thanks Magic School Bus!). Afterwards, the kids rode around on John's back (sometimes both at the same time) until it was time for bath part deaux since Trevor decided to "forget" washing his hair the night previously as he was in a hurry to continue watching a movie about mice getting flushed away. Apparently, it's a real barn burner so much so that personal hygiene had to be thrown out the window.

I am a little embarrassed to share all of this because it makes it sound as if my life is very boring.  We are not gone every weekend. My children do not have activities scheduled for every waking hour of their day. We have made the choice to not force or push our children into activities. My philosophy is that while the kids are young they should try many different things to figure out their own likes and dislikes and strengths and weaknesses. Trevor, who is six, knows the rules, and when she is old enough Brooklyn, who is 18 months, will also know them: If you try something, you have to finish the season but it is their choice as to whether they go out again the following year.  We have exposed our son to wrestling, soccer, baseball, gymnastics, boy scouts and Taekwondo.  He has expressed, however, that he does not really like any of these activities except for soccer, boy scouts and Taekwondo and even then an activity once a week is plenty for him. I am "okay" with this because my life does not revolve around whether my child is in the first grade basketball championship.

Many people say that their children's involvement in activities is driven by the kids. That maybe true and maybe my kid is just different and that is OK.  However, I have to wonder how much of it can really be independently kid driven. Or, is it based upon the affirmations the children receive from their parents for participating in the activities? Children have an innate desire to please their parents. So is it really kid driven if they are doing it to please mom and dad? Similarly, if it is the only time the children get to spend with their parents, then I suspect the child will stay out for that activity no matter what just so he or she can spend time with their parents. Or if younger siblings see the attention the older child gets for their participation, then do they also want to participate, not for the love of the activity, but for the attention it necessarily brings?

I also have to wonder what this cycle of constant activity does to the parents. I see parents looking haggard as they run from one activity to the next. I think to myself, is this really what it means to be a parent? To be a glorified chauffeur? Is having family dinner out of a paper bag from McDonalds really in the best interest of our families? Is this why, when kids leave for college some parents wake up and find themselves next to a stranger? Do we, as parents, encourage this over-scheduling because we do not really know what else to do with our children? For me, being haggard and tired usually means I am shorter and less patient with my children. I don't want that. I don't like that person. I like the mom who has time to laugh at her son's silly jokes. (Example: mom, am I saying Okay or spelling OK? Ok.) I like the mom who when she gets home from work has the energy to play hide and go seek with her children. I like the mom who can take her children to Paddington. I like the mom that goes to Sky Zone and jumps around on the trampolines with her children instead of sitting on the sidelines.

Yet, I worry that I am making a mistake because sometimes I feel as if my husband and I stand alone in this philosophy. We rarely see other families walking around the lake. When it is nice outside, we are one of only a handful of couples that can be seen playing with their children outside. We have asked other couples and families to do things, but the response is invariably the same: We have basketball, wrestling, practice, etc this weekend. I don't rule out that this may just be an excuse to avoid getting together with with people they don't particularly like (meaning us). But I also think a great majority of the time, it is likely true as well as a convenient excuse.

Don't get me wrong. I do recognize that activities teach children important lessons about life. But I also think there is value in learning how to enjoy and spend free time. I don't want to teach my child how to be stressed out all the time running from event to event. I don't want to teach my child that free time is a bad thing. I think there are important lessons to be learned in the family unit, too, and that these can't be learned if the family never truly functions as a unit. But, most importantly, I want to be more than just a sidelines spectator in my children's lives.