YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR ENERGY (GIFTS OF TEENAGERS)

 Between working with our youth group and moonlighting

at a coffee shop, I've spent an inordinate amount of time with

teenagers this year.  

I love teenagers.  Really.

Like toddlers, they remind us of the magic and intensity

that is always surrounding us but that we've learned to ignore.

Everything old is new again,

we get to relive and reimagine our first semi-adult choices

through the lens of their fresh perspective

including our fashion, music and slang.

Teenagers get a bad rap and one of the reasons is that

they reflect our weaknesses back at us  

through an emotional megaphone.

They're are feeling everything and sharing some portion

of that intensity with their words, actions, and facial expressions.

Of course, adults experience all the emotions that teens do

but most of us have learned to shut up about it.

No one needs to hear all that even if it's screaming as loudly

inside our heads as it is in the teenagers.

Right?

Art made by my daughter (Trashpanda with a duck)

Don't think so?

I guarantee you have intrusive thoughts running around

inside your head during most of your waking hours.

Let's see if I can remind you.....

Are your jeans fitting well after the holidays?

How about your arms-bingo wings tight or flying free?

Maybe it's your hair (or lack there of) that sparks your insecurity.

How about the future?  Worried about your 401(k) performance

or the stability of your industry or 

whether your boss thinks you're a slacker?

How did navigating the holidays go 

with your family of origin?  

I'm sure one or all of those reminded you that

even though you're an adult,

you're not impervious to insecurity. 

After all, we're all human, with brains designed

to prioritize negative thoughts so it's

practically impossible to remove them.

Most of us adults don't voice this never ending litany

of anxieties out into the world.

It's just not acceptable behavior to move through the world

verbally cataloguing every feeling or emotion,

reacting like a pinball on the events of our lives.

But being with so many teenagers has reminded me

that a lot of us could use a refresher on effective and ineffective 

ways to manage these thoughts.

Teens say it out loud with words but a lot of adults

are still letting their anxiety seep out

sideways in moments where they think it doesn't matter.

If you're someone who is absolutely triggered

by teenagers and all their loud feelings

or reactive nature,

I would like to suggest that you might 

need this lesson too.

After all, the keys to the lessons we need are 

often in the things that frustrate us.

What am I talking about?

I'm talking about how many adults I interact with who are practically

suffocating themselves with inauthentic behavior

or lack of presence in the real world.

How do I know?

Oh honey.  It's so obvious when someone

is struggling, it's barely less noticeable than teen angst.

I bet you know too.

When the script doesn't follow the expected path,

when the car won't start or the washing machine leaks

or the waitress got your order wrong or 

your colleague asked you that question you'd outlined

in three previous emails...how do you feel?

I'm going to bet you feel frustrated or disoriented

but I'm also going to bet that sometimes you shove that down

and wait for it to leak out into venting with your best friend

or the silent car ride to work.

A few of you might be actually taking it all out on strangers,

blaming them for confusing you with harsh words under your breath

or vicious glares as you pass by them

or having righteous tantrums in the comments/review section of that business.

I get it.

I do it too.

Many of us learned to shove these thoughts down,

to lower the volume externally

and leave the gremlins to do whatever damage they want

to do in the protected prison of our minds.

Instead of healthy reframing, we learned performance.

Instead of direct communication, we learned to appease.

Instead of saying what we need, we learned to avoid.

Instead of navigating conflict, we learned to bully or complain.

This can be a fine short term strategy but it 

ultimately lets you (and those you are around)

down in the long run.

There's a better way to move through the world

but it requires good boundaries

and a rested soul to pull it off.

Here's the basic idea:

You are responsible for your energy.

You.

No one else.

You decide (or fail to decide) how you're going to show up.

It's a choice.

It's 100% on you no matter what excuses or

circumstances or trauma or triggers

or other people's bad behavior you encounter.

One of my favorite teachers, Laura McKowen

has a great set of phrases to remind us that it's not our fault

but it is our responsibility that you can find here.

Last time I saw my car before the great wait for parts 2022 (and 2023)

This feels obvious right?

Most adults will admit on the surface that of course

they are responsible for their actions but few

of us actually think about the energy we're bringing to 

those actions or how they might ripple into the world.

It can get hard in the chaos and relentless tempo

of this world we live in to remember to choose.

We remember to behave (which just means to perform)

in the stable moments that go as we expect.

We know our lines.

We hit our marks, do as expected and we call that success.

Owning your energy is a different level

that is clear and tangible to other humans

whether we want to admit it or not.

I guarantee you know if someone is authentically

present with you in an interaction

or if they are acting.

You are probably just too polite to call them on it.

And you might be hoping that no one calls you on it either.

Have you heard T-swifty's latest album?  There are some gems there.

I'm aware that even bringing this up sounds both smug

and a little too woo-woo for many of you.

As a teen, I learned to behave a certain way and that behavior

 is the most important thing for an adult to have.

I am an excellent performer

and I thought for many years that 

the performance was more than enough for this thing called life.

Even now, after working on #quitting this fakery,

I have a gazillion moments a week where 

my attitude threatens to run away with my intentions

and I find myself acting instead of actually meaning it.

I have to work on choosing my energy

daily.  Sometimes hourly.

Anybody else feel that way?

Want to stop?

Everything is better when you're authentic,

even if it's not perfect or instagramable.

Our washer recently broke and leaked this onto our downstairs ceiling.  If you're not laughing, we probably can't be friends in real life.

Which brings me back to what incredible teachers teenagers 

are for us adults.

Because they look like adults instead of big-eyed

adorable puppies anymore, we tend to 

 forget that they actually aren't mature yet.

Teens are drowning in hormones, growing and changing

in front of our eyes so fast it can be painful.

They get hungry, tired, and overwhelmed 

with the same predictability of any toddler.

When they reach their breaking point, they need to be hugged,

need to eat and rest and play a bit before they can 

do anything too serious again.

Their expressions of frustration or exuberance

are opportunities to remind us what it looks like

to be healthy, not just behave as if we are.

That the choices they make will impact our reality.

That there are better options than simply behaving

but that it requires intention and support.

Because as much as we'd like to deny it,

adults need all those things too in order to show up fully.

My dog Curry hiding out from the teens in our life.

Adulting is super hard-

because we are responsible for our own damn selves.

And when we aren't, there are consequences

the ripple past our own lives.

Barking at your children or your spouse

for little minutiae will bubble around your house

just like a bad stomach bug.

Biting off that waitress' head for a mistake

instead of asking for a remedy will get passed along to the next

exhausted, poorly supported person in her path.

Yelling at the car in front of you the whole way to work

will probably take minutes to dissipate once you reach your destination.

Minutes where you try to greet your colleagues with something

that doesn't come close to matching actual friendliness

even though you are 'behaving' by saying all the usual things.

That energy will roll out into the world

until someone chooses to hold a boundary with it.

That person should be you.

Choose your energy.

Choose your behavior.

If you can't align your energy and your behavior

then take a walk,

have a snack,

or a nap.

Once you're centered, take a deep breath and decide

how you're going to move in the world.

Intentionally.

My favorite teenagers cooking waffles on Christmas morning.

FAIRYTALE INCINERATION (REMAKING MY STORY)

 A week ago I finished the first draft of my first book. 

It's a love story, the only kind of letter that I can give

to the mother I am no longer connected with physically.

It spans about fifteen years of my life, starting at age 5

and (I hope) will give readers insight into what it's like

living with chaos as a constant-the impact

that has on children, the kinds of limitations people

who are raised in that system live with, and the unhelpful, predictable

ways that shame encourages people to behave

when faced with something that can't be 'fixed'.

While it would be absurd to claim that I knew the impact 

tacking my story down would have on me,

 my intuition started gently nudging me and then yelling at me

that it was the next right step and that I would regret not taking it.

So I listened and wrote several thousand words

to describe my experience.

I'm glad I did it but there have been some surprising results.

I didn't expect it to change and settle the pieces of my soul

in such a profound way.

I mean....it's my story right? 

I was there!  It happened to me!

It shouldn't be new or have layers that I didn't see before.

Right?

Whelp.  Turns out that is wrong.

Much of it happened around me or to me

before I had language or perspective or choice.

Pinning down the details, doing the research to confirm places, dates

and artifacts helped me sort out the things that felt more

fantastical than real.

It let me see the contrivances or caricatures that 

were presented as fact to explain heartbreaking disappointments.

It let me see the patterns and inevitability of repeated

behavior that went unaddressed because it would ask

bigger questions of the family system, the players within it,

and the structures that are supposed to protect or support.

Bringing everything into focus-abuse, trauma, mental illness,

poverty, pride, familial shame and systemic struggle-

helped me kill off the villains and superheroes that have

existed as shadows of the real people in my history.  

Instead of black sheep and angels, 

saviors and devils, 

main characters and bit parts, 

I have living breathing humans who wander my memories now.

Each of us is imperfect in our choices,

doing what we know to do in order to get our needs met

and failing in small and large ways along the way.

It's remarkably healing to count the cost and forgive the injuries.

To see the humanity within each family member instead of 

limiting them to a series of heroic acts or destructive choices.

Transformative even.

It's almost like Jesus really knew what he was talking about there.....

I'm not the same person I was when I started writing this book.

I like her-this newer, less reactive version.

Finishing the first draft is not the same as finishing the book

but it is an important milestone that deserves recognition.

I find celebrating personal milestones difficult-

particularly when the achievement is mostly going to be an 

internally recognized event.

If a tree falls in the woods and no one videos it or gets paid 

for the lumber, did the tree really fall?

Reward for a performance well done is mother's milk to me

so unlearning that as the point of everything I do will 

probably take 22 more years.

I may never make a dime off of this book.

It doesn't matter.

I've already earned more than I expected before writing it.

That lesson alone deserves a candle or some confetti or at least

an extra hike and a pumpkin spice latte.

Taking time to celebrate is holy ritual,

as important as broken bread dipped in grape juice

or heads bowed around a table.

As the boss of this life of mine, 

I ordered myself to take a week off from the work of my life (writing)

to let this milestone settle in my bones.

Much of being an adult (I've learned) is making yourself 

do things that no one else really cares if you do

FOR YOUR OWN GOOD

and by doing those things, we actually turn the world

into a place that gives two sh*ts about our own health.

We become the safety, security, and nurturing 

that we need in the world first.

Then we can do it for others.

When our cup is filled up, it will spill over.

During my work hiatus,

I had several shifts at my new paid service project,

smiled and laughed with strangers and new friends,

searched for and found GOD in the birds and the trees and lattes I served customers.  I had spiritual direction and therapy.

I organized a few life details that I'd been ignoring

like covid boosters and started watching Grey's Anatomy 

for the first time ever with my best girl.

As the kids would say, it's been FIRE.

(apparently 'lit' is oldschool now ya'll-keep up.)

Today, I will start the next phase of this book writing business

and for me that means I need to have the tangible 

paper copy in front of me to read from start to finish.

I have thirty four chapters and 134k words.  

I need to tighten that up to somewhere around 27 chapters and 100k words.

I'm looking forward to the artistic/business part of this effort even though

(or maybe because) it'll be a different kind of hard.

Yesterday I sent my draft to a local print shop so that 

I can be prepped and ready for reviewing the draft.

And I hit a brick wall.

The print shop lost my order, then lost their whole database.

It was a little chaotic and disorienting to send this work

of mine out into the world and have it be lost immediately

so I understand why I jumped into minimizing my need

to have this book printed on actual paper.

It doesn't matter after all...not to anyone but me.

I could probably still do the next necessary step if I 

just contorted myself a little

into something that made this easier for all of us.

I could do all my editing virtually, inside my docs.

Except it didn't feel right and I knew those first thoughts were lies.

I need the paper version to read it instead of trying to fiddle with it.

I need to know what the reader knows.

I need a physical copy to hold in my hand.

When the print shop manager called me 'baby' the sixth time, I smiled.

My working title for my book is 'Dollbaby' and I realized all this struggle

was God asking me a question.

Do I want this enough to push through the discomfort?

See, a very common fairytale that is alive and well in our world

suggests that if something

we want isn't super easy, then we should just give up on it.

If the boy doesn't lock eyes with you and forsake all other

possible women, then he isn't your 'one'.

If the job doesn't fulfill every single one of your professional 

aspirations (and your ego) then it's time to move on to greener pastures.

If the car won't start or you spill coffee on your pants or

you forget your resume, then you should just give up on that dream.

If we have to try, particularly in a way that feels uncomfortable

then we are in the wrong place, wrong time, wrong body, wrong life.

This is a lie but since it's different for each of us

and since we HATE to be uncomfortable more than anything

it's a lie that we fall for regularly.

We get close to the thing that is for us and then a little speedbump

convinces us that maybe we don't want it that much

or that road is not for us after all.

We decide that we took a wrong turn when we actually

finally found the path that no one can claim except one person.

You.

Or in this case-me.

See, no one in my family wants me to write this memoir.

The family members that are usually happy to promote my perseverance

over all the terrible things from my childhood

 have either attacked the content (that they haven't read)

or forcefully reminded me that this is not a good idea, that I should just

leave it all in the past where it can't hurt anyone.

There are a couple that are insisting that their experience

with a particular family member negates my experience with a particular

family member.

No one wants to know what really happened to me,

what made me into this high achieving person who 

thought all emotions belonged in a box and the best thing

she could do for someone she loved was hurt herself indefinitely.

No one wants to understand why addiction was a viable choice

for a child who wasn't loved or cared for by anyone.

No one wants to understand why mental illness can't be explained

away as bad behavior or greedy choices.

Once again my family of origin is deciding to pick shame over vulnerability,

death over healing.

They are allowed to do that.

I couldn't stop them as a child and I will not be using

every ounce of energy as an adult to bleed out for their comfort.

It is more than enough to realize that silence on this story hurts me.

It killed my brother.

It continues to haunt my entire family.

I won't hold it any longer.

I won't eat the sins of my forebears 

or pretend that they were all one person's fault

or stick to the story they all agreed on long before I was born.

I'm going to push through and talk about my experience.

I've been very careful to tell only my side of the events

and corroborate as much as I can with public records.

There is way more that I can't confirm or talk about 

because it is not my story to tell.

But what is mine, is mine.

I won't let anyone else horde it or manipulate it

or intentionally misunderstand it any longer.

It will see the light of day, one way or the other.

Even if I get sued or kicked out of the family or 

if unknown bystanders think I'm a freak.

I owe myself that.

I owe my brother that.

Probably I owe some other lost and lonely people that I'll never know or meet.

I can't worry about things that aren't my business

including what strangers on the internet think about me

or what my third cousin has to say about people who are 

either dead or estranged from me.

I had four visits to the print shop.

I had to email over the entire book.

Twice.

They printed me 80 copies of one single chapter.

I had to get them start over and do it again.

I made friends with the sweet manager who really

wanted to give me something 'extra' for all this trouble.

I don't think I was successful in getting her to understand that she already had.

I am not worried about the time or struggle to get over this part.

It takes what it takes and I'll work on it until it's right.

My next right thing is already waiting on me and I'll be working through it

for the next few weeks.

That's the first draft of my book.  Isn't she lovely?

I don't want anyone to think I'm recommending throwing yourself

at something impossible until you bleed out on the field.

Lord knows I've done my fair share of that so believe me when I say

there is a time to throw in the towel.

Quitting is a holy choice that needs to be in everyone's toolbox.

I'm quitting the fairytales and remaking my story,

I'm quitting the 'easy' button that takes me right back to 

the jail of workaholism and cleaning up,

I'm quitting shaving off essential bits of my makeup in 

favor of other people's comfort.

This whole year is about quitting what isn't good for me

so if you need to quit, DO IT.

I'm just trying to say that if the path you're treading is always easy,

if you never have to struggle or question if you should take an exit,

it's probably not your path.

Four lane highways, paved and maintained by the social structure

rarely take us all the way towards where GOD means for us to be.

I may spend some time on the four lane highways of life again

which might include some corporate work or following some scripts

that have been set down by previous generations.

I'm grateful often that those shortcuts exist and I'm privileged enough

to be able to navigate them.

But I won't be making the mistake of thinking that four lane road

is the best path towards what is meant for me

or that small detours imply I'm going in the wrong direction

when I finally make it into the wilderness.

Fairytales exist on the page to communicate simplistic

ideas to us that keep us within the lines of social norms.

They shouldn't exist in real life, walking around and 

interacting with us or as a blueprint for a life well lived.

Happily ever after is vague hand waving.

Let's be wild right now.

A little corporate humor for you...

A TIP TO REFRAME FAIRYTALES (ACCEPT WHAT IS)

A side effect of a childhood filled with near constant chaos is that I know how

to live through a lot of weird and disorienting crap.

I developed several coping mechanisms in my late adolescence

to help me waddle through situations that the fairytales didn't cover.  

Today's tip has been particularly

helpful when my expectations

for how someone should act or behave

isn't lining up with how they're actually acting.

While I've used this little tip on and off for years,

in the past weeks I've heard it come out of my 

mumbling, prayerful mouth at least 10 times a day.

Shock and grief have barrelled through my extended family

and friends and I find myself sending it to them

more often than I ever have before,

sometimes with swear words on the ends to give it 

an extra push through the heavy mists of grief.

This little ditty has kept me from extra suffering

and from doing several meme-worthy acts for many years.

Accept what is.

It's is a short way to remind myself

to stop over-romanticizing about what should be

or could be and just accept the data around me as accurate.

I can feel your chuckle from here.

Who doesn't accept what is?

Fuzzy headed nincompoops or naive little babies

are the only people who don't accept what is.

You have to accept what is!

Living in a fantasy land is totally ridiculous!

I never do that!

Bless your heart.

Telling yourself that you never do this

is in itself a fantasy.

Unless of course you're not a human reading my words

in which case feel free to impart some of your own cultural 

obeservations in the comments or my DMs.

On the wall at Cafe Diem, a great little coffee shop in PBO

Humans constantly tell ourselves all kinds of underlying stories,

a kind of collective experience to be able to tolerate

the bullshit that happens whenever two or more of us are gathered.

Here's a non-familial example for you to examine for a sec

that might illustrate the most benign version of what I'm talking about.

In the US, we all drive on the right

side of the road and stop at the big red octagons at intersections.

If someone drove on the other

side of the street or failed to stop at the stop sign, we would agree they are 

out of bounds, wrong, deserve to be fined and are acting dangerously.

This is a collective expectation of behavior that we've codified with law

and we reinforce with signs, infrastructure and consistent training.

If anyone argues that the car in the scenario above 

wasn't on the wrong side of the road

we would cite witness testimony, video evidence and damage to other

people or things to convince the confused party.

If anyone still insisted, they would be considered crazy or dangerous.

We would be frustrated that they won't accept what is

in favor of a story that rejects the facts or the data.

However, when it comes to human relationships 

we've got a different kind of dynamic going on in our western culture.

The closer or more intimate a relationship is supposed to be

the deeper the fantasy story is embedded in our psyche.

We have a collective understanding

of what makes up a family and the roles of each of the key members.

We also have a pretty robust outline of what kinds of feelings

each of those members have for each other based on their roles.

There are parents and grandparents,

children, aunts, uncles, cousins, and siblings.

These are the main roles right? 

We call anyone who has these roles 'family'

and then we make all kind of prouncements about 

what someone with this role feels, does, owes the other labeled people.

It's universal!  This connection is thicker than water.

Right?

Highly recommend this book-click here.

I have a very large, very chaotic family and 

when I was younger, I had a lot of suffering

because almost everyone in these roles inside my family

acted differently than I was taught to expect.

Sometimes the feelings and behavior and values of the people with these labels

lined up with what I was told the job description was.

But often, it didn't.

Wives who didn't respect or value their husbands.

Husbands who belittled or beat their wives.

Parents who neglected and abused their children.

Siblings who cheated, slandered, or actively worked against each other.

Grandparents who were neither wise nor measured.

Children who honored neither parent or themselves.

After several years of trying to reconcile the actual

humans in my life with how they were supposed to be

I gave up and decided to accept what is.

I quit trying to make the data match the story

and I accepted that the story might be wrong

or at the very least grossly over-simplified.

Parents don't always nurture and protect.

Women are not universally helpless, gentle or maternal.

Men are not universally aggressive, strong, or protective.

Deep emotions like trust, respect, and adoration are earned

with persistent action over time, not awarded blankly because of a title.

Everyone can make mistakes, some of them catastrophic, illegal 

or seemingly unforgiveable.

Unfortunately, we're all human and that means we're all messy

in some fashion.

There are collective expectations that we don't fit into.

Accept what is.

This also means that we often get some things very, very twisted.

There are a lot of people who equate violence with love

in a gazillion ways.

For example, if you love your children

and your parents beat you

then beating your child means you love them.

This is a false equivalency.

You actually don't EVER need to spank, slap, beat,

belittle, shame, or hurt a child for them to learn discipline.

Discipline is self control and you can learn it from other people 

who have self control in non-violent ways.

Growth is always uncomfortable but it doesn't have to be traumatic.

The fairytales make it more traumatic, not less.

The sun setting off the edge of the world at Ocracoke Island, NC (not a fantasy)

Many people have a hard time separating these fairytales from reality

because to call the physical or emotional violence

they experienced by it's real name would threaten

their underlying role of the parent they love deeply.

This is really hard to communicate in a straight way.

To say it more clearly:

There are a lot of people that still think beating a child

is a loving act because their parent beat them and to question it

would threaten the fantasy they hold of their parent.

It would also threaten the fantasy role they hold of themselves as a child.

It may threaten the fantasy role of the parent that failed to protect them.

It may threaten the fantasy role they hold of themselves as a parent.

It's a mess to try and accept what is!

I recommend a therapist to help if you are struggling here.

It's one of their primary gifts to you-the holding of the feelings

while you navigate the complexity of your family.

You can choose to accept what is instead of pretending.

That doesn't mean that you're judging or rejecting

or blaming the human person in that role.

I mean, you may do that for a while but in my experience

it passes pretty quickly once you stop trying 

to make the person fit into the fantasy.

It's much easier to forgive a real person for being human 

and making mistakes

than to forgive a super-human fantasy 

person who was supposed to be perfect.

I'm not saying this is easy.

It can be very painful-mostly because the story that everyone else

seems to share will never apply to the thing you're having to accept.

It is better though.

I notice that once I let go of my expectations

of how it is supposed to be, I can

 create something different to take its place.

Acceptance relieves me of my anger at what should have been

and allows me to appreciate what is.

I've applied this to so many relationships over the years.

Professional, familial, friendships and religious affiliations.

When things get complicated, I find it really helpful

to break it down into facts and data

instead of archetypes, shoulds and expectations.

It is always uncomfortable but it has improved my quality of life

immensely.

Accept what is.

About your family member who is also an addict, mentally ill, or just a jerk.

About your child who is angry at you for your abuse of them.

About your own failures and imperfections.

About your boss who really sucks at some things.

About your friend who keeps trying to hand you that crap.

About your religious leader who is struggling with affirming GOD's creation.

About your political leader who is putting power over your interests.

There will still be suffering, but it will be clearer 

and more accurately named.

A sweet note from my friend Elise with a few of her memories of Andy