Changing Chapters

One year ago I decided to it was time to take control of my life rather than allow it to control me.  Goals felt like a commodity I couldn’t afford.  Dreams were something from a movie.  Mr. Scrooge and I partnered in our outlook on life.  Bah Humbug!   This journey has been a walk of blind faith.  I won’t rehash what I’ve already discussed in previous posts.  This journey stretched me.  My determination has been tested.  The stubbornness that has always been my nemesis became my companion and friend.

In late July I received a text message alerting me that my dream teaching position may be available.  .  Life presented me with an epic challenge.  Would I dare to imagine my dream could blossom into a reality?  Welcome to the proverbial 11^th hour.  

The next thing I knew Monday morning dawned with an early morning interview.  There were 5 of them and only one of me, but I felt strangely confident and at ease.  Two days, a sleepless night, and 10 chewed nails later I received a phone call from a representative at the ISD HR office informing me that I had been recommended for a position.  We scheduled a time for me to come in, and I requested permission to ask a potentially stupid question.  I asked, “Does this mean I got the job?”  It did, and I do! 

In typical Hannah fashion, my entire life changed in only a few days.  Only a month ago I silently dreamed about teaching this school year.  Tomorrow, I step into the classroom that I painstakingly prepared over the past 16 days.  This year holds adventure, excitement, and exhaustion like I’ve not experienced.  Today I have no children.  Tomorrow I will have 184.  The struggle of this journey holds the massive doubts at bay. 

Tonight I will lay my head down as just another person.  Tomorrow, I’ll wake up a teacher.  My determination endured a boot camp. Now, it enters a war.  Bring it on!

Stepping Stones

Each step takes me closer to the dream.  Precisely at the moment I stand on the brink of caving to my fears, another stone arises and I see the next step.  Excitement propels me forward.  So, I leap.  I land.  I enjoy the moment, and then the doubts seep into my psyche like water slowly flooding a wooded trail.  I am forced once again to compare these raging doubts against the rock of reality.  Slowly, my confidence returns for a moment.  I'm always up for an adventure, but this is real life!


The past month my nails have been nibbled away as I have attempted to patiently await my test scores.  I began to check the site at the two week mark, which was the earliest they could have appeared.  Hope drove me to check daily, but the constant disappointment of no posting eroded my confidence.   Finally, a month later the email appeared in my inbox announcing that the scores had arrived!  Excitement caused my heart to race, then fear increased the pace another notch.  The "what ifs" came like a deluge, and I considered walking away until later.  It was only a momentary thought, and I quickly sought out a semi-private computer to take the plunge.  (Technically, I was at work and not supposed to be checking personal things, but I HAD TO KNOW!  Sorry about that, David.)


I experienced one of those proverbial moments when time stands still.  Seconds feel like hours.  The computer switching from page to page happened more slowly than it had ever happened before.  Then, the PDF file appeared, and I was assaulted by a list of numbers.  I investigated and digested the information before me, struggling to get my mind to engage and cooperate.  I caught my breath.  Could it be true?  I looked again.  If I were in a film, this would be the moment the "Hallelujah Chorus" would have been cued.  I not only passed the test, but excelled!  Insert exhale here.  I spent the rest of the day with my feet barely touching the floor.  I pinched myself just to be sure this was indeed reality.

Now, the victory has sunk in, and I have proceeded to the next step, putting it all into practice.  In only 3 weeks my classes will be completed, and I'll be released into the world of education.  Now, I have to find a teaching position.  Insert freak out here.  This appears to be the biggest leap to date.  However, I confidently say that the Lord has led me each and every step of this journey.  I'm astounded to see how the past 6 months have fallen into place. So, I'll keep stepping one stone at a time.

50/50

**WARNING: I feel some rambling ahead. Consider yourself forewarned.

I never intended it to take me 6 months to process all that has happened in my world to the point that I sat still long enough in my mind, body, and soul, to type another post.  In some ways I still find myself eerily speechless, almost numb. 

In my last post, I indicated that I was making a leap.  I did it.  I jumped, and I'm flying for now.  July 15th I will complete the initial requirements for my teaching certification, and will hopefully begin to teach in August...anywhere.  I'm not going to be particular.  I will merely be pleased with a teaching position.  Looking ahead with a lack of clarity is disconcerting for me.  Change is not my most favorite of things, but is coming and I'm excited-ish about it.  I just wish I already knew where I will be in 3 months.  This is where the trusting part comes.

Any of you who follow me on Facebook know that I have dedicated many of my posts to two sweet two year old girls fighting cancer.  Piper was diagnosed with infantile leukemia at only 6 weeks old, and spent most of her 2 year and 8 months on this earth battling a beast for her life.  Phoebe received her diagnosis on New Year's Day 2012.  An MRI indicated a large mass in her brain, which they removed mere days later.  Pathology reports revealed Phoebe is in the fight of her life against AT/RT cancer, a very aggressive form of cancer.  The doctors suggested to her parents that she has a 50% chance of survival.  This vapid unfairness led me to the question we desperately train ourselves not to ask, "Why?"  Little princesses are not supposed to have to face these battles.  They are supposed to make messes, play dress up, and get dirty! 

As I considered further Phoebe's prognosis, it struck me that each day we all have a 50% chance of survival.  Now, don't think that I'm being morose.  Just stay with me for a minute.  Every day that we wake we face a 50% chance of survival.  The odds are 50/50 that you will make it to bed at the end of the day.  We all face the fact that each day we will live, or we will die.  Most people out run the odds, and live for decades.  Others leave behind families forced to cope with the reality of 50/50.  Two girls with cancer.  Only one left to fight.  50/50. 

Piper's journey on this earth ended April 3 on a sun shinny afternoon.  Phoebe just started round 4 of her chemo treatments, and had some scary days in the ICU herself.  50/50. 

Each day we all face the fact that we will live or die.  Tonight I find myself sobered by the fact that I somewhere feel justified in whining about not knowing what my life will look like in 3 months, while my friend Susana, her husband, and child have to teach themselves to live life without their 4th part.  My other friends, Nathan and Amey, keep vigil with their little Phoebe attempting to continue to nurse life into her body, as poison is poured into it with hopes of killing the wretched monster trying to take another sweet girl.  They have 3 brave boys at home they have to nurture, train, and love while processing the choices of daily life complicated by cancer. 

Their lives were completely derailed in a day, and I'm whining about 3 months?  What is it I'm crying about again?!  My milk isn't even spilled.  It's still in the cup.  I haven't taken a sip of it, but I'm throwing a fit like a 3 year old because I may not like the way it tastes.  Dear Lord, forgive me!

50/50.  Back to that again.  I know this post has been heavy.  Honestly, I am not sorry.  I hope that somewhere in all of this madness something good arises.  Beauty from ashes, as the verse says.  I find myself constantly reminded of the verses in Psalms,
             ^"I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in
         the land of the living.  Wait for the LORD; be strong and let your heart take courage; yes, wait
         for the LORD." (Psalm 27:13-14) 

I'm not very good at waiting.  Patients has never been very high on my list of virtues.  During this time I shift my focus to gratitude.  I have so much for which to be thankful, and that gives my heart courage.

Fly or Fall

Well, that is a cliff I just leaped from, my friends.  Yep, a secure, solid, comfortable, predictable piece of ground that I just exchanged for unpredictability, the unknown, and the future.  It was an unnoticed step for man, but a giant step for Hannah-kind! 

While change has always been a bad word in my world, it seems to have become my constant over the past 6 months.  The only thing consistent is that everything is changing in my life.  For what I recall to be the first time in my life I'm floating down this river of change rather than exhausting myself fighting against it.  Could this be evidence of change, growth, maturity?  I hope so.  Sure, I still thrive on lists, order, and all things planned, but I have discovered an indescribable peace, internal chill, zen thing going on.  Honestly, it's perplexing and I often wonder if this is some sort of out of body experience.

Tonight I colored outside of my cherished lines and boxes again.  Actually, I'm coloring outside of them in two ways.  First, I applied for acceptance in a teaching certification program to begin in January.  (POTENTIALLY LIFE ALTERING CHANGE!)  Second, I'm acknowledging that I've attempted something before knowing that I've succeeded.  Shocking!  I constantly remain aware of the proverbial foxes running to the edge of my conscious mind in attempt to instigate the usual gnawing fears.  However, I'm doing my best to silence the fears typically accompanying the "What ifs" and unknowns in my world.  I'm reminding myself that I can only do this one step at a time.  I'll make my lists for the things that I can, and do my best not to fret over the things that I can't control anyway.

This is my update.  These are my big steps for now.  This is the latest update in my becoming...me.

Am I flyer or a faller?  I guess we'll see.

Finding the Lights

This evening I have spent more time in front of a computer than I have in weeks.  The only thing that I can attest to as an accomplishment is posting 35 photos to Facebook.  The remainder of the time wasted away as I mulled over how to release from my mind and spirit what is rolling around.  It should not be that challenging, right?  The past few weeks have held life-altering changes.  Surely, there must be something to say about all of that.  So much tumbles in my mind, that I occasionally experience a challenge in expressing my thoughts.  This is precisely where I found myself tonight.  There I was, seated before the computer, time to say whatever it is that I chose, yet unable to articulate it satisfactorily.  Frustration and eventually defeat best described my emotions as I rose from the desk chair headed for my room.

Then something quite simple and profound took place.  I left the computer and went down the dark hallway to my room.  Upon arriving to my bedroom's door, I groped for the light switch.  Instantly the lights turned on both physically and metaphorically!

As many of you know, change is a bad word in my world.  I thrive on lists, order, and all things planned.  Deciding in less than a month to change my world for the second time in less than 2 years was something vastly removed from my definition of ordinary.  But, I did it and I can't say that I regret the move.  This is one of those few times in life when I know I have made the correct decision.  Nope, there are no doubts. 

I adapt well, but adjust slowly.   This new life seems so familiar to me in ways that are perplexing.  Most of my mornings begin with two bony little-boy arms wrapped around my neck while we watch an episode of Sponge Bob before we rise to prepare for school.  My job, though the same title is at a different location, feels comfortable.  Being a daily part of my sister's family feels remarkably normal.  How is it possible that I can feel so at rest when this has been my normal for only two and a half weeks?  My analytical brain struggles to comprehend the peace my spirit seems to have discovered.  So, I choose take a deep breath and enjoy it for once in my life.  I rest in the confidence that the answers will come.   

I'm still distinctly in the process of forming my new life, but I'm moving forward with sure footing.  My eye remains ever focused on my long-term goal.  This time is a season for me.  I'll head to bed content knowing that while I'm still "finding the lights" in my new life, it all seems to be working out.

The Decision is Made

The past 15 months provided some of the most challenging of my 30 years.  I experienced somewhat of an identity crisis.  Most of my teen years were spent dreaming of one adventure or another, all things I supposed it would take a life time to accomplish.  Ever the over achiever, It only took me a mere decade to blow through them.  This left me with the question, "Now what?" resounding in my mind.

My entire life changed in May 2010.  Blog posts over the past months reveal some of the struggles this latest path of the adventure called my life have brought.  I've struggled to look deeper into myself, my relationship with God, my relationship with my family and friends in attempt to find the answers to the resounding question. 

Through all of this digging and searching I discovered that one of my biggest dreams has not yet been attempted.  This dream is one of the most scary for me to attempt because of the colossal leap it will require.  In order to do this, I will have to run and jump off of a cliff with the faith that I will fly.  Through all of this self-searching I have also discovered that the previous decade provided me the confidence to know that I can do it.  My mother has told me for years that the problem with me has never been a question of possibility, but rather a question of desire.  There are very few things that I have not accomplished once making up my mind that I wanted to do it. 

I have at last settled on where to channel my proverbial "want to".  One of my greatest desires since I was a young teen has been to be a missionary in Southern Germany, which morphed into a desire to teach English.  Well my friends, after much prayer I have decided to do it!  Do not get terribly excited yet as I will not jump on a plane tomorrow.  However, I have a plan of action! 

The end of October I will relocate to Wichita Falls, where I intend to live for approximately one year.  During this time I will work as much as possible while studying to get my TESOL certification, enhance my German speaking abilities, and make preparations to move to Germany.  All of the details will fall into place as the time is right.  I have such peace in my spirit and soul since reaching this decision, or giving into it seems more appropriate. 

A dear friend compared my journey over the past months to that of the book Hinds Feet on High Places written by Hannah Hurnard.  I was amused when she made this comparison because it happens to be one of my favorite books.  I am in the process of rereading it once more, and recommend it for any of you.

I feel once again that my life has a direction.  The out of body experience the last 15 months has been is over at last, and I feel like myself once more.  Stay tuned for further details as they unveil. 

THIS IS THE GREAT ADVENTURE!

The Power of Children's Songs

Change is my least favorite feeling in the world, but confusion runs a very close second.  Various announcements about things going on in my friends' lives over the past few days have left me asking questions.  The resounding questions are the ones that will ever remain rhetorical.

Leading the pack is "Are you kidding me?" question.  Then, follows the "What can I do/How can I help?" inquiry.  Then comes, "Why, Lord?" the grandfather of them all, and the one which most frequently remains unanswered.  Maturity taught me that I do not always have to have the answers, and that is acceptable.  

So, here I am asking these questions all over again.  "I just don't get it," resounds in my mind like an echo in a canyon.  I do not have the answers, but I have the comfort of knowing that I do not have to.  Selfishly I change the childhood song to, "He's got MY whole world in His hands," and somewhere a valve is opened that releases all of the emotions I dislike to be overtaken by a feeling of security.

He's got YOUR whole world in His hands too!

Different Colored Threads

In preparation for this post, I reviewed some of my previous ones.  I realized that the previous few posts have been about some of the important people in my life.  Well, I hope not to disappoint, but this one will follow suit.  I've contemplated exactly what I wanted to say as there is much I want to communicate.

A common theme on my blog as well as in my life revolves around relationships.  People come, and people go.  Some leave a brief impression while others leave an impression that will forever be a part of the components creating my muchness.  Each person's impression is woven into the fabric of my life in their own color of thread.  I don't remember the first time I met many of the people in my life, but there is one of my life-long friends who does not fall into this category.  I still vividly recall the day the Moore family came to West End Baptist Church "in view of a call".  My church needed a pastor.  Little did I know that he was bringing with him an 11 year old daughter who would become one of my best friends!

I still giggle when I recall her confession that she thought I was cool because I had Teen Spirit deodorant in my purse.  Hey, at least I smelled good!  Then, I think forward over our teen years spent together blundering through the years of becoming.  People sometimes compared us to Lucy and Ethel (I was Lucy) as we always had some brilliant idea in the works.  Her mom's kitchen was our laboratory where things like sour cream icing were created.  Yes, it's as disgusting as it sounds.  We could be found on the tennis court anytime we weren't at some type of church function.  As doubles partners, we were a fierce team!  Fried okra and Blue Bell Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream were always on the menu.  Hours of dreaming took place as we lay flopped across her bed, never really anticipating where the road of life would take us.

Now, 18 years later, there are other things that I appreciate even more.  Her home has become one of my favorite places to visit.  I walk into the door, and within 3 minutes part of me feels like the teenage girl all over again.  I can say anything, do anything, and be anything in her presence without the fear of judgment.  The performance mentality is checked at the door, and I have the pleasure of just being me!  

Today, I celebrate you, my Michie!  Thanks for all that you mean to my life, all the things listed and the personal things I couldn't. 

I knew I was right!

Humans love to celebrate.  We will party for almost anything, but few things truly deserve the effort of lauding.  About 27 years and 8 months ago my parents shared with me that a little brother or sister would join our family in July.  As a three year old I recall my excitement over having sister!  Little did I know that all of the doctor's tests seemed to indicate that a brother was on the way.  When my parents would discuss this with me, I adamantly refused to discuss anything other than my sister.  My mother shared with me that she was a bit concerned how I would react when she brought the brother home from the hospital. 

Then, July 6th, 1984, arrived and so did our baby!  As I predicted, and to the doctor's utter surprise, my mom delivered the sister I said was on the way.  I remember my daddy taking me to the hospital, and gazing at her through the glass of the nursery.  I observed that her hair was black like daddy's, and I was ready to take her home then!

There is no way that a three and a half year old can imagine what an impact one person can have on your life, but at 30 I can say that my sister has been the greatest addition to my life!  Our relationship has endured ups and downs, but we've always been there for one another. 

My sister believes in my dreams more than I do.  She understands my doubts and self-consciousness in ways that I cannot articulate, and don't have to.  When I say things like "k-k-k" she cracks up (yes, that's an inside joke).  There are more inside jokes than I can begin to list.  She always makes me laugh.  Her competitive drive is unparalleled.  NEVER play Monopoly with her unless you intend to allow her to win.  My baby sister inspires me!

I'm sorry that all of you only know her as friend.  I smugly pleased that I'm the only one who can truly call her sister.  Warning to the wise...don't miss with Carrie, or you have to deal with her big sister!

Happy birthday, baby sister!

My Own Steel Magnolias

The 1990 movie "Steel Magnolias" is arguably the best women's movie of our time, and quite possibly the best female movie ever made to this point.  "Steel Magnolias" is one of my most favorite movies that I have never tired of viewing.  I recall seeing it the first time as a young lady, and enjoying a movie about a group of ladies.  As I have matured, so have my perspectives on the movie.  The movie never fails to make me laugh and cry, almost simultaneously.  "Laughter through tears..." as Dolly Parton's character says to Darryl Hanna's character is one of the things I've grown to recognize and appreciate as an adult.  I now appreciate this movie for displaying the intricacies, and community, involved in female relationships.  So, in recognition of Mother's Day, I dedicate this post to my own community of Steel Magnolias.

I see many similarities between my mother and Malinn (Sally Field).  My dear mother has stood next to a hospital bed holding my hand more times than a mother should ever have to do.  Like Malinn, she's had doctors tell her there's nothing else medically available to cure the ails of her daughter.  But, like Malinn, my momma always refused to accept anything other than the best for me!  When I was 16, I endured a series of asthma attacks that nearly claimed my life.  I spent a week in the hospital, and she only left once when she knew I was safe in the care of a church couple who adopted us, and I call Grandma and Grandpa Williams.  My daddy told her it was ok to go, but it wasn't until I craved a cheeseburger from Whataburger that she dared to leave.  She wanted to keep me calm and happy, so that's why she left, to get my cheeseburger.  My mother never gave a kidney for me as Malinn did for Shelby, but she gave something more.  She gave herself.  Most years of my childhood she stayed at home caring for my sister and me.  She has the smarts to hold a lucrative job, but she stayed focused on us instead.  My mother seems sweet and passive during general interaction, but let me assure you that there are a few teachers and principals out there who know quickly she morphs into the protective momma bear when her children are attacked.  Even as an adult, I always know she's got my back.

Barbara Sandiford and Kim Kaufman are my Clairee and Louisa.  These are two classy ladies who have kept me basically star struck since I met them over 10 years ago.  Both are globe trotters who are always a phone call, text message, email, or facebook post away.  They are like peanut butter and jelly.  They just belong together, and are frequently linked in my mind.  I consider Barbara my spiritual mom, and therefore Kim is my spiritual aunt.  Both ladies have imparted to me a sense of style, organization, self-respect, Love for God, integrity, and many more characteristics than I have space to list.  These queen bees influenced my life during the years of becoming in a more long-lasting way than anyone else I have the honor of calling my friends.  Both Barbara and Kim will always have a special place in my heart.

Dottie Lewis is hands down my Truvy (Dolly Parton).  There is so much to say about my Dottie, so where do I begin?  While Barbara and Kim helped me to recognize the person in the mirror, Dottie helped me to discover how to use my giftings in the world around me.  Under her guidance, I learned to serve a pastor and his church to the best of my abilities.  She served as my personal editor almost every morning a paper was due, because I always waited until the night before the due date to complete the paper.  Yes, she always encouraged me to finish my assignments before the deadline, but eventually recognized that I did my best writing in the wee hours under pressure.  She acted as the driving force behind encouraging me to dare to chase my dreams, especially the ones that seemed impossible.  I applied for the summer semester in Spain as a result of her encouragement.  Dottie taught me how to fly with my own set of wings.  She is the wind beneath my wings! 

Listed above are only a few of the ladies who make up my personal grove of Steel Magnolias.  I look up to each of them in awe.  There are many of you who have influenced my life.  These are merely the tallest, biggest, and strongest magnolia trees in the grove of my life.  Today, I honor each of them for participating in molding me into the woman I see in the mirror.  I also thank the rest of you who make up the other trees in my magnolia forest.  You all know who you are, because if you are reading this it's likely you're a magnolia too!

It's a Mullet Sighting!

Yes, that is undoubtedly a mullet.  What I see is not one of those horrible haircuts from the early 1990’s, but those silly jumping fish I grew up watching in amusement while at the lake or the river.  Mullets randomly pop out of the water just for the fun of it I suppose.  I should have consulted with my marine biologist friend, Amanda, before typing this post, but alas I did not.  So, we will have to rely on my assumptions about the mysterious mullets.  The mullet I see is in my imagination.  The mullet in my imagination is me.  They randomly pop out of the water, occasionally ending up stuck out of the water and flopping around trying to get back to the safety of the water. 

Two weekends ago I spent some much needed time with some ladies who constantly encourage me, Mrs. Dottie Lewis and Mrs. Barbara Sandiford.  The more time I spent with these ladies, the more my world seemed to center itself again.  The world, my world, came more clearly into focus than I had seen it in seven months!   With such clarity I saw that I have been one of those silly mullets over the last few months.  I saw myself as the fish that popped out of the water, desperately flopping around trying to find the water again.  My life has seemed completely out of control.  Where is the blasted stream?!  Where is my direction?!   Both have been out of reach and certainly out of focus.  This was just the beginning of a weekend of revelations.

I experienced one of those life-defining moments of epiphany during a conversation with my dear mentor, Barbara.   I realized that I could no longer identify my dreams.  WOW!  This was a startling realization.  It was somewhat humiliating to admit to myself.  My dreams have always been something that oddly defined my drive for life, so I was startled by the revelation that I no longer had any.  I quickly decided it was time to sit down, seek the Father’s heart, and determine what dreams He has been waiting to share with me. 

I’ve started a new list of dreams!  Some of them scare me to even day dream about, while others cause me to stare at them with a familiar glint of determination in my eye.  I know I can do it! 

Everything is not better overnight.  There are still circumstances that are extremely challenging to endure right now, but I am reminded this is just a season of my life.  This little mullet is finally back in the water, and enjoying the security of the stream.

I hate falling

No, I'm not afraid of heights.  I merely hate the feeling of falling.  The landing part usually is not the best of experiences either, come to think of it.  After much contemplation, I realized part of the reason I do not like the feeling of falling because there is no way for me to control the situation.  What am I supposed to grab onto to change the situation?  Air?!  That does not work so effectively.

My description for 2010 is a year of falling.  The first 5 months were the run to the cliff of the month of May, and my life shifted in a dramatic way.  I jumped off of a cliff, and feel like I've been falling for the last 6 months.  As a falling person will flail their arms and legs in attempt to right their situation, I have not always gracefully handled the drastic changes.  The last 6 months seem to have flown past me just like the landscape does when falling from Dungeon Drop or some other dropper-coaster.  (Yes, these are my LEAST favorite of all rides!) 

The final evening of 2010 was something akin to landing.  I was the worst kind of mess.  Bruises, scrapes, bumps, and breaks decorated my mental, emotional, and spiritual bodies.  It was quite possibly the worst day of the entire year.  Thankfully, someone came to my rescue and acted as my soul's paramedic!  My sister is a nurse in more ways than just her profession.  The gift of her life remains one of the most precious gifts ever given to me.  She cleaned my wounds, patched me up, and sent me to bed.

As always seems to be the case, I felt so much better in the morning!  Yes, the injuries are still there, but they are healing.  The balm of love restores breaks.  The salve of encouragement soothes scrapes.  The ointment of belief shrinks bumps.  The liniment of care erases the pain of bruises.  Often in merely being ourselves we touch others in ways that we never fully understand.  So, my friends, I challenge you to truly be yourself in 2011.  Touch the world around you in a way that only you can. 

A Farewell Address

This is my farewell address to my 20's:

I posted on Facebook earlier today, "So this is what the last day in my 20's feels like."  A friend responded, "Doesn't it feel like the day before 20?"  What a great question!  Naturally, it prompted me to think and compare the two.

I recall such anticipation in turning 20.  Changing decades meant I wasn't a teen anymore, and that I had somehow survived something.  This survival also qualified me with a certain amount of experience, meaning that I was finally an adult!  My life was about to change drastically only 6 weeks later, and in many ways it was about to truly begin. 

I found myself in my 20's.  At last I began the journey of discovery.  Training in missionary outreach, traveling to India, studying in Europe, working in the ministry, earning a college education, enduring 9/11, moving to the big city all by myself, maintaining my singularity, and truly beginning to understand the value of relationships are all some of the most valuable milestones of my 20's.  Some claim that their teens were the time of my life.  Frankly, you could not pay me to return to my teens!  It will take me another few decades to conclusively decide, but I suspect that my 20's will always be the proverbial time of my life.  So, my 20's, I thank you for some of the best, and some of the most difficult, times of my life. 

Do I feel 30?  I am still not sure exactly how it is supposed to feel.  I do feel that you, my 20's, have prepared me for what the future holds.  I am not scared of entering the next decade, and it is only because you have so appropriately prepared me over the past 10 years.  Thank you for the amazing people you brought into my life to assist in my metamorphosis.  Thank you for a decade of growth and discovery.  Thank you for 10 years of "becoming".  I will spend a lifetime reflecting on your influence in my muchness.

Naming the Enemy

30.  It is a big number.  It is one that I have almost achieved.  It is one that seems oddly humorous to me.  So many dread this number, but from my fishbowl it is nothing to cause extra bubbles.  In fact, it is something that I want to face with the determined set of my head, and scrutiny that I use when new things arise.  New things mean change.

Ah, change.  My nemesis.  Change, the thing I fought with all of my being for more years than I willingly admit.  It was the thing that would waltz into a situation glaring at me with that evil glint in its eye, its head lifted in victory knowing that its mere presence sent me into a virtual panic!  Most situations I could handle in stride, but change always seemed to ruin my world. 

You see, I thrive on lists, order, and all things planned.  The Container Store is one of my very most favorite places to go to unwind and destress because everything fits into a box there.  Even if more items are added to life, there will be some type of storage found to create a place in the norm, whatever the norm is after all.  So now, Change may invade situations in my life, but in the past year I have discovered that I am not as petrified of it as I once was.  Every single thing that defined my life changed in a two week period primarily by my own choice, and I muddled through with minimal breakdowns. 

I have discovered that my life is not like a box of chocolates, but like the Container Store.  Things will change, but if I walk around long enough I will eventually find the box, canister, folder, file, or cubby for the new thing in my life.  While I still do not have a grand fondness for change, when it infiltrates my life, I now can lift my head just a little, glaring back at it with a bit of determination knowing that I may not like what it has to offer, but that I will stand on the power of knowing that there is a container for this little present that change has left me. 

A Dirty Trick

One question is avoided, ignored, and disregarded by any and all means necessary, "What if..."  We're programed that way, or at least we're encouraged by society to think this way.  Live with no regrets!  Don't question yourself!  This is part of the legacy of the 60's and 70's still infiltrating modern thinking, is it not? 
In the last few months I have had more time for watching TV and movies than in the previous 7 years combined!  I wake up.  I go to work.  I return home.  After enjoying some silence, on goes the Tele.  A few shows I had heard of, but had never seen, have now become those I seek out in the guide list.  I have questioned for some time why television is so popular in our daily lives, and I propose that I have finally discovered at least an aspect of the answer!

The reason we enjoy television, and stories in general, is because the question we've been taught to avoid is answered.  The "what if" question is addressed in one way or another in every movie, TV series, book, and commercial.  How, you ask?  It's quite simple.  Follow my thought process for a moment, and I'll provide a few examples.

Picture it!  Ladies in their golden years all live in the same city, but because of budget constraints of being either widowed or divorced, they all share a home.  What if these same ladies, who are all mothers and grandmothers, break the status quo for ladies of a certain age, and they really DO have a life consisting of something other than knitting, sitting demurely dreaming of their yesteryears, and steadily growing wiser?  What if they did funny things, stayed up all night talking, had money issues, and (GASP) dated?  EEK!  What if someone wrote this story?  What would it be?  How would it look?  Would anyone even care enough to pay attention? 

My friends, it would be one of the most popular shows to ever air on TV from 1985-1992 known as The Golden Girls.  Those four funny ladies showed that you can ask, and answer that plaguing what if question.  Within each episode another what if question is asked and answered.  Herein lies the basis of the entire dirty trick!  They tell you not to ask the question, but then spend billions of dollars repeatedly throwing it in your face!

Since receiving this revelation of sorts, I've looked a bit differently at sitcoms, dramas, and the like.  We love them because they dare to ask and address the dreams we avoid contemplating.  What if I were a doctor?  Watch Grey's Anatomy, ER, House.  What if I could travel around the world?  Watch the travel channel.  What if I lived in the pioneer West?  I won't even begin to address this potential list!  Do you see my point yet?  We're led to subconsciously ask ourselves a version of the what if question, and given the opportunity to dream for a minute.  You slip from your world into the what if world.

Now as I watch TV, I can't help asking myself, "What is the what if question?"  I've discovered that there are layers of this question asked and answered. 

Next time you watch something, look for the what if question that is asked and answered.  I dare you. 

Now, time for a special request.  I know some of you will read this, and not want to post comments.  I'm going to ask that you indulge me and do so just this once.  This is a bit of an experiment for me.  I want to know how this question effected how you "saw" the show, movie, commercial, or whatever it is that you're watching.  Just let me know.  What if you did?

From a fishbowl?

Yes, from a fishbowl.  For years I complained about living in a fishbowl, on display for everyone to see.  Is this selfish?  Possibly, but for as long as I can remember my father drilled into my head that my life is an example.  When correcting me as a child he would remind me that I had a baby sister watching and mimicking my every move and that I had to be a good example for her.  This well-intentioned parenting approach engrained in me that I am constantly an example to someone, and therefore in a fishbowl on display being observed by someone. 

Now, please do not confuse this statement with a complaint, for it is not.  Deliberation, contemplation, and intentionality all combine to serve as the additives for the fuel driving my life.  (Ok, I may have creatively made-up some words, but did not take the time to verify them.)  This "life from a fishbowl" prepared me to live life on purpose.  Live it too seriously?  Perhaps, at times.  Overall I feel that whatever I'm doing, whether enjoying an activity, working, writing, or procrastinating, is driven by a thought process concluded by a decision.  After all, I never know who may be watching, right?

The reverse side to the title of this blog refers to the glass pane from which I view and analyze the world around me as I swim round and round in my little bowl.  So, be forewarned!  At times you'll hear about life from within the bowl and what I think about life outside.

Some of you have requested many times that I start a blog.  I've fought joining this cyber-bandwagon as I fail to see any original thoughts I obtain which need to be shared.  I shared this with one of my friends who I've known most of my life when she encouraged me yet again to begin a blog.  I recall asking, "What do I need a blog for?  I don't have kids or anything important to keep up with in my life."  The answer seemed obvious to her as she very pointedly said, "Because, Hannah, you have things to say." 

Do I really?  I'm still not convinced, but I made a promise that I would begin a blog.  So, here we go.  I'm on the cyber-bandwagon.  This is my blog.