The Pancake

I don't remember how old I was, nor do I remember who all was there besides my family.  I think I was in middle school or late elementary school.  It was a pancake feed.  Small Town, Midwest, USA all the way. Omelet feeds, pancake feeds, potlucks, the church dinner, fish fries.  It was one of those kind of events.

Anyway, this particular pancake feed was in our church hall, and whoever was putting on the event had hired some joker from somewhere that had a big pancake griddle and seemed to think that not only was he a pancake turner, but also some sort of entertainer.  The most entertaining thing (to him) was to try to make people catch their pancakes.  Every so often, he'd flip one up in the air and the person in line would have to scramble to try to catch it on their plate.

Everyone was having fun, whether they caught it or missed it.  But at the time, I could hardly see that.  I was too busy being filled with dread.  What if he makes me try to catch it? What if I fail? What if my pancake falls to the floor while I look like a moron? The line inched closer, and I kept wishing for a normal person that would simply put the pancake on my plate so I could go eat it in peace.

Wouldn't you know it.  It's my turn and he immediately turns to me and tells me to try to catch it.  I said no, I wouldn't. He tries to convince me to just try. I said no, I put my plate down, and I stepped back.  The fool flipped it in the air anyway, and I watched it fall to the floor.  I picked it up, handed it back and he looked shocked.  He was sure that he would goad me into action; little did he know that the more you try to goad or guilt me into something that I don't want to do, the less likely it is to happen.

On the one hand, it is an illustration of just how obstinate I can be.  On the other hand, it is an illustration of my desire not to do anything unless I can do it right and do it without failing.  Notice what happens though?  My fear of failure leads to... failure. I am afraid that if I try to catch it, I'll miss and the pancake will be on the floor. So instead I just watch it land on the floor?  Yeah, that makes sense. The pancake totally did fall on the floor and I definitely looked like a moron.

I lined up my what ifs on the wrong side.  I never once asked myself, what if I catch it? It might have been a different story if I had at least tried.

Okay, this is a really nerdy thing to admit to, but I taught myself how to juggle one year. It took me a lot of time and a lot of dropping of balls, but really the only thing that's needed to juggle is to keep picking them up and trying again until you get it. (Of course, I could do that in my room without a single eyeball on me, but that's another story.) In juggling, a drop is a sign of progress.  If I got to where I could juggle a pattern well, I could do it with few drops.  If I started a new pattern, I dropped a lot, but I learned.

I've recently been trying to learn a little backcountry/crosscountry skiing.  Guess what they tell you? If you don't fall, you're not trying hard enough. If you don't push yourself to the limit, you don't figure out what the limit is, and you don't progress.

Guess what I've found out with rock climbing?  Yep. A fall is a sign of progress.  It means you've pushed yourself to try something that's a little above your skill level, but as you try again, you begin to expand your skill level.  My greatest strides in climbing have come when I am most willing to push myself and to take a fall if need be.

The other thing I've learned? Falling is really not so bad. Laughing with others as you flail in deep powder trying to get your skis beneath you and somehow get your center of gravity over your feet is a good time.  Falling off an overhang and swinging out is a reminder that my playground is a little different now, but climbing on stuff and swinging is still as much fun now as it was when I was a kid (though I definitely get dizzy much more easily now!)

The same holds true with other things as well, like graduating school (especially PT school), figuring out a tough diagnosis of a patient's aches and pains, continuing to hang out with people that I don't immediately connect with, but who eventually become good friends.

So to sum up, if you have to be stubborn, be stubborn about continuing to try even when it's hard.  If you're going to fail, at least fail trying.  If you fall, have fun! (Don't forget that bruises are badges of honor!) And in the end, succeeding when it's hard is WAY more exciting than getting it right the first time.



What about you?  Anything that you didn't think you could do, but kept going until you got it? Do tell! Or what's something that you are currently trying to conquer?

7 Quick Takes Friday

1) My next talk for RCIA was supposed to be confession in two weeks. But it got moved up to next week. Next Tuesday. Yeah, I haven't started preparing yet.  I'm thinking I should get on that. 

2) I decided to try Quaker's Weight Control Oatmeal.  I'm really trying to make more of my food and not get so much processed stuff, but this is just one of those weeks that I'm trying to survive.  I need something quick, and unlike all the other instant oatmeal, this is not drowning in sugar.  It's not bad.  It's not as good as some of my other, less processed options, but it's not bad.

3) Weeks like this (just really busy) are the weeks that I also turn to frozen meals.  Thankfully there are so many healthy ones out there now. Steamed meals and steamed vegetables  in the microwave (at least I bought some steamed vegetables... They're better for you if you actually eat it). Working out has not been happening much either, but I left my car and walked to some of my errands.  Sometimes it's okay just to try to survive.  It doesn't mean that I have to cave to some of my previous bad habits.

4) On my walk, I called my brother and actually got to talk to him.  I'm so proud of him right now.  I can't remember if I said, but my older brother and I used to be pretty close, but we drifted apart as we moved away from home.  I knew that he always went to Mass and at least didn't leave the Church, but it wasn't the most important thing to him for a while.  His faith is the most important thing to him now.  Some of the things that he said just really impressed me, and it's so awesome to see!

5) That being said, I would love some prayers for my brother's wife.  They met and married at a time that they both had a background in faith but neither were living it strongly. Suddenly he has some different priorities that she doesn't fully understand, and they aren't moving quite as much in sync. You should have heard the ways that he is working on it, though.  Like I said, I'm totally impressed. When I have some time, I'm going to have to write a little more.

6) So, here's the deal.  I know that 99.9% of my fellow bloggers are well aware of Marc Barnes at Bad Catholic, but I know that there are a few IRL friends that haven't read him yet.  He's on fire recently, and I thought that I would make very easy with some link ups of some of my favorites from his recent ones: How to Love Your Neighbor, In Defense of the Unmiraculous - Why Science Doesn't Disprove Religious Experience (really, really good!), The Terrible Weakness of Our God, Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus- The Smackdown (this one's for you, T.), and How Descartes Ruined Sex. Yeah, I know that's a lot of them, but what can I say? I cannot pick.

7) I have more I could write about, but I really would rather write longer posts about them, if I can find the time. Until then,

Have a great weekend, and head over to Jen's for more Quick Takes!

Dear Husband

This is a rerun from a couple of years ago. (A couple years?! Have I really been blogging that long??) It speaks to what I am thinking and feeling tonight, so I thought I would repost with a few minor updates.

Dear Husband,

Are you out there?  Do you exist?  I am trying to be patient (I am!), but it's not easy for me.

What are you doing tonight? Busy night with friends? Work?  Do you like to crash on the couch and watch TV?  What do you like to watch?

Are you older, younger, tall, short? Shy or extroverted? What do you do for a living?  Most of all, who are you?  What makes you tick?  What makes you passionate?  What makes you angry?  What are your quirks?

Waiting for you has been one of the hardest things that I have ever had to do in my life.  Every day when I wake up, I hope that this will be the day that we finally meet, that the waiting will finally be over.  I've heard people say that when you're ready it will happen (and no, I haven't punched any of them in the face, no matter how badly I wanted to).  I am ready, I can tell you that with confidence.  But you know, it is possible to be ready for Christmas early, too, with all the presents wrapped, cookies baked and decorations done.  You can be ready by December 18th (though if you're a typical guy, you probably usually aren't), but Christmas still doesn't come until the 25th.  Sometimes, ready or not, you still have to wait.

I'm actually really glad that I had to wait for you.  Not always.  Some days I see the blessings, and some days I can't stand it.  But in the end, I'm glad that I have had this time.

I'm glad I had a chance to discover the part of me that was an outdoor nut, waiting to come out.  I'm glad I got a chance to learn that in skiing and rock climbing (and life!) a fall is a sign of progress. I'm glad I got to discover the joy of creativity in writing and photography. (They may be in small ways, but they enrich my life.) I'm glad I've gotten a chance to have deep friendships that have allowed me to learn how amazing it can be to be open and vulnerable before someone and have them love me all the more- not less- for it.  I'm glad that I've had a chance to come to a whole different understanding of what it is to be a woman, and to begin to see love as a gift of self.  I'm also very glad that I have had to find God in deeper and deeper ways over the last couple of years.  I'm glad that I had to learn in a whole new way that He is enough, that He is the source of my true worth, and that He is worthy of my trust.  Believe me, these lessons that He has taught me have made me ready for you in ways that I didn't know that I needed.

I still need you, though.  God has created this hole in my heart, this place just for you.  I am probably one of the most blessed people on this planet.  He has given me amazing family and friends, a job that I love and plenty of interests to fill my time.  But my life isn't completely full even with all of this.  You're still missing.  I can't wait to share it all with you, and to have you share your life with me.

I hope.  I hope that you are out there and that we will meet soon.  I hope that we will enjoy time spent together, either alone or with family and friends.  I hope that we will have as many children as God as planned for us (whether that number is big or small) and that we will be faithful to bring them up in Him.  I hope that our marriage will be a light for those that are struggling in the darkness.  I hope that our love will spill out to the rest of the world and make it a better place because we are together.  I hope that you are a little goofy.  I hope that growing closer to each other will make us grow closer to God.  I hope that our conversations can range from deep to nonsensical.  I hope that we laugh a lot together, even if no one else thinks we're funny.  I hope that you will stick around long enough to get to know me, even though it sometimes takes a little while to get through my outer shell.  I hope that I will give you a chance, because I sometimes don't like people the first time I meet them, just because I don't know them yet. I hope you like my cooking (and I can cook, even though right now most of my meals come prepackaged from the freezer).

And when I say that I hope, I don't mean that I wish really hard that it could be so.  I hope with trustful confidence that God has a plan.  It doesn't mean that I know what will happen (who can know the mind of God), but I hope.

I think that you will be different than what I picture, just because I think that reality rarely meets exactly the picture in our mind.  I think that's most likely because my imagination is too limited to capture the essence of who you are.  I don't know what it will be like to know you, but I think that it will be better than what I imagine.  Not better in a fluffy clouds and rainbows kind of a way, but rather because reality, with all its ups and downs, attributes and imperfections beats ephemeral fluffy clouds and rainbows any day.

Anyway, just wanted you to know tonight that I'm thinking of you and praying for you. 

Holding onto the Rope

I stood on the smallish ledge, looking over the wide canyon.  I was anchored in, so I could enjoy the crazy blue sky that can only be found in the mountains and the action on the trails below. It was fun to look at the people below, and some were looking back.  I saw one lady taking pictures of us.  Due to a trick of acoustics in the canyon, I could hear conversations and amused myself trying to figure out which group was saying what.

Then I turned back to where my climbing partner sat parked on the rock and tried to quell my impatience. Due to the unseasonably warm weather, we had decided to forsake the gym and try to hit the rock instead. (This time of year, I'd rather have cold and snow- too many fun winter activities to do!- but you do the best you can with what you've got.)  As I waited for her to make her next move, I reminded myself that being on the rock is always much harder than standing at the bottom of the route. On the bottom, the angles always look more gentle and the hand and foot holds always look larger than they really are.

She climbed fairly well, if slowly, as she readjusted to that type of climbing. However, she was not comfortable on the rock, so she kept grabbing the rope, clinging to it. I was sympathetic to that impulse. When you're uncomfortable on the rock, and you're having a hard time finding a secure place for your hands, the rope is so solid and present and safe.

From my secure perch, I yelled at her to let go of the rope.

Yes, I understood why she'd want to hold onto the rope, but it didn't mean that I was going to let her do it. It may feel safer to hold the rope, but as the belayer, I have to feed the rope through so that she has enough rope to make the next move, and I have to keep it tight enough that if she slips, she doesn't fall any farther than absolutely necessary. I need to make adjustments quickly, and I can't do that when she has a death grip on the rope.  Although she may feel safer and more in control, she is taking away the safety and control I can give her as her belayer.  She is actually making it more difficult and less safe for herself.

She let go of the rope and eventually continued to work her way up.  I looked at her and the impossibly blue sky behind her, and I wondered. What am I desperately clinging to that is really making it harder for me? What areas of my life am I not letting go and allowing God to guide me safely where I need to go?

When I Grow Up...

I finally met the person that I want to be when I grow up.

I met someone today whose goal is to get better partly so that she can keep going to her work outs with her trainer and her work out partner.

She's 88. Her work out partner is 93.

Love it!

In other news, Baylor is no longer unbeaten!  Way to go Jayhawks!

The Tattletale

I was that kid, the kid everyone hated.  I was the tattletale.  In my defense, I'd like to think that it wasn't from an inherent need to be right, or at least not only because of that.  It really has more to do with the fact that there are rules!  That are being broken!  GAH!

This rule following thing is something that I blame on my German heritage.  When I do, people usually nod and act like my entire personality now makes sense to them.  I'll take it, if it makes them a little less annoyed with me.  Because, I admit it, I am still that kid. Perhaps that's why I like my job; I can tell people what rules to follow to get better. In my climbing group, I have the reputation of being (according to the nice ones) "detail oriented."  That is to say if you are breaking the rules a little, or compromising them in any way, I will call you on it.

In most areas of my life, I have learned that it's not always the right thing to point out when someone is obviously wrong.  I do not run up to people in the gym to correct their mechanics, no matter how badly I want to. (Seriously, though, if your back is really moving while you do biceps curls, quit trying to show off and cut the weight a little bit! You're not really making the guns any bigger, and you are going to hurt your back eventually!) In many areas of life, I have started to learn to keep my mouth shut.  However, in climbing, I let this character trait come out in full force, and most people don't mind.  It keeps us on our toes, and (I'd like to think) keeps us a little safer.  Luckily, a lot of the people I climb with also like to cross all t's and dot all i's in the climbing arena.

However, when we were out on the rock the other day, a group came up and set up next to us.  Not only did they not follow the rules, I don't know that they had any rules in the first place!  A couple of them did just fine getting up the rock (better than me and my climbing partner, actually), but their safety was atrocious! I still haven't figured out if they were woefully ignorant or egregiously negligent, although I have to assume that it was some combination of both.  Let's just say that when I saw the set up they were using, I started to run scenarios in my mind of what I would have to do in case they fell off the rock.

Here's the thing, if the bottom of the climb is on a ledge, anchor yourself in. That shouldn't be too hard to figure out, people! Even if you're on the ground, you should be anchored in if you're belaying someone heavier than you.  Here's the other thing, when one person climbs up anchor the rope at the top so other people can do that climb, there are certain things that anchor should have. Things like carabiners that lock, so the anchor doesn't come out of the bolts at the top, and so that the rope doesn't come out of the anchor.

When we were taught some basic anchors, we learned that you should check every part of than anchor to make sure that if one part failed, there would be another part to back it up.  They actually had us imagine cutting each part of the anchor to see where the rest would hold it.  If it didn't pass the redundancy test, we don't climb on it.  The people next to us? Their anchor could have failed in 3 places, they didn't have locking carabiners, and if it would have failed in any of those places, it would have been all over.  And when the fell? They'd be taking their belayer down, too, because the belayer wasn't anchored, remember?

Dang! I know rock climbing can still be dangerous when you do it all right, but why the heck would you get out there when you're doing the whole thing wrong?!

After watching them, I am a little traumatized.  They had some older, more experienced people in the group (which means they'd been climbing longer than me, but kudos to them for not breaking their necks sooner.) Because of that, I didn't jump in to tell them everything they were doing wrong, but now I wonder if I should have maybe tried to find a tactful way to say something.

My takeaways from all this:
1) Just because someone tells me they've been climbing doesn't mean that they're someone I'd climb with.
2) I'm even more grateful for the really good, really safe instructors that volunteered so much time to teach us so much stuff.

The Smallness of God

I have believed for a long time that atheists' concept of God is too small.  I watched a video the other day that added more fuel to that particular fire.  This atheist told us that just as he had outgrown Santa Claus, he also outgrew the fairy tale that God exists.  I'm sure he had a number of reasons for that, but what he described was a last prayer that he threw out to God, asking God to reveal Himself.  He concluded that since God was not powerful enough to make a light flicker, God must not exist.

I'm left shaking my head.  I don't even know how to answer that! I think that we have made God in our own image, and given Him super powers or magic.  He's apparently the ultimate good guy hero.  Only, He kind of seems to fail a lot at saving people from suffering of all kinds, and He's kind of a coward, because He certainly doesn't seem to show up when someone challenges Him. Really, if He's any kind of God, why wouldn't He show Himself?  I know few people- Christians or atheists, Democrats or Republicans, pro-life or pro-choice, or any other opposing viewpoint you want to name- that can resist the argument or proof that puts us on top and reveals them to be the dirty, lowly ignoramus's that we always suspected them to be.  How could God, when given the opportunity to prove His superiority, turn it down?  Why would He hide Himself when He could show forth His glory?  Surely, the only answer is that He does not exist.

Yet- can you imagine a relationship based on the right light flickering at the right moment?

The more I think about this, the more I wonder if the problem is that our concept of God is too small, or rather that it is not small enough? We forget that God's thoughts are so far above ours, and that His ways are not our ways. We forget that He is not made in our image, but we are made in His.  But we also forget that the God of the universe was willing to be born in obscurity, in a stable. We forget that He was willing to suffer pain, humiliation and death for us. 

Why would God hide? Perhaps because His need to allow us to choose Him- His need to give us room to love Him- is far greater than His need to prove He's right and that He is.