Shopping Just Got Deep.

I have gotten a jump start on the holiday shopping this year. A few names on my list, year after year, I always have a terrible time buying for and generally don't enjoy the gift giving experience at all. I think I am finally starting to realize why, besides just chalking it up to the fact that they are "hard to buy for".

I realized this year that it's unfun giving to people who are totally self-sufficient. It's not necessarily about wealth even, though certainly only some people can afford to be self-sufficient. But, maybe the real joy in giving and receiving gifts is the interpersonal symbolism behind it -

From the giver's viewpoint: I have something you might like. I can offer you something. I am valuable to you because of this.

From the receiver's viewpoint: I like what you give me. You have something to offer me. I value you because of this.

By that, I don't mean that the value is in the object, or that people only value each other based on what they can/can't get. It's more about the relationship exchange. When you think about it, generally our most fulfilling relationships are those in which we feel used to our full potential. We inherently want to give of ourselves and our resources.

I feel happy when I cook something that Jesse really likes. Why? Because I think it's something I can offer that fulfills a need or desire of his, which he accepts from me. And I imagine he probably likes it when he can fix our cars and save us hundreds of dollars in mechanic fees. Why? Because it's something he's good at, a part of himself, that he can offer to me.

Why do jobs suck and get boring? Often, it's because the employee feels she has more to offer than what the company will let her. He can do more than answer phones. She can do more than data entry. Or he has great ideas for marketing, but they won't be heard because he doesn't have the right title or whatever the reason. And the best jobs? They are fulfilling because the employee gets to use their skills to contribute to something greater than self - even if that something is a corporation -it's still something.

And why is it hard for parents to see their kids grow up? Because the parents know the child is growing closer to independence. Someday, the parent will no longer be a necessity for the child. And when the grand kids come along and Grandma won't shut up with her "advice" - she's probably doing it because she wants to give of her experiences. She offers a piece of her history, of herself.

In some sense, our sole fulfillment in life comes from this connection; some delicate balance of giving and receiving whereby what we offer is accepted with joy and what we receive is valued as unique and irreplaceable.

But, the key in making it work is that we have to be willing to do both. We have to give, and we have to receive. And the receiving part, I think a lot of us are a bit rusty on. After all, aren't we supposed to be self-sufficient?

I know the holidays and gift giving is all kind of just a silly obligation to consume in the name of "holiday spirit", but I think it still boils down to the connection. And when someone is self-sufficient, providing themself with their own heart's desire and not expressing any of their wishes, it really sucks the fun out of it all. They are, in some sense, withholding of themselves, refusing to let you in. You don't know what to get for them, because you really don't even know who they are. You don't know what they like, because they won't share that with you. So you are forced to come up with some offering, blindly hoping that perhaps maybe you stumbled upon something that may have some remote sense of value to them. Because the fact is, maybe what you are really hoping is that you yourself have value to them.

I am probably making gift giving way too deep, and obviously, this may not apply to baking a nut loaf for your neighbor or being forced to partake in the office secret santa party, but - at least for me - there are people on my list that I really care about, and I really wish I knew better, yet despite my best efforts, each year when jingle bells start playing, I find myself sighing and plastering on a smile while we exchange obligatory, extremely meaningless gifts. So why do I keep doing it every year? Why do I spend my money, money that is often very tight, on something so meaningless?

Well, it's because even if my gift is forgotten, at least I can say I offered something. I tried. I put some piece of myself out there, and I was still open to the possibility that someday, maybe I will have a gift that matters.

And until that day comes, I will let my heart be thankful for the exchanges that do work; the ones where I see something at the store, and I think of this or that person, not because it's a cool object, but because I know them.

The Pattern of Life

I've thought a lot the last few years about career and family and what it means to be a woman walking somewhere in between (which I don't technically consider myself to be part of, because I don't have kids yet). Even so, feeling like someday I'll have to choose has weighed heavily on me at times. I think it is a pertinent issue for women in my generation, whether or not it's consciously on women's minds.

As I look toward the possibility of grad school, I feel very mixed. In so many ways, I want it to work out, yet there must be some part of me that would just feel all together relieved if it doesn't. The program I applied to is out of state, which I don't think I've ever mentioned on here before. So, to go means living apart from Jesse for a while (because of the house and other details), putting us in a harder spot financially due to the living arrangements plus the likelihood of more student loans and basically starting life fresh somewhere else - alone. But it also means a really, really good step toward building my career. To not go, means I'll most likely slink into some job that is just so-so and helps pays bills. But it also means being in the same place as Jesse and the finances feeling some relief since one of us would be done with school all together. Both versions of life have appeal and drawbacks.

I've been realizing more and more, there are very few "right or wrong" decisions in life. Most are just different, with different ups and downs. Of course, many have heavy implications - like this whole grad school thing for instance, would probably have a big impact on when we have kids. But, it's not like there is a right or wrong time to go through big life changes. Yet somehow, there is this pressure about right and wrong times in life. Not just for women, but people in general. For instance, if people aren't married by about age 30, they get a lot of questions or people trying to hook them up, as if something must be wrong, because they aren't following the right life pattern. Or if kids aren't had by x years into marriage, there is a lot of question and assumption. I've even been asked "Why don't you want kids?", a question based on the fact that I've been married a while and don't plan to have kids in the near future. Or not going to college right after high school, that was like the end of the world to some people when I announced I wasn't going - as if I had just given up all chance of ever graduating. And I remember this past holiday having a conversation with a parent who was deeply, deeply concerned that their high school senior child didn't want to go to college right away. But...universities are always open...even for people who aren't 18. So why is it that people get so bent out of shape when you (or they) don't follow the "pattern"? And who made up this pattern anyway? It's all so silly. And I've been very guilty of living by the pattern, whereby I put all these deadlines on myself.

Well, if we decide to have kids biologically instead of adopt, then the risk of birth defects begins increasing starting at age 30, and by age 35, well just forget it...but if I go to grad school, that hardly leaves any time to work in a career that I worked so hard for before I'd be nearly out of time to have kids and then I'd just be giving up everything I worked so hard to get in the first place... and so was the pressure of the pattern.

Now, I've realized that either way will be okay. If I go to grad school, if I don't - life will be dramatically different either way, but both options, in one way or another, get me closer to the life that I want to build.

I think I've finally realized, the most important thing is not what I do, but who I love.

And love can look a lot of different ways.

Warning to Men

Thanks to Dale for this video:

Relationship Riches

This morning, I was at my mom's house and grabbed some boxes from my old closet that I have been meaning to go through and clean out. Once I got home, I spent the afternoon sorting through them. It made me realize how crazy blessed I have been with getting to know some really amazing people along the way.

That has been the theme of my life lately: realizing the richness of relationship.

For years, my mom has bugged my Grandpa to write down some stories of his life in journals. Surprisingly, a couple months or so ago, he handed my mom a few notebooks. He had actually been writing down stories for years and no one knew. I read through them all twice. And each time, I was really taken aback with for one, the fact that my Grandpa is still alive (he served in a few wars and has insane stories from them), and two, how I wish that I would have been aware of the importance of listening to people and getting to know them when I was younger. When I went to the Philippines, I remember my Grandpa asking me a few times "Will you get to see such and such place?" or "Make sure you go to this place if you can." At the time, I didn't get it. No big deal. My Grandpa's just a history buff. I ignored all of it and didn't make one ounce of effort to go to any of the places he mentioned. Reading his journals, I finally got it. Now I know why those places are special and what they mean. And I wish I would have listened. To know that I was minutes from some of the places he mentioned, and didn't just go makes me kick myself. I was so close. I wish I had a photo to show my Grandpa and say "See, here I am at the same place you were fifty years ago." To be able to show that I listened, that I get it, that I understand a part of his past and where he comes from, and that we have this bond of knowing this place...but I don't because I just didn't listen. I didn't take the time to find out why he kept mentioning these places. I passed them off as irrelevant to me. Which, I'm sure is partially because I was 18, and let's face it, teenagers have stupid attitude. None the less, if only I would have known. And so now I tell myself not to let that mistake happen again. That when someone speaks, I need to listen.

My Grandma (other side now, my Dad's mom) was up cat-sitting while my Dad and step-mom were on vacation, so Jesse and I asked her if she wanted to meet up for dinner one evening, and when we got to talking, I realized that I didn't even know what town she grew up in. I didn't know anything about where she came from and what made her who she is, so I asked. And it was probably some of the best conversation I've ever had with my Grandma. And I realized, once again, what valuable relationships I have in my life right now that I just normally pass off.

And I wondered...what would life be like now if I had been paying attention all those years before? I don't want to miss out anymore. Not just with grandparents, but pretty much everyone in my life.

So back to how I started this rant...the boxes from my old closet. Mostly, the boxes had photos and letters in them. Some made me laugh. Some made me cry, and honestly, some made me want to give them dirty looks and say "f*ck you". None the less, what stood out most to me was that in many cases, I didn't know what I had. I didn't realize how very blessed and special it was that people let me into their lives...and a lot of people let me in. And I wish I would have cherished it more. One great thing about travel is that I met a lot of amazing people. The bad thing about travel is that it's intense, and then it's over. Most of the people in my "boxes", I no longer keep in touch with, but I finally realize how rich my life is that I got to see a glimpse into their hearts, even if only for a short time. There's Amy, who actually believed I was the patient, forgiving and loving one during our friendship, when it was actually quite the contrary. There's Dustin, who had a way of simultaneously freaking me out and making me feel nothing but warmth in my heart. There's Erik, who trusted me enough to tell me that he sometimes just wanted to die. There's another Eric who always believed in my innocence and seemed to want to protect me. There's Elizabeth who wanted to be around me and hang out even when I was incredibly rude and standoffish. Curtis, who had x-ray vision for seeing my every hidden evil motive that I would never admit to, yet still stayed my friend anyway. John, who watched me go from being a kid to venturing out on my own for the first time; his presence gave me courage. Angie, who taught me that who I am is perfectly okay, even though it's far from perfect. What strikes me the most though, is that I just don't get why these people were so good to me...why they trusted me with a part of themselves. I certainly didn't deserve it. But I'm thankful. I have this long, rich list of people who loved me into being who I am.

Today, I'm lucky that my list is dominated by Jesse, who simply feels like home; the best friend I could ever walk through life with.

So for everyone I've ever called friend, thank you.

YWAM

The U of N is putting up a new plaza area with all kinds of YWAMish symbolism and what not. The fun thing is, Jesse and I will have a brick in it with our names and the year we met there and everything. This is especially exciting, because now it gives me a really good reason why we should go back to Kona. (To see the brick and take a photo.) Here's the plan for how the plaza will look, which isn't radically different than what is there now, but it will definitely be chalk full of all kinds of new meaning and symbolism instead of just concrete and a circle with flags, which is the current state. I have to say, I do miss this place.

Good Bye

So our final goodbye to N was last week. It was weird and somewhat bittersweet. My brain has been so trained the past year, that every time I see a "kid thing" going on around town, I think of him. I kept doing that, even after he was gone. I wonder what N will grow up to be, how high school will treat him, if he will remember us when he's grown, and why exactly our lives were intertwined for the past year. I guess those are things we will never know. I do know I'm really happy for him and his mom especially, as I think being back near family is going to be a really good thing for them. N is a resilient and intelligent kid. 5 moves, all to new schools, in just the one year we've known him. Every time, it amazed me how he adjusted, and especially how he trusted. I am sure he had no idea of the complexities of evictions and finances and the toll it all must have been taking on his mom, trying to raise two boys alone. The parallel of adult life and child life in each move made me miss the freedom of childhood, before life bites you and tempts you to become skeptical, before you realize that the world can be cruel and mean. I hope for N, that he can stay a child for a very long time.

Great Minds Think Alike....Or not??

I knew Jesse and I were similar, but I laughed when I saw how my results compared to his results.

Lessons Learned

After living with Jesse for 5 1/2 years, this is what I have learned:

He thinks half cooked potatoes are the most disgusting food in the world. He will only turn in one direction when he sleeps. He likes the toilet paper hung in a such a fashion that it drapes over the front, and not behind the back. If you ask him a question and he doesn't know the answer, he will tell you an answer anyway. If you ever say "You're right", he will immediately respond with "I'm sorry, what was that you said?". He can do math in his head faster than anyone I know and he can fix anything that goes wrong in a house. If he says he will cook dinner, you can assume you are having a)chili or b)pasta, unless it's summer, in which case you are having a)grilled potatoes or b)grilled fajitas. He refuses to say "bruschetta" the way most of North America says it, and insists on saying it with the real Italian pronounciation. He prefers Coke to Pepsi. He has excellent teaching skills and he likes to listen to NPR (Canadian translation=CBC Radio).

Jesse the Role Model

Last night, we had N. We were chatting with his mom out by our car, when N came running toward the car, then stopped and mumbled he forgot something, and turned around to run into the house to get it. What he had forgotten was his hat. He doesn't normally wear hats when we are with him, but his mom told us that he wants to start wearing a hat so he can be like Jesse. (Ever since I worked at Zephyr and got free hats, Jesse now wears them all the time.) Anyway, she also told us that he has to get glasses, but he is excited about it because now he will really look like Jesse with a hat and glasses.

A Few Words Before Bed...

The last two days have been interesting, as many people have read and responded to Jesse’s blog post about his experience and feelings in regards to the US and Canada. There have been various responses from anger to indifference to agreement. While I could spout my own opinion here and explain the reasoning behind Jesse saying that I have been “deeply hurt” by this issue, that is not the intent of this post. If anyone wants to know any more about either of those, I’m an open book for the asking and would be happy to chat about it. However, in this post I only have one thing to say.

My husband is the most proud Canadian that I know. He loves his country deeply and would never ever deny it. It takes courage and great strength to live in a country that’s not your own and to walk squarely in the middle of two cultures, that while on the surface may look alike, but are in actuality, quite different. It takes even more courage to face the truth of those two cultures and see them in their entirety - flaws and strengths - and to in turn, love them both none the less. He has done this with grace and courage and I am proud of him.

Judging him for doing so is far more offensive to me than judging my country.

Good night.

How to Love Well

The other day at work a man in his 70's came in, and mentioned to me that he is getting a divorce. Last week, a woman, who was also older came in, and was in the same situation. In fact, a lot of people come in buying furniture and volunteer to me that they are in the middle of a divorce. Surprisingly, a lot of them are older, and have been married for years. This combined with some other things have made me wonder a lot recently - why do some relationships last and others don't? One of the simplest answers I've ever received regarding this was from my work study supervisor in Kona. He told me, very simply that "Any problem in any relationship can be traced back to one thing - at least one person is not right with God." I see his point and agree, yet in the "messiness" that is life, what does that actually mean and look like? Why has a man in his 70's not yet learned to be loved and to love well? Why do relationships ever end? And for that matter, what even makes them begin with select people? I personally don't believe in "soul mates" and I think "chemistry" means nothing. So is it just commitment? Surely it can't be, because even then, how many relationships are virtually "broken up", but just legally called "married"? What makes a relationship "good" or "bad" and who decides this?

5 years!

At this time 5 years ago, we were at the Loretto eating some yummy food and I was wearing a big white dress. Now I'm just wearing jeans, and I have to say, I am much more comfortable...lol! Jesse and I went out for lunch and then spent about 3 hours at Lowe's. That may not seem like much fun or romance to anyone, but for us, it was a very good time. We purchased this swing for our anniversary present. It's still a bit too chilly/rainy to set it up, but give us four weeks or so and I will be beaming in our backyard while sitting on it. Last summer, I don't know how many times we said "If we only had a hammock or swing back here..." The cool thing is, this swing folds down flat, so we could both nap on it, which we definitely plan to do this spring. Now, Jesse is out picking up a movie and the ingredients for banana cream pie. Yum. It's pajama pant, veg out time!

In keeping with the tradition of snapping a photo each year on our anniversary, here is what year 5 looks like for us...

Confessions

The other day Jesse and I were talking about the things that we did to "impress" each other when we were dating. It led into a pretty funny conversation about the things that people will do "for love". My confession (which Jesse has known for quite some time) is that I studied Candian geography, politics, and history when we were dating and then I casually worked my facts into conversation as if I just happened to know this stuff. (I didn't want to add any fuel to Jesse's "Most Americans are ignorant" fire, ya know?) Of course, now I don't really remember any of what I studied, except for this - the Candian national anthem became official in 1981. Not too sure why that one stuck.

Observations on Marriage

I thought this was an interesting paragraph in my sociology book:

In premodern Europe marriage usually began as a property arrangement, was in its middle mostly about raising children, and only in the end was about love. Few couples in fact married "for love", but many grew to love each other in time as they jointly managed their household, reared their offspring, and shared life's experiences. Nearly all surviving epitaphs to spouses evince profound affection. By contrast, in most of the modern West, marriage begins being about love, in its middle is still mostly about raising children (if there are any children), and in the end is - often - about property, by which point love is absent or a distant memory.

One of the most unexpected things that I have realized since being married, is that a great part of the joy of marriage isn't a feeling of love, but rather, a sense of commitment. Through the commitment, comes a deep sense of connection, regardless of whether or not romantic feelings are or aren't there. I don't know why that surprised me. I guess because all you do hear about is love...weddings are about love...and love this love that. I mean, nothing against love, it's obviously a very great and powerful thing, yet love in the romantic sense that our society uses it in, is not at all what marriage is about. The feelings may come and go, and certainly add a sense of excitement to a relationship, yet it's no wonder that relationships based upon this kind of "love" don't last very long and so many people wind up hurt and disillusioned when "love" fails them.

Anyway, so here's to my husband, who pulled the stinger out of my butt in Nicaragua when that bee crawled into my underpants and who never lets me clean up my own puke - your commitment to me brings freedom and joy that a thousand roses could never match.