At a recent holiday dinner, I asked our friend, Warren, how he was doing.
He smiled big and replied, “I’m doin’ 98 & 2.”
With the torturous 6/7 trend running rampant in our home (thanks to my three teenage children), I was terrified by his response. Even though Warren is not a teenager, I was afraid he was “hip” to an even more awful number reference.
So when he asked, “Do you know what that is?”
I gave a non-committal head bob, hoping not to look too uncool.
Warren laughed, “Do you know how much 98+2 is? It’s 100. I’m doin’ a hundred!”
Oh, thank Heaven!
He was not sharing a new TikTok torture; Warren was referring to the fact that he was living life 100%.
I was (98&2)% grateful for his response.
The positivity of Warren’s equation for living life gave me something to think about. Usually, I feel more like my life equation is 2+8+15+25+16+14+12+6+3+3. Too many variables and not enough me.
What if I chose to reduce the number of ways I split my energy?Would the result produce a better me?
What about you?
If I asked you today how you are doing? Would you be able to answer that your energy is summed up by a healthy number of addends?
Good Boundaries and Goodbyes: Loving Others Without Losing the Best of Who You Are by Lysa TerKeurst screamed, “Read me!” from the shelves at the bookstore, library, and in my Amazon “Something you might like” recommendations. I added it to my WTR list and after a particularly disheartening week, I thought I’d give it a listen while Ubering the kids around. Yup, Amazon was right. I do like it.
I’m grateful I chose to listen to the audio version because hearing the words from Lysa TerKeurst’s actual voice made the message much more authentic and relatable, but it’s the words that have my heart aching for healthier ways to set boundaries for those I love and myself.
The crazy thing is that it took nearly to the end of the ninth chapter in a twelve-chapter book for my desperate self to realize my real problem. It’s not the expectations of others that fuel my need to establish boundaries. My issue is that I’m trying to build boundaries from the wrong end of the emotional gas gauge. I am full up on obligations while running on empty when it comes to inspiration, self-worth, and time.
Before listening to Lysa’s narrative, I believed that creating boundaries between myself and others could cause me to fail as a Christian. I thought refusing to give of myself as Christ did resulted in others not needing or appreciating me, and the best way to feel accepted and helpful was to run myself into the ground fulfilling the expectations of others. (If I’m killing myself to help, they will see my efforts and love me more, right?!?)
Fear of the unknown has to be one of the scariest things I can think of, but sometimes my inquisitive nature gets the better of me and I JUST HAVE TO KNOW. One such adventure presented itself on a visit to the Missouri Botanical Gardens. In one of the garden’s centers, there was a hexagon-shaped glass case, illuminated with red lights, and labeled “Vivian’s Burrow.” (I named it the “Hexagon of Uncertainty.”)
To discover Vivian’s identity, guests have to climb into the stand and view the burrow from inside the glass. There is no way to escape quickly if what’s inside that burrow is too scary. Its inhabitant will be right there, in your face, until you can wiggle your way back out. You could be temporarily trapped at eye-to-eye with uncertainty and your greatest fear.
I JUST HAD to see who Vivian was.
(Rachel was not as “curious” and did NOT venture into the “Hexagon of Uncertainty.”)
Me inside the “Hexagon of Uncertainty” looking for Vivian’s Burrow
I am not particularly fond of any rodent, to be honest, so I was slightly afraid that I was going to find myself nose to nose with some sort of mousey creature.
The topic of this post popped up frequently in some pretty impactful places for me in the last few weeks. It all started when I shared my feelings in the post, “I am Not Okay – Stuck on Repeat.” Seeking out help from nutritionist and trainer, Denise Coots, spoke volumes about how lost I was feeling. I had allowed myself to get to the point where I lost touch with my self-value and was exhausted by the disconnect. I can honestly say that meeting with Denise and the kind support of others who read my post has bolstered me significantly and life has been much easier to keep up with ever since.
My friend Sheila told me that she really appreciated my post and related because she sees a therapist to help make sense of her emotions sometimes. Sheila and I agreed that the negative stigma of seeing a counselor is so unfair. She beautifully stated that sometimes we need someone separate from our everyday lives to help us release everything we are holding in. We need a “trained release recipient.” I told her I LOVED that idea and needed to share it!
The following evening, I had dinner with my friend Tricia, who happens to be a licensed therapist. She and I always have a terrific time talking about our families, but after every visit, we agree that our times together are good for our souls because we discuss whatever we are struggling with emotionally and professionally. I mentioned to Tricia the stereotypes that people have about seeing a professional counselor and the fact that many believe friends and family are enough. She told me that very stigma is a constant challenge in her career and stands in the way of her attempts to help others find the healing that they need. And sometimes the family or friends that people open up to are like Lucy, from The Peanuts cartoons. They are willing to listen for a price or their prescription for getting better is to get over it. Clearly, those are not “trained release recipients.”
Two days later, I said hello to a fellow parent watching his child at gymnastics. I could tell he was new and nervous. He wasn’t sure where to sit and kept a vigilant eye on his daughter. I asked how his day was going. He told me, in an agitated voice, that all the people watching those little girls made him nervous, but he had promised his daughter he would let her try gymnastics on the day that he had custody. It was a statement that shared A LOT of information about his situation.
He had several tattoos on his arms, including two from the Army. I thanked him for his service to our country. He turned to me and told me I was really smart. I wasn’t sure how my gratitude made me intelligent, but I thanked him for the compliment. He told me that he knew I was smart because I identified the one thing that meant something to him besides his daughter.
He immediately told me he moved to Missouri to be near his daughter because her mother was from here. Continuing, he told me that he was getting medical and psychological treatment at the local V.A. Hospital. Without prompting, he shared that he never thought a therapist could help him. He always thought going to a psychiatrist made him seem crazy, but the doctors there were helping him feel like he could be normal and maybe find love again someday. Wow! That was A LOT of unsolicited information. Clearly, this dad was seeking connections with others, and the inspiration about “trained release recipients” continued to come my way.
If you have found yourself in a situation where you feel completely lost or need a voice of reason that hasn’t already spoken to you, I encourage you to find a “trained release recipient” who will productively listen to your problems and guide you to solutions. There is nothing wrong with asking for help from a certified therapist, counselor, or nutritionist. Seek out someone who has the skills and training to help establish a healthier, happier existence. Positive purpose is often found when you connect with someone who has the expertise to motivate your intent and energy in productive ways. Let go of the stigma of just-get-over-it and get yourself a “trained release recipient.”
By: Melanie A. Peters
P.S. Charlie Brown was on to something when he stepped into Lucy’s office; he was just a little misguided. He should sue for false advertising.
During my recent tenure as a substitute teacher, I had a student introduce me to the practice of stress shredding.
We will call that student Madddie.
Maddie was a young lady who seemed angry at the world most of the time. In one situation she jumped up excitedly as her classmates headed to the recycle bin to dispose of their graded grammar practices (a sad situation to be discussed in a future post.) It was her unusual speed and enthusiasm that caught me off guard. “Why are you taking your classmates’ papers?” I asked her. Another 8th grader piped up, “It’s okay, Mrs. P. She shreds to relieve stress.”
Interesting?!?!
Maddie had purchased a personal shredder for her bedroom and the practice of shredding paper brought her a sense of zen. I asked the entire class if it bothered them to have someone else see their grades, to which Maddie snapped, “I don’t care about their grades. I just care about shredding.” In a quieter voice, she followed up with, “It calms me down.”
The class didn’t seem fazed by the idea of someone else seeing their grammar practice grades, so I provided Maddie with a paperclip to hold the shredder fuel together.
Identifying paper shredding as a stress reliever seemed like a perfect Intentergy practice.
Maddie found a way to break down her anxiety by mechanically mincing paper. It’s in the beauty of finding simple solutions for fixing our frustrations that life becomes easier to manage. I have known people who grounded themselves folding laundry or ironing clothes, and others who re-established their sanity by cleaning windows or mowing grass. They find peace in the order and product of their efforts.
I derive my zen from pulling weeds and cooking food.
What can you intentionally do to tackle your stressors with simple repetition or a few minutes of focus?
Put some Intentergy in your day by relaxing with positive purpose in your shredding, folding, washing, walking, or filing. Be like Maddie and allow the Intentergy of your practice to help you get your bearings and bring you peace.
What basic practice brings you comfort or calm?
By: Melanie A. Peters
P.S. If your zen comes in the form of folding clothes or washing windows, I have piles of peace waiting for you at my house.
Change is something that comes at us at all different speeds. Some change happens in a instant. Other times developments modify our course gradually, and it isn’t until we’ve rounded a corner that we notice something is different.
Earlier this fall, I witnessed an unusual change. After coming around the bend in their county road, I noticed a small section of leaves had turned a bright yellow in the tree at the end of my parents’ driveway. Maybe it was the way the sun was shining or the striking difference between the yellow and green, but that one section really stood out.
When I mentioned the yellow spot to Dad, he said, “Yeah, I noticed it too; it looks kind of odd, but I guess all the leaves will be changing soon.”
Funny how we can see changes in the world around us more easily than we see oncoming transitions within our own lives. Often, we find ourselves or a loved one suffering from a serious condition, where there seemed to have been no warning signs. It’s odd how we can’t see the forest for the trees when many symptoms are waving the colors of change right before our eyes.
Right now, my family has fallen into the ranks of waging war with cancer in my father.
Yes, there were little signs that things weren’t quite right with Dad, like his unusual upset stomach at Easter, his more frequent naps, or the newly-found food sensitivity where he hadn’t had issues before. Never did we imagine those hints of trouble would lead us to a diagnosis of colon cancer. Once we eventually convinced Dad to go to the doctor, and had a finite diagnosis, it was like reality had stampeded a color run through our world, and we were splattered with a rainbow of tests, surgeries, chemotherapy, medications, and side effects. Who knew the colors of change could be so extreme?
Maybe it’s the frequently falling snowflakes or the walls starting to close in after nearly a year of COVID quarantines, but being easily distracted seems to a more common occurrence these days. Even as I draft this post, my mind has already wandered off to granola bars, coffee, the laundry in the dryer, and what the heck my kids are doing. (Deep breath. Focus.)
Have you found your mind wandering with greater abandon lately? Has it been tougher to hold tight to your train of thought? Well, you are not alone.
When I Googled “How to focus better,” the search produced about 2,890,000,000 results. Yikes! That’s A LOT of information on focus and why we struggle with it. Perhaps the fact that there are nearly 3 billion internet options tells us that we have too much at our fingertips. That abundance of information and distractions makes maintaining concentration confounding.
Intentergy 