Music Monday: "I Don't Dance"

Side note: I know it says "Music Monday" despite being posted today (Tuesday). I was having computer issues last night. Better late than never! :)

Today's song, "I Don't Dance", is by Lee Brice. I originally came across this song after looking up another of his, and I instantly fell in love with it.

Before our wedding I tried so hard to get Tim to practice dancing with me so we wouldn't look uncoordinated during our first dance. He adamantly refused, and he would often tell me, "I don't dance." [Spoiler alert: When Tim tried to get fancy during our first dance and spin me, I tried to spin the opposite way...more than once...and we laughed our way through a good portion of our first dance.]

Fast forward a bit to the few weeks before our wedding. I told him he has to dance twice in his life and then I'd let him off the hook for the rest of our lives: once with his dear bride to a mutually-agreed upon song, and once with his momma. He accepted that offer begrudgingly. [For the record- my hubby has danced with me at least double that amount since then.]

There's something powerful about the things we do for the people we love -- especially when it challenges us to step outside of our comfort zone. This song captures that in a simple yet beautiful way.

Get(ting) Real: Vulnerability

There's a nearly overwhelming amount of excitement that comes with starting something new. There's hope for the joys and victories ahead. There's exhilaration that comes with having the courage and determination to get started and see it through.

On the other hand, there's also a certain amount of vulnerability that comes with new beginnings as well. There's doubt that your abilities will be enough to be successful. There's fear of mistakes to be made along the way. There's a worry about the outcome that could be radically different from the highly optimistic picture of perfect results you have in mind.

For some people that vulnerability is enough to quit trying.

I've never been a stranger to trying new things with excitement and enthusiasm --
kayaking on the ocean
playing clarinet
trying out for college theater productions
attempting to earn a solo in choir
climbing a mountain
sliding down a mountain in the snow
getting an eight week old puppy 
training dogs
taking a six hour Amtrak ride alone
walking through downtown Chicago alone for the first time (without getting lost!)
calamari 
driving a boat
leading preschool story time at VBS
gardening 
teaching
moving across the country
moving partway across the country
running power tools
making salsa
blogging for a year 
-- but I've also never been a stranger to that vulnerability or times where it has held me back.

I've been pushing myself to delve into hobbies more so I can be defined by more than my career. I never intended to let fear or vulnerability hold me back in life, but at some point I gave up on regularly pushing myself to feel that rush of excitement that comes with trying new things. It makes a huge difference when you lose touch with yourself that way, but it's also a huge difference when you bring that excitement back.

Two hobbies I've been diving into are watercolor painting and photography. I may now be the world's best at either one, but I love it. I love to feel that sense of exhilaration again. I love to feel wonder again. I love the feeling that comes with creating new things and learning new things. I still have that vulnerability, though, and that  makes it difficult to share the outcome of my time and effort -- even with my husband. Learning these new skills also means learning to be open and honest.

It means learning how to get real. 

I found this quote a few years ago on Pinterest, and I immediately wrote it down to put by my desk where I would see it every day. Sometimes all it takes is a nudge to remember the value in trying.

Park Games

We unpack the bag with the game, and I hope it will go better than it did with the kite. (Those puffs of wind that cooled us weren't enough to keep it afloat for long.)

I give a gentle toss, and we search for where the little, white ball lands. Our eyes squint as we differentiate dandelions past their prime from the top of the ball in the tall, sturdy crabgrass.

There. 

With our target in sight we take turns throwing.

Red.

Black.

Red.

Black.

My competitive side aches to win while the rest of me savors the sunshine, the breeze, and the company as we take turns getting points. 

An uninvited tick joins us - we take it as our cue to leave. 

As we pull away I realize I don't remember who won. I remember instead the joy, laughter, and relaxation as the pressures of life melted away in the summer sun while we played Boccie ball next to the lake. 

I'm sure that means we all won in the end. 

Get(ting) Real

"Get real."

I remember that used to be a phrase uttered when someone was being unbelievable -- like that they could climb all the way to the top of the tallest tree in the yard or hit the ball all the way out to the field. That was back in the times where life's big struggles included deciding between a bologna or pb&j for lunch or why your favorite pair of shoes (the jelly shoes with the sparkles in them) always gave you blisters no matter how few minutes you wore them on your feet.

"Get real."

That phrase now offers a nudge into truth and honesty. It is a challenge to own and embrace now for what it is rather than being frustrated or sad over what it's not. It's a call to opening up and exposing things I'd rather sweep under the rug than utter aloud.

We tend to let ourselves feel like we are alone in our negative feelings or experiences in a world that pressures us to be perfect in appearances and hide our struggles. We buy into the lie that everyone is more pulled together, happy, and better than we are. We brag about our ups while lying about our downs.

And you know what? All of this effort to project perfection is exhausting. In high school we'd finish a play and have an unbeatable rush of joy, pride, and excitement; this kind of performing is crushing. Buying into that lie took away my feeling that this blog was my safe place to be myself. And that's not okay.

So now's the time to heed the call to get real. This is my blog, and this is my life. It's not always witty, funny, or entertaining, but it's real.

Sweet Summertime

It's SUMMER VACATION!!!

I love summer break and the opportunities it brings to spend more time with family -- both near and far. We've planned a few opportunities for seeing our far-away family this summer, and I'm really looking forward to catching up with everyone. We also have some things we want to tackle together, too.

We've been out for just shy of two weeks now, and it's been busy! The first week was full of meetings, an out-of-town conference, and tying up loose ends on the classroom management front. I've been working on a few other projects for school that I've been itching to do -- whew, what a blessing to have the time to work on them!

Tim is keeping busy working on our basement project. I'm so thankful for my husband's dedication and his skills to tackle these handy-man projects to make this home fit our visions. We're looking forward to getting the tile for the bathroom so he can start that soon. The next step will be picking the paint color. So far we've agreed on most things for the bathroom on the first try, so let's hope this unprecedented renovation trend continues!

Tim and I worked on our garden this weekend. I learned how to use the tiller -- and guys, I felt like I could take on the world after tilling the garden. Power tools are SO FUN. We got everything planted, including some herbs in containers this year. I've only tried growing dill in containers last year, and it didn't really end well. Hopefully it will all go better this year. More on the garden later.

It's also been great getting to spend more time playing with the dogs. The weather's gorgeous again, and that means we've gotten to break out the bubbles again. It's also nice just letting them nap in the grass while we're working out there. The warm weather also means lots of shedding -- and more brushing. I definitely appreciate having extra time for that. Squirt may be small, but dude seems to have no end to the fur that comes out when he gets brushed.

To be honest, Squirt gave us a scare in February when he got very, very sick. He was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and put on meds, and he's been doing well since then. It has brought him to a whole new level of Old Man Dog, complete with doggy diapers and his own pill organizer. There's no set timeline with CHF, so I am savoring each day with my "first baby" and being grateful for how well he's been doing on his medication. I don't mind having extra time to snuggle with the little guy, though!

We've also been getting things squared away for me to have my tonsils and adenoids out. I'm so not looking forward to the surgery or recovery, but I'm really looking forward to no longer constantly having a sore throat. I think my hubby will be glad not to hear me complaining about my sore throat and asking him to buy more Fudgesicles. ;)

It's a blessing to have time to slow down to truly experience all of these things and truly enjoy the little things. It's a nice change from running on Survival Mode and moving down the checklist of things that must get done. This is what summer is for - being truly present in the moment and savoring it all. I used to think it was the sunshine and heat that made everything seem sweeter, brighter, and better in summer -- I realize now it's how summer's longer days give us more time and energy to enjoy the life we're in.

Reconnecting.

Have you ever had a time where you just paused to truly examine your life? Those are intimidating moments where you're forced to honestly analyze where your time and energy is going. You're either going to be pleased or disappointed with what you find in those moments. 

I've had a few of those moments, and I was disappointed to find that I was disappointed. I love teaching with all my heart, but I never expected it to consume me. Somewhere along the line I lost a lot of "me" for the sake of my profession. I don't regret giving my time and energy to help my kiddos flourish; I regret that I lost track of who I was outside of a teacher. I actually began questioning what it was I enjoyed outside of teaching because it seemed like the only other things I did beyond schoolwork were sleep and eat. It was a real wake up call when I realized how it impacted me to the point where I was sacrificing my own well-being for the sake of my career. 

God has placed so many blessings in my life. While those include being able to do what I love each day for a job, I know that using my gifts and talents to honor God go beyond my classroom. I know I'm meant to use them to be a good wife, daughter, granddaughter, friend, dog momma, and neighbor. I know I'm meant to have some hobbies that I spent time doing to rest and recharge so I can fulfill my callings to be all of these things to others. 

So what do you do when you've lost track of who you are and what you enjoy? You pause, pray, and make some changes. 

I recently heard a blurb on K-Love about how we can invest so much time in what we think is important that we forget to invest in what's really important. The speaker continued on to say that sometimes we have to do okay instead of great on things and let some things go to make time for things that matter, like time with family. 

I've been trying to put that into practice, and it's made it less stressful to decide to simply make note of an idea for next time I teach that lesson rather than trying to make magic happen the night before I want something. I don't have to act on every idea right now to improve lessons. I can wait to grade until the next day if I really need some extra time playing with the dogs to de-stress. I can go to bed early and leave some things unfinished. I can talk on the phone with my family instead of sweeping all the floors on a weeknight -- the fur will still be there come the weekend. 

I've had some time off for Easter break, and I have literally spent most of it crocheting and watercolor painting. I've also done my share of watching Netflix, listening to music, letter writing, and watching the Crane Cam to see the sandhill cranes. I've also gotten to help my hubby with our basement project. That's not to say that I won't tackle school stuff before we go back on Tuesday, but I don't regret investing time to reconnect with things I enjoy. I am taking time to be me, and it feels good. It's been too long. 

Way Back Behind the Starting Line

I'd tell you that I'd rather have plans change because I did something to mess them up, but I'm not sure that's true.

I'd tell you that I'd rather have plans change because of someone else or something that's out of my control, but that's not true either.

I'd really rather just have my plans stay just as they were to begin with.

But then again, maybe that's not true, either.

See, here's the thing:
There is beauty in the unexpected.

I'm working through some frustrations right now over having to miss out on something I was really, really looking forward to -- because life happens, you know? -- but I just feel like pouting about it and being mad for a while. I want to stomp and grump and be childish about it.

I'm taking this change of plans harder than usual because I had a plan and was finally ready to start taking steps on a new adventure. Missing out on this one thing temporarily robs me of my first step. It postpones the beginning of my journey, and I'm really mad because it took a long time and many factors to push me to the starting line with confidence and determination. I prayed and planned and sought advice and prayed and planned some more, and I mustered my courage, and now I'm stuck waiting again.

I'm still confident and determined, mind you, but now I'm pushed back 50 yards behind my starting line.

And yet...

Perhaps this extra time is what I need to prepare myself to do my best. 

Perhaps it's a call to focus my time and energy in some other areas for now. 

Or perhaps it was a chance to see just how much I want this new adventure to be reality. 

This is a temporary setback, but it's an opportunity for other things to happen. And usually when something else happens besides what I have planned it ends up being much more awesome than what I'd planned to begin with.

So I'll take some deep breaths, stretch a little more to get ready, and hit the ground running again when the time is right.