Why "Step into the Arena"?

There are a few things that inspired this journey, but here is the cornerstone of the reason that this is entitled Step into the Arena:

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

-Theodore Roosevelt

I am no longer going to be the critic, or the person who stands outside the arena... waiting for the day when I am good enough, strong enough, brave enough...something enough.  I'm stepping into the arena...daring greatly, without fear or shame.  

Step into the Arena

The past year has been...interesting.  This time, last year, my family faced an uncertain future, but felt secure that everything would be fine.  Here, a year later, and not only is everything fine- life is better than we could have imagined.  My husband is at a fantastic new job that he loves, I'm continuing in my career at The Mommies Network, and our little girl grows taller and smarter every day.  This life is almost unrecognizable, and my life is wonderful.  But as the year has passed, there has been a gnawing sensation....a growing unrest... and a realization that there was something that was holding me back from being whole...something bigger than money and career and love.

As the year passed, I walked closer and closer to the problem, making new discoveries along the way about who I was, who I have become, and what led me here.  A few particular instances and moments gave me glimpses at this larger problem, but I couldn't really see it.  Until I did.. and then it was blinding.

Sometimes you can be whole, but still be broken.  You can function, but not be fulfilled.  you can be great, but not be well.

In a moment of clarity ( brought on by a moment of absolute breakdown), I realized something fundamental about myself...something life changing.

I live my life in perpetual fear.

My only motivator is fear.

Everything I do is the result of fear...and shame.

The details of the reasons for this may matter to me personally, but they don't in the context of me chronicling this journey, and I will explain why.  What I have discovered is that it doesn't matter.... almost all of us have something that does this to us...makes us live in shame and fear.  My details don't matter because it doesn't change the end result, and it certainly doesn't change the solutions.

I'm going to be walking my way through this process of healing here, labeling the posts with the topic at hand, and listing them on my Step into the Arena page.  Please feel free to read, comment, or use anything you find.  I just want to share this with the world...and putting myself out there is a part of this.  Being honest, being authentic, and stepping into the arena.  Feel free to step in with me.

The Beauty of Faithlessness

Inspired by the diatribe I just left on a fellow mommy's Facebook page, I have decided to clarify a few points about how the faithless exist, and why being faithless makes sense.

There a millions of blog posts out there that cite reasons why religion shouldn't be believed.  Historical concepts, conflicting accounts of biblical text, issues with accuracy and proof that being "of faith" doesn't make you a good person.  I don't know that any of those address a gnawing problem that those "of faith" have with the faithless.

" How can you exist without faith?"

Wow...big question- I know!  The truth is that faith gives the faithful something.  It makes them whole and gives them a sense of peace in a world full of chaos.  This is something I understand, even as someone who is faithless...and it's might be the reason I hold on to "agnostic" with two tight fists, instead of jumping right off my fence onto the atheist side.  I will explain.

I am envious of the faithful.  I don't know that you can have children and not be.  Here is the truth:  I want there to be a heaven....I want there to be a god....I don't want there to be a time where I'm not with my child, and should she or I pass away, I want there to be a way for us to be together again.  That is a testimony to my love for this child.  That is unshakable and more real than anything that has ever existed.

But... I want a lot of things.

The truth is that faith gives peace to that kind of love.  It makes it okay to be scared, and it makes the fragility more palatable.  It lessens our vulnerability.  It's a safety net for the worst that life can bring.  It punishes the people who do wrong and it rewards the people who do right in a world that often doesn't.  It allows us to sleep at night without being terrified that it can all slip away.  The deepness of that kind of love comes at a cost, and the cost is being constantly afraid it will leave us, and faith gives us the ability to not really pay that price.  I want that...but, again, I want a lot of things.

So, to the faithful, imagining a world without that seems pointless and sad and hopeless in a way that they can't even imagine.  Trust me, I feel that sometimes...but even the most faithful feel that sometimes.  I'm not here to describe what despair feels like.  I'm here to describe why the faithless don't live in a state of constant despair.

" If there's no hereafter, there's no point in trying"

This is a largest fallacy that exists in the minds of the faithful.  I've often heard it cited that without faith, there is no reason to do good, to fight evil, or to strive for being better. There is one glaring problem with that:  this perspective dictates that this life is not enough, that our place in it is insignificant, and that good is only worth something if the doer of the good deed is rewarded in some measure.  For this, I have some questions:

- If you knew tomorrow that there was no heaven, would you never do another good thing again?
- Is your intent for your good deeds a reward?
- Does a good deed cease to be good if there is no reward?
- Is your battle to be a good person only measured against the punishment of being a bad person?
- Do you not ever want good things for others just because you want it?
- Do you not think that you have the capacity to make life better?
- Finally, who is the more moral person: the one who does good because he wants to, or the one who does good because he is rewarded for it?

With all of these in mind, I propose this:  I am a good person without god.  I am a good person without fear of punishment or promises of rewards.  I do good things, and every time I do, I am taking a risk that those good things will either impose good into the world, or they will not.  I do good things because I see the worthy of this life and the people that inhabit it.  I am good not because god told me to be, but because I want to be, and my "good" could come with no reward at all.  I am not kind to you because someone or something told me to be, but because I think you are worth being kind to and deserving of good things in your life, and that is the only reward I will receive.

" I know God is real because I have seen him make my life better."

I have heard this one a number of times.  Would you believe me if I told you that I have a good life?  Seriously- without god(s), I have found love, happiness, success, fulfillment, and joy.  I live a very very good life... and the credit goes to the people who made that happen.  Those people are not invisible or secretive or off in another realm.  They are flesh and blood.  They are me... my husband...my child...my mother...my sisters...my brother... my friends... my employers...my teachers... strangers.  Those people made my life good, and I do not for one instant want to detract from what they have done for me.

In fact, since really finding my agnostic side, and letting faith slip away from me entirely, I've been a much happier person.  When I did explore areas of faith, bad things happened to me.  In the last 20 years, since I've been faithless, less bad things have happened.  I've seen bad things happen to people of faith.  Using this rational, having faith actually makes you more likely for bad things to happen. I've seen not believing in god working in my life!

Now, clearly I don't mean that... total hyperbole.  But, let's try this on for size:  Good things AND bad things happen to you regardless of what you believe.  If something good happens to you, it was going to happen no matter what.  If something bad happens to you, it was going to happen no matter what.  Just for a moment, let's stop thinking that good and bad are related to somehow to something else, and just accept a reality.  Things just happen.  We are far too easily swayed in some idea that one thing is related to another.  If my house is robbed tomorrow, it's not because I didn't pray, and it's not because my house is tan, and it's not because just the other day I said "I've never been robbed" and didn't knock on wood.  My house got robbed because a series of unconnected events led someone to my house to rob it.  That's it...end of story... shit happens.  There is a pattern, and the pattern is chaos.  There is nothing wrong with embracing that.

I have seen, several times, where people have " praised God" for something that is entirely man-made.  Too often, I see praise for god in medical situations... that god intervened and made someone who was sick better.   Well, there are two points I have to this.  First, you misspelled "science".  That medication was the result of the efforts of people...people who sacrificed time from their families and time for themselves to give you something amazing that would heal that sickness.  By George...it's almost like their good deeds were the result of them wanting good in the world without reward!  Is it "kind" or "good" of us to heap praise onto an invisible force when there are real people who deserve credit for these things?  I have seen people throw money at their church for their answered prayers, but nobody is getting into their car to drive to Cleveland to shake the hand of the scientist for all of their hard work to create that medicine.  In my faithlessness, I am able to see those people for what they are- a flesh and blood "blessing" that I can give proper credit to in this life.  THEY make my life better.  They are beautiful and amazing and worthy of the praise they deserve.

They took a risk...they poured everything they had into giving other people more moments together in this life. Under the ideas of religion, it was all "for a reason" and it was in god's hands, so those professionals- scientists, doctors, nurses... had they embraced that idea, would have just walked away.... because clearly they can't compete with the power of god's plan!  Interesting how "god's plan" is only apparent to us after the fact, and "our plans" don't really ever play a part.

There was a Frontline special on assisted suicide I saw a few years ago, where a man with ALS flew overseas to have a physician assisted suicide.  At some point he said ( I'm paraphrasing) " People say that killing myself is interrupting God's plan.  I tell them that if I went by God's plan, I wouldn't be in a wheelchair and I would have starved to death long ago because I can't swallow.  It's only through science and man that I'm still alive.  God would have killed me long ago."

My second point is a much more serious one, and it is really the inspiration for this post.  A mom I know, that I wish I could call "friend", but unfortunately, I've only had the chance to meet her a few times in person and so "Facebook Friend" is a more accurate description, lost her baby girl a few years ago.  She "lost" her faith ( although, I would argue she found something else) after this horrific experience, and on one ( slightly drunken) night when I did get to hang out with her, she told me what made her an atheist.  She told me that, while her child was sick, while there were HUNDREDS ( if not thousands) of people praying for her daughter, people told her that god would provide and heal her little girl, and in the aftermath of her daughter's passing, she was hurt and angry at the idea that her daughter was not "chosen" by god to heal.

To the faithful, I want you to absorb the enormity of that and do the world a favor; Please do not tell a person in the midst of a crisis that god will intervene, because if and when that doesn't happen, it is devastating.  Then, to backtrack, and tell her that "there's a reason" or to tell her that her baby girl is an angel being taken care of by god... her "creator".  Let me very very clear about this.  This mom was this child's creator.  She held that beautiful little girl in her belly for 9 months.  She loved that child before ever laying eyes on her, and continues to love her with a deepness that is unmatched by any invisible force.  She earned the right to see who that little girl would become and to say that her being robbed of that right was 'for a reason" and that some invisible force gets to enjoy her little girl, while the mom just gets to suffer in her grief and loss....I'm sorry, but anyone who has done this should be ashamed of themselves, because you have allowed the band-aid that your faith provides to cloud your judgement on being a good person.  What you have said is that god deemed this mother unworthy... you have unilaterally diminished her place as that child's creator, undermined her place in that child's life, and told her that her pain is justified by an invisible something that she is not allowed to question or argue against without fear of punishment.  You may have the best intentions, and I'm sure you do, but, again, you need to think about the impact that you actually have on the world around you, and that your place in this life, and in the lives of others, is not insignificant.  This mother is worth more than that.

"See, the world is too horrible to live in without god!"

No, the world is just horrible. God or no god....still horrible. Life is hard...it is filled with pain and chaos and fragility. Now that I've appropriately bummed you out and chastised you for not giving proper credit to both yourself and others for the impact we do have, let me arrive back at my point.  We have the ability to take it all and make something beautiful out of it.

There is wonder and awe in chaos and fragility.  Being vulnerable to the fact that there is no safety net, no reward, no punishment, and no hereafter, it frees you, and empowers you.

Last year, I sat in the carpool line, picking up my kindergartner from school as news of the tragedy of Sandy Hook Elementary poured across my newsfeed on my phone.  Tears welled in my eyes and for the next few weeks, I was paralyzed in the face of my worst fears as a parent.  See, I know what panic looks like on my childs' face, and I know where her cries sound like when all she wants is her mommy there to protect her.  Those pictures and sounds in my head...every parent knows them, and if forced to see them when they close their eyes... there only relief from that pain is to grab your child and hold them tight, feeling the realness of them next to you and knowing that, if just for that moment, they are safe.

In the days after Newtown, a friend of mine, a fellow non-believer, was relaying a conversation she had with her faithful sister, who was undermining the impact the tragedy must have had on my non-faithful friend.  My atheist friends reaction was perfect.  " No, you are wrong.  To you, this life is temporary, and these kids..their stop in this world was just shorter than most and they get to go on to a better place. To me, this is a fucking unspeakable travesty, because this was all they had, and it's gone forever.  I want to make this life better more than you do because this is all there is."

THAT is how I feel.  To me, I have to make every moment count, and I have to do as much as humanly possible to make this experience of life as amazing as possible because this is it...for me...for my daughter... for everyone.  I'm not passing the time between realms with an eternity of happiness to look forward to.  My happiness has to exist here and now, because I don't get another chance.  If you knew that you only had one moment to experience, and nothing after that, wouldn't you make it the best one you could?  Wouldn't you invest in making it beautiful and amazing?  I don't get to love my daughter forever...I get to love her NOW, and so I love her as much as possible while I can.

The only time you will ever see me quoting a country song... Live like your were dying.  We are all dying...some more slowly than others.  We don't want to think about that...we usually spend our days feeling like we aren't dying, and in the moments where death is real to us, we tell each other that it's not important, because death isn't really the end...there's an afterparty!!!  We have funerals to have an entire ceremony devoted to the idea that it's totally okay that this person died, because they didn't really die... you totally get to see them later.  And just so that you know where they are going to, we are going to revisit all the great things they have done so you know they they are going to be having a great time while you can't see them.  So, we push away death... we make it seem like it doesn't happen...but it does!  We die...we just do... it's the great equalizer.  Instead of pushing it away, I'm embracing it.  I'm going to die and that is all there is... no more Noel forever and ever.....and I'm not taking advantage of the moments have been between now and then for anything.

Can you see how freeing that is?  Can you see how beautiful it is to live in what you know is real, instead of viewing it as a stop before something you can't be sure of?  My little girl is not just beautiful now and ethereal in the hereafter that might exist later... she is everything now and every moment of thinking about later is a moment wasted.

That mom, the one who "turned her back on god".... she has spent her time going to school, becoming a nurse, with the intention of working with families going through exactly what she did.  She saw those people, the medical professionals who worked hard to keep her child in her arms...she saw them for what they were... her blessing.  She didn't see them as insignificant...pawns in a game that an invisible force controlled.  They gave her moments that wouldn't have existed if they didn't do their good deeds without reward.   She took the hurt and the pain and the chaos and the fragility and turned it into something beautiful .  She had completely embraced it all and decided that she is not insignificant... she can matter to someone else.  She isn't "doing god's work".  She is doing HER work...the work set in motion by her pain and her loss that is the result of her love.  Her reward is that others benefit, in THIS life, from her love for that sweet baby girl.  By embracing the randomness of it all, she finds her strength...not bestowed by god...this isn't "the reason" her daughter died...it's her...and she deserved the credit for that.  She is free from being a pawn and is owning THIS life and her place in it.  Nothing can take away her pain.... her work doesn't diminish the immense loss that she feels every single moment of every single day.  She took feeling that insignificant...being told that she was deemed unworthy by god, robbed of her moments with her child, and turned it into something amazing and beautiful.  She is part of the system that gives more moments to families in this life.  She is someone elses' blessing, and she deserves all of the credit in the world for that.  I'm not particularly interested in what invisible forces can do when there are amazing women like this mom right here in my own backyard.

So, the world is horrible...and instead of turning to something I can't see to make me feel better about it being horrible, I'm going to turn to myself and ask how I play a part in that.  I'm going to see this for what it is...short, fleeting, fragile...and worth so much more than I can put into words.  I'm going to not allow the world to say that I'm insignificant... I'm going to embrace my worth and your worth and the worth of the grandchildren I might never meet and make it worth it.  I'm going to be someone else's blessing.  Along the way, many people will likely credit god for my hard work, and I'm okay with that.  I just hope that they can stop seeing themselves as insignificant, and truly embrace this life and their place in it.

I know that faith gives people something, but please do not discount that being faithless does too.  I prefer to exist in my life, knowing it's fragile and short, being full of the richness that is promised to others after this life in religion.  Maybe if we stopped thinking that our potential comes later, we would take better care of each other now.

A Christmas Benediction

Last week, I went to my coffeeshop with the intention of getting some work done. It was open-mic poetry night. I have a slight ache in my heart every time I am there for open-mic poetry night, because a friend of ours, Cloyd, a regular of Jacksons in general, was also known to share his poetry ( namely his celebrity death Haikus) at this monthly event. Cloyd passed away last year, but his memory contained within the walls of Jacksons is palpable. Last week, the host of the Poetry Night read Cloyd holiday standard " A Christmas Benediction"- a beautifully crafted piece bestowing a blessing onto those he loved during the holidays. Several ideas floated around my head as I listened to Cloyds generous words from beyond the grave. I wondered if my loved ones were included in the kind thoughts of our departed friend. I thought about how amazing it is that his humanity can echo past his demise. I thought about how strange and odd Cloyd was- the math genius with one wrinkled shirt tail untucked, and tried to remember if I saw the compassion that lingered just below the surface. I wondered about my own kindness, and if I have left an indelible enough mark on the world for my words to echo to others the way that Cloyd’s were to me. As the week passed, I was also encountered with a number of people who are having a very hard time in life right now, for one reason or another. I am drawn toward the idea that I need to give them all SOMETHING...but time and resources are limited, and I can't give them all exactly what they need. The only thing I can do is give them what I can. A benediction is not something I would be good at, generally. First, it calls on a divinity that I simply don't put a great deal of stock into. Calling on the spirits or asking for divine intervention...it's not my thing. However, there is a second part to a benediction. A call for guidance through a time of trouble. That is something I can get down with. So, to everyone out there- people I love, people I know, people I have not yet had the chance to meet- this is MY Christmas Benediction to you. 

This Christmas, I give to you this wish

I wish for you to see the fortune in every moment

even when that moment feels unfortunate

I wish for you to know the power of giving

over the disappointment of losing

I wish for you to invest yourself into moments you are creating

instead of fixating on the moments that someone else is missing

This Christmas, I give to you this wish

I wish for you to know love, not as something that is bestowed upon you

but as something you have earned

I wish for you to be able to embrace your own worth,

and demand your worth be appreciated by others

I wish for you to know that bad decisions have consequences,

but even the worst decision can be made right with effort, time, and patience

This Christmas, I give to you this wish

I wish for you the ability to see how precious you are

and the value of your possessions or your bank account does not undermine that

I wish for you the chance to show how brave you can be

and the opportunity to be proud that you overcame

I wish for you the clarity to see where you have misstepped

and the courage to let it shape you without defining you

This Christmas, I give to you this wish

I wish that you find beauty in your path

even if that path led to you somewhere you didn’t intend

I wish for you the ability to change your story

and make yourself into the person you want to be

I wish that you find peace

and know that it’s okay to have sorrow, but you cannot let it destroy you

This Christmas, I give to you this wish

I wish for you to find the strength to forgive

and know that forgiveness is more about you than the person who wronged you

I wish for you to see that misery begets misery

and that people who hurt others create their own misfortune

I wish for you the security of priorities

and that you only focus on people and things that make your life better

This Christmas, I give to you this wish

I wish that you are able to leave those who hurt you in the past

and share your sunlight with only those who are invested in your future

I wish for you to see that people who love you do exist

and are most highlighted when you love yourself enough to believe it

I wish for you the strength to take on the hardest task,

to never stop trying,

because you know that you are worth the effort that happiness takes

This is my gift to you this Christmas

Today, I am not talking about Amendment One

Earlier this year, I made a promise to myself and to all of my Facebook friends that I would not talk about politics. I have managed to white-knuckle it through the last 4 months. I will continue to not talk about politics. I will not talk about Amendment One today. I want to talk about something different. Today I want to talk about God, and your relationship with God and with your fellow human beings.I spoke to my husband about this, and he explained that this particular person lives by "rules". That his faith gives him a set of "rules", and there is a safety in that. However, his explanation didn't make me feel any better. Why are there certain "rules" that make other "rules" okay to break? This is the part of religion that makes me uneasy...scratch that....this is the part of human existence that makes me uneasy. What is it inside of us that tells us that we need to be better...smarter....and that we need to exclaim to the world that WE have the answers.

 

 

I don't have the answers...I don't even know the questions. I know that even with my lack of faith, there is a drive inside me to be a better person tomorrow than I was today. I know that my job is to leave this place a better place than I found it. I know that I accomplish more when I love then when I don't. I know that being loved by other human beings feels good. I know there are times when the right decision is difficult. I know there are many times when I make mistakes. I know the only way back from that is to try as hard as possible to not make those mistakes again. And I know that no matter how this whole life/universe/God/Heaven/Hell thing ends up, I'm here right now, and I have to make decisions that make the here/now better for myself and for others.

 

 

At this moment, I know there are people who could read this a know that I have an agenda. You are not wrong...I have an agenda, and it is this: Please come to your decisions with absolute love in your heart for your fellow human being. Please think about what loving another person really means. For my part, although it is not a testament of my faith, will fall back onto the words spoken at so many of the marriages that I have witnessed:

 

 

"If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing.

 

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

 

Love never fails; but if there are gifts of prophecy, they will be done away; if there are tongues, they will cease; if there is knowledge, it will be done away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part; but when the perfect comes, the partial will be done away. When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known. But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love." - 1 Corinthians 1-13.

 

 

I have a hard time loving those who I disagree with, and there have been a few times that I have wanted to un-friend people here because of something they have said. However, I am not going to do that. I will not disrespect your opinion and I will not kick you out of my life. We are in each others lives for a reason, and I think it's to make each other better people. You make me a better person, and I would rather be friends with a legion of people who think differently than I do than be mere acquaintances with people who agree with me.

 

 

I do not know what will happen on May 8th. I do know that I will continue to live here...and I will have to continue to exist in a world that thinks differently about things than I do. That is life- I only get one shot, and as far as I can see, the best thing I can do it act in love to each and every person I get the opportunity to share it with.

 

 

These are just my thoughts, down for the world to see.

The Evolution of my Kitchen Countertop

A millions words have been used to describe love, but very few to describe the path from life, to love, and back to life.

This is about the evolution of my kitchen countertop.Age 10-  My mother’s countertop is  a thing to be revered.  It is perfectly lined with shiny appliances- some older than I am.  It bares no personal significance other than the fact that I can’t touch most of them.  Crumbs from the random peanut butter and jelly sandwich are tolerated.  Jelly from said sandwich is not.  Any sticky substance is met with a threat of ants- and five days of passive-aggressive silence.

 

Age 16—My mother’s countertop has changed, but only incidentally.  Now a single mother, her attention wavers between absolute control and a permissiveness that borders on neglect, and her countertop reflects these extremes.  The countertop is a regular revolving door of re-invention and indifference; a bread maker that disappears within 2 months, a rotisserie that is only used on Holidays, a pasta-maker bought during a low-fat diet craze, a George Forman Grill bought during a low carb diet craze.  There are only two permanent fixtures- a coffeemaker and a bottle of vodka; one to dull the pain of the night before…the other to dull the pain of the 23 years before that.

 

I long to be rid of this countertop and have a countertop of my own...a place when the rules of my mother’s house no longer apply.  I cut bagels directly on the forbidden Formica as a display of my rebellion. 

 

Age 18- My first countertop, measuring roughly 2 feet long and flanked by a 2 burner stove and a mini-sink.  Decorated sparsely with mini-appliances from the Good Will, like the toaster I would use if I ever woke up before 1pm.  The faux wood laminate is burned and rippled form years of abuse and misuse, and anything set on it wobbles on its surface.  I understand that countertop in so many ways.

 

Age 21-I’ve upgraded to a larger and newer countertop, which ends up covered in beer bottles with cigarette butts floating in them.  Dishes spill over the sink and onto any available counter-space that will house them for a week or two.  Purple stains from a miscalculated jello shot pouring mark the surface for years to come.  ( For future reference, any activity involving jello shots is inherently miscalculated).

 

Age 23  My countertop is a pure reflection of myself- a mixture of youthful indiscretion and grown-up ambition.  The occasional beer bottle still appears, but is quickly cleaned up to prominently display my $45 martini set that was purchased after my first promotion.  I quickly figure out that I hate martinis, but I dust and display the set anyway to steer any wayward late-night visitors into thinking I am “cultured” instead of what I really am…lonely and desperate to be not only loved, but respected.  Appliances slowly creep onto the surface, and for the first time, the countertop is used for its intended purpose- the preparation of meals.  I make elaborate dinners for myself, such as filet and Oysters Rockefeller to subdue the nagging sensation that I will be alone forever.

 

Age 27-  My countertop is now “our” countertop, and the daily struggle between “mine” and “ours” begins.  My dishes multiple exponentially, and I convince myself that my mates near-daily habit of leaving wads of paper-towel all over my clean countertop is “quirky” and not “annoying”.  I prepare meals and baked goods on that countertop to prove I am a suitable companion, and he returns the favor with high-end appliances that he gets because he knows I love to cook ( Gift of the Magi, indeed), .  My countertop nears perfects, less one KitchenAid mixer, which I deprive myself of for years, citing expense and good old fashion guilt for having such a luxury.

 

Age 29-  We are now a family, and my once clear countertops are overwhelmed by baby bottles and tiny spoons.  My sink becomes a haven from spoiled milk bottles that appear under car seats and in between couch cushions.  My partner dares not open them, but I soldier through the cleaning of them because my existence can be summarized in one word- sacrifice.  My initial over sanitization of every surface quickly gives way to a sleep-deprived decision that the counter that was wiped down two days ago is “clean enough”.

 

Age 32-  Third countertop in as many years.  The fixtures of my countertop do not so much change as they shift.  They are upgraded for newer and better appliances come Holiday time, and change location in each new house to make this space more “home” than the last “home”.  The Crock-pot takes prominence on the counter, and I don’t even bother to put away the sauté pan anymore.  New and exciting challenged arise, like little fingers that can now reach the knife I left on the cutting board.

Occasionally, my officially grown-up countertop becomes a burden to my existence.  The wads of paper towel lose their quirky glimmer and simply become the thing I obsess over for weeks, until I blurt out something rude and unnecessary to my husband about me “not being his mother” during a fight at 2:30 am.  I find myself cursing under my breath about jelly splotches on my clean countertops, and complaining about how we are going to get ants.

But then, every couple of days, I clean my countertops to near perfection.  I pull out each appliance and scrub with fury until my hands burns and my back aches.  And when I am done, I sit back and just stare at my countertops with a gratitude that fills my heart.  This silly and stupid thing is a pure reflection of whole being.  And, for just a moment, I think about the evolution of my countertop.  This thing I took advantage of, to the thing I longed for, to the thing I used inappropriately, to the thing I took pride it, and now, it is the place where my family thrives.  This simple place, where I make food to feed my family and create masterpieces that do nothing more than make my family happy for a few moments.  I needed to have each kind of countertop to get where I am now.  I needed the clean and the messy to make sense of why each one is a part of who I am today.  Seven months ago, I finally purchased that KitchenAid mixer…on sale.  My counter is now complete- the guilt is gone and I give and receive in almost perfect balance. 

This is life.  It is not fancy or glamorous, but the twist and turns have lead me to this place where life meets love, and love meets life.  Such is the evolution of my kitchen countertops.

To the people who stole my little girls pumpkins

To the people who stole my little girls pumpkins,

 If you are, or you know the people who stole my little girls four pumpkins from our front yard this weekend, I have a message for you. If you are thinking about stealing someone's pumpkins from their yard, you might want to read this too.

See, I know they are just pumpkins. I know you were out, bored and desperate from something to do on the weekend night, and you saw some pumpkins and thought " Hey, let's steal those pumpkins and smash them in other peoples yards...that'll be fun". Well, here is the back story you don't know.

We took out little girl to a pumpkin patch to get those pumpkins. I am out of work, and my husband barely makes enough for our little family to get by, but we set aside money to let our little girl get some pumpkins at the pumpkin patch. When we walked through the pumpkin patch, Mia ( did I tell you my little girl's name is Mia?) ran around, so excited and picked out a whole bunch of pumpkins- five to be exact. She carted the little red wagon behind her, naming each and every pumpkin. The littlest one, that's baby pumpkin. The next smallest one, that's sissy pumpkin. The two medium sized ones, those are mommy pumpkin and auntie pumpkin. The largest one, which you decided was too big to steal and throw carelessly and thoughtlessly onto someone's driveway, that is daddy pumpkin. I have included pictures of my little girl picking out her pumpkins, so that you can see her face and how excited she was pick out her little family of pumpkins.

Anyway, I have promised her all week that we would make jack-o-lanterns on Sunday. She has been asking about them, and every time there is a pumpkin picture somewhere ( on TV, on a magazine at the store), she has reminded me that we are going to make faces on baby, sissy, mommy, auntie, and daddy. So, you can only imagine how broken hearted Mia was when we walked outside this morning, and all but daddy pumpkin were gone. She asked me why they went bye bye. When I told her dad, my husband, she looked up and asked why someone would take her pumpkins. What should I tell my little girl? Should I tell her that some people didn't think she deserved the pumpkins that she so carefully picked out and loved so much? Should I tell her that your longing to smash pumpkins because you were bored on a weekend night was more important than how much she wanted to make faces on baby, sissy, mommy and auntie pumpkin? Do I have to explain to my little girl that we can't afford to get her any more pumpkins because mommy can't find work and we can't pay our rent and buy her food if we buy more pumpkins? You tell me- what should I tell her! Do I have to crush my little girls innocent heart by cluing her in, at the tender age of almost three, that people are heartless, cold, thoughtless, and only concerned with their own amusement?

So, I am writing this to let people in on a little secret. When you steal from someone, you could be breaking a little girl's heart. When you take what is not yours, you are taking from people that might not have a lot, but they are trying to provide for the kids that they love more than anything. You saw my house, it's modest at best. You saw our cars, both used, older model but safe vehicles. Did it ever occur to you " Hey, these people don't look like they have a lot, maybe they worked really hard to give their little girl some pumpkins for Halloween?" I'm guessing not.

I am not a religious person, but I do believe that the universe works in balance.  Not because of karma or some universal distribution of crappiness, but because you bring onto yourself how you see the world. In your crusade to entertain yourself, you have turned the table onto yourself, and when something bad happens to you, you need to know that it is because you have taken from another. It is only in your heart that you know the truth, and the truth is that you are a cold, heartless, and thoughtless person who has single-handedly broken my little girls heart. My recommendation is that you make amends with the universe quickly. Give a bottle of water to a homeless person. Help an old lady with her groceries. Smile at a little kid at Walmart. You need to do something to make your soul better, because this is not about some pumpkins- this is about what kind of person you are, and what your effect on the world is.

This letter is to let you know that all your actions have very real and very direct consequences to people who are far more innocent than you are. While you, someone old enough to drive a car and experience more of the world, were able to experience...what, 20 or 30 seconds of Halloween thrill.. my two year old- A TWO YEAR OLD, was treated to the cruel realization that the world can be a cruel and thoughtless place, when all her mommy and daddy wanted to do was make Halloween magical for her.

That is what your actions have done.

If you are a teacher or someone who has kids, please feel free to share this with them. I hope it clues them into why stealing is wrong.