Month: January 2019

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Reinvention

Posted on by Susannah Warner

This is my husband. He’s leaving for his first day on a new job. He’s 53 years old. Think you can’t start over? Think you can’t reinvent yourself? Think again…

My husband has had many jobs in his lifetime, and more than one career. He’s been a cook, a carpenter, and a soldier. He’s delivered pizzas, made sandwiches, done physical therapy, and worked in factories. He’s built bridges, and houses, and did asbestos abatement in paper mills. He has degrees in culinary arts, and physical therapy. He’s worked outside when it’s 20 below zero, and crawled in boilers where the temperature was 120, He was unstoppable until a diagnosis of bipolar brought us both to our knees and a halt to a consistent paycheck. For a time, it seemed there was no way around this mountain. But, there was a way, and he found it. How? He adapted and he evolved.

“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.” George Bernard Shaw

Darwin’s theory of evolution in part presumes that complex creatures evolve from more simplistic ancestors, and through a process called natural selection, a species adapts to its environment, while the less beneficial attributes are not passed on. At least that’s that’s how my scientific-shy little mind breaks it down (yeah, you can school me if I’m wrong!). If this is true in the large evolutionary scheme of things, wouldn’t it be the same in our day-to-day lives? I know it is for my husband, and I know it can be true for you, if you want.

“It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent. It is the one that is most adaptable to change.” Charles Darwin

Don’t just accept the fact that you are what you are. You can change, you can grow. It is not too late to learn. Never be complacent in where you are in life. That is not to say that you shouldn’t enjoy each stage of your life, but that’s all it is; a stage. It will change. Just as you once thought you’d never grow up, you did. And maybe as a young mom, you feel that children will always be hanging off of you, but they won’t. Maybe you feel that you’re stuck in this dead-end job forever. But, you’re not. Get ready. Things will change, and you must change too. Be prepared to evolve and adapt, or you will begin the slow process of death.

”When you’re finished changing, you’re finished.” Benjamin Franklin

If where you are now, is not the dream you had for yourself when you were 7, don’t despair, don’t give up. Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t change your life. Don’t get stuck in a monotonous rut. Remember the passion you had as a kid? Ok, so maybe you won’t be a professional athlete, an actress, or a veterinarian as you thought when you were little. But, you did fantasize about being more than what you were at the time, and that’s where it begins. Rekindle that excitement, then put that energy in to change, no matter how small.

“The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.” Socrates

My husband has always been unable to sit still (what a blessing and curse ADHD can be!). He is always moving and loves to learn. He loves to help people, and he loves to talk. He hates the 9-5 life, and being inside all the time. Combine all these attributes with a carpentry background of 35 years, and it made perfect sense for him to become a real estate agent. He has succeeded by turning all the turmoil and strife of his childhood and the challenges of young adulthood into a passion and energy that allows him to continually evolve into the best person he can be. He has used all of the trials in his life as building blocks, not roadblocks. Sure, it’s not easy, and it has taken a long time. He’s a card-carrying member of AARP and needs daily medication to keep going, but if age, mental illness, and a very rocky start to life haven’t stopped him, why should it stop you? You’ve got all the tools you need to reinvent yourself if you want to; you just have to want to.

“You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.”  C.S. Lewis

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Rest for your Soul

Posted on by Susannah Warner

One of my nephews messaged today because he’s coming home next month and wanted to let us know. By “coming home,” I mean his childhood home in Trenton NJ, which is a mere 500 miles from us, his Maine family, rather than roughly 7,200 away in China where he has been living and working for the last few years. Since he will be so close, even for just a few weeks, he would like to come and see us, catch up on all the news, and share his own. He wants to rest and play, explore and share good conversations with us over a glass of not-so-great wine.

My nephews have spent two weeks nearly every summer of their childhoods here in Maine with their extended family. For many years they came with their parents; a happy, crazy, hazy, lazy time in August. Now that they are all grown, they still come up as often as they can, separately but with the addition of friends, girlfriends, and partners. I love that even as adults, or maybe especially because they are grownups, with grownup lives, they still think of Maine as a place for R&R, a place where they can shrug off their heavy adult coat and live unburdened for a short time.

It’s a wonderful feeling to know that your home and/or presence is a comfort to others, a sanctuary and a place to recover from the demands of an unforgiving world. There are so few places in this world where there are no expectations. Most of us wear a mask at times, even those among us who value authenticity and prickle internally at a disingenuous atmosphere or situation. There are social norms to conform to though, and hoops to jump through, and it can be exhausting, even for the strongest of the strong…maybe especially for them.

When the winds of adulting have left you battered you to the point of bone-weariness, isn’t it so comforting to know that there is a harbor of love beckoning you home, a place where you are cherished and loved, fluffed and puffed? Not unlike a child whose  mittens dangle reassuringly from a string around his shoulders and whose hood is tied securely and lovingly by his mother who is careful not to pinch when zipping him up, its such a safe feeling to know that there is a place where you can go to be protected from the elements, and feel the lavish heaps of care, attention and protection.

I hope that everyone who reads this has a place like this, maybe even several places, just like my nephews. A place where you never knock before you come in, and don’t have to text first to say you’re going to stop by. A place that the owners face will light up when they see you. A place where you leave your social mask at the door and slip into your authentic-self slippers, which have been left for you by the door from your last visit. A place where the people love it when you brag about your accomplishments a little, and feel genuine joy and pride for all that you’ve done out there, and you never feel embarrassed to tell them the compliments others have paid you, because you know they truly enjoy hearing it. A place where your favorite foods are prepared in your honor and it isn’t awkward at all if you take a quick nap on their couch after you eat. A place where you can feel yourself paradoxically unplug, yet recharge. A place where secrets are told and kept, and when you share the darkest parts of yourself; the things that you’re ashamed to say but long to tell, you do, because you know the ugliness will dissipate in the light of their eyes. A place where the fire is warm and the hearts are warmer and the burdens you lay down at the door when you entered this place are still there waiting for you by the door, but they are curiously lighter than when you came. But wait, they’re actually not any lighter, it’s just that your arms are stronger, and your mind is clear. Your gait is determined and your spirit refreshed. The world and its demands are still waiting for you, yet you now welcome the challenge; buoyed, bolstered and wrapped in a protective bubble of unconditional love.

I am thankful to have such places to go here on earth, and even more grateful to be this person for a few people, but to me such a place is Heaven. I’m not talking about streets of gold and angels with harps kind of heaven, I’m talking about Home. I’m talking about wearily trudging up to Jesus’ cozy house, dropping my burdens by the door, entering without knocking and seeing him to turn to me, delight on his face. I’m talking about sipping coffee with him while we eat warm cinnamon buns and I talk about all the things on my heart. I’m talking about seeing the love in his eyes, as he nods and say “I know,” and I know that he does. I’m talking about taking a quick nap on his couch while he covers me with his softest blanket. I’m talking about waking so refreshed that I’m ready to go back out there.

He’ll wave as I go of course, and even though I’ll have a lump in my throat because I know I can’t live there yet, I can visit anytime. And as time goes by and I pick up more and more bags of worldly burdens, the heavier it all becomes. And just when I think I can’t go any farther, I find a love note that He tucked in my pocket while I napped. The Word is weightless, yet sinks into my heart, and a curious mix of strength and softness surround me. The power of His Word will sustain me until that day- when dirty, tired and hungry I again trudge to His house and, without knocking, and knowing He will turn and smile, I enter into sweet and eternal rest (with a little bit of fun and adventure of course, because after all, this IS Heaven I’m talking about!).

*Don’t or can’t believe this? Is this too much of a fairy tale for you? It’s true, it’s all true and it will set you free. Questions? Comment below or PM me!

 

 

 

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Grandchildren

Posted on by Susannah Warner

We’re lucky to have our little Bean over so often and so blessed to be grandparents. I mean, our kids were fun, but raising them was a lot of work; emotional and physical.  For one thing, they never slept well, even years beyond the baby stage, and since they are 6 years apart, I’m pretty sure I didn’t sleep through the night for nearly a decade. They fought a lot, usually just the garden variety, “she’s looking at me,” and “he keeps coughing in my ear,” followed by bouts of hitting or relentless teasing, but I also seem to recall, buried in the recesses of my brain, a rather unfortunate incident, involving a glass bottle thrown at someone’s head, and an even more egregious accusation of someone being chased around the dinner table by someone else who was wielding a knife. Who the aggressor was in each incident, I really don’t know, as I’ve just now stumbled upon this forgotten file in my brain, stored away at least 15 years ago and aptly titled, “Cure for baby fever!!” This, after I’d spent a dreamy 5 minutes, waxing poetic about the joys of having small children in the house.

And then there’s the guilt; a heavy, cumbersome mantle sitting securely on the head of every mother; working or stay-at-home, single or married. There is no escaping it, almost each day brings a fresh supply, and we as mothers accept the heavy burden with only the small consolation that we must be doing an ok job, or we probably wouldn’t feel guilt at all. Through all this; the fighting, the drudgery, the long days and short nights, there were plenty of good times too. But, it all seemed to go by so quickly, and even though the days often dragged, there is this strange phenomenon I heard a wise person explain like this, “the days are long, but the years are short,” I’ve found this to be quite accurate.

I actually enjoy my children so much more now that they are adults, because they are the friends that I raised. They know all my quirks, and think nothing of them. They  understand my need to quote my favorite movie lines every time someone says something that reminds me of one, or when I can’t help but sing the chorus of a song that seems to suit the occasion. When I say, “oh your father, you know how he is,” they nod fondly and smile, and they politely  remain nonplussed when “The Bickersons,” our evil, alter ego couple come to call, since they’ve seen their act many times before. Best of all, neither one can be bothered with staring at each other anymore, or coughing in each other’s ears and I’m quite confident that any squabble that might arise in the future, will not sink to the level of a thrown glass bottle, nor a threatened brutal knife attack, although a bout of relentless teasing cannot be entirely ruled  out. Thus, family gatherings with adult children is generally peaceful, if not a little bit predictable.

But a grandchild! Oh, what a joy! She lights up our world with her funny sayings, and her adorable little eyeglasses. We have all of the fun and none of the guilt. We really don’t care if she has cookies for breakfast, or if she doesn’t brush her teeth. We buy things we’d never buy for our kids…a milkshake at a restaurant instead of water! Noisemakers and glow sticks at a parade! Build-a-bear at the mall, and candy at the movies, instead of smuggling in our own! All fun, no work! Unless she wants to help, in which case we have all the time in the world for her to crack eggs and help pound in a nail.

In most cases, the less time we have on earth, the more patience we have for these little ones, and this is one of the many reasons they love us. Because, something all grandparents know is that as we age our days are shorter, but the enthusiasm and vitality of grandchildren, keep our years long. And that is just one of the many reasons that we love them.