Minimal pursuit

I am such a fan of minimalism, simplicity, Marie Kondo etc. I 100% believe that there is freedom in having less— that you can enjoy the things you have to their fullest when your focus is not divided.

This is all coming from my typing on a brand new iPad, in a new sweater that I spent way too much on Yesterday.

Growing up our house was filled to the brim with stuff that we didn’t pay any attention to. I remember getting Christmas presents that would be exciting for a few weeks, until something new came along. We weren’t quite what you see on hoarders— but in habit we were pretty similar.

Then came the summer I went to CA for an internship. I only brought with me what could fit in my one checked bag because I didn’t want to pay for a second. This included only my favorite articles of clothing, my ukulele, and a few books I wanted to read.

The contrast was clear to me. I completely forgot about all my other belongings- I actually read the few books I had & played my ukulele. I felt less stressed and happier.

Of course, my situation was temporary and mandated a small amount of belongings. Two times since I’ve give away Large amounts of my belongings, in hopes of achieving that same level of freedom. Leaving from college I got rid of 1/3 of my stuff. Leaving Tampa I got rid of 4/5 of my belongings until it could all fit into my car.

But it didn’t stick. I now own just as much clothing as I owned before, just as much furniture, just as much Christmas decorations.

It is fascinating and annoying to me how I can love shopping and minimalism so much at the same time. Mark my words, friends— I will get there. How do I know?

Because I keep coming back to it, and I know what it feels like to be free of clutter. It’s part of me now.

This doesn’t necessarily mean I will live in a tiny house (Though I still totally want to) or that I won’t ever buy things: It means one day I’ll have just what brings me joy, and I’ll feel able to love something without compulsion to own it.

I will, however, still want to go window shopping with you so please invite me to the mall.

Ouch

A few days ago I tried to carry a TV stand into my house. I dropped it on my foot.

I am proud of the independence I've gained by living and moving alone. It is good and right of me to celebrate my independence. But I have not actually moved alone. Behind every step in the moving process was someone assisting me: financially, emotionally, physically...

I called my mom, sister, and best friend everyday. Families in the church helped run my yard sale. My new employer found me temporary housing. A coworker transported my bed to my apartment. My family gave me money to help with the move.

I feel grateful but, at times, guilty. Whether it comes from the criticism I see given to those who struggle to take care of themselves or from my own desire to prove myself worthy and capable-- or both-- I experience guilt.

A few days ago I tried to carry a TV stand into my house. I thought about how much help I had in every step of the moving process. I thought what if I didn't have their help? What if one day I don't have anyone's help? and then I tried to pick it up by myself.

It fell onto my foot.

A man nearby was walking his dog with his kid. He saw me and offered to help. I was in too much pain to be stubborn. With his help, the TV stand is now in my apartment.

So I owe the success of my move to my family, friends, community, new-co workers, and now to a stranger.

No matter how stable I become financially, emotionally, or physically-- I'll probably encounter a "TV stand" that I cannot lift on my own. That's true about all of us- family or not.

This season of change is a reminder of what has always been true. We need each other.

Chess and Failed Plans

I’ve taught two or three middle schooler’s chess now. Usually their second or third game is their worst game.

After they learn how to play, they eagerly develop a plan or two. Without a lot of experience playing chess, the plan seem solid. Not until the game actually begins do they realize their plan was built on assumptions about what their opponent would do and what they could do. They look for a way to accomplish their plan, and miss what’s happening on the board.

Then I crush ‘em.

Every game is different. You have to craft your strategy as the game unfolds.

I graduated college with a lot of plans, but I learned that my plans, and all plans have an assumed context. When I plan a lesson I forecast students’ interests, needs, prior knowledge, focus…. 

Mindfulness of those elements is important and the longer I am with a group the better my forecasts… but as life unfolds, the world, the students, and the context all change.

I change, too.

Trial and error has been a big part of my post-graduation life. Sometimes well-developed plans fall flat and impromptu decisions carry great impact. I do not intend to stop planning, I just want to pay attention to what is happening around me.

Lately, this has been through contemplative prayer. When I sit still, I begin to recognize God’s presence and His work in the people and places around me. It feels a bit like playing chess— my next move is better when I’m connected to the one who made the game.

"[Mary] sat at the Lord's feet listening to what He said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to Him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!" "Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed-or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." Luke 10:39b-42 NIV

My Adulthood Victories

I often picked fun at myself for "adulting fails" last year- because, let's face it, they were funny. Sometimes laughing at yourself is helpful. Looking back, I see that laughing at myself helped me own something that I would have otherwise been insecure about.

After a while, I stopped laughing and the insecurity surfaced.

I then realized that I am an adult and I want to know what I am doing.

So this year- as I began a new job and got a fresh start, I decided to start celebrating my "adulthood victories." I started making a list.

Then I lost the list.

(I'm still working on my "keeping track of stuff" victory)

Here are the victories that I can remember off the top of my head.

1. Understanding taxes

This year I owed a scary large amount after doing my taxes- which caught me by surprise because the year prior I got a very large tax return. It was a set back that took away most of my savings, but it did result in me understanding taxes pretty thoroughly.

2. Investing in stock

I own 4 shares of stock! Shout out to Kelly for teaching me about it. I'm not sure how long I'll keep them or if I'll make money but honestly it just feels cool to own stock.

3. Amending my tax return

Unlike many people my age- I've had to have my own health insurance from the time I moved to Florida. I don't know how to explain this whole situation in a few sentences so let's just say this: Lots of money down the drain, 2 day panic and paperwork, my roommate saw my true colors pretty early during our time together.

4. Learning to cook gravy

Gravy is not the only thing I learned how to cook but it is the hardest thing I've learned how to cook and the most important thing to me. Gravy is the most important thing to me. I consider myself an above average cook now- which is a BIG step up from last year.

5. Meal Prepping

I'm still not GREAT at this, but I've wasted WAY less food this year than last year. I check expiration dates and buy just what I need.

6. Taking care of actual plants

This is mostly my roommate actually but I have helped and still want it to be on my list. I will say that one of the plants is my very own and it's been successfully growing for a month now.

7. Understanding credit card/credit scores

I don't consider myself a super responsible spender- but I am proud to say I've never bought more on my credit card than I could actually afford.

8. Budgeting

I made an amazing google spread sheet that I am very proud about and have an app that keeps track of my spending. I could do a better job following my budget but I am proud that I'm at least mindful of my expenses.

9. Finding a counselor and doctor that I like.

This is a victory for SO many reasons.

10. Casual dating

I didn't actually enjoy the casual dating experience- but it's something I've always wanted to do and I did it. Plus, it resulted in me learning a lot about myself.

11. Driving in the city

Growing up we rarely drove in a city and when we did it was a tense, stressful situation for everyone in the vehicle. Every time I drive on the highway I can feel the same rush of excitement my younger self felt when we were in a city. "I've made it mom," I say.

12. Cleaning

It's not that I didn't clean before- it's that I was awful at it. I didn't even know it was something you could be bad at! Now I'd say I'm pretty good at it.

13. Friends my own age

It feels so good to relate to people again.

Most of these victories were born out of crisis. I'm trying to remember that when I encounter crisis.

~Jean

Not the Airport Olympics

My first ride on an airplane was 2 years and 6 months ago.

“Your first flight ever?!” my classmates said, shocked to learn about my then flight-less life. I was surprised by their surprise— I hadn’t realized it was unusual. Our family vacations were few and only a short drive away. Escalators fascinated me— my world was very small. Occasionally my friends would travel far, but not often. I stayed in Pennsylvania.

Flying was a little bit of a dream come true for me. When I was young I was fascinated with planes and helicopters. I distinctly remember this silver toy plane that looked so real, that I “flew” often, and a cartoon show with talking airplanes that I loved. I hoped to ride in a plane eventually, but had no idea when I would. When I signed up for this trip I called my mom to tell her. She was excited with me.

I’m in the airport now, realizing how different this flight is from my first. I remember being anxious and excited. I was confused by all the signs and rules. Security check overwhelmed me. This was exasperated by everyone else’s calmness. There seemed to be a million things that could go wrong. I kept forgetting things. I was nervous about leaving the gate area (I set like 6 alarms to remind me of boarding time). I reviewed my checklist maybe 100 times.

Right now I am at the the Boston airport— where I took my first flight— now returning from my 11th roundtrip since that first flight. Check in was easy. Security check felt fast. I walked all the way around the airport to find a nice place to sit and type this. I didn’t set an alarm (let alone 6) for my boarding time. I did not take 30 snapchat pictures with Logan Airport’s geotag. This is familiar to me now.

This is my new normal.

It’s a small, but nice mark of growth and independence for me— accompanied by and parallel to many other, beautiful marks of growth from my transition into adulthood.

Irmagerd

This is what I thought about as I evacuated Irma.

When I didn't have what I felt I needed, I was at my worst. I was angry and selfish in my thoughts and actions.

When I had what I felt I needed, I was at my best. I was compassionate and generous toward my fellow humans.

It seems to be a pattern of humans, seen most clearly during disasters.

During Irma we struggled to find tangible, material needs like water, food, shelter, and gas.

The rest of the time, I watch this pattern play out emotionally.

I watch people who are loved, love more freely.

I watch people who are hurt, love with reserve.

I see youth with a history of hurt, understandably battle a habit of of distrust and defense. People do not understand the reasons, and they withhold compassion and continue the cycle.

I see youth with consistent, loving mentors believe in themselves and listen well. They learn and thrive and easily receive the love they need to learn and thrive more.

We are all so dependent on one another, more than we know.

I am so thankful for all the people in my life who have showered me with a love so strong that it reaches from the north to South Tampa. You broke a bad cycle, and I'm ready to do the same for others.

My Adulthood Fails

Holy Moly!

It has been one year since I moved into my first apartment!

Which means I survived an entire year of "adulting."

I am so proud of myself for going on this terrifying, expensive, confusing, lonely adventure alone.

Also, I am so glad the first year is over.

To celebrate, I've decided to laugh at myself. Join me as I reminisce on my adulthood fails.

• For a week, my milk was thick and my meat tasted weird, even though they were not near expiring. I just assumed I was paranoid and this was normal. Turns out my fridge was on it's lowest setting so I had been low-key food poisoning myself all week.

• I live on the second floor and park far from my apartment, so when possible I try bringing my groceries in one trip. One time I had just barely too much for one trip, but I attempted it anyway. I spent so long strategically rearranging the groceries that it would've taken less time to take two trips-- also I broke 5 eggs.

• The first time I tried frying food, I thought the oil was supposed to boil. It ended up evaporating, setting off the fire alarm, and getting in my eyes. I had to open the window and stop the fire alarm all while barely being able to open my eyes from the painful fumes.

• Some weeks I would only be home for a short amount of time, making it hard to buy groceries and cook. At one point I went an entire week with barely any food in my apartment. I lived off of granola bars and lunchables.

• Through a ridiculous 3 hour phone call, during which I was practically brainwashed and hypnotized, I somehow was conned into paying for a probably-sketchy 2 night cruise for me and a not-yet identified guest. After I realized how crazy this was, I called to get my money back. They didn't put up a fight and I attribute that to the fact that I told the customer service lady that I, too, was recording the conversation.

• I bought my first bottle of wine without realizing that I did not have a corkscrew. My friend mentioned that some people use a screw and a hammer to open the bottle. So I put a screw in, but I didn't have a hammer so I improvised with a can opener. while trying to pull it out, the cork broke and the can opener smacked me in the mouth. I had a bloody, bruised lip.

• I, for some reason, have still not bought a tape measure or yard stick. When I need to measure something, I compare it to the length of my own body by laying down next to it.

• I improvised while cooking a breakfast casserole, putting some bread that would soon expire in the bottom. It was the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted, but it took so much time, effort, and so many ingredients that I tried to force myself to eat it all week. I eventually gave up and threw it away.

• The first time I tried getting health insurance, the agent I spoke with signed me up for some sort of not-actually-insurance health club thing. I paid for this for like 3 months before learning that it wasn't actually health insurance.

• I have been mistaken as a middle schooler about 8 times and a high schooler too many times to count. One time I was mistaken as a middle schooler while actually sitting at the teacher's desk in a classroom.

I am so full of nostalgia.

I still cannot believe that I actually understand cooking, have my own insurance, my own furniture, my own CAT.

Now I've come full circle, because tomorrow I move, and begin a new job in a new county.

Abundant blessings and good vibes,

Jean