The Challenge of Change

I’m one to give people (and myself) the benefit of the doubt.

I’m quick to say, “Oh, that’s just the way he is/she is/I am wired.”

I tend to believe that we are victims/products of our histories, environments and circumstances.

The love I have for people and the dislike I have for confrontation often overrides my need to bring up anything I find bothersome about someone.

BUT. I also get hung up on the idea of potential. Not what someone should be, but what they can be. I have this nagging desire to make people see this potential they possess (and to live up to my own, obviously). It’s horribly annoying because acting on that desire potentially becomes overbearing or offensive. Reaching potential requires changing. People don’t always like change. People don’t always believe they can or should change. I will be the first to admit, I am one of those people.

I re-read Viktor Frankl’s ‘A Man’s Search for Meaning’ recently and it was very convicting for me in regards to this topic. Here are some excerpts:

“For what matters is to bear witness to the uniquely human potential at its best, which is to transform a personal tragedy into triumph, to turn one’s predicament into a human achievement. When we can no longer change our situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”

“Man does not simply exist, but always decides what his existence will be, what he will become the next moment. By the same token, every human being has the freedom to change at any instant.”

“In some ways suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice.”

“A man who becomes conscious of the responsibility he bears toward a human being who affectionately waits for him, or to an unfinished work, will never be able to throw away his life. He knows the ‘why’ for his existence, and will be able to bear almost any ‘how’.”

“Between stimulus and response, there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

I’ve probably written this 50 times already, but this year has been the most emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually exhausting year of my life. I can appear cool as a cucumber, but you guys: I’m mostly a mess. Yesterday I stayed in my pajamas all day. I ate ice cream and M&M’s for lunch. I didn’t really want to see or talk to anyone, so I didn’t leave my dorm. I sat in my bed and stared at the wall. It’s tempting to do this every day when you’re sad, but I can’t. I know I’m better than that. From an internal standpoint, I have been operating below my potential. I have wanted to shake off ‘suffering’ rather than choose into letting it transform me. I’m an extremely reflective person but I detest turning my attention inward. I hate focusing on myself. Hate, hate, hate, hate it. I understand that I am wired this way, but if I simply accept it and allow that to dictate my response to life, that won’t foster growth or freedom. Its hard to truly believe I have the authority to choose/change my response in hopeless situations that are out of my control.

I’m working hard on this one wee thing (‘wee’ is my favorite new adjective to use. Also, ‘dodgy’). I am committed to notice when I’m doing it, admit what I fear, and let it go again and again and again. It kills me when I see people who want to change something, who have all the resources and capabilities to do so, and they choose out. I know that if I want my relationships, career, and self to become something beautiful I have to be willing to stop the distractions. Pray. Listen for inner Tay. Ask questions. Mess up. Put some elbow grease into the process. And when I do everything I possibly can and it doesn’t work, will I keep fighting? When the advice, tactics, and tips make me feel like a failure, will I keep showing up? Am I willing to listen to myself, to find my own way, even when the way other’s have traveled isn’t working? Am I brave enough to create my own roadmap?

YES!

Amen.

Game face on.

 

Love,
Taylor

Hey Soul Sister

Yesterday I was savoring a delicious breakfast in the company of these two lovelies. We were discussing workplace dynamics, conflict resolution, documentaries, progressive women’s movements, faith, etc. Ya know, the usual…

While sipping my coffee, I stopped to think about what my closest girlfriends do with their lives. I came up with the following:

Revitalizing neighborhoods, community building, leading people in worship, parenting, studying to be a midwife, assisting refugees with urban gardening and childcare employment, researching for child and welfare policy, coordinating volunteers, managing projects and events, serving people onboard aircrafts, teaching America’s youth, leading missional outreaches across the globe, helping homeless families transition into stable housing, campaign management for healthcare reform, and running their own small business.

You know, I think Jesus was spot on when he said that to be a leader you must first be a servant. These women are the most service-oriented people I know and that is one thing that makes them incredible leaders. The occupation part is just a glimpse. They also serve on committees, volunteer in churches, grow vegetables or knit scarves and give them away, teach yoga classes and mentor at-risk kids. THEN, on top of that, they also find time to bring me lunch when I’m sick, take me to the airport at ungodly hours, dance with me, remind me of my self-worth, defend me, let me get snot all over their shirt as I sob into it, accept my flaws and allow me to see theirs. They challenge me to see God in new ways, they inspire me with their intellect and passions and they bring me comfort with their presence (along with a million other tiny and big things).

In the last week some of these friends have told me:

-They were sexually harassed in workplace environment

-They attempted to lead a group at work and were immediately shut down

-They didn’t feel heard or that their voice mattered

Siiiiggghhh. I hate that.

And there’s nothing I can do to fix it or make it go away. I also hate that.

BUT, I just want to say:

Chin up, cookie.

You are courageous for being where you are and doing what you do.

You are lovable for making the world a better place with the work of your hands and the fruit of your spirit.

You are capable of leading one or one-hundred-thousand with your voice and your abilities.

You are valuable because you exist. And good Lord, am I thankful that you do.

Fight for a place at the table. Speak up. Make waves. Cause a ruckus. Practice your Wonder Woman stance.

Love,
Taylor

 

At The Moment

I am…

–Suffering from Peter Pan Syndrome. Being an adult + the arrival of Summer = severe symptoms.

You start growing up accustomed to this work hard/play hard cycle of school life and then all of the sudden you’re in a NO BREAK EVER life. What?! Who approved this?

Can’t I just not reply to work emails for three months and then come back in September and pick up where I left off?

Remember the glorious adrenaline of the last day of school? It signified the arrival of the freedom months. It meant full days spent at the pool with your best friend, ingesting an ungodly amount of freezer pops. It meant mischievously prank calling boys who still had little girl voices, sprinklers and water guns, turning three shades darker without even trying, multiple sleepovers a week, eating tubs of raw cookie dough with Doritos and frozen pizza (metabolism…what’s that?), sweaty hand holding, building rafts at the beach, wearing a swimsuit 3/4ths of the day, road trips to thrilling places like Adventureland, and living completely unconcerned about what time you had to wake up in the morning.

Now Summer means sitting at a desk all day praying to God the office AC doesn’t break. It means forcing yourself to be productive when all you want to do is float down a river inside of an inflatable donut or take a nap in a hammock. It means still setting your alarm, still getting dressed, still paying bills, still feeling worthless after a workday, etc.

I’m not saying Summers aren’t fun anymore. They’re still the best. But you never get back those few months of blissful, ignorant, youthful freedom. And that is a tragedy. RUUUFIIOOO.

–Grateful for friendships near and far. I think something unique happens when people become friends because the universe brought them together in another country, for a specific amount of time, to experience something intense and out of the ordinary together. I’m not exactly sure why, but for me at least, there is a pull to keep those people close. Maybe because they’re my only few ties to a life altering experience. Maybe because we lived in places and spaces where all we could do was talk. For hours, days, months. My friend Melissande and I have been in a season of communicating frequently. It’s been 5 years since we were aimlessly wandering the streets of Morocco, but we’ve continued to share life over Skype and through cards/packages. My friend Sarah, who I met in YWAM, asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding this Summer- yeaaahhh! I’ve stayed in touch with the three people I interned with in Uganda, visiting and checking in with each other. Each one of them has really been there for me lately, even if we’re oceans apart. It means a lot. And I’m constantly blessed and amazed by the friends I have surrounding me every day. I don’t know why or how I got so lucky. As cliche as it sounds, they make me a better person and I would be in a far darker place right now if it weren’t for their love and zeal for life. So thank you (you all know who you are). A million times. Thank you.

–All about the little victories.  When you find yourself challenged beyond what you thought you were capable of, the small victories become all the more precious. Stress and worry have tried to swallow me whole the past few months, but there is one victory I have been relishing in: the absence of self-doubt. I believe in myself. Don’t ask me why the realization of that comes as a bit of a surprise. But I’m proud of myself. I know that I am capable. Of reaching new levels of health. Of obtaining my dreams. Of saying no. Of great love. Of conquering fear. Of gracefully embracing change. Of deeper faith. I’ve got this. Breathe. Keep your eyes open, your chin up, and your heart full.

 

Love,

Taylor

A Look Back

I was reading through some writings from my time doing art therapy in Uganda and this one particularly stuck out to me this morning:

Each girl has a few minutes to draw whatever she would like. After a while, Megan and I asked them to close their eyes. With eyes closed, Megan and I took black markers and drew some sort of line on their drawing. Essentially, we messed up their pretty little pictures. After we let them express their shock and disappointment, we challenged them to make the black mark a part of their drawing. Turn it into something. Don’t let it ruin the picture, but instead think of it as an opportunity to create something new or different.

And just like that the black lines went from being dark, obstructive, and out of place to being jump ropes, snakes, mountains, gardens, boats, hearts, etc.

Sometimes in life someone or something comes along and messes up your picture. You weren’t ready for it. Your eyes were closed. Maybe you opened up your eyes only to see that someone abducted you at 14 years old and now you’re forced into killing people with your bare hands. Maybe you opened your eyes only to see that your spouse cheated on you and ran off with all your money. Maybe you opened your eyes only to see your house burning in a forest fire. Maybe you opened your eyes only to see that the dream you were chasing is never going to be a reality. Black marks look different for everyone, but they invade all of our pictures from time to time. A lot of people let black marks define their pictures. But, like we told the girls, “You and God in you are capable of making something good and beautiful come from something that once seemed dark and horrible.”

A friend recently told me, “God doesn’t eliminate evil. We don’t really see evidence of that. He transforms it.”

God doesn’t give or use erasers, He’s more creative than that.

I don’t know about some of you, but I’ve got lots of black marks in my picture right now. I feel like all I can do is pray and hold onto my marker. Challenge accepted.

Love,

Taylor