One Word

The other day, I turned fifty. It was just another day, but I'm glad my two oldest children remembered to call. Maybe my husband and I will think of something fun to do this weekend. Instead of expecting birthday flowers or eating out, which I no longer enjoy, I told him I would like his help planting something permanent and attractive in an ugly area of our front yard. Last week, we chose some plants and estimated the cost. After we know about our financial situation, we'll decide whether or not to splurge a bit on the project.

During my last year in the forties decade, the pace of life took my breath away. Last April, our daughter returned from eighteen months of service on an L.D.S. mission. A week later, our third child left to serve a mission. Two months later, our oldest son married a wonderful girl. I didn't document any of these major events in words, except in my personal journal. The rest of the year? It's been loaded with church service and daily life with extended family, a husband, and our three children who remained at home. I also completed a freelance editing project (400-page novel) and wrote two Christmas novelettes that I submitted to publishers. (All of them rejected the manuscripts. Oh, well.)

I've outlined the big events, but not their emotional impact. But I felt that I finally progressed in the following ways:

•  Although we've lived in our town for decades and contributed to our church and schools, I learned that we are not very important after all. At first, it was a painful lesson as a rather small fraction of invited guests trickled into our son's wedding open house. But the happy couple didn't care. Why should I? Afterwards, I made a list of what we'll do differently next time one of our children gets married. I was glad we'd lived within our means, keeping this event a modest affair. I felt gratitude for those who helped. I also reassessed my negative emotions that were really hurt feelings left over from junior high. So what if we're not the "cool kids" in town? Social status doesn't matter. How liberating to renew that affirmation in a different stage of life.

• I'm beginning to believe in miracles again.  After years of trying to honestly deal with hard realities, I've often felt cynical and pessimistic. It's been hard to pray or muster enough faith to believe in divine help. It's taken some time to regain perspective, but I can't deny evidence of God's help through people who have touched my life and the lives of others in my family, especially one son. He wouldn't be where he is without it.

• The best way for me to confront writer's block is to . . . write! Just write through the fear of what others might think and the fear that what I produce isn't good enough. Write through the falsehood that words have to be polished perfection in the first draft. That's how I finally felt the joy of creating something again, even though it was difficult. Like giving birth, it's worth the pain of hard labor.

I've been blessed with physical health and am taking steps to optimize it so I can accomplish goals I've set for coming decades. But all of my goals depend on one word that I want to forge into a strength: mindfulness.

It's hard to achieve when so much has to be done. Too often it gets smothered by the details of life. Take this past year, for example. Good things happened, but I experienced them while on emotional autopilot. I know it's a hallmark of depression, but it's not how I want to live and I'm sure it's not what God intends for us. 

I didn't know what to do differently. Faced with the necessity of feeding crowds of people at our family events and cobbling together a wedding open house on a nonexistent budget (we had to pay hundreds in taxes instead of getting the refund I was counting on), I just shut down. Yes, I acted like biblical Martha's clone, but hiring a caterer was not an option. I didn't have a fairy godmother to wave food, formal clothing, or even minimal wedding decor into existence. So, with the help of family and friends, we "rolled up our sleeves" and did it ourselves.

I truly despise focusing on what I view as superficial aspects of my life that is now at least half-way over. I don't want to spend much time or thought on the practicalities or mere survival. I'm sure plenty of others feel the same. But, unlike Henry David Thoreau, most of us can't spend years in solitude. At this stage of life, a significant portion of my energy must be devoted to feeding, clothing, and caring for my family. God has been so good to me that I feel obligated to do my best serving the women in my ward (congregation) by planning social and service-oriented activities. As a compromise, I'll try to capture some moments of silence and wonder through the course of each day. Still, some extended time at Walden Pond sounds like the perfect birthday present in my book!