I’m a fixer. I have little tolerance for poorly-functioning organizations and irrelevant traditions. Yet I want to imagine myself as someone who is not afraid of daily sacrifice and short-term discipline that lead to long-term results. But do you ever get overwhelmed by your idea-bank, that list of things that need to be addressed and that list of ideas you might implement to address the challenges you’re facing? Sometimes, because of my perfectionistic tendencies, I can tend to think too small and only address a few things because I want to do everything perfectly. (Not “perfectly,” per se, but perform things with some level of thought, skill, and professionalism.) But do you ever feel like you don’t have the needed expertise, education, or even the proper personality or social skills needed to address the issue at hand?
Last year, I found myself in this situation only like a HUNDRED TIMES, and I’m learning that even though I’m 26 and supposed to know Stuff, it’s okay to experiment sometimes; I can guarantee you it will lead to important observations along the way.
Don’t be afraid of trying new things. I mean, there’s a possibility that you might learn something, but that’s just a risk you’ll have to take.
Things I did imperfectly in 2015, but at least I TRIED:
1. Motivate my students to get better grades and to enjoy school.
Um. So promising to take kids skiing may not be the best idea ever because, what do I know about organizing school trips that have the potential for breaking bones and being canceled due to the weather?
Also, due to students’ requests, I organized a trip to a local mosque for visiting a weekly service. What do I know about Jumu’ah, and what should I tell my students about respectful interchanges with Muslims? Despite my lack of experience in these types of exchanges, we went anyway. Unsure what to do when we arrived, I told the boys to just “figure it out,” as they were whisked away to a different part of the building before we even left the parking lot. In the end, I found that doing something that doesn’t follow “my plan” and isn’t especially comfortable for me can be really beneficial to those around me, specifically my students.
This year I also implemented a “Blessing Slip” policy for my homeroom to complement our school’s “Demerit Slip” misbehavior policy. I haven’t implemented this policy perfectly, and I don’t know if it’s working how it’s supposed to (to motivate students to develop good character instead of just pointing out their faults), but it at least SOUNDS like a good idea.
2. Actually cooking.
So I made this salad.
And a bunch Greek-seasoned meat in my crock pot. And I burned a bunch of salmon. But. I learned that if you don’t know much about cooking and if you don’t have a recipe, you really shouldn’t bother. So. 2016. Year of the Recipe. This is also the year of perfecting my French press brew. (I’m so bad at brewing freshly-roasted beans. But I have 365 days to keep practicing getting it perfect, so… things are looking up.)
3. Celebrating friends and family.
BOOM. Golden birthday this year!
I spend a lot of time talking to people in their 20s, and one thing that these (single) people talk a lot about is how our social groups aren’t very large or varied and how hard it is to develop community and fellowship for ourselves. Even though many of us do not have the support, friendships, or even church relationships that we always imagined, that does not mean that we shouldn’t celebrate the people we’re surrounded with, no matter how complicated those relationships are. We’re realizing that community is a beautiful thing that should be celebrated in all of its forms.
We are also realizing the immeasurable value of family. And that some of the best celebrations are the quiet, unpublished ones you share with family.
Because, seriously. Aren’t my parents SO CUTE.
And. Even though the internet is OVERRUN with baby pictures. (Seriously, is that all that is on Instagram these days? Kid pictures?) I’m indulging myself and publishing pictures of MY CHILDREN, my ahDORable nieces.
Sabrina, the impossibly thick-haired infant.
Cassidy, the incredible smart almost 2 year old, who already excels at imaginary play.
She loves dollies and measuring spoons and pretending to feed people. She is also extremely gentle, patting her infant sister in the tenderest of ways. Honestly, my favorite memory from Christmas was when we were alone in the kitchen together, and even though I am very self-conscious being with children, I found that jumping as high as I can makes her smile, so I kept jumping and jumping, and it was so ridiculous, and I realized, Oh. This is what is beautiful about hanging out with a child. Letting go of your inhibitions to love them.
4. Exercising safely.
Failing to finish a marathon was one of my biggest disappointments this year, along with suffering a pretty significant running injury that is forcing me off the road for several months. Is it ironic that the year that I’ve focused the MOST on my health is the year that I’ve spent the most time in the doctor’s office? However, I’ve learned a ton about this specific running injury and other aspects of healthy living and healthy exercising.
Also, is it ironic that the year that we have an impossibly warm winter, I’m laid up from all exercise due to strict instructions from my podiatrist, and I’m missing what could have been the most active outdoor winter exercise season ever in my minimalist, gym-less existence? Friends, we will be having a moment of silence for all those missed winter runs.
Sigh. Thing I’m not doing in 2016: giving up on exercising safely. Weight room: I am looking at you. (Staying off one’s foot makes it nearly impossible to exercise (cheaply), but I hope to at least return to cross training soon! Also, to lifting all the [small] weights.)
5. Writing more.
Last spring had flown by, and I, realizing my poor blog had been neglected, quickly typed out a snarky little post and dashed off with friends to celebrate that another year of teaching was in the bag, and that day for the first time Shasta’s Fog BLEW UP with caring and crotchety commenters. While I’m not going to relive the finer points of the things I learned from THAT experience, I think it is safe to say that (1) it happened, and (2) I’m still writing despite.
I’m also occasionally sending pieces over to The Elkhart Truth as a community blogger, and while I’m not nearly as prolific as I want to be as a writer, I’m realizing that even small steps count, and really great things can come out of doing even a little bit, rather than doing nothing at all. For example, there I am, sending occasional pieces to an online county newspaper when Jeffrey Trachtenberg from the The Wall Street Journal reads my summer reading post on the Elkhart Truth page and reaches out to me and ends up quoting Shasta’s Fog in an article about Harper Lee’s sequel Go Set a Watchman! It was a lesson to me that in writing, every little bit of effort counts.
In conclusion, I kind of hate this post, because I hate mediocrity, and this post is pretty much me telling you: it’s okay to be mediocre. But the point is: being mediocre is better than not being anything at all. Living imperfectly and asking for the grace of God to infuse your experiments is better than giving up and saying, “It’s impossible to expect change here.” Demanding small changes is better than suggesting monumental revolution at the expense of relationship. (Hmmm, do I believe that? It remains to be seen.)
I think this year, I’m in the balance. Between shielding blossoms in hope and crushing those growing blossoms, outfitted in rugged hikers, and climbing for higher ground.
In 2016, don’t stop.