I look at the curve of him curled up, because he is too tall for this bed (or any bed, really), I look around at our as-yet unfinished bedroom even though it's been 10 months since we've moved in, I know the pieces of unfinished house and yard that lie beyond this unfinished room, and yet I marvel at how lucky I am. I know it will all be finished, together. And we are lucky for that. But is it really luck? Or is it something else?
So much in the past few days has had me thinking... conversations with Jason about how our first few weeks together seem like another lifetime ago, moving a friend going through a tough time, a quote left floating on the FB page of another, the responsible famous father who pulled his son out of a big college football program because his son isn't making responsible choices and I realize... most of life isn't made of luck, it's made of choices. Making them, taking responsibility for them, owning when they are wrong, and changing them. We don't cruise along on the wings of luck. We flap our own by choice and fly or fall, accordingly. No one else is to blame. No one else gets the credit.
My friend, going through a hard time said, "Hard to train yourself on what's healthy and what's the right choice versus what's routine and temporarily feels good". My other friend posted a quote that said, "When it feels scary to jump, that is exactly when you should jump, otherwise you end up staying in the same place your whole life." And Keyshawn Johnson Sr., when asked what his son's opinion of leaving the Nebraska football program was, replied, “I never asked him,” Johnson Sr. said. “At the end of the day, I don’t think that decision was in his hands. He squandered that decision. He still wants to play football, and he still wants to play for Nebraska. But if you don’t do the things you’re supposed to do, under the guidelines of me, it’s not going to happen.” So even in squandering choice, Keyshawn Jr. made a choice that meant he temporarily had choice taken away. So he could learn how to own up. And grow up.
Choices are hard, they will be judged by others, commented on, ridiculed or held up for praise. But none of that can factor into YOUR choices. That's what I'm learning, that's what I want to teach my kids. That's what I hope to exemplify at work and at home. Much of life is choice, and often the hardest choice, the most uncomfortable, the one that takes you out of routine, is the right one.
Choosing to come to Oregon was not easy for me. I wanted to stay close to home... where I could retreat to my parent's house to ponder my next steps or cry or do laundry or rest if my dorm was less than peaceful. But I left. I wanted to be a journalist at the time and Oregon had a top-5 Journalism school. And Oregon, something about the quiet and the green, had been calling me since my dad drove me through it at 15 years old. But that choice, started the road to where I sit now, still next to my sleeping husband, happy and complete, despite my unfinished house. So it wasn't luck that brought me here, it was choice. I could have let the outside voices that told me that I was choosing a second-tier school after also being accepted at UCLA and Berkeley was a mistake, sway me. I could have let the voices about small towns and rain and the fear of leaving home change my mind, but routine and comfort don't = right. So I left and ignored the voices. I CHOSE.
Choosing to stay in Oregon was not easy for me. I had graduated and planned on returning to California. But my best friend and I decided to give love and marriage a shot. It would have been easier to go home, move in with my sister, study teaching and become a teacher in my old environs. But that's not what I needed to do. So Mike and I found our first little low-paying jobs, married and struggled, found a groove and had kids. The judges and outside voices came then too. I was letting someone else change my path. I was throwing away teaching for a minimum-wage job just to stay in Oregon. Those voices were wrong. I chose the path that was uncomfortable, because I needed to stay here. I CHOSE. And I would not be sitting here content, had I returned home.
Choosing to leave my marriage remains the hardest decision I've ever made. Oh boy and THEN did the judgement and voices rain in. I was leaving him for another man (try again, not correct). I was leaving because I was angry with Mike and he wasn't good to me (no, we did not fit, but he is a good man). An old friend who I admittedly grew too close to online while I was weighing my decision, but wisely let go of, tried to take the blame (nope, incorrect again, he is blame-free). I was having a mid-life crisis (no sorry, this decision had been bandying about in my head for around 7-8 years). I was choosing a selfish path and harming my kids. But I had been facing for years, and didn't like it when the counselor had pointed it out, that I had actually stopped choosing and had settled into a harmful pattern that was easier than breaking it. A HARMFUL pattern for us and our kids. Mike and I both had. We never chose "us". We had settled into that routine that many admittedly settle for - never getting up together, never going to bed together, dividing up everything into "his time" and "my time", "his job" and "my job" - but it didn't work for us. I just didn't want to see it, and neither did he. But as our kids grew mysteriously anxious, stressed, angry, in need of counseling despite our "solid home", the uncomfortable choice loomed in front of me. I HAD to see what I didn't want to see. The moment when it's scary to jump. So I jumped. The judgements remain, but they will have to lay behind me with the road I've traveled, because I own my choice. It was the one that needed to be made. For me, for my kids, and for Mike. So we could all have a chance to make choices that grew us, fulfilled us and didn't leave us blindly following a rut that we were too tired to leave. So that mysterious stress that loomed over us all, could dissipate. I chose.
Choosing to date again was also hard. Jason and I speak of it often. Finding ourselves single, although we did not yet know one another, we already shared one thing - we were not "looking" and that made others uncomfortable and made us weird. So many single people were out there having to "have someone", needing to date, not wanting to be alone. When our friend told us we should meet, we both brushed it off initially and when we finally met, spent a ridiculous amount of conversation on "but I'm not looking for anyone, I don't want to date right now". But something was there. Undeniable. Like the pull to Oregon. Some strange pull. Something not quite comfortable. The big jump. So we began to CHOOSE each other. Every day. We choose the discomfort, the lack of routine, the sometimes roller-coaster ride that is blending two families. We still choose it. Because it's the right choice... the one that fulfills us and our kids.
I had envisioned a peaceful life of single motherhood where there is no compromise or blending, just routine. I think he figured he'd be peacefully single too. But we choose this road instead. We refuse to settle for "routine", we get scared if we find the road blending into the bland beige of perfunctory kisses, automatic "love you too's", seats at separate ends of the couch or "you take out the garbage and I'll cook"assignments. Instead, we choose every day to keep the priorities clear - time with the kids, time alone with each other, working TOGETHER, family vacations to a treasured lake house, sitting next to the other just to feel touch even if it means setting aside "what has to be done", still writing love notes or messaging each other like we did when we first met. We keep jumping. We keep choosing. We keep trying to teach the kids to choose, own up, try, try again, take responsibility, face fears, say sorry, give, give again, contribute - keep jumping. Life is not a passive event. You don't get pass on blame or credit... both are yours.
Keyshawn Johnson Sr. said in that interview about his son squandering choice and not taking responsibility, that "there is no cruise control". I love that. No cruise control.
Is life luck or choice? Admittedly a mix of both... but heavy on the choice. So when you feel afraid, look closely at why. In the uncomfortable choices and the big jumps are where LIVING lie. And why just exist, when you can live.
My friend, going through a hard time said, "Hard to train yourself on what's healthy and what's the right choice versus what's routine and temporarily feels good". My other friend posted a quote that said, "When it feels scary to jump, that is exactly when you should jump, otherwise you end up staying in the same place your whole life." And Keyshawn Johnson Sr., when asked what his son's opinion of leaving the Nebraska football program was, replied, “I never asked him,” Johnson Sr. said. “At the end of the day, I don’t think that decision was in his hands. He squandered that decision. He still wants to play football, and he still wants to play for Nebraska. But if you don’t do the things you’re supposed to do, under the guidelines of me, it’s not going to happen.” So even in squandering choice, Keyshawn Jr. made a choice that meant he temporarily had choice taken away. So he could learn how to own up. And grow up.
Choices are hard, they will be judged by others, commented on, ridiculed or held up for praise. But none of that can factor into YOUR choices. That's what I'm learning, that's what I want to teach my kids. That's what I hope to exemplify at work and at home. Much of life is choice, and often the hardest choice, the most uncomfortable, the one that takes you out of routine, is the right one.
Choosing to come to Oregon was not easy for me. I wanted to stay close to home... where I could retreat to my parent's house to ponder my next steps or cry or do laundry or rest if my dorm was less than peaceful. But I left. I wanted to be a journalist at the time and Oregon had a top-5 Journalism school. And Oregon, something about the quiet and the green, had been calling me since my dad drove me through it at 15 years old. But that choice, started the road to where I sit now, still next to my sleeping husband, happy and complete, despite my unfinished house. So it wasn't luck that brought me here, it was choice. I could have let the outside voices that told me that I was choosing a second-tier school after also being accepted at UCLA and Berkeley was a mistake, sway me. I could have let the voices about small towns and rain and the fear of leaving home change my mind, but routine and comfort don't = right. So I left and ignored the voices. I CHOSE.
Choosing to stay in Oregon was not easy for me. I had graduated and planned on returning to California. But my best friend and I decided to give love and marriage a shot. It would have been easier to go home, move in with my sister, study teaching and become a teacher in my old environs. But that's not what I needed to do. So Mike and I found our first little low-paying jobs, married and struggled, found a groove and had kids. The judges and outside voices came then too. I was letting someone else change my path. I was throwing away teaching for a minimum-wage job just to stay in Oregon. Those voices were wrong. I chose the path that was uncomfortable, because I needed to stay here. I CHOSE. And I would not be sitting here content, had I returned home.
Choosing to leave my marriage remains the hardest decision I've ever made. Oh boy and THEN did the judgement and voices rain in. I was leaving him for another man (try again, not correct). I was leaving because I was angry with Mike and he wasn't good to me (no, we did not fit, but he is a good man). An old friend who I admittedly grew too close to online while I was weighing my decision, but wisely let go of, tried to take the blame (nope, incorrect again, he is blame-free). I was having a mid-life crisis (no sorry, this decision had been bandying about in my head for around 7-8 years). I was choosing a selfish path and harming my kids. But I had been facing for years, and didn't like it when the counselor had pointed it out, that I had actually stopped choosing and had settled into a harmful pattern that was easier than breaking it. A HARMFUL pattern for us and our kids. Mike and I both had. We never chose "us". We had settled into that routine that many admittedly settle for - never getting up together, never going to bed together, dividing up everything into "his time" and "my time", "his job" and "my job" - but it didn't work for us. I just didn't want to see it, and neither did he. But as our kids grew mysteriously anxious, stressed, angry, in need of counseling despite our "solid home", the uncomfortable choice loomed in front of me. I HAD to see what I didn't want to see. The moment when it's scary to jump. So I jumped. The judgements remain, but they will have to lay behind me with the road I've traveled, because I own my choice. It was the one that needed to be made. For me, for my kids, and for Mike. So we could all have a chance to make choices that grew us, fulfilled us and didn't leave us blindly following a rut that we were too tired to leave. So that mysterious stress that loomed over us all, could dissipate. I chose.
Choosing to date again was also hard. Jason and I speak of it often. Finding ourselves single, although we did not yet know one another, we already shared one thing - we were not "looking" and that made others uncomfortable and made us weird. So many single people were out there having to "have someone", needing to date, not wanting to be alone. When our friend told us we should meet, we both brushed it off initially and when we finally met, spent a ridiculous amount of conversation on "but I'm not looking for anyone, I don't want to date right now". But something was there. Undeniable. Like the pull to Oregon. Some strange pull. Something not quite comfortable. The big jump. So we began to CHOOSE each other. Every day. We choose the discomfort, the lack of routine, the sometimes roller-coaster ride that is blending two families. We still choose it. Because it's the right choice... the one that fulfills us and our kids.
I had envisioned a peaceful life of single motherhood where there is no compromise or blending, just routine. I think he figured he'd be peacefully single too. But we choose this road instead. We refuse to settle for "routine", we get scared if we find the road blending into the bland beige of perfunctory kisses, automatic "love you too's", seats at separate ends of the couch or "you take out the garbage and I'll cook"assignments. Instead, we choose every day to keep the priorities clear - time with the kids, time alone with each other, working TOGETHER, family vacations to a treasured lake house, sitting next to the other just to feel touch even if it means setting aside "what has to be done", still writing love notes or messaging each other like we did when we first met. We keep jumping. We keep choosing. We keep trying to teach the kids to choose, own up, try, try again, take responsibility, face fears, say sorry, give, give again, contribute - keep jumping. Life is not a passive event. You don't get pass on blame or credit... both are yours.
Keyshawn Johnson Sr. said in that interview about his son squandering choice and not taking responsibility, that "there is no cruise control". I love that. No cruise control.
Is life luck or choice? Admittedly a mix of both... but heavy on the choice. So when you feel afraid, look closely at why. In the uncomfortable choices and the big jumps are where LIVING lie. And why just exist, when you can live.
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