Thank Heaven For Little Girls

"Sugar and spice, and everything nice..."

Is that what we want our little girls to be? I picked my daughter up from a playdate this afternoon at a local cafe. When I got there, she and her friend were pretending to be bunnies. It was super cute. The problem was, the bunnies were getting a little too excited...and loud. The other mom and I kept trying to say things like "Volume down, please" and "Bunnies underground", but to no avail. The excitement level kept rising. There were a few other people in the cafe, on laptops mostly. One woman in particular kept glancing at the girls. Once, when I said "volume down", she said (to no one in particular), "Yes, shut up girls, please".

Mama lion came a'roaring. I didn't think I had a mama lion in me, but suddenly there she was. I had enough self control not to make a scene, but I did directly address this lady regarding my daughter.

Now, I am a quiet person for the most part. I love having quiet places to read and think and sip coffee. I like my evenings at home to be spent listening to soft music, curled up on the couch with a book. I am hyper aware of how loud I am when there are other people around me (like my downstairs neighbors). But to have a stranger tell my daughter to shut up was the last straw in a large haystack of restrictive measures forced on my kids by other people. My daughter has some special issues going on, and lately I feel like all I hear is "Her issues are not tolerated here." And "here" is pretty much anywhere.

Be quiet at school and sit at your desk. Be quiet at home so the neighbors can relax. Be quiet in the restaurant so others can eat in peace. Be quiet in church (though I must say, our church is amazing when it comes to letting kids be kids in our worship space). Be quiet on the train. Sit nicely in the waiting room. Don't make a scene in the grocery store. Don't bounce the ball while the coach is talking. Be especially quiet on airplanes.

It just goes on and on. And I get it. I do. We can't let kids run around screaming all the time. What kind of world would that be?! I guess I'm just wondering where the more energetic, vocal and excitable kids get to be the ones dictating proper behavior. Now that I am dealing with more of these issues regularly with my daughter, I find that we are being pushed out of public spaces that exist to help people relax. Well, where are the spaces, especially in the middle of winter, where hyper kids can also enjoy themselves?

And how, as a mom, have I contributed to my daughter's socialization as a girl who must always strive for stillness and quiet, so that other people are not bothered? It shames me to think of.

We need to let our kids know how beautiful they are, even if they are not embraced in public life.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 30

Well, we made it! Thanks for taking this journey with me. For the past month I have tried to find beauty in places I would not normally think to look for it. I have tried to comment on beauty that often goes unnoticed or is not classified as such.

I think what I've learned from this experiment is that, notwithstanding a few deep-seated, cultural stereotypes about beauty, I actually find it pretty easy to recognize the beauty around me.

It's much, much harder to recognize the beauty in me and in the circumstances I find myself in. I keep looking all around me and seeing beauty...and wishing that I could possess it, somehow. I still don't think I've truly internalized the truth that others see beauty in me that they wish they could possess. We all want what we think we don't have, right? Most of us, anyway. We are discontent. Well, okay--at the risk of pushing some of you away, I will keep this personal. I am discontent.

I am aiming for that day when I can see something or someone beautiful, appreciate it, and then turn around and be thankful for exactly who I am and what I have in that same moment. That sounds like freedom to me.

So here goes. This morning I saw a mom at my daughter's school with beautiful hair: shiny black with copper highlights, falling past the small of her back, slightly wavy. I appreciate that I can look at her hair and appreciate the aesthetics without having to deal with that much hair to wash every day myself.

Okay, now I have to turn around:



Hmmm...well, I see a beautifully smooth shape, a curve that is aesthetically pleasing. I see easy maintenance (and most of the time I am extremely thankful for that). I see connection to sun, sky and cold that many people don't feel. I see soft skin that loves to be touched with gentle admiration. I see a blank canvas. I see a woman who is totally unique and will probably always be noticed.

Deep breath...wow, that was hard! Okay, now you try. Celebrate the beauty of YOU!

I will take a couple days off from writing but this month-long experience has created momentum for me to write more frequently, so I will see you back here soon.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 29

Umm, beauty...having a hard time with this tonight.

Oh--today I saw a woman who was clearly from Africa coming back from the grocery store with two bags of food in her hands...and a 24-bottle case of Dasani water on her head. She was turning around, she was getting keys out--and the bottles never wavered. Unbelievable.

Later at work I walked by a woman's office...and she was working on her laptop while she was walking on a treadmill. In a skirt and tennis shoes. Door wide open. And why shouldn't it be?

How beautiful to see traditions and quirks being lived out in the middle of "normal" life. Of course. Because traditions and quirks are what are normal for us. Maybe not to everyone else, but they are identity-building for us.

Unfortunately, I have always tried to "fit in" and hide anything that sets me apart from what I consider to be mainstream. But I think it's time to free my mind and live in the oddities and customs that make me who I am.

Isn't it fun, after all, to begin to get to know someone well enough to discover those things that make you go "huh"?! Like, "Wow, I never realized you could carry water bottles on your head", or "So, you like to dance in your living room in front of a mirror?"

How about those things that you have always done, never questioned, and could never let go of? The things that never enter your consciousness until you move to a new place where "those things" are done differently? Take pride in them and rediscover their beauty. Don't hide them.

And let's look at the flip side: when you see someone doing something that is clearly not in the realm of "normal" for you, look on in a spirit of admiration and non-judgment. After all, the things you take for granted as "normal" are probably pretty quirky to someone, somewhere.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 28

Radical acceptance.



I learned this concept in Mindfulness therapy. We did this exercise where we had to close our eyes and think of an event or situation that filled us with a lot of tension and stress. We had to think of something we were saying "No" to. No, I don't want to come home for Christmas. No, I don't want to go to work on Monday morning and face my obnoxious boss. No, I don't want to have the same fight about finances again.

Then our leader had us practice saying "Yes". And with that simple word, it was amazing what happened physically. Just saying the word "yes" relaxed my shoulders and released the breath I didn't realize I had been holding.

This therapy session was a couple years ago, but the idea of "radical acceptance" has stayed with me. It's the idea so eloquently expressed on bumper stickers: "S*** happens". Life is not going to be easy. The more I can accept the situations and circumstances I find myself in, without trying to fight my way out of them, the more peaceful and healthy I will feel.

This is not to say that I should lie down and take everything life throws at me. I have choices to make. But if I spend my energy saying "This shouldn't be happening to me" then I will have no energy left to make wise decisions.

Sara Groves has a song called "Starfish" which expresses the same idea: "Peaceful creature, come and be my teacher. / Flotsam, jetsam, swish and swirl, and you don't even care."

I don't think it conflicts with my Christian worldview to practice radical acceptance. I choose to (try to) follow the teachings of Jesus, and he says not to be anxious about circumstances (Matthew 6:25-34). The reason I can practice radical acceptance and say "yes" to my circumstances is because a)I know suffering is part of the human condition for now, b)I am usually not in control of my circumstances, only how I respond to them, and c)I profess to believe in a God who cares about my life and is ultimately taking care of me. That's pretty hopeful in the long term. Radical acceptance puts short-term problems into long-term perspective.

The word "yes" is beautiful, but not always easy to say. I'm thinking of it today because I am having a hard time with this alopecia today, and I am facing unwanted truths about a difficulty my daughter is going through.

Can you think of anything you have been inwardly saying "no" to? Would a radical "yes" set you free?

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 27

Israel Idonije. Defensive lineman for the Chicago Bears. Nigerian-Canadian. Daycare teacher? Founder of a charitable organization that serves at-risk youth in Chicago and impoverished families in Africa? (Check out the Israel Idonije Foundation.)

I heard him on the radio today. I love hearing about people who surprise me. As much as I hate to admit it, I view the world and the people in it through stereotypes much of the time. I love being confronted by my assumptions and shown a different news reel, so to speak.

I have been listening to public radio a lot lately. I love hearing about people, places and events that are hidden from the mainstream. These stories open up whole new avenues for me. My city is taking on new dimensions now that I am hearing real stories from real people every day in my car. I have a list of places I want to explore and events I need to put on the calendar.

Here are just a few:
Louder Than a Bomb: Chicago Youth Poetry Festival
Peace on Earth Film Festival at the Chicago Cultural Center
On Being American and More: A community conversation

It's a beautiful thing to become invested in your city or your community. I am growing to love Chicago and all the amazing programs going on here. Now, I don't have time to become a local activist or anything. But I do have time to take a step back and appreciate the fact that Chicago is not always what I assume it to be based on my very limited experience.

What stereotypes have you recently been delighted to find are wrong?

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 26

Fuchsia. Emerald. Chartreuse. Ferrari Red. Electric orchid. Cyan.

No, these are not the names of celebrities' kids. You are probably aware that these are all colors. Colors of what, though? Sports cars? Nail polish?

Yes, at times. But sometimes, incredibly, they are hair colors!

One of my best friends recently dyed her hair this vibrant shade of red that can only be modified by the adjective "shocking". It's absolutely fabulous. It's a short, spiky cut that was made for this color red. And it's not that I really love the color. It wouldn't have been my first choice for her, actually. It's the fact that she took a risk and steps out every day in confident vulnerability that I love.


(Obviously this is not her, but the red is the same.)


Today I saw two women with similarly unconventional hair colors, and I couldn't take my eyes off their heads. Both had incorporated this beautiful, bottled purple color into their natural hair color, with stunning results.


I love the fact that we have the capability of decorating ourselves with such audacity. Not that we need it--but we can if we feel like it. And in my case, I don't even have to get messy. I just go down to the corner, buy a $30 wig from the neighborhood beauty supply store, and I'm good to go.



My absolute favorite is the black and purple combination. I love black and purple hair.
It is so sleek and darkly refined, strong without being tough.


Some say coloring your hair this boldly is unnecessary, wild, rebellious, anti-social, disrespectful, and on and on. But in this age, I think it's nothing but an expression of personality, mood, and/or desire. It's all in how you carry yourself. I personally think it's great that my kids have seen me put hair on and take it off without making a big deal of it. My daughter will have to think of another way to rebel, because I would love it if she came home with electric blue hair one day!

If you could try on a funky hairstyle for a day, what would you try? I thought I would be the last person on earth to wear chemically-dyed hair, but I've done it and it is pure liberation. Here are some looks I want to try:





Any votes?

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 25

After a whole slew of days that looked like this--



--we finally had one that looked like this:



The sun has been so long in coming that my three-year-old couldn't stop asking me why it was so sunny this morning. My poor child doesn't think it possible that we could have a sunny day in winter!

Although it was too cold to get outside and enjoy the sun today, it was incredibly good for my soul to its afternoon rays streaming through my window as I played with my children. I felt this familiar comfort wrap around me, although it's a comfort not entirely free of melancholy. It's that winter afternoon light kind of feeling. I hope you have felt it before. It's the feeling of being totally at home, yet knowing that there is something fleeting about this moment--and also realizing the promise that you will find your true home one day.

All at the same time.

This kind of light most often hit me in the mountains as a young girl growing up in Colorado. It was very romantic; the kind of light for dreamers, which I have certainly always been. So now, when I see the same shade of afternoon in my city condo, I feel especially at home...and especially drawn to another place and time. It's a lovely paradox. It's being thankful for grace while knowing I have not experienced the fullness of it.

What's your favorite kind of sunshine?

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 24

Thank you to all who responded to yesterday's post! I saw truth in all of your comments. Ultimately, yesterday I didn't see beauty. I lost my temper with my kids, had some major disappointments during the day, and let resentment take hold of me.

But this morning, I began my day with music. Not just listening to music, but intentionally hearing, playing and singing songs that would provide me with a way to sing about beauty I couldn't quite see yet. I asked God to come near as I let my heart be softened by beautiful music and my mind be instructed by truthful lyrics. I guess in Christianese this is called "worship". I have not taken this blog in any specific spiritual direction, mostly to appeal to a wide variety of readers. But honestly, as a Christian, I have to be true to the experience I had.

And I spent some time in worship.

I wasn't lifting my hands or speaking in tongues. (And I'm not saying that to put those practices down.) I just sang and asked God to help me believe the words, things like "You are my strength when I am weak"; "Rejoice, Emmanuel will come to thee"; and "He'll move heaven and earth to come rescue me when I call".

I can't say I felt too different after my morning in song. But I did have a more peaceful day with my family. Some could argue that this was the calm after yesterday's storm. Or it was Saturday and I had a morning to myself.

Whatever really happened, I am thankful for God always being willing to be sought after, even if it is in desperation and little faith. And believe me, I have little faith. But God can take my little faith and still do great things. My decision to seek Him instead of escape into fiction or Facebook this morning set the tone for my day and made a difference. And it was beautiful, in a non-Earth-shattering way.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 23

I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I thought I be super productive and get tons of housecleaning done today. Part of that grand ambition included doing a load of laundry--pristine whites, to be exact. This load included my husband's undershirts, our bedsheets, and a brand new white shirt I bought last week.

Well, you may have already predicted what's coming next (hint: look at today's picture). Yes, there was a bright red dust rag in the bottom of the washer, unbeknownst to me. I'm not sure why, since I was the one who threw it in there earlier this morning after dusting.

So I have pink sheets, a brand new pink shirt, and I will send my husband to work with pink undershirts.

I suppose I should laugh. The thing is, this is only the latest in a long string of similar mishaps--stupid accidents that waste money and could have been prevented had I been paying just a bit more attention.

Here are a few of my recent "brilliant" moments:
--left son's potty seat in the locker room at daughter's swim lesson
--booked a flight under the wrong date
--left butter and cream cheese out on my counter all day after a trip to the store
--put chicken in a crock pot and then forgot to plug it in all day
--lost daughter's permission slip for a field trip (still can't find it, deadline is today)

...just to name a few. And that's all in a week's time.

So where's the beauty in this? That's where you, readers, come in. Today's post is interactive. I need your help to see beauty today. I keep having brief moments of confidence and contentment, only to be quickly reminded how close I am to the edge of a breakdown! I exaggerate...but not by much.

So help me see the beauty in my life and my crises. Because all feels futile right now.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 22

Happy Valentine's Day!

I'm doing things a little different today and posting in the morning! A few reasons why:

A. I want to see if the time of day affects who sees and reads my blog;
B. I already saw beauty today and I can't imagine seeing anything better;
C. I hope to spend my evening Valentining, not sitting in front of this computer!

Wow, sorry for all the exclamation marks. I must be happy today. Well, it is Valentine's Day, which means love (in all its forms) is all around.

You know, there is no better place to be on Valentine's Day than at the grocery store. Not only are you probably buying chocolate for yourself (admit it), you also get to watch the most beautiful thing ever: men buying gifts for their Valentines.


I don't want this post to sound trite. I realize that many people are dealing with pain, loneliness, broken hearts, and guilt today. But maybe it will help to read about the beauty of the interactions between strangers on this day when love and romance are celebrated (don't let your cynical side take over...I know this is a Hallmark and Hershey kind of holiday, but let's push doubt aside for the time being).

This morning I was at the store buying deodorant for my husband (that's what Valentine's Day can devolve into after years of marriage!) and I decided to pick up a couple plush animals for my kids. While I was in line, this guy in front of me was going back and forth between two very similar Valentine bouquets. He was undecided right to the very end. I so wanted to intervene and reassure him that both were equally lovely!

(Picture this guy, only in a parka, hoodie and military-style boots.)


The male cashier gave him such a big smile and genuine "Have a Happy Valentine's" that I had to come home immediately and blog about it. How beautiful is it to see two grown men looking like proud eight-year-old boys?!

Now, I don't know this man's story. I don't know who the flowers were for, or what was going on in his mind and heart when he decided to buy them. But as I looked around I saw dozens of other men holding heart-shaped boxes and balloons--not being terribly creative, but certainly making an effort--and I thought it was a beautiful sight. For that instant, they were thinking about how to please a partner, friend or relative. The toughest exteriors often conceal soft, plush hearts that only want to please. That's lovely, isn't it?

What beautiful interactions have you witnessed today? Whether you have someone giving you a Valentine or not, maybe it's time to redefine Valentine's Day and see it as a chance to witness unselfishness all around, if only for this one day. No matter your situation, that can be celebrated.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 21

“You should not worry about the dings and the dongs, they are nothing but echoes.” -- Corrie Ten Boom

She was writing about forgiveness. When we are bound by wrongdoing, it's as if a/the devil were pulling on a loud, clanging bell. Once we receive forgiveness, the rope is let go. Any bell-like noise we may hear from then on is just the echo as the bell stops its swinging, no longer given momentum by an outside force but swinging, nonetheless.

Well, I am going to misappropriate this quote tonight. Even though it is Ash Wednesday, I am not going to write about forgiveness--I hardly feel qualified.

Instead, I am going to write about a freedom that operates much the same way. Actually, I should say "freedoms", because each reader will relate in a different way. So different, in fact, that I can't exactly name this freedom. But hopefully you will recognize it.

Have you ever had an obsessive crush on someone? The kind that keeps you up at night and causes you to routinely go out of your way in the hopes of crossing that person's path? You cry every night from the pain of knowing (for whatever reason) that you will never be with that person. But you move on, slowly. Maybe that person disappears from your life for some reason. Whatever the case, whatever the time frame, one day you realize that you haven't thought about that person all day. And at some point, you realize that even if you ran into that person you would not depart their company with that painful longing. You would, and will, be fine.

Or have you ever lived with a fear that you couldn't shake? The kind of fear that weakens your heart and deprives you of sleep, sucks all enjoyment from life, and saps strength from your body? You worry and worry about this thing and it becomes your constant companion, even as it moves from the front of your mind to the back...and to the front again. But you seek help: prayer, medication, counsel of friends, whatever it may be. And you mature. And one day, you are confronted with the very thing you feared, only to find that the fear slipped off your shoulders at some point. And you are free.

There are countless other situations like this, where something has a hold of you for so long that you begin to reference it when you give self-identifying information. And the release from it can come on gradually, like that bell that continues to ring after the rope has been let go. We may still hear the echoes, but essentially we are free. We may slip and act like it still has us in its grasp, but only out of habit mostly.

Today I was driving to the post office during my lunch break and I realized that I was content. I realized that I was living in total freedom from a couple things that used to plague me. And it was such a beautiful feeling! I knew it was total freedom because the knowledge of being set free did not spark any feeling of bereavement or temptation to go back to a familiar way of living. Total freedom. If I'm lucky, maybe even the echoes will have died out this time.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 20

Writer's block again.

I really enjoyed my dinner tonight. Green beans, green peppers, mushrooms, onions, garlic and slivered almonds sauteed together and served over rice with Rosarita seasoned black beans and pot roast (leftovers, don't ask). But is that beauty?

I helped my daughter make a jellyfish out of paper plates and yarn. That was actually a great couple of hours. We found this amazing Paper Plate Crafts book at the library and the ideas in the book are right up my alley: cheap, relatively easy, and ideal for the "artistically challenged".

When it came time to paint the jellyfish, I had her pour a little bit of tempera paint on a plate, being careful not to let the different colors touch. Of course, the first thing she wanted to do was mix it up. I hesitated, not because I am anal about colors mixing, but because I know she can be. I went ahead and let her mix the colors, hoping she wouldn't mind the mess that would come of it.

She loved the unique shade she had created, so all was well. Then she decided to do another part of the jellyfish in a different style--stripes of vivid, separated primary colors. Now I was really sweating. I could see the blue running into the yellow before she noticed it. I held my breath and didn't say anything...

...and then it happened. The colors mixed as she was painting...

...and she was delighted!

She totally rolled with it. And I realized something. She wasn't painting a jellyfish. Not really. She wasn't going for some end result that she had planned in advance. She was simply painting for the feel of it. She loved feeling the paint under her brush, coating every varied surface of the paper plate. She loved watching the colors change before her eyes. She loved feeling that "exactly right" amount of resistance as she stroked with her brush.

It was all about the process, not the product.

Some days, it's about the product. I need to pay more attention to the cues in order to know which is which.

When it comes to projects like this, I am all about the finished product; and, not being very artistic myself, I am often totally frustrated and disappointed in what I come up with. It seldom matches the blueprint in my mind.

But my six year old beautifully reminded me today to be present in the process. The final product will carry within itself the story of successes, failures and lessons that the process brought about.

Are you a process person, or a product person?

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 19

Okay, I have absolutely no idea what to write about tonight. Today was full of inconveniences, mistakes, wasted time and money, irritations, etc.

Seriously, I am staring at the screen trying to pull something out of you-know-where.

Ah...okay. I got it. And you have no idea how much time has elapsed. My little secret.

So last night I was woken from sleep around 2:00 a.m. to change my daughter's sheets. Then I couldn't get back to sleep due to apocalyptic-sounding winds beating against my windows. So I had some time to contemplate the night. Literally. I was thinking, wow--it's really the middle of the night. It can't get any darker, though I live in the city where it's never really dark.

Which gets me thinking about darkness. I have always loved the night. When I was in high school I used to sneak out of the house late at night...to walk through the neighborhood. I wasn't getting into trouble. I was just enjoying the mystery and semi-danger of the night. I loved seeing lit-up windows, cozy domestic scenes just feet away from me, and realizing that I preferred to be on the outside, in the dark.

But what if I were to find myself in total darkness? The kind of pitch black that hides everything from you, where you can't see your hand in front of your face? I don't think I would find that kind of darkness beautiful.

What I love about the dark is that lights become magical when they shine into it. You can really feel the warmth, power, and romance of lights when they are surrounded by darkness--yet not overcome by it. I have to be standing out in the dark sometimes to truly appreciate the light. When I am surrounded by light, it doesn't grab my heart in the same way as it does on a dark, rainy night.

So the beauty of darkness is really the beauty of the power of light.

When was the last time you contemplated how wonderful it is to see a light in the darkness?

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 18

Today I meditate on the beauty of grace. Of second (and third) chances.

I met a man named Pete today. Pete founded a company called Second Chance Coffee in Wheaton, IL. And it's not the coffee that needs a second chance--believe me, it's high quality. No, the "second chance" in the name refers to his employees. Pete hires, through a selective referral process, post-prison men and women to roast, package, sell and deliver his coffee.

The coffee has been branded "I Have a Bean". Without it, there would be seven more formerly incarcerated individuals trying to get back on their feet and reintegrate into productive society--and being barred at every turn.

The term "felon" probably evokes an image in your mind of a big, scary guy with tattoos and a scowl who is out to hurt you and your family--over and over again--unless we stop him by casting him out from our community.

But what if there were more to the story? What if this man, tattoos and all, made a mistake and had many valuable skills and a great personality?

In our society, certain mistakes carry longer-lasting consequences than others. I agree--obviously there are degrees to which people can get hurt, and there are corresponding degrees to which "offenders" need to be held responsible and make amends.

What I don't understand is why certain mistakes carry life-long sentences. Is there any mistake that one person should have to suffer with for the rest of their lives?

This is only the tip of the iceberg of this discussion. I know that. I'm not looking to spark any heated debates. I just want to introduce this unique organization as a model of grace and say that I think grace is absolutely beautiful.

I have made so many mistakes in life, some that have hurt others and some that have hurt only me. I depend on second, third, fourth (and on and on) chances all the time. I can't imagine trying to live my life if I had no access to those chances.

Check out www.ihaveabean.com and see how beautiful (and practical) redemption can actually be. And take a minute to meditate on the chances you have been given.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 17

Tonight I rediscovered the beauty of laughter. I haven't really laughed in awhile. Not because my life is so sad, but because I simply got out of the habit. Less nights out with girlfriends, more nights in washing dishes, you know how it goes.

Well, tonight I enjoyed hearing my own laugh. And that in itself is a beautiful thing, because for years I have despised the way my laugh looks and sounds. Self-conscious through and through, I have always been afraid of people finding my horsey-mouth laugh unattractive. Horsey-mouth=big open mouth, lots of gums showing:




Okay, it's not that bad, really. But that's pretty much how I look in my head.

And you know what? That image has kept me from experiencing what I think might be called, in Biblical terms, "fullness of joy".

Well, tonight I laughed (admittedly, with one and only drink in me) and I loved the sound of it. And I didn't care what I looked like--mostly because I was in a dark corner of a restaurant.

Hey, it's a start.

Do you love your laugh?

(Photo seen at http://lauriegan.blogspot.com/2010/09/dont-look-gift-horse-in-mouth.html)

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Days 15 and 16

Your eyes do not deceive you. Due to the migraine and general malaise that knocked me out at 8:30 last night, I was unable to post anything for you. I know you have been waiting with bated breath to see what I will say. And yes, it's "bated", not "baited". I checked.

So today you get a two-fer.

Yesterday:
"for nothing contributes so much to tranquilize the mind as a steady purpose..." --from Mary Shelley's Frankenstein.

I read this yesterday and it confirmed what I had been feeling for awhile...purpose really is beautiful. We need to have goals, big and small. I hate to say it, but my old habits (which I still fall back on all too often) of escaping into naps, movies and Internet time-wasting when I'm stressed, tired, restless, or depressed (pretty much all the time) just don't fulfill me like I always think they will. When I am working or have a plan for my day, I just feel better. I may be a bit harried or tense sometimes, but overall I think that's better than the lifelessness I descend into when I don't have purpose...and the resulting guilt and shame. That's why Rick Warren's book was so popular.

Don't get me wrong--I don't want to be a workaholic. I probably need more breaks and "down time" than the average person. But my down time needs to have a purpose in order for it to truly bring me rest and lead me to wholeness. If I plan to watch a movie because I know I need it, fine. I can watch it and enjoy it and not think about it later. If, however, I have no specific plan for my day and I just end up watching a movie, I end up feeling sad, stressed out about all the things I didn't get done during that time, and guilt that I wasted two hours of my life.

Moderation in everything. I'm a big believer. I just have to get out of my bad habits and bring more purpose to my days.

Today:
Rhythm is beautiful. I had another lesson on the djembe today, which I never thought I would be able to play. It turns out that I just have to learn my little rhythm part and play it, no matter what everyone else is playing. Speaking of purpose, it's so much easier for me to play a set rhythm than to try and improvise. That's why I love this drum class--I get a certain part and I play it. And I'm part of the circle, adding to the song.

I learned a samba rhythm today!! I have myself chills, really. It's so beautiful to feel a steady beat and move to it, improvise on it, and just know that it's...right. That even if you get lost, you wait for that 1-count and you can find your way back.

Thank God for rhythm.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 14

The wallpaper shown above is called "Girlfriends" (available at http://www.scenicreflections.com/media/264457/GIRLFRIENDS_Wallpaper/). I love this picture. I think it shows how girlfriends never grow old, how we lean on each other as we look at life around us, and how we rely on each other's perspective to color the scene before us.

I love my girlfriends. They are beautiful and all very unique. I have been appreciating them so much more lately. Tonight I relied on my girlfriends to help me out of a Mommy Guilt trap.

You see, this afternoon I was planning on writing an entirely different post. I was playing in the snow with my kids after school--and we had an unbelievable (and long overdue) wonderful time together! We made a snow turtle, we threw snowballs at each other, we were carefree. Part of why I was able to enjoy this time was because one of my girlfriends offered to take my kids for the evening so I could go to Zumba. I was going to write about how the afternoon was all the more precious and beautiful because I knew I would have time to myself later and I recognized how short my time with my young kids really is.

But...then came time to go inside. Let's just say it was a very different scene trying to get my kids safely up the stairs and into the house. They must have gotten tired, because they were completely punch-drunk. Long story short, I ended up losing sight of the precious time I had with them and losing my temper completely. It wasn't pretty. Later, of course, I felt like the last woman on earth who should be allowed to be raising children. I felt like scum for yelling at my kids, especially my daughter.

So naturally I cried to my girlfriends. They calmed me a bit, they shared their own horror stories, they gave me perspective. And in their company, the things that were eating me up inside suddenly didn't feel so toxic. I felt hope.

Thank you, my lovely friends. The ones who received my pain tonight, and others who have been there on countless other occasions to hold me through the most trying of times. You know who you are. I love you and am so grateful for you.

You are beautiful.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 13

Today the beauty I want to share about is something I have not actually experienced yet. I'm hoping to get there soon--maybe you can help.

When you think of a beautiful woman on a beach, what do you see in your mind? This:
?

Or maybe this:
?

Almost certainly, you would not see anyone looking like this:



Long hair is critical to the image of a beautiful woman on the beach, isn't it?!

We tend to think in "types", or at least I do. The stages in my mind are set, and only characters who fit the description will be given parts. When I imagine what characters in my novels look like, my images are greatly influenced by the descriptions of the settings those characters are in. I might picture a cute blond with short, spiky hair if the scene I meet her in is a nightclub. If a woman is on horseback in the scene, then she has to have long hair billowing out behind her.

I guess these images must come from movies or book illustrations I was inundated with growing up. No matter--they're there, and they have so twisted my self image now, as a bald woman, that I have actually kept myself from doing things I know I would love because my "image" doesn't fit the scene in my mind. I will probably never allow my husband to dance with me if I am not wearing a wig or a long scarf I really feel feminine in. In my mind, a dancing couple is made up of a woman with hair falling down her back and a slightly taller man with his hand at the small of her back and his face half-buried in her hair, taking in her scent and her softness.



Well, I'm tired of defining myself by my so-called deficiency. I'm tired of saying "You can't walk on a beach/ride a horse/dance unless you have hair (i.e. "look like a woman").

The beauty I write about tonight is the beauty of re-imagining myself as a character in the scenes I have set in my mind. Here are a few shots of women in "scenes" I would never have imagined this way:










I hope I can see myself enjoying any opportunity life brings my way without worrying whether I'm what the director is looking for. I am the director of my own life, after all.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 12

Everything as it should be.

How does that phrase make you feel? Personally, I feel at peace. Some of you might feel bored, but this is for the people who read that and breathe a deep sigh of relief.

Today I woke up to more snow than I have seen so far this winter--and that's not saying much. This and last winter have been incredibly mild for the Chicagoland area. I haven't complained. It was wonderful to take my kids to a park after school in January because it was 60 degrees! It felt so healthy and life-giving. No, I didn't complain and I won't if it happens again.

BUT...this weekend my husband and I took our kids sledding, and today I tromped through several inches of snow and slush to and from (and to and from, over and over again) schools and work.

I hated it (well the sledding was fun, but the slogging and scraping is not). But because I am growing used to the idea of seeing beauty in unexpected places, that phrase popped into my head: "Everything as it should be."

It should be cold and nasty in Chicago in the winter, for heaven's sake! I don't like it, but there is something beautiful and right about kids bundling up to go sledding in February rather than picnicking in the park.

I say this because I grew up in Colorado. For readers who grew up in places like California and Saudi Arabia, "winter" means something totally different.

So take the general idea and apply it whatever you want. Where in your life can you see the beauty of "the natural order of things"? Where have things been off lately? Do you embrace sameness or change--or both equally?!

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 11

Today I want to encourage you, especially women out there, to see how beautiful your emotions are. Women who feel a lot, and let people know how they feel, are often criticized for being "too emotional".

What?!

How can it be a problem to feel too many emotions? I understand the point: we can't rely on our emotions when we are making critical decisions. Emotions can be highly volatile and capricious.

So tell us to make sure we know the source of our emotions and explore assumptions we may be making. That's fair. Don't tell us to shut our emotions off.

I talked to a friend today who got tears in her eyes telling me about her feelings regarding a certain situation. I actually think this was the first time I have seen this friend with tears in her eyes. She was beautiful in that moment, partly because I could see into her heart and partly because I could connect to it. That's what emotions do.

Emotions are not to be feared, even when they are making us scream and hit walls and cry for an hour. They are tools for communication. I will never understand why certain methods of communication are more highly favored than others. If we have to get a message across, we will most likely do it in the form that best fits the message to us in that moment. There needs to be much more space for relaying messages through emotion. We all need to become better interpreters of others' emotional messages.

Take what I say with a grain of salt. Obviously, there is a lot more to this issue than I want to delve into here. Let it suffice to say that I am a huge supporter of "overly emotional" women (and men, although that is rare).

Take some time to get in touch with how you are feeling right now. If you could express yourself with as much freedom as a three year old, what would you do? Giggle until you threw yourself into a coughing fit? Throw yourself on the floor and scream until you were red in the face? Explore the beauty of raw emotion and appreciate it in others. This is what separates us from computers. This is my challenge to you.

(Picture taken from http://fineartamerica.com/featured/emotional-woman-natalie-holland.html)