Don’t Feel Sorry for Me.

My college pastor always said “readers are leaders.” But how about readers make better baristas? Or the fact that there’s something intrinsically fun about the act of reading? Books, especially hard bound ones, have come to represent a poetic statement, saying “I resist progress, convenience, and will have more toned arms than you because I’m carrying and reading this heavy dinosaur.” A phone can never say that much. Well, unless someone calls you. But you don’t have time for that, you’re reading!

My sister told me about Agatha Christie mystery novels and I’ve been hooked lately. She always does a nice little twist at the end that you don’t see coming, and you are ALWAYS wrong about who the murderer is. But the main character usually figures it out.(Spoiler alert) or the main character ends up being the killer. (WHAAAAAAAT!!!) There’s something enjoyable about a trivial story, and I have to occasionally silence the pretentious English Major in my brain (Shakespeare! Chaucer! Austen!) and just enjoy a story for a story’s sake. You can’t eat cheeseburgers every day, but neither can you afford a 5-star dinner night after night.

After my mom passed away I decided a great way to spend the long bittersweet summer days was to lose myself in a good book – lighthearted chick lit or breezy paperbacks. But I forgot that even the most simplistic mind-numbing story arcs require conflict, loss, someone coming to town or someone leaving town. A surprise twist of the loss of a favorite character, or an unforeseen illness, or a person running away in the middle of a thunderstorm (a little heavy-handed, I think). Like the Western movie my dad likes to quote, a younger cowboy laments around the campfire “I just want a normal quiet life.” And the older, wiser Cowboy just replies, “there’s just life. Just life.”

I started to feel sorry for myself “Why can’t I just read a happy book?!” I deserved to escape for just a few minutes, maybe an hour. But I forgot that books are works of art, and art is supposed to touch on the deepest emotions of life – even poorly written books attempt to address what it means to be human. Even children’s literature, where happy endings are readily welcomed, the main characters are usually orphans (I’m looking at you Harry Potter).

Pity is very different from compassion. Pity is closely related to guilt, which proves useful if it moves you to action or to compassion, but soon proves useless if it’s sets up camp in your soul. When I practice self pity is tries to drown me in thinking about myself, and wallowing in what I’m missing. Compassion lets me sit through the uncomfortableness and acknowledge its presence and to set boundaries. Pity scrolls though pictures on Facebook on Mother’s Day, compassion goes for a walk and talks with a friend. So I have to tell myself “Don’t feel sorry for me, me!” (You talk to yourself too, I bet 😉

So extend compassion to those around you. Don’t judge a book by it’s cover, life circumstances, education level, style, or weight. We can’t all be a sleek e-reader, in fact, some of us feel like the musty hardback at the bottom of a soggy cardboard box at a yard sale with a 25 cent sticker. Sometimes I’ll catch myself scanning a crowd and thinking “I wouldn’t do that with my hair.” “No one else is wearing a skirt, why am I wearing one?” “Why are they walking/talking/acting like that?” I call it “middle school syndrome” where you are simultaneously judgmental and self-conscious. The worst part is, you’re only hurting yourself by entertaining snap judgements. I think it’s easiest to get caught in this trap of being self-conscious and pitying yourself when you’re going through a transition. Life’s all topsy-turvy so you want to complain. You feel like you have to find your identity all over again.

What if we threw more celebrations of life’s milestones instead of indulging in a pity party? I read an article talking about how we celebrate marriage anniversaries, but do you ever stop to celebrate being friends with someone for many years? I think that a good way to be thankful and to move away from focusing on yourself is to celebrate someone else. Lend a book to a friend and ask them what they thought. Give a compliment without expecting a “You too” in return. Send a text saying “Thank you” for many years of friendship that you might be taking for granted. Keep track of other people’s accomplishments like a Grandma bragging about her grandkids.

 

Off to read a book. Or an article. Or maybe the ingredient list on the back of a cereal box. Don’t judge me 😉

 

Katrina.

 

 

What I Will Do to Not Look Stupid

When I was undergoing training in de-escalation techniques for working with children with behavioral challenges, we learned that most people become angry or disruptive just to avoid appearing stupid, especially in the classroom. Well, some days I will do just about anything to not appear dumb, unintelligent, or lacking. 

I haven’t felt the need to write. Either what I wanted to write about felt too personal, or I was too happy. Happiness doesn’t make for good writing. Happiness is jumping off a dock and sticking your head out of a car skylight (don’t tell me they’re called something else). Happiness is best lived and enjoyed, with maybe a picture or two to prove to your future self that you really felt free and that the sun came out. Happiness doesn’t ask you to slow down and contemplate why beads of water stay on ice cold bottles in commercials, but runs down the glass on your own drink. Or question your existence, intelligence, or life purpose. Why? Because you’re too busy taking one more bite of delicious pie. 

The pie is not a metaphor. I was actually eating pie.


I got a new haircut, discovered I’m still terrified of glass bridges, I figured out how to pull better espresso shots, I took a trip to Portland with Jesse for our one year anniversary. and I held on a little tighter to my thoughts. They seemed like that $100 bill in your purse you got for your birthday in a card that you know you can spend however you want, and you let it stay in your purse for just a little bit because it makes you feel powerful. A piece of paper makes your purse seem heavier. I became self-inflated with my own ideas, and in the process became stingy in my words.
“Do you realize how stupid you sound/look?”was a cutting phrase that echoed through my brain. Underlying this phrase, was the idea that if I stopped talking or writing and just kept my thoughts “pure” in my head where no one could comment, disagree, or criticize that I would be safe and could still consider myself to be smart.

Have you ever found yourself at an Asian restaurant where everyone is using chopsticks, and there’s no forks, and you’re really hungry and kind of embarrassed that you can’t eat anything. And your sweet husband tries to teach you how to use chopsticks while you frantically try to flag down a waitress to beg for a fork. Then you worry that you look dumb and culturally insensitive, when really you’re just tired and hungry. Well, it’s happened to me. I felt like an idiot.

“Don’t be a fork in a world of chopsticks. You’ll feel like an idiot”

-What my fortune cookie should’ve said.

Fear of appearing stupid. It’s uncomfortable. It’s consuming. And you suddenly and quickly forget to care or see other people. We’ve all had a “friend” who really just made us feel worse about ourselves and who pushed us down to make them look better. Sometimes we’ve been that “friend” to someone else because of our own insecurities.


I think back to this weekend and getting to see the Multnomah Falls for the second time in my life. The waterfall seemed to reach all the way to the sky. The sun lit up the edge of the cliff making it look like it had been haloed. It was awe-worthy. And for a moment I said “Thank you” to a creator who made and makes beautiful things in this world.

I’d rather be filled with awe than consumed with the fear of appearing stupid.

You’ve got to look outside of your own thoughts to gain perspective, and I suggest looking to Jesus, because he was not a God who silences people because the world thinks they’re dumb. Marginalized. Female. Too poor, too rich. Jesus gave a voice to those who were willing to humble themselves and see Him for who he really was instead of obsessing over their own appearance.


What has filled you with awe this week? What moments have made you forget your own petty insecurities and embraced a new perspective? Who do you need to stop hanging out with because they make you feel “less than”? Can you consider that you might be that person?

 

Sincerely,

 

the girl who finally sorta learned to use chopsticks for about 10 minutes before giving up completely because she was starving,

 

Katrina

 

Who Do You Walk With?

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Who do you walk through this life through? Who supports you and looks up to you? With people can call you without hesitation?  Who will willingly take shoe selfies with you for your “blerrrg” (blog)?

I recently signed myself up for a Whatcom SmartTrips account, which means if I bus, ride, or walk someplace (like work),instead of using a car I can log my miles and be entered for fun prizes. I logged a few days of walking in this sunny sunshine week, and it informed me that over the last month I’ve burned 1,100 calories walking/biking. Which is basically equivalent to how many cake calories I’ve eaten at work, so it works out, you know? Hahaha. It’s crazy to use such a simple tool that tracks the steps, pedals, or bus rides you take and then gives you the larger picture: miles, calories burned, gas money saved.

What if we could see the same larger picture with the people we spend time with? You’ve  spent two years as roommates and spent approximately 340 hours belly laughing” or “you were the first to congratulate them in their new job.XP 400.” Obviously a point system with gift card rewards would break down the beauty of friendships and relationships inherent giving and sometimes selfless nature, but it’s a funny idea to think how the small choices we make inevitably effect other people’s lives. More than I want to admit.

Carpooling, walking, and taking the bus are all fundamentally more social than driving solo in your car. When driving by yourself, there is a large metal barrier between you and everyone else. You can barely make out faces of people driving next to you. You talk to no one except yourself, even if you’re yelling at the other cars. Is it anti-social to drive a car by yourself? Or is it just more convenient? Are people inconvenient? Most of the time, they get in the way of a lot of things you would like to accomplish within a timeframe. Especially the chatty ones. Apparently, I can be one of those people if you get to know me well enough and supply enough caffeine.

 

what about trains, man?

I don’t want to follow a God who grows weary of my chattiness. Who views my feelings and thoughts and time as a waste of, well, time. I read an article the other day about how small talk gets a bad rap because it seems meaningless, when in reality, it can serve as a connecting point between two people even if it’s brief and nothing substantial is talked about. It simply sends the message of: “Hey! I see you as a person and I’m willing to briefly converse to show that I acknowledge we are both individuals with worth (pharasing a lot here). Which gives me hope for the many seemingly insignificant conversations I have when handing over slices of cake to people at work. I asked a lady last week, “Are you celebrating anything today?” And she told me that she was marking the anniversary of the day her son had entered hospice. And my heart broke a little bit. I told her I also had anniversaries like that and she said, “So you understand” and I replied, “As much as I can.” I think that was a God moment (most moments are) because it was a time where small talk turned into an opportunity where two people could say that they understood each other as much as is possible in this life. Wouldn’t our relationships shift dramatically if we were able to understand each other’s experiences and emotions, or at least admit we were trying our best? I wish I could say that was true every time I interact with another human being.


Sometimes you just get tired. Or you try a new exercise routine and don’t drink enough water and end up with a splitting headache (true story). But the moments when you are able to be present and connect with people still matter, and the days when you’re tired or sick or whatever don’t cancel out the days you’re “on top of things.” It’s not a reward system, remember? Nobody is following you or asking you to keep a log. But maybe there are times when it seems like a friendship mastermind has put you in a conversation or time with a person you never expected or could’ve orchestrated, and somehow you are able to say, “Hey! You matter. You have worth.” Be brave and maybe a little caffeinated and try it out.

 

Got to go. Laundry is done.
Katrina