Difficult conversations take courage. Using Ring Theory to know what to say to someone who’s grieving or in crisis can give you the confidence you need and help you convey your compassion without saying the wrong thing or making them feel worse.

Mother’s Day can sometimes feel complicated … bittersweet, even. My mom died a little over a year after I got married, and two years before I became a mom myself. I missed her even more after my son was born, because I realized that now we had a huge thing in common, except we couldn’t share it because she was no longer here. Had I known, I would have asked her so many more questions and bottled the answers for when I needed them. How did I think to ask for her recipes, but not nuggets of parenting wisdom?

I’m an empty nester now, but there are some pearls of wisdom I learned along the way. If I could roll back the clock, learning a few of them earlier may have saved some unnecessary stress over the years.

Hope allowed me to experience peace, to give and receive love, to appreciate moments of joy, and to live on purpose in the hardest of circumstances. It also led me to stay present (not allowing my mind to fly to an unknown future) so I could take meaningful action, one small step at a time, one day at a time. In a previous chapter of my life, I had experienced the opposite of hope – despair - which made me feel paralyzed, cynical and emotionally disconnected. I’m grateful that I’ve learned I can trust what’s true: there’s always hope.

It was a Sunday morning in October and we were exhausted, more so than usual.  The previous day we had been a couple hours away at our son’s college soccer game.  It was fun, but such a close game, and my son’s team lost in the last couple minutes.  We got home late as is typical on game days.  Our friends were at an event that we’d been invited to, something to do with fundraising for a movie, and it was all too much to squeeze in one more thing.  That Sunday morning, we had come home from church, and I don’t remember the source of our conflict, but the wedge between me and my husband was pretty huge; both our feelings were hurt.

A text message from my friend popped up in my phone.  She and her husband and another couple who are friends of ours had organized the whole gathering last night and they have that after party excitement.  She’s suggesting coming over to our house with brunch and some friends she wants us to meet.  They want to share, and just need our TV, she said.  They’d planned between them to bring the food and the movie directors so we can see this morning what we missed last night.   

“No thanks” I texted back.  “It’s not a good morning.”  My husband came in the room and told me her husband was texting him simultaneously, and he had said “sure, come on over.”  

I’ve been struggling to put words on paper in this season of life, which is full of transitions and uncertainties.  All the accompanying emotions are hard to articulate. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster ride that I’d like to stop so I can get off and watch from a comfortable distance.  The jumble of emotions feels conflictual, chaotic, all too much and not nearly enough all at once.  The very high highs and very low lows are appropriate responses to the circumstances perhaps, but they’re uncomfortable. I like my emotions to be stable. Even Steven. Predictable. Controlled. 

The problem is, life isn’t in my control, or yours either for that matter.  Big life transitions, and work and health challenges are guaranteed for all of us.  What is in my control is how I choose to respond to everything that’s happening. I can embrace the highs and lows and allow myself to experience my emotions as they bubble up; or I can retreat to my comfort zone, stuff the emotions and choose stability because I prefer the illusion of being in control.  The latter option is very familiar for me, because it’s been the path I’ve chosen for most of my life. 

High School graduation for my “baby” came fast!  She graduates on Friday and when she heads off to college in August, my husband and I will officially be “empty nesters.”  I know she’s ready to spread her wings and fly, and well prepared to be on her own.  I’ve been preparing myself for this moment for the last several years, so I’m a little surprised by the waves of emotion that have been stirred up as the ceremonies and celebrations have begun for Senior week.  I have a month’s supply of tissues to get me through the next five days, and I’ll rely on a little help from my friends to remind me that we’re all ready for this chapter to end, and a new one to begin. 

The tension is real, though.  We’re happy for her and excited for us, while simultaneously experiencing a bitter-sweetness in this transition. 

Mother’s Day, of all holidays, has the potential to bring up a host of complicated feelings.   

• For some of you, today might be a beautiful day filled with gratitude and joy. 

• Others of you are experiencing Mother’s Day with a grieving heart for babies you can’t have, or babies or children you lost.   

• Some of you have chosen not to be moms and wish people accepted your decision. 

• Perhaps you have a painful relationship with one or more of your kids, and today brings up feelings of regret, sadness and disappointment. 

• Maybe you have a painful relationship with your mom, and unresolved hurts. 

• Or perhaps you lost your mom, and today, like every day, you grieve and miss her presence in your life. 

Joy, gratitude, regret, grief, guilt, disappointment, loss in varying measures are just a few of the feelings that may be present today, and maybe you’re feeling all of the above.  No wonder it’s complicated.

In last week’s blog, I pointed out that your mindset matters, because it drives your behavior and your response to circumstances in life, good and bad.  Dr. Mark Hyman says that “Your mindset is your collection of attitudes, your established approach to life in all ways – how you respond to challenges, how you express gratitude, how you manage your time, and how you take care of yourself are just some of the parts of your life that you can assess to get a better understanding of your mindset.”  There are many ways that a growth mindset can be cultivated, and one of them is by practicing mindfulness. 

The word mindfulness is everywhere, and seems like a buzz word in the last few years.  I like the concept of mindfulness, because its opposite, mindlessness, is where I’ve found myself getting stuck in unhelpful patterns if I’m not careful.  Let’s face it, though, mindlessness has its place in life.  It’s freeing, and sometimes more efficient, to be able to switch off our brains and not have to think about every single thing we’re doing. 

In February, my husband and I enrolled in a class for middle school and high school parents called “Cultivating a Growth Mindset in Your Child.”  As a life coach and fan of Carol Dweck’s Mindset, I was curious, “How can parents create a growth mindset in their kids unless they have one themselves?”   Dweck teaches that the opposite of a growth mindset is a scarcity (or fixed) mindset.  If you have a scarcity mindset, you can learn to adopt a growth mindset, but you can’t instill a growth mindset in others until you actually have one.  Why?  Because, as the saying goes … you can’t give what you don’t have.  Well of course, that was exactly the focus of the first lesson … discovering our own default mindsets, and growing in awareness so we could create the results we say we want for our kids.  In other words, developing a growth mindset for ourselves is required before we can pass one on to others. 

I hung up the phone wishing I had let the call go to voicemail.  I felt soooo tired and resentful and didn’t know why “yes” slipped out so easily and quickly.  In that moment, I knew I didn’t have another “yes” in me.  In fact, I wanted to stand on a rooftop and shout “Nobody ask me for anything else! … I’m tapped out … past my limit … and I’m drowning over here in case nobody has noticed!”  So, I wonder, why was it so hard for me to say “no”?  As Anne Lamott says, “No is a complete sentence.” 

Have you ever said “yes” when you meant “no”?  I did it all too often for many years.  People were in a habit of asking me because I was a “yes” girl.  I made myself available.  I said yes to a lot of great things, and many of the things I said yes to were intentional.  But sometimes, I was overstretched and over committed, and I wished I’d said no. 

It’s an east wind … the wind’s coming from the east and blowing west.  This is the first thing I learn in my kitesurfing lesson, and as I’m standing facing due east, the wind is directly in my face, catching noisily in my ears.  When I turn just a little bit, the noisy wind dies down.  The beach is perfectly positioned for learning to kitesurf without too many waves, and just the right wind – not too strong and not too light.  I like it because it’s not crowded with other kite surfers … only six of us here with two instructors.

I have butterflies in my stomach, excited but nervous to learn this sport that my husband discovered many years ago and introduced to the kids over the last couple years.  They’ve been raving about it and now I’m the last to learn.  I want to love it as much as they do! 

August 15, 2018

Kim: Crista! Crista! Will you talk to me?

Me: Mmmmm … what?

Kim: Will you talk to me?  Something’s going on and I want you to talk to me.

Me (groggy):  Are you sleep talking?

Kim: No.  I feel like there’s a rock concert going on in my head and I’m trying to figure out what’s real.

I’m jarred wide awake.  Something’s seriously wrong. 

Last week, I shared my belief that self-care encompasses the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual care of ourselves.  It’s not a luxury, but an essential component of our well-being.  Laurie Buchanon, PhD, agrees, saying that “Self-care is a deliberate choice to gift yourself with people, places, things, events, and opportunities that recharge your personal battery and promote whole health — body, mind, and spirit.” 

Supportive community is one aspect of self-care that encompasses all of these areas.  Because we’ve moved so many times as a family, I’ve learned that supportive community is super important to me.  In fact, community is one of my top three core values, and I’m extremely grateful for the support that surrounds us.  When things are going well and my community is in place, I don’t give it a lot of thought.  But when community is absent, or when I’m facing major challenges, I don’t take my community for granted at all, and I recognize how much I value these relationships. 

“When the well’s dry, we know the worth of water.” ~ Benjamin Franklin

When did self-care become synonymous with self-indulgence?  When I ask people their favorite self-care practice, their response often centers around whether or not they have the time or inclination for a spa day. Don’t get me wrong, I love a mani/ pedi or a massage occasionally, when I have time to squeeze in a treatment, but self-care entails so much more than spa treatments.

Self-care encompasses all the ways that you intentionally take care of your physical, mental, emotional and spiritual health.  Practicing self-care reduces stress and improves all relationships, including your relationship with your own self. 

Last week, I shared seven myths about marriage that my husband and I discovered during our 24 years together.  Like every marriage, ours has had some ups and downs, some good times and bad. This week, I’ll share some of the lessons we’ve learned through the years.  We were married 18 years before we started practicing some of these principles. Now, six years later, we can attest that it’s never too late to start improving your marriage.  The last six years have been the happiest and richest years of our marriage without a doubt, and we’ll be celebrating our 25th anniversary this summer! 

Somewhere around our 18th wedding anniversary I noticed that my husband and I had lost the spark that first brought us together. The busy-ness of our family life and demands of his career took priority even though our marriage screamed for our attention.  From the outside looking in, things may have looked pretty solid.  We belonged to a vibrant church, had a caring small group, and lots of friends in our life.  But we ignored the subtle but obvious signs that our marriage was no longer thriving.  We took each other for granted, and assumed that eventually life would slow down enough for us to (finally!) have time to focus on “us.” 

Of all emotions, disappointment has been the hardest one for me to identify in my life, time after time.  Disappointment sounds weak to me.  It feels messy, and confusing.  The mental and emotional gymnastics I go through in order to avoid naming and experiencing my disappointment is laughable.  Historically, when I’m disappointed, before I let it register, I immediately look for the silver lining, or reframe and rename my feelings.  Many times I hadn’t admitted to my own self how much I wanted something, so there’s guilt, as I wonder if I have a right to feel disappointed about something so abstract.

One of my New Year Resolutions for 2018 was to launch a blog.  Originally, I planned to  launch it midyear (June-ish) but I later decided that September made more sense to me.  September, and the start of a new school year, gets me as excited (maybe even more so) as January 1st to wipe the slate clean and start new things.  So, I re-adjusted my goal last March, and re-prioritized my other resolutions to fit.