The 40th Year

 I had every intention of writing something up for my birthday-- I had several mental notes of what I wanted to put down and a smattering of post it notes that highlighted what my 39th year of life had become. Introspection has been at an all time high and what I set out to write down, is not what is flowing through the keys today. Because, yes, 2020 has been hard, and in many cases unprecedented... my personal story included. I could easily write out all the ways it hasn't been an ideal year, but if anything, I've realized there are too many people readily available to let me know just how bad it is or could be. The 40th birthday came and went, and yet I wasn't quite in the headspace I wanted to be to commemorate the fact I have made it to this fantastic milestone of life.

2020 has brought to my attention the need to seek the quiet and to slow everything down. I wrote a blog post back in June over on my other page, History and the Internet, highlighting the dangers of split second judgments based on headlines and misinformation. Exceptional damage has been done to humanity in the last ten months and the abuse of integrity is rampant. Quiet is good. Taking the time to seek resources for claims being made actually takes very little time. I've felt an enormous sense of responsibility in the realm of social media to "slow my roll" because it's all just too much. It's too loud. It's too ugly. There is a vast difference in keeping up with the times and being knowledgable on the issues and throwing out every meme or derogatory opinion of the "other side". Jane Austen used the phrase in Mansfield Park "I was quiet, but I was not blind." 2020 has been about self preservation. I see it, I hear it, I consider it, but I'm not joining in.

It's been a struggle of conscience in how to "not join in". I have my opinions, absolutely, but the struggle is in how to voice them. I've long studied history enough to know that silence is rarely a good thing. I've got Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Eli Wiesel whispering in my mind most days, but the fact is, no one really wants to know... especially in social media. I will converse with anyone willing to sit across from me on my porch or at a table who truly wants to talk about it all, and I have. It's a grieving point for me to consider the number of people I have known for years, sometimes decades, that aren't interested in talking and listening... that are gung-ho in pointing out how my thoughts are wrong. This has never been positive discourse. Conversations can be had between two issues at odds, but listening is key. 2020 people only say what they want to say, hear only what they want to hear, and read only what they want to read... as long as it backs up their opinion.

Grief has been heavy on the 39th year of my soul, and the 40th birthday did not bring an end to it, just as waiting for 2021 to get here as if everything will be made "right" on the First of January. It's incredibly difficult to reconcile the dogma of hatred (pretty much every major headline since May) with people I have known to be exceptionally Godly, devout people... the kind of people that hold you close and love so generously. It's hard to want a decent world for my kids when what I see in people does not match what they preach. The dividing lines are intensely drawn, opinions fly faster than understanding and kindness. Snap judgments of the lowest kind are made over a person's decisions (are they fear induced or based in caution?), people deciding someone's ideas make them a "sheeple" simply because they aren't on the same page, and the continued invalidation of how one chooses to live in these times in comparison to another's.  I'm 40. I know who I am. I know why and how. Because I've had forty years figure those things out. But those younger? Those needing a solid foundation? If I were much younger and trying to figure out why living a godly life is worth it, if I tried to see the Biblical examples of loving kindness, it would be a rocky path. I've thought many times in the last eight months that there is a distinct difference in leading a Christian life and religion. I don't want what most evangelicals are selling these days. I don't want that religion. I never quite understood, and probably still don't, the "love" generation... "All you need is love..." I'm hardly an over emotional person, but people need some Jesus, some love, and some kindness. Because once 2021 (or even 2022) rolls around and we find ourselves collectively doing better (Lord willing and the creek don't rise), we will still need relationships. Relationship damage is at an all time high. At what point do we take a step back, slow our roll, and consider the long term ramifications of "being right"?

That being said (and unashamedly the subject most often in my mind), the 39th year was a series of moments spent mulling over the idea of what is "normal". Most people are comforted deeply with what "normal" is. Pretty sure that is why, as people age, anything set up against the idea of what is normal, is threatening. We've been threatened in deep ways this 2020. The angst against the "new normal" has proliferated in dozens of ways; a deep set discontentment, because for the first time, everything is vastly different. Reorganizing a life is difficult. Raising four kids in a pandemic world is hard. Raising teens and almost teens in this environment is often times traumatic. Finding meaning and purpose in a world that has slowed down so drastically has to be intentional. I like giving a new year an ideal. Nearly two years ago, I decided that 2019 needed to be intentional. The struggle was real, but rewarding. 2020 rolled around and on January 1st,  I knew that intentional needed another year. January 2nd, Paxton got strep. January 7th, I became ill (the kind of sick you feel coming on that has your mind forcefully telling you that THIS IS GOING TO BE BAD). January 12th I was hospitalized, and released seven days later. Keith, Evelynn, and McKenna were all sick while I was in the hospital, and two days after I got home, Evelynn went into the hospital for eight days. Caelan got sick February 1st. I wrote a post in July (Breathe) about that nightmare and being intentional. I chuckle now at my need for another year of being intentional. It's up there with praying to God for patience. 

An intentional "new normal" is about finding meaning in new ways. I know many people hate the connotations of "new normal" and all it entails, but we have to be less rigid in our expectations and what we must have to live a happy life. We can forego many things if our attitude is set to do so. If we are not open to change, this has and will continue to be a nightmare. I have found an obsession with plants. I have found an intense love of loose leaf tea in the afternoon. I have found a renewed love of words and the time to read things I previously disallowed myself for lack of time (if you're bookish, you know there's a difference between intentional reading and reading the back of the cereal box). I have found that small moments of quiet soothe me in ways social media screams at me to not be. Speaking of... social media is a wild place these days. I could give it up, but I'm in the very real position of not being close to family or family of the heart, and in a time of little travel, unless it's snail mail, it's what I've got. My use of Instagram and Facebook has never been about my political platform but about sharing life. I'm well aware of most peoples' opinions these days, but here's a picture of my newest plant... here's a picture of my kids (because goodness knows they haven't been seen in eight months)... here's my collection of words and quotes from people who lived in equally challenging times and found that kindness and listening smooth over the madness... here are the changes I've made around the house that offer me a slice of peace... here's the flora and fauna of stepping away from the angst to see that while the world rages, God made this fascinating set of mushrooms in my front yard... here are memes about history... here are history videos and podcasts... here's music... here are memes about 2020. My world is much more magical and lovely and full. That doesn't mean I'm not fully aware of the madness, I'm just intentional with how much it affects me. If you live in the negative and hate, you will give off the negative and hate. And the opposite, I have found, is quite true. 

I recently ran across a Danish word that settled deeply within my soul. It's the word hygge: 

Hygge is a whole thing, for some a life aesthetic, that once I read about its attributes made me think first of a Hobbit, and then wildly of myself. Typical habits of hygge are: casual decor, warm textures, candles, cozy blankets, tea and coffee, comfort foods, sharing meals with people, casual gatherings, no politics, no drama, cards and board games, shelter and safety, living in harmony, valuing relationships, journaling and writing, reading, outdoors and indoors, gratitude/thankfulness, meditation and prayer, savoring the moment, appreciating the silence, being present in the moment... things I already do, things I could be much better at doing, and so very entrenched in what I know is actively living like Jesus. This 40th year doesn't appear to be changing much, but as long as I'm all right in my soul, that's all that matters.