Thoughts: on those moments of inadequacy

I remember the spelling bee in 5th grade. It was so nerve-wracking.

The students all stood up round after round, giving me a nerdy adrenaline rush every time it was my turn. Suddenly only three of us were left, and I walked up to the microphone that was just as tall as me.

And then I misspelled "inadequate."

Quite the ironic blow, right? But I have to smile a little every time I remember that moment -- and I'm surprised by how often that is.

It comes up often in my mind because the topic does first. Inadequacy. Do you know how often girls talk about that, directly or not? It's heavy on our minds, and hearts too, because girls are like that. We all know it. We want to do our best, always, at everything. And when we just aren't understanding why that's not happening all the time, our feelings of inadequacy spill into our words.

"I didn't get enough done today."
"This doesn't taste very good. At all, actually."
"This entertainment center shouldn't have taken 34 man hours to finish."
"I feel inadequate."

That last one comes out on those terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad days, or when we give up trying to have our minds read by the other gender.

But you know what? I've realized that the times I feel inadequate are when I'm challenging myself. I feel inadequate when a project takes longer or costs more than I planned -- but that means it's a project I've never done before. I feel inadequate when dinner is ... meh... and the leftovers aren't even that, but that usually means I tried something new. I feel inadequate when I have to practice someone's piano accompaniment over and over and over. and over. But that means it's a song that's pushing me.

So I guess I let those moments of inadequacy hide what I'm becoming. They find a way to steal perspective, then I forget that I'm doing what I should be doing. I'm trying to better myself, to ditch comfort zones, to learn. Little failures are not a reflection of who we are. Big failures are not a reflection of who we are. They're just a time to be patient with yourself.

I think even the most patient person has some trouble with that one.

But be patient, because "He will turn your supposed inadequacies into recognized strengths."

Supposed inadequacies. That's all they really are.

Outside the Frame

My friend Elyse recently started an online writing club.

You can check out that post for all the details,

which I love her for sharing.

I'm excited about it. I love reading other people's words,

and sharing mine, too.

Her first prompt: "Find a picture: Write what's happening outside of the frame."

Sundays in the park. We can all relate to that. 

Last Sunday I went exploring with my new husband in our new city, to spend our afternoon in no way in particular. We walked around with our minds on different things, typical. He named all the different trees in the park and planned his someday garden, and I watched people. I like learning what his trees are called, even if I'm terrible with names.

Squirrels were everywhere. They were not quite as afraid of me as I would have preferred. We loved it, though, and Michael threw acorns as fast as he could find them. It was carefree and relaxing, all in all, but outside that moment there was so much to think about.

We were just married, and just moved, and just trying to get a hang of this growing up business. But the pieces you hear about, those aren't the hard parts. Paying bills together, figuring out insurance, looking for a job, making long term plans...that's the growing up you picture. That's what you wonder if you're ready for.

Then it hits, and you just do those things. They need to be done, so you do them. The growing up that's hard is entirely different. What's hard is seeing what "grown ups" deal with. Seeing my friends who lose babies, or can't have babies. The friends who lose trust in the someone they always thought they'd have. The friends who don't want to believe in anything anymore, they're just so tired. Suddenly people all around you are dealing with things you just never really imagined.

At least I didn't.

And then comes the selfish part. I look at the incredibly hard things I see people deal with - from people I barely know to family I love, and I get afraid. If Michael and I keep on with this growing up we're doing, then what's in store? What will happen? There's just more heartbreak in the world than I ever knew up to this point, and it's unnerving. I just never knew.

But, there's the flip side. Although I suddenly see the things these friends are dealing with, I also get a glimpse into the ways they meet what has come. And let me tell you, I have impressive friends. They just have this strength, this way of holding on to what they believe and moving forward.

That's what you do, move forward. Even if you're afraid of what the future holds (and I know it will always hold more good than bad). Even if you're someone that has already faced more than you ever thought you would. Those are the people I look to and learn from, all the time. In fact, I think that's just about everyone, if you hear enough of their story. That's what brings me back to perspective, and takes away my slight desire to freeze life on today. Everyone is dealing with more than we know, which means we're all more capable than we ever realized. Life will be hard, but people are strong.

And no matter what life has in store, there will always be Sundays in the park. We'll always have those. If you're lucky, you'll even see the fluffiest of all Pomeranians being pushed in a stroller. We did.

Up and moved.

Coming to you live from Indiana. Woohoo!

After a road trip to Vegas 

(my parents are the best. They have been the victims of just so many road trips to the Vegas airport. I love them!)....

some quick bag rearranging 

(50-pound rule always gets me)...

A 3.5 hour flight in which I started that Harry Potter series again

(I bring in constants to get me through change, don't judge)...

I landed HERE. Indianapolis, Indiana. Home of the...dental school.

It's great! Hot, yes. But spread out and roomy and I feel like we live in the country.

That may be because I'm driving around a pickup for the first time in my life,

and I feel like only country music can be played in it.

Or Radio Disney.

Michael braved the floor for a couple weeks until our mattress came in the mail.

(Yeah, we ordered a mattress online. That's probably weird? But whatevs.)

Add that to the hand-me-down kitchen table from kind moving neighbors,

and we have furniture to our name!

We're thinking of adding couches to the picture once Craigslist cooperates.

Michael is busy at school every day, and I'm...trying to be busy every day too.

We've already done some curtain-hanging and laundry-shelf building, 

so we're feeling good about that.

And I've now officially entered full job-search mode,

with about 40+ applications out there and sparks of hope every time I see an email come in.

And usually it's from Groupon. Dang it.

And do you want to know a true confession? Like, a hurts-my-pride-to-admit-it confession?

I ran out of gas for the first time in my life.

And this comes at a time when I probably have nothing else to do in life BUT watch the gas gauge. 

Dang it again. That's what being un-busy does to you, people. 

When you go from a crazy hectic, full schedule that you love...

to a new place where you don't really HAVE a place yet,

it messes with your mind.

And you run out of gas.

But it's ok. I know that things will come together soon, 

and I'll feel just as settled here as anywhere else I've loved.

When I filed for my change of address, the Post Office sent me this happy little note.

Then I remembered that everything is great.

Halfway There

Michael made it.

He road-tripped to Indiana this week in his grandpa's '89 Chevy S-10, sans air conditioning.

And he made it. This move is happening!

After one last conference at work next week, I'll head out to Indianapolis.

But I'll take a plane. I think that means I totally cheated.

Change always works itself into a perfectly situated life, right?

But that's ok. All I need for a big change is faith. 

And Oreos.

p.s. When I was little (ok, medium) I thought Utah was the midwest. I think I just thought California had dibs on being "the West"? So I'm glad I'm moving to the real midwest now. I was strangely disappointed when I realized my faulty logic. 

And there's something about the midwest sun, right?

So long, July.

Maddie meets August.

I wish I could tell you I was on the right.

Pretty sure I heard life plans are overrated, anyways.

Pause.

I love summer adventures. 

D.C. has definitely been just that.

But this particular adventure has been a little tainted by my lack of post-summer plans.

When I packed up my all too familiar life in Provo, 

I didn't really know why I was leaving.

I left this...

and found this...

I guess the loss is written on the wall - confidence.

But you know, as the end of the summer gets closer,

I'm realizing that the only worry going on here is too much freedom.

And there are a lot of people in this world I wouldn't share that complaint with.

***

So in three weeks, my life isn't on a schedule of four-month homes anymore.

No classes, no campus, no clear-cut days.

It sounds like a potential rough patch.

But, it doesn't have to be.

You don't always have to read the writing on the wall.

Sometimes you can just make your own.

Going with the Flow

I'm heading back up to school next week! It's definitely giving me some mixed feelings (what doesn't?), and causing some definite reflection on the year so far. I'm tired, broke, and completely happy. This year widened my concept of the word home and put new places permanently in my heart. And I can't think of any of them without remembering the beautiful rivers I spent so much time around.

The first time I saw the River Thames I had to fight an urge to plug my nose. Then I stopped fighting, and did. It's a little bit nasty, there's no denying it. I stood on the bridge under the shadow of Big Ben, surrounded by tourists and excitement, and looked down at the murky flowing water. An abandoned Christmas tree floated under me. I tried to think of a word for the color of that river the whole time I was there, but I decided it's an endearing shade of whatever. Nothing makes me miss London more than when I remember how beautiful it looks during a late night walk, with Big Ben, Parliament, and the Eye all reflecting in it. I hope I see it again someday!I had a short, but sweet, relationship with the River Seine. Paris was exhausting and wonderful, and every night we crossed one of the 37 bridges over this river and sat under the Eiffel Tower with a crepe. I loved watching the groups that were there for the first time each night, and listening to their screams of delight when they caught their first glimpse of the tower. It was especially fun if I didn't even know what language they were speaking because I still knew exactly what they must be saying. My favorite kind of excitement is experiencing something new, and this river will always remind me of that feeling.

The Tiber River in Rome is a definite comfort, it was about the only thing I could count on recognizing on a map of the city :) Rivers are always more dependable than roads -- they can't suddenly change on you, they keep the same name the whole time, and you don't have to worry about looking both ways when you cross.


This was a river I've been waiting to see my whole life. The Potomac River was so much fun to see; maybe it was because I'm obsessed with history, or maybe it was just fun to finally see something beautiful with my parents and my sister :) We'll go with both. Once we all stopped arguing about how to say the name of it the right way it was a lot more fun to admire. Washington D.C. had the friendliest people, I just loved it there.

Oh Boston. The Charles River is always going to have a special place in my heart. I crossed it every Sunday to get to church, every day to go nanny...sat beside it on the 4th of July and watched reflected fireworks...even accidentally saw way too many skinny-dipping college boys in it once. Gross. There are always sailboats, kayaks, canoes, just so much going on up and down this river. It may be a little toxic and nasty (didn't stop Ali from swimming in it last week, still waiting to see if she has any side effects from that experience), but I just love this river. I'm pretty sure I'll see Charles again, and what a wonderful day that will be!

And finally...the Provo River. Bless its heart. It really is good to be back in Utah, even if I can't breathe when I run or figure out why the roads are a million times wider than I remember. But it's good to be home! Utah has my family, mountains, and stars...man I missed those things! So now it's back to BYU :) Third time's a charm, right?