Thanksgiving

Last year, I wrote down one good thing that happened every day.  At the end of the year, I had hundreds of reminders of how blessed I am.

This year, I kept that up through March.  

Inconsistency, thy name is Amy.

Like most people, I get anxious about stupid stuff sometimes.  About two months ago, I decided that every time I got worried, I would stop everything and start saying, "thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Jesus, thank you" and intentionally counting my blessings.

Wake up in the middle of the night filled with quiet dread?  Thank you thank you thank you.

Something happened at work?  Thank you thank you thank you.

An unexpected expense?  Thank you thank you thank you.

My car had problems that took a half day to find someone to fix it... Stopped and said, thank you Jesus, that I have a car that really doesn't break down often, and it is paid for and comfortable and presentable. Thank you.

Delayed flights are an enormous part of my life... Thank you, God, that I live in an age of miracles and can cross the entire continent in hours.

Having a day where I do not want to go to work: thank you, God, that I have a job I love 99% of the time.

Sad or lonely:  God, thank you for this life that is so much bigger than I ever imagined, and please forgive me for not loving it enough sometimes.

Everything I have, everyone I know, every action I am able to take, is pure gift, unearned.  Thank you thank you thank you, Jesus.

Breakfast at DFW

I've finally been on an airplane frequently enough that I have "status" which occasionally grants me a free upgrade on a flight.

This unfortunately does not free me from any of the other aggravations of modern travel.

Yes, yes, flight is a miracle, I appreciate the fact in a few hours I can be anywhere in the world, whatever.  I am one of those rare people who does not blame the airlines for poor weather.

But it would be nice for this gypsy to be able to contract for a seat on an airplane that is equipped to take to the air.  The last several flights I have been on -rather, SUPPOSED to be on- were either cancelled or greatly delayed. This caused me to miss the last flight back to my home on more than one occasion.

Today, I was smart. I intentionally took the longer layovers to prevent just this thing.

However, the airport was one ahead of me.

This time, the Skylink at DFW was on the blink. Last time, it decided it was tired and simply did not move for about 20 minutes or so.  Today, the Skylink was moving just fine... It just didn't stop.  After watching 8 trains whip by without stopping, listening to an airport employee explaining the problem to someone on a speaker, and deciding I like to walk, anyway, I asked how to get to Terminal E from B by walking.  Turns out that is impossible, as it is a detached terminal.  So I could stick it out with the increasingly irritable crowd, or leave the terminal, take a bus, and go back through security.

That seemed rather more pleasant.

AND IT TOTALLY WAS!!

I made friends on the bus (since it was a half hour ride!) and we talked about all the places we traveled.  One woman is an avid scuba diver and she shared stories of the Great Coral Reef.  One man has been on every continent.  I decided to pretend I've  never been on a plane before.  Everyone was really nice and had lots of advice. There was an airport information worker just checking in. He wore a huge cowboy hat and had lots of fun facts about DFW... did you know that Manhattan Island would fit inside DFW?  Or that there are two 18-hole golf courses on one side of the property?

We chatted and had fun and the bus driver even chimed in.  He is from Houston originally, but likes Dallas better -moved here for a girl who eventually became his wife.

As I stepped off at my stop, the information worker sent me the wrong direction, but that's okay. He has only been doing the job for two weeks.

And I have a long layover, and I could use the walk.

Slow Food

Tubac is the kind of town that if I were the kind of person who owned second homes (rather than terrified at the thought of owning even one) I would buy a sweet little casita here and work on my homemade jewelry skills.

There is a great restaurant here called Shelby's.

About five minutes after entering the restaurant, my phone died.  I had not brought a book with me.  I didn't even have a file from work to thumb through awkwardly as I avoided the gazes of other diners.

I panicked, trying to reason with myself that being alone with my thoughts and the food would be good for me.  I spend every lunch hour hunched over a keyboard, shoving nutrients into my mouth, barely noticing what is occurring. Many dinners are spent shuffling through email or hopping around Facebook.  Every breakfast is carried throughout my house as I eat while rushing to get out of the house.

I couldn't leave. I'd already ordered.

So, having decided this could be a Growth Experience, I observed the artwork, the décor, the view.  I noticed the way the perky server said, "PuttanESca" when describing the daily special.  I noted the various colors of napkins and the accents sported by the other diners.

By nature I am a rapid eater, and since I spend a lot of time at business meals where I am basically the entertainment, I have honed this skill to an art form.  I can talk endlessly while mindlessly consuming whatever is placed in front of me. It's a talent.

When my food arrived, I forced myself to chew slowly, putting the fork down between every bite, reminding myself I'm not "on." I'm dining alone and do not have to entertain anyone.

Somewhere between poking myself to put that fork down until you swallow and deciding if I'd rather have a glass of wine or a piece of cake, I realized I was completely relaxed.  I smiled benevolently at the server who seemed obsessed with my water glass.  Since I was not hunched over my phone, I saw a local couple smile at me as they walked by, and they stopped to chat for a bit.  I was present for the entire experience.  I could even tell you exactly what I ate.

I could even tell when I was done eating, even though there was food left on the plate.

Mindful eating is something I worked on for a while, but haven't revisited in a long time.  I think it may be time for that again.

Letter to the Upstart Blogger

hi, Tyler!

My dad forwarded a column you wrote on the Catholic Exchange about the Treasure of Singlehood. He meant well.

You write beautifully, BTW,  and I "get" what you were trying to say, except, I have to say this:  You don't get it.  The fact you said you didn't get married until the (presumably ripe old age) of 28 set the tone for this article that struck me as contrived and slightly condescending.

I'm 44, never-married-no-children.  Many of my friends are in the same boat -emotionally and physically healthy, have interesting lives, wanting to find the right person to marry, and it just never happening. 

"The treasure of singleness is that it reminds all of us that our hearts are restless until they rest in God."

Honestly, that line made me want to reach across the world wide web and shake you.

I have moments when being single is pretty okay.  I do not ask for it. I do not accept it as a permanent state of being. But I have accepted this as my present truth.

Can you understand the life of a person who has to make every single decision by herself?  Do I buy a house, or a new mattress, or get involved with this project, or take that job, or contribute to that fund, or track down people to hang out with or...? 

Can you understand the sheer loneliness that accompanies the empty house, with no change in sight, accompanied by attending most events alone, including Mass?

Can you understand how it feels when your dearest friends complain about the smallest infractions of their spouses, children, in-laws... when you would sell a kidney to gain all of that?

Can you understand when few parishes have an active adult singles ministry that most of those are geared to 20-somethings, and when you want to start one yourself for the middle-aged crowd, there is rarely parish support for that?

Can you understand that almost ALL parish activities center around families, marriages and children?
Can you understand that attending a party as a single adult woman means that you are automatically assumed to be of suspect character if you don't know most of the people already?  Do a social experiment sometime.  Ask a female friend to pose as a single person, and record people's reactions as she behaves as her normal friendly self.  I believe you will find the results interesting.

Can you understand living a life where absolutely no one has you as any kind of priority in their lives?  It isn't about the love -I am BLESSED with wonderful friends and family... but I am "first place" to no-one, or second, even, except Christ.

So, please forgive me for this rant, but I could not keep quiet.

The treasure of singleness is... different for everyone.  For some of my friends, it has given them close relationships with their aging parents, as the single kid is the logical one to take on that task.  For some of us, it is being a place of safety for our nieces and nephews.  For some of us, it is being given the TIME to see the world and think the big thoughts and not be exhausted by the daily demands of spouse and children.

But I do not know any person who would not give any of that up in a heartbeat in exchange for a good marriage.

You had seven years of singlehood as an adult -actually, fewer than that, assuming you were dating and engaged for a while before you got married.  Try a 23-year hat on for size, and trust me, your perspective changes.


SO, HOW DO WE DO IT?

After I wrote the letter and hit SEND, I pondered this for a bit, because being a single mature adult sucks eggs for the most part.

It's a God thing.

I gave my life to Christ and told Him He could do whatever He wanted with it, and apparently, this is it.  I have learned to reach beyond myself to make connections, to take advantage of events and opportunities to be with people, and there for people.  I am able to be with lonely people and together our loneliness is eased. 

I have been able to make friends with people across the globe because my time and energy are not limited to the people who live in my house.

I have been able to forge beautiful relationships with my brothers' children because I am not raising any of my own.  I share the joy and pain of that with many married couples, as well.

I have been a place of refuge for friends and family needing a safe place to cry and rage and wonder, and dream big dreams, and rest and hope and pray.

I have been a testament to the healing of Christ, and at the same time, the frailty of the human condition.

I have learned to forgive, to let go, to accept, to hope.

I have been given a life much, much bigger than I ever imagined for myself.

So, I know that God is not yet done with me, and there are yet surprises and moments of jaw-dropping wonder awaiting me.  Until He sees fit to send someone to hold my hand during all of that, I'm walking this path alone.

Except, I think that the Treasure of Singleness REALLY is knowing, deep down in  a place that is reserved for True Things, I am never actually alone.