One of the questions that was passed around the circle last night at youth group was "When do you feel least yourself?". It was interesting, of course, to hear the kids' responses. Some of them felt the furthest from their true selves when around adults or teachers, others felt completely at home in the same situations. The answers ranged from very specific to very vague...surfacey to deep...but as with all discussions, it was the diversions along the way that gave the topic real value.
I swear. There is something truly hilarious about watching teenagers navigate a topic...their body language, etc...how much it reminds me of what it was like to be in that same situation. But the really great part about it, the part that keeps me doing this every week, is the way these kids keep me on my toes. And not in the way that my boys do--because this has nothing to do with physical endurance or multi-tasking. It's about maintaining a sense of complete and total vulnerabilitiy...staying honest, having integrity in what I say or how I express myself. For lack of a better word, just being real.
It's interesting.
Why is it I never wanted to teach younger children...you know, the ones who love and adore you the first day they lay eyes on you? Why is it I felt (and still do) a natural and almost primal draw toward the ones who practically hold your feet to the fire from day one? If you've ever taught middle schoolers, you know "the look".
It's the one that makes you feel, in one instant, completely vulnerable, stripped bare...and seriously uncool. You know, with every word that comes out of your mouth, whether they're buying your story or not.
It's the same way with teenagers, and I think it's what's kept me in the game for so long...this youth group thing. Watching these kids grow and change, get to know themselves, strengthen their relationships, etc...it's all fulfilling, and accounts for about 85% of why I do it.
But I'll be honest, there's that 15% that is really pretty selfish on my part. Because I continue to get something out of it. And last night was no exception, as we went around the room talking about the ways we stay connected and honest with ourselves. Listening to myself talking with these kids last night, I realized I was being up front and honest in a way that is sometimes even challenging with friends my age. I mean, talk about a context in which I stand a chance of being misunderstood...or worse, not understood at all. But for some reason, I make sense to them. And vice versa.
I'm rambling.
What I'm thinking about today, though, is the times at which I'm most myself. You know, whether I answered the question well enough last night. Ever the over-analyzer and reflective thinker...I spent much of my walk outside with the boys this morning thinking about it. Well, in between the "Yay, you're doing so awesome on your bike!" and "Out of the street! Now, Jonathan, out of the STREET!" comments.
And the way I figure it, I don't think I'm ever very far away from my truest self. There are just times where I'm more proud of who that is, I guess.
1. being with my boys, easy.
2. being with Brian, definitely easy.
3. with friends, almost always, pretty simple.
4. exercising, in classes or not, easy.
5. yoga, perhaps the simplest of all.
6. in front of a crowd, freaked out sometimes, but oddly enough very comfortable.
7. the list could go on...but is already a bit boring, I'm afraid.
It's just that there are things that are changing in my life that I'm finding more difficult to navigate. And it's weird. Because it's not about whether or not I feel comfortable in any given situation, it's more the matter of how to maintain that sense of integrity. How to stay myself.
With kids, middle schoolers or high schoolers, there is ironically much to be gained by being vulnerable...by letting them see that 6th grade picture of you...but admitting your weaknesses. The more you let them have of you, the more they trust and honor who you are.
Why is it so hard for adults?
And I'm not suggesting that it's easy for me. If anything, I'm just confused as to why it gets so much harder the older we get. Or maybe it's because kids are in the picture. It's simple enough for me to know how I feel and share it with others...but the minute I have to weigh those opinions against how they may or may not affect my kids, it gets murky. For instance, I can roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of the soccer-mom-phenomenon...but oh my gosh, holy crap, I'm suddenly one of them. Don't think for a second I won't have my video camera and cheesey grin ready for Jonathan's gymnastics show (p.s. have I mentioned this?--total PLG-fest...cannot wait).
But sometimes it's not quite as simple. There are times, I'm finding, when I'm not sure if my intentions are right on target. When I sign up for one more class for my kids..when I sacrifice time alone with Brian for time with 20 plus people at a bar...or when I check my reflection in the mirror before picking Benjamin up from preschool. Sometimes I just feel totally lost.
And it might seem ridiculous to some, or may even make zero sense.
But what I'm realizing is that parenthood is not the only "minefield" of life. Being yourself is most of all. I want every day to be able to "step to the front of the mat" (yup, yoga) and know that it will all make sense. That I'll be able to say yes to things that are good and healthy for me and my family, or no to things that are frivolous and of no value. But for crying out loud, sometimes these things are hard to decipher. The classes to sign up for, preschool teachers, which toys are going to better meet their needs (scooter or big wheel?) for the summer, or even which shows I'm going to allow them to watch...seemingly mindless decisions, but they matter. And then there are the bigger ones...which things to keep in the budget and which ones to cut, which vacations are justifiable, or even friendships. When am I closest to myself and the things that matter to me in each instance?
I recently took a trip by myself, for four days, to Portland, Maine to visit my oldest friend. It was a trip that I planned late last year, when she had her first baby, and the notion made perfect sense. And then, as the trip drew near, I started to feel less sure. My boys were, of course, suddenly behaving really well and bonding with me in new and deeper ways than before...things with Brian were great, but he'd been traveling so much and I was missing our "rhythm"...and I guess, overall, I just wasn't convinced that I had any right to be going. Mom guilt, whatever it was, I was panicked. And I ended up developing a serious case of anxiety over even FLYING out there. For the entire week leading up to the trip, my emotinal state was shaky, at best. And looking back, I'm not only embarrassed at myself for freaking out so badly...but disappointed in my ability to know what's best for me.
Because the minute I landed in Portland, it was obvious to me that it was the best decision I'd made in a long time. And off and on during my time there, which was full of wonderful, indescribable feelings of contentment...I felt this well of emotion stirring inside of me. It was a good thing, kind of like therapy...and on my last afternoon there, when I stepped out onto the rocky beach and took in the view of the Atlantic, I burst into tears.
Gratefully, I was in the company of someone who not only lets me be who I am without any explanation...but also someone who happens to feel the perplexities of life in the same way I do. I felt, and still do, that we'd grown closer in those four days than I ever imagined possible. All she did at that moment was link her arm in mine and just say "yeah, the ocean can do that"...and it was enough said.
So.
My point? I'm not sure where I started with this. Lord knows things don't always come out the way you intend when you're getting up five thousand times to deal with dirty bottoms, stubborn Lego container lids, and crayons about to be used on the wall.
I guess I'm several things right now: grateful for perspective, sometimes unsure of direction, but always certain of self.
And I suppose that's enough for now.
Now...is there someone I pay for this session?
