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Loving My Neighbor – Take 2

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Since spouting my mouth off about loving my neighbor in my last post, I was faced with putting my money where my mouth is.

Two days after my post, I ran into a person who has hurt someone I love deeply. My reaction to being forced to engage with this person has been weighing on me and got me pondering the true definition of love.

Dictionary.com’s definition of love is as follows:

love [luhv]

https://www.dictionary.com/browse/love?s=t

noun

  • A profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
  • A feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.
  • Sexual passion or desire.

verb (used with object), loved, loving.

  • To have love or affection for.
  • To have a profoundly tender, passionate affection for (another person)

verb (used without object), loved, lov·ing.

  • To have love or affection for another person; be in love.

Well, these definitions definitely don’t describe how I feel about this person; and oftentimes, not even the people I’m closest to.

These definitions are superficial AND fleeting. They barely stand up against hurt feelings let alone the real “hard” stuff like deep betrayal, abuse, and pain.

You don’t have to be Christian to see that the definition of love described in 1 Corinthians is the way we all want to be loved.

I Corinthians 13:4-7

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1%20Corinthians+13&version=NLT

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous, boastful, proud, or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful and endures through every circumstance.

Unlike our common understanding of love as described in Dictionary.com, love is all verb. It’s pure action. If you read the context of these verses, there’s no conditions around it. It doesn’t say “love if you have a deep regard for the other person,” or “…if the person is good to you,” or “…as long as they never hurt you,” or “…if they are a good person.”

Love is hard, it means swallowing your pride, letting go of your hurt and need to lash out, and at times giving up your own desires for a greater good you might not ever understand.

It’s easy to talk about loving your neighbor, but it’s a lot harder to do it. I fail at it ALL THE TIME and this time I failed miserably!

So now what?

I know I’ll get the opportunity to “love” this person again. I pray that next time I’ll be given the strength greater than my own to do it.

Dear Neighbor

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It has once again been way too long since I’ve written. Within that time the world has become a different place. Fear and hate are rampant, the best of intentions are misconstrued, and we gorge ourselves on the worst humanity can do to each other in the pit of our social media arena.

Have you noticed that almost everything is permissible in our neighborhood today? But is it truly beneficial? Who is it benefiting? You, me…?

I’m not writing to share my views on politics, my opinions on wearing masks in public, or ask why black lives matter is even a question anymore.

I don’t care that your political views, skin color, faith, and sexuality are completely different than mine. I don’t care if you wear a mask in public or not.

It doesn’t matter how I feel about the things you’ve done, the choices you make, if you’ve hurt me, or downright hate me. It’s not my job to change you. You are my Neighbor. It is my responsibility to love you just the way you are.

A wise friend and teacher once told me “We are what we fill ourselves up with. Garbage in, garbage out.”

I have done more than my share of filling the neighborhood with garbage. I have been selfish, judgmental, arrogant, and careless. You may say that my offenses are small (a hurtful comment here, a selfish decision there), but that doesn’t mean they don’t have far-reaching consequences.

My dearest Friend reminded me that “The two most important commandments are to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and strength; and to love your neighbor as yourself.”

So I also need to say I’m sorry Neighbor. I haven’t loved you. It’s time I put on my big girl panties and start.

Lemonade in the Winter

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Another 6-10” of snow is currently weaving yet one more intricate blanket over central Wisconsin. Its pristine beauty is turning our world into a winter wonderland but it’s heaviness is suffocating. I read an article recently about embracing the winter months as a time to create a comfortable cocoon and hibernate, but we’re not bugs and bears for Pete’s sake. We’re people!

IMG_4437

Poor Mike is snow blowing for the second time this morning.

I feel stuck without anything really new to say. I’m quite frankly sick of myself and sick of social media…trying to paint the best picture, be positive, make myself look better than I really am, trying to get people to like me. Blah, blah, blah!

Honestly life still feels full of a crap-ton of lemons:

  • Work hasn’t picked up. No matter how many pep talks I give or receive, I doubt my decision to return to hair.
  • The second job I hoped for, was meant for someone else.
  • We still don’t have health insurance. (The affordable care act isn’t really affordable unless you don’t want to afford anything else.) Consequently, I worry about every ache, pain, and sniffle Mike gets.
  • I’m bored, lonely, and adrift.

Wait! … Here’s some Late Breaking News!

Literally, in the midst of this rant, my always encouraging, positive friend Barb has messaged me out of the blue asking when my next post was coming. Thank you, thank you Barb! Your message is just the refreshment I need in this exact moment. Thank you God for the gentle cuff across the head.

Here’s the reality. Despite focusing on the lemons (and the avalanche of snow-fall), I been drinking some pretty sweet lemonade. In the last several weeks:

  • I’ve seen new places
    • I recently visited two restaurants I’ve always wanted to try. Both have been in business for over 40 years. One was a hit and one was a miss, but I was so excited and glad to have experienced both.
  • I’ve made new friends
    • I spent five days in Arizona with my BFF and her parents. I didn’t know her parents well before this trip and now feel like I have two new friends.
    • Through the salon, I’ve connected with some of Mike’s friends and co-workers. I’m not just thankful for their business, but the opportunity to better get to know the wonderful people Mike works and hangs out with.
  • I’ve developed new hobbies
    • My at-home yoga practice is flourishing. I’ve completed Yoga with Adriene’s 30 day challenge, am working through her February calendar, and have been trying new vinyasas from the Yoga Journal.
    • I joined a corn-hole / bag toss league with Mike. It’s given us the opportunity to spend time together, a reason to get out of the house, and encourages this introvert to socialize with Mike and his friends.
  • I’ve completed some stuff 
    • Two books
    • A baby quilt top
    • A set of cloth napkins
  • I’ve started a new tradition
    • I’ve just sent out a stack of Valentines (the old-fashioned way) to my whole family. Going forward instead of bludgeoning everyone with a little more joy at Christmas, I’ll spread the love while the winter blues are at their peak.

So I’m canceling the pity party and apologize for wallowing. It’s crazy how easy it is to forget all the good when faced with a little bad. I have a warm house, plenty of food, a loving family, good friends, and a God who loves and has always cared for me.

If you’re drowning in lemons, I pray that there is peace and comfort waiting for you right around the corner. Remember God is good, he is faithful, and you are loved.

If life is currently treating you well, please share the goodness. We all need the reminder that snow melts, spring comes, and lemons can always be made into lemonade.

Happy Valentines Day!

 

Out With the Old, In With the New!

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I can’t believe it’s been a whole year already since I posted “Uncovering My Why!” Mom was right. The older you get, the faster time goes.

Oh my! So much has happened since that post and I’m currently in deep on this journey of diligently reshaping my life around this worthy goal.

I confess, reigning in my worry hasn’t gotten any better since my last post. Being a sole proprietor and renting a salon chair aren’t rocket science. But Man! Do patience and perseverance ever get any easier? My mean Old Adam  has been relentlessly whispering in my ear:

  • “You should be working harder to bring in new clients.”
  • “You were so not ready to set up shop on your own.”
  • “If you’d never have left hair in the first place, you’d have tons of clients, real experience, and a paycheck.”
  • “You’re never going to make any money at this.”
  • “If anything happens to Mike, you’re screwed!”

I know these things aren’t true, but the sly fox continually fills me with shame, guilt, and insecurity making my joy fleeting and contentment down right elusive.

Thank you God for my dear husband Mike. Mike officially stepped into his second half-century on New Year’s day and wisely reminded me that we officially have more days behind us than we do in front. “Do you really want to spend them worrying?” He asked. “Just make the most of what you have right now.”

Mike’s old hat at being self-employed. We’ve ridden his work’s waves of feast and famine for most of our married life. But here’s the thing, even when Mike’s not “working,” he’s busy. He always has remodeling projects, home improvements, golf, or any number of activities he’s tackled over the years. He spends his down time learning new things, honing new skills, and always striving to do these things to the best of his abilities.

My goal for 2019 is to follow his lead.

I’ve always wanted to:

  1. Become a daily at-home yoga practitioner so I can stay healthy and strong for as many days as God still has left for me.
  2. Sew more. I love fabric and creating beautiful and useful things. It doesn’t matter if I don’t need them, there are always others who do.

I also want to:

  • Go visiting more. I am blessed to be within driving distance to my whole family. I simply have to get in the car and go.
  • Stop at that little place, drive down that one road, or check out that one spot, I never have before.

I know the only one who can grow my business is me, but Old Adam’s lies aren’t productive or helpful.  Instead out with the old lies and in with the new growth. It’s time to get busy growing in new ways, making the most of open opportunities, and being open to new possibilities.

What will you do with 2019? Whatever it is, I pray it’s a blessed adventure.

Happy New Year!

 

It’s Official! Now What?

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Since my last post, I’ve been diligently getting back in the swing of hair design and pursuing all the details of setting up my own establishment: finding the right location, discussing leasing terms, applying for an establishment license and EIN, setting up my own bank account, and making inventory decisions.

Now it’s official…

…I’m legally the sole proprietor of my own licensed establishment (a.k.a. a salon chair). It may sound a little anticlimactic after creating a whole business plan around a cafe, but I have been a licensed cosmetologist for 17-years after all, I enjoy helping people, and I love making them feel good; so it just made sense. This path then should be much less intimidating right?

Not really.

Sure I know how to do hair, I’ve had a few business classes, and I’ve got experience managing schedules, budgets, and contracts, but these things don’t put butts in my chair and that’s where the rubber actually hits the road.

This road feels a little dicey.

I’m now open for business, but people aren’t beating down my door. Just like any business, I need paying guests so I can pay my rent and expenses and stay in business. So, how long will it take? Am I doing all the right things? What else do I need to do? Do I even have what it takes to actually make this work?

I need to reign in my worry.

Yes, the real work is just beginning, but I’ve gotten this far haven’t I? The hardest thing about facing new challenges is remembering all you’ve already accomplished and are capable of. If I focus on all I’ve done this year, maybe these next hurdles won’t seem as daunting. I can simply face them one at a time and simply enjoy the journey.

As this Thanksgiving comes to a close, I am truly thankful for where I am today. God is always faithful and has given me a supportive husband and family who are willing to support me in all my new adventures. I’m also thankful for a year of tough lessons which have equipped me to face the challenges ahead.

What are you thankful for?

Don’t forget all the things you’ve overcome–whether big or small–and remember, you can do more than you ever thought or imagined.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Feeling Full

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I confess that I haven’t felt much like writing lately. I wouldn’t call it writer’s block, but more like a lack of patience for sitting at the computer. Writing also means organizing my thoughts into something that makes sense and honestly that’s been way too much work for me lately.

I’m also bone tired. The fact that I’m at least 10 years older than the next oldest person at the salon doesn’t mean I’m exempt from nine-hour days that kick my butt or taking my turn working weekends. The thirty-odd hours I’m working each week feel a lot more like the 50+ I was putting in at my previous job.

You know what though? For the first time in my life I have this feeling that just might be contentment. At first, I thought it may be complacency, but I don’t feel apathetic or negative. I’m exhausted, but not weary. And, even though I don’t always get to all the things I want to each day, I feel satisfied with the things I have accomplished. What is this magic?

Here’s the thing….

  • I LOVE being back in the salon. I love the precision of a great haircut, the creativity of a beautifully applied color, and even a perfectly wrapped perm. I love the nose tickling mix of chemicals and fragrances, the unique characters that sit in my chair, and the happy chatter of a busy salon.
  • I’ve been sewing–giving myself over to the lures of dazzling displays of fabric in whimsical patterns and textures, the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine, and making things that are beautiful and useful out of my two hands.
  • I’ve been doing yoga consistently. Breathing and stretching life back in to my stiff middle-aged limbs and achy joints. Day-by-day I can feel my strength building and flexibility returning despite the inevitable age-related changes to my body.
  • I’ve been able to volunteer at church using my gifts and abilities to feel purposeful and helpful not simply fill a hole.
  • Finally, even with all this new busyness, I still have the energy and capacity to give myself to the people I love without guilt or grudge – WOW!

Don’t get me wrong, life is still far from perfect. It never will be and that’s OK. But life should be more than just enjoying the current harvest of good things. True contentment is “feeling full” because there is a realistic understanding of what you want versus what you need that informs what you could do versus what you should. It’s also dang fulfilling when you can actually combine what you like to do with what you’re actually good at–maximizing the gifts and abilities you’ve been given.

I pray that we all find the things that fill us up and the time and courage to pursue them.

God bless!

Featured Image: Carl Larsson – Das Haus in der Sonne ( The House In The Sun) / The Apple Harvest, 1903 Postcard, Vintage Art, Vintage, art, Vintage Print

Coming Full Circle

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I’m finally back to work. It took me eight weeks of soul searching, researching the realities of each of my dream businesses, and aligning them to my “Why” to bring me full circle–to the place I started my career.

I had been researching the possibility of opening a coffee shop in a growing area south of town. I found the perfect location, outlined the concept, drafted an initial business plan, and Mike and I met with the bank. But when push came to shove, I just couldn’t do it and  was disappointed in myself that I didn’t have the guts to take the risk.

I was also getting lonely. I missed the daily interactions with co-workers, this introvert’s excuse for engaging with people outside my family.

So on a whim I stopped at a salon and picked up an application.

You see, I officially started my career as a cosmetologist, but as a mother of a busy family, I quickly learned that being successful at it meant giving up nights and weekends with my family. So I took an 8 – 4:30 gig that provided the means for me to have my cake and eat it to, at least initially. (But if you’ve read my previous posts, you already know how that story ended.)

Over the years I’ve kept up my license, not because I ever intended–or even wanted–to do hair again, but one never knows when something like that may come in handy.  Now I believe it was one of the best decisions I ever made.

As I started talking to salon managers, I began to realize the reason I went in to the cosmetology profession in the first place. It was because…

  • I wanted to share beauty, solace, and simplicity with others as they face this hectic, stressful world.
  • I believe everyone deserves to feel beautiful, valued, and confident.
  • It was a perfect way to practice kindness, patience, and understanding to everyone I came in contact with.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding…!

I’ve had the means to pursue my “why” all along but was too distracted by the fantasy of greener grass to grasp it.

I’ve now been back in the salon for a week and it feels right. While I have more experience in an office, I no longer feel like a fraud. And, just like riding a bike, it all came back the minute I picked up the shears.

I’ve already had a few weird customers and a few perfect ones too, and all of them have shared a piece of themselves with me. Being a little older and wiser, I realize every appointment hasn’t been perfect, but I think (or at least hope) all my customers have left feeling a little bit better than when they came in.

Sometimes when you stop dreaming of the next best thing, you realize you had it all along.  So I’m going to focus on this now and make the most of it. Who knows where it will take me.

 

 

Yiayia’s Avgolemono

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Mike and I just returned from a long weekend in Ohio celebrating his cousin’s wedding. It was a great trip and a wonderful opportunity to reconnect with the Greek side of Grumpa’s family.

If you are an Xeno like me, it’s important to note that the caricatures of Greek pride depicted in My Big Fat Greek Wedding are not far from the truth. Mike is only part Greek, but his Grandfather Minos was a full-blooded, feisty little man who’s big Greek attitude more than made up for his small stature. Rose Antonucci, his sassy little Italian bride, was known to say “I thought I married a Greek god, but I actually married a “g-d” Greek!”

That Greek pride does rub off on you though, even if you are an Xeno. Rose became my kids’ Yiayia not their Nonna and she was the one who introduced me to my first taste of lamb and many of Papouli’s favorite Greek dishes.

A family favorite was Yiayia’s Greek Soup or Avgolemono. It was her cure for everything that ailed you and a big way this sassy little lady showed her love.

I’ve checked out dozens of recipes online and am always tasting would be Avgolemono soups wherever they appear on a menu. I consider NONE of them Greek! Because none of them come close to Yiayia’s.

Thankfully, I had a good teacher. I have a scribbled version of this recipe on the back of an old kindergarten worksheet from my daughter Olivia. (Just where a recipe like this should be written.) It only includes how to make the lemon-egg mixture and how to assemble the soup. The rest is all taste, feel, and love.

I take a few liberties with Yiayia’s recipe because I’m not as experienced as her yet at gauging the ingredient amounts even though I’ve been making this soup for 20+ years. For example, she never added bouillon and she cooked the rice within the soup which slightly thickens it. She never added flour which I find in many versions; adding flour makes the soup heavy and diminishes its lemony freshness which makes it perfect any season of the year.

So here’s Yiayia’s Greek soup. The best I’ve ever eaten. While neither Yiayia nor Papouli are with us anymore, I still think of them with every bowl.

Yiayia’s Greek Soup

  • 1 Whole, skin-on, bone-in chicken, cut into pieces
  • Olive oil
  • 4 Eggs – separated and set aside
  • 2-3 large lemons juiced, strained, and set aside (or 3-4 small)
  • Salt
  • Water
  • Chicken bouillon or soup base (optional)
  • Cheese cloth
  • 6-12 servings cooked rice (use what you think you’ll need and freeze the rest)
  • Freshly ground black pepper for serving

Prepare your soup base

  1. Generously salt chicken pieces and brown in olive oil in a heavy bottomed soup pot.
  2. Once nice and browned, cover chicken with water, salt generously, and simmer chicken until tender.
  3. Remove cooked chicken from broth and set it aside to cool slightly before removing skin and meat.
  4. Strain the broth through the cheese cloth to make sure it’s nice and clear.
  5. Return strained broth to the heat and taste. Add enough water and bouillon to accommodate the amount of soup you want and bring to a simmer.
  6. Remove 1-2 cups of prepared broth to cool slightly for your lemon/egg mixture
  7. Remove skin and bones from the chicken (be careful to remove all fatty bits and reserve the cleanest pieces of meat for your soup.) Return cleaned meat to the broth and discard the rest.
  8. Stir in your desired amount of rice.

Prepare the lemon-egg mixture

  1. Beat your egg whites until nice and fluffy.
  2. Gradually add yolks to the whites one at a time. Beat until your eggs begin to stiffen.
  3. While eggs are beating, slowly pour in lemon juice, and then slowly pour in broth. Your lemon/egg mixture will be a pale and frothy yellow.

Finish off the soup

  1. Gradually stir in a couple ladles of lemon/egg mixture into your soup, then slowly pour in the rest.
  2. Taste and adjust salt as necessary and heat to desired temperature.
  3. Serve with freshly ground black pepper, pita bread, and a simple salad dressed in lemon and oil.

Getting to Know Dad

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I’m the youngest (the accident, the oops! the tag-a-long) of seven kids. I have been told that when the pregnancy was announced, my Dad was not only less than thrilled, but actually angry, that Mom had gotten herself pregnant again. 

Stories like this may have been made in jest, but they formed the perceptions I had of my father growing up. I don’t remember him laughing only yelling, never encouraging only berating. I hated him, but I didn’t really know him.

Time and experience have definitely taught me a few things about people and perceptions.

My Dad was definitely high-strung and volatile, but he had seven–SEVEN–spoiled, rowdy kids to keep alive–yes alive. As a parent, I now know that anxiety and worry can manifest themselves in anger and frustration. I can only imagine how he agonized over the care and keeping of us all. Dad’s generation wasn’t known for being in touch with their sensitive sides, thus his anxiety became anger and his worry became frustration. I’m sure it didn’t help that I obviously didn’t appreciated him, never thanked him for anything he did, or even said I loved him.

He also had a strong-willed, demanding wife. My mom was loving and generous to a fault with her kids, her siblings, and others, but she was extremely critical of my Dad and often demeaned him in front of others and undermined his authority with us kids. As a wife, I can only imagine what that would do to my self-esteem and confidence over time.

Despite all this, he remained faithful to God and to his wife. He gave all he had to his children, and worked hard. He only craved a little peace and quiet which he never got. Many people would lament a life like his, but he sees it as a “good” life despite the imperfections.

This week marks Dad’s 88th birthday. He suffers from mild dementia–struggling with the present–but reminiscing vividly on the past. I love to hear stories from his youth and our time in the Big House. (No, not prison, but the huge house we lived in for many years that Dad affectionately calls the Big House.)

He’s a man of simple pleasures; his recliner, coffee and a healthy supply of Snickers, visits with his kids, and a good corny joke…

“Did you hear Willy Nelson died?”….”Yeah, he was playin on the road again!”

Or

“Did you hear? They outlawed round hay bales?” …. “Cows just can’t get a square meal out of them!”

Since we lost Mom in 2014, Dad finally has his peace and quiet. It’s allowed me to really get to know him too. He’s a truly good man full of faith, humor, and resilience. He loved deeply, he worried frantically, and he cherished us all. I praise God for giving me this time with him.

I love you Dad!

 

 

 

Last But Never Least

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My days since leaving work have been packed. How did I get everything done while working eight or more hours a day? I just didn’t, that’s how.

“So Jen, what have you been filling your time with?”  you ask.

Well, in addition to lots of business research, I’ve been working on several long neglected projects around the nest. Mostly though, giving my time and attention to those I love the most–specifically helping my daughter Julia and her husband Danny pack up and get ready for their move to the Windy City.

I have written quite a bit about my Vegans (a.k.a my son Jake and his family), and I have written about Olivia (my comedian). Julia has reminded me; however, that I have another child that I have yet to write about and she will not be left out.

Julia is my “baby girl,” And, while she may have been born last, she has never been least.

Even as a tiny girl, Julia was highly self-assured, intelligent, and unabashedly strong in her convictions–always oozing the most pronounced combination of both her parents strongest personality traits.

Like her dad, she has never pretended to like something or someone she doesn’t and is naturally good at just about everything she does. Like me, she has a preference for home, family, a few close friends, and sticking close to the nest–cooking, shopping, or swapping family gossip with me and her aunts– rather than going out or partying.

Since graduating from college, Julia has been diligently creating her own nest in Madison with Danny. This was perfect when I was spending two days a week there. We would see each other almost weekly, could easily grab a quick dinner, or hang out for a few hours after work to catch up.

Now the big city is calling her and Danny another two hours away, and I no longer have reason to work in Madison each week. So last week, we packed up the newlywed’s nest and put it in storage to wait for their new apartment to be ready.

How fun for a young couple to experiencing life in the city? What an exciting new adventure! Yet, I confess it makes my heart ache.

Julia has always been my faithful companion; eagerly tagging along on every shopping whim, sharing all types of culinary experiments, or simply watching chic flicks while painting our toenails.

I now have a little over a week to have her home all to myself.

Well…

I do have to share her with Danny and her Dad.

OK…

and, she has to work too. (I’m finding it really hard not to interrupt her office hours just to check in and see what she’s up to.)

Still, I’m glad to have even a little time with her.

Julia is amazingly responsible and resourceful. I have no doubt about her and Danny’s success on this next adventure.

As for me, I’ll take on the big city just so I can spend time with my baby girl.