faith, God, Jesus, meditation, self improvement, spirituality, Uncategorized

Everything Happens Perfectly. Even When It Doesn’t.

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As a recovering perfectionist, one of the biggest keys to my serenity has been to change what I can, let go of what I can’t change, and have wisdom to know the difference. Translation: Everything happens the way it’s supposed to. When I stop fighting it, and accept it, it’s easier.

I would not believe the above statement, except that lately I’ve been dealing with more chaos than I ever have, and yet there’s peace.

I can call it prayer and meditation. Or sleep. Or any of the things I listed in this blog. But a good chunk of my peace has come from reminding myself… literally reminding myself… “Hey , Andrea, this stuff that is happening at this very moment? It’s happening! The laundry! The last minute friend plans that got swapped. The dog barking at the mailman. The tv shoot three corners down that makes you feel crappy that you still haven’t sold your pilot because, oh… here’s a concept… you have not finished it! Oooh, new concept:  Let the guilt go because you can’t change it. The only thing you can do is change your attitude!”

Besides the fact that my inner voice really needs to stop drinking so much coffee and shut up for once, the fact remains that there is one person and one person alone responsible for my serenity.

You guessed it! Me me me! Normally my favorite subject is me, myself and I. But not when I’m responsible for the change in my reaction to life. Which, of course, I always am. Every. Single. Time.

That’s a lot of change.

But, not unlike this giant metal container my husband has in the corner of our bedroom, a drop of change here and a drop of change there adds up to quite a bit of treasure in the long run.

Tonight, as I start my bath, my default setting is to go a bit glassy eyed with the prospect of work yet again tomorrow. With getting ready for camping. With paperwork due to a new school district and how again will I manage my daughter’s latest social commitment combined with my picking up my son and his friend after school?

But instead I will remember that everything happens perfectly.

I can only get so much done in a day.

I can stay right in the moment.

And thank God that for now… this very moment… I am safe. I am loved. And you are, too.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #48:  Everything is happening perfectly. Just surrender and stop fighting. You don’t have to like it, but acceptance makes it easier to decide what you can change, what you can’t, and allows for wisdom to know the difference.

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

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faith, God, self improvement, spirituality, Uncategorized

The Days of Wine and Roses… at Trader Joes

Today we moved Rex’s grandma out of her mobile home. She had lived there for 20 years, but when her only son, Rex’s dad, died suddenly, it became too much for her to live alone.

Grandma Stella doesn’t drive. She reminded us of that frequently in between sobs of grief and scattered thoughts.

“Did you know my son died?”

“Yes,” I’d answer, holding her hand.

“That bastard sold my car!”

“No one loves me,” she’d cry.

“But we’re all here. We have food. And will take you wherever you want.”

She’d light up. “Oh, how wonderful!” Then she’d go dark. “Do you know my son died?” Enter the sobs followed by a quick burst of anger. “THAT BASTARD SOLD MY CAR!”

Round and round she’d go, like a human version of Dory from Finding Nemo 3: The Dementia Years.  Fear of finding her on the floor, and many calls from concerned neighbors, drove us to making better arrangements for her. And although she agreed to the move – which is more like a five star hotel than an old timer’s home – it was still very discombobulating for her.

When we came to pick her up this morning, her entire two bedroom coach was packed in old cardboard boxes and shopping bags with more notes than a college student at midterms.

“What the hell is going on here?” she’d ask.

“We’re moving, Grandma, remember?”

“No! No I don’t remember!” she’d bark. “I just want to drink my goddamn coffee. For Christ sake, I’m still in my nightie!”

This was true. She had damn good legs for her age, too.

No amount of coaxing could move her forward. She’d just sit down in her husband’s old rocking chair, her whole family in front of her, only to complain about being shoved into a new home where no one loves her. All the talk in the world about a movie theater, a lovely one bedroom apartment, cafe, restaurant and classes wasn’t cutting it. “It sounds nice, but where the hell’s the pool?” she’d moan.

The goal was to get her out of the house before the actual movers arrived to cushion the blow, but no such luck. There she was when Javier and Rocco showed up. For whatever fucking who knows why reason some miraculous reason, she remained very calm while they were there. “Don’t forget my rosary…”  “Don’t forget my brass ducks.” “Hey, do I need this bra? My tits haven’t seen this much cleavage space since 1967.”

While James sister and mom went ahead to the new place with the movers to get her furniture and clothes set up, Rex and I took her to Trader Joes to buy her fruit and vegetables vodka and wine. While sampling the coffee, I showed her off to a lovely worker named Judy.

“Stella is 97,” I bragged. “Can you believe how strong she is to move into a new place?”

Judy was enchanted with Stella’s zest for conversation and split between her teeth (most everybody is, minus her new neighbors who will likely be tired of her asking where the elevator is by Day 2.)

At the end of our gab session, Judy remarked, “Stella, God is with you!” to which Stella retorted, “Cut the crap, Judy.”

A real testament to the fact that Trader Joe’s hires only saints, she casually replied, “But it’s true. I’m not a religious person, but I know God is around. And Stella, he is here for you.” What could Stella say? “You know what, Judy, I believe that you believe that!”

Then she flirted with a 50 -year-old stocker named Rene who gave her a free bouquet of roses on our way out the door.

I can’t help but think life is a lot like Stella’s move. It’s heart wrenching, exciting and ridiculously whimsical all at once. In between the tears and truck diesel and “where the hell did all my hangers go” confusion are samples of coffee, God and a handful of flowers.

Somehow, we make it through.

May your week be a good one, friends. And, if you’re in doubt, just be like Stella and clutch your pillow… taking it one step at a time.

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Happily Ticked Off Tip #47:  When life changes unexpectedly, grab your pillow if you must but don’t go to sleep – keep walking… one step at a time.

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

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faith, God, Jesus, meditation, parenting, self improvement, spirituality, Uncategorized

10 Things I Do Every Day That Make My Life Not Suck

Just when I thought I might have every last bit of energy sucked out of me subbing for Middle Schoolers, the dawning of a new and glorious day is rising for this tired writer. In three words, it is SUBBING. IN. HIGHSCHOOL.

These kids sit still. They don’t talk over me. They don’t take selfies of their butts (at least not in front of me) and they actually leave the floor looking like a floor instead of a paper airplane meets Tajin powder factory.

In having a quieter classroom, I’ve had time to feel something that I haven’t felt in over a few months. What is that strange feeling you might ask? Oh, it’s serenity! Quiet, calm dear Jesus I can breathe serenity.

In breathing in the glorious flow of the past few days, I had to admit that while things have been dicey the past few months, I have not been in the bowels of self-pity and despair that non-sober thinking Andrea might have been. Instead, I’ve dealt with what has happened. I’ve cried, I’ve had a few pissed off moments, but in general, I’ve not only handled my business but been of service to my fellow workers, friends and family in the process.

Here are the 10 items that have saved my booty. I hope they resonate with you, too! (So many quotes are by my favorite writer, Anne Lamott. Anne, if you’re reading this, feel free to come for tacos on Tuesday. We start promptly at 630)

  1. Prayer: Every morning for 5 minutes I pray. (On the days I forgot, my life wasn’t as calm.)

anne lamott prayer

2) Meditation: Every morning for 5 minute I sit still and listen. (They say prayer is talking to God and Meditation is listening. I add in coffee because in Andrea language it is also helpful to be awake!)

anne med

3) Reading for a Spiritual Boost: I read something spiritual every day. Sometimes it’s my Bible, sometimes a devotional, or sometimes something from a favorite writer like Anne Lamott. (Just reading these quotes from her reminds me that someone out there feels just like I do. That to me is God in action.)

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4) Reading for Fun 

Even if it’s only for 10 minutes, I try and read a book that is just for entertainment. I’m currently reading Fablehaven. It’s my son’s recommendation. I don’t love it. But I love that he’s 16 and wants me part of his world. It also keeps me out of the fables I tend to create in my own head if my brain is too unoccupied.

reding anne

5) Gratitude Lists: My husband and I send five things we are grateful for each day to a set of friends. I also do this with a friend from my If You Don’t Drink You Don’t Get Drunk Program Great Spiritual Practice. What started out feeling so awkward and cheesy has 100% changed my life. My brain automatically now goes to what is working instead of what isn’t. (Note: If I waited for life to get better to get grateful, I’d still be waiting. The great miracle of gratitude lists is that in doing so your life does get better, because your thinking improves. And perspective is, indeed, everything!)

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6) Showing Up Early/Staying Late: I am almost always on time now for work. I don’t do it just to look good. I do it because I’m it keeps me from rushing. In not rushing, there’s more time for error. There’s more time for casual conversation with the school secretary or the student who wants to know, for the fourteen thousanth time, when his vocab quiz is going to be. Extra time means less stress which means there’s more room for God to operate in the magical space between the chaos.

7) Asking People About THEM: As much as I enjoy my favorite three subjects, Me Myself and I, I can’t tell you what joy I get from hearing other people’s stories. Not only is it fun to see people light up (or vent) but I’m selfish: It keeps me from thinking about me me me. It keeps me humble and, to say it again, in gratitude.

8) Journaling: This is something I just began again. It’s absolutely so calming. Just the act of printing on the page slows down my ADHD fast racing brain. I used to do it for the first 20 minutes in the morning per Julia Cameron’s Artist Way directive, but that time is now left to God. Instead, I plug it in during a slow class or on a break.

9) Laughter: When I remember that I’m not so important, but God is, I can let go and just laugh. This often means reminding myself before I pick up my kids to not have to win every single argument. It means turning on Grace and Frankie instead of cleaning the bathroom. And when people don’t behave, which they often do not, I just pretend I’m living in a Neil Simon play and watch the wacky stories of my life unfold around me.

10) Writing: Every day I try to write. It gives me a sense of purpose and connection. My blog isn’t as fancy as I’d like it. I don’t podcast or market as much as I’d like. But instead of focusing on what isn’t working, I focus on what is. I cut myself a break.

There’s so much more I could add, but doing these 10 things allows me to build the framework for these other items. Without them, I couldn’t battle my perfectionism. I couldn’t exercise or have the stamina to clean the house or set expectations for my kids. These 10 things were not natural things for me. I incorporated them slowly.

And don’t get me wrong – they were incredibly inconvenient. But so are newborns and puppies.  You don’t get the cuteness and lifelong companions if you’re not willing to be selfless and clean up the poo – even at 2am. My serenity is always in direct proportion to how willing I am to be inconvenienced.

Leave a Comment!

What about you? What are some things you do every day that keep you sane? (Or what are you willing to start doing?)

Until next time,

Happily Ticked Off Tip #45:  Your serenity level will always be in direct proportion to how willing you are to be inconvenienced.

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

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education, God, Jesus, meditation, parenting, spirituality, Uncategorized

This Too Shall Pass

A few years ago if someone told me bad months would pass, I’d have wanted to punch them in the throat.

Then for the past two months I had the sub job from hell, my father-in-law died, another one of my family members began to lose their marbles, one of our sinks hit the skids, the dog now has a lump on her back, one kid got rejected from a club they had really wanted to join, I dealt with church moving grief and we continue to have dish wars that often end in me feeling like I am either too hard, too soft but most of all… not eating on clean flatware.

But I can honestly say that through it all, I have held on. Because I knew that this, too, shall pass.

And whatever you are going through, if you can hold on to that for tonight, I can promise tomorrow will get better.

Until next time,

Happily Ticked Off Tip #44:  All that stuff you’re worried about? Stop and breathe. This too shall pass.

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

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God, Jesus, meditation, spirituality, Uncategorized

Coming Home… Literally (A Resurrection Spiritual Experience)

As many of you know, I’ve struggled for years to find my higher power. I have wrestled with the guilt of not fitting into an evangelical mold that I thought was going to save me. But I had misplaced religion with faith. I had misplaced fear of not being good enough with an impossible Biblical task list.

I have many friends who promise me that Jesus is the answer to feeling good enough. I adore them and their strong foundation for living. But for me, it took letting go of a Biblical model, and a good dose of 12 step, to get serenity. I don’t apologize for this. I’m just being honest.

I have solidly landed in the place of Anne Lamott meets Lin Manuel Miranda when it comes to my faith and, well, I couldn’t be more grateful. That said, the Evangelical devil still sometimes shouts at me. It comes in the form of angry shame poking at me:

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Acck! Run! Shut down your brain and just believe! Because, no, cults aren’t started like that, right?

Scary as that shame can feel, I can’t do the “Must Do’s” anymore to fit into some Christian design for living that only one group of people adhere to. There’s other interpretations. I’m not such a pile of poo for leaning toward those. That said, I’m not ready to give up Jesus. He still calls me. In fact, when I pray to him, and I comb the scriptures and his messages, I see nothing about hard core “Must Do’s.” I do, however, see a hell of a lot of love and acceptance. Yeah, filling up on that feels amazing. (It’s either that or a tube of Trader Joe’s Ho Ho’s. Jesus is better for my figure.)

 

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“This concept of yours? That’s not love, that’s wishful thinking to create a God based on your human understanding,” many of my church friends have told me. “That’s you wanting to play God.”

Comments like that had me second guessing myself, but I trudged ahead with my new found peace anyway. My serenity must have irritated a friend of mine, because when I told her about my new found contentment she remarked, “Of course you feel relaxed. That’s exactly where the devil wants you.”

Side Note: When someone is struggling with something spiritual, telling them that they are falling into the clutches of Satan’s evil grip is not particularly helpful.

Last week felt particularly stressful. Between burying my husband’s father, some work shake ups, and being alone with my thoughts for an entire week while on vacation (oh yeah, this over-thinker sure knows how to do Spring Break!) I was pretty uncomfortable. That’s when I had a life changing conversation with my sponsor, Rosa. She reminded me to stop thinking and start praying. Specifically, “Pray that God shows you in a way you can understand.”

This was on Wednesday.

I started praying… really praying... every day. When I’d feel guilt or shame for bucking the system, I’d pray, “God please show me in a way I can understand.”

And then something incredible happened.

On Sunday I brought my friend Annie my new church. She brought a friend, Tina. Both had never attended services there.

As a reminder, this is a church I had attended as a little girl. I have had dreams about it for years. I could literally smell the pepper trees and feel the calming presence of God from the old school chapel. In those times of quiet, and in my dreams, I could almost hear the words, “Go home… go home…” so I finally did. For the past 3 months, despite feeling like a rebel without a clue, I kept going home. I felt safe there. It felt right. And on Easter I knew why.

When Tina asked me why I drove to this church instead of staying closer to home, I told her the above story.

Tina: “Where did you live as a little girl?”

Me: “Woodland Park.”

Tina: “I live in Woodland Park. What street did you live on?”

Me: “Martinez.”

Tina: “I live on Martinez.”

In my gut I knew before she even asked the last question.

Tina: “What house #?”

Me: “21309”

Tina: “That’s MY house!”

It was then, truly then, that I knew I had heard from the God of my understanding. All those peacocks… all those many eyes of God… I had finally listened. I found home. Literally. And for that amazing experience, on Easter Sunday no less, I am so grateful and humbled.

What Length Are You Willing to Go to Find Your Resurrection Story?

Happily Ticked Off Tip #43:  Careful about asking God to show you in a way you can understand. He just might… and it’s unbelievable! Be ready!

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

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meditation, spirituality, Uncategorized, writing

Why I’m a Christian. Worries. And Toilets.

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I have decided, encouraged by this post by Fractured Faith, and a week of contemplation thanks to glorious… oh so glorious… vacation… that I’m giving up worry.

It really makes sense. I mean, why did I get sober, or why do I believe that this God of mine died and rose from the dead if he wasn’t going to take care of me and all my concerns that really, in the end, I can’t control anyway?

Yup, it’s time to tell my negative thinking to take a hike. I mean, if you looked at me, with all my gazillion friends (I’m blessed) and happy go lucky attitude, you might think I had it all together. And on many fronts I do. But inside there is always a bit of restless discontent or anxiety. If I were a doctor, I’d call it a bit of OCD mixed with a bit of ADHD and a sprinkle of good old fashioned neurotic wiring.

But I’m not a doctor. But I do know this: When I sleep, eat, laugh and connect with my friends, family and God, sometimes my little anxious friend goes away. Hey, I have an idea: Why don’t I just do that! Connect and laugh every day!

Not taking myself so seriously means quite a few things for my ego, though. Poor little ego. This shame thriller doesn’t get to invade my present with its insistence on dwelling on the past or the future. It means:

  • I’m not going to overthink if I’m a good enough Christian for not believing everything I read hook line and sinker in the Bible. (Yup, I worry about that.)
  • I’m not going to worry that I like meditating more than I like doing memorized prayers from my childhood. (Yup, I worry about that.)
  • I’m not going to worry that I’m 20 pounds over the bobble head Los Angeles model range. (Yup I worry about that. Well, no I don’t. The emaciated pre-menopausal crone is so 1996.)
  • I’m not going to worry that my house isn’t perfectly clean or that I have formica countertops with a burn mark circa Carol Brady 1968. (Yup, I sometimes worry about that.)

What Gives Me the Audacity to Kill Worry You Might Ask?

Because if I can show up to Good Friday services at a church located in a perfectly respectable tree lined suburb where someone found it 100% respectable to put their toilet on the curb next to my car, then I don’t have to be so buttoned up either.

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It means I can give myself permission to enjoy pancakes with 3/4 of my family while the other 1/4 sleeps in. (Hey, newsflash: I don’t have to control everything! That even includes using plastic striped plates with an old table cloth and a crusty Maple Syrup container!)

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It means just giving in and letting the dog get up on the fainting couch while I book some camping sites with my husband. My very cute husband who, might I add, loves it when I’m not quite so serious also.

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It might mean dancing whackily in the kitchen to Maroon 5’s Sugar, eating M and M’s for breakfast on occasion and not getting as much done on my pilot this week as I’d hoped.

But given the incredible outpouring of love, friendship and family I had this vacation, I know that everything is happening exactly as it’s supposed to. A little discipline… a little letting go… and a lot of trusting that this God of mine rose above some oh too serious Pharisees in his day. I can rise above my worry, too, then. I can throw my head back, and laugh.

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At the very least I can eat pancakes and, worse case, I don’t feel well? I know of a free toilet not too far away in an emergency.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #42:  Give up worrying if you can by just not taking yourself so damn seriously.

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

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faith, parenting, self improvement, spirituality

I Am Not God: A Brilliant Offering on Letting Kids Fail (Of course, not my offering… but what was given to me. Just read.)

not-god

So this week was hard but amazing. I’ve known for a long time with my teens that there’s this fine line between letting go and setting boundaries.

But deeper than that is the underbelly of motivations. What am I doing from fear? What am I doing from my own selfish need to re-live pieces of my past through them? And, as was the case this week, what do I not know about what drives me?

That last place can be some pretty murky water for a control freak like me. I am lucky enough to have someone I really value. Who literally knows every single thing about me and still loves me (kind of a scary thing) and she pointed a bright flashlight into those dark waters to illuminate something out that I had no idea I was even doing.

What the Hell Are You Talking About, Andrea?

I had bought some lessons for one of my kids, but they weren’t practicing as much as I’d have liked them to. When I was frustrated about this, my sponsor said, “Are those lessons a gift?” I responded that they were, indeed, a gift. To which she said, “Then you need to stop having expectations about it. She can feel your expectations. Yuck.” Before I could get too offended she remarked, “That’s manipulating. And controlling.” (So much better! Thanks!)

Honestly, I was pissed. But I also trust her. She has not steered me wrong yet. When I get irked, it’s usually because she’s right. My ego just wants to down a six pack and eat a case of Oreos. But I didn’t get sober for my ego. I got sober to live in reality. And that means honoring the sad truth that when I’m irked enough, it’s never about the person, place or thing that’s bugging me. It’s always about me and my expectation. Not 80% of the time. not 99.8% of the time. 100% of time.

Like a masochist I dug further.

“But what about teaching my kid how to be responsible?” (Yeah, that seems reasonable. Plus, as Tuskany wisely pointed out, “Are lessons really a gift? Aren’t there some strings?” Yes! Yes there ARE I decided. Now I was really confused!)

To this my sponsor responded, “Life will teach them all the consequences that they need.”

Okay, that sounds nice on paper. But my bank account was vomiting in protest. “But I’m spending $200/month on this,” I balked. “That’s one expensive life lesson.”

My sponsor got silent. (That pretty much means Yoda is about to speak some serious truth. I braced myself. And good thing. Because what came next really shook me to my core in its brilliance.)

“How do you know that this ‘practice’ you want them to do is really going to change the outcome anyway? What if they are supposed to learn something by failing? Or maybe they won’t fail at all? Or maybe this ‘thing’ you are hoping they will be by taking these classes turns out not the be the thing God wants for them in the first place? Why do you think you know better than God? YOU ARE NOT GOD.”

Um, schooled.

NOTE: I use the word “they” to keep the privacy of the “he” and “she” people in my house. I am trying very carefully to honor them by pulling out my nuggets of learning – for what that is worth – and not compromise them with pics and details. Such is this stage of life. I adore them.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #39: You are not God. Stop predicting every outcome like you think you know everything and let your kids fail. In doing so life becomes the enemy, not you.

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

books

faith, self improvement, spirituality, writing

Rejection is Protection!

This post is dedicated to my friend, Gabriella. She helped me get out of a very dark place 25 years ago and now I’m helping her see the light, too. God is so good that way.

Hi all! Well, my big proclamation of “I’m going to write every single day no matter what” went to hell when my long term sub job ended a bit abruptly. Without getting into details, I was “invited” by the principal to have my last day be last Wednesday. It’s a complicated story that leaves me still very  much welcome at the school on an individual day to day basis, but long term gigs? Not so much. There was a clash with one student and it was better for all parties that I exit gracefully. And I did.

I’m so relieved in many ways. It was such a challenge to trek an hour each way (that includes my inevitable pit stops) and rush clear across town to get my kids from their school. The principal could not have been nicer about it and, well, I choose to see this as a learning lesson – which it was.

On the other hand, my ego took a major hit. Yeah, all those other posts about getting into gratitude and acceptance? I was a fucking liar. When this happened I was triggered on every level:

  • Hurt pride
  • Unworthiness
  • Shame
  • Guilt
  • Financial fear
  • Lack of faith in new work

Of course all that crap above is nothing but lies. I “know” that none of those things are true. But unlike my kids, I’m not as impervious to rejection. I take it personally. Old wounds that have not quite healed get brought to the surface and bam! Woman down! Woman down!

Thank God I’ve had enough program to feel bummed out but not do the inevitable spiral down into major depression, a case of Trader Joe’s fake oreos and a bucket of Two Buck Chuck. As I love to remind my children when they don’t get what they want, REJECTION IS PROTECTION! (Though technically this term is not true if condoms had factory errors. Then rejection really is not protection at all, but I digress. Oh, vulgarity? It’s the one character defect in my program I am not willing to give up. Just sayin’. I left evangelicalism and I like dirty jokes and the word ‘fuck’ too much. Don’t judge.)

Good News!

The good news is that I didn’t defend myself to the principal. I made an error, I admitted it, and all was well. I subbed at the school the following Friday.

Oh, Wait… There’s Bad News!

The bad news is that those shame gremlins run deep. They might only come out in the dark, but they are a pain the ass and their fur gets all over your previously cleaned house and scare the dog. It’s annoying.

Tomorrow is a new day. Just like today, I’m taking it to be by myself… less to ruminate and more to relax, sleep in, nurse a cold and go for a small hike. (Though of course I did indeed churn and churn today. I do Locked Brain so well! Even at UCSD I received an A+ in Persevaration, thank you very much!)

My new goal? Rest a bit more and think about what I want to do with my life. Is it really to take the “safe” route of teaching, only to find out that it’s not really that safe after all? I don’t know, but God does, and for tonight, with a cold dripping down my nose and the prospect of watching Voyager with my husband, that’s enough.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #37: Rejection is protection. Instead of seeing where you’re at fault, try getting into gratitude that God has something better. He always does.

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

books

faith, self improvement, spirituality

Life Death and Big Pink Flowers

Today we officially said goodbye to my father in law. It wasn’t a big funeral. It was a small group of us: my husband, his mom, sister, me and the kids. We took my father in law’s ashes and spread them out on the ocean.

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It was a weird mix of sadness and relief. Sadness that my husband and his family had to bid farewell to a man they weren’t quite ready to say goodbye to. (It happened so fast. Good for him, not so easy for the rest of us.) But relief, too, because now everyone can move forward with the healing process.

I have found that the best support I’ve been able to offer is to give less advice, ask more questions and just listen. This is not the time for me to “fix” anything. Sometimes things just are what they are. At least I’m not fixing problems that occurred from putting my foot in my mouth.

All this silence has given me an awful lot of time to think. And today, what struck me most during the solemn affair was how, in the end, we all go back to the earth. We can strive to sell books or teach classes or have nice homes, but at some point… if we’re lucky… someone is carrying our remains in a bag and wishing us well on journey into the next spiritual realm.

Maybe this sounds depressing, but to me, it takes the pressure off. In my faith, either Jesus died for me or he didn’t. If he did, then maybe I don’t have to sweat the tough stuff so much. Maybe I can grieve and feel those pains of loss, but at the same time laugh and feel the joy because I don’t call the shots. If this Jesus is who I hope he is, he promises something better after the dark fades. He promises that while certain people have gone back to the earth, new life will pop up with glory and color.

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I will try and remember that tomorrow morning when I face that same student who decided I was a terrible teacher. I will take a look at this same pink tree as I drive down the street and pray that whatever darkness she experiences in her home she can bury. I can pray that, like my savior, she can rise into something more vibrant and beautiful that brings joy and color to all who behold her.

And, well, if she can’t, I can, and I’ll let go. Because honestly, I can’t take on the world. Instead, like this picture taken last night when I stepped out of a house full of guests to breathe in the dusk, sometimes you just have to be reminded to sit ON shit rather sit IN it.

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(Yup, that’s four big stinky bags of fertilizer.)

Bottom line: May you grow flowers in your bullshit this week and make the best of whatever comes your way.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #35: When you’re dealt a lot of crap, grow flowers.

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

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Coaching and Wellness, education, faith, self improvement, spirituality

Hypocrite in Transition: Staple That to My Cardigan!

sss

Just yesterday I was saying how I meditate every day. If I don’t, I’m a mess.

Today I didn’t meditate. And shock of all shocks, I was a mess this morning.

I gotta admit it, I’m TIRED. I can’t keep on top of the waves of life that are rocking me these days. Work? I can do that. Kids to doctors? I can do that. But all the other stuff like remembering market items and birthdays… being on time for meetings or slowing down with my kids to really see them in the morning and not just rush rush rush while being cranky that my husband had the audacity to fix the pockets in my jeans so I don’t look like a vintage homeless giant? I’m kind of losing the game there.

Because I don’t allow myself to get into victim mode anymore, my mornings don’t define my entire day. There’s always an opportunity to start over. How? Hint: It doesn’t involve getting other people to behave. The only way for that to happen is to right size oneself. And the only way right size wonky, upside down thinking is to get in gratitude and be of service.

I’m no mathematician, but that’s a formula that has kept me from being homicidal or suicidal for the past year and so I gladly share it with you.

Ex: Today one of my students was sitting at my desk doing a big fat nothing. “Why do you let her sit at your desk?” you might ask. The answer: “Because she’s a bit on the fringe. I keep an eye on her. I make sure she’s doing work. Which, sometimes she doesn’t. And by “sometimes” I mean “often.” Clearly this is an IEP kid who needs some extra nudging. In a class of 40 with no aid, this isn’t easy. I can only offer lack of judgement and encouragement when the energy of the class transitions from savage ingrates to mediocre feral.

Knowing her wiring, and adding in the fact that she is not spitting, licking the desktop or throwing a basketball from one table to the next (yeah, that happened once) I gave her a passing grade during progress reports. So you can imagine my surprise when she left a homemade envelope on my note. It had more staples than guards at San Quentin. On it, in my black sharpie (which she did not ask permission to use, of course) read the words “MS. FRIZZLE. READ THIS. IN PRIVATE. NOW.” It was decorated with very sad cartoon drawings which, truthfully, were way better constructed than this awkward art teacher could have done. But I digress.

On the inside was a letter that read:

Dear Ms. Frizzle. I am very very upset with you. I got a B in this class and CLEARLY I deserved an A. I am very mad at you and want to tell you how WRONG this is. L.

What could I do? I wrote her back on the same strip of paper. I sealed it with more staples, hoping they wouldn’t poke her little paws and bleed all over my freshly washed desk. It read:

Dear L: I am so glad you took the time to write me! You spell very well! I am surprised that you are sad with your B, given that 25% of your grade is participation (you do not participate) 25% is your vision board (you did not complete this) 25% is your test (you have not taken any so that was an automatic A – Congrats on your easy win!) and 25% is behavior (you rarely take out your work after multiple prompts.) When you add this up you technically deserve an F in my class. Are you willing to change some habits, and your perception, to bring your B to an A by June? Ms. Frizzle. 

The responding note I received blew me away. In a good way. And it couldn’t have happened had I not switched my own perspective. Check in tomorrow to find out!

Happily Ticked Off Tip #31: When you get centered, other people behave. It’s really that simple!

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Are you ready to stop blaming other people for what only you can do which is to center yourself? If so, sign your name to commit to the journey. (For me it was commit or be committed. I’m glad I took the first step.) Let’s support each other!

My book is available on Amazon. (Note: It’s a special ed journey… your kid doesn’t need to have Tourettes to relate!) Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

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