Tag: God

self improvement

Asking Questions. It’s My New Form of Talking

Andrea Frazer

sss

This just in: I am talking less and asking more questions.

I’ll just let that sink in and get back to you tomorrow.

Until then, I’d love to ask you a question – and be honest: Do you listen to truly listen, or are you computing info to best formulate a comeback that proves your side of the street?

Leave a comment and we’ll talk tomorrow!

Happily Ticked Off Tip #24: We have two ears and one mouth for a reason. When I remember that, life goes along just fine!

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, meditation, spirituality, Uncategorized

I Meditated. I Didn’t Kill Anyone or Myself.

Andrea Frazer

I was much calmer today thanks to meditation. Because of my time spent in quiet stillness, first thing in the morning, my whole day passed without me being either suicidal or homicidal. #yayformeandmyfamily

All sarcasm aside, I’ve never wanted to kill anyone or myself, but when I’m wound really tight, I’m killing the joy in life. Starting my day with some still breathing, readings and prayer, helped me move from one task to the next with way more ease than yesterday.

ssss

God Calling is the devotional I read. I love it because it’s just one scripture verse per page per day. Sometimes there is an old hymn verse thrown in for good measure.

I also read this every day.

ssss

It talks about acceptance. For this control freak, acceptance is everything. If I think I am running the show, I am basically saying that I know better than God. I do not know better than God. We are all God’s kids. Reading this reminds me to keep my trap shut and trust that if someone wants my opinion they will ask. (That concept, my friends, has been the absolute hardest thing for me to change. Lucky for this lady, when I pray and meditate each day, God does it for me.)

“Meditation Is Not For Me!”

One of my readers, The Bookworm, commented, “I’m sure meditating is good for the soul. I’ve never been able to do it myself, I feel like I have too much nervous energy but for me, it’s running. That’s my form of meditation.”

I say whatever you need to do to not be a lunatic you do that!

As I have mentioned before, I have no real structure or expectations to my meditation routine. I don’t sit up. I drink coffee. And the closest I’ve ever been to Nirvana is to be interrupted by an LAUSD automated system telling me my sub job for the day has been canceled and I can crawl back in the covers with the crazy pitbull mix and sleep in.

I will add that while intention in life means nothing without action to back it up, intention in meditation is different. For me, it simply means, “I don’t have all the answers. Here is some time to get still because God does. Period.”

ssss

Happily Ticked Off Tip #23: Meditation doesn’t have to involve an ashram and a yogi. It can be any time you set aside to allow someone other than you to break through your ego and run the show so you don’t have to. PS: Ego stands for “Edging God Out.” That’s good, huh?

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, spirituality, writing

When I Don’t Meditate… It’s Not Pretty

Andrea Frazer

My daughter, son and their bestie, Miss L, are downstairs doing a second load of dishes. They are singing Dear Evan Hansen’s Sincerely Me at the top of their lungs. To quote the mom from that show, and the title of the first song,  “Does Anybody Have a Map… Can Anyone Tell How the Hell to Do This?,” it was just one of those days.

Saturday Madness

I woke up at 7 to get Evie to a dance audition by 8.

I slept in the car for an hour… I mean slept like the dead.

I came home and attempted to sleep there, too, but the sheets smelled like dog and ass. The bathroom needed a washing. It just felt… icky. I would love to be that person that says, “Oh, well, the cleaning can wait. Let’s just enjoy life.” But with laundry, dishes and no food in the house, I knew getting into action was the best course of action.

And at first had no regrets about that. My bathroom looked good and smelled less like a truck stop.

But add in grocery shopping, taking the kids to a play production tonight, plus concern about how to get Stink’s broken bracket fixed on Monday since I’m working and can’t make it on time and oh, yeah, he needs to sign up for college level Japanese because no he doesn’t want to take Spanish or French which is already offered at his high school and, um, I picked up a few regrets by 6PM.

I got really snippy with my kids. Note: I didn’t scream, but when I get controlling and nitpicky and nothing my husband says or does is helpful, I know that it’s not my outsides that need to change. It’s my insides. And that can only happen with a re-set.

And, well, that’s not going to happen tomorrow.

We have family coming in from Chicago in the morning.

Phia has a vocal lesson at 12.

Later, Rex and I need to swing by his mom’s house on the way to our communication class to fix a broken toilet and deal with an unexpected family death.

Lest I sound like a martyr, or one of those “My kids do too much it’s my own fault for not saying ‘No’ kind of person” I will state life is not normally driven at such a breakneck speed around here. (Nope, when it’s slow and we just hang out I instead get to battle “My kids aren’t doing the extra curricular activities others are doing the am not doing enough…”  And hey, that’s fear based/crap thinking!  I know it’s a lie but days like today take more energy to combat i. And no, 5 cups of coffee/day doesn’t help. Who knew? 😝

March just happens to be the season for my daughter’s school’s dramatic art activities. Broken braces happen. So does death. This crunch time will pass.

The only reason I was less able to deal with it at 630 tonight… when dinner wasn’t made… when the kids found Minecraft more important than the trash and dishes… when Rex was watching TV and I had groceries to unpack… was because I did not meditate this morning.

Me When I Don’t Meditate

xxx

I did not take time to say, “God, this day is yours. Direct my thinking.” When I do that, I can be like the tree that bends and sways in the wind and doesn’t break. When I don’t, branches fly. Leaves fall. And someone’s dashboard usually gets crunched when I ultimately fall through the windshield.

Lucky for me, this no meditating deal is an exception. Because it’s a daily practice, I had some reserve in my tank. (Translation: I was bitchy, not psychotic) But a few more days of not filling up and I’ll be running on fumes. And the car will break. And then it will take more energy and money to repair. How much easier would it be just to do daily maintenance?)

And so, tomorrow, I will get up at 7 and have some alone time with God.

And then I will buy bagels and welcome my family to my table.

I will get into acceptance that this month just happens to be one of those hectic times in my immediate family, but I won’t complain. Because one day these kids won’t be here to drive around. The tub won’t need so much cleaning. To quote Dear Evan Hansen, I won’t always have this For Forever.

Happy weekend to you all. Here’s to a better report tomorrow!

sss

 

 

faith, spirituality, writing

The One Spiritual Truth that Will Set You Free

Andrea Frazer

 

sss

So much has happened this week, it’s become apparent that sometimes the only thing to do, in no particular order, includes:

  • Get up a wee bit earlier to meditate and not rush.
  • Find new places on the way to work to do one’s business.
  • Thank said gas station owner for use of facility. If it’s a Starbucks, be grateful you only deposited a piece of yourself and not an additional $5.00 on a drink that would only make you search yet again for a place to do one’s business.
  • Not overthink everything (Are you on time? Do you have a plan? Are you flexible? If so, let the overflowing art sink go for one more day.)
  • Buy a notepad and try to stay current with tasks.
  • Don’t look at the end result. Just put one foot in front of the other.
  • Practice gratitude.
  • Get your nails done with your daughter.

ddd

Today I did the Call to Offering at church. This basically meant I tell a bit of my story and ask for money. In the past I would be worried about such an event as this: What would people think? I’m so new! Am I being hypocritical? After all, I’m not exactly throwing down hundred dollar bills in the offering plate myself.

But when an unexpected death occurs – both in body (last week – someone from my hubby’s side) and in soul (my own over the past few years) you start to realize that true resurrection comes in dying to self and becoming the person God intended you to be, not the person you thought you were supposed to be.

Don Miguel Ruiz writes an amazing book about breaking the four contracts we unconsciously sign that set us up for a lifetime of suffering.

sss

The book is a one day read and has transformative nuggets of truth that have been life changing for me.

This book aside, dying to self can also often mean not having all the answers.

It means honoring myself where I can with rest (14 hours snooze Friday night? That’s me!)

It means stating some ground rules with love to not sink in exhaustion Hi School Secretary. I’d love it if for one week you don’t schedule me to cover other classes during my conference time. When she responds back with It’s because you’re a sub You gently stand your ground. I’m a long term sub through June. I’m really at less of an advantage than a teacher because I don’t have a real lesson plan yet. I truly need the time to prep. And then you smile, because this particular secretary is super nice and just doing her job.

And, to be a decent human, you add on, If you must schedule me, though, I get it. Just asking.

And then when you inevitably get the call to sub, you thank God you have a fancy Chulux (it’s the bastard child of a Keurig), brew a cup of java, and head out to the bungalow clear across campus.

sss

And you do this because at the bottom of all your hard earned faith is a cosmic nugget that you will share with said readers that will transform their frustration to acceptance. To put it bluntly, it’s the one spiritual truth that will set every single human on earth free.

Zero Fucks Given.

You’re welcome.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #18: Zero Fucks Given is an attitude that allows you to surrender to God’s will for your life. It’s like the red carpet for the spiritual set.

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, spirituality, writing

Sychronicities, God and Peacocks. It’s a Thing

Andrea Frazer

Beginning this summer I started hiking every day in the beautiful hills of Santa Susana. In between chatting with fellow teacher friends and attempting not to fall on my ass (or that it didn’t bug me when I actually did fall on my ass…which was about every day) I felt like I could see Indians still living in the hills. Sometimes I’d see a snake slither by or a coyote slink past due to recent fires. I loved these hikes. Not only did I develop a beautiful friendship with women I only knew on a surface level the prior year at school, I also felt a deep spiritual connection to the God of my understanding.

222

I am Christian. I love Jesus. I feel the Holy Spirit stir in me constantly, nudging me sometimes to push harder, other times to just rest in his love. Like the big JC, there’s a time to pull out the whip and a time to kick back with homies and have a fish fry.

I also, however, discovered a well of spiritual truth that goes beyond my Christian framework. And that well was tapped by peacocks.

It started with my friends driving me to an adjourning neighborhood where wild peacocks roamed. Vibrant and colorful, it was hilarious to see them preening and strutting next to garbage cans and brick patios.

The next day I saw an ad on a bus that involved a peacock.

This wouldn’t be a big deal to me if I hadn’t also seen a peacock in some stained glass while lunching with Tuskany and the kids at a funky pizza restaurant.

111.jpg

And at LAUSD headquarters. 14 stories up. In the tiny corner of a banner that just caught my eye.

Or on a Trader Joes grocery bag I randomly picked up near the chocolate almonds.

Or at a friends house… in the middle of the city… where there was a water bowl. “What’s that for?” I asked. I was visiting her to discuss my latest faith crisis. I had not yet moved churches yet and I needed the wisdom of this lovely 70 year old hippy. More than that, I needed an ear to just listen while I sorted it out.”Oh, that bowl is for this peacock that just started showing up at our senior complex. It’s weird. We have no idea where it came from.”

Add in citings on stationery, cards, devotional covers and fat men with tattoos at the gas station covered in peacock memorabilia and I finally got the idea to look up the meaning of the peacock.

sss

Here’s what I found this wild fowl signifies in the Spirit Animal world. (Note: My inner evangelical started screaming at the woo woo ness of this idea, but my inner spirit had bigger muscles. Yup, that brute chokeheld my uppity church gal and urged me onward.)

Note: I have always believed that God is in sychronicities. I pay attention – hence finally getting my head out of my feathered arse and looking up the peacock meaning.

The Peacock Meaning

  • Awakening
  • Spirituality
  • Many eyes of God (like the feathers)
  • Resurrection
  • A love of language, lovely things and eccentricity

Okay, okay… maybe this represents me. But come on, really?

Then post my big church exodus, this book randomly comes across my Facebook feed:

sss

And to think this whole time I thought my spirit animal was a taco truck.

(Thanks God, I’m listening. And strutting!)

PS: One hour after I wrote this post I was waiting in line in the restroom of the Pasadena City Playhouse. My friend, Cat, had bought me tickets to Ragtime. She’s a p.e. teacher and I’ve never seen her use a real purse. Until tonight.

sss-5.jpg

Of course.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #17: Pay attention to synchronicities. It’s God’s way of getting your attention.

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

Losing My Religion. And Tacos.

Andrea Frazer

sss

I found a new writer who pretty much describes the transition I’ve been in for, oh, the past 20 years. Her name is Elizabeth Baker and she writes about her move from Evangelical Christianity to Progressive Christianity in places like HuffPo, her own blog at ElizabethBaker.com, Scary Mommy and more. Call it the wanna be Evangelical in me, but I’m still a bit uncomfortable with some of her word choices (ex: Why People Think Christians Are Assholes) but I get her drift. She’s over hiding her questions. And so am I.

sss

For a long time I felt like I wasn’t good enough. I drank over it. Raged over it. Hid behind my feelings that “something just doesn’t feel right” with my soul. When I found a big church, it felt like the pieces came together just enough to keep me from breaking apart. I loved the sermons and the pastor. I loved some of the people. It felt safe. People were kind to me. But there was also a bottom line: There was one way to heaven. Doubt, resist and flail, but in the end, put down your guns.

I wanted to do this. I was used to doing this. After all, when everyone else is right, and you are wrong, this is an easy creed to follow. And yet, there were issues. I had a Jewish father, lots of Jewish family members, and many friends from other faith traditions. I tried to swallow the idea that my conservative church’s way was right, and their’s was not, but I never felt the need to convert them. The only thing I wanted to ask them was if they could pass the bagels or the Tikka Massala shrimp.

As time went on, and I found my strength through a 12 step program and a flock of girlfriends who just let me be me (as well as raised independent thinkers who asked hard questions that couldn’t be answered with just black and white Bible verses) my facade of “it must be this way or I’ll crumble” well… crumbled.

And in the rubble, with just me, the Holy Spirit and an empty cup of Yuban, it hit me: I didn’t want my church’s “religion” so much as I wanted the assurance so many of the members seemed to have. For the first time, I had honesty about my doubts. And while that honesty was uncomfortable, it was like finally taking off a pair of jeans that were too tight. I felt free. Less burdened. I didn’t lose Jesus. I just lost my need to have someone else’s Lord.

The Awkward Rebel

I know that many conservative folk would say I’m being rebellious, but if they knew me, they’d know I’m the most tender, rule following good girl there is. But often that has been at the expense of this good girl’s wellbeing. And that felt bad.

So Now What? 

I believe with 100% certainty that God is for me, not against me, but I also believe he is for you if you are naturally born gay. I don’t believe it’s a choice. And I can no longer attend a church that counsels people to deny this aspect of their being.

When I get quiet, which is where I hear from God (just like Paul did… just like many male prophets did) I hear a tender voice that reminds me, “You don’t know everything, Andrea, but you were fearfully and wonderfully made. I love you. Now go out and love others and put down the judgement today. And by judgement, I don’t mean of others. You have always loved others. I mean of yourself. And eat a taco while you’re at it.”

And so I did.

I joined a tiny open and affirming church that allows me the respect to question, seek and love my fellow worshippers exactly as they are, not as religion tells them to be. And I’ll be providing the taco bar for fellowship in a few weeks. If you, too, are a seeker, come join me. Services start at 10.

sss

And if you’re happy at your more traditional church, that’s okay, too. I don’t want to be right. I just want peace. And I wish the same for you.

Happily Ticked Off Tip #12: Find Your Own God, Not Someone Else’s. If You’re Wrong, God Will Let You Know. And It Will Make a Fun Story at the Welcome Back Church BBQ.

Until next 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. 

books

 

Coaching and Wellness

10 Ways to Jump Start your Dark Mood, Essential Oils and Tic Coaches. It’s a Thing!

Andrea Frazer

blog

Okay, so my last post wasn’t all that encouraging. I was down and out over the sounds of these tics over and over (and over and over… and over and over) and I was ashamed that I was so angry. Shame comes in many levels, and here’s what my inner voice yelled at me:

  • “Again? The same complaint again?”
  • “How can you have published a book about being Happily Ticked Off and still feel so mad?
  • “Why can’t you concentrate on the great things that are going right?”

Here’s the answer I got back

  • “Because you’re human. Duh.”

This voice of reason (which I call the Holy Spirit… he’s a cheeky fellow) was quickly followed by another revelation… one that used to take me months, years, therapists, wine and meds to figure out: I can start over.

So… 8 hours later (and one trip to Wood Ranch BBQ thanks to a very patient husband who listened to me fret over my life, career, tics, worries about holidays, money and wrinkles while stuffing myself silly with overpriced but delicious chopped salad and more bread than the Pillsbury doughboy) I did.

I started over.

dpg.jpg

(Oh, wait, that’s not my husband. That’s my spoiled pit bull who is not allowed on the bed no way needed some love just like me.)

Solution

Thanks to years of getting better tools in my tool belt, I did indeed begin anew the next day. Why? It’s the only way. I refuse to play the victim. As someone in my Sunday group likes to say, “Blame, Shame, Explain… it’s a nasty cycle.”

And so with that in mind, I reminded myself once again of a few things that maybe you need reminders of today.

A) No one is in charge of my feelings.

B) I can grieve, but self-pity has to go. It’s not productive.

Inability to Move Forward 

“But I’m sad! I can’t move on!” you might moan. I was like that, too – for more time than I’d like to admit. I remember the feelings of frustration and the well of despair that the sounds of tics brought on. (Heck, I lived in that space for eight hours the other night!) But I have done enough mental and spiritual work to know that tics aren’t truly my problem. Tics are simply a trigger for deep rooted beliefs that who I am is not enough.

And that, my friends, is a big fat, hairy lie.

Would I like less tics? Of course. But that’s not what I really need. What I really need is to get out of self, let my son be who he wants to be, so I can become the woman God intended me to be.

Who Am I?

These days I am substitute teaching, writing a pilot for a producer I truly adore, and considering getting a Masters/teaching full time next year if said pilot is not sold. (I am not trying to be negative… just realistic. I love teaching. I need income. And I’m almost 50. I need to go where God – and a paycheck – would have me be. That destination is not one of confusion but of peace.) And so there’s no point spinning in a bad mood now. Instead, I have options! And here’s what a few of them were that I took the day after my emotional 8 hour self-pity fest.

10 Ways I Jumpstarted My Attitude (Perhaps these will help you, too!)

1

  1. Acceptance: I once again reminded myself that my son has Tourette Syndrome. There’s not a damn thing I can do about it in the moment the sounds are happening.

2

2. Let Go: While there are solutions to some of the sounds that my son could employ (Acupuncture, Brain Balance classes, meditation, supplements, testing for leaky gut, CBD oil and more) he’s not willing to do embark on this journey at this time. I once again chose relationship over pushing my point. As my mentor likes to remind me, at this stage of my particular dance with tics, it’s like dealing with a chronic alcoholic where you think there’s maybe “Just one more thing” you could have done to keep them from going on a bender. Instead, I reminded myself,”There is no ‘One more thing to try. There is only acceptance. Let go.”

3

3. Powerlessness: This is such a tough thing, but #1 and #2 drive me to my knees every time. I am powerless over the tics right now. I just am. There is no “one more fix.” I reminded myself, for this moment in time, “I am powerless.” That might sound like defeat, but it’s actually victory, because when I realize I have no control, I don’t have the burden of fixing it. It’s such a relief.

5

4. Service: Thanksgiving was coming up. I could either ruin the holiday with my frustration or I could pour myself into making it a beautiful night. I chose the second and I am forever grateful. (High lite: Getting Western Bagels with my daughter and playing Christmas music in the kitchen while she baked and I cleaned the dishes. It’s a combo that works for us every time!)

4

5. God: I remembered, once again, that I am not God. If I could fix the tics, and my frustration with them, I would. As of today, I don’t need a human fix. I need a supernatural fix – one that reminds me that there is something far bigger at play than what I see on the surface. When I can surrender to the fact that God has a plan for my life, and my sweet son’s, my entire mindset switches and I can get into #6…

6

6. Gratitude: Gratitude is not something that comes naturally to me. Naturally I am a whiny, self-centered, give me comfort/instant gratification kind of gal. But when I remember all my blessings, and then thank God and everyone around me for them, I am immediately catapulted into a new dimension: one of peace and contentment. There is always, always, did I mention ALWAYS something to be grateful for. The lie: I think I can only be grateful when the tics go away or the house is clean. The truth: Happiness is an inside job. I get happy first and the tics bug me far less, never the other way around. Never.

6

7. Friendship: I called a good friend and had an ugly cry. Instead of trying to find instant solution, I grieved what I had hoped would be a relaxing vacation without noises. She promptly reminded me of #8. (Personal shout out to Tuskany, Barbs, my sister, Susan, my 12-step homies, Ria, Linda, Rose, Karen, Lavender, PrairieMom, Jodee and so many other women in my tribe who I just couldn’t imagine life without. You ground me. You let me be me. And I am so grateful.

8

8. Self care: I’m often the last person my list, and then I blame and shame other people for not meeting my needs. Um, not such a great dynamic. Instead, I took my friends advice and employed radical self care. I took 2 baths/day for a few days and didn’t obsess over people who had no water in Africa while I relaxed in an amazing tub

(Note: my tub does not look like this photo. I did use a candle, but it had half its wax missing. Brown stuff lined the shower grout… if the grout that was not missing… and my legs are so long they practically smash me in the face when I soak, but this picture is so much more alluring. And she has amazing legs!) I had that extra cup of coffee. I bought myself some amazing MAC Ruby Woo lipstick. I did some glorious window shopping at the mall and whenever negative thoughts came into my head, I told them, “Thank you, you are no longer welcome here. Now go piss off.”

9

9. Exercise: I walked every day this vacation. Just 20 minutes. I did not lose 20 pounds, but I did get into gratitude for how lucky I am to live on a beautiful street, to walk as a woman without feeling fear for my life, and enjoy a wave hello or goodbye with a neighbor. (When negative thoughts about world politics entered my mind, I refused to feel guilty. I voted. I did what I could. But negative news does not negate my obligation to have joy regardless. It’s a must.)

10

10. Organization/Decoration: I cleaned my house and decorated for Christmas. (See that tree? My daughter and hubby surprised me with it on Saturday. And by “surprise” I mean I put it on my Christmas list. I didn’t wait to get nothing while I shopped for everyone and then felt angry that I had nothing for me. Nope! I have always wanted a white tree and this is what they found. Perfect! It looks like candy on taffy. I truly could eat it. If I had a design company, I’d call it “Lickable Designs: Products So Amazing You Could Lick Them!” (Don’t judge.)

I hope this list helped you! I know that it helped me writing it out. Until next time,

May God grant you the serenity to accept the tics you cannot change, the courage to change the tics you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My book is available on Amazon. Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. 

bookcover profile pic

 

Uncategorized

When Will It Be Enough? Oh, You Mean NOW?

Andrea Frazer

kids together

Sometimes at the end of a long sub day

The kids come home and there’s hell to pay

The dishes from morning are still in the sink

There’s a lamp on the table and it sure makes me think,

“Why do I cook and do shopping and clean

And all of the other shxxx all in between

While they can do school and come home and relax

I swear those ungratefuls can go kiss my… donkey.”

And then I remember

“They’re only teenagers!

With just a few short years left

Don’t you think you should savor

The fact they do homework? That they don’t argue much?

When, Andrea, when, will it be enough?

When your son stops his ticcing?

When you sell your next book?

When you get on a show?

When you hire a cook?

When you hire a maid?

When you get a new car?

Perhaps what you want is not really that far

You’ve got cars to drive in

You’ve got water to run

You’ve got food in the fridge

In a nutshell… you’ve won!

Stop waiting for Stink to stop making those sounds…

For the toilet seat lid to just for once to go down

The magic is happening… RIGHT AS YOU TYPE

With the neighbor kid laughing and the sweet pumpkin spice

That’s in my diffuser

Plus there’s chill in the air

It’s Fall time at last

And these days, I swear

It’s becoming more clear

That’s it’s my attitude

That keeps me most happy

That indeed sets the mood

So I’ll set all boundaries

I’ll remind them of dishes

I’ll have them fold laundry

But this mom – she wishes

To remember that mostly

This time… it’s so short

It seems yesterday, friends, they were setting up forts

And now they have cell phones

And geometry tests

So I’ll do what I can

But let God do the rest

In closing I wish

That no matter your deal

You’ll focus on things that are precious and real

The hugs and the smiles

The books by the fire

Because when kids are gone

And it’s time to retire

You’ll miss all the chaos

(Yup, even “those” sounds)

And wish those sweet donkeys were still coming around.

Until next time,

May God grant you the serenity to accept the tics you cannot change, the courage to change the tics you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My book is available on Amazon. Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. (Yes, I’m back on Facebook for work mainly!)

bookcover profile pic

Uncategorized

Dark Clouds

Andrea Frazer

I subbed today in a music class. What started out as a sweet group of sixth graders who thought I was the bees knees for having penned a song about their favorite show, Gravity Falls, eventually morphed into a mob of horny, obnoxious, loud eighth graders who walked around their seats, took selfies and thought it was their God given right to pound the drums or bang on piano keys just because they felt like it.

The I-pad wasn’t working, so the regular scheduled programming of Mulan wasn’t an option to kill the time. (Not that a kids Disney movie was going to do much to squelch the angry mob of hormones anyway.)

I had two choices:

  1. Let them run wild, potentially causing me more grief in the end if a desk gets toppled or an administrator swings open the door, causing me to be fired, my kids not to eat, and us landing on the street (not that I’m dramatic much…) or:
  2. Educate them the best I could.

I chose Door #2, giving them the background to Hamilton and playing them some of my favorite songs through the speaker.

“What does our hero mean when he says, ‘I’m not throwing away my shot?'” I asked.

“He means, ‘I need to pee. Can I use the bathroom?” one answered, hand flailing like one of those inflatable wobbly men used to advertise gas stations and car washes.

“No,” I said, hedging my bets that they were just looking for a way to distract themselves from show tunes and I wasn’t going to have to clean up urine near the drum sets.

“Why would Lin Manuel Miranda write a musical about a founding father in charge of the U.S. Treasury?” I continued, to which someone else replied, “Because he’s una idiota. This musica suckas!”

This, of course, elicited loud cheers and guffaws.

The inner school girl in me wanted to tell them what idiotas they were being. “Don’t you want to ensure you get an education beyond ‘paper or plastic?‘“ I wanted to scream.”

Instead, I just ignored the naysayers and focused on the kids who lit up the way my eyes would have lit up if a teacher in cat eye glasses, complete with a Hamilton tee shirt and Harry Potter necklace gave me a welcome distraction from the regular scheduled routine of chords and a-hole ring leaders.

Stillness – It’s the New Control Mechanism

sss

Meeting chaos with quiet. It’s a new thing I’m practicing. Some days I actually think I’m managing well. Other days family members ask if I’m depressed. I think serenity on this a-personality type must be akin to if Mother Theresa got decked out in my thrift store overalls. It’s that different.

But, scout’s honor, I’m not depressed. I’m surrendering. I’m tired of fighting windmills. Maybe, while I wait for direction for my next phase of life, I can simply do my best to spread love and education to those that want it, and those that don’t, I can simply let go. It’s not like forcing my way on them is going to do anything but cause me grief anyway.

In the movie Broadcast News, Holly Hunter’s character starts each day crying. It’s simply to get out her angst so she can go on with the madness of her day. One of my favorite lines is:

sss

I can relate. But somehow, the world is going to have to live without my constant opinion every single second.

In closing, I went to the shi-rage (a cross between “she” and “garage”) this evening for a little reading. (I’m going through Present Over Perfect for a second time. I really wish Shauna Niequist would just read this blog and invite me for coffee or to her Sunday night Practice gathering. I’m no rabbi or priest, but I could do a rap about sobriety, writing, Tourettes and Substitute teaching like nobody’s business. I think that qualifies me.)

Stretched out on my recliner, I said a few prayers of thanks first and watched the clouds move across the sky – big chunks of gray with some bright sunlight peeking through. To me, that’s what this season of life is like: A bit fuzzy, but moving… every so slightly… into a glorious light of purpose. I’m not 100% sure yet what that purpose is, but as I always say, God does, and that’s enough.

And, as the God of my understanding always shows up in syncronicities, here’s the quote Shauna used for the most recent chapter I read. It pretty much sums up my feelings on slowing down.

sss

I considered for a brief second reading this quote to those surly eighth graders the next time I substitute teach, but I decided I like my head on my shoulders.

Until next time,

May God grant you the serenity to accept the tics you cannot change, the courage to change the tics you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My book is available on Amazon. Follow me on Twitter@AndreaFrazerWrites or on Facebook. (Yes, I’m back on Facebook for work mainly!)

bookcover profile pic

Uncategorized

Beeing Happy on Purpose

Andrea Frazer

Yesterday was my mom’s birthday. She’s 87 or 88. Not sure. All I know is that somewhere between a 12 step meeting, my daughter’s choir concert the night before, my son’s impending “not-date” later that evening and Costco shopping I baked her a cake to celebrate.

sss

I say this not to be the Queen of Busyness. “Congrats! Here’s your award for stretching yourself too thin and then yelling at the kids five minutes before she arrived that “I DO EVERYTHING and all YOU have to do is sit on your butt and watch Youtube where people thirty years younger than me are making three times as much money as me and NO I AM NOT BITTER.”

I’m not at all frustrated about making that cake. Or the fact that no dishes were washed while I was shopping. (Okay, I’m frustrated about that last one.) I mention the cake because, if I’m not careful, I will be so busy busy busy doing and fretting and striving that I will forget to celebrate the people who mean the most to me.

I don’t always celebrate well, especially the past five years in this endless loop of trying to make money while raising my kids and finding my purpose. My mom will be the first to say, “I know how busy you are, Andrea, but don’t forget to call.” That said, despite not doing things as effortlessly as I did when the kids were younger, I am proud that yesterday I didn’t let a rough start with the kids bleed into the birthday celebration. Some days, like yesterday, just not throwing a fit is good enough. And I’m learning not to apologize about it.

Plus we had a lovely evening later that night at Stink’s “not-date”. While Stink was at the movies, Rex, Pip and I walked around the mall. We ended up playing this charades game, “Heads Up” on Pip’s phone. In the process, two random women walked by and started playing with us. An hour later, I learned all about one’s marriage issues, one’s scrap metal business, the fact that one of them just booked a part on Modern Family and how another wishes she could get into film editing but she’s thinking of starting a family soon. My introverted spouse and daughter just let me play Jay Leno to the latest guests on the Andrea Show while they checked out some free samples at Lush. I’d say I felt bad holding court without them, but it was a blast. I’m always in my happy spot when I can just converse – and that leads me to today’s message in church.)

Pastor Dre  was talking about Paul. He spoke about the importance of finding joy in our less than perfect circumstances. That joy happens when we leave room for God. When we don’t have to do everything ourselves. Like that conversation last night with my two new besties. Not planned. Not going to serve me financially. But honestly, made me buzz with the joy of the banter.

Choosing to be happy is a decision we must make every day. It might seem like an odd thing – finding small bits of glee when things don’t feel so easy in the grand scheme. But that’s kind of the point. We must choose gratitude over what is working, and not focus on what isn’t. That’s where the peace comes in.

As of this moment, I don’t feel particularly joyful. I am tired of the thought of waking at 5am to wait for a sub call I may or may not get. Why don’t I just finally go and get that Masters in Education and be done with it? But if I do that, there’s no more writing. At least not for a few years. Am I okay with that? Sometimes yes, sometimes, no. I’m sick of having no consistent income. So what am I waiting on?

And so, round and round I go. But, to quote my sponsor, sometimes the hallway is exactly where we need to be. If we’re so busy trying to fill it up with fixes, we may just block the door to the freedom and purpose that we’ve been waiting for.

For tonight – just for tonight – I will put on my sneakers and enjoy the beautiful Fall air.

I will relish in the fact that I have a clean car and a script to work on tomorrow.

I will focus on happy children downstairs and a pizza being made by my husband.

And I will remember that I don’t have all the answers to everything right this second. But God does. And that’s enough for now.

sss

Bee photo from here.