Month: April 2017

Around Here

~ Michelle Johnson ~ Leave a comment

Around here life looks like this right now:

I am planning and prepping for Noah’s graduation and grad party.  Some of it fun, some of it is emotional, most of it is stressful.

Kiki is finishing up spring semester but won’t be coming home for the summer.  She will be taking classes and working in Eau Claire. I’m going to miss having my adventure buddy but am so thankful to see her thrive.

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She is also interviewing for a paid internship that will also count as her student teaching.  Fingers crossed!

Noah is in the homestretch of his senior year.  I’m so proud of him for so many reasons.  I think he’s feeling the stress and worry of leaving home next year but he doesn’t want to talk about it, at least to me.

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I’m pondering what I want my 47th trip around the sun to look like and what changes I need to make to align me heart and my home.

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Bruce and Kiki are finishing up training for their second Eau Claire Half Marathon.

We are all adjusting to the new cat I brought home, some of us better than others.  🙂

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We are tossing around the idea of going away this year over Christmas. Maybe St. Maarten.

With no more hockey and a calendar that’s more open than it’s ever been, Bruce and I are figuring out what this new season of life will look like.  You can only see so many movies.

I’m feeling antsy and unsettled, but that’s typical of me for this time of year. It will pass. I’m learning to give myself grace and allow myself to let go of some self-imposed expectations during times when they don’t fit my life.

I volunteered to host a group of women in my home for Bible Study.  We have been meeting at church since September in a larger group setting and have bonded quite well. I’m excited to see where this leads.

Life is feeling both more stable and more uncertain than ever, but in a less frightening way than in the past.  The unknown seems almost thrilling, like a book that you can’t wait to get home and read.

This is a good place we’re in.

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Less is Enough

~ Michelle Johnson ~ Leave a comment

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Finding peace is hard, especially when you’re trying to just do normal life and all of these life-y things keep getting in the way, like taxes and graduation planning and navigating the shifting dynamics of a family with older kids, and some days, just figuring out what to make for dinner.

But I’m determined. I’m going to do it. I’m muddling my way through the muck and making mindful decisions about what will bring calm into my world.

This month I’ve been asking myself very specific questions to get to the root of what it takes to have peace.  I have written them on post it notes and placed them in places I will see them — the dashboard in my car, the bathroom mirror, the refrigerator.

One of the questions I’ve posed is two parts:  What do I need to invite into my life to find peace?  What do I need to release? 

The second half of that question has brought to the forefront a nagging that’s been in my soul for a long time, I just couldn’t name it. Ironically, I don’t think I could even see it behind all of the junk that I had piled in front of it.

I need less. 

It’s not because it’s trendy right now.  It’s not minimalism or KonMari or capsule wardrobes.  It’s not adopting someone else’s prescription for what my possessions should look like.

It’s this deep seeded, almost primal need to strip myself of all that doesn’t reflect the person I am now or the path on which I’ve set myself.

I want to be surrounded by things that I love, not just things that were purchased to take up empty space (both in my home and in my heart).

I want to acquire less and appreciate more.

I want to lead a curated life, not a collected one.

I think that we creatives are hoarders by nature.

We hoard paper and yarn, fabric and memorabilia, trinkets and treasures, words and memories, heartache and tears.

We collect and store all of these things and, when the time is right, we take them out, examine them, turn them around in our hands and in our minds, rearrange them, and use them to make something new.

We create something that didn’t exist from things that did exist, something that reflects how we see the world.

We hoard and create to make sense of things.

It’s a messy, imperfect process, but a necessary one.

The problem arises when these possessions begin to define and devour us; when we begin to think that the next good thing will bring us to a place where we are everything we imagined we should be.

But it never works.

We will never find peace in the doing and acquiring and achieving and appeasing.  We will only find peace in the being.

I think that finding peace is counterintuitive.  While it seems like it should be effortless, it requires intentional, mindful living.

Peace is found in those crevices of nothingness between all of the doing.

Peace lives in the place of what we have and who we are, not what we want and who we think we will be.

Anything less leads to chaos.

Peace isn’t a thing you create, it’s a thing you claim. 

And I’m claiming it.

I’m claiming it every time I choose to exist in the present instead of ruminating on the past or the future.  I’m claiming it when I go for a walk or visit a museum or read a book for no reason other than it brings me joy.

I’m claiming it when I simply allow others to be who they are, not who I wish they were or who I expect them to be.

I’m claiming it when allow myself the same grace.

And in the quiet moments, in the times when I am alone with myself and shut out the noise of the world, in the brief glimpses of silence, I find peace.

Currently reading:  Lilac Girls: A Novel by Martha Hall Kelly

Currently Loving:  All things Scandinavian, including The Year of Living Danishly and all things Hygge

Currently Obsessed With:  Diffusing lavender, sage, and eucalyptus essential oils.  It smells like a spa!

 

Remodeling

~ Michelle Johnson ~ Leave a comment

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God is moving in my life right now.  Change is happening, I can feel it.

And I don’t like it.

When God is moving in your life it can feel uncomfortable, unnerving, disorientating, raw.  It’s hard to know which way to go, so I’m learning to wait, to be still, and to trust.

When you remodel a house, you must first demolish what is there — you must destroy things, discard things, make things dusty and dirty while you prepare for the new. All of the conformable things you depended on must be removed, at least for a time. All of the pretty things must be put it boxes and protected until the process is over.

Someone walking into the space during the process might see nothing more than chaos and  destruction.  They might take no more than two steps inside the door and turn around and leave, seeing nothing but ugly.

But you know the final plan.  You know what the space will look like after it is rebuilt and made new again. You can see the beauty over the mess.

So it is when God is moving in our lives.  He is rearranging things that are in the wrong place on our priority list, He is getting rid of things that are taking up space and don’t bring Him glory, He is making room for Him. We may only see the mess, but God has the blueprint.  He knows what the final product will be.

And so it is now with me.  God is shifting things around in my heart. It’s uncomfortable and messy, and I have found it easy to fall back into old patterns of numbing—with food, with drink, with shopping, with screen time.  But I reminded myself that none of those things has ever brought me peace, not one single time.  I reminded myself that I am different now, I know better ways of being.  I reminded myself that the discomfort is temporary. I reminded myself to trust God, the master architect of my life.

And if I trust Him completely and give Him full authority over my life, the end product will be more beautiful than anything I could have imagined.

I trust that this is true.

 

 

Letting go to take hold

~ Michelle Johnson ~ Leave a comment

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I give up.

I give up on the things that have a hold of me, the things that pull me down and stop my progress.

I give up on the things that feel like cement shoes.

I give up on trying to be someone I’m not.

I give up on too much: too much food, too much worry, too much wine, too much stuff.

I had it once, not that long ago.  I had ahold of the calm, the predictability.  I had my feet on solid ground.

But I was careless and let it slip away.  I allowed old habits to creep in, slowly, silently, almost imperceptibly.  I gave them an inch and they took my life.

But I’m taking it back.  I’m willing to go to battle again because I know how victory feels and I know I can win.

And most importantly, I know I’m worth it.

I won’t give up.