intentional

in the middle of my crazy week,  i sat outside on one of my favorite porches in uganda-lit with little white lights and some lanterns, with some of my favorite people in uganda.  we were discussing the book the glass castle by jeanette walls.

we all loved the book, but each of us were touched by different things, and reflected on different parts more than others, and carried our unique perspective on this womans life, into the dialogue.  the book is really her story- her real true tell all story about a family that looked very outwardly broken, but had a few strong bits that held them together- like- a version of love, a version of commitment, and a version of consistency- the chaos was consistent.  we talked about how this woman who grew up in in poverty, frequently homeless, usually with out enough food, with highly disorganized parents, ended up going to an ivy league school and becoming a writer in NYC?

her parents, flawed as they were, were the same crazy people day in and day out.  the chaos and disorganization was their normal. there were no mind games- no manipulation.  their dad loved them, and he was a drunk. their mom loved them, and didn't care about the 'rules of raising a family'. the tension of the opposites. they lived, as she says, at the boundary of turbulence and order.  the family was always together- the parents stayed married (depsite substance abuse and probably some mental illness), the kids were told they were special, valuable and intelligent and capable.  that was the order.

the turbulence was everything else.  the feast or famine, living in a rotting shack- but driving a cadillac won in poker,  the mom eating chocolate while the kids are starving.  being told they are loved, but no reaction to reports of molestation, owning land in texas, but living homeless in new york.  being given an inappropriate amount of trust by their parents as they were required to fend for themselves at an early age.   "sink or swim" whether it's a sulfur pool in the desert, or at a bar with your dad when he's hustling someone, or trying to find your lunch out of the trash in the school bathroom- jeanette swam- because she had to.

i think part of her success came from her feeling special.  she was her dad's favorite- even if he was drunk half the time- he was there, he returned, he made time for her, he let her know that she was important and unique. he gave her a planet for her birthday from the night sky, he showed her the world in a way she'd never have seen with out him. she belonged.

all of us discussing the book are mothers, with different styles and ways- but fairly similar versions of how we love our children: with provision, protection, priority. we strive to be the safe place, and from that safe place- help our kids manage the disorder and the chaos that comes. we strive for order- we avoid unnecessary turbulence.  because life has enough turbulence of it's own. 

before we all talked on the porch, i'd spent the afternoon with my friend at her house- being a part of her typical day.  kids, friends over, dinner preparations, dinner time, bed time.  i'd been up to the guest room where i would sleep, it was complete with fresh flowers. what i realized is that i felt safe.  because the house of my friend is so beautifully ordered- and i mean "house" in the sense of her life.  i mean she is intentional in her parenting- her listening- her responses.  she isn't reactionary, or hoping for the best- she is thoughtful and attentive and real.  she allows herself to be this way.  i mean she has consciously chosen to embrace and live into her motherhood.  there isn't a lot of debate, or anxiety around what she should or shouldn't do, she lets the clarity be what her life is. she makes really good healthy food, intentionally. she makes an amazing cup of tea because she pays attention.  she helps her kids feel special because she is with them at pick up, even if it's the third pick up of the day and she could just send the driver. her actions speak louder than her words, probably because she doesn't shout. (doh!)

i am often distracted, disordered and i'm sure full of turbulence. i wonder if i appear unbroken- but really.. fasten your seat belts. i hope to be more intentional.  i want to stand still, feel my bare feet on the ground, and let what i'm hearing and thinking be the same. i want to always be that safe place for my kids, those i've birthed and those who've come into my life and my heart. i want to be that place of returning.

because everyone needs a place. everyone wants to feel loved, and special and to belong to someone, somewhere. and everyone should. i'm realizing how easily i took for granted that i grew up in that place of safety and belonging and dependable love. that i grew up with someone in my corner- someone who was looking out for me. and i'm realizing that we can be that for each other  in how we parent, or friend, or talk, or mentor, or employ.  we can share our life with each other, we can 'spread special'. we can strive to be intentional in our living.

'because life is short-  we should forgive quickly, believe slowly, love truly, laugh loudly and not avoid something that makes us smile. we should carry a heart that never hates.'  anonymous