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truth train: getting over myself is hard

/ Margi Sang / Leave a comment

I have a dear friend named Jenny. She is so funny – mostly because her comedy is not on purpose – just who she is everyday. She wears her guilt on her sleeve and cannot live in a lie. She is a wonderful person and when she wold need to admit to something she wold make a face and say “okay, truth train…” then share what ever it was that eating at her. Usually, it was something like, “I used all the colored paper and didn’t go get more,” or “I let them use glitter, and told them you’d love it if we made sure to get it in the carpet.”

As a teacher I introduced my students to the Truth Train. I would start class on Mondays with “Truth Train: Who did their homework?” The responses to Truth Train questions were always honest. I don’t know what it is, but people cannot lie on the Truth Train. I think I use more then Jenny does these days. Mostly, it makes me laugh and reminds my heart of the honest and loving people I know.

In that spirit, it is time for my own little Truth Train to come to town.

Truth is this blog scares me! I haven’t even shared the address with anyone! No one I know is reading this – not yet – the goal is that they will … one day, hopefully soon. I am having a hard time letting the truth out from my head, So much for being bolder. I am ridden with fear right now. Fear of things I think about all the time. Something about putting it all out here is overwhelming. It’s scary to know that once it’s here – it’s here. I don’t have something scary to share, nor do I anticipate really deep moments to happen here. Just every day stuff I want to get through. I just want to be intentional about my life and process what that is, what is looks like for me. I am not sure fear is the right word for what I am feeling but it’s a part of it. There is probably some issues of comparison in there too. I am hoping this post helps me get over myself.

I used to want to be a writer, I wanted to write stories and essays about things I’ve learned and things I love. I majored in creative writing and the one time I submitted a piece for publication I made it to the honorable mention listing on the over page of the journal. It was a really proud moment for me. I never submitted anything ever again. I started to think that I had nothing worth reading about. People love to read about heartache and tragedy. I thought I didn’t have any of that to write about. My peers referred to my stories as heartfelt and warm; innocent and fresh; cute. Cute. I went home and cried after that one. I probably didn’t even make it all the way home. I didn’t want to be cute. When I read those stories now, they were – they are cute.

I needed to learn to own myself, my experiences and my heart. I still need to learn how to do that. I think the years since my writing was described as “cute” have provided me with a larger net to grab from. The problem is that I am not going down in to that net. I know now that cute was fine. It was the truth and it wasn’t terrible. That the truth is, sometimes we need cute, we need warm and innocent. I least I do. I sometimes yearn for those softer moments. Talk about not knowing what you have.

It’s almost the more I have learned about myself in the past 10 years has also taught me how to put up walls from myself too. That is where this fear is coming from. This block between now and my bolder self. I am so excited to be my bolder self – the self that is intentionally and authentically me. I am excited for you to know that person too.

So, like I said in the beginning this blog is my own little experiment of living bolder. I am trying. It’s taking me a little longer to get to that deep end then I thought it would.

 

routines

/ Margi Sang / Leave a comment

I woke up this morning and the lights were on, my glasses were on, and I was on top of the covers. In case you are wondering, I hadn’t been drinking. This wasn’t the first time this week I’ve woken up in this state. I’ve done this a lot in the past six years. Sometimes it is out of pure exhaustion. Are any of you educators? If you are, I am confident you know what I mean, you’ve done this before – surrounded by papers and expo markers that appeared on your person somehow then somehow made it in to your bed and bathroom, you can relate. Unfortunately, I can also confidently say this is not a side effect of my current occupation. This is just me being ridiculous. Not going to bed, because I don’t have to. Me trying to read two books at the same time, journal, watch The New Girl  and, yes and, be fully present with God. Why am I doing this to myself?  I am currently not on a schedule, I don’t actually have to set an alarm clock and it is really messing me up.  This, it’s a cry for help. One I am also refusing to hear. A sure indication that I need routine. I am living like a 12-year-old girl basking in mid-summer glory.

It’s April. I’m 29-years-old. I don’t have a job.

Ouch. I don’t have a job. You know, it’s really fine as long as I don’t have to think about, especially as long as I don’t have to speak it out in to the world – like a just did. Ugh. It’s the truth though. I have no job. I am also not really looking for one. I promised to allow myself this  8-weeks between leaving my job and starting the last five weeks of  my grad program to do all the things I needed and need to do, to rest and read and start this blog and pack all my things and get rid of most of my things, to do my homework, and move, and truly embark on some serious self-discovery. It is scary.

Turns out I am afraid of myself, time, and relaxing. Or maybe I just don’t know how – maybe that is what scares me. I have been trained to love to be busy. I love to have plans and stay up too late and make a big giant mess. I even (some of you won’t believe this) love to then clean up that big giant mess. As long as I can do it with the music really loud and for hours on end. (who has time for that!) I am the most disorganized perfectionist that ever live. I feel really confident in stating that. You know what, if I am busy, then it is much easier to ignore what I really need. Rest. Stillness. Solitude. Who has time for those things when you are filling your schedule with everything else.

 

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Part of me loves getting up too early and breathing in that air. You know, the air that just tastes like dew. That cold, crisp air that reminds me of camping in the woods. I am from the desert and camping in the desert does not produce this same morning air taste. In the desert it’s all dirt. I love that too, in a different way. Anyway part of me really loves that air, the air you can only get at like 6:37 in the morning. I don’t really enjoy moments in that space any more. I am either rushing to get to work, or sleeping during the peak hours dew filled lungs. I really love staying up way too late. My brain is on fire at night. I think there are a couple of reasons for this.

  1. At night I finally stop moving around and my thoughts, especially the creative ones, have a second to catch up. They flood me.
  2. I usually accept that after 11:00PM I have nothing left that needs to be done, so I want to do all things that I never make time for.
  3. Everyone else is sleeping.

Nothing on that list aids in allowing me the time to spend with all that crisp dewy oxygen. It’s hard to make a delicious cup of coffee to drink on the porch during the calm morning hours when you are still in bed because you stayed up till four in the morning – for no reason at all. Let’s be clear – I don’t do this all time. I haven’t done this every night, but it has happened more than twice in two weeks. That’s too many. (I am also a sleep advocate).

All that coupled with my self-imposed summer vacation has led me to be completely overwhelmed by the hours of the day. I can’t get anything done. I keep texting and gchatting my friends “How do people work? There is so much to do. How did I ever get anything done when I had a job?” (Clearly procrastination and I are great friends.) A clear problem was brewing.

My solution: Make Lists.

I’ve made a to list of 30 things that I need to do in this time. This list includes things like fix middle drawer, sell table on craigslist, spend more time with God, prep email for member survey, clean out books and sell/give away, figure out what to do with my life, finish reading “this thing around your neck,” travel, start and finish leadership project, find a therapist, find a place to live for NYC summer, move. Then I made a few other lists, to help me with the bigger list. So far I’ve crossed off 18 things. It is really hard for me to go blindly in to what ever I will end up calling this season of my life. So these lists are like my bumpers so make sure at the very least I make it all the way to the end of the lane, even if I only hit a few pins – I’ll feel pretty good about myself.

The lists are nice and all, and really helpful in terms of focus – but here’s the truth. I’m in a stage of avoidance. My heart hurts and I just want to stay in bed all day. I don’t but on some level I really want to. It’s lonely when everyone you know is where ever they are supposed to be at least 5 days a week, and plugging away at whatever they believe is part of their purpose in life – or at least doing something that might one day just maybe lead them to or allow them to seek that purpose. I am setting alarms so I don’t feel like a bum, and going to the gym to try to lose the thirty pounds I put on in the last two years. Yeah, 3-0. I’m catching up on homework that is months late and not reading enough because I am too busy staying up waaay past my bedtime failing at multi-tasking.

I am laughing at myself right now. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t on some type of schedule. I actually have all the time and I can’t get it together! I keep telling people I am having the time of my life. I am. Really. I am just not doing it well. I have used being busy as an excuse. A reason to not. To not clean my room, and put my clothes away. To not call my friends and family, to not eat well, or exercise. To not take of my self, to not do the things I actually enjoy doing. To not own up to why my heart hurts and why I put on those thirty pounds in the first place. Now, I have the time to breath and do all those things, get some healthy habits and it’s hard. That’s okay. Not one said being your best was easy – so why do I expect it to be? The world is really forcing me to let go of what I think should be happening and move towards making things happen.

So, I have a bed time (no later than 11:00) and a wake up time (no later than 8:00)  and I’m getting myself a schedule – that includes reading and writing and spending time doing the things that help me feel like myself. Turing on the music really loud and dancing is part of my schedule, so is drinking coffee. Basically, I’m going to rule the world by the middle of June.

At least my little part of it.