Reframing

When I was a kid and my parents realized I needed glasses, they took me to the eye doctor, and I picked out the tackiest, most ostentatious frames a twelve year-old had ever dreamed of.  Those glasses were hella ugly, y’all, like blue and yellow and pink zigzags and dots with lenses the size of tea saucers. And I wore those ugly things for the next several years, completely oblivious to my optical faux pas.

High school called for some new frames, and the ones I ended up with weren’t much better than those hideous glasses of my preteen years.

Finally, at 35 years, I’ve reached glasses Nirvana with a pair of black wayfarers that embody my nerdy, vintage style perfectly. 

The point of this long winded trip down memory lane is to talk about the importance of reframing your outlook throughout your life. Just like I found myself new frames for my glasses for different periods of my life, so have I found new frames and perspectives as I have grown and developed as a human.

I read an amazing blog this morning that reminded me how important this reframing process is in life.  The article challenged its readers to reflect on the insecurities of their youth that they now look at as strengths. This process of reframing was so poignant and powerful to me, particularly since I’ve always struggled with overcoming my insecurities. Growing up, I hated many things about myself. My freckles. My sensitivity. My height. Nowadays, having traveled at least partway down the road to self-love, these are some of my favorite things about myself. My freckles are the constellations of my skin, charting the course of a childhood spent in the woods and in the sun. My sensitivity helps me connect with people and forge strong ties built upon empathy and trust. My height makes me feel powerful and beautiful, if not still a little awkward sometimes.

From this reflection on how my view of the insecurities of my youth have changed, it occurs to me that many, many things in life are truly about how we look at them and what lens or frame we look at them through.

We all have different frames we look through and different lens coloring our world. These frames and lens change as we grow, as we have new experiences, as we meet new people. We are lucky to be complex, evolving creatures who can embrace a variety of experiences and perspectives; we are lucky to be able to change, because change is growth.

This recent election and many of my current challenges in my own journey have made me happy that I am a fluid, open-minded creature, who can embrace many perspectives. Because here’s the thing. None of us are completely right. None of us have all the answers. None of us can be the one true ring. But together, with all of our many lens and frames and experiences and beliefs, we create this kaleidoscope of humanity that is truly something to see, something to embrace, something to learn from.

So next time you’re feeling particularly sure about an ugly pair of glasses, maybe take a moment, practice the pause, and see what other options life has in store. You just might find the wayfarers you always dreamed of.

As a kid, I loved those stupid glasses with the bright frames and huge lens. Looking back, as an adult, I completely hate them. But that’s the beauty of growing up, we can change our minds, we can be better people, and we can learn to fully love ourselves. Freckles and all.

Blue Door

Actually, the door is gypsy teal, but "blue door" sounded better for a title. The fact that our front door has been black ever since we bought our house in 2009 is an indication of nothing really...perhaps our laziness but nothing else.

Nonetheless, the door is gypsy teal now, and the difference it made in the look of our house was quite remarkable. We painted the door after we had hardwood floors installed this weekend. Funny how doing one little improvement makes you want to do all the improvements. All at once. This motivation is sure to end. 

With the door now gypsy teal, the front porch needs a new coat of white paint...and the shutters need painting. And the whole house could use pressure-washing. Funny how one little improvement makes all the other flaws stand out. 

Over the last two years, I worked on earning my Masters degree in Higher Education Administration. In December of 2016, I finished. Basically, my life has a blue front door now. And as with the improvements to the house, I am now looking at all the flaws that I need to work on personally. 

Self-doubt is a long-time companion of mine. From time to time, she visits to remind me of those flaws, to remind me that I'm not worthy somehow. But this little swing into "who am I" and "what now" feels a little different than those in my past. It feels different because I'm different. I'm a more confident version of myself. I still care what others think but not nearly as much as before. I'm no longer defined by it. 

This time I'm able to tell myself that I am enough and that where I am in life is enough. Sure, I do have a new, blue front door, but a new door doesn't mean I need to know what my next improvement project is going to be. After all, so much of our life is spent waiting, spent looking at or to the next thing, that we sometimes seem to miss what is sitting right in front of us. 

The lovely. The mundane. The beautifully boring and deliciously ordinary. The life that needs living in our own way that isn't anyone else's way, that is perfectly imperfect and bumpy and gorgeous and awful, all at once. 

As of today, I have a blue front door. I also have a Masters Degree. But I have much more to offer the world than my house or my job. I will live and love the here and now. The future will wait and so will flaws and improvements and the crap that causes self-doubt. Blue doors are lovely but so am I.

Don't Yuck My Duck

A week ago, if you’d asked me about Duck Dynasty I would have shared my canned opinion on reality television. In fact, I’ll share it now; I hate it. The writer in me longs for old-fashioned story-telling: the kind with well-developed characters and a stimulating plot, with rising and falling action, and a setting that leaps off the screen. But this was all before I sat down last week and watched three straight hours of sweet tea swillin’, duck killin’, good ole boy shenanigans and hijinks. Now, it’s safe to say I’m a changed woman.

Duck Dynasty pleasantly surprised me. I won’t lie and say that I would have ever thought a show (which I assumed was) about a bunch of bearded guys making duck calls would be my kind of show, but life’s full of surprises. I don’t know exactly what it is that won me over. Maybe it was the way Si charms the ladies or the way the boys in the warehouse are constantly getting out of work or the way Phil delivers a line, Jack. Maybe it’s all of it. Maybe it’s refreshing to watch a show with family values and good, clean laughs. Maybe it just makes me happy, happy, happy. Whatever it is, the spell has been cast. I’m a non-believer no more.

I feel kind of bad now though. For all the times, I dismissed the show. For all the times, I crinkled up my nose when it was mentioned. For all the times, I thought, who would want to watch a show like that? It’s just another reality show, another Jersey Shore or Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Another, dare I say, Honey Boo Boo? Gasp!

But at the end of the day, what’s wrong with any of these shows? What’s wrong with reality television for that matter? Other than the fact that I just don’t happen to care for it myself. If I gave it half a chance, a chance like I gave Duck Dynasty, who knows? I might just like it after all.

I try to live life with an open mind. I would hate to miss anything in life because of my own misconceptions or stubbornness, but even in trying to do the right thing and live the right way, I often mess up. I often yuck other people’s yums.

What do I mean by yucking a yum? Well, back in March, Jeremy and I were watching television, which for us means hulu, Netflix, and lots of random web series on youTube. One of the random web series we watch is by a very insightful comedian named Ze Frank. Ze did a video on yucking yums, and since then, I’ve tried to be more aware of my interaction with others, particularly when it comes to something they love.

For some unknown reason, when we hear that someone we know is listening to a band, reading a book, doing an activity, or watching a TV show that we don’t happen to like, we jump on an opportunity to yuck their yum. We criticize them for watching something so silly, stupid, outdated, “insert your worst insult here.” Even when we know that that thing brings them great joy, we make it a point to share why we don’t think they should like it anymore. I did this every time I rolled my eyes at someone for watching Duck Dynasty.

“You don’t watch that, do you?”

Well, what if they do? Why does it matter? If the yum is harmless, what harm could possibly come from its enjoyment? Ze Frank reminds us to not steal someone else’s joy just because we might not have the same tastes, and I’m here to remind myself to not dismiss these yums quite so easily. Because someone else’s yum, which I may think of as a yuck, may eventually be my own yum and source of happy, happy, happy.