So it’s important…

“Don’t give anything so much significance that if it doesn’t go well it destroys you, or invalidates who you are.”

When I was in my 20s…and 30s…and maybe a little in my 40s….it was very important tobirthdaycake-R6noC1o5Vnp61fOlQCj9sZI-680x383 me that things were celebrated on the right day. If my birthday was on Tuesday, I wanted to celebrate on Tuesday. If an anniversary was on a Thursday, I wanted to celebrate on Thursday.  I didn’t want to celebrate on the weekend, which would have been easier and given us more time. It needed to be on the exact day of the significant event.

Then, a few years ago, I stopped. My family of 6, had turned into a family of 17. My children had become parents and in-laws and step parents. There were A LOT of people that wanted to see my people on holidays. This resulted in my kids being overwhelmed every holiday, trying to get to 4 or 5 “celebrations” and not enjoying any of them. In addition, I only got them for a short time each holiday before they had to head to their next destination.  I decided that we needed to change something, so we did.

This year my family of 6 is a family of 20! We celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve. I get more time with my people and they get to enjoy our family time.  I stopped giving the day on the calendar significance, and instead, I have started placing the significance on the time with my family, whenever that gets to occur. This year we are moving our family Thanksgiving celebration to the Saturday after.

SignificanceThis caused me to begin thinking about the importance of, well anything really. A day, an event, a person, etc. all only have the amount of significance that we choose to assign to them. We’ve all been in love and assigned that person top priority in our life, only to break up and that person now has little or no significance in our life.

Do you see what I’m saying? Any day, is just a day, until you decide it’s more to you. Any person is just a person, until you decide they are more to you. Any event is nothing, until you decide it isn’t. I was talking with someone recently who had worked for months to do well on an assessment that could result in a promotion. They told me that if they fail, all their self-esteem would fall to nothing, and they didn’t know if they could recover. They were thinking of quitting, to avoid the possibility of failure. I told them, “Don’t give this one event the power to invalidate everything you have accomplished.” Don’t give anything so much significance that if it doesn’t go well it destroys you, or invalidates who you are. Not a wedding, not a holiday, no test, no interview, no person. You choose how much power you assign to anything in your life.

What are you giving significance to? You can choose. Do you need to examine the things you hold so tightly (rigidly) and see if the significance is misplaced? Is there something  that you fear failing at because you think that means YOU are a failure? It doesn’t.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

 

So I’m welcome…

“Maybe that’s what I was missing when I was lonely. A deep acceptance of my presence by someone.”

Have you ever felt lonely? I have. I’ve felt lonely when I was alone and lonely when I was with hundreds of people. Loneliness can be deep in your heart or it can be a momentary missing of someone. The dictionary definition of lonely is: sadness because one has no friends or company. From my experience with loneliness, I don’t feel like this definition is very accurate. I had friends, I even had company, and yet I still felt lonely. How then can we define loneliness more accurately?

I asked those who follow my facebook (Jules Kilson, LPC) to help me with a better definition. Here’s what some of you said:

“A feeling of isolation regardless of how many people you are around.” LH

“Not having someone to closely connect with.” PK

“A deficiency of human contact.” JK

“A void that seemingly cannot be filled, no matter who you’re surrounded by or the environment in which you live.” EK

“Walking into my empty house and going without human interaction.” LC

“A self-induced social hiatus.” KH

Feeling of isolation, lack of connection, lack of contact and interaction, a void, a social hiatus. I asked the author of the last one if that is refreshing or lonely, and they said both. In our culture, we can get overwhelmed with being constantly connected to others

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electronically. But, we are made to be in community. We desire connections and interactions. When we are deprived of these things, voluntarily or not, we are lonely.

I think that we desire authentic connection. We desire to be truly known and accepted by someone else. We desire interactions that are genuine and intentional. Interactions that are specific to us. We desire physical, emotional, spiritual, intellectual contact with others that is deep and meaningful.

Both times I was in Africa, I was so impressed by a small gesture that is a part of their culture. When you enter, someone says,”You are welcome.” At first, I thought I was being chastised for not saying thank you for something. When was the last time you were told you were welcome somewhere? It feels good to the recipient. It felt good to walk into my office and have my friend Mgbechi tell me I was welcome with her, or my friend Michael say I was welcome in the car with him, or my friend Destiny say I was welcome in the kitchen while she was cooking. It made me feel noticed when my friend Rose in Uganda would say I was welcome on the patio with her. I knew they didn’t mind if I shared the space, but to hear them say it to me was a deeper acceptance of my presence.

Maybe that’s what I was missing when I was lonely. A deep acceptance of my presence by someone. Authentic connection, genuine, intentional interactions that were specific to me. Contact that was deeper than the surface and meaningful. Now that we figured that out, what can we do to manifest that in our lives and in the lives of others? How can we create connections, interactions and contacts that fill that void? I believe we can look at these things we have identified and see what is missing for us. Maybe we are scared. Maybe we are scarred. Maybe we are cautious. Maybe we can just start by saying “you are welcome” to someone else.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

So I see you…

I just returned from a trip to Nigeria. It was my second trip to Africa. I love Africa. For so many reasons.

The African culture is a collectivist society. This means they emphasize family, and group goals, over individual needs and desires. In collectivism, social rules focus on promoting selflessness and putting community needs above the individual’s needs. Working as a group and supporting others is the societal and personal norm. People are considered “good” if they are generous, helpful, dependable and attentive to the needs of others. America, in contrast, is an individualistic culture. We often place assertiveness and independence above the needs of the family and/or community.

Either of these, if taken to the extreme, can be dysfunctional. But, when kept in balance, I enjoy the collectivist culture. There’s an African proverb that goes like this: A basket of fruit was placed under a tree. A group of children were put on the starting line and told that the child that reaches the basket first, gets all the fruit. The “go” signal was given, and the children all joined hands and ran to the basket together and shared it.

Greetings are important in Africa. Before asking anything from someone, or conducting business, you recognize that person as an individual. You are asked things like, “How was your night?”, “How is your family?”, “How are your crops?”. Greetings can take a few minutes, or quite some time. In the market, before asking a price, you greet: “Hello sir. Hello ma’am. How are you today? I’m well thank you, how are you? I’m well thank you. How is business today? It’s slow because of the rain ma’am.” This promotes the idea of being part of a group, and not simply individuals going about their day. We are all connected, and therefore, I have a desire to begin our interaction by connecting to you.

Even after a short greeting like this, I’m then free to ask a price and begin bartering. It would be rude to walk up to a shop and ask the price of an item without noticing the keeper as an individual first. I like this noticing part. How often do you feel noticed? How often do you interact with someone, with the goal of getting information or a service from them, without taking the time to recognize them as a person and not simply a means to getting what you want?

This idea of indirectly saying, “I see you.” is powerful. This idea of taking a moment to let someone know they have value as a person, above their ability to satisfy your need, is powerful. This idea of intentionally connecting is powerful. Every relationship you have, every interaction with a stranger, every conversation in your day, will all benefit from this simple idea of noticing.

Try it out and let me know the responses you get!

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

So I’m impatient…

I’ve always thought of myself as a patient person. I’m rarely one to give in to road rage, or growling at customer service, or eye rolling when my line isn’t going fast enough. I enjoy cooking dinners with multiple steps that take longer to cook than to eat, I’m delighted to fantasize with my g’babies for hours about the clouds or the stars or fairies. When my clients are needing to move slowly, I can easily empathize and feel no need to set the pace. However, there is one area that I’m especially impatient. I like to see the results of my work.

This immediate gratification comes in many of the things I really love doing. Painting a room or writing a story. Cleaning the kitchen (actually that’s my least favorite chore, but I see immediate results). Many DIY home and landscaping projects reward me with an immediate satisfaction for what I’ve done. Perhaps that’s why I gravitate towards the activities that I choose. But, none give me as much pleasure and instant gratification as mowing my lawn.

My yard is 5 acres. It’s beautiful and park-like. And when it’s not mowed, it’s a daunting visual, but when it’s mowed it’s lovely. The mowing part itself is easy because I just ride around on my little machine and get some sun. But, the satisfaction of looking back over the strip I’ve previously mowed, compared to the next one, is strangely satisfying to me.

When my four children were little, as soon as I cleaned a room, they un-cleaned it. As soon as I cleaned the bathroom, someone took a shower or missed the toilet. As soon as I cleaned the kitchen, another meal for six had to be made. I don’t think I ever actually got all the laundry done in those years. No one un-mows my yard behind me.

I can put on my headphones and be in silence with my thoughts. No one is going to interrupt me, or invade my head space. It’s time to me alone, to let my thoughts wander and ponder and go into places that wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. It’s four hours of time to think as I want, listen to music that I want or let my mind meander. That’s not something I get often.

There is something deeply satisfying, to look back on a section of yard and see the immediate change and know it was a result of my willingness to spend my time doing what needs to be done. I like working out. Biking, walking, kayaking, hiking, swimming, but there’s no immediate result I can see. I can feel good about it, but there’s something about the visual of the grass being tall and then being mowed that is powerful to me.

Often, when I’m frustrated with a task, I find it’s because I can’t tell any difference. There is no apparent change. Do you ever feel that way? This is a growth area for me. The long term value of staying with something to get eventual desired results is well worth it. All my schooling, my 31 year marriage, raising my children, planting new little trees that won’t mature for 10 years, all valuable. I focused on the outcome, not the immediate.  Our culture says if there is not a desirable, immediate outcome, move on. That’s not the way to live a successful, joyful, satisfying life. Good things take work and time and commitment. There are times when we need to stop and assess and make a change, but be patient and work at it. Give it time. Learn all you can from the experience.

So while I work on being patient and looking at the big picture, I’ll keep getting immediate gratification from my mowing.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

 

So I’m faulty…

“… it’s like having a camera and ignoring it. Seeing obstacles but backing out anyway, running things over.”

“He’s never going to change. I’ve told him over and over what he is doing is killing our marriage, but he refuses to see any of his faults.”

“I can’t keep a job more than a few months. I get fired over stupid things. Bosses just want us all to conform. Who can work in an environment where you can’t be yourself?”

Is it possible that we have faults we can’t see? Faults that others recognize and bring to our attention, but we refuse to see? And if we changed, or even worked on these faults, could we save a friendship, a job, a marriage or a family tie?

In a recent post, I talked about worth. That if we are rejected, whether it be personal, professional, or romantic, it doesn’t diminish our worth. That is true. It does not however, mean that we are not at fault ever. Part of accepting ourselves is looking honestly at our whole being, good and bad. And just because we accept our faults, that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t work on those things to make them better. Especially if they are continually being brought to our attention and affecting our relationships.

In 1955, two psychologists, Joseph Lutz and Harrington Ingham, came up with a technique called the Johari Window. (Joseph + Harrington = Johari). The Johari Window has four panes: one is the part of ourselves that we and others see; one contains aspects that others see but we are unaware of; one is the private space we know but hide from others; one is the unconscious part of us that neither ourselves nor others see. Let’s put a pin in that for now.

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I drive a Challenger. It’s my dream car. I waited all through undergrad and grad school, got a job and worked there for two years, before I bought my car. My car is everything I wanted it to be. I only have one complaint, it has a terrible blind spot. The way the back windows are made, you can’t see when you back out. I usually have to back out slowly and hope for the best. That’s scary. When I can, I find a space I can pull through so I can avoid backing up. It’s really a hazard. I’m seriously contemplating getting a back up camera to help me out.

Okay, let’s go back to the window. The Johari window can help us with a number of things, but let’s focus on that pane that others see and we don’t. This could be filled with all kinds of positive adjectives that others see in us and we don’t recognize in ourselves. It can also be filled with negative adjectives that others see in us and we don’t recognize in ourselves. We have blind spots. Things in our lives that we can’t see. It’s a hazard to our relationships, no matter what the type.

The people in our lives are the back up cameras. They are trying to help us out. If I get a camera and never turn it on or ignore it, what help is that? If you never consider what others are telling you, or examine it to see if it is true, it’s like having a camera and ignoring it. Seeing obstacles but backing out anyway, running things over. You can choose that. It’s an option. But, it’s a reckless way to live your life. A destructive way that will end in you being alone. You can also choose to change, or get help changing if you don’t know how. Don’t let your pride keep you from your best life.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

So I’m shifting…

It’s been a little over 8 months since my dad died. I’m still figuring my grief out.  This week has been a struggle. It happens. This morning I’m coming out of a four day funk that was really hard. But, today seems better. If you’ve lost someone you love, you know. I wrote my feelings. Maybe the words will resonate with some of you.

grief

At first, my grief made me feel as though I was adrift in a dark ocean.  Tossed about, at the mercy of the waves. One day, I realized I had washed upon the shore. Laying on my belly, exhausted, but on the ground in the light. Still later, I found myself standing, but the sand under my feet was shifting and not predictable. Recently, I felt as though I found my footing. Sand that is mostly packed, that holds me steady as I go through the day. But, it’s still sand. Some days, with unpredictability, the sand under my feet shifts. I’m unsteady, tentatively taking steps to see if I sink. Some days I can’t. It’s too much work. So I stay still. And then, just like that, I stand again, unfounded confidence urging me to move forward. I accept the cycle.  Right now I can’t imagine that solid ground is an option. Then again, at one point I didn’t imagine that sand was an option to being tossed in the waves. So I’ll keep moving forward. Allowing myself kindness and compassion for the unsteady days. Enjoying the sun on my skin, and the feeling of the water washing over my toes. Knowing he loved to see me smile.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

So….I’m valuable.

If they have no perceived power over our value, then we no longer have the need to beg, coerce, manipulate, or perform for them.

I pulled a crisp new twenty dollar bill from my wallet. She watched me quietly. “How much is this worth?” I asked. “Twenty dollars.” she replied. I crumpled it up in my hand. “How much is this worth?” I asked again. “Still twenty dollars.” she said with a quizzical look. I threw it on the floor and enthusiastically stomped on it. “How much now?”. “Still twenty.” she20.jpg smiled this time knowing where I was going. I took the twenty and carefully straightened it out. “It’s a little bit weathered now, from all the mistreatment, but it’s value is still the same. This is you.” I held out the twenty with the wrinkles and creases. She teared up. “You are so valuable. You hold so much worth. And yes, some people in your life haven’t recognized that. Some people have crumpled you up and stomped on you. But it didn’t change your worth. It didn’t change your value. It says more about them then it says about you.” We sat in silence while she contemplated my illustration. She cried quietly. I waited silently, giving her space to experience her emotions. “No one has ever told me that.” she said. “I always thought that if someone rejected me it meant there is something wrong with me.” She sat quietly again. Then she whispered, “But it doesn’t have to does it?” I smiled as I could see her rolling new thoughts around, trying them on like a new outfit, turning this way and that as she formed an opinion on them.

When we let the opinions of others form our opinion of our self, we are in danger of our value being determined by the acceptance or rejection they give us. There is internal validation and external validation. Internal validation come from inside us. It’s our own knowledge of who we are, good and bad, and our acceptance of that. External validation comes from outside of us. It’s the opinions of others based on our looks, our opinions, our performance, our actions, etc. We are a culture of judges. We feel we have the right to judge others constantly. I do it. I comment on people on TV, on their actions, their outfits, their opinions. Isn’t that the point of reality TV? To make us all judges? I don’t do it as often in real life. I’m pretty okay with letting others be who they are, but it’s not always easy. As a friend once told me, “I’m aware of my faults and I’m working on them.”

We all want positive external validation. It’s human nature. An acknowledgement of our effort, a compliment on our looks, a respect for our opinion, appreciation of our work. It feels really good. But what if we don’t receive it? Or even worse, what if we are rejected? I’ve been rejected. It hurts. It can make us question ourselves. It can make us lose our confidence. It can make us feel worthless and fragile. But it doesn’t have to does it?

If you can do the work to honestly know who you are, not the you meeting others expectations, not the you on social media, not the you that’s your front, but the authentic you. with all your imperfections and quirks and awesome qualities. If you do the workmirror.gif and face who you are, and become friends with that you, and accept yourself completely, no one can make you feel worthless again. Your value is then based on your internal validation. If external validation comes, YAY! soak it in, delight in the feeling. But, if no validation comes, or rejection comes, you will know that you are still the same person, and that rejection takes nothing away from who you are. It still hurts, but it doesn’t destroy.  You’ll be a bit more weathered from all the mistreatment, but your value will remain the same.

Once we are able to accept who we are, we can let others be who they are. We no longer need others to agree with us, because it’s no threat to our worth if they don’t. It frees us up to experience others in a new way, not needing anything from them. If they have no perceived power over our value, then we no longer have the need to beg, coerce, manipulate, or perform for them. We can enjoy others with no fear.  And that is a beautiful way to live your life.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

So I’m loved…

“I often write about things that keep coming up in sessions. It seems like a lot of hurting people (all of us, right?) need to hear that they are precious and treasured and unconditionally loved.”

He looked at me with tears in his eyes. “Jules, I’m trying to wrap my head around that.” He said he had always known it, but never felt it. We joked about the great distance it is between our head and our heart. Literally only about 12 inches, but a great distance exists between knowing something is true in your brain, and knowing it is true in your heart. He said he has always been good at the head part, but not so great at the heart part. He admitted that working on the heart part is not historically in his comfort zone, but he’s starting to warm up to it.

What I had told him was that God loves him. Not because of anything he has done, but just because he is His. This idea of unconditional love. The idea that you are loved not for your performance, not for your behavior, not for any reason other than you are created by God and He loves you. This was mind blowing. Heart breaking in the best sense.

You don’t believe in God? Ok. He still loves you. You don’t acknowledge God? Romans 829
Ok. He still loves you. You have done a thousand terrible things? Ok. He still loves you. You struggle with your faith? Ok. He still loves you. You can’t escape it. You can’t make it go away. You can’t make Him stop.

He won’t force it on anyone. It’s there. Freely for you to have. But, it’s always your choice. Even if you don’t accept it, He still loves you.

I always told my kids, “I don’t love you because you are smart, or funny or kind, even though you are those things, I love you just because you are mine.” There is nothing my kids can do to make me stop loving them. They could reject me, disown me, stop acknowledging me, and it would break my heart. But, guess what? I would still love them. That’s my choice, not theirs.

And, if I, a simple, flawed, imperfect human can love like that, just imagine how much more God can love. How perfectly and purely and wholly God can love. It’s not about religion, it’s about relationship.

not so powerfulI often write about things that keep coming up in sessions. It seems like a lot of hurting people (all of us, right?) need to hear that they are precious and treasured and unconditionally loved. When that moves from your head to your heart…that’s powerful stuff. It’s overwhelming. To feel and know in your heart that you are loved despite your mistakes, despite your unbelief, despite…well, anything.  Sit back and immerse yourself in that love. Rest in that love and let it fill you with a peace that you are searching for. Sink into that love and find acceptance.  Snuggle into that love and stop struggling.

It’s here. It’s happening right now. You are being loved. You are being pursued. As you read this you are being treasured and prized and adored. It’s here. That’s His choice. Can you accept it? That’s your choice.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

 

 

So I’m in stitches…

“We are all pieced together, aren’t we? Made with scraps of material we have gotten from every person that has influenced us in some way. “

I have three quilts in my life that mean something to me. One was made by my mom’s grandmother, whom I never met.

One was made by my dad’s

mom, whom I only have one memory of because I was so young when she died.

The third was made by my husband’s grandmother, who was the only grandmother I had as an adult, and who has since passed away.

The first two I treasure because my parents treasured the people that made them. I’m honored that I was chosen to be the guardian of these family heirlooms. I love telling my kids and grand kids who labored over these stitches and that they are a part of this family. I had a breakfast picnic with pink waffles on quilt number one with g/baby #6 on Saturday, and reminded her dad that his great great grandmother made the quilt we sat on. The third quilt I treasure because Granny made it just for me. She asked what colors I wanted her to use, and what pattern I wanted her to make. All the quilts were made with skill and love, but my quilt was made with me in mind specifically.

I made a quilt once. A crib size quilt for g’baby #1. I labored over the decision of what fabrics and colors went together. I didn’t just ask people for scraps of whatever they had, and throw them together randomly. I chose a pattern after hours of looking. Then changed my mind many times, which caused me to rethink my fabrics and the way they interacted.

We are all pieced together, aren’t we? Made with scraps of material we have gotten from every person that has influenced us in some way. People we have met, people we have admired, people we have only read about or writings of, people we have loved, people that have invested in us, those that have hurt us….we are all quilts, held together with stitches.

We gathered large pieces of material from some, small pieces from others, sometimes wishing we could have more of a particular favorite fabric that is no longer available. We took from some people a lot of material and didn’t like it so we threw most of it away, maybe a stubborn scrap stayed in our quilt that we can’t quite bring ourselves to throw out. The pieces are unique, oddly shaped, mismatched. The stitches probably aren’t all even. Some long, some short, some loose.

You have choices. Just because someone gave you material doesn’t mean you have to keep it. You can choose the pattern. You can choose the pieces that fit the pattern you are wanting to create. You can customize your quilt. You can choose to only accept fabric from those that understand the pattern. If bitterness isn’t in your pattern, you can let go of it. If fear and insecurity aren’t fabrics you want to incorporate, you can choose something else. If love is in your pattern, you can make as many pieces as you want. If self-acceptance and forgiveness are in your pattern, you can create that fabric.

If your life is a quilt, personalize it. Get rid of the pieces that don’t make sense to you anymore. Take out the fabrics that aren’t helping you create the pattern that you want. If you don’t know how, ask for help. No one has to understand or approve of your pattern. Create a beautiful life, one piece at a time.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

So I’m…a mom

“Mamas worry about everything all year. Mamas worry more at Christmas time.”

(Disclaimer…I know there are lots of daddies that show up as well, but only having experience of a mama, I speak from that. If you are a daddy and this applies to you, share it with your daddy friends.)

My son surprised me. He likes to do this. He said he wasn’t coming home for Christmas and I have been cursing the Army for a month for keeping both my boys from me. Thursday morning the doorbell rang and there he was, with his wife and kids, and I was totally confused. I was thrilled, but so confused. He showed up and all my sadness was gone. Those sweet baby kisses came, and I forgot all the days I had cried over them not coming home.

This post is for all you mamas who are especially busy this time of year. All of you who feel mommy guilt for not getting it all done. The ones worrying about not getting every teacher a gift, and decorating cookies with the kids like Pinterest. For all of you who are lucky to get all the gifts wrapped, let alone put bows and tags on them. For all of you that worry your kid will be scarred for life because you didn’t watch Christmas movies in matching jammies and write letters to Santa.

You worry about getting the presents they want, making the money work, getting to the programs at school and church. You go to the store with toddlers and babies to buy gifts, because finding a babysitter costs too much. You have to remember a million things, and then your second grader says they need a reindeer headband the next morning at school.

Mamas worry about everything all year. Mamas worry more at Christmas time. So many celebrations, so many places to take the kids and get them off their schedules. So many opportunities to feed into our mama insecurities.  I know. I was you. I remember.

You’ve never heard what I’m going to say. I’m going to tell you what Christmas is about. It’s about God showing up. It’s about God saying “I’m coming to you.” and then showing up. That tiny baby in the manger was God, choosing to be human, choosing to depend on humans for his life, choosing to experience all we humans experience, because of his love for us. He’s a great father.

Mamas, hear what I’m saying to you. Kids know who shows up. They know who is there every single day, listening, reading their favorite book for the 36th time, feeding them, taking them places, kissing boo-boos and healing broken hearts. Laughing and celebrating and having impromptu dance parties. They may be disappointed Christmas day if they don’t get the toy on the top of the list, but you show up every day, and that makes all the difference.  You show up. You’re a great mama. You show up, out of your love for your children, just like God.

Be kind to yourself this season. Give yourself credit for showing up the other 364 days, and don’t put so much pressure on yourself to make this one day perfect. Because it won’t be. Do what you can, and enjoy the time with your family. My 85 year old mom tells me often “The days go slow, but the years go fast. Enjoy your moments.” Merry Christmas mama❤

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules