From Slackers to Loners

It's true, I have become a blogging slacker.

I think I got a little overly satiated with all the writing when I was actively working on a book - something I am still interested in doing, but don't feel called to do right this moment.

Over the past 3 years I have seen a REAL trend toward slackerhood in both my own kids and their friends. Seemed that the smallest hurdle would cause them to just pack it in and try something else. I wondered if a lot of that was because of what happened when we moved here, a long healing period after the upheaval of leaving Lafayette.

The most amazing thing has happened, though, in the past couple of months: an awakening of sorts- a call to what could be- and people willing to answer that call.

Someone once chastized me because I don't think about all the reasons something can't work. I am certainly not some sort of magician and just think things into being, but I don't talk myself out of them either.

So what if I try something and it doesn't work- at least I gave it my all and now I know. Education is in fact, expensive. Both in learning about what you want to be when you grow up and in learning about people. I like the idea of dreaming something - thinking about how to make it work and then trying it out.

And the kids have started this same mindset. It is wonderful to watch.

When my great grandfather lived in Logansport, they ran a building and lumber company - Loner Lumber. That site is now Ivy Tech in Logan, and it still seems like hallowed ground to me. My father and his siblings are all college grads - something not every man and woman was in the 60s and 70s. A pretty impressive accomplishment for my grandparents to have 8 kids who were all professionals. But I digress. My father and his brothers worked at Loner Lumber when they were younger- planing boards, cutting wood, pounding nails and building lots of Logan houses. It was good honest work and I think it greatly influenced my dad's work ethic.

I remember growing up that my father would say that any job we did should be something we were proud to put our names on - that we would always be known by our work. I hated rewashing dishes or refolding towels- but the truth of the matter is that he was right.

And so it came to pass that my daughter and son were looking for work in a poopy economy and found someone looking for a crew to do construction and renovations on a foreclosed house. They took the challenge.

It would be one thing to say there was a conversion based on what I was told, but it is a whole other thing to see kids who have been floundering now elbow-deep in plaster and paint and wood screws. They really rose to the challenge, and like my dad, found self-worth in seeing the fruits of their labor. Now we also learned a valuable lesson about trusting people on Craigslist - they never received the remainder of their pay- but they did the work and what they came away with was more valuable than money.

Construction has been put away for the time-being, except for the little repairs we need at our own house and the odd jobs the kids get from friends. But the transformation has stayed.

I finally see- after nearly 6 years - the kids I had before we had to leave Indiana. They are confident and fun and industrious and best of all - enrolled back in school and getting on with their lives.

No Woman No Cry

When I was in high school, my friend John Shepley introduced me to Bob Marley. It was intoxicating: the rhythm, the feeling that I was dabbling in some black magic, the secret truths and the ganja- well everyting about Bob Marley smacked of liberation. Appropriately enough.

Tonight at the pub, he was playing over the loudspeakers and I heard his truth again:
My fear is my only courage.

Think about that for a minute.

In my current situation, my fear of repeating my same mistakes, my fear of facing the day where I will say: what if I had given more of myself, my fear of slipping into a jaded existance have all motivated me to have the courage to forge a path that I have not forged before.

I find myself stopping- reconsidering, thinking through things - in ways I have not done before.
It is refreshing - and when my love says: slow down and tell me what you need to say. I'm not going anywhere - I want to understand what you are saying.... I feel beautiful and valuable and well, I feel ways I have not felt before.

There has been passion before- the electricity and chemistry which as I have grown older, I realize is more infatuation and lust than actual love. I like passion, don't get me wrong, but it can get in the way of actually SEEING the person before you as a person, not just an illusion-filled object of your affection.

This is something smoldering. You know how a banked fire keeps the embers lit and warm overnight, offering the assurance of continued fire tomorrow? That is what this feels like.

It has been over 20 years since the man I was with was a grown-up: someone able and willing to take care of himself and his needs while protecting and providing for me. I've been waiting a long time, and whether this is permanent or just for now, I have decided to let my fear boost my courage and go down this new path.

No crying is nice for a change.