Perfectionism

I'm a perfectionist. Recovering perfectionist to be exact. I like things to be perfect. I want to be the perfect mother. The perfect wife. The perfect friend. What's so wrong with that? A lot, actually. By expecting perfection out of myself, I wasn't allowing myself to show up, be vulnerable, and risk failure.

As I've been working on letting go of my perfectionist tendencies, I have felt so much freedom!

Christmas doesn't have to be perfect to be special.

My kids don't have to be overjoyed with their Christmas gifts (at least one of them is going to be disappointed, no doubt). It can still be a special day.

I don't have to be the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect friend, or the perfect writer to make a contribution to the world. My family is learning oodles and oodles from my flaws as well as my strengths. And so am I.

So for now, when I feel the perfectionism start to creep in, I tell myself that good is good enough.

Growth Mindset

My children attend a K-8 school here in our tiny rural town in Maine. I love our little school. The principal, the teachers, the parents, and the support staff are all so caring and hard working. This year, the school is focusing on fostering a growth mindset among the students. If you haven't read Carol Dweck's book yet, you really should. It's on my nightstand right now and I'm having a boatload of ah-ha moments in every chapter! 

I have seen how, just in the last few months, my older children have slowly been opening up to the idea of a growth mindset. See this illustration from Dartmouth in case you haven't read the book:

I think it was best described this way: Growth Mindset says "I made a mistake," whereas the Fixed Mindset says, "I am a mistake."

Dweck said this about failure: "When people believe their basic qualities can be developed, failures may still hurt, but failures don't define them. And if abilities can be expanded---if change and growth are possible'''then there are still many paths to success."

Most people aren't a simple one or the other. All of us have fixed mindsets in certain parts of our lives and growth mindsets in others. "I'm not good at math...I've never been an artist...I'll never lose weight...I'm not good at setting goals...I'm just not a patient person..."

Where might a fixed mindset be holding you back?

Braving the Wilderness

I recently listened to Brene Brown's new book, Braving the Wilderness. There were two concepts that she discussed which really resonated with me:

1. People are hard to hate close up. What does that even mean? It means that the more you know some one's story, the less-likely you are to make snap judgments about their decisions and life choices. I have seen this happen over and over in my own life. I believe I know everything I need to know about someone and how I think they should best live their life. Because didn't you know? I'm an expert at telling other people how to live their lives. Just sayin'. And then I get to know them better. And I always seem to come to the same conclusion: People are doing the best they can. They really are. Even if their best is really terrible, I choose to believe that they are doing all they can because it is a more peaceful way for me to live my life. I've found that judging others doesn't feel very good. So I try not to do it. It's for selfish reasons, really. I'm a super fan of feeling good.

2. Don't look for evidence that you don't fit in. You will always find it. This concept smacked me in the face when I heard it. I had been searching for evidence that I didn't belong for a long time in a certain area in my life. And I was finding it! So many reasons why I didn't belong! I even convinced others with my case--"Guess what happened today?...Can you believe it?...I just don't fit in here..." But guess what? It wasn't serving me well at all. I've since decided that I that I am instead going to look for all the ways in which I fit in in this part of my life. And wouldn't you know, I'm finding it around every corner. It is such a happier way to live life.

Food as Fuel

I'm pretty sure Julia Childs would love me. She gets credit for saying,

"People who love to eat are always the best kind of people." 

Amen, Julia. If you know me at all, you know that I LOVE food. So much. So very much. I mean, I'm a Roundy, it's in my DNA. It's my love language. It's how I show love, how I feel loved, and something I love to think about.

But here's the thing. I recently was introduced to the concept that food is just fuel for your body. That's it. It's purpose isn't to entertain us, make us feel better, or take away our problems. The only problem food solves is hunger. Brooke Castillo taught me that.

But what kind of a drab life would it be if I only ate food to fuel my body? How boring is that?

Not boring at all, it turns out. I've actually been putting this to the test lately in my life, and when I focus on eating foods that fuel my body (read:it usually doesn't come in a wrapper and it's not made with a bunch of powdery white stuff unless that white stuff is cauliflower), and I only eat food when I'm hungry, it frees up so much space in my brain to think about so many other things that I'm interested in. It is slowly helping me be more of an active player in my own life. Imagine that! I'm noticing that I'm noticing my kids more. Like how Nathan scrunches up his nose when he's building with magnatiles, or how Maddie picks up on little nuances from her favorite tv show, Studio C.

When I eat this way, I notice that I don't think so much about what I shouldn't eat (because I have set some clear guidelines for myself about what foods best fuel my body that I should eat, and I plan in advance to have those foods available to me).

When I do choose to eat foods that aren't good fuel, I try make that decision at least 24 hours in advance so I'm not a victim to the ice cream at the back of the freezer after the kids go to bed (unless I've planned it in advance, of course). For example, at the Christmas party this weekend I'm totally having a piece of cheesecake. Done. Planned. Then on that night, I go to the party with a plan (which includes a piece of cheesecake, but not eating the entire bread basket).

Instead of telling myself, "I deserve to eat whatever I want at the Christmas party--hello! It's Christmas!" I have been telling myself things like, "You know what I really deserve? To feel good. To have a healthy body. To not have a food hangover the day after the party because I ate a bunch of junk."

I still love food, but I'm learning to love it because it keeps me alive and healthy, not because it entertains me and not because it softens the blow of a bad day.

Give it a try. Eat only foods that fuel your body and watch to see how much joy you can find outside of food. You'll feel better and you just might find your REAL passion.

It's not easy, but it's really simple. I bet you'll love it (once you stop hating it, of course).

When Joseph Went to Bethlehem

Grandma Ruth is my children's only living great grandparent. She is a pretty special lady. Whenever we call her, she is positive and upbeat and so very gracious. I felt prompted to call her several times over the past week, and yesterday on the way home from preparing for a Christmas party at our church, I picked up the phone and dialed her number. It was after she told me the following story that I realized why I had felt prompted to call her. It was for me. And for the women in my little church congregation here in rural Maine. Her story needed to be shared with them. And today, with her permission, I want to share it with you as well:

It was the Christmas of 1960 when Grandma Ruth opened the mailbox and found a copy of The Friend magazine. Inside was a poem, written by a Methodist woman, entitled, "When Joseph Went to Bethlehem." The poem was so beautiful that she cut it out of the magazine and read it to her five young children, the oldest just 7 years old (and my future Father-in-law). She loved it so much that she convinced Lynn (or Papa Payne, as I now call him) to memorize it and read it during a primary talk he gave in church. At the time, she and Grandpa Reed were living in Pennsylvania and were, as she put it, "poor as church mice." Every Christmastime for the next several years, she would pull out this sweet poem and read it with her family. In 1966, when they were just slightly less poor than church mice, Grandpa bought a big upright piano. He was a very gifted pianist and musician. That same year at Christmastime, when Grandma pulled out the poem, Grandpa Reed declared, "This poem needs music." Forty-five minutes later he had composed a tune that they sang together as a family. Grandma encouraged him to write it down, which he did. It was later given to a friend of his who sat on the General Primary Board of the LDS church.

A few years later, once again at Christmastime, Grandma Ruth opened the December addition of The Friend Magazine to find that "When Joseph Went to Bethlehem" had been published in it, this time as a song with the music that Grandpa wrote. It was later published in the Children's Songbook for the LDS church and eventually in the Liahona Magazine.

By the time Grandpa Reed had passed away, his gentle song had been translated into 45 languages.  It was said at his funeral that "Children across the world in Kiribati, who sleep on palm leaves for a bed and have never owned a pair of shoes, sing 'When Joseph Went to Bethlehem' at Christmastime."

Ruth and Reed were never able to track down Bessie Spencer, the author of the original poem, but I like to think that Grandpa and her have had a chance to meet now and that they sing their song together at Christmas with the angels of heaven. Grandma told me that when Grandpa wrote the music, he wanted the tune to convey the cadence of the donkey being guided by Joseph while carrying Mary and her unborn child to Bethlehem. If you listen to it, you really can picture it. Not much is known about the humble carpenter who was chosen to be the foster father of the Savior of the world, but hearing this story and listening to Grandpa's song helps me feel a quiet reverence for what he must have endured and for his gentle heart.

Now when I sing this song, I will think about how small things can really touch people in a big way, whether it's reading a poem from a magazine with your family at Christmastime, or taking 45 minutes to share your talent with those you love most by writing a song, or by simply helping your neighbor. That is how we can light the world. One small act of kindness and love at a time.

When Joseph Went to Bethlehem

When Joseph went to Bethlehem I think he took great care
To place his tools and close his shop and leave no shavings there.
He urged the donkey forward, then, with Mary on its back,
And carried bread and goat cheese in a little linen sack.

I think there at the busy inn that he was meek and mild
And awed to be the guardian of Mary’s sacred child.
Perhaps all through the chilly hours he smoothed the swaddling bands,
And Jesus felt the quiet strength of Joseph’s gentle hands.

And close beside the manger bed he dimmed the lantern’s light,
And held the little Jesus close upon that holy night.

Link to a video of music/lyrics here.

Grandma Ruth and the kids (Summer 2017).