The park is has finally reopened! After a year of renovations, Alamo Square is back and better than ever. Living in Nopa, Alamo Square is right in our backyard. Well actually, this park IS our backyard (city life amirite?)
We naturally stopped by the Mill for lattes because obviously, and soaked up the sunshine with everyone else celebrating the opening.
Obviously it’s a tough life being a San Franciscan, but someone has to do it.
Here we are already, it’s Lenten season. It feels like 2017 is already flying by, and it’s brought so much chaos, fear, and some sadness to so many people. I’m lucky enough to work for City Church San Francisco where we attend church and have built a community, and I’ve been so thankful for the thoughtful conversations and the outpouring of love our church has shown to communities and religions different than our own.
I love living in a sanctuary city. It’s something I hadn’t ever thought of before, but with the current political climate we’re all in, living in a sanctuary city and doing life along side people who have all agreed to love and accept our immigrant neighbors – it feels like we’re loving people the way we’re supposed to. There’s action behind the words.
Recently we read this quote from Aaron Neiquest, and I think it sums up our role quite nicely
So how does this all tie in with Lent. I believe Lent is a time where we can re-connect with our humanity. When I’m dead, my small pile of ashes and dust won’t be any better than that of an immigrant, person of color, or refugee. Death is truly an equalizer – all our posturing and privilege is irrelevant when we take that final breath. It doesn’t matter anymore. And in reconnecting with our humanity, I believe it’s time to see the humanity of others. If human beings can connect on a human level, we no longer act out of fear, we can start acting out of love again.
It’s a big thought. It’s a life changing thought. It’s an uncomfortable thought.
The poor aren’t always easy to love. Our enemies definitely aren’t easy to love. Republicans aren’t easy to love. Democrats aren’t easy to love. There’s no easy out here. But why should there be?
That’s what I’m reflecting on today, and plan to continue working through this season. Join me?
This past week it was constantly raining – the kind of rain that lasts for days and nights and days again and it just never seems to stop. Will and I were both going stir crazy and just when I thought it would NEVER stop raining, it did. And the sun came out. And we finally got to head out to Stow Lake in Golden Gate Park to see the ducks and smell the fresh air.
He was pretty stoked about it, as you can see. The whole process of waiting and going crazy, and then the relief that came with the end made me think about what it means to be in the middle of a season that feels endless. I sometimes get this feeling that wherever I’m at, it’s always been that way and always will be. Something simple like rain – it’s always been raining and it always will be! There’s no end! Which is silly, but it can feel that way. Sometimes it’s something harder to go through. Like not getting any sleep when your baby is teething. They’ve always been waking up every couple hours, and they always will be! Send coffee reinforcements. Or feeling out of shape, like you’ve just always been there and can’t see an end in sight; an end where you fit back in the jeans now hanging in the back of your closet. Maybe it’s something even darker like depression, or the loss of something or someone important. Where does the frustration and pain end? When will the rain stop?
Maybe your season isn’t painful at all – maybe the fear that the season will end is what gives you anxiety. I get that too. I think we cling to different seasons of our lives for a number of reasons, and those reasons sometimes make a lot of sense. Maybe we see the time we’re in as the best version of ourselves, and we’re afraid of what the end might mean. Maybe we’re in the middle of something so great that the thought of it ending is just, really sad. The funny thing about seasons though is sometimes you don’t always notice the end. For better or worse, you don’t realize you weren’t in the middle the whole time at all, you were near the end, and then the end came and now you’re on to something new.
I’m not sure there’s a huge point to all this rambling, but I think I realized a few things about myself as I sat on that green bench trying to convince Will that jumping off the back of the bench wouldn’t end well. I realized I’m not very patient, but I’m working on it. I realized that saying goodbye to certain seasons of your life doesn’t mean you’re getting old, it just means you’re living. And I realized that some seasons, although they’re hard, aren’t actually in the middle. They might be closer to the end than you think.
Guys, I have to be honest. I hate the phrase “get your body back”. Specifically I hate this phrase when used to describe what postpartum women’s apparent goal is supposed to be. And I’ve even said it before! More than words, it’s been a way of thinking. Getting “back” to a certain weight. Getting “back” to a certain feeling. And it’s usually motivational, right? Like, rah rah, lets all get our bodies back! And I’m not coming at this from the viewpoint of someone who is super thin and only has to lose that last 5lbs. Haha no…this girl gained a full 40lbs being pregnant (technically 39 but who’s counting? Oh yeah, I am). So clearly there’s work that needs to be done.
But the term “get back” implies that you lost something. Or that something was stolen from you. Either way, it implies we’re somehow lacking something. But when I look at my little boy, I don’t think I’ve lost anything. I may have gained weight but I gained so much more than that. And I think I’m just tired of a society that makes us feel like in having a baby we’ve somehow lost something important. This is how I feel about that.
So in solidarity, let’s give up shitty terms that make us feel bad about ourselves. Be happy, be healthy, be well. Rock that belly, or stretch marks, or whatever else you might try and hide about your bod. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get in shape, and I think that’s an awesome goal I’m working on myself; but lets not lose sight of the fact that our bodies did something amazing and will never actually be the same. And that’s pretty cool.
…is you never talk about Mommy Club. More specifically, you never talk about HOW your own personal mommy club is running, unless you’re prepared to fight to the death. Don’t believe me? Here, I’ll prove it.
Vaccinations. Anti-vaxxers. Breastfeeding. Public breast feeding. Formula. Co-sleeping. Bed sharing. Sleep training. C-sections. All natural births. Epidurals. Screen time.
Feeling anything yet? Any passions rising or fire in your belly? Feeling like there are some “right” and “wrong” options on that list?
I know. I do too. I have BIG opinions about things. But when did we as women become so obsessed with being right that we stopped caring about each other as people? Why do we demonize each other for the sake of proving how much we know?
It makes me really sad. It used to make me angry, but I think I went through a few of the stags of grief after reading one too many comment sections and just hit sad.
I don’t know if there’s a way to fix our attitudes toward each other. I don’t want to give a big “rah rah, we can be the change” speech because we all know that already. But this is my pledge: I won’t add to the problem. I promise to value people over their choices, even if I don’t always agree. On mom stuff, but also in life. Aren’t people what matter?