Lists

She asked me to tell her what my strengths are, and I started to cry, not because I don't think I have any, but because - I don't know - the exercise of listing my strengths provides such a juxtaposition to the way I've felt so often that I am overwhelmed with emotion. But I collected myself, and I said something like this:

I am compassionate. I have a good sense of humor. I am emotional, which I usually think is a good thing (as I thought about this later, I think that my strength is actually more the fact that I'm emotionally open). I am intelligent. I am fairly articulate. I am creative. I am loving and nurturing. I am kind.

And then, after a pause and a quick laugh: And I'm a good driver.

And what, she asked, did I want or need help me with? I want to be less fragile (more elastic). I want to believe, more often, that everything will be ok. I want to be confident about my own value, about my strengths. I want to feel good enough to have the motivation to do the things that I know will make me feel better but which I can't seem to get the energy (or caring) to do when I am feeling bad. I want to feel more in control of my daily schedule, to create more weekly/daily routines. I want to figure out what I want to do with my life.

We talked about the move to Fort Wayne, and what I miss most about Chicago: the variety, the amazing vast differences, the ability to explore my own city (especially with my camera) because there is always something to see, taste, listen to or experience that I've never experienced before.

She asked me what has brought me joy since moving to Fort Wayne, and I said that I had gotten a lot of joy from living in this house, with its fenced in back yard and blooming flowers and central air and two toilets and three bedrooms and the fact that I can go down to the basement to do laundry even when I'm in my nightgown, because I won't run into any neighbors. "And the girls," I said, "and Geoff."

I have been thinking more about what has brought me joy in the past few years. Joy is a tall order, I feel. It's not contentment or a quick laugh: it's those moments when life stands still and you are overwhelmed with how blessed & lucky you are, right at that moment. Your heart runneth over. 

Here is a longer list of the causes of my joy:

• Katie doing well in school; Annabel loving school; the funny things they say;
• The way the girls are with their dad, with their grandparents, with their cousins, with their aunt & uncles; the way they are with each other, when they are good with each other, which is more often than it used to be;
• All four of us sledding on the hill near our house last month;
• Singing in the choir (both choirs); singing a solo this summer; singing in the car; listening to certain music; Geoff playing music, especially when he is improvising; Geoff helping Katie play the piano; Katie playing a piece on the piano that she's worked hard to get right; Annabel singing along with a song I didn't know she knew
• Certain photographs I’ve taken; taking photographs in a place I find particularly evocative/inspiring; photo walks; photo sessions with clients & editing photos from those sessions;
• The kittens/cats; Molly dog;
• The show Parenthood;
• My new iPhone;
• Our Trip to England;
• Reading certain books, when I do it, which is not often enough (Little Bee, Poisonwood Bible, Room);
• Learning more about photography – going to Imaging USA;
• Writing, sometimes, when I do it, which is not often enough;
• Sitting in the back yard while the girls play in the pool or with each other;
• Days when things seem to fall into place - the house is clean, dinner is planned & ready on time, bedtime happens without any major snafu, I am able to be patient and understanding and gentle even in the face of whining and irritation.

I have realized that one reason I don't write much here is because I don't have confidence that what I have to say matters to anyone, not even me. But you know what? To hell with that.

Comments

[Jodie]

I love reading your journal. But I understand that feeling that nothing you say matters to anyone... I felt that way too when I used to journal. In the end I decided that what was important was if it mattered to ME.

[Melanie]

I love reading your journal, too. You write so well, I always feel like I am right there, feeling the love coming through your words. I know pain is often inevitable for growth, but sometimes it sure does suck. If you're up for taking requests, I would love love love to see more of your pictures. Your family is lucky to have such a good photographer in you. (From this mom that doesn't even remember to take phone pictures, for crying out loud. Good thing my husband's pretty good at it.)

I know we've spoken via email, but if you don't remember, I'm a court reporter. I know you didn't do depositions in your legal career (at least I don't think you did), but I have often thought as I've read you over the years you are one lawyer I'd always be trying to get assigned to for depos. Nothing makes me happier than to work with genuine people that aren't afraid to be honest and not put up an overly formal and high falutin' facade in the conference room or the courtroom. Hate to say it, but sometimes that's kind of a difficult quality to find in lawyers. (I don't mean all l lawyers, and truly don't mean to over-generalize).

I'm glad to see you'll be back, and I can't wait to read what your family's been up to lately.

[Becky A]

I feel that way very often - what could I have to say that hasn't already been said?

Love that you've been writing here again.

[carissa]

"But you know what? To hell with that."

I LOVE THAT. That kind of loving indignance is very powerful, and it makes me happy to read about you connecting with it.