The Art of Letting Go

Allow me to take you on a little journey today, straight into the environment of a typical early childhood lecture hall. Picture Nike shorts galore, topped with oversized tanks and sweatshirts that make you wonder if the top was stolen from someone three sizes larger or if the wearer herself has on any shorts at all. Sorority girls with their Starbucks coffee who want summers off, like free weekends, and just love kids! Oh yes, that's what my morning looks like.

And in such an environment, we are often presented with questions regarding our future classroom, credentials, and teaching philosophies. A few days ago we were asked What do you consider to be the hardest part about being a teacher? Some said lesson planning. Classroom management. I probably wrote down assessment because I hate tests. We ramble on like we know what we're talking about, but in reality, the answers to these questions don't hit you until you've had some experience actually teaching. And today, as I was standing on a 25-foot tower with a microphone headset instructing a bunch of high school guard girls, I was itching to change my answer to that question.

What do you consider to be the hardest part about being a teacher? 

For those of you who are new around here, I only do about three things with my life: I teach, I write, and I spin guard. And if you don't know what guard is, click the link because that's a topic for a whole other post.

Guard consists of three things, too: contemporary dance, marching technique, and chucking random pieces of equipment into the air for artistic effect. We like to call it "tossing." And if you aren't familiar with the guard world, there are three crucial elements of a toss. The prep, the push, and the release.

The Prep. 
Set up is everything. The toss will not be successful without proper technique. Details must be addressed. Equipment angles. Body placement. The elbow, the forearm, the wrist, the fingers, the core, the feet, the projection, the energy... In this stage, there's no such thing as too much information. This split second contains everything required for the toss to be executed.

The Push. 
What goes up must come down. Everyone knows that. But nothing can go up, no toss can be thrown, and no performer can grow, without a little push. A little extra knowledge. A little extra work. You put the finishing touches on everything so you can finish out strong.

The Release. 
This is it. The finishing touch. The cherry on top. The equipment is in the air. You can watch it. You can track it.

But you cannot control it.

Ironically, the release of a toss is often accompanied by a breath. As if to say, Relax. The more you try to control it, the worse it will be. 

Performers rely on muscle memory in the release stage. They have all the information. They've had their questions answered, and they've given it all the extra push. All that's left is to rely on everything they've learned to actually make it happen.

Teaching is like a toss. The prep is my favorite part. I love instructing. I love learning. I love reading, and singing, and acting stuff out in a room full of kiddos. I love nurturing, laughing, and taking the time to do things right. But this stage is never long enough. It only lasts a second.

The push is pretty great, too. Assessing. Analyzing. Making sure there's nothing else to teach. Nothing else those kiddos need. They're so close to success they can almost taste it. This stage is so exciting to watch.

But the release... Man. That, to me, is the hardest part about teaching.

In the Broadway version of Mary Poppins, there's a verse that wasn't written in either the book or the original movie script.

With every job when it's complete

there is a sense of bittersweet...

That moment when you know the task is done.

Though in your heart you'd like to stay

to help things on their way,

you always know they must do it alone.

There comes a point in every child's life when you have to let them go. Teacher, nanny, parent; whatever. You have to let them go. You have to trust that everything you've taught will be applied. You have to hope that they use what they learned to flourish in new situations. You have to pray that the confidence they gained in themselves will be enough.

The hardest part about being a teacher is that there's only so much you can do. Some kids will be ready to move on quickly, so you can't hold on. Some kids will have terrible home lives, but you can't take them home with you. Some kids could use your help for the rest of forever. But you can't always be there.

For my high school guard girls, it's time for that transition to start taking place. You know, that time when you're ready to give the next level of instruction and you can't wait to get there, but you can't move on quite yet because they haven't quite mastered the previous skill? They're close, but they haven't quite made it to the next step. That's where we are right now. And it's one of the most frustrating times of the year.

Soon, my girls will take the field to perform in competition. They will get one shot. Not two. Not three. Not seventy-five like they do in practice. They will get a single shot to prove themselves. And I will be helpless; standing on the sideline, hands folded in front of me, praying that everything I've said and everything I've done will be enough. You have to trust that, at some point, your little kiddos can make it on their own, and you have to trust yourself enough to know when that time comes. You've spent a lot of time prepping. Now they need a little push. And when it's time to release, draw up your courage, take a breath...

And just let go.

Anxiety, Humility, and A Whole Lotta Prayer

I'm not here to make a point today. I'm not here to respond to anyone or counter any opinions or even to attack beauty distortion. Other days, absolutely. Just not today.

Today I'm here to write. Because things have been completely overwhelming in my life. I could list everything that's been swimming around my mind; everything that's been happening to me and everything that hit me out of nowhere. But I asked myself a very important question just now: Is that really necessary? 

No. Honestly, it isn't. Writing all of that out for you to read will only do two things: one, annoy you to no end {it's not like you don't have enough stuff to worry about on your own, right?}, and two, stress me out even more than I already am. I just had a long meltdown in the shower and handed it all over to God. There's no sense in trying to explain it all or harp on it anymore.

But it sure is nice to not go at it all alone.

Among everything else I've been praying for recently, I started a new prayer. Send me support, Lord, I found myself in need, Send me friends to comfort me. Send me family to encourage me. Send me someone to hold me accountable, and send me your presence to get me through it all. 

I also really started buckling down on my daily quiet time. I know, I know, that sounds so goody-goody Christian girl. I don't mean it that way at all. If I'm being completely honest, I hadn't opened my bible since the semester started. Nor had I attended church, journaled thoroughly, or confided in anyone about how my faith or life was going. No one had asked, so I simply never answered.

Starting this past Friday, I decided to change some things around. My schedule changes each semester, and I'd already made the huge mistake of not allowing time for myself and faith in the midst of my daily routine. I began praying again. Reading again. Journaling again. And I felt comforted. Rejuvenated. Rededicated.

Until the first five seconds I left the quiet peace of my bedroom.

Retraining your mindset is no easy task. Staying comforted, rejuvenated, and rededicated to your faith and positivity is practically impossible with life slinging hurdles at you every second of the day.

Was I successful? Goodness, no. Even as I lay here writing this post, I'm in bed under a blanket with a hot cup of tea because my body feels like it's been hit by a truck. {I usually write my posts the night before they're published, for those who didn't know...} My list of things to do is still three times longer than my list of what I've already done, and I still can't shake two specific instances where I'd been treated harshly today. That's life. It doesn't leave much room for successful comfort and rejuvenation stories. But it can leave room for gracious comfort and rejuvenation stories, especially when you're not trying to accomplish them on your own.

I had asked for support. I had asked for friends, for family, for accountability partners, and for the known and felt presence of God. But I hadn't asked because it would be pretty cool to have; I asked for it because I knew I was desperate. I knew I needed it.

The first saving grace came from my family when I returned home for Labor Day weekend. I brought a laundry list of questions inspired by my latest anxiety attack and my parents sat right next to me as we checked every single one of them off the list. Were any of my deepest questions answered? Not really, but at least I'm heading in the right direction.

The next surprise came from a blogger over at Unfading Beauty Ministries. We had been liking each other's instagram photos and reading each other's blogs for a long time. Kristen was one of those people I'd never spoken to, but just knew I'd get along with if I knew her in real life. That's when her friend request came on facebook, and the awkward I-don't-know-if-it's-acceptable-to-talk-to-her-outside-of-blogland barrier was shattered. Suddenly, I had a friend in another country who was going through similar struggles messaging me, encouraging me, and including me in her own writing. What an unexpected and much needed surprise!

Two days later, it was time for small group bible study. It would've been easier not to go. Believe me, I had ten thousand other things to do. But I found myself wanting to go, and for the first time ever, I didn't feel anxious enough to stay home under the excuse that I needed to make the to-do list in my planner a little smaller. If I could sacrifice my time for anything, I should sacrifice my time for this.

It wasn't wrong to make that decision. In a room full of girls, we talked, we laughed, we prayed, and we shared stories. I hesitate to use the word fellowship because I know how churchy it sounds, but there's something to be said for it. It is definitely not credited enough. Suddenly, everything I had been stressing about seemed so much less important. At least for the moment. In complete honesty, it hasn't been diminished in importance at all, but it's been diminished in priority. We set goals for ourselves for the week, and picked accountability partners for the week.

I felt so much better. And after a phone call with one of my best friends on the drive home, my anxiety had practically vanished. I couldn't remember the last time I had truly been anxious about nothing.

It wasn't until my shower though, that I realized I had been given everything I had asked for. Support? Check. Friends? Check. Family? Accountability? Comforting presence? Check, check, check.

You don't have to tackle life all on your own. You shouldn't. You weren't meant to. Sometimes you have to humble yourself and ask for help. And that's okay. It doesn't make you weak, or needy, or incapable, or whatever else you think you are. If you need help, get help. Sometimes it comes in the presence of friends. Of family. Of mentors, accountability, or even God himself. It's amazing who and what God can use to save you from anxiety and pain if you'll simply give Him the opportunity to do so.

I'm the absolute worst at handing Him those reins. But it never fails... Once I do, the carriage rides much smoother. So if you take anything from this otherwise extremely personal blog post, let it be this:

Everything that's on that list of yours? You don't have to do it all in one day. In a week. In a month. In a year. You don't have to get your life together in the same way, or at the same time as someone else. You don't even have to worry yourself about it to the point of exhaustion {but you're probably doing that anyway}. The best part is, whenever, wherever, or however you decide to start tackling your list, you don't have to do it alone. You never have, and you never will.

A little support and a lot of a faith can go an awfully long way.

To Needy Girls: You Have An Unknown Advantage

When was the last time someone looked you in the eye and asked, "Are you okay?"

When was the last time someone asked about your day and actually wanted to know?

When was the last time you answered honestly to these questions whether the person was asking out of empathy or obligation?

For me? It's been a long time. Recently, I have been so overwhelmed with how few people I know who are like me. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, until I felt like very few cared.

I am the epitome of a "needy" girl. Not in the sense that I'll text you eight thousand times a day or stalk your whereabouts or anything... But I'll be the first to admit it: I am deeply sensitive. I require way too much attention. I can be wounded to tears by the simplest statement and I can take one sentence and analyze it until I've made it the complete opposite of the way you intended it.

Likewise, I never share what's on my mind because I'm always called needy. I've been called overdramatic. And maybe I am. But those statements hurt, too, because to me, it's all so real. It's all so valid. It's all so important. 

Being "needy" implies such a negative connotation in our society. So I looked up the definition of a "needy person" the other day. Turns out, a "needy person" is "someone who has needs and feels comfortable sharing, expressing, and communicating those needs."

News flash: everyone has needs, but "needy" people are better and stronger about communicating those needs. The biggest problem I've seen in my own experience is that those who were once confident in expressing those needs have been told to sit down, shut up, and keep hidden because the non-"needy" people don't want to deal with those needs. Are "needy" people really needy? Or are non-"needy" people selfish?

Perhaps a little bit of both.

You see, I'm one of those people who's either all in or all out. I don't just "like" things. Nothing is ever "okay." I'm either totally in love and deeply passionate about something or I'm completely indifferent. I can't blow things off. If something has impacted me {positive or negative!} I'll think about it for hours. Days. Weeks. It will consume me.

What a terrible life... you say. Always thinking. Always dreading. Always worrying. 

Yep. My brain is like an internet browser with 7,372,864 tabs open all at once. But I ask that you look at it differently for just one moment...

What if you were the topic consuming my mind? What if you were that important to me? What if I asked how your day was, and even though it had been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, you said, "Oh, it was okay," because you don't want to feel like a burden...but what if I actually wanted to know? I'm the girl who really wants to know what happened. I want to know who hurt you. I want to listen to you talk about it, or hold you while you cry, or let you vent until all the steam is out of your ears.

I totally suck at being low-maintenance. But when the tides have turned and you need to talk, you won't feel the need to be low-maintenance. You won't feel needy, emotional, or over-dramatic when you're confiding in a needy, emotional, over-dramatic person.

But no one sees it that way. And if you're like me, I'll bet you get tired of being called needy. Emotional. Over-dramatic. 

You are nothing of the sort. You may seem that way to those around you. For example... A few of my friends? Definitely not nurturers. After a bad day, they prefer to lock themselves in their rooms and unwind. They do not want to talk about it. To them, I'm sure I'm too needy.

But to me? Sometimes they're too insensitive.

Today's post is an ode to the needy girls of the world. The girls who are just like me. The ones who have been ignored and insulted for the way they approach others, when they were just trying to love the best way they knew how.

Needy girls? You have a definite advantage, and it is overlooked every day. You are such a rarity. A true diamond in the rough, if you will. While others are stuck ignoring problems, concealing pain, and struggling silently, you are there when life catches up to them. You are there when the problems get too big. You are there when the pain crushes them. You are ready, waiting in the shadows, when their deepest, darkest struggles become to heavy to carry on their own.

If you've ever called one of your friends "needy..." I urge you to think about where you were when they needed you, and where they were when you needed them. I urge you to look at life from their perspective every once in awhile. I urge you to get to know those you love so you will be able to love them better. The way they need you to love them, rather than the way you think you should love them. Sometimes what you think they need isn't what they need at all.

I've found so often that we express love in the ways we need to receive it. Instead, we should attempt expressing love in the ways they need to receive it.

Many times, in our genuine efforts to make life easier, better, and brighter for those we love, we fall into the trap of looking for ways to "fix it." We find ourselves asking, What can I do so she won't hurt as bad? or What will make this pain subside the fastest? The intentions are golden, but the results will falter.

Sometimes it's not about the fastest way to heal. It's about the most thorough way to heal. It might take awhile. You might have to pray for more than a couple of weeks. You might have to check in on them more than twice. The process might require a little more selflessness on your part.

Sometimes people don't need to be fixed. Sometimes people need to be loved.

If you need love today, know that you aren't too needy. You aren't too emotional. You aren't too overdramatic. You just aren't afraid to admit when you need a little help. Sometimes, when you admit you need something from someone, it annoys them. Sometimes, it frightens them. But the way they respond to you is not your problem. They might not know how to handle it. They might not be ready to handle it. And it will be easier for them to make it your problem. It will be easier for them to call you "needy" or "high-maintenance" or "over-dramatic" than it will be for them to love you.

So try not to take it too personal. Because when you take a step back, it's not always about you being weak and needy. It just might be about them being too afraid to tackle the depths of your heart.

We would like to give a special photography shout-out to Wendy at Wendy Dunn Photography for capturing and allowing me to edit & redistribute this photo on the blog and social media!