Linking up with Blessed Is She and #BISsisterhood this morning!

Yesterday I decided to just dive right into doing all of the prayer things I wish I had been doing more consistently: praying the liturgy of the hours, saying the rosary as a family, and writing in my prayer journal. 

I have been making a mistake that I feel is very tempting for many people: putting off good things until the timing is perfect. 

If I knew that I could not consistently have a family rosary, I put it off to try another day. But "another day" has a habit of never showing up, and that family rosary just never got said.

Yesterday I had the day off from cooking dinner and choir rehearsal. It was practically a vacation. 

It left us with an open afternoon on a rainy weekday.

Years ago my mom had sent me the bin of all of the giveaway rosaries my sisters and I have received over the years. There are dozens of plastic, glow in the dark, corded rosaries. 

I had the kids each pick a rosary out of the bin, sat on the floor with them, and announced we were going to do a rosary now.

They were pretty amenable to that idea. They looked at blocks, fiddled with the rosaries, and squirmed around while I said the prayers. 

After completing the rosary, we hung the rosaries up on the hooks with their stockings and went about our day. But the day was so much better!

It was not that anything went more smoothly really: we got rained out of the park, there was a spaghetti explosion while I was making dinner, and a generalized child meltdown during clean up time. 

Yet I felt peace.

It was like having a stress-resistant coating over my whole being. I was aware of less than ideal things happening all around me, but they were not able to get under my skin. 

Making the decision to pray with my kids, despite the likelihood of meltdown, gave me the peace to be a better mother yesterday. It is an addictive feeling. I find myself looking forward to doing it again today. 

Today is busy. I have a lot to do, and not much time to get it all done. Today I have responsibilities in the afternoon, but I want to try out our little family rosary again. That experience of peace is something I want to invite into our lives over and over again.

It might go badly, but I suspect peace will still come in a door held open a crack.

A Little Way for Unconditional Love

Linking up with Blessed Is She and #BISsisterhood this morning!

Lately, the afternoons, the part after nap time, just seems to stretch forever. 

We're in a serious funk at that point in the day. The kids are both in growth spurts that mean sleeping is either very little or a lot (but not in tandem with each other), and the need for mom's direct attention is high.

Then a miracle happened yesterday: it was quiet for a blessed 10 minutes. 

While everyone was awake! 

But that should have been wildly suspicious. 

I realized I had gotten too productive and should probably go see why that was the case. 

I found this:

Here is what John had to say about it:

Me: "John, where did your bubbles go?"
John: "I cooked with them. Made shampoo. Got Therese's hair aaallll cleaned up!"

*face palm*

He truly thought he was being helpful. He really was trying to be good. But it was just...not.

And I love him for it.

It is my tiny, miniscule, infinitely inadequate, glimpse at what loving us might be like for God. Even the saints may have tried so hard on earth to get things right, and just....didn't.

So I did what Jesus would do: I took the messy little baby and made her clean again. I talked with the big brother, who made the mess, about how I knew he was trying to be good but here are some better choices for next time. He said he would not do it again, and meant it sincerely (as far as I can tell.)

And we resumed being close with each other. We read many books, made dinner together, and played dance party.

We practiced a little unconditional love, in our little way, because these are the little lessons that build to the big lessons.

Someday my rambunctious little three year old will be old enough to go into a confessional himself, and he will get to experience the unconditional love of the Father.

He will have learned what a little taste of that unconditional love is like from his earthly mother.
At least I can try.

Remembrance: Go and Be in Peace

Linking up with Blessed Is She and #BISsisterhood today to talk about Remembrance.

This week has had quite the emotional highs and lows. Saturday is going to be a little of both. Saturday we say the Office of the Dead, in remembrance of our little one, and the Blessing of Parents After a Miscarriage or Stillbirth.

I want it. I don't want it.

It offers closure, yet it rips open that wound and shines a light on it (with an audience.)

I want to be held, and I want to be alone.

I want to grieve and I want to move on, and I want them both at the same time. Preferably right now.

But I do know that I need this. We need this. Everyone involved needs this.

The thing about remembrance is that we do not get to pick what touched us about that person. All of the ways they changed our lives, and how we are different because of their life. 

Remembering them means remembering the loss of our previous self - the self that existed before they drifted into our lives and  dealing with the self that is now that they have drifted out. 

Previous me knew about the possibility of a loss this close was a possibility. Previous me was naive enough to think it was probably not going to happen. 

Previous me did not have a clue how strong friendships could be in the face of loss. Previous me did not know that someone would show up at my door with food. Previous me had no idea what it was like to be prayed for by so many people, and some of them true strangers.

Remembering Mary means remembering how different I am now. How raw her loss remains, but also how we are feeling our way towards peace.

So be in peace little Mary. Mom is waiting on you.

To read more stories about miscarriage, check out Remembering the Littlest of Lives link up with Sweeping Up Joy.

A Tarnished Gem in the Crown of Creation

Linking up with Blessed Is She and #BISsisterhood to talk about Crown of Creation.

I love Pope St. John Paul II, but that guy really made it very hard to ignore that the position of women in the church is simultaneously an honor and a huge weight of  responsibility. 

 He uses words, like "crown of creation" and "feminine genius", to describe the unique gifts women are in this world. 

Frankly, it's a lot of pressure to be a crown, and a jewel in the crown at that. Women are offered a share in creation through our ability to give and sustain life, and that is both awesome and terrifying.

Through our spiritual motherhood, women can play an important role in creating a more just and beautiful world. Through our physical motherhood, women are integral in the forming of brand new humans - new soul-bodies. 

But sometimes I tarnish creation. Sometimes I say exactly the wrong thing and lead someone else into error or pain. 

Sometimes I can't save everyone. Sometimes I feel I have nothing left to give.

Yet, I am not off the hook.

Even in my, significant, failings I do not get demoted from the role of jewel in the crown. 

Because this is who we are, not just something we are choosing to be.

So this little jewel might need a little, or a lot, of polishing, but I still get to be in the crown and so do you.

Comfort in the Communion of Saints

Linking up with Blessed Is She and #BISsisterhood this morning to talk about Communion of Saints.

We're approaching two of my favorite feasts in the church year: All Saints and All Souls (November 1st and 2nd, respectively). 

All Souls is our feast for the dead. This is the day to visit the cemetery, add pictures and mementos to your home altar, and light all the candles!   It is the day we remember those who have passed on, but might not be in heaven just yet. 

All Saints is for everyone who has the joy of heaven! It serves as a catch all for those souls in heaven the Church has not managed to canonize. 

Perhaps one of my favorite church teachings is that of the communion of saints. It means that all souls are still connected, even after death. Those in purgatory still need our love and care, and those in heaven are able to know and love us here on earth. We never stop being family to each other.

We have an obligation to care for each other, even after death. I try to remember this by praying for the most forgotten soul in purgatory. The one who has no one to pray for them, who may have been forgotten for centuries or millennia. That is the one I want to help.

Saints no longer need our prayers to help them in their purification for heaven, but they can help us here on earth. Saints are capable of loving in a way we have forgotten. 

This year is bittersweet now that we have our own saint in heaven. Catholics know that we become saints, and not angels, when we die and are in heaven, and innocent children always go to heaven. Mary Bernadette exists now in perfect form. She may have died a very tiny infant, but she is now in her full soul form.

Through the communion of saints, my daughter and I can know each other. We will not physically touch until the end, but we can meet each other in prayer. She can intercede for me. I like to think she has a bit of a soft spot for her mom.

In this communion, we are never fully separated from each other and we get a glimpse of that closeness we were made to exist within. All of this hard work on earth is meant to have the final goal of getting back to that place of perfect communion with God and each other.

That's a goal I can get behind.

The Way: Love and Truth are Besties

Linking up with Blessed Is She and #BISsisterhood to talk about The Way.

I went to my first big Theology on Tap event last night.

For those who have not heard of ToT, this is an event that was started to quite literally bring the Gospel to where the young people are: the bar. There is a speaker who will be talking about a particular point of theology or aspect of Catholicism, followed by Q & A, in the middle of this perfectly normal bar.

It's pretty great.

Last night's event was with Dr. Mary Davenport, our only NFP doctor in the entire SF Bay Area, talking about "coping with your fertility". She had her work cut out for her: trying to explain how we got here, historically, and all of the copious methods of NFP and artificial birth control in relation to church teaching.

Then a medical assistant stood up as the first question. She works in an OB/GYN office and sometimes has to walk patients through how to use artificial birth control. She wanted to know if what she was doing was morally wrong.

It was simultaneously heart rending for both of them. They both knew the answer, but the choice was in how to give hope. How to give this woman stuck in a difficult position some sort of grace and support in getting out of a moral trap.

Reading Aquinas' Summa showed me that a lot of theology is very logical, and can be arrived via human reasoning. But I still desperately need Jesus' example to show me how to show love to someone who is hurting and struggling.

Because our struggles are not always logical, it takes more than being a skilled apologeticist to explain church teaching. It takes walking in Jesus' way and seeing the person beneath the surface who needs you to see her and hear her.

Doing that cannot ever take away from the truth in theology, and we do noone any favors by taking away a moral center.

I appreciated Dr. Davenport's response that both heard the questioner's concern and her underlying worries: can I still work in this job? Can I be a medical assistant at all? Is there hope for me?

Responding in love and truth is Jesus's way, THE Way. It's hard, and I fail at it a lot. But it's the only way worth walking.

On God's Time, But That Guy's Got a Sense of Humor

Linking up with Blessed Is She and #BISsisterhood, to talk about God's timing.

Our oldest child was born 9 1/2 months after our wedding. We get a lot of questions about if he was a "honeymoon baby", and subtle (along with not so subtle) inquiries about if he was an "oops".

Short answer is: not really and no. We had decided to "try to whatever" (TTW) for that cycle. We had no strong reasons to wait, but were not actively trying to conceive either.

It had occurred to me that having a baby at that point, my senior year of college and while I was writing my thesis and working as a TA and an Admissions Coordinator, might present some challenges. Not so much on not being able to do the work, that was fun at that point, but on being a pregnant woman at a school that tended to ignore the realities of reproduction.

My whole first trimester, I was a TA for Introduction to Women's Studies. You know, the class where we talk about women's issues all day all the time. I could not bring myself to tell anyone in that class for a while. When I finally did, they didn't believe me.

According to these women, pregnancy was hard, and scary, and potentially life threatening as a matter of course. I could not possibly be pregnant if I had been showing up for class, not sick constantly, and looking even more healthy than normal.

It was a hard, but enlightening discussion. A conversation that wouldn't have occurred if we had waited the more typical 2-5 years after the wedding to be open to conceiving. 

Reality finally set in for them when I came back for the last semester showing considerably more than in the Fall, but it continued to be an uphill battle to be seen as a capable person.

I'm not sure I would have had the courage to go through a pregnancy then if I had known the fight I was in for, but God knew. That guy knew the consequences of placing someone who challenged so many assumptions right smack in the middle of that class. 

I was there on purpose. I continue to be where I am on purpose - it's just not solely my purpose. And that's a good thing. It's how God keeps me from whimping out. He gets me.

Living Faith: It's Gotta Be Shared

Linking up with Blessed Is She and #BISsisterhood to talk about Living Faith.

Like most other people, I go through ups and downs of faith. I also have periods where particular aspects of the faith are more appealing than others.

When my husband was traveling, I got really into the Liturgy of the Hours - like really into it. It felt like if I clung to this structured communal prayer of the Church, then I could rely on their strength to get me through the hard parts of the days and nights.

In that time, the part of my faith that was about joining with others in prayer was alive and well.

However, I didn't let anyone see me. I didn't share this expression of faith with the little ones occupied for ten minutes with water and beans in various containers.

Now, I am going to say that I think it is important to do some of your prayer alone. Some things are very intimate like that. But what I was doing was making ALL of my prayer alone.

So I decided to change that.
I brought a bin of quiet (until the 3 year old gets them anyway) toys into my room, and let the kids pray around me while I said the office.

The first two times, John spent a lot of time trying to distract me: playing with my hair, tickling my feet, trying to turn the pages in the book.

But by the third time, they both got quiet during the chanting parts.

By the fifth time, John was trying to match the tones - shyly and quietly off to the side.

By the sixth time, John starting bringing a little book of his own and kneeling down with me (not actually a prayer book, but hey, effort!)

I was listening to him play while I changed the baby the next morning, and John was carrying on a conversation with his stuffed animals that went like this, "First we gotta go into mama's room. It's the CHURCH room. It's where we sing our Jesus songs. Because I love you sooooo much!"

Even though we have been working on learning the prayers, celebrating the liturgical year, and reading bible stories most of his life, what made John really grasp the faith I am trying to pass down was inviting him into MY faith. Into MY prayer.

It's not enough to make "kid-friendly" versions of faith and prayer. What kids really need is to be invited into the living faith of adults. If we are to have any hope of passing down the beauty and richness of the Catholic faith, we must be willing to be role models of adult faith.

It's perfectly fine to have saint crafts and kid level bible stories, just also make sure to let the kids see the faithful adults we are meant to be.

What I Learned from a Bunch of Religious Men

Linking up with Blessed Is She this morning on #BISsisterhood to talk about wholeness.

I live at the base on an area called "holy hill" in Berkeley, CA. There are a LOT of religious orders, schools, and formation houses around here.

I had the honor of attending the installation of the new Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology (DSPT) President last night. The installation mass was held at our parish, and celebrated by our bishop.

I figured a number of religious would attend, but there is knowing and there is seeing.

On my way to the church, a car pulled up and parked on the other side of the street. About six, young, habited Dominicans got out. Some pedestrians actually stopped and stared. The men were not bothered by this in the slightest (at least so it seemed.) They had already spotted more of their brothers, and were joined by men of a number of other religious orders.

Even though they are all part of different orders, with very different daily work and charisms, all of these guys are a whole entity when it comes to God. They were largely young and vibrant - people who had answered this call not all that long ago.

I wonder how many of them would have been friends had it not been for the church? How many of my friends would I never have met if not for the church?

It got me thinking about how different my life is because I've chosen to be a practicing Catholic. I met my husband via a Catholic website. I met my current friend group through the parish young adults group. My "outside the home" activities all center around the parish or Catholicism in some way.

I might not have chosen this life without the push and support of the church. It's actually a lot of work, and would be nearly impossible if not for the spiritual, emotional, and physical support I have recieved from my parish community.

I might have landed here eventually, but I might not. I might have gone down a lot of wrong roads and dead ends if not for the gentle guidance of the church. I can't say I would have been a very good person without this help. At the very least I would have a lot of unnecessary baggage.

The thing with all of those roads that the church tries to warn us from pursuing, you don't walk through it unscathed. You come out bruised and hurting - even those times when you don't want to admit that truth to yourself.

I'm eternally grateful for the church's efforts to keep me whole. She's always trying the prevent the harm I might even believe is a good at that moment. And when I don't listen - something I'm still working on - she offers a way home. All I have to do is say yes.

Expectations: Finding the Holy Medium

Linking up with Blessed Is She this morning to talk about expectations. #BISsisterhood

Did you know we actually have scientific surveys on happiness? The World Happiness Report was established in 2012 and claims to measure international happiness. The survey asks respondents to think of a ladder, with the best possible life for them being a 10 and the worst a 0. They are then asked to rate their life on this 0-10 scale. 

You know who consistently scores the highest? Denmark. 

But the Danes themselves don't actually think they are all that happy. What they have are low expectations.

The Danes consistently rank their expectations for their lives pretty low at the beginning of the year. When life turns out not to be as terrible as expected, they are content with the year, and thus rank highly.

While this strategy of low expectations might score the Danes highly on these international surveys, I'm not really sure it's true happiness.

What if we were to try the Danish strategy with finding happiness in our prayer lives? Instead of being able to look back on a year that really wasn't all that bad, I think one would be more likely to find a year filled with missed opportunities, apathy, and a growing distance from God.

We really can't get away with low expectations in our prayer lives, because it doesn't function like a work life - it's more of a love life. It's a relationship, and relationships are something that need expectations.

Low expectations in prayer life seems akin to trying to figure out the bare minimum one can get away with doing. Perhaps the relationship will limp along by doing that, but I hardly think it's a recipe for happiness.

As Catholics, we are called to find the holy medium in many things - expectations being one of them. Low expectations are out, and expectations that are too high will cause a "crash and burn effect". What one needs is to find that beautiful, and holy, place where you are reaching for God from where you are - not where you wish to be.

As much as I would enjoy being in a peaceful convent where I could do my work and pray at all of the appointed hours - it's not where I am. I'm called to be a wife and mother. Right now, that means being a mother to small ones who have big, sudden needs for me.

I fulfill the needs of my children while also expecting prayer time to happen. I also expect sleep to happen and eating to happen. These are needs I have as a human being, and I can't make them less so by lowering expectations.

I can change my expectations on the hows and whens, but I can't let my changed expectations become no expectations. God doesn't stop asking for a relationship so neither can I.

Joy - It's the Little Things

Happy early Labor Day everyone! Today we're talking about labor over on Blessed Is She.

I talked about the birthing babies kind of labor earlier this week, but today we're going to address the kind of labor we do every day. Those daily strivings for sanctity and survival.

I am absolutely terrible at taking it easy or procrastinating. It's like I have a constant reel going in my head of "All the Things I Could Be Doing Right Now".

Thankfully, I'm good at prioritizing the reel. I typically manage to feed everyone, keep the babies safe, maintain the house at decent level of clean, and still do my newest crazy idea.

But I run into problems when I start to resent those first three things. The things that I have to do because I am a mother and this is my job right now.
Come to find out, I don't love changing diapers, washing dishes, and chopping onions. But that doesn't mean they are not valuable and important tasks.

What I have to do is decide to find the joy within these necessary tasks. The giggles and snuggles that happen after the diaper change. The exclamations of "I like it momma" when the 3 year decides he did like roasted chicken after all. The time we are blessed with in the evenings, after Matt comes home, because I've managed to get almost all of the chores done during the work day.

Finding joy in labor is the difference between surviving and thriving. It's what keeps me from resenting this season in my life.

That is not to say you have to just LOVE EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY! That's not realistic, and kind of terrible advice. If you love every moment of every day, I think you might be lacking some ability to discern between good things and not good things.

I think of joy as small attitude decisions we can make every day. It's seeking the bigger picture and thinking beyond the now. You don't have to love every moment of your life to love your life.

Prayer - Why You Should Really Get Around to Doing That

Today I'm linking up with Blessed Is She to talk about the power of prayer.

When I was in middle school and early high school I was heavily involved in discernment activities and youth group at our parish. Through these things I was exposed to a lot of different modes of prayer, and met a lot of people who devoted a significant portion of their lives to prayer.

This prayer life looked very different, in practice, from person to person. Some, like some of our fabulous youth ministers, prayed through singing in their band (this is also when I learned that it's a thing for people to jump in the shape of a cross at Christian music concerts.) Others loved the rosary. I like the universality of the liturgy of the hours. 

What matters seems not to be the mode of prayer, but the consistency of that open line of communication with God. The frequency of their prayer seemed to act like a buffer against disappointment or despair in those times when the answer to their prayer was "no" or "not yet." 

I find that still to be true in my own prayer life. 

It is much more difficult to let God work in my life when I'm not actively listening to him. I wouldn't expect my relationship with my husband to be going well if I just ignored him except for one day a week through which I was part way listening. We need lots of little opportunities to check in with each other. Same with God.

The power of prayer is that we are invited to an open communication with a person so much bigger than anything we could possibly imagine. It's not so much about the physical miracles, cures, and protection - though I believe those things happen. But they happen as a physical sign for us to remember the awesome power of God. 

We are not owed miracles, we are not even owed an answer to our prayers, but we are invited to open the discussion. 

Discernment - It's never really over

Linking up with Blessed is She at #BISisterhood today to talk about discernment. 

I attended a lot of "vocation awareness" type events growing up. Vocations retreats, come and sees, young adult talks, etc. It was easy to focus so hard on discerning what your main vocation was to be, that we missed talking about all of the discernment that comes afterwards. The discernment that allows one to live your vocation to the fullest.

Discerning is a constant effort. It is never fully done and over with. Our vocations take re-choosing every day.

Even though I am in the state of "married" indefinitely, I still have to re-choose to live being married every day. I might miss a friend's birthday party because it means a lot to my husband to be able to attend a talk that same night. He might skip his gym class at work because I'm over my head with the kids that day and we really need someone to go to the store for milk.

It takes a lot of discernment to figure out what I, and we, should be doing right now. Are we living in the place where we can do the most good? Am I meeting the needs of my kids in the best manner I can?

There are so many ways to discern. Figuring out what works for you is a part of the process.

I really like to talk it out. One of my favorite ways to do discernment is to reflect on either scripture or other writings, and write out that reflection freeform. It's typically only when I read through it again, maybe a day or two later, that I start to see a pattern and notice what seems to be calling me.

The second part is saying yes to the result of that discernment. This is probably the hardest part for me. I often know what I should be doing pretty easily, but it's actually doing it that can make me hesitate. God is awesome and he still lets us choose, even when it would be so much easier if the right choice was just made for us sometimes.

So while discernment can be difficult, the result of choosing the good and right path found out in the process is often the path that will eventually give the most peace. In my experience, saying yes to something discerned as right and good does not often create feelings of true regret. But ignoring, or skipping, discernment leaves one very open to regrets.

Saying Goodbye With Meaning

Linking up with Blessed is She this morning for my thoughts on goodbyes.

I feel like our family has been in a bit of a season of goodbyes for a while now. Some are good, like saying goodbye to the diapers for John, and some not so good, like losing close friendships.

For all of them I believe the best goodbyes are the ones done with meaning. I hate the fizzle out way of saying goodbye because it skips the actual goodbye. It's the way to make something difficult go away, and ignores the wounds that need healing.

Goodbyes are work! Healing is work. There is not really a quick, easy, or numb way of doing it.

The beautiful thing about goodbyes is the hello you get to say afterwards. I can say hello to more independance from my preschooler, hello to new healthy friendships, and hello to healing.

As we approach the end of this month, I am very aware of how soon my little baby will be turning one year old. I'm aware that the goodbye to her sweet babyhood is nigh and a hello to toddlerhood is on the horizon. Like many of our transitions, this one is bittersweet.

Standing?! What happened to my little squishy?!

Every good mother wants her baby to grow into the the full person they were created to be, but there is a tug at the heartstrings when I remember how fleeting some of these times really are.

Like her unique way of babbling that sure to only last a few weeks. John yelling in the background about robots is probably going to be more of a lifelong thing.

I'm trying to embrace what is wonderful about things now, even though I know I will have to let go soon. I try to move through the goodbye even though it would be less painful in the moment to pretend nothing has changed. Embrace the goodbye!

Blessed Brunch Berkeley & What I Wore Sunday

Thanks to all of the Blessed is She ladies who came out to my house yesterday afternoon for some great food and conversation! It was great getting to meet you all/getting to know you better!

The group! We had two babies in arms and baby twins in utero!

One of our starting questions was "how do you pray/favorite way to pray." I loved hearing how everyone did the prayers differently, even if it was the same prayer. We have all found time for prayer in different places and different ways. I will definitely be taking some of the ideas into my life.

Keep in touch and lets keep the community going!

Now for What I Wore Sunday linking up with Fine Linen and Purple:

Dress: JC Penny's
Sweater: Target
Shoes: Payless
Earrings: Christmas gift from my husband
Bracelet: Gift from my friend Erin from her trip to Hawaii

So I meant to do this first (at least) What I Wore Sunday minus the veil, but I forgot to take it off (because I can't really feel it) so yeah. There's a little chapel veil too.

If you want one Veils by Lily does some great ones. It's all about that sewn in comb!

Thy Will Be Done: Why My Plans Will Always Fall Short

I'm linking up with Blessed Is She  again today. Happy Feast of St. Bridget of Sweden!

I'm just terrible at going with the flow. My version of spontaneity is spontaneously having a massive planning session for the next three months of activities. I like to know what's coming around the bend. 

But sometimes, I'm pretty sure, God just pats me on the head and says something like "you're cute, but that's not going to be the best way for you to go."

And I say something like, "but God THE PLAN?!"

And he says, "exactly."

(You totally just got my prayer life in a nutshell.)

I find the concept of needing to die to oneself in order to fully live one of the hardest truths in Catholicism. I think it's so hard because it is not something that is done once and overcome. It has to be redone, re-decided, renewed every single day.

It's not that I can't physically live without dying to myself, but am I really living if my body and soul are not in harmony?

Every time I manage to follow the path God intended for me all along I'm greeted by such peace. It's like my soul itself is sighing, "finally!"

So why didn't I just follow God's plan in the first place?

I know it would be good for me, I tend to have a feeling for what I should do, and I know firsthand the peace that comes from doing so.

So why won't I save myself the heartache?

Because I'm proud. Because I'm fallen. Because I really don't want to need God.

But I do. You do. We all do.

The sooner I remember that, the better I can be for the sake of my own soul and for the good of others.

That's way better than my newest five year plan.

The Real World or When JPII Has My Back

This week, over at Blessed Is She, we're talking about real.

When I saw the prompt, I instantly thought of a bagillion directions to go in. "Real" is a word that gets thrown around about everything from body type (ex. "real women have curves" campaign) to food (ex. "real food movement"). But the one type of "real" that has impacted my life a lot lately is what constitutes the "real world", "real job", and "real world experience."

We live in a college town, and every year around graduation time people start talking a lot about where they are going from here. That's great! I love making plans. Big plan and list maker over here! What I don't love is when I hear moms deploring their work as moms for not being "real experience" or a "real job" That just makes me sad.

You see, valuing work solely by its worldly determined monetary value does a great job of marginalizing everyone who does not fall into the college through retirement age work force. Stay at home moms, kids, retirees, the sick and disabled, elderly  - these are people who can suddenly no longer be considered doing anything of value for society. And I just don't think that's true.

I'm a stay at home mom. All the people I see every day primarily fall into one of these marginalized categories. For ten hours a day the "not at paid work"-ers are making a community without the "paid workers." We do miss y'all! We really do. But we are not helpless without you for that time. We find joy, and assistance, and ideas among ourselves.

In Pope St. John Paul II's Letter to Women, he writes:

 "Progress usually tends to be measured according to the criteria of science and technology. Nor from this point of view has the contribution of women been negligible. Even so, this is not the only measure of progress, nor in fact is it the principal one. Much more important is the social and ethical dimension, which deals with human relations and spiritual values. In this area, which often develops in an inconspicuous way beginning with the daily relationships between people, especially within the family, society certainly owes much to the 'genius of women.'"

I think what truly makes something of the "real world" are those times when we are interacting with other people. "Real world experience " is not had in the manipulation of a spreadsheet. It is a marketable skill, for sure, but it's not really real world experience. The real world experience came from maintaining relationships with your co-workers so you can have a healthy office environment. It came from working out problems you encounter, and learning how to admit when you made a mistake or need help.

These are all things that can be accomplished outside of the office environment. They are not improved by being monetarily compensated. Returning/joining the workforce is a big decision, but don't do it to "gain real world experience". I would bet that you have much more "real world experience", and opportunities for it, than you realize.