1000 Strands

Everything is connected

Archive for March, 2013

The Infancy of our children

Posted by Nicole on March 14, 2013

This is something I wrote a while ago when I was neck-deep in caring for a newborn baby… it helped me and I pray it helps other new moms someday too. For my beloved sisters who have new babies…

My first baby on her first day.

My first baby on her first day.

 

************

“The infancy of our children. If we let it be a part of us — a part of our story, it can forever deepen our involvement in the bigger stories of life. This is a piece of my life deeply woven. Life. Delicate. Fragile. Alive.

I struggle for sleep and sanity.

Reminding myself over and over – It’s not failure, just challenge and struggle. Face it. Enjoy its opportunity for growth. Love endlessly. Give when it hurts. Teach as I learn. Kindness and respect in the midst of injustice.

[Soft hand on my mouth. Body and soul in my arms. Breath of my breath]

I get to build a soul. My work is invisible to her. This is my war and I fight for our lives.

Dear, self – Connect. Be in each moment. Press in. Don’t shy away from the discomfort.

Let the scars and wounds be a badge of honor
and not a regret.”

 ************

My second baby on her second day

My second baby on her second day

This is so hard, my friends – being “the mom.” So full of tensions and the sweet, torturous push and pull of being so lonely and yet never alone.  Fighting for survival – yours and theirs. No one will ever see the battles you win every day, but you will and God will and that sweet baby you hold will forever be changed because of your love. Hang in there. It will be worth it, I promise.

My two precious babes

My two precious babes

 

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Have you ever been asked a personal question?

Posted by Nicole on March 8, 2013

This was how my mother started the conversation.

“Do you know…”

“Do I know, what?”

“Do you know how women have orgasms?”

(AAaaaaaakward pause…avoiding eye-contact now…)

“Um, yes? …  Yes. I mean, yes. Mom, Seriously!” (laughing erupts)

 

Have you ever been asked a personal question?

Have you ever been asked a personal question?

How did your parents bring up the sex talk?

But, my mother didn’t stop at this first shocking question. She did not accept my protest that I already knew all I needed at 16 years old.  She knew me deeply despite the fact that it would be 11 more years before I truly understood the depths to which she knew me, when I had my own daughters to love.

(aside: isn’t it funny that as we grow up, we think our parents don’t know us? now that i am a mom myself, i could hardly think of anything i know more intimately than my daughters.)

See, my mother became a teenager in the 60’s and a single mother to two small girls in the 80’s. She is neither large in stature or personality.  Caring, loyal, sensitive, Indigo Girls-singing… this is my mom.

She gave me space to discover my way in the world. She usually held back advice or opinions. But, this conversation, this was just too important to leave to chance, I suppose. Too important to hope my sister and I learned it somewhere someday.

And so, one night at the dinner table, surrounded by flowered wallpaper in our little kitchen nook, my education in sex and/or “feminism” began with a loving, blunt question.

 “Do you know how women have orgasms?
There is a part of your vagina called the clitoris…”

“Wow, Yep. Yes there is… Thinking about it right now, Mom. Thanks.”

************

Within that awkward, sweet conversation, my mom enunciated one of the most important things I have ever learned about men and women… and it’s not what you think – no anatomy lessons today.

What I learned was:

The importance of giving and receiving.  The importance of knowing how to receive from someone else and understanding that both men and women are made to give and receive.

I hate generalities, but here’s one anyway: sometimes, as a woman, you have a serious inclination to give until you forget who you are and to give until you are bone dry

But this is not the only way to be a good woman. This is not exactly what God meant when he made us “helper/helpmeets” or put that sentence in the Bible.

There’s something even more fundamental than your womanhood and that’s your humanity. My humanity. Humans are made to breathe – to give and take.  You were made to receive gifts not just give them, but sometimes we believe it is more holy to ignore our own needs.

God planned ahead for our confusion. He always does.

Here’s my theory:

So that we could not say to ourselves or each other that we women are only here to improve other people’s lives … God, well, He gave us a special reminder… a piece of ourselves – something designed with no other purpose but receiving pleasure.

Name it what you will, but there is really no other function for a clitoris than selfish fun.

You were specifically formed and created so you could receive joyous pleasure from someone whom you love – if you so choose.

BUT…

This is not just physical.

Sex is never just physical, anyway.

Sex is a metaphor and a workshop for so many of the important personal/relational issues of life. God didn’t design us – body or soul – just coincidentally. God is not a god of Coincidence but of Providence.

Our bodies represent and experience life on behalf of and in partnership with our souls. This is why sex is “soulish”.

So, when I say, “You were specifically formed and created so you could receive joyous pleasure from someone whom you love…” I DO NOT just mean through your clitoris. As fun as that can be.

The thing behind the thing is that God loves connecting stuff together. This is a sign of this – and this is really always about something deeper. Soulish.

The physical parts of me made only for receiving love are a sign and symbol of the invisible parts of me made only for receiving love.

Made for Love

Made for Love

I think this is what my mom really said that day.  (I mean, other than how women actually do have orgasms.)  What I have taken with me into my midlife is this lesson:

Do I know how to receive GOOD into my life? Because I am made to.

We were made to experience pleasure and joy being given to us as we give in return.  I know, this is an incredibly simplistic view at one tiny angle of sex and our bodies and all the stuff/history/rules we each carry around.

Male and Female relations…  can be so complicated and political and theological. It can get so heated and angry but, for my little family that night and still to this day, it comes down to the issue of giving and receiving within each human.

**********

Women knowing not just how to give but to receive in all areas of life and self:
care, love, hope, access, success, pleasure, pay raises, opportunities to speak or teach or write, promotions, respect and yes, orgasms.

This is what I pray for us. This is the thing behind that first question: Giving and Receiving. The GOOD in life is not just for others but for you too. And for me.

Do you know how women have orgasms?

There is a part of your vagina called the clitoris…

-Nicole

Prayer: God thank you for the way you’ve made me. Thank you for knitting my body and soul together in ways I am just beginning to understand. Please help me to believe you have good in store for me – actually, you have good just waiting for me to receive it even right here and right now.  Thank you for my mom’s courage and honesty and love. Thank you for Your love and design for life. Help me love and appreciate the way you designed me as well.  Amen.

Made for Love

Made for Love

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If you are still reading… SIDE NOTE… as I wrote about this topic and repeatedly needed to write the word clitoris, I began craving replacement words. In case you need a nickname or a good laugh, here’s a couple good ones I found. You’re welcome.

CLITORIS

Love Button
Pleasure Center
Little woman in the pink canoe
Center Ring At The Three Ring Circus
Thermostat
Clitty Cat

 

 

 

 

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The Dresses in my Life

Posted by Nicole on March 8, 2013

I’m guessing I was seven.

A 7 year old girl. Shortest in my class with fine, brown hair and freckles.

Walking through the mall, my child-mind not caring at all what our actual reason was for being there, I saw it – I saw “her” really, not it.  In the window of a boutique children’s store, I saw the dress I still wish I could wear.

**********

I just knew it had to be mine. The true love was instant. I saw her from across the room and we were simply soul mates. There’s no other way to describe it.

The perfect visible manifestation of my invisible soul.

The physical depiction of my inner self.

I’d never been struck by an item of clothing before; Never known something was made for me, but this gorgeous thing was! oh, it was! Made. For. Me.

No description will do it justice.
How could I describe my Love to you in a way that doesn’t cheapen it?

Simply: imagine white, lace, a ballgown skirt, beads, shimmer. But none of that matters, because we had chemistry. So, make whatever is in your head 1000x better than what you first thought….
Oh, the delicious Specialness.

It was all I wanted from that moment on.  My school pictures would be epic!

I remember creating songs in its honor for days. Songs of love and courage. Spinning in circles, holding onto light poles and dancing my heart out in honor of the dress that would finally show the world the inner me – how beautiful and SPECIAL God made me.

What amazes me, looking back, is the esteem and self-love the dress awoke in me.

So, I worked up the bravery to ask my Dad to take us BACK to the intimidating mall and buy it for me. Making the ask felt like exposing my soul.

Sometimes, every once in a while, there is a material thing that really does connect with our souls. And telling someone how much it matters is like telling them You matter.

Sometimes, most of the time, other people don’t understand. And their misunderstanding shakes the foundations of your own convictions.

When my Dad, a shy and introverted man who struggled with public spaces, DID take me back to the mall, the combination of our awkwardness(es) could only lead one direction.

We walked into that boutique and immediately the weight of my ask grew heavier and heavier. My feet went cold. Looking up, I saw his face, the face of a father unable to understand or afford the thing his oldest daughter is asking for… and I knew. I knew it wasn’t my dress anymore.  By the time he turned over the pricetag, I was already saying Nevermind. Nevermind. It’s not worth it.

But, honestly, and not melodramatically, I decided I wasn’t worth it.

That day we bought a blue, plaid dress with an orange bow at the neck. We bought it from Sears.

**********

I was engaged to the love of my life at the age of twenty.  After 14 years of marriage and 18 years of making-out, our love is a challenging work but it is also a Great Love – the stuff of fairytales and Nicholas Sparks books.

Our wedding was incredibly simple: Morning light. Chicken lunch. Martinelli’s Toast. Silly afternoon dancing. Perfect.

except for my dress

Something still remained locked inside me even 14 years later.  Spending time or money on clothes or myself was no longer worth it.

Everything else was worth it: Our love was worth it, my family was worth it, our wedding was worth it but the part that was just for me – the dress …  I could not really engage in that process. I could not stand the tension within me. To spend time or money on something just for me, I wanted out of that decision fast.

So, with practicality and a desire to be unselfish with finances as my logical guides, I never dreamed for myself in this area. I quickly picked a cheap dress, hated it because it was actually ugly, and quickly picked another cheap dress that was pretty.

I felt pretty that day. It was a good day.

But I still long for that perfect dress. I still long to have a dress to wear that seems to complete me – even if just for a moment. Daydreaming for beauty.  It may sound shallow. That’s ok. Maybe it is. But it is real. You can still drown in shallow water.

**********

The issues always go deeper than the ones we discuss. So, I’ll end with this prayer…

Prayer: Jesus, my friend, I know you have more in store for me and available to me than I know how to absorb. I pray for the day that my very own skin and hair and smile are the things I fall in love with because you picked them out.  I pray, that like some John Mayer song, or the 7-year-old version of myself, I could sing about my skin – my face – with joy and courage and love.   And, Jesus, could I please someday have a dress that compliments this skin and face – the way a sunset lights up the beach? Thanks Jesus.

The perfect visible manifestation of my invisible soul.

(written as a linkup to the lovely Tanya at Thorns and Gold for a connection started at Concrete Words – yay, new friends!)

Posted in Free Flying Faith, Honest Home, Wonderful Wrestlings | 2 Comments »

Spiritual Midwives

Posted by Nicole on March 6, 2013

I’m new to this idea of putting my voice out into the air. So, I’ve been searching for people to connect with as I write. One person I have begun reading and enjoying is Sarah Bessey. So today, when she invited people to link up on the topic of spiritual midwives  — women who have helped me as God gave birth to some new part of me — I decided to give this a try and jump on in.  (She also spoke of Patron Saints as people we don’t know personally who have helped us or that we want to emulate – but I have lumped them together for today.)

________________________________________________________

My children were born at the hands of a midwife.

I too, have been born again at the hands of spiritual midwives.

The way my daughters were guided – with wisdom and help but never interference.

I have been guided but not controlled. Coaxed into a New Life.

Basically, women have come alongside me and helped me survive my spiritual births.

***********

I’ve had two women I LOVE give birth this month. Two new babies born into this version of life – Beautiful, strong, fragile, life-threatening and life-affirming birthing stories.

So, I have been thinking about the truth of birth a lot…
the awesome and the ugly.

How scary birthing is.
How no one can control it.
How birthing is messy.
How it is so messy.

How it pulls us back to the bones of living, exposing the ways we cover our nakedness in the day to day.

How it requires us to open up areas we absolutely did not and DO NOT want to see. (No thanks on the mirror on my wide-open vajewels.  I did NOT need to see THAT part of me at that angle, thanks!)

And no person’s birth story is the same. Absolutely no one can predict how or when a baby will be born.

We can get along just fine in life with very little help, taking care of the world and our selves, but at a birth you need help.

BTW – God bless the women who have orgasmic birthing stories. God bless you. The stories I most often hear are more warlike than dreamlike. Before I actually experienced a birth, I thought it would be one gorgeous day of finding my strength and beauty as a woman and mother.

“Giving birth is so natural and beautiful!! Giving birth rocks!”

I truly believed that would be The Way for me in childbirth.  Orgasmic in a sense … and, it wasn’t really.

I forget that God is the author of life. I forget that I can draw parallels between Him and His creation – his Words he spoke into being.

Daily, I forget  —
The way it is for physical birth is often the way it is for spiritual birth.

I still sometimes think that spiritual birth and growth is going to be this beautiful, natural experience – An experience where we move from one day to the next becoming closer to God and wiser as a person. Our skin will start to glow and we will walk around with people wondering how we got so beautiful and happy.

Think EAT, PRAY, LOVE… Isn’t that part of why we all bought that book? I too can have a beautiful awakening and rebirth into my true self and all I need to do is eat whatever I want then spend lots of freetime just breathing and sitting still and then fall in love in a foreign country.  AND DONE.

“Being a Christian is so natural and beautiful and happens in ways I can write so easily about!!  Being reborn rocks!”

 

But I am, honestly, in the middle of a spiritual birth and am reminded daily (whether I want to or not)

How scary even spiritual growth is.
How no one can control it.
How it is messy.
How it is so messy.

How it pulls us back to the bones of living, exposing the ways we cover our nakedness in the day to day.

How it requires us to open up areas we absolutely did not and DO NOT want to see. (No thanks on crying in staff meeting! Or at Starbucks when someone is says a harsh word.)

How no person’s spiritual birth story is the same. Absolutely no one can predict how or when each of us will find God in our lives or have a new epiphany about life.

How we can get along just fine in life with very little help, taking care of the world and our selves, but at a spiritual transition or birth you need help.

We need help in our spiritual births as well.

It’s funny, I would NEVER have considered giving birth to my babies alone with no help just because my body was made to do it and I believed it would be natural and beautiful.

I sought out a midwife to help and guide me. And she did! She checked my progress. She prepared me for birth. She was there the whole way. She cut the cord when it was around my baby’s neck.

I need to remember on days when it is difficult to grow in my life with God that my spiritual midwives are just as important.

My girl friends, my favorite author-friends (who will someday be my friends if all this Eternal life stuff is really real), my MOM, my sister, the writers all around me in the air blogging their spiritual stories. — all of them are my midwives at different times and in different ways.

They check on my progress. They encourage me. They give advice and then allow me the space to feel it all out. They also cut the cord if it’s starting to strangle me.

**********

If I am honest, though, I struggle with being honest.

I hate being vulnerable or open or messy. I do not let people come too close too often.  It’s only in extreme cases that I call on a midwife for intimate help.

So, my prayer is that I allow people into my mess and see what kind of birth story comes out of this year.

Prayer: I pray that I will continue to allow people into the intimate, messy, unpredictable parts of my life and that I can do the same for others. I pray for bravery, courage, and extreme humility and confidence at the same time.

Blessings on all of you, my future friends!

-Nicole

 

 

 

 

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