Who says?

Yesterday, I took a little drive.

I didn't mean to take a drive. It really all started because there is a bunch of construction going on in my neck of the woods and the only way I can leave my house is by way of one of several different detours. There is literally no direct route from my house to anywhere right now. It's fine. It's all fine. Everything is FINE.

Ahem.

Anyway, as I approached the detour, I had a sudden urge to detour from my detour.

I took a left and began a long, meandering drive through the south-iest roads of the South Hill. These are country roads I know like the back of my hand. They are the roads on which I learned to drive. Roads where even now you might drive your entire route and not pass a single other car. What a blessedly wonderful way to dip your toe into the world of gas and brake pedals, turn signals, and windshield wipers. And they are the very best roads for turning up the Billy Joel station and singing Scenes from an Italian Restaurant at the top of your lungs. Both when you are 16 and when you are 48....

I found myself getting a little giddy thinking about teaching Annie to drive on these very same roads. Not giddy in the sense that I am ready for that to happen. Sweet fancy Moses, no. Thank heaven we are still a couple of years away from that. But giddy knowing that she will get a chance to master some fundamental driving basics while being surrounded by nothing more than fields and the occasional deer before having to do anything INSANE like merge onto the Ballard Bridge. (Sorry, Seattle flashback.)

Seattle peeps, can I get an AMEN?!

Speaking of Amen....while on my detour of the detour I passed the Catholic Retreat center that has been there as long as I can remember. A little further up the road I saw a Sister out for a brisk morning walk. I slowed and made sure to veer as far over to the other side of the road as I could so as to give her plenty of space and not kick up any dust on her. As I approached her she gave me the brightest smile and a friendly wave.

I know my smile was equally bright because she made my day.

In that moment, I knew for sure my detour from the detour was a great idea.

Two years ago, my most fervent prayer was simply that this place would become Home. It seems strange now and even did then that Home was so elusive. I had been born and raised here. All of my immediate family is here. I didn't even have to learn my way around. There was so much that was familiar.

And yet.... My entire adult life had been spent somewhere else. A place that had become Home. I began my married life there, raised my kids there, had friends there, survived multiple remodeling projects there....

Sometimes I'm still not sure what made us hear and listen to the whisper that said, "It's time to go."

But we did. And we did. It was time to go.

I remember I kept hearing that line in the Rascal Flatts song:

I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong.

Even so, I miss it sometimes. And of course there are people I miss. (Home is always really about the people, right?)

But when I drive these country roads I've been driving for over thirty years... When I pick my daughter up from her bus, which happens to be at my sister's house, and tell her that "I'm just going to go in and talk to Aunt Val for a minute" (a minute, riiiiight....)... When I drive past the McDonalds in Lincoln Heights where I spent a ridiculous number of Friday nights hanging out with my high school friends... When I just "pop downtown" not worrying about time of day or traffic... When I am able to see nieces and nephews on their birthdays, or just because.... When I realize that my own daughter is herself becoming a "Spokane girl".... And when those first snowflakes fall and we are reminded once again that we won't be traveling for Christmas because Christmas is here, and we are here, and...well.....honestly....

I marvel to myself... literally marvel.... I. Live. HERE. 

Who says you can't go Home again?

A Spokane childhood was nothing if not fancy. 

What if?

"Why, sometimes I've believed as many as 

six impossible things before breakfast."

~Alice in Wonderland

If you are into personality assessments and jazz like that then you have probably heard of the Enneagram. If not, just suffice to say it's one of those tests where you answer a bajillion questions about what you "most likely" or "least likely" think, or believe, or say, or do, and then it gives you a number as to your personality type.

I'm an Enneagram 9.

I've taken various versions of the Enneagram multiple times and I am always, always a Nine.

I really don't know why I keep taking it because when I read the description of a Nine it's exactly me. I mean, like...wow, that's me. So maybe I keep taking it because I want to see if the test is fallible, or if maybe on any given day I might be less Nine-like than other days.

So far, nope.

I'm as Nine-iest as you can get.

Here is a brief description of Nines:

Nines are accepting, trusting, and stable. They are usually creative, optimistic, and supportive, but can also be too willing to go along with others to keep the peace. They want everything to go smoothly and be without conflict, but they can also tend to be complacent, simplifying problems and minimizing anything upsetting. They typically have problems with inertia and stubbornness. At their Best: indomitable and all-embracing, they are able to bring people together and heal conflicts.

Basic Fear: Of loss and separation

Basic Desire: To have inner stability "peace of mind"

Key Motivations: Want to create harmony in their environment, to avoid conflicts and tension, to preserve things as they are, to resist whatever would upset or disturb them.

"They typically have trouble with inertia..." That makes me laugh out loud every time. You know what a Nine's root sin is? SLOTH! Something I've been saying about myself long before I ever even heard of the Enneagram. In fact, I consider the sloth my spirit animal.

(And the fact that I say that with pride might mean I have leaned in a bit too much to my Nine-ness).

So, now that you know way too much about me and my peace-loving, conflict-avoidant, abundantly Nine-like ways, you may have every reason to disregard everything I'm about to say. 

You may read what comes next and think, "Well....yeah....but this is really just because you want everyone to get along, and don't like people fighting, and can't handle tension, and conflict, and hysteria."

You'd be right. 

However, it's also because I want people to be able to get along, and coexist peacefully, and allow others their dignity, and still be able to laugh together at the end of the day.

Oh, wait. That's basically the same thing.

Okay, you are still right. 

BUT....because I do know what it's like to feel all angsty and twisty and ragey inside, and because I really don't believe that is a healthy place to set up camp and hang out for too long, I have a suggestion for anyone who would like to take a break from Camp Frowny Face.

Before I share this, please know I'm really not referencing anything specific in today's world, politics, celebrity romances, or my own personal relationships. This is a technique that can be used in any number of situations and I've been known to employ it multiple times in a single day. I mean, that's kind of exhausting when that happens, but I'm just saying that while you might be inclined to think I'm writing about specific current events, I'm really not. This is just something I have been thinking about and today was the day I overcame my inertia long enough to sit down at the keyboard and write it out. 

That's how any of my blog posts happen. And why they are so infrequent.

The inertia is real, my friends.

Anywhooooo....Here is what I do when I feel myself slipping into that place where I cannot understand how anyone could possibly see this situation, or issue, or event, or person, or concept, or belief...any differently than I do. 

We've all been there. Somewhere in our heads every sentence starts with, "Who in their right minds would _______________?!" Or, "How can anyone think that ________________?!" Or, "I don't want anything to do with anyone who thinks __________________!!"

And we start mentally dividing people into camps. Of course we ourselves are sitting over here at Camp Always Right, while all of those other misguided souls are sitting at Camp Stupid People. 

Maybe you are more diplomatic and don't actually call them Stupid People. Maybe you even like or love some of those Stupid People but secretly seethe knowing they think ____________. But the bottom line is we have usually put masking tape down the center of this universal room we all live in and... lo and behold we happen to be on the side of all that is good and righteous, and everyone else is....over there.

I'm not being judgey because I do this too.

It's kinda human nature. 

Okay, enough meandering and over-explaining. Let me get to the trick.

It's great because it's only five words so it is really easy to remember. 

When you feel like you just can't deal one second longer with those people or that person who think(s) differently than you do, say these five words....

What if I am wrong?

Sit with that for a second. Or a minute. Or five minutes.

Don't start justifying or talking back to yourself or making mental counterarguments.

Just ask the question and sit with it. 

Then, take a trip down that imaginary alternate path. Envision what being wrong might look like. If you can't fathom any possible way you could be wrong in the big picture, is there something smaller you could consider? Is there one piece of the puzzle you could take out of the larger equation and study it differently?

Is there one small thing, or idea, or concept, or "truth" you could flip on its head and truly explore the idea of discovering you were wrong?

And if you were wrong, what then?

This can be painful. I've done this with some of my most deeply held beliefs. I've done this in situations where I felt wounded and irrefutably wronged (at least in my own mind). I've done this with my faith and it took days to recover from the sloth-fest that ensued as a result.

It's not easy to do it right.

But it's also the easiest thing in the world to do to get yourself unstuck.

I'm not saying that this will or even should change what you ultimately believe to be right or wrong. But what it might change is how you feel about the people or person you disagree with. When you make room for other perspectives, even just a little, you make room for the possibility of understanding...and maybe even, peace. 

For me, this is an exercise in humility. It is challenging myself to remember that I do not hold the key to all of life's truths and answers. I am not in possession of a crystal ball that allows me to see into the minds and hearts of others. I am human, and fallible, and limited, and self-absorbed, and short-sighted, and stubborn, and lazy.....and sometimes I. am. wrong.

It also reminds me how much I hope that when I am wrong, or other people think I am wrong, that those who love me will still always give me the benefit of the doubt and believe the best of me rather than the worst. 

I could be wrong right now and this is a terrible idea to suggest to someone else.

If I am, I'm sorry.

You don't have to do this.

Plan B is grab your favorite chips, adult beverage, something sweet, and a cozy blanket, and then watch Elf.

That should work, too. 

When all else fails....