A list for Friday, September 12

"So much time and so little to do. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it."

Greetings from me and this lovely horchata latte!

Anchor Island Coffee, Troost Ave, KCMO

I almost decided not to write here today because of the length of my to-do list. I leave this evening for a weekend of residential classes for my Anglican Studies program and still have some assignments to complete on top of the regular life stuff that just keeps happening, apparently. It’s always something, isn’t it? But maintaining the routine feels important so in lieu of an essay this week, I offer you an annotated list:

• Class Reading
  I’ve been reading The Lord as Their Portion by Elizabeth Rapley for my Christian Spirituality class this weekend. It is long and at times dry, but it has been fascinating to read how history has repeated itself throughout the centuries when it comes to how religious communities align or distance themselves from the political powers of their day. I wrote ”let’s go girls” in the margins when I read this about the group of holy women, the beguines, in the middle ages: “From the beginning, experts in canon law had had reservations about these women, unharnessed as they were by any rule or obligation of obedience to higher authority. As long as the women maintained themselves in exemplary piety, virtue, and modesty, it was difficult to condemn their form of life. But nothing remains perfect forever, and soon beguines here and there overstepped the boundaries of female propriety, walking abroad in an undisciplined way, flaunting their piety, annoying their neighbors.” Unharnessed, overstepping gender boundaries, annoying neighbors? Sign me up. (I jest… only a little)

• A Day in the Life
  This week at work I was presented with a challenge that I had not yet encountered in eleven years of chaplaincy: I was asked to help a patient dispose of a body part they had been given after said body part was surgically removed from their body. They had hoped to bury it, but alas, most state law prevents the willy-nilly burying of body parts. So we had a brief but meaningful prayer service and returned the body part to the facility whence it came to be respectfully disposed of there. I found this whole process delightful: the research, the conversations between professionals, the reminder that one’s body and its parts are a part of us and so it results in a strange grief when it is taken, even if we had not given it much thought before. This need was about more than a finding a resting place for a spare part. It was about personhood in all its forms, and I felt so happy the social worker knew she could come to me with such a request. And now you know who to call should you ever find yourself in a similar situation. I got you.

• And… she’s talking!
  Over the summer one of my children received what, for me, was a long-awaited autism diagnosis. She also has a separate, earlier diagnosis of selective mutism. After a summer of speech therapy, her confidence has grown by leaps and bounds and she’s been speaking to most everyone (sorry, Fr. Steven) in recent weeks! I have been caught off guard on multiple occasions, like when she said to me that she would tell her teacher something, or when she ran up to her soccer coach to talk about her halloween costume, or when she ordered her own ice cream cone, or when she successfully completed her vision test for the first time (every other attempt has resulted in tears of epic proportions). What precious gifts of hopefulness. If she never spoke outside of our home we would figure that out. But it seems like she has wanted to speak all this time and was simply stuck. The support and information we’ve received this summer are allowing her to show her sparkle everywhere she goes. Alongside her self-awareness and growth, I am having to do a lot of that on my own as I recognize what she needs from me (and what she doesn’t). It is hard work, but this week I am so encouraged. I asked her what she thinks of speech therapy and she said, “Kirsten is helping me get braver and braver.” I said, “So you’re feeling brave?” She said, “NO. I’m getting braver. I’m practicing.” And isn’t that the best any of us can do? Keep practicing?

• Sorry for the green texts

  A few weeks ago at a diocesan meeting with my Bishop, she shared the following formula for change: C = DS x FS x V > R which means “Change happens when your dissatisfaction, knowledge of first steps, and vision are greater than your resistance.” This formula gave me the lens to finally break up with my iPhone, and two weeks ago I replaced it with an older Android smartphone. I have toyed with the idea of getting a “dumb phone” for some time, but the reality is too much of my world requires apps, AND I would miss texting my friends. My phone needing a costly repair finally pushed me to make a decision after months of hemming and hawing. This substack post, Quitting Your Phone is Actually Easy, suggested a solution that felt doable to me. I also related to her social-emotional reasons for quitting. I don’t want to feel distracted by my family when I’m numbing out on my phone. My phone is the distraction, not my real, physical life. It has been an adjustment to change operating systems and move to a slower device, and that friction has been part of my success, I think. I don’t want to spend as much time on it because I’m frustrated by it. I’ve avoided putting any entertainment apps except for Spotify and Libby. There rest are things like maps, WhatsApp, my kids’ school pickup app, and calendar. The Before Launcher is truly life changing. Happy to chat if you need a similar push. We do not have to be glued to tiny computers all the time. We really don’t.

Next on the list is writing on the origins of Mothering Sunday in the UK for my book and then writing my homily for Sunday. Then working on the budget, then cleaning the bathrooms, then packing for my weekend… and, and, and. (lol I will not make it to the bathrooms, not a chance)

I’d love to hear from you: Text me, comment, or email me with an annotated version of something that’s on your list this weekend, please?

All shall be well,
Janette
book word count: 6,650/50,000