Joy, Laughter, and Unconditional Love

Somehow, I can’t stop telling him about my family.

From our first conversations, to our first date, to last night on his couch as we were playing 20 questions. I always end up circling back to them; to my sister, who I spent two years missing while she was living overseas; to my mother, who I leave him on the weekends to visit; to my big family gatherings every holiday, how laughter and joy fills those days to the brim.

We ask each other about what our perfect days look like—I tell him every day spent with my family is a perfect one.

We are right in the peak of the holiday season, where dreams of home-cooked meals and sitting around a fire with loved ones play through our minds and the songs on the radio. Living close to home, where I can see my parents every weekend, take my grandma out for dinner whenever she’s willing, I would have thought this kind of holiday-induced homesickness would pass me by.

Instead I find myself counting down the days until December 25th, eager to reunite with the people who make me, me.

***

The people who love me would tell you that I have a tendency to get swept away by life.

I invest myself entirely into a new job, or a new project, or a new person. I set goals I aim to achieve. I spend a lot of hours figuring out what I’m not doing enough of. I spend a month going to the same bar every weekend—the next month, I stay in every night.

I work in extremes, for better or for worse. And whether I feel like I’m chasing the right paths, or realize I’ve spent too long going down the wrong ones, there is only ever one time where I step back, strip all the pieces of my life down, and go back to what’s important.

Joy. Laughter. Unconditional love.

Family.

When my family gets together, telling stories, giving updates, everything seems less monumental than it does when I’m on my own.

No, I’m no longer with that guy. Yes, I got laid off from that job. Last week she was declared cancer free. Two months ago, my best friend moved back into the state.

Good or bad, right or wrong, when I come back to these people, there is always a baseline of unconditional love. They don’t care about my Instagram or the number of followers on my blog. They don’t care that I haven’t gotten to where I want to go yet. They sing my praises for every little victory and pray over my sorrows every time I’ve been knocked down.

They are my constants in a world where so much shifts, so often.

***

A lot has been shifting for me lately.

When I look back on 2017, I see so many different versions of myself. Hopeful. Joyful. Grief-stricken. Heartbroken. Stressed. Content. Ambitious. Exhausted. This year tested all of who I am, and at the same time handed me experiences I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have.

But no matter the phase, I always return to my rocks. Find myself in the middle of a group of people sat around a table, unconcerned about the changes in my life because to them, I will always remain myself.

The youngest cousin. The shortest granddaughter. A family member worthy of the same amount of love day in and day out, no matter where her life took her or left her behind.

Whether in your friends or your dogs, your significant other or your family members, that is what I wish for you this holiday season. That no matter where you are, or what this year has handed you, you can spend the next few weeks going back to the people who know you at your root. You can let go, strip your life down, and remain standing with only the things you still want.

Joy. Laughter. Unconditional love.

The people who make up your own version of family.

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The End of An Era: Saying Goodbye to Windrose

Hi friends,

Announcement (sounds so formal, doesn’t it?):

It's the end of an era.

I’ve decided that, after nearly 8 years of telling stories of navigating life, this season of Windrose is drawing to a close.

Even Here: Words for When You're Wandering

When I was 22 years old, I visited the desert for the first time.

A metaphorical desert, if we’re getting technical.

I was fresh out of college, starry-eyed and eager to begin my post-grad life. I had big ‘ole me-centered dreams: a shiny, brag-worthy PR job in the music industry! An apartment with an exposed brick wall that (somehow) would fit an upright piano! A committed relationship with a kind, goofy man!

I got exactly none of those things.

To summarize an entire year’s worth of emotion: I was devastated.

When Life Feels Small

I hit a car in a parking garage once.

Nothing bad, really, just a ding in the door from a turn cut just a little too tight.

Truthfully, my car suffered the brunt of the bunt. But the other car was a nice one. I don’t remember the make or model—I’m not really a car person—but I do remember it was a convertible. Someone dropped a lotta dollars on this depreciating piece of metal, and I had just chipped paint off the gleaming door. Big yikes.

All because I was in a rush to get to my doctor’s appointment.

Practicing (and Failing at) Grace on the Road

Last week, I got stuck in a traffic jam on the interstate.

I was in a line of cars needing to merge into the bedlam of backed-up vehicles. We had an organized system in place, me and the cars in front of me: a car merged, then the car behind that car merged, and so on. I made my way into a gap between two 18-wheelers, neatly following the rules like the good girl I am.

But then—l'horreur!—what did the cars behind me do? Speed down the on-ramp in an effort to get ahead by usurping the follow-the-leader system of merging we had all tacitly agreed upon.

Teacher, they’re cutting!

I was… not happy.

Anne Lamott writes, “Sometimes the movement of grace looks like letting other people go first.”

That’s nice.

Here’s what I did instead.

Developing Community: Moving Towards a Space of Vulnerability, Intentionality, and Diversity

My parents moved me in and helped me explore this new city for a few days, but eventually this new place had to become my own. I tried out the coffeeshops (which didn’t compare to the ones back home) and became acquainted with people at my seminary. I found interest in what I was learning and “plugged in” wherever I could.

Quickly, however, I began to realize a need in myself for deeper community. I longed to be around people with similar mindsets. Mindsets that didn’t just recognize but acted on vulnerability, intentionality, and diversity. These types of mindsets had been prevalent in the community I was around at my undergrad, so I was puzzled as to why I was overlooking them here.

No Man Is An Island: An Ode to Our Neediness

The last few years of my life—so basically my Full Grown Adult Years—have been a reinforced lesson in this one simple yet slightly-jarring fact: we need each other. I mean, need-NEED each other.

“No man is an island,” says Thomas Merton, and my bae C.S. Lewis backs this up further by writing, “We need others physically, emotionally, intellectually; we need them if we are to know anything, even ourselves.”

We’re meant to be needy, but why is it so hard to acknowledge and accept this?

Say What You Need

Now maybe it wasn’t your family or your upbringing that made you neglect voicing your needs. Maybe it was a toxic relationship or a difficult work environment. Maybe it was someone who told you that your needs were selfish or that the desires of your heart didn’t matter.

Whatever it was, I urge you to identify those people or experiences or situations and start using that knowledge to change.

New Things, Better Things (A Reprise): Words for When You're Stuck in the Past

But while I’ve tried to convince myself that I am looking forward, staring straight at the wide open interstate ahead, I spent so many months still sneaking peeks into the rearview mirror every few seconds, not quite accepting that the road behind me is, in fact, behind me.

But this story isn’t the whole of my story, only a minor plotline amongst the greater. Even so, ignoring it won’t erase it like the stroke of the delete key. It may be a minor plotline, but it is a plotline woven tight around the greater story of my life for several years now.

I can’t ignore it.

A Beginner's Guide to the Enneagram

Maybe you, like me, have become curious about the Enneagram because it is popping up everywhere in conversations and on your social media timeline. Maybe you know everything there is to know and have become quite fluent in Ennea-lingo (you even know that there are sub-types!).

Maybe this is the first time you’re ever hearing about this weird test and you’ve spent the last four paragraphs trying to figure out how to even pronounce the word “Enneagram” (In-ee-a-gram, for the record).

No matter where you’re at, we can all use some guidelines when it comes to personality tests, because none of us are immune to over-identifying, self-shaming, and becoming a walking personality-test-fulfilling prophesy. So, without further ado, here are my dos and don’ts of Enneagram-ing.

The Battle to Overcome Your Rejection

Rejection is an issue I’ve had to wrestle hard with over the last three years. Every time Rejection and I had to face off in the boxing arena, I would always end up slammed and pinned down. In boxing, you have ten seconds to get yourself up before the game is over. For me, it took months before I could even peel my head off the floor.

How to Respond to Someone Else's Grief

But this post isn't about my own grief. It's not about the tears I've cried, or the questions I've asked. It’s not about my own days where getting out of bed felt too hard.

It's about a different side of the fight. It's about your mom's grief when she loses her college roommate. And your best friend after she has a miscarriage. It’s about all the people you encounter, telling you about their grief.

So Lonely I Could Die: What I Have Learned About Loneliness

The night it happens I’m alone. Afternoon slides into darkness, a day gone without notice. I put on a rom-com. I paint my nails. I wait.

I’m jonesing for junk food, so I walk up over the hill and get fries and a shake at the Park Street McDonald’s. On my way home through the Common, it starts to pour. My sandals take on water like a sponge. I squelch up to the third floor and towel off. The fries are cold and the milkshake is cloyingly sweet. I regret ever wanting them. I am still alone.

RelationshipsAmanda BeadlescombDecember 17, 2017FeaturedComment

Joy, Laughter, and Unconditional Love

It's a birthday sale!

>>> USE CODE HBD2US AT CHECKOUT TO GET $5 OFF YOUR PURCHASE OF TWO (OR MORE) PRINT ISSUES OF WINDROSE. ONE COPY FOR YOU, ONE COPY FOR A FRIEND!

>>> DIGITAL COPIES ON SALE FOR $5

>>> RECEIVE THIS FREE AWAKE MY SOUL DOWNLOADABLE PRINT WITH ANY WINDROSE ORDER

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