Empty boxes

Today, I cut up all the boxes that my chicks have lived in since April. On Monday, all five chickens miraculously became best friends. After a month of careful introducing and monitoring, something finally clicked (clucked?), and they have been peaceably living together outside ever since.

And we were left with empty boxes inside.

I have been over the moon that they are happy living outside, free ranging, with the space to fly and run. And for Sadie - our sweet first chicken - to finally have a flock and friends to cuddle with and cluck at.

I realized today, five days after they last came inside, that I didn't realize how temporary the arrangement of the past four months had been. It seemed like we would always have chicks in the living room, or in the back bedroom, or in the basement. We developed a system for quickly cleaning up and sanitizing if they pooped when we were holding them. We checked on them before we left for work and immediately when we got home. (Actually, that hasn't changed. It's just that now they are in the yard.)

But now, as long as they all stay healthy, we probably won't have chickens in the house for years. We are at our limit with five, so we won't be getting new chicks every spring.

It made me think of life stages that I have yet to experience. Friends with infants and toddlers who are just sort of getting by, longingly remembering when they picked up a room and it stayed clean for days, or when they could drink their coffee while it was hot. My parents dropping me off at college with tears in their eyes as they got into the car, three instead of four. The video I saw of the woman who lives in a nursing home that also houses a preschool: she looked at the little ones running around and said to no one in particular, "It just goes by so fast."

Days pass and feel long and ordinary, but then a moment happens, a moment that feels surprising, but really you have been slowly coming upon it for a long time, hour by hour, day by day. I think these moments are a particular kind of gift. They illuminate how far we have come or not come and suddenly we have the rare insight of perspective. 

To my mom, on Mother's Day

Dear Mom,

I saw this quote this morning on Facebook and it expressed something that I've felt for a long time. And when I learned that the daughter of the mother-daughter duo who founded Mother's day thought it was very silly for children to sign their name to a card with someone else's sentiments, I knew that I wanted to write this for you, to tell you about this.

When I am rolling out pie or cookie dough, it is as if I am rolling the dough, but behind me is you, and your hands are also rolling out the dough. And behind you is Grandma, and her hands are also rolling out the dough, and behind her is Grandma King, and her hands are also reaching through time and we are all rolling out the dough together.

But it's not just the rolling pin. It happens when I am cutting rhubarb in your yard that came from Grandma's house and before that was planted at Great-Grandma King's house, or when I am folding napkins for a dinner party, or when I am cutting flowers from my yard.

And when our car pulled over on the side of a winding mountain road in the Dominican Republic at a roadside flower stand, you were there, in me, as I identified hydrangeas, petunias, snowball bushes and more. Or when I was in the hotel in Nairobi, and they had a fuchsia bush-lined path to the patio, our feet walked it together.

The first time my friend came over and was upset about something so far outside of the scope of my experience, we all sat together; and I watched you. I learned one of the most valuable lessons: how to be with someone who is suffering when you don't have any answers.

I think that intuition, or mom-tuition as we call it, is innate, but it's also cultivated. And you've passed on from your mom what she received from her mom, what she received from her mom, and back so many generations of strong and wise women that it's almost dizzying to think about.

Earlier today, you had climbed up on a high ladder to look at a light bulb. You said,"You guys make me feel brave and strong and safe." It was funny to me, because that's how you make us feel too.

I was going to write in you card, but I just didn't have enough room. I know we usually keep things funny when we give cards in this family, so let me also share that when I am about to "Wicks" someone, you are also there, in the pranking. (Even when it's you who are getting pranked.) Or when I am somewhere and I realize that it is a special and spectacular moment, and no one is photographing it, so I step up. Or when I realize that I really need to eat a bowl of cereal for lunch.

Maybe sometime we can print this, and stick it in the card. Until then. happy mother's day, and let's go throw an egg at Ralph. 

I had an eating disorder. (And how I found the psychologist who helped me.)

Let me start here: I think it's probably close to impossible to make it to adulthood with a healthy relationship with food. As far as I always knew, the conversation around eating disorders revolves around two main disorders: anorexia and bulimia.

But about 5 years ago, I knew there was something wrong with me. I had gone from being someone who never worried about her weight or really thought too much about food, to the opposite of this. It started while I was living in Spain, with few close friends and a lot of alone time. I frequently would eat until I felt sick. I would secretly buy food and hide it in my room or in the back of the pantry so that no one knew how much I was eating. I called my mom and would cry to her about how painfully full I was, and how lonely and just generally anxious.

Because binging alone was never something I'd learned about as an eating disorder, I figured I didn't need to seek help unless I made myself throw up. (Word of advice - if you think you might need help, get it, even if it doesn't quite fit your expectations of a condition.)

I moved back home at the end of the school year and moved back in with my family. I reconnected with lots of friends, and found a job that I loved. I was no longer lonely, and a lot of the stresses from the year before faded away. But I still continued to binge. I tried going on a diet plan, which helped some, but not a lot. Being around people helped... but as soon as I was alone, I went straight for the fridge.

[A note about weight - I am a genetically small-framed person and I was exercising a lot. So, though I did gain weight, I was still well within a healthy weight for my height.]

 So finally one day in the spring of 2011, I found a self-screening test online. I resonated with a part that said, "Underneath obsessive dieting, disordered eating and body image disturbance, there is a lack of self worth." I cried, and then I wrote an email to two wise women from my church. The subject was "not really sure who to email..." I began like this:

"I'm not really sure how to begin. This is a very strange email for me to write. Getting straight to the point, I think I have an eating disorder and I think I need help dealing with it and I don't know where to go next. For over a year now, I have struggled to manage my emotions in a way that doesn't involve cramming food into my mouth...."

Both women responded within a few days. I got connected with another woman who had also experienced this. [Shout out - if you're struggling with this and you need someone to talk about it with, I would love to be that person.] Everyone encouraged me to seek professional counseling. I got a few names, and also did my own research using this site. I called them and interviewed them. I left messages and noted their response times. If they were a "Christian counselor", I asked them what that meant - I had a lot of friends who prayed for me, I wanted someone who was going to do a lot more that that. I asked what a typical session would be like with them.  I asked about their hours. I asked them if they had experience working with someone with an eating disorder and how those people had faired. Because I was still within a year of completing a capstone psychology class, I nerdily asked them what modalities they used. I asked if they took my insurance. But more than anything, I used these questions to feel out if I would be comfortable talking to them about what felt like my deepest, darkest secrets.

And that's how I met Marilyn. There was something about our conversation that reminded me of other mentors I'd had... Plus she took insurance and could see me at 4pm. (the only weekday time I was available.) So I booked an appointment, and began seeing her weekly for the next... well to be honest, I don't really remember how long I saw her. It might have been a year, it might have only been six months. We started easily, talking about what my world was like - with me telling her about some basic information - my job, my family, where I lived, my friendships, then moved on to talk about eating. But it turns out that my eating disorder was really just the way I coped with anxiety... and I had a lot of anxiety. So we talked about that. I cried, I laughed, I had profound realizations.  

Toward the end of our weekly sessions, I asked, "How do I know when I'm done?" She answered, "Well, you don't ever have to be 'done'. Maybe you'll want to change to every 4-6 weeks. Or maybe you'll feel like you don't have anything else you need to talk about with me. But you can always call me and come back in."

And so I do. I've seen her a couple of times over the past few years to talk about things when I start to feel overwhelmed and find that I don't have resources to handle it on my own. I saw her this last week. I had a list of things I wanted to talk to her about, and we covered them in the first half hour. 

The thing is, we all have stuff that we can't handle. And sometimes, our people who love us also don't know how to help us handle it. And for me, that's where seeing a psychologist or psychiatrist or social worker can help. And there's no shame in it. Life is beautiful and life is hard. 

I want to say one more thing - after I started to set up these supports - the woman who had also experienced it and meeting regularly with one of the people I first initially emailed, I also got real with my friends. Caleb and I weren't dating yet, but I called him up and told him about it. I told several other friends as well. And naming it and telling people... it helped. It made it feel less scary and less shameful. It let all those people who cared about me ask questions that were actually helpful. Culturally, I'll always need to be practicing and re-learning healthy, balanced eating, because we get a lot of mixed messages about it. But I will also ever advocate for counseling if you get too far off track.

Conversations in the jasmine

I saw a picture of a friend today while I was scrolling through Faceboook. She was with her husband and they were celebrating a birthday.

I remember having long talks with this friend almost ten years ago. My heart was freshly broken; hers was broken, but healing. We talked about love, God, relationships, friendships, trusting. She was talking about this friend who was starting to become more than a friend, and it was scary and new and she was and wasn't ready for it.

Meanwhile, I was trying to find hope in the face of all my plans falling apart. She'd been through it, so we talked about it, as we walked through evergreen labyrinths, surrounded by pomegranate trees and fragrant jasmine. I wished I could fast forward, to know if things would be okay, to know how things would work out.

Because that's always the question, when things fall apart. Will I ever be okay again?

Even if we know the answer is yes, the uncertainty looms over us when our bodies aren't cooperating,  when the finances fall apart, when we find out we have to move away from loved ones, or any of those times when the work to get to yes seems insurmountable.

But because this is a reflection, we can fast forward. My friend married that guy who was starting to become more than a friend. And even though it took a while, I was okay again. And the things I really wanted to work out... they didn't happen. But that's okay because that made space for what actually happened to happen. And what actually happened was pretty darn wonderful. And more importantly, I grew. Growing doesn't always feel good, but it's beautiful.

So as I scrolled past that photo of my friend this morning, and gave it a "like", I was grateful. Grateful because those conversations in the park seem so long ago. And grateful because I am still learning all of those things: love, God, relationships, friendships, trusting - and still having conversations about them.

Maybe I need to plant some jasmine... 

easy and light

It's the quiet moment of the morning, where the hazy light peeks through the windows and no one is awake except Sadie and me. (And that's only because I woke her up.)

I didn't sleep super well last night... I woke up sometime in the wee hours of the morning with anxiety, which feels like caffeine jitters in my body (Eyes wide open, energy pulsing, though not the kind of energy I'd like to have.) I couldn't really put a name on why I was anxious, so I just did the things that I do to try calm my body... praying, counting the inhales and exhales, snuggling up to Caleb, getting up and walking around. I think because of all of that, I have the beginnings of what might be a headache; though I did fall back asleep for a bit.

Despite all that, this still morning is leading me towards gratitude. Why? There are a lot of possible explanations, like "I have a lot to be thankful for", which is true.

But really, I want to be thankful, because why not? It's like another practice I've been trying on with people in my life, thanks to some good advice. Assume everyone has the best intentions. It's really a lot harder than it sounds, because we tell ourselves stories about everyone from the guy who cut us off in traffic, to our neighbor who hasn't trimmed her yard in weeks*. But, if you can honestly assume that all these people have the best intentions, the posture that this puts you in is easier and lighter on the soul. And if you need to confront someone, doing it from this place will keep both of you from being on the defensive.

So that's why I'm going to keep practicing (and it really is practicing because I am a very beginner) these two things.

*Obviously, if you are in a situation where you fear for your safety, you should follow that instinct. I'm just talking about regular stressors. 

FAQs about our chicken Sadie

We got a lil chicken named Sadie! Actually her full name is Sadie Luz, but not many people ask us that.

Here are some questions that we have been asked a lot:

1. Where did you get Sadie?
Our neighbor has had chickens for a while... actually he's had one chicken for a year. Last year, he bought two, but pecking order is real, and one killed the other. This year, he got ten new chicks... nine were the same variety, and Sadie is a "chicken mutt". All the other chicks picked on her, and he was worried. When he found out Caleb and I had been thinking about getting chickens, he decided to just give her to us.

2, Is it a chicken or a rooster? Also, don't you live in the city?
We can't have roosters where we live but chickens are ok! Our neighbor bought only females.

3. What are you going to do with her?
Besides just being adorable and a delight to have around (hence her middle name, which means "light" in Spanish), she is going to lay eggs and we will eat the eggs. The eggs will not turn into chicks because we don't have a rooster. Also, chickens apparently love eating mice. Win!

4. Are you going to eat her?
Well, I'm a vegetarian (and not that I ate meat before, but I feel even more committed to it now), so this question is a little weird to me, especially from people who know that I'm a vegetarian. At this time, Caleb does not have plans to eat her. Chickens usually lay eggs fairly regularly for 2 years, so we'll have to see what her life looks like after that.

5. Where does she live?
She's still a little baby, we think she's only about 3 weeks old, so she lives in a box in our living room with a light to keep her warm; but we take her out and play with her a lot, because chickens are social animals. Caleb's building her a coop, and then she'll live in our backyard.

6. Only one chicken?
We want to get three more! Our coop will have 4 laying boxes, so we could have even more than four if we wanted. However, since we don't know much about Sadie or our neighbor's chickens, she needs to be isolated from other chickens for at least 30 days to make sure she doesn't have a chicken disease. Any new chicks we get, unless they're from a hatchery, would also need to be isolated for 30 days in different air space.

7. What does she eat?
She mostly eats chicken feed, but also eats bugs, grass, clover, weeds, and anything that's in our yard. (We're all "Where did all this tiny bite-size trash come from?!")

Here are some things I didn't know about chickens but do know now:
- They sneeze.
- Their feet look like dinosaurs and are really warm and also have toenails.
- They like to cuddle (at least Sadie does), but only on their own terms!
- They don't have teeth and have to eat grit to help them digest stuff.
 - They can be house-trained. (I haven't done this, but have watched Sadie enough to think it would be pretty easy.)
- They like to sleep while roosting (sitting on a branch).
- They take dirt. dust baths to get the oil out of their feathers and it's so relaxing that they looked stoned afterwards.
- They make super cute peeping noises.
- I don't know if this is all chickens, but Sadie likes to lay on her side and it's really awkward and adorable.

She will sometimes put her head down and spread the top wing. 

Simple

I've been insanely in love for almost five years.

And there is not a day that goes by that I'm not incredibly grateful.