Financial Security

In Search of a More Immediate Reward

Posted on by noemikjames / 27 Comments

I read a couple of months ago (in what I think was a NYT article I’m too lazy to search for) that people who recognize the more immediate benefits of exercise are way more likely to work out than people whose only motivations are long term goals. In other words, the person who counts on that runner’s high is more likely to pound the pavement than the person who is logging miles to lose weight.

This makes perfect sense to me. I’m work out for my mental well-being more than for the physical health benefits. When I’m tired, and pretty sure I’m getting sick, and the last thing I want to do is get on the elliptical (like, tonight, for example), I haul my sorry ass on and get moving because I KNOW I will feel better immediately if I do. I have faith that I will feel better because I have thousands of personal experiences to assure me it’s true, despite my body trying to persuade me that it’s not. And usually I only have to start working out for about five minutes to recognize that I do, in fact, feel better.

I was realizing that this might be part of why I struggle so hard to stay on a budget. The goals are all situated in the future, and there are no immediate rewards (at least not that I have identified) to help me make the hard choice in the present. When there is no immediate reward to tempt me away from the instant gratification of spending, it’s hard to conjure the willpower to do it.

My son started day care two weeks ago, so we’re officially in our tightest longterm financial situation to date. Between the increases at my son’s day care (from what we were paying when my daughter attended) and the monthly fees for my daughter’s after care program, our child care expenses are almost $600 a month more than what we were previously spending. The good news is that I will be getting a 9% raise over three years. The bad news is that CalSTRS increased our required contributions by 2%, so the final raise will only be 7% and I won’t start seeing it until the coming school year. I think my husband is due for another step increase around the time as well.

So there is a little light at the end of this tunnel, but for the time being it’s a narrow and restrictive tunnel and we have to spend wisely if we want to get through it. Basically, I need to get a hold of my spending like yesterday.

And yet I still struggle with making unnecessary purchases.

Part of me want to put some very heavy restrictions in place because it’s the holidays and I know I could go fucking hog wild if I let myself. But part of me knows how good I am at explaining why a certain purchase is still allowed despite the restrictions. I also know how hard it would be for me to make myself a reasonable budget and stick with it. I haven’t ever managed to do that in my entire life.

BUT I NEED TO. We won’t have enough money if I don’t. This isn’t about a far-off financial goal, this is about having enough money to cover child care and buy groceries.

When I was first developing a savings strategy, I calculated how much money I’d have left after I paid for child care, groceries and bills and determined what I could budget in my weekly/monthly “wants” category. This included a pretty generous amount allotted for groceries and accounted for all the other long term bills I’m responsible for. I like the idea of having a set amount for “wants” and not splitting that category up into smaller subcategories like “eating out” or “clothes for the kids.” The reality is that almost everything I buy is really a “want,” and that is a shift in my thinking I desperately need to make. I got so caught up in why I should be able to get something despite my shopping ban this summer, but after reading All Your Worth, I realized that ultimately, all those purchases are “wants,”” not matter how well I can argue otherwise.

I also recognize that I need a way to break my habit of compulsive spending, so I’m setting one “restriction” for myself, and that is that I can’t buy anything in the want category until Sunday, because Sunday is the end of my “fiscal week” and at that point I’ll know how much is left in my “wants” budget to spend. (The one exception would be eating out.)

So I have a tentative budget and a tentative restriction and I hope I can actually stick to it. I just wish I could identify a source of immediate gratification from not buying stuff, so that I could dangle it when my compulsive inner voice is so skillfully leading me astray.

I thought a lot about resuming my practice of posting what I spend here, to wildly mixed conclusions. On the one hand, I KNOW it increases my accountability–I am way more inclined stay honest with you all than I am to stay honest with myself. On the other hand, this compulsive buying thing is a genuine problem for me, the kind of problem I would be working on with a professional if I had the resources to do so. Putting myself out there creates an incredible amount of stress for me, and I’m just not sure that the positives of accountability outweigh the negatives of the stress. So for right now I don’t have any definitive plans to post what I spend, though I’m toying with the idea of posting a  rough outline of my budget spending in each of the three categories (Needs, Wants, Savings), or at the very least sharing how much I went over, or stayed under, my “wants” budget (and maybe also groceries, because that is a spending category that can balloon quickly).

Tomorrow is Monday. I love starting things on Monday. Let’s see how I do.

Life

That Lingering Feeling of “I’m looking for something”

Posted on by noemikjames / 4 Comments

I have lost a LOT of things in my life. I’ve misplaced countless others. This means that I’ve spent A LOT of time looking for things.

So. Much. Time.

I’ve noticed that when I really get in the groove of looking for something, it’s hard to get out of that groove. Even after I’ve found the thing, I still approach a spot and thing, maybe it’s in here! I haven’t checked here! Even if I’ve already found it.

Am I the only one who does that? Gets so deep in the “I’m looking for something” groove that it takes almost 24 hours to shake it?

I will admit, that if I have found the thing, it’s such a relief when I remember that I’m not looking for it anymore. That part is kind of nice. Of course if I haven’t found the thing (the more likely scenario) it really bums me out.

It’s such a weird phenomena. It just shows how emotionally invested I get in finding things, the distress reverberates as it dissipates.

In case you’re wondering, I did find the purse with my really expensive sunglasses in it. And then, as an added bonus, I found my second pair of regular glasses behind a piece of furniture in my daughter’s room when I had to move it because she dropped something down there. They had been gone so long I wasn’t even looking anymore. A double win!

Uncategorized

The Tipping Point

Posted on by noemikjames / 4 Comments

We’ve reached the tipping point with stuff. It is all over the house, like every clothing drawer and toy bin just exploded. I no longer feel I can manage it and the minute I pick it up, it’s everywhere again.

A second purge is in order. I’m really excited to have a go at the house. I need to do some serious pruning or I might drown.

In two weeks I have the Monday and Tuesday before Thanksgiving off when my kids do not. I’m going to get so much done.

I just need to get through the next 17 days.

Friendship

Friendship Wanted

Posted on by noemikjames / 28 Comments

I’m feeling kind of frustrated with friend stuff.

The first half of the year I was on a mission to meet new friends and cultivate meaningful relationships. I joined a site that is basically match.com for meeting girlfriends and went on many a “blind date.” I went on a one-day friendship retreat whose only requirement was committing to five weekly get-togethers with the other women in the group. I reached out to friends that I’ve fallen out of touch with and made repeated efforts to see them. I made sure I was going out at least once a week, without my kids. I worked really, really hard to building worthwhile relationships. I put myself out there again, and again, and again.

Now, ten months later, I don’t feel like I have much to show for it. Half of the women who committed to the weekly meetings from the retreat never showed, not to ONE of them. I was the only woman who came to all six dinners. I did end up hitting it off with one of the women and I thought we were becoming friends, but she fell off the face the earth at the end of the summer and now I can’t get her to return my calls or texts. The friends I reconnected with still never reach out on their own. I’ve come to understand that I’m not as close with some of my long-time friends, that live far away but that I still try to stay in touch with, despite our storied pasts. Even with much focused and enthusiastic effort on the friend finding front, I don’t feel I have anything, really, to show for it.

It’s hard not to think there is something wrong with me, that either I’m not much fun to be around (too loud, too foul-mouthed, too distracted and/or oblivious in the moment, too inclined to over-share… oh and there’s that weird sound I make when I talk) or that my expectations of what people are willing and able to give (being the one to reach out or initiate once in a while) are too high. Probably it’s a little bit of both.

Or maybe it’s just that people don’t have enough time to make new friends. Everyone already seems to have enough, they can’t make the time and the space in their lives for yet another person. No one seems to need new friends like I do.

It’s hard to keep reaching out when no one else does. I stopped for awhile, because it was just becoming too much and I didn’t feel like I was getting back from my efforts what I was putting in. Recently I started trying again, and of the six people I reached out to, all six can’t really participate in a friendship right now

They are all very valid excuses. People are newly pregnant, sick and tired (at 40 after two months of trying, but I digress…), or their kid has swim team every night, or their son has soccer on weekend mornings now, or they got a new dog and need to bond, or they are dealing with big life transitions, or they are volunteering at a local non-profit until this even in a few months. These are all totally valid and understandable reasons to bow out of a “hey, want to get together anytime in the next two months” inquiry. I don’t take it personally, but their totally valid and understandable reasons for not being able to hang out don’t help me to find someone to hang out with.

I’m just tired. Tired of trying, and failing, to make meaningful friendships. If it weren’t for a few blogging friends that I text or email with, it would feel like I have no one to “talk to” about the important stuff in my life. Without them, I’d be completely and totally alone.

But they live far away and I can’t actually sit down and speak with them. Heck, I haven’t even heard one of their voices and she hasn’t heard mine. We don’t even know what we actually sound like (which is probably why she’s still friends with me–see above mention of talking too loud and making a weird sound while I do it).

Not that you have to know what someone sounds like to be close to them, but it is a different kind of friendship, the ones that exist solely in the ether. Sometimes I just really need to sit down across from someone and talk without touching my fingers to keys. (I’m sure it would surprise no one to learn that this bitch CAN TALK.)

I wrote a post like this once and it cost me the only truly meaningful friendship I’d had in a long time. I haven’t written anything like it in a while because I never want that to happen again. It can feel like I don’t have much else to loose, but I know that’s not true. I hope the people that are there for me, despite the great physical distance between us, know how important they are to me, and that I don’t take them for granted. I consider taking a few days off from work and meeting up with them all the time, but I know I don’t have the time or money (mostly it’s the money) to do that. And so I look to the people who live closer by, and find they don’t have the time for me either.

I just wish the people who do care, and do put in the time to cultivate friendships with me, didn’t live so damn far away.

{I know this comes off as a giant pity party, but I swear it’s not meant to be. I do feel down about this stuff, but honestly I don’t want to feel bad for myself, I just don’t now how to make this situation better. I tried REALLY hard to make new friends and it just isn’t happening and I don’t know what to do differently. If I could afford a therapist, this would be the number two topic of discussion after my marriage. I just wish someone could tell me how to find and keep friends.}

Parenting & Family

Week Two

Posted on by noemikjames / 6 Comments

We’re almost done with our son’s second week of daycare. Things are getting better. He doesn’t cry as hard, or long, when my daughter and I leave in the morning. He’s more excited to see his “friends” when he gets to school. He doesn’t spend all morning saying he wants to go to the park or the “backy-yard.” He’s still pretty grumpy in the early hours, but the whole thing feels manageable.

My husband is still getting used to getting himself ready with our son around and I’m still getting used to picking up two kids up from two different care providers (in the increasing darkness), but we’re both finding our grooves. I feel a lot of stress about how late I’m picking up the second kid, but I’m trying to let that guilt go, and I try really hard to pick each of them early once a week.

Last week was definitely hard on my husband and I, harder than either of us anticipated. We didn’t expect the ambivalence we felt about leaving our child in a group care setting. We figured we’d done all this before–at the same day care and with the same teachers!–surely this would not be much of an issue. We assumed we could side step our own emotional reckonings after three years processing these feelings with our first child.

Well, we were wrong. We did have emotional reckonings to deal with, and they were pretty intense. It turns out that just coming to terms with sending our first child to day care for the majority of her waking hours didn’t excuse us from the pain, guilt, and regret of sending our second child as well. The rose colored glasses we were viewing our past experience through didn’t help either.

And there are other factors complicating it. The fact that my daughter is now in Kindergarten, and I could be at home with just my son, for a large portion of the school day, transforms the idea of staying home into an enticing proposition. Two kids at home I can’t really handle, but one? That I could do. I might even enjoy doing it.

It doesn’t help that I’m as unenthusiastic about my job as I’ve ever been. I can’t shake the feeling that what I teach doesn’t even matter; it’s hard to feel like what I’m doing with my days is meaningful.

But being with my son would be meaningful. He’s my last child, and I want to soak up these final years of him being deliciously little. Instead I barely see him for two waking hours a day, and I spend those hours ferrying him from one nonnegotiable task to another. The only still, quite moments I get with him are the 15 minutes right before bedtime. It’s not enough.

But it has to be, because without uprooting our lives entirely, and moving away from our families, I have to work. Right now I have absolutely no say in the matter.

So yeah, this transition has been harder on me than I expected, though I did predict it would lay me out in ways I couldn’t foresee. I guess I just didn’t anticipate how intensely the wind would be knocked out of me when I went down.

Oh my sweet, sweet boy. I wish we could play in the backy-yard too.

Uncategorized

Snipped

Posted on by noemikjames / 19 Comments

Tomorrow my husband is getting snipped.

It is a little mind boggling to me that we’ve arrived at this place of knowing we don’t want to have anymore kids, especially when just three years ago we were desperate (or, I was desperate) to have a second.

Not a day that goes by without me taking a moment to actively thank the forces that be for my son, who has brought so much to my life.

And not a day that goes by without me feeling 100% sure that I do not want another kid.

Motherhood has been really hard for me. It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that the experience was not at all what I had expected. I’ve had to mourn the loss of that expectation and I think I’m finally at a place where I’ve accepted my experience for what it is, without lingering disappointment or regret.

My husband has mentioned to a few people why he’ll be out at the end of the week. Everyone has been incredulous that he’s making such a permanent decision so young. He doesn’t have an inkling of doubt. At 34 he knows that he doesn’t want anymore children. He is sure.

Sometimes I wonder if, in 5 or 10 years, I might want to have another. I can’t imagine I would, and I’m not concerned that I might, because I know that at 40 or 45 I won’t have a choice in the matter. Heck, I’ll probably already be going through menopause.

Honestly though, when I read about people with older kids who are starting all over again with a new baby I can’t even fathom what they are thinking (not just in why-would-they-do-that? kind of way, but also in the what-must-that-be-like? kind of way). Older kids are the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel–I have no desire to live these very-young-kid years again. At this point I’m clamoring to regain of sense of self that I lost five years ago and that I can’t imagine myself finding again until my kids are older and don’t look to me to meet every need.

I also have serious doubts that my marriage will make it through this first round with young kids, I would never want to put it through this again.

So no more kids for us, and Thursday we make that decision final. I must say, I am relieved, because if I were to become pregnant at this point, I’d have to make the hardest decision of my life, one I know my marriage couldn’t survive and one I doubt I could move on from myself.

I know how lucky I am, to have the family I always dreamed of. I don’t take my two children for granted, but I also know what I can handle and I know what I can’t. And a third kid is not something I can manage.

Snip, snip.

No-additives Diet

I Capitulate

Posted on by noemikjames / 31 Comments

I think my husband and I have had our last fight about the diet.

Because I can’t argue anymore. I just can’t.

The weight of it, it’s not something we can withstand. It’s breaking us down, tearing us apart. And it’s clear that on this, we won’t find a common ground. We won’t come to an agreement. We will never see eye to eye on this, and I’m tired of fighting.

We could probably drag this out for a few more tortured months, but eventually we would reach the same conclusion. It will save us all a lot of heartache if I just capitulate now.

So I am.

I can continue shopping as I have been, but if we’re not asking others to follow our lead, and if I hand the weekend grocery shopping reigns back to my husband, things will pretty much go back to the way they were before.

I’m not going to think too much about what we’ll do if our daughter’s behavior deteriorates. We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.

I guess those of you who suspected I’d abandon this new fad were right. I suppose this was inevitable.

I don’t feel the the relief I assumed would come from giving up, but there is a peace in it. I’m so tired of the fighting.

Life/Writing

So. Now what?

Posted on by noemikjames / 13 Comments

I wrote that post last night, and I was feeling fucking awesome after writing it. Like I could conquer the world.

And then, as I was opening Hulu to watch an episode of Arrow (yes, I’m a comic book hero inspired TV show junkie), a voice in my head whispered, you know you have to write another one for tomorrow, right?

Oh shit. Yes I do.

So I closed down Hulu and came back here.

And realized this might have been a mistake. A massive mistake.

I even wondered if I could just pull out now. And I cursed myself for pressing publish on that post before I could retract my words.

Because I’m not sure what to write.

It’s not that there isn’t fodder. There is. Lots of fodder. Heaps of fodder. Fodder piled to my eye balls.

But this shit is big. These are hard subjects to broach. The require concentration and stamina. They require I give enough of a shit to write.

No, that’s not it. That’s not accurate. Because I do give enough of a shit. It just hurts to get it down.

It hurts to reach inside, find it, wrench it free, clean it off, make some sense of it, and plaster it all across this page.

I have spent so much time walking around the muck, carefully avoiding it, I don’t remember how to wade in.

Plus I don’t have any goulashes.

But after four long years of drought an El Niño is supposedly coming.

I guess I better find a pair of waterproof footwear and get used to sloshing around in the dark, wet, messy of it.

Life/Writing

NaBloPoMo Bitches!

Posted on by noemikjames / 9 Comments

Yep! That’s right bitches! I’m doing NaBloPoMo this month!

I used to sign up, kind of as an after thought, because posting every day wasn’t much of a challenge. I already posted every weekday, posting on the weekends wasn’t that hard.

But this time?! It’s going to be a challenge, and a proper challenge at that.

But I need a challenge. Or better said, I need a challenge that excites me. The other challenges I’ll be facing this month are of the groan-eliciting persuasion. They make me anxious as I’m pretty sure I’m doomed to fail.

Writing every day in this space? That is something I think I can do. That is something I think I want to do. That is something I think will help me.

I just hope it doesn’t backfire.

You see, I’ve been a bit proud of myself, for walking away from this space as much as I have. I think I used to post too much, or I used to post things I shouldn’t have posted. I ALWAYS came to write and I ALWAYS published what I wrote. It was kind of a recipe for disaster, and well, there were a fair number of them.

But I grew up. I matured. I stopped airing my dirty laundry for everyone to read. I started finding other ways to handle the hard shit in my life. And I felt good for doing that. I haven’t regretted much of what I’ve written here, and I hope to keep it that way. But I’ve also noticed that in not coming here, I’ve stopped processing a lot of things. I read a book or watch TV, something that will distract me from the discomfort, or numb the pain, and so a lot is being left by the wayside, or stuffed down until the pressure becomes too great, and explodes. While things may be better in this space, they aren’t so much in my real life.

And therein lies the challenge. I want to write every day, but I hope to avoid airing my dirty laundry. While I think the very act of writing something I feel comfortable publishing will be difficult in and of itself, keeping my dirty laundry in the hamper might be even harder. If I’m forcing myself to sit down and write, it’s going to be really hard not to engage in a good ‘ole venting session.

So yeah, this is going to be a challenge, but it’s a challenge I’m going to embrace, because writing has gotten me through a lot of hard shit, and I think it can help me through some hard shit now too.

So get ready… because I’ll be frequenting your inbox quite a bit.

Identity

My Answer

Posted on by noemikjames / 20 Comments

It was so interesting to read the responses to the question I posed via the book Rising Strong. People have really strong feelings about this; it’s clear most of us hold ourselves to high standards and we have expectations that others should meet those standards as well. We don’t think it should matter if someone is doing their best or not–if there best isn’t good enough, who cares?

In the book Rising Strong, this question is posed to Brené Brown by her therapist after she comes in for a special session to deal with some serious anger and resentment she is feeling toward an organization and an individual. She is incredibly frustrated by “the sewer rats and the scofflaws” of the world–the people who don’t care about the rules and worse, the people who scorn those who do care about the rules. Her anger and resentment are making her miserable, but she can’t seem to let them go. When she tells her therapist about the situation that upset her, the therapist asks if she thinks maybe the woman who wronged her was doing the best she could. Brene Brown is unimpressed with this response, and after she assures her therapist that no, the woman could not have possibly been doing the best she could, she leaves the appointment in a huff.

But the question stays with her and over the following weeks she asks a lot of people what they believe. Some answer that yes, they think people are doing the best they can, while others agree with her that no, most people are not. She notes that all of the people who do not believe people are doing their best cite themselves as an example of someone who slacks off sometimes and could do better.

It’s not until she asks a new friend what she believes, that the author’s mind is changed. When she poses the question to her new friend, she is not surprised that the friend agrees with her. She is, however, surprised when her new friend immediately launches into a speech about how she is currently breastfeeding and she thinks it’s the most important thing a new mother can do for her child, and that all the people who say they tried their best to breast feed but couldn’t are kidding themselves and that women who are not willing to do whatever it takes to breast feed for at least a year should seriously consider not having kids, because not breastfeeding your child is tantamount to child abuse.

And Brene Brown just sits there, staring, because in that moment she realizes that SHE is her new friend’s sewer rat, SHE is the woman on the other end of the judgement, being told she does not care about the rules and is not doing her best.

Brené Brown did not breastfeed her children for very long. She is okay with that. In that moment, sitting across from her friend and her friend’s judgement, she doesn’t confess her breastfeeding sins, but she does start to rethink her stance on whether or not people are doing the best they can.

That night she goes home and asks her husband what he believes. After ten minutes of careful consideration he admits that he isn’t sure, but he chooses to believe. In the book she describes his answer this way:

I don’t know. I really don’t. All I know is that my life is better when I assume that people are doing their best. It keeps me out of judgement and let’s me focus on what is, and not what could or should be.

That is exactly why I choose to believe that people are doing the best they can.

To clarify… believing that people are doing the best they can does not absolve them of responsibility. If their best at any given moment does not meet certain standards determined by an individual or society at large, there are consequences. We must establish boundaries and maintain them. We must honor our convictions. If we believe people are trying their best, it doesn’t mean we let them off the hook, it means we hold our ground with empathy instead of judgement. It means we try to help people while we hold them accountable, not simply punish them in the name of justice.

Annie asked what the point of this question is… Z suggested that “this kind of thinking can help us be more forgiving and accepting of others’ shortcomings, and of our own.” I think that is exactly the point. If we believe that people are trying their best, we approach them with empathy and compassion. We try to help them, and we do so understanding that they might not be capable of what we think they should be capable of. It means we adjust our expectations to meet reality, even if that reality is deeply disappointing.

Take my relationship with my husband. For years I’ve been asking him to show me more affection. My brain knows that he loves me, but it’s hard for my heart to feel that love without physical affection. Despite asking him many times, in many different ways, with and without the support of a therapist, my husband has never managed to show me physical affection consistently. This has become a real point of contention between us, and I feel a lot of resentment toward him about it. I can’t help but get stuck in the thought pattern: if he really loved me he would show me affection in the ways I have asked him to countless times. If I believe that people are not trying their best, the logical conclusion is: The fact that he doesn’t do show me physical affection must mean he doesn’t care. If he did care, he would try harder. 

This mindset leaves me with a couple of options. Maybe somehow, magically, he does start trying harder, and he shows me the affection I’ve been asking for for so long. Or, more probably, he doesn’t and the cycle continues escalating into further failure on his part and further resentment on mine. Perhaps eventually the resentment becomes so great that it results in the disillusion of our marriage.

If I think that he really is doing his best, then much of the resentment melts away. I believe that he does love me, he just doesn’t know how to show his love in the ways I have been asking for it. With this mindset, the external options look very similar. I can accept the fact that he will never show his love for me in that way and determine if there are other ways that I can register his love for me. Or, more probably, I can recognize that he simply can’t give me the physical affection I crave, and perhaps it again results in the dissolution of our marriage. Either way, if I determine that my boundaries require my husband showing his love for me in certain ways, and in doing his best he is unable to manage that, our marriage is still in jeopardy. The difference lies in how I feel about him and us; when I believe he is doing the best he can, I feel a lot less anger and resentment and I am able to recognize the situation for what it is, and not what it could, or should be.

So that is where I stand on this issue. Of course there is no way to know for sure if people are doing the best they can, but I chose to believe that they are, because it helps me move away from judgement and toward empathy. It also helps me accept what is, and not cling to what I expect. Moving in this direction has helped me immensely, especially in the arenas of parenting and teaching.

When I believe my daughter is doing the best she can, I don’t bring my unrealistic expectations to our interactions and I am better able to recognize what she needs, even if it’s not what I want her to need. I also feel less resentment in meeting her needs, even if doing so feels like my own needs are diminished.

When I believe my students are doing the best they can, I am better able to create situation in which they can be successful, and I avoid creating situation in which they are destined to fail and I am destined to feel disappointed in them and in myself.

Shifting to this mindset even helps me manage my own goals by helping me recognize what I am actually capable of, even when my judgement screams that I should be able to do more, or better. I have a greater chance of creating realistic goals, and meeting them, if I believe I am doing the best I can, and am honest about what my best actually looks like.

Which brings us to an important point: believing people are doing their best does not diminish the need, and ability, to grow and change. I do believe people can improve, that their best can steadily move in one direction (or unfortunately, another). I actually think it’s harder to make real changes when we judge ourselves as lacking the willpower or determination to do things a certain way. If we believe we just need to try harder, we won’t learn the skills we need to create real and lasting change. Instead we’ll just keep berating ourselves for not trying our best, for slacking off, for taking the easy way out.

It can be hard to believe that people are trying their best, because that means when people hurt us, we have to acknowledge their hurt instead of being able to distance ourselves from that hurt with our anger and judgement. It’s understandable that we want to avoid compounding our suffering, and it’s important that we identify what we need to maintain our boundaries so that we can hold people accountable for their actions even as we show them empathy and understanding. It’s hard work, and it can feel incredibly burdensome.

I guess my final thought would be this: If we keep believing that some people aren’t doing their best all of the time or that all people aren’t doing their best some of the time, how do we draw the lines and what do we do with people once they fall on either side? Already, in the comment section of my last post, verdicts were read and it was determined who was doing their best and who was failing to. I guess my question is, if we choose to judge, then with what purpose and to what end? And how can we be sure our judgements are fair?

Thank you for engaging in yesterday’s conversation. I’m sorry I didn’t respond to the comments individually–I felt one post expressing my views would be the best way to continue the conversation. I hope this post inspires a discussion as thoughtful, respectful and interesting as yesterday’s, and I promise to participate in the comment section today.