V.I.P.

A few nights ago I went to a concert at 8:30pm.  I suddenly felt like I was in my 20's again.  Normally I am winding down from a long day of clients, ubering my kids, getting groceries, or tending to some need somewhere.  8:30 is when I put on my PJ’s and try to shut my brain down from doing more things on the task list.  But that night I was looking for a parking garage in downtown Nashville so I could get to the Dan+Shay show at The Ryman with my husband.

I picked up my VIP sticker and Todd escorted me backstage.  I walked behind the curtain of the stage and had to catch my breath thinking about all the legends who have taken these same steps.  I’ve made that walk behind the curtain so many times, but I notice these moments and appreciate them more now. My twenty-something self who had been there before had no clue yet.  I stood in the balcony and watched the guys sing their hearts out and tell stories of how they came to Nashville with all their hopes and dreams, and now they’re here performing at the Mother Church to a sold-out crowd.  I heard my husband share his pride and excitement for how far they have come. I saw, felt, and experienced all this at a time when I would have normally been in my pajamas already.  I was thankful to feel all this again with new 38 year old eyes and ears.  I was sad about moments I had missed prior to this night (more on that later).  I appreciate it now more than ever. Fast forward to the next day…

I was sitting in the youth group parking lot.  I just dropped the boys off but was going to have to get Woody again to go to a soccer practice in 30 minutes, and then pick him back up an hour later, along with getting Carl from youth group (Did you follow that? Me neither).  So I had short spurts of time in between to kill – not quite enough for Target or Costco, but just enough to feel irritated there was nothing I could do with that time.  So I ate my dinner out of Tupperware in a parking lot with my window down - alone.  While I felt sorry for myself, I looked down and realized I had a giant hole in the crotch of my jeans (thankfully not my new grown-ass woman jeans – read that blog post here).  Awesome. Most likely I had shown all my clients my leopard print underwear that day.  I like to think I sit professionally, but no, usually cross-legged, prime position for panty peeking.  As I teetered between shame and laughing my butt off, a couple high school kids walked by and said, “woah, hey hot mom.” Cue internal bursts of worthiness sunshine: I’ve made it - I’m a hot mom! I cannot tell you how much the reality of my life became clear in that 5 minute window.  I’m in a parking lot eating my chicken fried rice with a hole in my pants and being hit on by teenagers. Just the night before I was a VIP backstage.  Somehow I still found a way to appreciate this moment too.  It’s because of the “liminal space” I’ve been in. More on this later too.  Now let’s rewind to about 4 years ago…

I was not a mom yet - a mom in my heart but not in my home.  I was grieving.  I had also made it to the point in life where all my over-achieving, urgencies, tasks, relentless exercising, and work had knocked me down. I realized I wasn’t superwoman. I crashed. I had panic attacks. I couldn’t get out of bed. I hurt all over. I cried a lot. I was not who I remembered being. I didn’t necessarily want to go back to all those old things, but I was also not who I wanted to be yet.  I was freaking stuck. I stopped going to concerts. I stopped enjoying life. Not because I didn’t want to, but I was literally frozen in my pain. Stress and grief are bitches, people.  They will try to take your life away from you. Thankfully I am getting mine back with Jesus, yoga, meditations, stillness, new perspectives, and good neurotransmitter boosters. And counseling! (Counselors need counseling too. That’s how we can help you! We are people too.  I can’t wait to write that blog post). I am also a big believer that no time is ever wasted.  I recently read about “liminal space.” Author and theologian Richard Rohr describes this space in his book Everything Belongs.  Liminal comes from the Latin word limina which means threshold.  This place of waiting is a “unique spiritual position where human beings hate to be but where God is always leading them. It is when you have left the tried and true, but have not yet been able to replace it with anything else.  It is when you are finally out of the way.  It is when you are between your old comfort zone and any possible new answer.  If you are not trained in how to hold anxiety, how to live with ambiguity, how to entrust and wait, you will run…anything to flee this terrible cloud of unknowing.” Learning to be uncomfortable and trust there is something new coming is the most tortuous and beautiful thing.  I have hurts and resentments from this gap of time in my life.  But I know for sure it has made me more awake. 

I know I am still in this space unfolding into the woman I want to be.  But at present I have holy jeans, fancy solo parking lot dinners, and an occasional backstage pass.  And that’s enough right now. I can be right here and be thankful for all of it. I notice Todd’s accomplishments and feel so proud of him.  I dance and sing.  I am thankful that my children have a safe and fun place to go on Wednesday nights while I take a deep breath.  I laugh at my imperfections. I am learning to accept all the realities of life – the inconvenience of my schedule being ruled by teenage boys and the opportunity to hold my husband’s hand at a crosswalk in downtown Nashville after a show.  I try to notice each moment now and do not take it for granted. I put my sticker on my steering wheel so I keep Very Important Perspective no matter where I'm going - concerts, soccer practice, work, date, wherever. I am every beautiful woman – yesterday, today, and tomorrow.