Watching The Book Thief-Are sad films hygge?

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As the credits rolled on The Book Thief film, my husband and I listened to the haunting music and wiped our tears, faces screwed up. I felt a deep feeling of contentment while my husband said incredulously, "That's cozy?" I had been in charge of choosing a cozy film, so I choose The Book Thief because I think it's beautiful and cozy. I love the run-down house, looking so tidy and clean. I love the sadness and the narrator and all the other characters and just...I enjoy it. My husband agreed it was good, but to him it was depressing and not cozy.

I find myself wondering...what do you think? Do you find beauty in the sad? Do sad movies make you feel better or worse? 

A list of my favorite movies shows I definitely love films which tug at my heart. Out of Africa, The English Patient (though that episode of Seinfeld forever makes me self-conscious for liking it), and many more top this list. If I don't ugly cry-is it even good? I am exaggerating of course. I like many movies which don't make me cry. But the movies which stir my soul (and honestly, The Book Thief is only good, not a favorite), are the ones in which joy and sorrow are intertwined like shimmering golden and silvery threads accenting the fabric of life, creating the richness and depth of experience which is life itself (which by the way, was not a very good movie).

"Your Second Life Begins When You Realize You Only Have One"-Reading now

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My most serious book this month (meaning I am going through it carefully, rather than skimming through for nuggets of help), is the book: You Second Life Begins When You Realize You Only Have One, written by Raphaelle Giordano. I am listening to it on Audible, which means it is taking me awhile to get through it because I tend to forget about my audiobooks.

It is a self-help book, written in fictionalized form. Sort of a like a Sophie's World in self-help.

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Another book it reminds of is ... I can't remember. Basically it was a fictionalized book with a simple romance built in and a genie who told the woman how to lose weight in small steps.

In no way are you going to be fooled into thinking this book isn't what it is, a thinly disguised advice book. The character is a little too perfect-good career, 10 pounds overweight (clearly European because 10 pounds is just a barbecue away here, make it 30 pounds and I will believe). She only has one child, which makes her a little hard to relate to for me. I mean how can you complain about raising kids when you only have one?  Anyway, she meets this man who agrees to take her on as a client and give her advice to help her change her life. 

The book does what it is supposed to: helps you imagine the steps to making changes in your life. First you have to decide what you want to change, then you have to start taking baby steps towards those changes. I found myself initially disappointed, because the book came highly recommended from my online book group people, and it is pretty basic. However, I can recognize the genius in writing this way because it does help the lessons to stick a lot better than a dry step-by-step advice book. Fictionalizing it makes it memorable. 

And finally, I haven't finished the book yet. Maybe I am totally wrong, and there is a plot twist making it a true work of literature. But I doubt it.

Camille is sort of the Bella of the self-help world. She is basic and her feelings are pretty stereotypical meaning most women are going to be able to relate to her. We all have fights with our spouse and feel like everything falls on us. We all would rather have a snack and glass of wine than go for a walk in the evening. We all get bored with our kids and feel the pressure of getting stuff done rather than bonding with loved ones.

If I sound negative, it is only in my disappointment in thinking the book was something else. It is definitely useful in accomplishing its purpose: to teach people how to change their lives in a simple step-by-step way. I do recommend it if you are trying to shake up a dull existence and reach for something a little more. 

I made a business decision!

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I have decided not to close my business. Now Dagney Taggart might not approve (but we don't like her anyway, do we?), but I get a lot of pleasure out of choosing clothes and sharing them. What I will do is scale way back on advertising and call it what it is: a hopeful hobby. 

I may put a little money into advertising, but I plan to focus on slowly growing my online presence while also signing up to work vendor fairs when I can. I think it will be fine. 

I get a huge amount of pleasure opening the clothes and repackaging them for others, and I am not ready to deny myself that yet. 

I feel very at peace with this choice!

Now granted as soon as I came to this conclusion I was flooded with a remembrance of You've Got Mail,  when Kathleen decides the right choice is to close her beloved children's bookstore. After sharing this, one of her employees, an older woman who had known her mother, stated, "Closing the store is the brave thing to do!" This has always stuck in my mind (and others because when I looked it up to make sure I had it right, others had put it in their own blog posts). And I wonder, am I not brave? Of course, Kathleen  was an ISFJ and they much more practical than I am. And I also wonder, if Birdie would have said the same thing had Kathleen opted to keep the shop alive a little longer. 

One wonders.  Either way, I am happy with my choice and quietly open and waiting for a new and more profitable idea to enter my head. Universe, I await you! 

A Day in the Life of an Online Summer School Teacher

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For the last quarter of the school year and for the month of June, I have been teaching online. I wanted to share a bit of what that looks like on a daily basis.

Rise and Shine!

5:05 a.m. My alarm goes off. I might get up. I might not. If I have K-cups or set up the coffee maker the night before, I am much more likely to get up. Let's assume I do get up.

I typically head downstairs and pour a cup of coffee, black please. Then I take my phone into the library (front "formal" livingroom). Depending on the day, I will either sit on the loveseat to listen to something inspirational on Simple Habit, or sit on the floor and begin stretching. It really depends on how tired I feel.

After listening and meditation/stretching for 10 minutes or so, I might decorate a room on Design Home or check up on Facebook to see if anything exciting happened overnight. 

Sometimes I am feeling the need to reach out to people, which I do by blogging about my feelings. Because what else draws people in like a big emotionally driven post about nothing, right? If I am under a lot of stress, I will pray or write in a private, handwritten prayer journal. It has more of the truth, but it is still censored-I mean, I am going to die someday and someone is going to read it.

If the weather is really nice I might sit out on the back deck and enjoy my second or third cup of coffee. 

Around seven, I put my contact (I only have one left) in, and do my makeup.

Work Begins

 As soon as my makeup is done and my hair is pulled back into a ponytail, I do my short daily video announcements for my students. I make conference meeting times and email those links out to my classes. My public school district uses Canvas and we supplement the learning with great educational games like Prodigy for Math. In addition, we are using Scratch and Tynker for my online coding class. 

Then I start getting the kids up and dressed. 

Usually I eat breakfast, I love a good fried egg, bread, and a cutie in the morning. 

Goodbye Kiddos!

 8:30 my oldest daughter comes and picks up the kids. During the spring, she had been watching them from about 8:00 to 11:30, but since the addition of my second class she is watches them from about 8:30 to 1:50. I hold my one oclock meeting then rush to get them and hurry back for the 2:00 meeting. 

Keep on working

I spend a lot of time going over the lessons the students have completed, calling and emailing parents whose child isn't attending or logging in, and grading lessons. I compile information from Prodigy and determine what my lesson will be like for the day. At 10 a.m. I hold a lesson for students who want extra time with a teacher.  

At 11:00, I have my regular class meeting. Often it is the same kids who showed up at the 10 a.m. meeting. We chat a little, go over the assignments, and everyone gets a chance to share if they want to talk. 

Not sure about the schedule just yet

After this meeting, I had been taking a break to get the kids, however, since my second class was added, I need to be ready for a class meeting at 1:00. So I eat lunch, prepare for the meeting, and then at one open the room. This class was late getting assigned to me and just started two days ago. Attendance is quite low, so I spend a lot of time, messaging and emailing parents to try and get them on board.

We talk about the lessons and I give them a chance to share. After that I close down the meeting room and rush to get my kids. At two I come back to prepare for the afternoon extra help meeting, which hasn't been attended yet. I think I may push that back to 2:30 and take my break from 2:00-2:30 from now on.

Step away from the computer. I repeat...

Around 3 or 4, I step away from the computer. If I don't have a headache, I call it a good day. 

Honestly, I love it. I wish the class meetings were attended more, but I love getting to know the kids and often the parents are there, too, and just the general feeling of pride in being entrusted with youngsters by the community. 

That Family Thing

Dinner for me is around 4. I am counting calories after a big slide over the spring, and usually starving. I generally chomp down some salmon or chicken breast and a bag of cooked broccoli. Yeah. I don't love it, but it does work, if I can avoid snacking.

I try to have dinner for the family ready around five. At this time, the boys are usually playing with neighbors, and Alec is going from my phone to out back, to sneaking out the front and running away if I let myself get preoccupied. 

Of course, I work again

Sometime later in the evening, I check my email and classes for messages and make sure I know how to do the work for the next day.

And I relax

 If my husband is in a good mood I might go out for a short drive to listen to music, center a little, and maybe let myself think about the things I need to think  about. Or I might take a long, hot bath, if I am really feeling extravagant. I climb into bed around nine, or as soon as Alec is in bed. Alec doesn't believe in going to bed when it is light out-and I get it. We are also training him to sleep with his door open now. Usually by 10:30, I have played my last Words with Friends games and I am tired. I will put the phone away, make sure my contact is out, teeth are brushed, face is washed, and small fan is on. Then it's sleepy time!

When do I shower? If my hair is dirty I will shower either in the evening or first thing in the morning. Otherwise I usually take baths. 

I realize there is little husband time in there. It usually depends on if we are into any TV shows. If we have an ongoing show, we spend a lot of time doing that. Right now we don't, so our interests are very different (he likes music and I like quietly reading). We sort of manage the kids and do our own thing. Sometimes, we do sit out on the deck or build a fire in the firepit in the yard, too. 

Obviously, I am doing laundry, handwashing dishes 2 or 3x a day, and spending time with the boys throughout the day, as well. I just don't have a set time for that.

Online Education Learning Opportunities

Personally, I love doing distance education. As a parent, I find it difficult to get my kids to do their own work, so I understand what some parents may face. However, for some of our kids learning online through educational portals and educational games with the support of a teachers is fantastic option. I would have loved the ability to do middle school at home. 

Welp. There you go. I think this may be the most boring thing I have ever written. But now you know!

A Little Late to the Game-The Five Love Languages

I know the picture is odd to this post, but we took it in South Dakota (with my daughter's superior camera) and it is just so peaceful.

 I know, I know. The book has been out forever. It is just so Mars and Venusy, I don't wanna be like everyone else and read the book. But I have been thinking of the miscommunications issues I have been having with my spouse and I thought, welp, I will give it a look.

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I just started thinking that maybe the way I was interacting isn't quite the what he was needing.

After taking a short quiz online, I discovered my number one love language was Acts of Service, followed by gift giving/receiving, followed by quality time. And that is true. I love it when my husband does something sweet for me. I love it when he runs a bath, or thinks up a solution to my problems (not always, sometimes, you just gotta listen to me whine), or buys me a little surprise gift. 

However, he might not feel the same. He hasn't taken the test yet, but I am predicting he will score high on words on affirmation and physical affection. Two areas I score really low on. I am curious to see what he scores, and will update this when I know for sure. 

I think however, it may explain why the things we do for each other aren't received like we think they will be. I look forward to finding out!

Update!!

So my original hypothesis was right. My husband's high scores were physical affection and words of affirmation. I guess it is true what they about men wanting to feel "respected." 

I think this is interesting, because the it gives us each insight into how to make the other feel loved. I feel like he should feel loved because I usually make (granted a mediocre and cheap-I'd rather spend my money elsewhere) dinner and do his laundry. But he'd rather snuggle and be thanked for the things he does and the work he does. Meanwhile being told I am amazing or do so much for the family, while nice from time to time, too often feels like groveling to me and makes me feel weird. Give me a bath, time alone, and some sushi, champagne, and chocolate if your goal is to make me feel special.

Which is also interesting. When I imagine love, I imagine the physical aspect and the amazing words. But when it comes to every day life, I want you to do things for me and buy me things. Ha! I don't know what that means!

Gaining Perspective Doesn't Mean a Painless Life

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Every now and then, after days of pondering I will have a new perspective shine a light on my thinking, a glorious A-Ha! moment. Gaining perspective, as I call it, feels wonderful, illuminates my struggles, and shows where the true beauty of whatever I am going through or struggling with lies. I think, however, sometimes I expect once I have gained perspective, or been enlightened, or woke up, the lessons will stay forever. But the world is dizzying and ever-present and always works to lull us back into an easy sleep. Being asleep is easy, but it is deceptive. Being asleep means accepting the status quo, following the lessons of anger and selfishness the world boldly suggests, and viewing everything through the tunnel vision someone else has planned out for you.

It is hard to stay woke, folks.

One of the problems I am struggling with though, is as I struggle to stay woke, I become so disenchanted, so disillusioned, when a struggle comes my way. 

"But, but..." I tend to sputter in disappointment. And oh! How disappointing the world can be. I created this blog to be  teacher and mentor, but have been quiet lately, because what I thought I would be doing: giving advice, and leading people spiritually, isn't who I am meant to be at all. I am not the woman who stands up with a clear path and says follow me. I don't even TRUST those people. I flounder. I fall. I cry bitter, disappointed tears into my pillow. I let people down. I get petty. I want what I want when I want it, and yet don't have the persuasive powers to get it. Who am I to lead? But slowly it dawned on me, leadership isn't always a "do this!" endeavor. Face it, only the weak like those kind of leaders. Sometimes,  we lead from the back of the room, quietly sharing our perspective. The truth is, I don't care so much if people follow my path. I care that they find their own path. I care that they ask themselves the difficult questions, and are able to be open, yet kindly, honest with themselves. And I care they make a life they are proud of, which fill their soul with a warm joy at the end.

I struggle with candor. Now, I am not going to lie and say I am always honest. I am learning, learning the value of a lie. But I tend to be open and honest as much as I can (except when I am nervously sputtering crap to throw IRL people off track), and you know what-it hurts people. It gets me in trouble. I know it is just childish naivete which thinks I should be admired for honesty, but I still think so. I have watched as people laid verbal traps for me, my gut screaming to shut up, but my head wanting to be open and honest falling in, anyway. I have watched the mirth spread across people's face as they put out the bait, knowing the idea of injustice towards them would get me stirred up and vocal, and then watched as they used it against me. I don't hate them. They seem so asleep.  Not to say I am not. I fall asleep with the rhythm of a magazine article, a misplaced pep talk. I am no better than them. 

My candor has hurt my husband. He is more from the camp of little white lies to avoid hurting people, and I am of the belief that if I can't be known for who I am, what is the whole point? We stand at this impasse, I longing for self-expression, and he whitewashing pain until it becomes unbearable and he explodes. Maybe we are both wrong. Maybe I should practice washing my words first and he should practice saying what he really thinks more. A well-constructed argument is better than an unhappy life.

And I have to remind myself that as long as I am breathing, I am going to mess up. I am going to say the wrong thing, or fail to act because I am overthinking, and someone will be hurt. I am going to be honest when I should have been wisely quiet. I am never going to attain the perfection I expect of myself. 

Gaining perspective doesn't mean a painless life. Asking God to guide your footsteps and lead you where you are intended, doesn't mean the valley of the shadow doesn't suck ass. Sorry. that isn't very ladylike. The thing is, my identity and self-worth is tied up in my career, and I don't like where I am. I think I am in a position where I need someone who is willing to help me and give me a hand to move on to a better fit, and I can't find that person. This causes me a lot of pain because I am extremely work-oriented. Having babies can distract from the disappointment and pain, but three kids is really my limit at one time. And I am 46.

 My life isn't painless. I am closing my online business and closing the door on all the unexpected dreams which arose from it. Reba McEntire songs are running through my head currently and unfortunately. 

So as I work to stay awake, to see life through the correct lens, I find myself staring at my mistakes, mouth gaping in horror.  The words I need to express to understand the problem are hurtful to others. And I don't know how to fix that without losing myself.

 

Quiet, unassuming, metallic: The taste of failure

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My body wants to fall into itself, curled on the floor, just resting. All the pressure of weight is falling on my spine and my eyes feel dry, yet teary and heavy. My hair is heavy in its boring daily ponytail.

I am going to close my online retail shop.
When I started I wanted to support my daughter, but being an all or nothing person, it wasn't long until I was all in. I put money in over the past year. I endured the humiliation of peddling to facebook friends, the anger of my husband over the money spent, and the entangling of my dreams with the outcome of the shop.

At first, I wanted a bit of money. Then I wanted enough money to quit my job. Oh, I would be classy about it. I would use my extra money to help support the school with air of benevolent superiority. I would open a brick and mortar store, and spend days decorating a shop and selling and budgeting and planning. I would eventually make enough to get "real" and hire buyers and creative people and plan my own line. I'd have China calling me. But alas, the realities of a flooded market, lack of investment capital, and just trying to figure out how things work have prevailed.

I will take my dull-tipped pencil and lightly add this to my list of failures.
My big failures...getting married when I didn't want to at age 19. My inability to choose a major until I ran out of choices. My fear of science, even though it is what I wanted to do. Too many hours reading on my bed which should have been spent building a community for my children. Shyness. Extreme introversion. My inability to get a regular education job. My inability to get any other teaching job. It doesn't matter if I would be happier or not. What matters is facing the challenge and winning. And I am not. And now, so much money later-so much money I could have had a kickass wardrobe-or a trip for two to Europe-I could have SEEN those Swiss Alps, and I have to just stop.

There is a current order out. An order which I will lose about $3 on once I ship it. My business requires orders of about 4 items to profit (or 4 items combined from different customers).  If my discount sales of desperation would have drawn people in, I could have made something, but they never did.

I am unsure how to view myself at this point. I mean, it's a totally flooded market, and I knew that going in. But when I see other people who are successful, I just want to be petty. But that's silly. If one believes in destiny, then one has to learn to breathe and let go.

But the joy I found in hours and hours of choosing and planning and hoping are going to be big empty spaces in my day.

But truly any feeling is a little delicious, isn't it? Just something to experience and ponder.

And happiness...Happiness is a steaming cup of strong coffee in a darkened room at 5:08 a.m. Happiness is a deep bath with a candle burning and something interesting to read. Happiness is the dimple in Alec's right cheek, a clever thought of Liam's, a spiritual lesson from Gabe. So I'll drink that coffee and wash down the taste of failure. I will run that bath and let the tears fall as they will. I'll drink in the spunky, snotty, sweet souls, wild and untamed as my children tend to be, and just wait for the next idea. It will come. And I will jump.