ten minutes of joy

life is intense.

not just mine but those all around me.

a lot is happening,

all. of. the. time.

in my clinical social work class this semester i gave students this assignment:

every day, 

be intentional about giving yourself ten minutes to enjoy life, 

unencumbered by the things on your to-do list.

the "what" does not matter - i will not judge - 

but i will check in with you each week to see how it is going.

as one who is ruled by an unrelenting list of things to do, i find this task of intentionality to be difficult so i understood when my students reflected that "10 minutes of joy" felt like just another task on the list.  

every day, 

be intentional.

as one who is easily distracted into procrastination, i understood when my students came back reporting that "10 minutes of joy" turned into hours of joy and serves as an excuse for delaying the inevitable.  

every day,

be intentional.

as one who is loves a routine but hates feeling bound or stuck, i understood when my students came back to class to tell me that selecting one activity to engage in for their "10 minutes of joy" was boring and uninspired.

every day, 

be intentional.

we have been at this assignment for nearly 2 months and i think, have finally ventured to the other side.  our discussions are less about the barriers and more about seeing the assignment for what it is:

being intentional. 

carving out the time and space

to take care of our emotional and physical well-being.

it is not about the exact amount of minutes or even the actual substance of that time;

it is about our recognition that in the midst of life's insanity,

we all need some time to 

slow down, hold still, and remember:

who we are, why we do what we do, and where we are going.

feeling heavy

  Today has been heavy.   

My heart feels broken and my soul feels raw.

I was almost in tears as I drove our kids to school today.

We listened to radio reports of riots and protests.

I felt the outrage and the futility and the sadness and the anger.

I wanted to loot and set things on fire.  Not an appropriate response but a valid one;

Anything to communicate how I felt inside.

I was almost in tears as I started class today.  

 I was not the only one.

We processed the news of a fellow student’s death.

We learned how to treat survivors of childhood trauma.

We discussed stigma and prejudice.   

Today has been heavy;

Like the fullness of injustice and pain and suffering is resting in my soul.

I was almost in tears as I met with my students for coffee after class today.

We discussed social justice and systemic racism.

We discussed poverty and oppression and privilege.

We discussed what it means to be an ally and advocate. 

The conversation was heavy but I am so thankful for the space and time to have it.

I was almost in tears at dinner today.

I was disappointed when our oldest reported he hadn’t talked race at all during school

But relieved to hear he’s been thinking about our morning's discussion of moderating strong emotions.

Our youngest declared his “bestest friends have brown skin and white skin and all the colors of skin”

But I don’t think he even really understands the significance yet.

This realization is heavy because I know

Neither of our boys will likely ever be on the receiving end of the bias and fear and –ism’s that permeate our culture. 

 

I was almost in tears all day today.

My heart feels broken and my soul feels raw

As I grapple with the realities of my privilege.

good enough parent confession: hashtag mom fail

A few summers ago, our eldest and I embarked on a cross-country road trip together,  

during which he coined the phrase "mom fail" for my many parenting blunders.

It was hilarious...and unnerving to realize how closely he watches and assesses what I do.

But I loved how comfortable he felt to call me out.  

It was also somewhat liberating because the phrase nearly always captured both the humor of the situation and acknowledged the internal sense of failure I experienced whenever I did something "wrong." 

I hadn't really given it much thought until today when he informed me that while I had reminded him to get dressed for school pictures, I had not actually submitted the order form. 

{Oops} 

He was nonchalant with the reveal but as he jumped on a couch cushion he muttered, 

"hashtag mom fail" {because everything gets a hashtag these days} 

followed by a nervous giggle.

#momfail

It was perfect.

Made even sweeter when he said, 

"but really, it was actually kind of a me-fail because I shouldn't expect you to remember and do everything for me. Ya know?"

going on a bear hunt

It happens now and again that I come up against a thing that makes me feel stuck.

We all have these things {or at least that is what I tell myself}

In the way of narrative therapy, I have decided to call this thing...Bear.

My relationship with Bear is complicated and has a longstanding rhythm.

Bear seems to let up a bit with some attention but he always comes back to smack me down like the relentless bully he is.

Bear compromises my satisfaction and puts me in funny head space.  

Every. Time.

And I let him do that to me. 

Every. Time. 

Which feels pretty gross.

I am a verbal processor {shocking, I know} and have dedicated many minutes and hours to processing Bear with my husband, who, for the record, is NOT a verbal processor.  He kindly obliges my need to talk since he knows the significance of Bear's impact.  

Anyway, the general theme of the most recent discussion kept moving toward my acknowledgement that I need to deal with Bear head-on. 

My relationship with Bear is not getting better - despite my efforts.  

In fact, it seems my approach to engaging with Bear may have just increased his power and influence over me. 

So husband says: 

"Daph, you know, you've tried going around it. 

You've tried going under it. It might be time to go through it."

And so,

Things are changing.

 

I feel excitement. I feel nervous. 

I feel relieved...and free.

PSA: mother meets social worker

When it comes to children, youth and their families, I am teacher, mentor, advocate, counselor, therapist, social worker, and friend.   

I've sat this bench for nearly 20 years and counting.
I have listened and I have learned. A lot.

Over the years,
I've supported families through depression, anxiety, bullying, trauma, academic problems, and faith journeys.
I've counseled families whose children have gotten pregnant, been diagnosed with a STI, or learned their child is HIV positive. 

I have sat with families whose children have committed suicide - or “just” attempted. 

I have filed countless reports with Children’s Protective Services and walked families through the turmoil that rains down thereafter.  

I have supported families whose children have overdosed or been victims of gun violence.
I have seen a lot.

I know I have not seen it all
but I feel confident I've seen close to the full spectrum of youth complexities.   

I am also a mom of a pre-teen and every moment of my waking life {and many of those in which I am asleep} I worry about the topics and decisions my child(ren) will need to navigate in the coming years.

Which is why, when a recent blog post about a mother’s reaction to a sign posted at her daughter’s pediatrician's office blitzed my social network feed {and I followed the subsequent posts/comments/ media storm}
 I feel deeply compelled to write this:

Intentionally creating the time for youth to speak privately with a health care provider 

{about such topics as mental health, sex, sexual health, and physical health} 

is essential to promoting the health and well-being of our children.  

It has become law because

these exact topics represent the health risk behaviors that contribute to the leading causes of death, disability, and social problems of our youth in the United States. {CDC} 

In fact:

• In 2010, the last year data were published, there were over 1600 youth suicides.  40% of those deaths were at the hand of firearms.  Firearm deaths are the most common method of suicide – across gender, age, and ethnicity/race.

• A recent article in the Mayo Clinic Proceedings (2011) report that over 40% of those who committed suicide saw a primary care physician in within the preceding month.

• 1 out of every 7 students (13.8 percent) report having seriously considered attempting suicide in the preceding months.

• The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Administration (SAMHSA) published a youth suicide prevention toolkit for schools in which they report that, while youth often talk about suicide with their peers, <25% of peer confidants tell an adult.

•  A national survey (YRBS) of public and private high school youth reveal 47.4% of youth report they have ever had sexual intercourse and 6.2% of those students indicate they had intercourse before 13 years of age.

Despite your best efforts and despite the quality of relationship you have with your children, 
these are the realities facing our children EVERY. DAY. EVERY. YEAR.

I do not intend to say parents should relinquish their rights related to their child's health. 

but I do advocate for parents to

do your best to develop honest, open, caring relationships with your children
{relationships that promote and encourage healthy connections with other adults} 

and

consider that state and federal policy is not designed to undermine your profound role and impact on your children.  It is not intended to pre-accuse parents and families of abuse.
Rather, it IS intended {most times} to provide a safety net for one of our society’s most vulnerable populations.

Youth resilience research indicates that strong/positive attachment and parental relationships and positive attachment relationships with adults within the community act as protective factors for youth. As parents, we have an obligation to provide our children with as many opportunities to build safe and appropriate relationships with other adults so our children may have as many avenues as possible to receive education, to check in, to request mirroring and reflection, to blunder, to ask questions, and to succeed.

I challenge parents to consider health care providers as allies in the journey of keeping your children healthy and safe.   

 Being open to your child meeting privately with their health care provider {if your child chooses} is for their protection and it is their right.

Providing an opportunity for a trained provider to screen your child for health risk behaviors and associated concerns IS in your child’s best interest…and yours.  

Educate yourselves. Be proactive and less reactive. 
Be your child’s parent, partner, and collaborator in this process of becoming a young adult.   

It's not easy and if we demand our rights over theirs at all turns, we make it all the more difficult for them.

[your] an awesome brother but you can be annoying

Every weekend and throughout the summer, we have our eldest create a learning plan. 

It typically involves reading, writing, and math.

He is rocking the reading and math these days so we are focusing more on writing.

He loves creative writing {he's got great style} in a word processor on account of the spelling/grammar assist 

but

He really struggles with writing by hand.

The learning plan helps him build in space for concentrated focus on that.

Last weekend his "assignment" was to write a personal letter.

He decided to write a letter to his brother...to be read in 4 years.

I love this letter so much!

{spelling remains a work-in-progress}

Dear Futchur Ishmael (2nd grade),

When you get stuk on something keep doing it.

Do a lot of reading and writing. Yu'll enjoy it!

Play video games after work.

Don't get out of bed erly unless you are going to school.

Be very active.  Go outside and play soccer, football, tag, dodgeball, rugbe and play with family.

Listen to directions.

Eat a lot of protene, vegetables, fruit, and don't eat a lot of treats.

Whatever you do, don't eat DYE!  Your alergec to it!

Your an awesome brother but you can be annoying.

Love, Quentin (ten, not fourteen)

{case in point}

with profound gratitude

A recent conversation with a student has me feeling deep gratitude.

Gratitude for you

 ~ my mentors, friends, and family members ~

who have shown up along my journey {for quick pit stops and for the long haul} and created safe spaces for me to:

Ask big {sometimes ridiculous} questions about life

Be silly

Be sad or mad or excited or to just "be"

Ask for help {and then gifted me beyond measure}

Take chances and fail

Be vulnerable and self-reflective

Try again and succeed

Experiment with and cultivate my personhood

Learn how to be me.

 Thank you.

no, for real, what women want...

This is a revision of a former post but in that the themes continue to emerge amongst my lady friends, I figure it bears {revision and} repeating!

For consideration on:

 Birthdays, Anniversaries, Mother's Day, and the Every Day...

 

{affirmation}  Every woman likes to hear she is wonderful.  

Not just the statement of fact, but why you think she is so great. 

These are the details that help us get through those dark moments in our heads,
where we are certain of failure across some or all aspects of life.  

Be generous with your affirmations and be specific.
You don't have to blow your wad all at once;
consider leaving/offering single affirmations throughout the day {or week or month or year...}

{gratitude}  Every woman likes to hear she is appreciated.

Not just the statement of fact, but why you appreciate her.  

These are the details that help us continue to give and give and give and give,
beyond the point of exhaustion and resentment. {yes, resentment}
Be generous with your gratitude and be specific. 
Like affirmation, you don't have to worry about going over the top with gratitude;
{unless you are being disingenuine or unintentional with it}
consider extending gratitude throughout the day.

{time}  Every woman likes to have a little time to herself.

Time that is unfettered by the "need to's" and "should do's" of life.  

Time to sit and do nothing but whatever we want to do.
We don't want to have to ask for it.
We don't want to have to justify it.
We don't want to have to account for what we will do with it and
we don't want to feel bad about taking it.
Find a solid chunk of time you can freely and graciously offer the woman in your life.

{service}  Every woman likes to have things done with her in mind.

we do a lot in a day. some of it is obvious and noticeable.
some of it is done so tacitly, it doesn't even strike you as an item on the to-do list.
we always have more items on our list than hours to accomplish them.

consider what is on the plate of the woman in your life and see about picking up laundry, cleaning bathrooms, washing floors, planting a garden, pulling weeds, dusting, or organizing the kids' outgrown clothes, managing the family calendar or finances, or keeping a vase filled with flowers.  

{this list is not all inclusive}

  Service need not be relegated to one day, of course.

{things}  every woman likes to receive gifts.  gifts of value...or not.  

The key to giving a gift is to offer something that demonstrates you know her.  

Offer a gift that communicates your knowledge of:
 who she is, what she believes in or values, how she likes to spend her time, things that drive her bonkers, and ways she feels loved. 
Consider a "frivolous" magazine, a gift card to a favorite place, a new item for the kitchen or home, a book or album, a pedicure or massage, an article of clothing, or some bling. 
If you don't feel like this is your area of strength, ask for help from a confidant in her life.

Be creative, but whatever you do - don't gift something out of projection {with your likes in mind} -

go with empathy {what she wants/needs}.
And don't ever hesitate to combine "things" with "time"

 

 If you are able to "gift" with these five themes in mind,
the woman in your life will feel

loved and appreciated and encouraged.

 

upon considering race

Two weeks ago, I assigned a couple of readings to my class:

One, an academic journal article on developing mentalizing communities (Twemlow et al, 2005).
It is an article I personally had a tough time getting through...until I started reading it from the end.

The second, a post from Ta-Nehisi Coates, from smack dab in the middle of his online "debate" with Jonathan Chait about black culture, social policy, race, poverty, politics, and white supremacy.

Both perfect fits for a course on mental health policy.

For months we have identified, dissected, and critiqued mental health policy & implementation.  

We have explored the disparity between ideas and reality. 

We have discussed the intersections between mental health and...

violence

poverty 

the child welfare system

juvenile justice

schools

neighborhoods and families
{to name a few}

Our discussions have been robust, despairing, frustrating, uncomfortable, and exciting.
 

Last week {per the usual} I asked for reactions to the readings.  Per the usual, a handful of students had not done the readings.

Others verbalized an emotional reaction that prevented them from reading on.  

We talked for a while and then prepared to end our class session.

 

 I considered letting the discussion drop there {it would have been easy, after all} but I decided to take additional readings off the table for the next week and requested that students take the time to read or re-read the 2 articles and come back for discussion with a response to the question: 

"Why these readings?"

------
This morning we picked up where we left off.

While Twemlow, et al (2005) present skill-based strategies for addressing the complex needs of social systems and families with multiple problems.
Their take-away premise {and why it made better sense to start from the end} is:

Human variety is an essential part of what makes individuals and cultures different and interesting. The issue, from a social system perspective, is a balance of power. (p. 279)

The authors highlight the importance of creating safe space(s) for systems and families to come together and openly discuss our unconscious (implicit) interpretations of the actions of others AND engage in conscious, deliberate (explicit) consideration of each others' actions.
What is somewhat infuriating about this article, despite how spot on it is about the issues and needs at play when considering social policy development/implementation, is one my students were eager to point out: the authors still step around one of the most organizing and influential motivators of policy.  

Race. Racism. Prejudice. 

We, as a discipline centered around social justice and advocacy, acknowledge the factual impact(s) of race* but we struggle to maintain discourse on the meta-narrative of race:  

What are the implicit and explicit beliefs about race that permit disparities to prevail?

*I believe this criticism holds true for other topics as well (gender, sexuality, age, poverty, and privilege) but for the sake of this post, have chosen to focus on race

Over the last couple of weeks, Coates and Chait have engaged in an online discussion that extends well beyond my knowledge base.  Their responses to one another have kept me up at night, forced me to learn more about some of our nation's history and politics, caused me to jump and yell around my living room, made me cry, and have deep discussions about my own beliefs and biases.
It is messy and I love it.

I assigned the Coates piece because I believe it represents one of the more honest conversations I have seen about the intersections of race, social policy, and culture.  The back and forth between Coates and Chait also represents the chasm I believe gets replicated across the country when we, good-meaning folk, try to develop and implement policies/interventions to address the nation's complex social issues.  I believe their dialogue represents a fairly clear picture of the disconnect and denial we maintain amidst our efforts.

Their dialogue demonstrates the discomfiting task of putting explicit language and feeling to the implicit currency of power and privilege {historical and current} which are embedded in the conversation of race.

There is no easy solution to any of this and I stated as such to my students.
But I feel convicted.
To stay engaged and curious.
To challenge status quo.
To push past my fear of not knowing or saying the wrong thing.
To exercise my power and privilege for good rather than evil.
To consider my role in a nation reluctant to acknowledge our steadfast commitment to white supremacy.
To try and create safe space for open and intentional conversation.

Baby steps, y'all.
Baby steps.








Twemlow, S., Fonagy, P., Sacco, F. (2005). A developmental approach to mentalizing communities 1: A model for social change. Bulletin of the Meininger Clinic, 69(4); 265 - 281.

everything i know about relationships, i learned from improv

About 5 years ago, I finally identified {one of} the major malfunction{s} in my marriage:

My husband No Buts when I need him to Yes And.

"It reminds me of this rehearsal game we used to play," I told him.

"Yes And" was a game where one person would start a scene and alternate with a partner to build/expand the scene using the premise of "Yes, and..."  When one of the partners would respond with silence, a dead end, or a "no but" response, another player would take his/her place and begin a new scene. Players had to be focused and intentional. The best, most engaging, and creative scenes were those in which players were able to volley back and forth in a sort of "Yes And" bubble.  

 

My husband recently pulled out "Yes And" with our eldest.

With a smirk, I acknowledged the art of the "Yes And" has become a legitimate framework in our household.  

One on-a-whim audition 18 years ago and everything I know about relationships, I learned from Improv 

{only funnier because Yes And was not the first game to make its way into our marriage...}

Over time {in the real, non-Improv world} I have observed that people generally have an operational style that falls into one of two basic categories:

1) No But-ers  

or

2) Yes And-ers

No But-ers tend to receive what you say and put up verbal or emotional barricades for developing an idea or topic further. This can take many forms and while it is sometimes an explicit "no but..." phrase, it is most often an implicit style of response rooted in insecurity, ignorance, and a tendency toward competition.  As a No But-er's partner, you may often feel defensive, unheard, discouraged, shut down, and shut out.  Most No But-ers do not seem to do this intentionally and the intensity of its impact varies but the relational effect is detrimental just the same.

Yes And-ers tend to receive what you say and erect verbal and emotional bridges to encourage you one or two steps further in your idea or topic.  It may be an explicit "yes and..." statement, or it may be a tacit framework for a conversation that is rooted in empathy, authentic interest, and self-awareness.  As a Yes-And-er's partner, you may feel excited, engaged, heard, and yearn for more time with the person.  While some people appear to come by this style effortlessly, I find that most Yes And-ers seem to be intentional at some level about utilizing this approach. 

This is not to say that people cannot {or do not} slip into the other style, depending on the situation or environment, just that we all have a primary mode.  And most of us don't think this structurally in conversation or relationships, we just have a "feeling" about someone we interact with. However, if we are really thoughtful and honest about it, the ability to take what someone says and build bridges is a challenge we all face. 

 

A part of me wants to think people are more complicated than this but I am not sure we are.  At our core, no matter what our beliefs and our insecurities, we want to be in relationships where we feel safe and heard and engaged and encouraged.  

So, I use this framework. 

{A lot}

I find it provides a very concrete, skill-based frame of reference for how people engage each other

and

I love it because we can practice and, with time, get better at working the "Yes And..."

 

calm the f--- down!

I will not lie: 

I have the urge to say this phrase to any number of people in a given day.

Loved ones, strangers, my kids, clients, other parents, colleagues...

But I don't.

Well, not out loud.

And certainly not at work - 

until last week.

We had a patient who came in - reeking of alcohol and raising a verbal ruckus.

We experienced her as uncooperative and belligerant; she was verbally aggressive and everyone was frustrated with her.

She was asking for help but then refused to let anyone touch her, talk to her, or provide any care.

She lobbed insults and accusations and she was sucking up what felt like valuable time.

The physician made numerous attempts to break through her chaos but her riot was impenetrable.

The physician ordered Haldol.

Our patient was screaming and all I could hear and feel in her cries was trauma.

This patient was not in her right mind and completely out of line {she was drunk, after all} 

but what she expressed were fears born of trauma.  

And here we were, trying our best to care for her, but our best was only fueling her anxieties and fears.

I was standing at the room's periphery; my heart started to race, my palms started to sweat, and I walked closer to the action.

"Okay, everyone take 2 steps back," I said quietly.

The nurse stood at bedside, poised with the needle, trying to find a break in her flailing.

"Please, take a couple steps back," I repeated - this time with more authority.

I stepped into the bedside space the medical team had vacated near her left hip.

"I know this is overwhelming and I hear that you want to get out of here.  But we cannot do that until we are able to clear you medically."

More yelling...but she stopped flailing.

I fixed my eyes on hers and said very slowly:  Right now, You. Need. To. Calm. The. Fuck. Down.

"We cannot help you if you do not calm down.  I will sit here with you and I will listen and I will help you get the support you need but that can only happen if you calm down.  I am going to start some deep breathing and I want you to join me..."

I inhaled and exhaled.  

Inhaled. 

Exhaled. 

Inhaled. 

Exhaled.

She started breathing with me...and talking. 

Talking about her night, about her life, about her trauma(s).

The nurse capped the syringe, started an IV, took her vitals, and began charting. 

The physician took a deep breath and went to see another patient.

The ruckus was over.

 

I am still not sure it was appropriate or professional to engage her like I did but seriously, 

sometimes, 

you just need a little eye contact and a firm reminder to:

 

Calm the fuck down.

this year i decided i am beautiful

there is this moment when i step out of the shower - before i put my contacts in -

when i catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and think, "i see what he means...i am beautiful."

in that moment, i am just stepping out of a kind of sacred space {where i've been thinking and dreaming and processing}

so when i swing the curtain aside and grab a towel,

i am full of energy and ideas and excitement about the possibilities ahead.

in that moment, the physical awareness and impression of myself is nearly a blank slate.

i have a surge of self-confidence, inflated with visions of myself as beautiful and graceful and ready to take on the world.

and then, somewhere in the process of going through the rest of my "getting ready" routine, i start to deflate.

i notice all my flaws.

it is subtle at first but my awareness slowly suffocates the confidence which bolstered me moments before:

the desert on my skin

the fullness of my eyebrows

the way my hair falls - too fine and too thin and not straight but not curly

the way scar tissue distorts my face when i smile

my wide feet

my flabby knees

my ample thighs

my complexion

the pouch i carry even though my little joeys are much too old

the way my clothes are ill-fitting

the list is never ending - even before the fog clears from the bathroom mirror.

but this year, my husband told me he wishes i would see myself as he sees me:

beautiful.

he wishes i would accept his assessment of me and not argue - not add innumerable exceptions.

so this year, i decided i am beautiful.

it is an intellectual-emotional exercise with inconsistent results, but i am trying:

to catch myself in the moments of self-doubt and self-criticism and DECIDE that my assessment is not right.

i AM beautiful.

hey mama, how'd he die?

we talk about death and dying in our house:

the process, the feelings, the smell, the fears, and the theology.

so when my sister flew home early from her most recent international adventure to attend the memorial of a close friend, there was significant conversation about his death and the accompanying "stuff" that comes with something so unexpected 

{suicide}

he was young - too young. 

our oldest {almost 10} sat close as i whats-apped my sister across the ocean about the details, the feelings, the stigma, the questions, and the memories.

as i was furiously typing into my phone, he asked me, "hey mama, how'd he die?"

our oldest already knew the friend had killed himself so what he was really asking about was the mechanism of death.

my husband wasn't home and i was not ready for this conversation.

i said, "hang on, babe" and kept typing furiously - willing him to lose interest.

he eventually started reading his book and didn't ask again.

{phew}

later that night, my husband and i discussed the inevitability of our son asking the question again.

we discussed our feelings about disclosure and discussed the strong encouragement i'd received to withhold disclosure.

i think i dreamed about it that night.

i still was not ready when i woke up.

but that was okay because he didn't ask

until he got in the car on the way home from school.

{ready or not...}

"So, um I really want to ask you something, he starts, but I am not sure you'll answer me."

"I mean, I guess I want to know how he died.  I know he killed himself but, like, how did he do it?"

{shit shit shit shit}

"You are right, I said, I feel a little mixed about telling you. On one hand, Daddy and I have always said when you ask us life questions, we will be open with you and tell you the truth about things - with age appropriate details.  I guess in this case, the whole subject of suicide feels like a more mature topic and I don't feel as resolved about talking about the details"

"But I just keep thinking about it and wondering about it."

Do you talk about suicide with others?  Friends or teachers or...? 

{trying to buy myself time}

"No but I have read about it...in some of my books and heard about it in movies or shows."

"What kinds of ways have you heard about people killing themselves?"

As he shared his knowledge with me, I was struck by its depth - how much he had already picked up from the world around him and how much more comfortable he was at talking about it / putting it into his own words than I was.  

                         In that moment, I decided to tell him, using his words: "he choked himself."

"Oh," he said, "that is really sad.  [pause]  Why do you think he choked himself?"

{I remembered two summers ago when our oldest had an hour+ meltdown in the car - a surge of emotions and feeling helpless - and how in the darkest moments of that meltdown he confessed that he wanted to hurt himself...to kill himself.  We still don't know how those words even made their way to his lips but as we sat parked in the driveway after school...}

I decided to go there.  

To talk about those dark feelings humans have: hopelessness and disconnection and fear and loneliness and anger. 

To talk about my own {irrational?} worries about having this frank conversation, giving him ideas...about this conversation romanticizing suicide.

To talk about the reality of his knowing the depth of those feelings and my hope for him to maintain connections and to reach out when he feels himself in those depths of despair.

To talk about the indelible grief and sadness and guilt that remains for family and friends when someone takes their own life.

We went there. 

In the driveway. 

With the heat blasting and the music turned way down.  

He reached out for the door handle and I said, 

"hey bubs, one more thing...

Sometimes you are going to push me, push your dad away - because that is part of growing up and being your own person - but please remember that we are here for you (as are lots of other family/friends).

You might feel all alone but you are never alone."

"Yeah, I know that," he said and climbed out of the car.

five minutes on the riverwalk

The San Antonio Riverwalk is jam-packed this weekend.

{probably status-quo for the locals but shocking after my sedate introduction mid-week}

I tend to walk fast and often lose patience with the stop and go nature of tourist herds.

So, in an attempt to curb my cranky as I walked to our conference site, I decided to set a 5-minute timer and write down the first sentence of any discrete conversation I heard as I walked:

"I don't think she should be able to say she's the boss of anything..."

"Yes. You totally guilted me into it..."

"...And it just jumped off the page!"

"Hey hon, just calling to say hello..."

"This is all so overwhelming."

"I love that one. I must have it."

"...split her face wide open!"

"Let's make tonight one we won't forget."

"You know those Germans..."

"Are you still disease free?"

"Shake it. Shake it" 

{yes, there we accompanying moves}

"Who's going to support your students...?"

"I don't know how much your mom knows or how much she approves..."

And Voila! I arrived to my destination with a smile on my face.