The Seeking Daddy Project Day 32: Selfies.

   

Me, tonight, tired after a long day.

There's a girl I know and follow on Instagram who literally posts at least one selfie - often several - every single day.

This girl is a Christian, married at the age when most kids would've been starting their freshman year in college, and lives with her barely-20-year-old husband in a suburb of Raleigh as he's in college at the local seminary. 

Now, I'm 10 years her senior and have been a Christian longer than she's been alive...but to me, in my time of doubt and floundering, all those selfies are hurting her witness.

I mean, seriously, every single day? She literally can't do anything - do her nannying job, go to Bible study, go out to dinner, go shopping, etc etc ad nauseum, without posting a selfie about it. Oftentimes with the hashtag #blessed, of course. 

Why does this bother me so much?

Logically, I know she's a child and doesn't know any better. But every time I see another selfie it digs into my subconscious like a little prickly thorn.

Now, I'm not that old: I grew up with the internet, but there were still some things that were sacred. We didn't know where everyone was every moment of the day. We didn't broadcast every adventure or misadventure or shenanigan on Facebook. And ten years ago, on my college campus or in my group of friends,  the idea of constantly posting pictures of oneself on the internet would have seemed, well...like a pathetic waste of time.

I think my distaste stems from the fact that it's insidiously narcissistic. If a girl does her makeup well but doesn't post a selfie about it, I mean, does it even count?

And, dare I ask - where's God in all this?

Here's what I think: #blessed is, more often than not, #boasting. Why does everyone need to know you're getting a manicure or going to the beach or going on a date?

Shouldn't we be constantly trying to take the focus off ourselves and put the focus on God?

I certainly think so. And it's something I need to work on, too. I mean, right after this post, of course. My hair looked pretty good tonight - #blessed!

The Seeking Daddy Project Day 31: Death.

I pay for HBO every month largely for just two shows: The Newsroom and Girls. I'm sure I'll be writing about The Newsroom quite a bit more in the summertime when it comes back on, but for now, Girls is on and I'm strangely fascinated by it.

Since I had a largely puritanical, straight-laced twenty-something experience, a lot of the nuances of Girls don't quite resonate with me.  Even so, many of them do - the insecurity, the questioning, the doubt.  The major shifts.  The minor harmonies that haunt the everyday.

On last night's episode of Girls, Hannah's grandmother is sick and near death.  She goes to the hospital where her mother, aunts, and cousin are all gathered, waiting.  They do a montage of scenes through the night where the three aunts and Hannah are sleeping in the hospital hallway...just passing time waiting for the grandmother to either die...or not.

One of my deepest and scariest truths is that I'm afraid there will be no one there for me when I pass.

I'm 31 years old, unmarried, and childless.  I can't even handle thinking about my five-year-old dog growing older, much less myself.  My younger sister will have children, I'm sure, but how much does an aunt really mean to a twenty-something?  Would you spend the night in a hospital for an aunt?  Would you stop by to visit?  Would you care for her the way you would your mother?

Doubtful.

As I watched that scene, I thought about my own grandmother in the hospital in the months before she died: small, scared, and sick.  Withered.  A shadow of her former self. Doctors and surgeries and pills away from the vibrant woman I remember from my childhood who tended her garden and cooked elaborate meals for her grand-kids.  I remember how sad she looked each time I left.  I remember how hard it was to fit a visit in between school and my work schedule and my plans.  My big plans that didn't really matter.

I wish I hadn't left so soon.

I hope that when I get to be an old lady, whoever my family is won't be so quick to leave me alone in the hospital room.

I hope when I get to be an old lady, I will have family who will visit.

I can only hope.

The Seeking Daddy Project Day 30: Yep.

"The mind of a writer can be a truly terrifying thing.  Isolated, neurotic, caffeine-addled, crippled by procrastination and consumed by feelings of panic, self-loathing, and soul-crushing inadequacy.  And that's on a good day." -Robert De Niro at the 2014 Oscars

I couldn't have written it better.

The Seeking Daddy Project Day 29: Puppy love.

It's one of my greatest sources of pride and joy that my Lottie has absolutely no fear or trepidation of any kind when it comes to humans.  In fact, she can't even conceive of the idea of someone not liking her or not wanting to pet her and cuddle with her.  It's never happened.  She has been surrounded by love her entire life.  Even with people who don't fawn all over her, she will still snuggle up next to on the couch contentedly, because to her, people are big warm buckets of love for her to draw from and enjoy and give her precious poodle affection to, obviously.

The other night, as we were curled up in bed together and she stretched out against me, sleeping, I watched her with my heart swelling.  The fact that my little dog has been well cared for and loved her whole life is something I can't help but feel pride over.

She's my little girl, my sunshine, and the light of my life.  She's curled up right next to me as I type this.  Why wouldn't I take the best care of her that I could?

I then thought about that idea regarding us and God.  Am I like that with God?

Do I fear God?  Sometimes, yes.

Sometimes I view God as a dictator, doing everything His way regardless if it hurts me.

Sometimes I view God as a judge, ready to sentence me for my shortcomings.

Sometimes I view God as a monarch, sitting on His throne watching His peasants starve.

I used to view God as Abba, Daddy, Father, a loving friend and confidante who was always on my side and against whom I could curl up and feel safe with, no matter what.

As I watched Lottie sleep, thinking about how much I love her and how grateful I am that she loves me, I wondered if God feels the same way about me.

Does God watch me sleep with His heart bursting with love and affection for His little girl?

If He does, I wish I could feel it.

The Seeking Daddy Project Day 28: The albatross.

I admit, sometimes my spirit rubs up against being a corporate shill the wrong way.

For the most part, I like my job.  I'm very blessed to have it.  My company fosters a wonderful working environment, my team is supportive and collaborative, and my intelligence and initiative are encouraged and rewarded.  I'm blessed.

But then, sometimes this English major's little soul gets lost in CRMs and ROI and the endless questions of "So how is your company going to make me money?" and I just want to pull out a Victorian novel and hide under my desk.

As I've whined previously, February was tough.  I'm on the sales side of the company, and it was a short month anyway, coupled with several days lost because of the blasted, incessant snow.  We were struggling to even come close to our goals at the end of this month.  I swear, if I find white hairs in my head this weekend, I'll be able to pinpoint exactly the moment, at almost 4pm this afternoon when we still weren't quite there, that they appeared.

All that said, this week, my long-suffering English major heart enjoyed a glimmer of hope when, as I was speaking with the CEO of a company I was trying to get interested in our service, he said something to the effect of "...so it becomes an albatross around their necks."

Coleridge! I thought.  He knows Coleridge!

It's not every day I hear a Romantic poet quoted in everyday business conversation, let me tell you.

And so, to hasten the end of this dreadful month and move happily forward into warmer weather, longer days, and better ability to just get people on the bloody phone and do our jobs, I shall leave you with a little snippet of the poem he was referencing:

Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!To Mary Queen the praise be given!She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,That slid into my soul. -"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner"


Goodnight, folks.  Happy March!

The Seeking Daddy Project Day 27: Apologies.

This week's been rough, y'all. This whole month has, really. And I haven't been handling it well. I've been whiny and petulant and needy and angsty and temperamental. I've complained more than I've comforted, by far. I've gossiped where I should have been graceful. I've responded with consternation instead of with consideration. I've been selfish. And I'm ashamed.

I was at a Rob Thomas concert a few years ago, back when his last solo album came out. Before he sang "Little Wonders," he told us his dog had actually inspired the song. 

"I was feeling all depressed and annoyed at the time, I remember," he said, "But when I got the leash to take my dog on a walk, he was so happy he could hardly stand it. We walked all around and he sniffed everything and had to check everything out and he was just so damn joyful just to be walking with me. And I thought, I am such an asshole. I came home and wrote this song."

I've been working long hours this week, getting home later than normal and collapsing. I haven't been playing with Lottie or paying attention to her as much as usual. Tonight, tired of sitting around all week, I asked her, "Sweetheart, do you want to go on a walk?"

She got so excited that she started darting back and forth and all around the house the way she does when she just can't contain herself with glee. As I was strapping on her harness (which took three tries because she kept wiggling out of my grasp in her happiness), I remembered Rob's story. And in that moment, I felt humbled. I am such an asshole.

Please forgive me. That's all I can really ask. 

The Seeking Daddy Project Day 26: Failure.

Everyone, I have to apologize. Work is crazy busy, I'm overwhelmed, and Lottie is all "I have no mother!" because of how late I've been getting home this week. It's the end of the month and I'm in sales. We have quotas, people. QUOTAS. I'm actually pecking this blog post out on my iPhone because I'm so tired I literally can't go back downstairs and turn the computer on for 5 minutes.

I'll be back with a (real) new post tomorrow - I promise!

Until then, pull up Pandora and listen to "O Danny Boy" in my honor. I love that song - it's hauntingly beautiful.

Onward to Thursday!