Author: gracesmuggler

This is one of my favorite questions to ask people:

What is something you learned incorrectly as a child but only realized well into your adulthood?

This is a fantastic question! It leads to stories that are very dear and often, quite hilarious. Some people talk about words they mispronounced for decades, only revealed, of course, when they blurted them aloud in a group setting. Others talk about illogical beliefs they internalized as kids which emerged unexpectedly in their minds years later (or were also voiced aloud!) These come as a total surprise because people hadn’t even thought about the topic, let alone questioned their young belief, until that very moment.

This American Life has an entire episode of stories like these. My favorite involves a moment when a college student approached other college students at a campus party and asked the question, “So… are unicorns just really rare, or did they go entirely extinct?”

Hysterical. Totally embarrassing. But also so dear. I love it!

With all of this in mind, I will now admit that I have an embarrassment of riches of stories like these from my own life. And lucky for you, I am enough of an extroverted, like-to-tease-myself, like-to-share-stories-with-others human to put one of them into writing right here.

My favorite personal story of this kind involves the nine year window when I didn’t believe in reindeer.

Yes, you heard that correctly.

Now I hope this doesn’t come as a total surprise or crush anyone’s dreams, but when I was eight years old, I learned the sad truth that Santa wasn’t real. (Are you okay? I hope so). In the moment of this revelation, I was pretty of devastated. I was also deeply concerned that I wouldn’t get presents anymore.

So in the midst of my sadness, I resigned myself to reality. So much so, in fact, that I just kind of… over-steered. I just assumed… that… reindeer weren’t real either.

I mean, come on. They fly! Flying reindeer? No way.

At least there was some sort of evidence of Santa’s existence. Gifts showed up annually, so there was something tangible to associate with him. Plus, I saw him in all the malls!

But once I knew the sad truth, how could I possibly believe in flying, antlered caribou? Reindeer quickly went the way of the unicorn. (Ahem… not extinct. Non-existent).

That is, until… I was 17 years old. That is, until… I was flipping through the channels and saw a nature documentary on my television set.

A British accented, David Attenbourough wannabe voiced commentary as creatures walked around in the snow, plunging their faces into the frigid stuff, attempting to nibble on frozen grasses. “The reindeer are in the tundra,” the David Attenbourough wannabe said in all his formal tones.

And I started laughing. Laughing! “The reindeer! In the tundra! Yeah…”

But then, my laughing stopped abruptly, and my mouth gaped open. As I sat alone in the living room of my childhood home, in my last year before legal adulthood, a recognition completely washed over me. It dawned on me — at age 17 — that reindeer are REAL.

I had indeed over-steered. The reindeer had been in the tundra this whole time.

This whole time.

–Renee Roederer

I heard a short podcast episode this week that I’d like to pass onto you.

It’s just 11 minutes along. While listening, I think I was beaming most of the time. Without reducing either into a simple box or definition, this episode really uplifts the great gifts of young adulthood and the relational practice of eldering.

It’s a short interview with Krista Tippett from On Being. On Being has started a segment called “Living the Questions” where listeners ask questions of Krista, and she gives her own thoughts and perspectives. This episode starts with this question:

“Where do we allow space for young people to access and articulate their sense of power and purpose, their vulnerability and their courage?”

Good question.

Krista Tippett begins by talking about her own childhood, teenage years, and young adulthood. She then mentions some of the particular forms of wisdom that come with various stages of life. She believes we can share these very intentionally in cross-generational relationships.

I want to lift just a couple of quotes:

“. . . if I think back to myself at those ages, of being a teenager and of being a young adult, is at the same time that, in some ways you know you still have everything to learn and everything to experience, and you can feel so frustrated by what you don’t yet know and haven’t yet done and don’t yet know if you can — you have this sense of urgency. I really think of this as the wisdom of young adulthood and of the teenage years, you have this sense of urgency about what is possible. You have this real curiosity about the big, soaring questions, and what it’s all about, and what your life might all be about. You can see the world whole, and you want to make that real. And I think that that urgency of a person at this stage of life is a real gift to the world.”

and

“That’s one of the things that flows into my passion, these days, about eldering and about cross-generational relationship, because that urgency is fierce, but it’s also fragile. And I really think it needs to be accompanied to stay alive, to stay confident in itself. But also, when you are bringing that particular gift to the world, it hurts. That urgency hurts. It’s painful, in kind of an exquisite way, to be able to see the world whole, to long for so much, for so much to be possible. So, to have people in your life who can honor that and accompany it, and not give you a reality check — that’s not what we want from our elders, although we may sometimes want counsel — but actually just embody — I do feel like this is also true of parenting. When your kids are in these aching places of just being human, one of the things that feels natural is to want to be in it with them, to feel their pain. Your child, your teenager is awake all night, you’re awake all night. And it’s not that I am really good at disconnecting, but at some point I understood that what a parent or an elder can offer a younger person is to embody, just physically embody the fact that there is life beyond this moment, that there is calm and groundedness to be found, that one aspires one day to bring together and integrate, also, with the fierceness and passion you have and longings you have and to embody that reality — to temper that really valuable impatience of youth with a lived experience that patience also has its place. Not that the two cancel each other out, but that they can walk together.”

I love all of this. I have also found it to be true.

As I think about the upcoming academic year in Ann Arbor, I am all-in for this kind of vision. That’s not entirely new, of course; for a long while, this is what has most called me most over time. But there are moments when we feel as though we are readying to practice it more deeply, more intentionally.

I’m all about that. And beaming.

Have a listen.

–Renee Roederer

As I shared recently, I’ve started doing improv with a local group. (It’s so much fun!)

This week, we played an improv game where a person tells a real life story…

Then the group initiates three scenes, loosely inspired by that story…

The first person then tells another real life story, loosely inspired by those scenes…

Then three more scenes….

Then one final, real life story…

Then three more scenes.

That’s the cycle. When we played the game, I got to be the storyteller. I told three, true stories — three funny moments that have happened over the years with others. Some of these stories are the kinds that invite people to respond, “You couldn’t make that up!” I loved delivering these stories in the moment.

I’ve played a similar role in the group multiple times now, telling stories just like this. This time, after the entire improv night was over, one of the participants said to me:

“How do you have so many stories? How did all these things happen to you?”

In response to these questions, I just beamed. This was a wonderful surprise because these are the exact questions people used to ask my very formative, surrogate father David. “How do you have so many stories? How did all these things happen to you?”

Here I was, hearing the exact same questions asked of me.

Sometimes, life rhymes a bit. And I just reveled in that connection.

—Renee Roederer

My friend sent me this surprise gift in the mail last weekend. As you all likely know, I really love Fred Rogers, and I look forward to reading this book. I was so grateful to receive it.

Alongside that, I also found myself pondering the gift of being cared for… the surprise of receiving… Just wonderful. That is a really incredible gift and something I never want to take lightly.

We never know how simply thinking of a person, then letting them know, impacts their day or fuller direction.

I really believe this to be true:

Moments of care and connection — even small ones — can be so transformative. These gifts of care and connection help us endure in times of stress and struggle. And they help us thrive in times of energy. I don’t think we should ever underestimate them!

So when people pop into our minds, maybe with gratitude, or maybe as we remember a need they’re facing, let’s reach out. Let’s say we’re thinking of them. Let’s add the affirmation we noticed. Let’s help people feel seen in times of loss or challenge.

This really changes things.

–Renee Roederer

Last night, I performed a comedy set at Pointless Brewery and Theatre. If you’d like to watch, there’s a video right here.

It’s silly!

Image Description: A busy street intersection with crosswalks, street lights, buildings, and pedestrians.

I find Frederick Buechner to be an especially quotable author. He just has so many good things to say, and over the years, I’ve passed on a lot of his words to people. In particular, I’ve shared this quote with a lot of college students who are doing vocational discernment:

“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

This is a statement that is helpful to college students and young adults who are pondering vocation and calling. But also, whatever our age, we’re continually discerning these things all the time. Perhaps this framing is particularly important in this moment we’re living, this consideration of where deep gladness and deep need meet.

The needs and injustices around us are enormous, and we may be grappling with seeing them in new ways, or even for the first time. Immigration… Hunger… Police brutality… Voter suppression… Environmental devastation… Late-stage capitalism… Racism… Sexism… Transphobia… And now, COVID-19…

This is a good time to ask questions like,

What is my best skill, gift, or calling?
How am I using that for a sense of the common good?
How might I do that?

We need everyone using their best skills, gifts, and callings in the direction of these large, systemic challenges.

“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

Where might that intersection be for you?
What could it look like in practice?
Is there anything we need to clear out of the way to actually do it?

–Renee Roederer

This quote from Frederick Buechner comes originally from his book Wishful Thinking.

I’m going to take a social media fast today.

These days, I have created some personal rhythms for checking social media. I want to be informed and connected; I do not want to be constantly immersed.

In other words, I want to remain hopeful (not pie in sky unrealistic, but genuinely hopeful) and active in those connections. I want to know what’s happening in our world and in our neighborhood, including how people feel about it. And… I do not want to become so bogged down that I find myself shutting down, either becoming completely overwhelmed or totally numb to it all.

This is a hard line to walk sometimes. It’s not predictable or cut and dry. I think we have to listen to our bodies, prioritizing care of ourselves and each other.

After all, no community or cause is helped by me sitting at home, constantly refreshing newsfeeds, deeply caring about what I’m reading, but unable to do anything in the precise moment except grow overwhelmingly anxious.

This reduces mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual resources. Our bodies matter. Our resources for our communities matter.

So it’s okay sometimes to step away from social media. It can help us refresh personally and connect in ways that remain hopeful and active.

I’m taking that fast today, and while I do it, I want to focus more deeply on becoming centered — for my often anxious body, for my often anxious community.

–Renee Roederer

“Improv is a highly extroverted, only child’s absolute dream!”

That’s what I blurted out after doing a long form improv jam last night. I’ve been doing this most weeks this summer. Some folks have started this weekly gathering — it’s called The Mash — and it’s a hilarious time of fun, connection, creativity, and play. I’ve never done anything like this until this summer, but I am loving it. After all, improv is a highly extroverted, only child’s absolute dream!

Well, that’s just me.

But anyone can try it, even if you’re brand new to it, and it’s really a great time.

And while improv might feel frivolous (I mean, in many ways, it is) it’s also true to life. Improv moves on the concept of Yes-And. When someone spontaneously creates a character and a scenario for a scene, you just go with it. You say ‘Yes’ to it and then add to it. This can also involve adding a twist from time to time! A scene is created fully in the moment as everyone steps into that moment and adds to it, initiating a creative interplay.

Life is not always spontaneous to this degree, but it often requires this way of living. We add ourselves and make choices based on the parameters around us. These are not always parameters we choose, but within them, we can make choices and add to them. We can create connections with others and create a world within them. Other times, we may form those connections precisely to push up against the parameters themselves. This is empowering!

Improv is also a way of living.

MaryAnn McKibben Dana has especially done a lot of writing in this direction. Great stuff. And she has a new book which sounds phenomenal. If the themes of this post speak to you, or if you just want to delve in more into playfulness and a spirituality of the stuff of life, I especially recommend her new book to you. It’s called God, Improv, and the Art of Living.

I’m going to think about this more intentionally today. And play with the parameters.

–Renee Roederer

Yesterday, I called one of my most beloved people and named an anxiety I was carrying. It wasn’t a major worry, certainly not a crisis. But I needed to hear myself say it, especially in the presence of someone who loves me, so that I could release it. Sometimes, we need this.

So I sent him a text and said:

“I’m going to call and leave you a message. No need to pick up.”

I knew I could drop it off, and that would have been enough.

But he did answer. And I did get to say what I needed to say. And the conversation turned into a wonderful pep talk with his encouragement.

But what was perhaps most meaningful, was that after I said a little bit of what I needed to say, when he added his encouragement, he sort of expanded what my anxiety was about before I even had to say it. Because this is a person who knows me very deeply.

And I found myself pondering once more what a gift that is.

We all need people who really know us, deep down – our stories, our patterns, our gifts, our triggers, our personalities, our wonkiness, our particular-ness, our belovedness -people who love us through and through.

We all need that.

Yesterday, I felt really lucky.

–Renee Roederer

This is today.

It might not become the most significant day of our lives. But there’s no reason for it to be among the least significant.

What do we want to make of this day? What do we want to experience? What do we want to learn? How do we want to connect?

This is a really mundane post, I realize.

But it’s a reminder that we get to choose a lot. Certainly not everything — sometimes, much is beyond our control — but we definitely have some choices and possibilities before us.

What do we hope for this day? What will we choose?

–Renee Roederer