Steam rising from a hot cup of tea in a black mug. Public domain image.
I appreciate a warm welcome — a feeling we all need to encounter from time to time. Last Sunday, I was leading a congregational service when one of the community’s leaders brought me a mug of tea. Earlier, she had mentioned that she would leave some water for me. “Or how about some tea?” she asked.
I had actually forgotten about it, but during the first hymn, here comes a nice, warm mug for me. I smiled big, and in addition to sipping it, I enjoyed holding a hot mug. When I then first addressed the congregation, I thanked them for inviting me and welcoming me, and I said, “And [Name] brought me tea! I don’t think anyone has ever given me tea during a service.”
After it was all over, people were lining up near a table to put refreshments on their plate. A person behind the table spotted me, and said, “Oh, for you, let me get some tea,” as in, instead of coffee. The honest truth is, I will almost always choose coffee over tea, but I could tell she wanted to get me what she thought I most loved, and when she handed it to me, she said, “Everyone always drinks coffee, but you and I are tea people.” She said it with pride.
Even though that may not have been totally true, I agreed, and was honored to receive more tea. Because it was so nice to be thought about, accommodated, and warmly welcomed. This is truly a feeling we need to encounter from time to time.
Clocks stacked on top of one another. Public domain image.
Time is a resource.
We may think of time as a resource that allows us to give our presence to others, ourselves, and a variety of experiences. This is true. We may also think of it as a space to fill up with work, chores, and projects. Have some spare time? Ah, this is an opportunity to “get things done!” Of course, it may be that very kind of opportunity; sometimes, that may be precisely what we need. Our mental health can be bolstered by a sense of mastery and clearing away what needs to be done.
But… if this is always how we’re using excess or bonus time, or if we have a reality or a perception that tells us we must fill this with work and to-do list tasks (internalized capitalism, anyone? Or… a post-traumatic flight response, anyone?) then we may grow a sense of exhaustion, frustration, and resentment. In reality or in perception, we are experiencing time famine. We don’t have enough free time.
The opposite concept is time affluence.
Sometimes, people find themselves chasing after financial wealth, and busyness can be a sign of that pursuit. At the same time, the very systems that allow people to rise to that kind of “top,” often create oppression for others. Time famine is present for those who are on a rat-race laden, climb of the ladder. Others have time famine because there is true financial poverty, and they must do an immense amount of work to pay the bills or simply survive.
Wherever we find ourselves between these poles, how do we create more time affluence for ourselves and others?
Our mental health plummets when we feel time famine, and it is greatly improved by time affluence. Psychologists are noting that some people are choosing to prioritize opportunities for more free time, rather than making more money; time is also a resource and a value. Of course, there is a great deal of privilege in having such a choice to make. Not everyone has that same set of choices. So again, if we have time affluence, or the ability to choose more of it, how can we advocate for others to have the same? And as a bigger question, how do we build communities and structure society so that there are more willful choices and opportunities to share resources — money, time, relationships, care, and more?
Over the last year, I’ve had the pleasure of supporting and cheerleading a movie that is about to go into production. It’s called “Under the Lights.” It’s directed by Miles Levin and has a star- studded cast.
A couple of years ago, Miles Levin directed and released a 12 minute long, award-winning short film with the same name. Sam, a teenager with epilepsy, is desperate to be just like any other kid, and he decides to go to prom, knowing that the lights will likely make him have a seizure.
Director Miles Levin is also a person with epilepsy, and years after the creation of the short film, this full-feature movie is going in production, having secured a talented cast and raised a great deal of money to make it happen. Miles Levin, the Epilepsy Foundation, and many others in our larger community are thrilled to support a film that will build epilepsy awareness with empathy.
Oh, and per my title, my name really is going to be in the credits. And I’m going to get to go to the premiere. (I’m really excited about this!) I’m proud of Miles and our wider community.
I’d love to show you the 12 minute short film: Here’s Under the Lights! Stay tuned for a longer movie in theatres in 2025.
A cup of McDonald’s coffee. Flickr/Westy48/Public domain.
When I was 7 years old, while my parents were at work, I spent each day of the summer with my Grandfather. And many days of that summer, he and I went to McDonald’s or Hardee’s so he could get coffee and I could get a kid’s meal. Inevitably, I would be excited, because what 7 year old doesn’t want a Happy Meal?
But once we were there, eventually things would take a turn for me. I would get so bored. After I ate that hamburger and fries, and probably got a toy, well beyond the time of excitement, my Papaw would still be drinking coffee. He was such a slow coffee drinker.
The cute thing about this — well, cute to me now, torturous when I was 7 — is that he was pretty playful about telling me he was “almost done.” That man was almost never almost done. I’d ask, “Can we go?” and he’d say, “I’m almost done. I have just a little bit more,” and the cup was 3/4 full.
If you’re a GenXer or Elder Millennial, you might remember that when we were little and at McDonald’s, you could turn in the seats and allllmost go a full circle. I’d turn that chair to the right 180 — snap — and turn that chair to the left 180 — snap — back and forth, making a toy of my seat, while this man sipped a cup of Joe, and a glacier may as well have moved outside. Of course, all these years later, I treasure the memory of my boring summer meals with Papaw.
One of my favorite aspects about my life is that I have a lot of families around the country that I like to visit. They each make up a big chosen family for me, and each of their houses feels like a home away from home.
A few years ago, one of the people said to me, “Don’t you drink like 5 cups of coffee a day?” I love the Keurig maker in their house and that glorious San Antonio brand of coffee they have. I realized this questioner was serious. “No, definitely no more than two,” I said.
Then it dawned on me that the confusion lies in how many times a day I warm up my coffee in the microwave. Oh my gosh, I am Papaw, I thought. I, too, drink it slowly. This person thought I was drinking forever, five cups a day. The glaciers are also moving through Texas.
Then last week, in a different location, I heard a little voice say, “Will you play with me?” and unthinkingly, I said, “Well, first, I want to finish my coffee. I’m almost done.” (Except I actually was almost done). And once more, I was Papaw’s double.
Life has an interesting way of making a throughline.
A blurry photo of the U.S. Capitol at night. Traffic is facing away from the building and coming in the direction of the viewer. Photo, Renee Roederer.
After finishing dinner, I crossed the street to get on the D.C. Metro, and as I walked along the crosswalk, the U.S. Capitol suddenly came into view. Since I’m not as familiar with the area, I didn’t expect that emergence, I smiled at the discovery and took a photograph.
But then, it suddenly in dawned on me that I was standing on a street corner on the very route that people took to march to the Capitol — that arrival that soon after, became an insurrection on January 6. It gave me pause. I was able to picture all of that in a new way, and it felt very real.
Last week, a friend sent one of my community groups a podcast recommendation. It’s the story of white supremacist race riot that took place in Wilmington, North Carolina in 1898, which then ended in a coup of the state government through rigged election. After that happened, these very legislators in North Carolina began to codify a series of laws that eventually came to be known as Jim Crow. The podcast is about how media was complicit in willingly distorting and then completely burying the story of what happened in Wilmington. People didn’t come to know about it again until recent years, because thankfully, Black writers left breadcrumbs of information for people to discover later.
Additionally, I’ve been noticing something taking place on my Facebook feed. I’m finding that there are a lot of beautiful and cute images showing up from accounts I’ve never followed — some look real, some look AI generated. Typically, they’re nature images. What’s the harm in sharing images like these?
To give one example, there was a beautiful photo (maybe real, I don’t know) from a group that called something like, Michigan Beauty. It showed up on my feed. I had never followed it, but there it was. I loved the image and thought, “Oh, that’s a group I would actually join.” So I went to join, and there were membership questions, including, “Do you live in Michigan?” and “What is your zip code?”
And I thought… Maybe this is getting us primed for the election, because I live in a possible swing state. Where do you live, so later, we can show you, not nature photos, but other media and alternative facts? Not necessarily on the page of “Michigan Beauty” but so you can be targeted with ads and the like?
No, thank you.
I probably wouldn’t have had that thought in the slightest, if I wasn’t also aware that I had never followed this group, yet it had emerged on my feed. (Did a FB friend like it? Was it paid for, like an ad? Some other way? Why is it on my feed?)
I’m not a conspiracy theorist. But I’m a realist. And I’m also still realistically hopeful at what we can create together, while being diligent. I think we need to be hopeful, but diligent.
I had the pleasure of spending the weekend with a precious six year old who is sweet, funny, cuddly, and so very playful. From the moment she wakes up to the moment she goes to bed, she is constantly engaging herself and others in pretend play. “Let’s play snake!” (with a jump rope). “Let’s play campsite!” (gets out the sleeping bag). And my favorite of the weekend, “Let’s play roommates with these paper dolls! This is the bed, this is the kitchen, and this is the bathroom. Pretend that every time you go into a room, I surprise you because I’m already there.” Each surprise scenario led to so many giggles.
This had me wondering — and I giggled myself about this — what if people my age had the exact same mindset and way of being in the world, but with this-age things?
Pretend you’re having a midlife crisis!
Act like you’re about to sign for a mortgage, but the previous owners back out of the deal!
Okay, you’re about to make dinner, but you realize you don’t have enough energy, so you just go to Chipotle.
Maybe that wouldn’t quite work. But her way of being is inviting. I think we could do with more imagination, possibility-thinking, and believing that things could turn out beautifully, even magically. We just have to be open to them, try them out, engage in the right kind of scenarios, and together, make them so.
A couple weeks ago, we initiated a series on attachment styles. If you missed the introductory post, you can go there, and then you can learn more about the core wounds of each insecure attachment style. From these, we can consider what our attachment styles are, as well as how these impact our internal feelings and relationships.
To recap a little, there are four primary attachment styles. There is the secure attachment style, and three insecure attachment styles — 1) anxious preoccupied, 2) fearful avoidant (also sometimes called disorganized or anxious-avoidant), and 3) dismissive avoidant. There is a great deal of psychological research around these, first championed by John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth, and a lot of interest in recent years.
Attachment styles develop very early in life, though we can work to heal these patterns. From these patterns, we often build narratives around the scaffolding of our own fears, and they can cause friction in our relationships.
Today, I’ll invite us to learn again from Thais Gibson, a therapist who has done tremendous work in these areas. These videos are about protest behaviors. What are these? They care coping mechanisms, triggers, and behaviors we take to the manage closeness and space in relationships, particularly during times of stress and conflict.
Smuggling Grace 