I see you and I hear you

eric and I made it through five seasons of parenthood on netflix and are waiting for the sixth. I didn't like the show at first but a friend said to stick with it and we did and then there we were totally hooked and looking at each other saying "one more, right?" late at night when we really should have been sleeping.

in one episode one of the couples goes to therapy together and the homework the therapist gives them is for the husband to say to his wife "I see you and I hear you" instead of jumping in with his own agenda. he rarely remembers to do this on his own, but she gives him THE LOOK and then he repeats his phrase as instructed, sometimes sheepishly, sometimes through clenched teeth. until he gets it, of course, because that is what happens in television and then he loves her for who she is and we all live happily ever after, amen.

eric and I now say it to each other. it started as a joke, but then it became a check-in point in my brain, this place to acknowledge how I am treating him and how I want to be treated by him. then of course, being the over-thinker that I am, I started thinking it about my kids, especially cora who is working so hard through some big emotions lately. those times when she is screaming about her shoes not matching her outfit (a dilemma I cannot relate to or take seriously), all I can tell her is "I see you and I hear you." and not in a flippant way, either. truly, I see her: I see that this is hard. and I hear her. I can't help but hear her because she is shrieking at me about footwear, but also I hear what she isn't able to say: "this is hard for me, all these big feelings. it isn't really about my shoes. I don't know how to tell you any other way." so the best I know to do is to grant her the gift of seeing her and hearing her. sometimes that is enough.

and isn't that all any of us want? isn't so much of what we do a request to be seen and heard? it is changing the way I see my relationships. it is changing the role I have in my family. it changes the way I see my job this summer. and it chances the way I want to share myself with the world.

I'm writing curriculum with a new friend for camp this summer. we've settled on a theme I really love, and I am enjoying the research and planning and writing it takes to put something like this together. we talk a lot about the idea of having a calling, of answering that call, of living out what we've been called to do. and what we know is true of all callings is that they are best achieved though great love. "I see you and I hear you" is the best expression of great love that I can think of. to pause to really see someone, to take time to really hear is the greatest gift I know to give. and I want to be good at it.

so I practice on eric. and my kids. and you. practicing is the only way I know to make it real. and even in practice it seems pretty effective. there is a lot to be seen and heard right here in front of me. there is a lot of seeing and hearing to be done all over the place, really. but the thing about seeing people and hearing people is not so much what we can then do for them, but the change it brings within our own eyes and heads and hearts. big change starts in small ways. let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.

it is easy to be overwhelmed by big world things. it is easy to get charged up and swept away with the noise. but that is not the calling here. here the calling is to see and hear. to hear the big din rising from the masses, but even more to hear the single voice whispering in your heart. to see the sadness that comes with natural disasters and human-made catastrophes, but to see the simple ways we can love those right in front of us.

so I see you. I hear you. and we are both better for it.

throwback thursday: my 25

(remember when this happened all over Facebook eons ago? mega bonus points if you find your list and post it in the comments. hilarious to see what has changed and what hasn't. and if you've been waiting for the purple bucket, your prayers are soon to be answered!)

February 22, 2009 at 10:06pm

now that this is officially played out and untrendy, here's mine.

I have seven holes in my ears, but I only wear earrings in three of them, all in my left ear. my dad used to ask me if this made my head feel lopsided. it doesn't.

I hate being in bed with socks on. if you are in the bed with me, you can't wear socks either. this is a problem for eric because my feet are usually the temperature of ice cubes.

eric and I went to the same college all four years and never once met each other. I am thankful for this on a regular basis.

in high school I was adamant that I would die before thirty. now that that is pretty close, I hope I was a little off in my prediction.

I named my kid after a rapper, a musician I'd like to make out with, and a county in georgia. I am eager for him to appreciate all these things.

I have kept a journal consistently since I was 13, except for my senior year of high school. I don't know why I didn't write that year. chances are good that if you are reading this list, your name is in one of them.

I hate to drive. I have always hated to drive. I have a terrible sense of direction, sitting at stoplights makes me want to claw my own eyes out, and traffic is unacceptable to me. I hardly ever have to drive anymore, and I very much like my life this way. 

for those of you wondering about the shoes in the shower thing, I got over it.

I really like to read. in fact, as a consequence when I was little I was not allowed to read. I always felt rather noble when this punishment was issued, reading signs and billboards as we drove through town, knowing they could never really stop me from reading.

when I hear someone talking I read the words like a typewriter in my head. sometimes I see actions this way, too. I see numbers spelled out except years, addresses, and phone numbers. I do not know why this happens, but it is very important for me to know how people spell their names when I meet them so I am seeing the word correctly.

I know a lot of songs. jesus songs, old television jingles, songs from musicals, camp songs. mostly camp songs. I can entertain large groups of children for long periods of time because of this talent.

I do not open screwtop beers for myself, and I will not drink beer from a can. 

I love compost. I got worms as an anniversary gift one year. when we are settled somewhere enough to stay for a while, I'd really like my own pitchfork.

I love my birthday more than any other day in the year.

I like to think about introducing myself now to myself at other ages in my life. what would my twelve-year-old self say about who I am now? I can think about it for long stretches of time.

I have been a vegetarian for eight years. the reasons are different now, but I started because I really like making rules for myself. I just like self-imposed structure and tend to like it even more when I am feeling particularly out of control. that rule just happened to stick I guess.

I am pretty sure I was a mermaid in a former life. I dream about them a lot.

I do not have a tattoo simply because I am a gemini and cannot keep my mind made up about what to get permanently etched on my body.

my family moved a lot when I was little. because I was always the new kid at school, I had lots of talks with my mom about how you never know where you'll find your next friend and people's "best friend potential". I still find myself sizing everyone else to see how they might fit into my life: waiters and waitresses, people I buy things from on craigslist, the receptionist at the midwifery (hi, kelly!). sometimes it really pays off.

summer camp is the best thing that ever happened to me, hands down. 

I love to have my picture taken.

in high school I thought I hated to dance. I have since learned how very wrong I was.

someday I plan to own a bar called "the purple bucket". (say it out loud and try not to smile. it's tough.)

my parents used to tell us that cars do not work unless everyone is wearing a seatbelt. I believed them until I was probably twelve or so.

I cannot believe I just spent my thirty baby-free minutes making this list.