Change – Page 2 – Chloe J Sayers

Change, Life Lessons, Maturity, Pain, Writing

The World Is Too Much With Us

The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;

–William Wordsworth, The World Is Too Much With Us

It feels like that alot nowadays, doesn’t it?

At least it does for me. Life is good. Really good, actually. I remind myself of that often when I have gray days. I write out my lists of gratefuls and count my blessings and I’m blown away by all the wonderful things in my life

a loving husband
delicious food
a great job
a caring church
family
friends
flowers
chocolate milk

The list goes on and on. And yet, the world is still too much with us. The daily drudgery of waking up, driving around, doing work, making food, eating food, doing dishes, and then doing it all over again can be slowly exhausting.

Without real problems in my life, I find myself obsessing over small insignificant decisions. Do I go to the gym or run errands during my lunch? Stir-fry or spaghetti for dinner? What does “crisp-tender” actually mean? Are my vegetables simultaneously crispy and tender? Have I been making stir-fry wrong for the past 18 months?

These are the kind of questions that can make you stare aimlessly at the ceiling for whole minutes until you start worrying about yourself staring aimlessly.

This post is untimely, because we’re facing a lot of political change which many people would classify as a Big Issue and here I am complaining about lots of little tiny issues. But personal energy and outlook doesn’t sync perfectly with political cycles.

My husband is great at these small problems. Usually, he reminds me that the exact problem is that I’m thinking about everything in regards to optimizing my schedule perfectly or more generally, interpreting life with myself at the center.

Most of my problems in life do circle back to an unhealthy focus on self. Which is why I’ll start this blog the way it began–with a poem:

So when at times the mob is swayed
To carry praise or blame too far,
We may choose something like a star
To stay our minds on and be staid.

–Robert Frost, Choose Something Like A Star

Change, Friendship, Life Lessons

Living with Ghosts

Every single time I drive to work, Bad Blood plays at least twice on the radio. And every time I 295591 hear the sad saga about the inadequacy of Band-Aids to cover bullet-hole sized wounds, I try to gather up those “I hate my back-stabbing friend” emotions (it’s a long drive and it gets boring) but I can’t think of a single friendship that ended with knife scars. I almost wish I could, partly so I could empathize with Taylor, but mostly because even a angst-filled relationship sounds good right now compared to __________ (I’ve got a blank space and I’ll write your name).

We joked about getting all of life’s transitions (graduating college, getting married, moving away from home, moving across the country, starting new jobs) out of the way in two months but the reality of that drastic upheaval is wishing you were part of a T-Swift video just so you’d have some friends nearby. To the many friends I do have, thank you for keeping up. Thank you for the texts, calls, letters, and e-mails that remind me that I am loved and in a way, who I am. I know we shouldn’t define ourselves by who we are to other people, but we do and I have learned how much I depend on those coffee dates and conversations to help me process life and determine who I am and where I’m going.

Taylor Swift may be ubiquitous but there are so many things in Southern California that are new to me. My runs around the neighborhood are a full aromtheraputic experience, ranging from roses to delicious Mexican dinners. It’s different working full-time instead of being an eternal intern. It’s far different to be a wife than a fiance and much more wonderful. I can see palm trees out my bedroom window and the work break room and everywhere else.

Change, Cooking, Life Lessons

365 Days Later

If I’m reading my Facebook news feed correctly, everyone graduated this weekend. Congrats! I personally had the pleasure of jetting up to San Francisco and watching my talent sister receive a well-deserved Bachelors of Fine Arts. Pretty sure she exerted more energy in a week of dance classes than I did in my entire 4 years of scurrying across my square mile campus.

It’s cliche, but true, that it’s hard to believe an entire year has passed since I too sweated in a black hospital gown and tried to keep my cap from escaping off my head (my hair has a mind of its own and didn’t like the competition).

Other than telling you how awesome my sister is, I don’t have a great thesis for this blog post but I’ve been in a reflect-y mood lately and figured other recent alums might be in the same boat.

Side Note: I’ve noticed lately that I over-hyphenate. See last 2 sentences for examples. Not sure when this started, but every time I read something I write I find at least 5 unnecessarily hyphenated words. I’m considering removing the worn-out punctuation mark from my keyboard. Just did it again. Unbelievable.

Post-college life has been far better & far worse than I imagined. Off the top of my head, below are my top unexpected life lessons from the last 12 months.

1. Keeping yourself alive (without spending a fortune) isn’t as easy as it seems

Most recent college grads don’t have $500 to blow on food each month. Limited grocery budgets means a lot of planning, home-cooked meals, and leftovers. Some weeks, getting food on the table EVERY SINGLE DAY takes more strategy than a pro chess game.

2. Evenings are the BEST

In college, there is no clocking out. Study, sleep, shower and repeat dominate your schedule. Once other people start paying you to do work instead of you paying to volunteer your free labor, you can actually stop working. In fact, it’s recommended if you want a working lifespan of longer than 3 month stints.

3. Everything changes but then it doesn’t.

The first few months out of college were a Wizard of Oz level tornado. Getting married, moving across the country, new job, car insurance, realizing you grossly overpaid for car insurance 3 months later, the list of “real world” acclimating to-dos felt endless. Until it ended. And then you feel sadly nostalgic and wonder why your life doesn’t change dramatically every semester anymore.

Three?! That’s all I could come up with after moving cross-country, new jobs, weddings, innumerable finger cuts from bulk slicing onions, and dozens of conversations with post-grad friends?!

I need your help, guys. What have you learned in this past year (or years) of finding our own little corners of the world?

Change, God, Life Lessons, Time

T of Death (3/3)

Gutenberg didn’t invent the printing press out of thin air. According to Where Good Ideas Come From, he recycled some of the technology involved in a wine press to invent the printing press. In its most simplified version, that’s the Adjacent Possible. Most new great ideas or inventions are only possible because there are adjacent to something that already exists. It’s like getting to a room on the 2nd floor by walking up the stairs and through a hallway. You can’t teleport there, but with the right combination of steps, you’ll get to that 2nd floor room.

The Adjacent Possible is a fascinating idea that’s great at explaining how we got from pressing grapes to printing books, but terrible when applied to one’s life path.

I like doing things. I was an Overly Involved High School Student who became an Overly Involved College Student. Like I’ve written in other posts, being overly vague in one’s skills or overly specialized can be paralyzing. So can walking aimlessly through open doors just because they’re open. Being an Overly Involved Person meant that I had a lot of different opportunities.

And being a believer in the Adjacent Possible meant I took 99% of them.

I thought I liked doing things, so it didn’t matter what work I did, as long as I was working. Turns out, it does matter what kind of work I’m doing. Evidently, just walking through the next open door might land you in a room that isn’t where you should be.

I’m just now learning that it’s okay to walk out. Climb through a window if you need to. Re-orient yourself, buy a map, chart a course, change those plans, make 3 year goals, 5 year goals, and adjust them all tomorrow. But if you know you’re in the wrong room, staying there longer won’t get you where you need to go. Keep moving and keep dreaming.

In other words, I quit my job last week.

Adios Adjacent Possible. I’d rather be known for who I was than having the longest resume around.

Until next time,
Chloe

Change, Friendship, Happiness, Life Lessons, Maturity, Pain, Time

Impossible Nostalgia

I just wish things were the way they never have been. 174984

It’s fall in Southern California, which means that it’s not fall at all. Palm trees don’t change leaves, and over-priced cider from Walmart isn’t the same as freshly squeezed apple nectar from an orchard.

At first, I attributed my intense nostalgia to the lack of autumn here and a general homesickness. Yet, as I attempted to self-medicate this heart sickness through Facebook crawling and copious amounts of decaffeinated tea (official sign of the end of college life), I realized that I was battling an impossible nostalgia.

I have this idea that at some indeterminate point in my past, I enjoyed quality time with my closest friends while attending a continual coffeehouse and the charms of my hometown. The reality is, many of my closest friends from college graduated before I did. School was stressful and cafeterias are inhumane and I was more likely to be serving coffee than sipping it in acoustic bliss. Not only that, but I have dear kindred souls from childhood and high school and none of them are ever in the same place at the same time. And if I walked through the streets of my hometown, very few would remember my name or face.

It’s a feeling of impossible nostalgia that carries the hope of a reunited tomorrow.

I am not missing out on anything nor can I return to this rose-tinted moment that never existed. And I have hope for my own Clapham group in the future. Luke and I are so blessed to have such incredible friends from coast to coast. Maybe, one day, we’ll all be within driving distance (or at least the same time zone). I know I’m biased because the common denominator between you all is my husband and I, but I promise you it would be awesome if we gave it a try. Because you all have already impacted our lives in so many ways for so much good. Thank you.

Until next time,
Chloe

Change, Church Life, God, Life Lessons

Divine Prank Calls

Back in the archaic days of landline phones, we used to get a lot of solicitors at my house. Unlike most people trying to eat their dinner in peace, I found great joy after spotting company’s name on the caller id. “Wallside Windows” it read. “Hello, this is Wallside Windows, how may I help you?” I chirped into the phone. The confused salesman would mutter something about an extension problem and then hang up on me. Reverse prank calling was my favorite.

Going to a Christian college, the word “vocation” was thrown around like candy at a small-town parade. You don’t need a job, you need a calling. A divine purpose. Which is great and definitely makes the job search process just as painful. 4 months out of college, and I’ve started to wonder. Did God just prank call me?

It’s the only logical answer to our little carefully laid plans starting to crumble. The 5 year-plan just became the plan for only 5 days and the dreams might be clearer but the steps to achieving them just disappeared.

But I just can’t believe that. I don’t think God calls us to one place or job just as a joke. I don’t think that we know our final “vocation” or “calling” at 21 or 22. It doesn’t mean that the stints before figuring that out (shout out to my non-peers: do you ever figure that out?) are any less valuable, purposeful, or ordained by God.

The next time we’re tempted to slam down the phone when it feels like “calling” just slid through our fingers again, think again. God has us here (or in your case, there) for a reason which we may or may not figure out and our God does not want to know if your refrigerator is running.

Change, Church Life, Life Lessons, Maturity

Gold Stars & Grey Dots

For every sincere congratulations on my upcoming marriage, there’s at least one criticizing remark about the rashness of marrying young or foolishness of not continuing my education. I don’t think the polar-opposite responses are limited to me, my fiance, or our plans. The temptation to compare and judge runs rampant at this time of year, especially for graduating seniors.

We compare ourselves to those that are getting married, going to grad school, getting a job at XYZ company, teaching overseas, becoming missionaries, moving back home, taking an extra year to graduate, are in 5 weddings, didn’t get invited to any weddings, are getting a job at IDL company making more money than the person at XYZ company, have 3 interviews lined up, are working at a summer camp, winning this award, volunteering with that non-profit, and the person that has no idea what May 17th will hold.

To justify our own decisions, we line up all of these options, place our plan at the top of the mental measuring stick, and then demonize the rest to assure ourselves that we are wise, weare valued, our four years at college did mean something.

I’ve done it. I’ve watched my friends do it to themselves, to others, and to me. As I watch this phenomenon unfold, a children’s book I read when I was 7 or 8 comes to mind.

In Max Lucado’s You Are Special, there is a village of wooden people, each expertly crafted by the Creator. Each wooden person has a box of gold star and grey dot stickers. When someone does something impressive, looks attractive, or says something witty, everyone rushes over and showers them in gold stars. But if you aren’t so good-looking, have a tendency to blunder, or trip over yourself, it’s grey dots for you.

It isn’t until the protagonist, a grey-dot-covered fellow, talks to the Creator and learns that he isn’t a mistake but was carefully crafted by the One that loves him despite earthly successes and failures, is he able to start shedding the stickers. The more he trusts in the love of his Creator, the less stickers will stick to him. This confuses the other wooden people. They rush to cover him with gold stars for not having grey dots, but they fall off. So they try to cover him with grey dots due to his lack of gold stars, but those don’t stick either because his identity rests not in the comparison of relative achievement or lack of failure, but in his identity as a creation of the Creator.

The story is beautifully illustrated in this 8-minute video below:

The stickers only stick if you let them. The stickers only stick if they matter to you.

While the moral of the story is obviously to rest in your identity as a child of God, I particularly love the point it makes about the foolishness of comparing oneself to others. People will love you for your lack of grey dots. They will judge you for your lack of gold stars. Which means if your worth is wrapped up in grey dots and gold stars, you’ll always be better and worse than someone else and you’ll always be miserable trying to change that.

As peers all transitioning from our undergraduate experiences to something, anything, whatever it may be, I think it’s time to throw away our stickers.

Change, Friendship, Happiness, Life Lessons, Pain, Time

Layers

This is my senior year, last semester. A multi-layer image of friendships made and lost or faded or stayed. Fun times and hard times, all dictated by the never-forgiving academic calendar and endless stream of lectures, events, chapels, dances, and the occasional game of bowling. Everything I experience is held to the light of past experiences in the same place and time, just years later.

Books, Change, Life Lessons

Necessary Endings: 5 Ways to Clean Up Your Life

As I eagerly await the beginning of a new semester and school year (t-minus 1.5 hours!), I am thankful for the quiet time to metabolize the experiences of my summer with the intent of building upon those bits of life learning gained throughout this next year.

In June, I read a book called Necessary Endings. The book lays out and expounds on some basic principles:

1) Things end.

“…endings are a part of life. they are woven into the fabric of life itself, both when it goes well and also when it doesn’t.” pg. 6
2) Endings are natural and needed and should be made normalized.

“Just time and activity alone brings more relationships and activities than you have time to service.” pg. 47

3) It’s easy to get stuck BUT pruning leads to thriving.

“But sometimes people get stuck in a type of misery in which they are prone more to inaction than action.” pg. 58

4) A lack of action is a decision.

“Time is working either for your or against you in terms of your needed ending. If you are stalling or waiting, then you are tacitly agreeing to more of what you already have or worse.” pg. 150

5) You attract what you are.

“The clearer and kinder you are in your communication of endings and bad news to people, the better the people you will find yourself surrounded by in life and work.” pg. 209

BONUS: Metabolize experiences and create closure for what you leave behind.

“Keep what is usable to you, and eliminate what is not…The pain, the bitterness, the feelings of failure, the loss and grief, and the resentment all need to be eliminated and left behind. But left behind consciously as opposed to just denied and forgotten.” pg. 217

If my rough summary and out-of-context quotes left you wanting more, I highly suggest you find a copy of the book and read it. It has revolutionized my perspective on senior year, my e-mail inbox, my schedule, and my closet.

Books, Change, Church Life, Friendship, God, Life Lessons, Marriage, Maturity

Loving Better

Since May 15th at 7:00 pm, when I triumphantly handed in my last final of my Junior year, I’ve slept in 8 different beds with 2 more to go before I return to my bright raspberry creamsicle room.

I never expected to stay in (multiple) strangers homes, co-author and self-publish a childrens’ book, go to Boston, or take up kickboxing during this past 3 months span.

Through a series of conversations, packing up and moving out, getting caught in the rain (always), making friends at the Y, learning how to write (again), learning about what makes a family, Skyping Siberia, and waiting tables at barn weddings, I finally picked up on God’s creative ways of teaching me to love better by:

Loving Myself Less

I’ve always had a surplus of confidence, allowing me to walk into almost any situation with the assumption that I will not only learn quickly the necessary skills to thrive, but that I would come up with a better way of doing things. Being an intern for HOPE International, an excellently run organization with competent leadership and a vision way beyond my overly confident self, was incredibly humbling and refreshing. I was valued for my skills but expected to stretch myself and learn from those around me. Not hard to do, when surrounded by some of the most intelligent and faithful servants of God I have ever had the pleasure of working alongside.

Loving Change More

Even though I’m leaving the summer with more to-do lists than I came in with, I’ve learned that plans not only can change on a dime–they will. It’s part of life and being able to embrace the unpredictability of not having the world under my control (who knew?) has released me from the impossible burden of always arranging everything just so.

[This book helped immensely.]

Loving Others Better

It’s only because I am a mere 4 days from seeing my fiance again that I can say that this summer has been a wonderfully growing experience in learning how to one day (soon!) be a godly wife and in the meantime, love and serve to the best of my ability. Of course, a month ago, I would have just whined about time zones and distance. Thank you to all who have showed me examples of Christ-centered marriages and shared their candid advice. More on this to come.

Loving Life Fully

Its a crazy adventure, but it’s worth living.