Category: The Healing Journey

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It Ain’t a Break

There is a lot of talk among homeschoolers this time of year about what kind of “break” to take. As much as I agree with the concept of taking a break from formal homeschooling, it’s not a “break.”

It’s a shift of priorities. In the wake of losing the mother of my two young sons, I shifted all my focus to our emotional, psychological, and spiritual wellbeing. There’s a lot of work in that. I’ve come to believe that learning the skills to cope with tragedy is more important than any book-based lesson.

An emotionally balanced, psycholgically self-aware, and spiritually grounded individual is unstoppable in whatever learning they desire. That individual can never be “behind.”

That work isn’t just for those in the throes of trauma, it is for everyone. Our society is sick with worry over where each of us exists in the rat race. The only real race is the one against ourselves. Finding deeper peace in each day will bring us ever greater riches until our last day.

The work is in yourself, always.

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Revisiting a Tradition

Every December, Mary would spend a full day making cookies. She saved takeout containers througout the year and filled them with her goodies to share with friends, family, and neighbors.

I’ve never baked and I didn’t intend on picking up this tradition. My sons loved helping their mom, but I didn’t know where to begin (I was/am lead dishwasher).

When I tossed the idea out to friends that my sons enjoyed baking, but I was inept, there was no hesitation in someone suggesting a cookie baking party. It came together in five days with two of my late wife’s recipes on the menu.

The music was wild and the grownups kept things rolling as the kids rotated in and out, eating and helping in turns.

We’ve cultivated this new group of friends out of a primal drive for community. My boys have videogame, wrestling, and troublemaking partners and I have found a group of unschoolers who value the strength we find in each other.

It was a thrill to revisit Mary’s tradition in a totally new way. I know she’s smiling on us today.

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Process and Progress

I didn’t want a tree this year. Lots of reasons, but I’ve never owned this tradition. Raised as a Jehovah’s Witness, it never entered my sense of nostalgia.
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I mentioned opting out of a tree to my son, Isaac, and the disappointment on his face told me we needed a tree. Now I dreaded it as it felt out of my control.
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Then my friend Julianne’s daughter mentioned that she wanted to surprise her mom with a tree when she got back from a weekend away.
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Julianne is as hardworking as moms come. She’s a widow who has been a support and inspiration to me for almost two years. I never turn down an opportunity to help her out as she spends each and every day helping other people live their best lives.
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That same day I picked up the McElroy children to find our trees. I love love love these kids. They’re the McElzerbs when we’re all together. Our youngest boys were born just four  days apart.
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Julianne’s daughter, Kay, is all business and the trees were on top of my car in no time. She’s as independent as they come, but let me help get the tree inside and upright.
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By the time I got myself home, I didn’t have the energy to get our tree off the roof of the car. It was down early the next day, but stood outside for a week as I prepared a space for it inside. Repeatedly that week, I thought how absurd it was that I was bringing this tree inside to die.
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But, as I rearranged, cleaned, and generally improved our living space, I remembered how much my late wife enjoyed seasonal changes. Christmas  decorating was her favorite. Her sweet joy at all of it fueled me out of indifference. Isaac carries an inordinate amount of her DNA and spirit.
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Now here we are. More than week after purchase, a dozen bulbs replaced, and ready for ornaments.
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Certain things move more slowly as a single dad. It’s hard for me to accept that and forgive myself for being worn out before a job is done. The funny part is that sometimes Mary and I would get this done a few days before Christmas. In my self criticism I almost forgot that I’m doing a fine job. I almost ignored the progress we’ve made. This is my process.
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Respect yourself. Respect your process. Merry Christmas.

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On Energy and Faith

Disclosure: Some of the links below are affiliate links, meaning, at no additional cost to you, I will earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase.

When I read C.S. Lewis’s A Grief Observed, I felt dark sadness for how deeply the loss of his wife undermined his foundations. It’s written much like a journal and I could walk that early path of grief alongside him.

It struck me how my faith journey was strengthened by the loss of my wife. How my unique path towards salvation seemed specifically meant for this moment in time.

Grief is strange. Over and over I return to that. Lewis was one of the great thinkers and witnesses to the Christian faith in the 20th century, producing influential works throughout a long life. I’m a thoughtful person who took a winding road to accepting Christ into my heart in my thirties. I wasn’t a head-on-fire convert when I lost Mary, but I was brand new in the church.

With a long standing drinking problem and an eruption of traumas ancient and new, why didn’t I descend into Hell? Or at least put Heaven on trial?

I suppose it’s the parts of me for which I can’t take credit. The parts of my being that seem immutable to my overthinking mind and ego-driven emotions. These are the gifts that God made for me: an indomitable optimism and a body filled with raw energy.

This is our third Christmas without Mary. These Decembers have called me to dip deep into those wells of optimism and energy. This is the hardest and loneliest one so far.

Damn. I’m usually able to write myself into an upturn. Seems silly to brag on my energy and optimism, then end on a down note. That’s where faith comes to help. I believe that I’m on the right path and understand it’s not always going to be sunny. I forgive myself for these low moments and I’m going to stop trying to write myself out of this one.

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What Are We Doing?

The Lockdowns don’t save lives. How many stay-at-home people are testing positive? Hoe many people trapped in care facilities have died? This is the season of respiratory infection. It won’t end until sometime in Spring. What will our society look like after a year of this?

From Tom Woods:

I just read a Florida reporter talking about a rise in hospitalizations in our state.

Is there some isolated issue in Florida right now?

Or are hospitalizations rising everywhere, regardless of policy?

No answer, of course.

Remember, too:

In Florida there are no restrictions on private gatherings, no restrictions on bars and restaurants, no restrictions on churches, no restrictions on gyms, and no curfews or stay-at-home orders.

Florida also has the fifth-oldest population in the country (as opposed to California, at 44th).

Yet in a graph of maybe a dozen states’ current hospitalizations per million, I see Florida doing better than such blue, “follow-the-science,” ruin-people’s-lives states as New York, California, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, New Mexico, and New Jersey.

Are any of those places going to be criticized?

You already know the answer.

We are living through the craziest moment in our lifetimes. Almost nobody is being rational, and almost nobody can even be trusted to report data properly.

I will never want to live “off the grid,” because I’d hate it, but I definitely want to live in a way that doesn’t rely on crazy people.

Hence my various businesses, all of which are insulated against the crazies.

I sat down and recorded over-the-shoulder videos of how you can do this. It’s called Net Profits Academy.

Coupon code woods lowers the price from $47 to a mere $19.95, but it expires at midnight.

Go learn:

http://www.tomwoods.com/woodstheteacher

Tom Woods

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A Darker Delaware

I don’t know how businesses will survive the latest restrictions, especially when they are given one business day to comply and threatened with a zero tolerance policy.

I don’t know if more people will rebel, or if more people will break under the rules. I feel close to breaking.

I don’t think serious consideration is given to those who are in difficult positions: single parents fighting to provide a healthy and positive environment for their children, grandparents and great-grandparents who may be isolated for their last holiday season, the people who have lost jobs and businesses, those struggling with addiction and depression, and every single human who has been shamed and insulted in this terrible Lockdown.

I go to sleep tonight with a weight on my chest. I will pray for peace and guidance. I will ask for wisdom and clarity as I have done repeatedly over the last nine months. I am ever hopeful, but that hope is thinning.

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Hooked on Healthy

I have five soccer games scheduled in five days. Before a hike and today’s game I took a cold shower for more than five minutes. It was the first time I stepped into a cold shower after eight months of hot showers followed by a couple minutes of cold.

Since I began Wim Hof Method breathing and cold therapy showers in April, I have had signifigant gains in physical recovery, cardiovascular endurance, and general wellbeing.

[Wim Hof with Jordan and Mikhaila Peterson on Castbox: https://castbox.fm/vb/333970245]

I’m super excited for the next few days. I had been preparing for less soccer in my life this winter and I’m blessed to find the opposite to be true.

I made it to yoga earlier this week and will sneak another one in soon. I’m glad that I’ve chosen to focus on my physical life. I truly didn’t know I had this much in me.

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Dark December

A lot of Facebook memories popped up today. 2018 an 2019 were tough, but they finished in quietly spectacular ways.

I’m in a low place. It feels like there is more loss than gain this month. More isolation and loneliness. Too many deeply personal emotions to share with clear words.

This is the place when the light is dim and the wood is dark. I’ve been through enough of these dark nights to know how bright the sun is on the other side. I don’t wait for it, I push into the ever darkening path, for that is the way to the light.

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The Costs

This week I read a post from a Lockdown-enforcing friend. She said that she would be avoiding those who are not strictly complying after “this” is over. Firstly, what is the metric for that? When do we stop trading germs, bacteria, and viruses? When do we stop sharing bad habits? When do we stop poisoning minds with ideas we deem “bad?” When do we stop being human and fallen and full of snakes and mistakes?

Aside from the philosophical absurdity of pretending that humans (and eveything else in existence) aren’t dangerous, I’m deeply troubled. Her children have been friends with mine for years. Her and I have stood as vocal homeschooling advocates and I consider her an ally in promoting educational freedom. We disagree on fundamental political and religious fronts, but we’ve found our common goals to outweigh our differences.

She was at Mary’s memorial and made her way to me through a daunting crowd to deliver a message of support that I will never forget.

The home education community is small and diverse. We have serious divides on serious issues, but we’ve always been able to discuss them while our children play and learn together.

I pray that this is emotional manipulation to acquire a desired behavior. I pray it is an empty threat. My children have no control over my choices, why should they be further isolated from friends after this difficult year?

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Grateful for How God Made Me

They change the rules arbitrarily and give you a few days to comply.

Regular people are just trying to get by. They’re trying not to screw up their kids. They’re trying to keep their businesses afloat. They’re trying to stay in shape. They’re trying to fix their relationships. They’re trying to learn a new skill to help create a better world. They’re trying to make their way in a world full of suffering.

The Doomers lack compassion for how radically society has been forced to change in a few months. They don’t see the substance abuse, suicides, and crippling loneliness that people are experiencing. Doomers have taken people’s joys away from them and told them they are selfish and ignorant to complain about it.

They are willing to “beat the virus” at any cost. Whether that is possible is a real scientific debate. What’s not debatable is how far someone will go if he thinks he is saving the world. Fascism enters the human heart when you think you are the charismatic leader here to save the People. You don’t see individuals anymore, you only see the Compliant and the Noncompliant. You discover it’s okay to yell at, shame, and lie to the Noncompliant in order to meet your righteous goal.

That’s why these governors, mayors, and bureaucrats sound like dictators, because in their hearts they are. Then the compliant armies march, taken in by propaganda delivered by experts and validated through corporate media.

They are tearing apart society with their dictates and telling those of us trying to be responsible for our own lives and the lives of our families that we are the threat.

The only things the Noncompliant are a threat to are the centers of power and control.

I’ve got my priorities of responsibility in order: God, myself, my children, family, friends, and community. I seek truth and liberty in each of those responsibilities, not power.

I’m thankful for the way God made me. My soul craves freedom, not just for itself, but for all it can touch.