Tag: Life

Thought for the day: Are we there yet?

Deana3 Comments

I’m a redhead again. My year of hair repentance is over. (Some of you may remember the great blonde fiasco of 2011). There is much rejoicing in my house as I got the green light to cut my hair and go back to my truest self. I cannot tell you how much I missed my hair. Learning patience is not an easy journey.

Raised an only child by a single mother who worked two jobs when she needed in order to make ends meet, I had to learn how to wait for things.

Today I live in a world where I no longer have to worry about what I’m going to eat, if I’m going to eat, and where I get to live. Lulled by a false sense of security, I’ve forgotten how to wait.

I am safe.

I am in many ways, the exception rather than the rule.

I am impatient and a perfectionist.

In this season of my life, I catch myself wanting it now instead of later and get impatient with the journey.

I still wait for the day when I can finally say “I’ve arrived.” only I read in Fully Alive that arriving is death. Once I arrive it means I’m out of things to learn and mountains to climb. Arriving means I get to relax. I’m ADD, if I relax I’ll get bored. When I get bored, I forget who I am and make stupid choices.

It’s the valleys of life that teach me compassion and it’s the mountains I conquer that teach me bravery. Without those two crucial things in my life, my spirit withers. I lose touch with who I am created to be and I lose touch with others.

I want to race through the valley, and be on the mountain top already. I forget that the journey is the life. Whether I’m in a valley, climbing a hill on my bike, or standing on top of the mountain, I’m breathing. I’m alive.

I used to dream of the day when I would no longer be neurotic until I realized it’s that place of living in the raw, stuck between the shitty first draft (As Anne Lamott would call it) and the clean up that gives breadth, depth and meaning to all of my relationships and experiences. It’s here in the middle where the oxygen is most abundant and I am at my most truest self. It is here where I am free.

Living in the middle means I get to be bad at something until I become good at it.

Living in the middle means I get to feel pain, know hunger, and suffering on occasion and learn that this too shall pass.

Living in the middle lets my eyes scan the horizon for the next goal, and the next opportunity to push myself beyond my perceived limitations and experience the joy of real accomplishment.

Jeff and I took a new path while riding bikes yesterday. This one has more hills than flat lands and I wasn’t prepared. I wound up walking the first hill and dug down into myself for the rest. I decided that I could stop and catch my breath if needed but I was not coming off my bike again no matter what. I knew that hill was waiting for me on the return trip. I knew I was going to have to dig in if I wanted to climb it.

I watched my pace and kept close to his. I shifted gears, pushed through the pain and refused to stop. I made it to where he was waiting and then…

…………………………………………………………………I threw up.

I am living in the middle of the consequences of throwing a temper tantrum and gaining 50 pounds hoping to assure that I’d never get hit on again. I’m living in the middle of learning boundaries, facing fears and finding myself. Sometimes living in the middle means doing the right thing even if it means I have to throw up afterwards. (Fellow scardy cats will understand that one)

Living in the middle is messy. It means I don’t get to have all the answers. It means I get to make mistakes and be imperfect. It means I get to try again until I get it right.

I don’t know what middle you are living in right now. Maybe it’s the middle of a storm, the middle age of life, the middle of a climb or the middle of a descent and you keep waiting for the day when you can finally say “I’ve arrived.”

Don’t settle for arriving. Don’t waste time wishing you were there, when you could be living in the here and in the now.

Strive to live.

Dig down.

Get messy.

Make mistakes.

Be neurotic.

Throw up if you have to.

Choose joy.

Believe in yourself.

Friday Funny: The Next Time You are Asked to Play For Free

Deana4 Comments

Going around Face Book.

The Melody of Life

Deana2 Comments

“The banjo is such a happy instrument–you can’t play a sad song on the banjo – it always comes out so cheerful.” –Steve Martin

I can have a horrible week.

A heart breaking, nothing goes right, things break, family crisis, gut pulling kind of week.

A run away from home, lock myself in a cabin by the cove and play banjo for two days straight and question my sanity kind of week.

Then I walk into my banjo lesson and my instructor breaks down the songs, gets me laughing my butt off, reveals deeps secrets of the musical universe (Don’t force it. Don’t rush, you have all the time you need. Pay attention to the important things. Don’t forget to have fun.) and my soul is happy again because we’re playing a banjo and I can hear the melody.

A lot of us who do comedy for a living think we need a stage to help people feel better. That isn’t always the case. The day-to-day interactions we have with others can have a profound impact. He helped me remember that even with all its twangs, missed notes, thuds and buzzes, the melody of life can still be heard and that is a glorious thing.

Perfectionism is self hatred in disguise.

Deana10 Comments

I would rather be naked than let you see me learn the banjo. That says a lot. I don’t do naked well. (Think Bob the tomato). Learning something new while people watch is apparently worse.

I call it being an introvert.

My husband calls it being a perfectionist.

Either way, I don’t like people seeing me or hearing me try something new until I master it.

The problem with that?

Life isn’t meant to be lived in a vacuum.

Truth is, I’ll let my husband see me naked, but I won’t let him sit out on the porch while I practice my banjo. For some reason I feel more vulnerable playing the banjo than I do in the nude.

Refusing to let my husband (he’s a professional musician on weekends) hear me play robs him of the joy of music.

I knew my anxiety level had reached an all time high when not only did I not want my husband to hear me play the banjo, I couldn’t play for my teacher either.

When we first started out with lessons — in May, I’d get so nervous that I made my instructor nervous.

That’s rough.

My husband finally offered me his great wisdom.

“This isn’t the Opry, it’s our back porch. Now lighten up and have fun already.”

I’ve been having a lot of fun since he said that. When I get frustrated (like I am tonight) I remind myself that I started playing the banjo on May 25 2012 and I missed three lessons in June because of traveling. So really, I’ve only been playing for four weeks. In those four weeks, I have learned chords, how to tune a banjo, how to read tabs, four basic rolls and now I’m learning slides.

My husband does not think less of me because I haven’t mastered this yet.

My instructor (who has been playing guitar for 40 and banjo for 3 years) does not think less of me because I’m not as good as he is.

Fact: I sing in the chorus of the second longest running presentation of Handel’s Messiah in the US. Have since 2000. I cannot read a lick of music. I’ve memorized the entire piece. That takes talent.

Learning how to create music brings me joy and will help me become a better songwriter.

Hating myself because I have the unrealistic expectation of mastering something over night (like slides) is ridiculous.

This isn’t the Opry.

It’s my back porch.

I hereby give myself permission to not be great while I learn with the knowledge that every time I try, I will get better.

What new thing are you trying to learn right now?

Are you willing to be kind to yourself while you learn?

Friday Funny: Kritters

Deana3 Comments

My two dogs found a baby possum this morning.

I forgot they like to play dead and tried to pick it up.

If you need me, I’m the looney screaming from the roof of my back porch.

I’m leaving for Nashville TN in the morning for the Annual Christian Comedy Conference. I won’t be blogging while I’m there, but you can keep up with our adventures by following me on twitter @deanaohara — Have a great weekend you guys.

 

All Rights Reserved: Deana O’Hara, CRC Publishing 2014

Friday Funny: Southern Women Make Great Evangelists

Deana4 Comments

I had a chance to meet one of my favorite Christian singers a few years back,  but I was too busy evangelizing one of the volunteers and I missed the meet and greet.

You see, I had taken my family to see this man perform at a local church and when I walked in with my boys a gentlemen stepped in front of me and shoved a flier in my hands. I read it when I sat down and discovered it was an invitation to this singer’s senior citizens cruise later that fall. I didn’t make anything of it, figuring he had to give them to everyone. I was after all only 43 at the time.

Then my husband arrived. He tried to take a flier out of this man’s hand and do you know he said?

“I’m sorry sir, these fliers are for senior citizens only and you don’t look old enough.”

Have you ever seen a Southern woman throw a wall-eyed hissy with a red rubber tail? Something like that will turn even the deepest of atheists in to a man of prayer. I can guarantee you if that man wasn’t saved before he gave me the flier, he is now.

Be Blessed Y’all.

Isaiah 43:1 But now, this is what the LORD says— he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.” 

Pondering Peace

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Luke 2:19 “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.”

Have you ever been so blown away by God that all you could do was ponder? If I were to sum up my feelings and my heart over the past week, that would be it. I’m treasuring all that I have seen and pondering those things in my heart right now.

Now there is a word you don’t hear much, PONDER. What does ponder mean?

According to the Merriam/Webster Dictionary

transitive verb
1
: to weigh in the mind : appraise <pondered their chances of success>
2
: to think about : reflect on <pondered the events of the day>
intransitive verb
: to think or consider especially quietly, soberly, and deeply
 I made a decision recently that has a few people in an uproar. Only a handful of those closest to my heart and inner circle know about this decision. I know that I am following God and that he is not a God of division and I am trusting that he will find a way.
Please forgive me for choosing to keep it close to my heart for the time being. I’ve actually been writing on it at great lengths in private and yet it’s not coming together. I do know why now. It’s not coming together because I’ve been trying to testify to myself rather than of God. I’m defending and not proclaiming. I’m stuck in worry when I should be resting in hope.
When the fullness of time comes and only once He gives me the words, I will testify to Him.
Luke 2113 And so you will bear testimony to me. 14 But make up your mind not to worry beforehand how you will defend yourselves. 15 For I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to resist or contradict. 16 You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers and sisters, relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death. 17 Everyone will hate you because of me. 18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 19 Stand firm, and you will win life.

Just Me and My Banjo

Deana2 Comments

My first banjo lesson was last Friday. I learned how to hold it while sitting down which involved a brief lesson on the difference between boys and girls. I learned how to use the picks they gave me, and how to read a tabulature, a pick roll and three new chords (G, C, and D7). I’ve been playing until my fingers want to fall off. Seriously it hurts to type. I’m happy to report though that C no longer buzzes. yeah me!

Houston, we have music.

God is showing off again.

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I promised myself I wouldn’t cry when my son graduated last night. And I didn’t. Then the commencement speech started. So much for promises. For the first time in 23 years, the administrator of the school gave the commencement speech. I’m sure the speech had points worth remembering. I’m glad we recorded it because I only remember one part. Halfway through his speech the administrator made direct eye contact with me when he said, “Beloved Daughter of the Living King, Live like you are forgiven.” – yep, that turned me into a waterfall  of big old alligator tears.

That can only mean one thing.

God’s up to something.

Have Mercy.

I’ll be back, I promise

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For the first time in 21 years my boys will not be home for Mother’s Day.  My oldest will be celebrating a wedding out of state with his closest friends and my youngest is in Belize working at a mission for the week with his class.

Life is a cycle. My boys are now men. They bring joy and laughter beyond measure to my life. As hard as it was sometimes to be a stay at home mom – yes I missed my career, I would do it again in a heart beat. I love being their mom.

I know I’m breaking some rather large blogger rules by posting videos all week. Graduation is just a week away and we are up to our eyeballs in preparation. I hope you understand. For all the Mom’s out there, Happy Mother’s Day.