Banning "the C word"

I have a vivid memory of being in pre-school and struggling every day to put the straw in my CapriSun. I would always go to my teacher and say, "I can't" and hold up the juice pouch for her to open. The first time I did it she let it slide and poked the straw in for me, but the second, third, and every time after, when I'd go up and say, "I can't," she would lovingly say, "Yes you can, you just have to keep trying" or "Yes you can, just ask for some help. Don't just sit there and say you can't."

I eventually mastered the art of CapriSun opening.

I have another memory of being in first grade at Shady Grove Elementary. The assignment was to write a story about how we would spend a day with Frosty the Snowman. Most kids probably just made a list of lame things to do like eat sandwiches and play with blocks, but my little 6 year old creative mind went running wild and I wrote a five page story about all kinds of adventures with multiple characters, plot twists, magical powers and snowball fights. But then came time to edit, and for a 6 year old, editing a five page story and writing a final draft in your best handwriting is a very heavy workload. I brought the stack of red ink-marked pages to my teacher after a feeble attempt at editing and said, "I can't." I wished I had just written a short little paragraph like everyone else. Every day during writing time when we were supposed to be working on editing our stories I would go to my teacher and tell her "I can't," and eventually she said, "You are no longer allowed to say the C word. This story is creative and so YOU*. I'll help you, but stop saying you CAN'T, because you CAN. You're going to finish it"

I eventually finished the story and I think my mom still has it.

The point is, I've spent a lot of my life telling myself and being told and believing I can't do things:

"I can't go to a big university"

"I can't run five miles"

"I can't work with adults with disabilities"

"You can't learn a musical instrument"

"You can't be on the swim team"

"You can't move to College Station"

just to name a few, and all of those things I ended up doing. But sadly, there are also things I thought I couldn't do, and looking back, I totally could have done them, but either I told myself or someone else told me I couldn't and I believed them, so I didn't even try and missed the opportunity to succeed or learn. 

"I can't" is an excuse, and its lame. The truth is, you probably CAN but you're scared to, or don't know how to, or don't want to look ridiculous or too ambitious. Instead of "I can't" how about "I want to"? Replace any "I can't" with "I want to" and just LOOK at how much more possible it looks:

"I can't I want to go to a big university." 

"I can't I want to run five miles."

"I can't I want to work with adults with disabilities."

Just because you can't do something right now doesn't mean you shouldn't try to set goals and learn and work towards it. Maybe sometimes we tell ourselves we CAN'T because we're afraid of what will happen if we DO. Why are we so fearful of our own success? Why not you? Who says you can't be that person who effects change, makes the team, gets accepted to their dream school? I am always inspired by a quote I first heard in 7th grade that has seemed to follow me since:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.

          We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,

talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world."

Marianne Williamson

(Read the entire speech here--DO IT its amazing.)

YOUR PLAYING SMALL DOES NOT SERVE THE WORLD.

*I am so thankful for the people throughout my life who have told me and still tell me to stop believing I can't do things. In the past couple of years, I have began to realize that I have wasted so much time thinking I can't do things. (Side note: I started my blog during a time when I started realizing I CAN do things, which is why it is called Kaki Does Things). I have always loved to write, and I think (I'm actually pretty sure) a lot of that comes from my first grade teacher telling me my snowman story was creative and "so me" and helped me finish it so many years ago. She believed in me and didn't let me quit. I might not have developed a love for writing had it not been for her banning "the C word."

Summary: if it is good and if it is productive or funny or kind or delicious, or helpful, or innovative, you CAN do it and you SHOULD.

Advent is Not a Deadline

I work so well with deadlines. I love knowing how much time I have to get something done and what to expect when the deadline comes. As I'm writing this, I realize that I love deadlines because they give me a sense of control. I may not get to control when the deadline is, but I do get to control what I do between now and when the deadline comes.

For the longest time, Advent to me has been about a deadline--get your shtuff together by Christmas and you're good. Stop sinning by the time Jesus is born and you've got your ticket to Heaven. Advent is a time to prepare yourself for Christmas and if you're not "good enough" by then well, better luck next year. Have a nice Lenten season repenting all of the things you didn't get done during Advent.
The fact that Advent is right smack in the middle of finals week does not really help either:

-Write your final paper by November 27th
-Study for the test on December 8th
-Group presentation on December 9th
-Stop sinning and fully understand and appreciate the mystery of the Incarnation by December 25th


Obviously, this is NOT the way it should go. This is just my tendency to think that God only notices when I do something wrong. In a way, our whole lives should be an Advent. We should always be in a state of preparation for Jesus' coming but all of those dang deadlines get in the way and we forget. We forget that we were made for eternity, not for the group presentation that's 30% of our grade. We lose sight of the fact that Jesus wants a relationship with us, not to watch us from above as we pray we pass our finals. Advent itself is somewhat of a paradox--be present and love in the moment (not a typo...LIVE in the moment but also LOVE in the moment), and realize that eternity is real too. I spent the past couple of  hours calculating my grades, thinking about how to study for my finals, stressing about not having a job for after graduation yet, being jealous of my thousands of Facebook friends who got engaged this weekend (but really, congratulations to all of you), worrying about everything I have to get done this week, and then realized, "oh yeah, and its Advent, so I should probably do something about that before Christmas--crap, I'm already so behind."

Enter the Holy Spirit in the form of a freight train telling me to CHILL OUT and simply not hold on so tightly to all of these things, and even to let go of some of them to make room for what is important. We all know the story--there was no room for the Holy Family at the inn. Let's not let our hearts be the inn that had no room. Let's get rid of some of the stuff in our hearts that doesn't really need to be there, or at least move some of it out of the way and put at the center what truly belongs there.

Maybe Advent is not about a deadline at all, but about making sure there is always in our hearts a place for Love and giving and most importantly the reality of the Incarnation of a God who is with us always. Advent is not a deadline, but a sweet reminder of how we should always be. And lucky for us, that reminder concludes with the celebration of Christmas.

My favorite image of the Holy Family. This picture is not of my statue, but I do have one and I put it at the center of my desk today to be a physical reminder of advent. 

Opening up about college coming to a close

My graduation from Oklahoma State is a month away! I feel like I need to say something about the past three and a half years of my life. My first instinct is to say they were hard and that I’m glad they’re over, but that’s just my habit of keeping my guard up. I spent the majority of my time in college hiding because I didn’t know how to be honest and vulnerable. I didn't really open up to anyone, even my friends and roommates. I'm sorry they didn't get to know me the way I wish they could have. I'm naturally a happy and energetic person, but I really didn't let anyone see anything else. It's not like I struggled with depression or anything--I was happy but I wish I could have been deeper with people. I don’t know when I decided enough was enough, but I’m sure glad I did. Life when you’re shutting people out and being judgmental is hard and lonely. A lot happened since I moved away from Keller and embarked on this strange (and in hindsight, beautiful) journey. My hair grew. I had a few hospital visits. I made and lost friends. I learned how to make amazing enchiladas. I fell in love. I grew up. I opened up. When I first started college, making new friends seemed impossible. “How are these supposed to be the best years of my life? I’m miserable!” was a recurring thought of mine. But now, as I am preparing to walk across the stage and into a new stage of my life, I realize something. They weren’t the best years of my life in that I met my best friends and had so much fun and freedom. I didn’t go on a wild spring break vacation or study abroad. But they were the most important years of my life so far because I learned how to speak up, what I am passionate about, and how to take care of myself. That is what makes them valuable. I spent so many nights crying and having anxiety attacks during my first year (and maybe a little during my second and third years) that those feelings became familiar companions on the journey. I remember one night, in the midst of a panic attack saying to myself “just wait for it to pass—they always do” as if anxiety was a summer thunderstorm that rolled through and then the clouds would part and the puddles would dry. I didn’t feel like I was close enough to anyone to ask for help, so I did everything the hard way—on my own. I even struggled to find God in all of the mess sometimes. I just had to believe he was there, working behind the scenes (and of course he was, and now it’s so obvious. Thanks God). I didn’t realize it at the time but those instances made me so much stronger. I now know that my feelings don’t control me. This is so important.

I didn’t expect to love learning so much. I did fine in high school but it’s not like I was known for studying like, ever. I never knew I could be “the smart one” in any situation. Until I left home, my brother was always “the smart one” and I was “the creative one.” When I got to college, I realized I could be both. But what’s great about my college experience is that unlike high school, being successful was not about just being “smart” and memorizing stuff. That was a small part of it, but being successful was also about being PASSIONATE, taking initiative, and diving into every learning opportunity. I could always tell the difference between the people who memorized stuff and the people who actually cared. We may have all gotten similar grades, but you can’t put a letter or number to the way a person lights up when they talk about their passions. Human Development and Family Science just makes sense to me. I remember one day thinking to myself, “Maybe it’s not that I chose an easy major, maybe I’m just good at it. Maybe there is a possibility that I CAN be a smart girl and a funny girl and a creative girl...” And that was pivotal. It changed the way I approach learning and the way I carry myself. I could go on and on about how much being an HDFS major has transformed my life, but it can be summed up like this: before college, my passion to help others was like rising dough. It had potential, but it was raw and formless. College was like an oven—literally because those Oklahoma Augusts were brutal and metaphorically because it developed my passions into something useful: something that could really be used to feed others. My amazing professors and advisers were like bakers who added seasonings and butter and all the good stuff. They made my education delicious, and I owe them unending gratitude.

To Dr. Jennifer Jones, who taught me that women can be professors, mothers, stylish, brilliant, passionate, caring, kind and advocates. Being in her class and having the privilege to be on her research team not only opened my eyes to how much I love working with and learning about people with disabilities, but also taught me to DO SOMETHING about causes I care about. To not sit back or turn a blind eye to human needs.

To Dr. Ginger Welch, who from day one taught me to be ambitious and DREAM BIG. She’s done it all when it comes to human services, and that’s what I want to do too. I will be a better mother one day because of the things she taught me about child development, as well as a better employee because of what she taught me in my internship courses. I was so lucky to have her for three semesters!

To Dr. Brandt Gardner whose classes about relationships and marriage were so much fun and taught me how to love—I never expected to learn how to love in a college class! He also, without even knowing it, said the most wonderful things about HDFS that kept me from transferring schools sophomore year.

To Dr. Glade Topham, whose class helped me heal from family wounds and taught me how to take care of myself in the midst of helping others.

To Dr. Whitney Bailey, thank you for letting me run out of your class when we were watching a live birth video during my freshman year. You are one of the smartest, most humble, and most compassionate people I have ever met.

{and a piece for Regina George...she fractured her spine and still looks like a rock star}

These people and so many more went above and beyond for my education. I am so thankful that God put them in my life.

God called me away from Stillwater for my last semester, and it has been nothing short of amazing. He’s so mysterious in the fact that everything always makes so much sense when you look back. If I knew what my life would be like now back when I felt alone and overcome with fear and loneliness, everything would have been different. But I would never have the life I have now without those experiences. HE makes all things work together for our GOOD and He lets NOTHING go to waste. I didn’t think I would come out on the other side so happy and so confident. But this is just the beginning, and I am PUMPED for what’s to come.

Kaki's Favorite Things: It's Friday, have a cookie

Happy Friday everyone! Man I've had an awesome and busy week, which gives me a ton to blog about. But I figured I'd talk about cookies (again, wow.) today. But this time they aren't metaphorical cookies, they're literal cookies and they ROCK. I just discovered these cookies on Wednesday, but I decided to hasten the Kaki's Favorite Things stamp of approval process with all deliberate speed because they are awesome (side note, "with all deliberate speed" is one of my favorite expressions. You get an extra cookie if you know what moment in history this is from without looking it up).

I bought Grace's Best Sunflower Seed cookies at my local health food store, which obviously makes me really hip and the cookies super trendy. They're interesting because they have sunflower seeds in them and as far as cookies go, they're pretty healthy, being made from oats, sunflower seeds, butter and brown sugar. But they're full of flavor! And a serving size is FIVE COOKIES (130 calories). That's definitely a number I can live with. Delicious by themselves or with tea/coffee. But beware, they are super addicting. There were free samples of them at the store and I ate like 2 or 3, at which point I caved and bought a bag.

This is my second post in a row about cookies but I don't see anyone complaining. Plus, this is my blog and I do what I want. But tomorrow I'll be talking about another awesome book I've just finished so stay tuned!

Faith and cookies: The most important thing I've learned about being a Christian adult

When I was a senior in high school, a youth minister whom I have always admired gave a talk at a retreat I was attending that has been so meaningful to me as I have navigated my way through college and the first few years of young adulthood. I was in my last semester of high school at the time and the talk was about developing an adult faith life, so he had my attention. My parish in my hometown was my home--I was so involved in everything and it fed me so well during my high school years (both literally and spiritually). But it was all I knew, and I was about to move. He talked about how when you're in high school, there are so many opportunities to go on retreats and be involved in a youth group, and how God provides us with so much consolation during that time. Its a beautiful experience that draws us close to God and shapes us in faith, but faith, he said, is like a chocolate chip cookie.
The sweet moments of consolation we have in prayer, the times when we really feel close to God and encounter Him in an emotional way, those are the chocolate chips. But a chocolate chip cookie is made of more than just chocolate chips. In fact, the bulk of a chocolate chip cookie is actually flour. The flour represents the hustle and bustle of adult life...work, bills, assignments, the things we don't normally think to see God in. But if we're only seeing God in the chocolate chips, we're missing out on the whole cookie and not seeing the Lord in the bulk of life. And honestly, school, work and struggles are the places we need God the most! So the message was to recognize that in adult life, there might be a lot more flour than chocolate chips, but we have to know that God is present in both and that prayer and being faithful are important in those sweet chocolatey moments of consolation and in the not-so-sweet moments. You can't have a chocolate chip cookie without both ingredients.
He also talked about how the chocolate chips flavor the rest of the cookie, and just so, those moments of sweetness with the Lord should "flavor" the rest of our lives. Not only should we look for God in our every day lives, but we should bring him to others as well by showing love at our jobs, in our communities, and to our families.
I hope you have lots of chocolate chips in your life, but I also hope that you look for God in the flour because I promise you He's there.
And if you're craving a cookie after reading this, the best ones are at Whataburger.

Kaki's Favorite Things: My Year with Eleanor

I'll be honest, I'm not a reader. I like the idea of reading, and I can definitely appreciate good literature, but I'm too impatient most of the time to read an entire book or I lose interest or just am simply too busy doing things (haha.) to read. But recently, I read an entire book the whole way through! For fun! And it was great! (!!1!!!) My Year With Eleanor by Noelle Handcock is a memoir about a 29 year old pop-culture journalist who loses her job and soon realizes she doesn't really have a life and is afraid to step out of her comfort zone that seems to have shrunk since before her job started consuming her social life. One day in a coffee shop, she sees a sign with the famous Eleanor Roosevelt quote, "do one thing every day that scares you," and is inspired to take Eleanor literally. She dedicated the next year of her life to facing all of her fears. From sky diving to shark diving to confronting ex-boyfriends, she does things (hey look!) that take her on a journey of self-discovery. She even climbs Mount Kilimanjaro! Throughout her journey, she faces fears that a lot of people face--public speaking, karaoke, making hard decisions, and finds that there is "nothing to fear but fear itself" (another famous Roosevelt said that one).
Its a really good book, ya'll. And, as cheesy as this is, by the end of it, I was doing more things that scared me--I went to the weight room where all the buff guys work out, I wore red lipstick to church, I started being more honest with people. I discovered the same thing as Noelle in the book--most of the things we fear aren't actually that scary. Looking our fears straight in the face makes us stronger people. We gain more self confidence in knowing that we have conquered hard things before, and that brings motivation to keep pushing, keep facing, keep growing.
This book was light-hearted, easy to relate too, SO funny and just so good! My roommate Anna had to read it for class, and I read it after she did. Once I finished it, our other roommate read it! We loved it. Now we have this sign hanging in our kitchen:

This book gets the very first "Kaki's Favorite Things" stamp of approval so do something and check it out!!

Master, to whom shall we go?

I am THE MOST nostalgic person ever. I save old pictures and letters in boxes and look through them on rainy days, remembering fun times with my friends and encouraging words they've given me. I get emotional just looking at my current laptop wallpaper because I love my sweet best friend Cali so much:

Miss you, Cal!

 So anyway, I love nostalgia and memories. There's this app called Timehop that brings up what you posted on social media on this day 1,2,3, or however many years ago, and for people like me, its so much fun. Today on Timehop, one of my favorite Bible verses came up because I had made it my Facebook status 2 years ago when I heard it for the first time:

 

 

When I first heard this verse (John 6:68), I was a freshman at OSU, trying to figure out what college was all about. "How do I be Catholic in college?" was a major question on my mind, along with, "why do I feel so alone without all of my friends?" Being lonely is a rough feeling, and we all experience it at some point--the beginning of this new part of my life was the first time for me, and all I wanted to do was be sad about it. I really missed my best friends from home, and I just wanted to go back to them. I wasn't thinking about loving the Lord, but about the loneliness I was feeling. 

 

To provide some context, John chapter 6 is the Last Supper, more importantly the bread of life discourse. This is when Jesus is telling his disciples that He is the bread of life and by eating His flesh and drinking His blood, we will have eternal life. Many of the disciples found this hard to believe and left, returning to their former way of life (John 6:66). Jesus turns to the twelve and asks if they are going to leave as well, which is when Peter gives the response that so profoundly spoke to my heart two years ago. It made me feel sad for those who had left. They were probably a little sad to be leaving as well...I would be sad if one day I decided to go back to how I was before following Jesus. But I felt as if Jesus was asking me this question as well, which made my heart fill with love and compassion for Him. I realized that there are so many things that I could have done because I felt as if I was alone and being Catholic was "getting harder" because I was getting older. And how many people, when they get to college, stop going to church and stop following Christ because it suddenly takes more responsibility on their part? I knew that Jesus is the Truth and nothing could ever take the place of that. Just like Peter, I realized that there was no beating eternal life, and after everything I had been through with Jesus, there was no way I could leave Him now.

 

When being a Christian gets hard, when I (so foolishly) start to think that I could be having more "fun" doing what I want with no regards to my faith, I think of this verse--where else could I possibly go, what else could I possibly believe in, that is better than what Christ has to offer? Life in Christ will involve suffering, but it also leads to eternal life.

 

Every year around this time, I remember this verse. Just 2 days ago I wrote in on the top of my calendar so I could remember it when school, work, and life start to get busy.

So that's my favorite Bible verse. I hope everyone's school year is off to a great start! Mine sure is! #kakidoesthings