An Introverted Writer Goes YouTubing

I post one blogpost and I feel like I’m yelling from a platform–with a bullhorn–at a microphone.

What? You can’t hear me? Oh. That’s fine. I tried. Bye.

I want to say that. After short efforts to put content into the cyberworld, I want to hole up back in my cocoon and be content with collecting and digesting ideas and information, occasionally creating something new, whispering it to the worldwide web, and calling it good.

But it’s not good.

I’ve learned too much about the projects I’ve tackled to keep the valuable information to myself, for just our little family, or for the teams and families I coach.

I am a writer, so I will write, but there is this other part of me that simply hasn’t been given space enough to grow as it should and I need to pay attention to the gnawing feeling I have to attend to it.

I need to teach.

I HAVE to try to share what I’ve learned in whatever media I can. So, I will try harder.

I will write more. I will step into those places I ventured once and build back up the teaching/presenting/consulting muscles I’ve let atrophy.

I heard a baseball coach interviewed this week and he spoke about the mantra they have for their team: “Work while you’re waiting.”

I am waiting to get feedback on my proposal, on queries, on the next steps for The Team Adult Playbook I need to finish, and I have chosen to work while I wait.

So, I’m working on defining and fine-tuning my Choosing to Grow brand. I wear a lot of hats for the various projects I pursue and I want to share the observations, research, and writing in all the ways I can.

I have been Choosing to Grow:Through Marriage for fifteen years now. I just completed the research for Choosing to Grow: For the Sport of It and The Team Adult Playbook is blossoming because of it. I am chronicling the ways I am Choosing to Grow: GREENER and writing ties it all together.

I wear different hats, and I am now standing firmly beneath my Choosing to Grow umbrella choosing to grow in the ways I offer up the fruits of my labor.

If you are a YouTuber, I’d love to have you as a subscriber on my Choosing to Grow channel.

If you are on Instagram, I Instablog on my account regularly @meaganfrank.

I have an author Facebook Page as well as pages devoted entirely to Team Adult and Choosing to Grow: Through Marriage. Oh yeah, and I’m on Twitter too @meaganfrank_ctg.

Thank you for reading the words I write, listening to the stories I tell, and sharing anything you think will be valuable to people you love.

Copyright Choosing to Grow 2019                                     www.meaganfrank.com    

Rain Running:Tracking Life Moments

IMG_4816I ran in the rain yesterday. On purpose.

I hobbled home in a downpour. Because I had to.

For two glorious miles, I sucked humid air into my lungs, celebrated streams of warm rainwater on my face, wrung out my weighted t-shirt, and listened to the birds sing in the patter. I smiled the entire time. I rejoiced in how far I’ve come that a recreational run in the rain evokes complete gratitude. I relished the fact that fullness of life is possible in such simple, pleasant moments.

Two steps before turning around to head home, a shooting pain in my left calf, the leg that I’ve so carefully guarded because it still has an intact Achilles tendon, literally stopped me mid-stride. Staring back down the path from where I had come, I was in a new moment. A moment of pain, a moment of consideration about my new reality, but unbelievably still a moment of sustained gratitude. I’ll get to that later, because I did have to head back down the joyful path that had taken me there, but with painfully, slow progression.

Half a lifetime ago, none of what I experienced yesterday was possible.

When I was a senior in college, and preparing to graduate, I turned down an invitation to walk in the rain. What I believed about such activities was that it was useless. What was productive about a walk in the rain? It has taken me decades to learn what my college roommate apparently already knew: striving, achieving, and controlling is not living. Living is being present in a moment…no matter what that moment might be.

Maturity and children are responsible for chipping away at the version of myself that was too driven to live well.

I now gauge my progression through life on experiences that involve my kids too.

I told my sixteen-year-old yesterday, as I set my phone and headphones down on the desk, that I was leaving them behind because I didn’t want them to get too wet.

“I’m headed to the stop sign at the end of the path, so at least you know where I was running if I get abducted,” I told him.

He smiled, amused, and then went back to watching whichever show he had pulled up on his phone.

Part of the joy I experienced the first half of my run, before pain interrupted my thoughts, was the recollection of another rain run I had nine years ago.

Nine years ago, my children were six, four and one. We were planning another move, from Menomonie to Woodbury this time, and my husband was already in Colorado for his six-week spring stint. I had had one of those days and all I needed was a good, hard workout. By the time I got the kids to bed, it was lightly raining and, when I looked outside, I decided I was in need of a cleansing run.

The decision to run around the circle road just outside our townhouse was a selfish one. I needed independence from the responsibilities of children. I needed a moment to myself. So, I ran. I ran around and around the circle, glancing at the front door of the townhouse each time. I was drenched and filled with endorphins by the time it was done. I bounded in the door and what stopped me in my tracks that day was the immediate visual of my worried six-year-old on the phone with his arm around his scared younger sister.

“Oh, she’s right here,” he said and extended the phone to me.

“Hello?” I breathlessly answered.

“Yes, ma’am, this is the 9-1-1 operator. Your son called us because he couldn’t find you.”

“Oh, I’ve just been outside,” I said, “I’m right here.” Panic replaced my runner’s high.

“Well, we’ve already dispatched a unit to your home, he will be there in a minute or two.”

I managed to adequately explain to the officer my son’s seeming abandonment was a misunderstanding and the disheveled nature of a house littered in moving boxes was totally normal. The situation must have looked as desperate as I felt in that moment. I was a young mother still striving to be productive and willing to traipse my family around the country to achieve something I have since discovered is too elusive to actually attain.

So, yesterday, as I stood dripping at the end of my path, I reached into my pocket for a phone to call my newly-licensed son. I could still walk, but it was a struggle with a fully-cramping calf, and I thought it would be easier if he could drive to pick me up. It took me a moment to realize, I didn’t have my phone.

My slow and methodical walk back in the pounding rain gave me time to enjoy how far I’ve come. I may be outrunning the abilities my body once enjoyed, and my kids may no longer see a brief absence as an emergency, (actually no one even really noticed how long I was gone yesterday) but I am finally in a place where I can gratefully experience the moments I’m given. No matter whether the moment is filled with joy and smiling or pain and grimacing, life’s moments are meant to be relished.

If I could go back to the college-version of myself I would tell her to go walk in the rain. And to my future self I want to tell her: run if you can, walk when you must, and when time takes from you the independence to do either on your own, find the people who will stand or sit with you in a rainstorm.

 

(for those of you wondering…it’s just a calf cramp…I should be fine:))

                     

Copyright Choosing to Grow 2016                                     www.meaganfrank.com

Leaving Home to Go Home

house front door

Probably the last thing I should be doing right now is writing a blogpost, but I’m really supposed to still be asleep. Therefore, all is justified, right?

We leave today for our annual adventure. I am of course thrilled that what splinters my heart in separation from my husband will soon be healed with our reunion, but I have to admit it is quite hard for me to leave this year.

I have fallen in love with our home.

The rooms have only begun to transform into lovely spaces of comfort and I have so much more work I would like to be doing in them.

I will miss the phrases I’ve put up on the walls and the art that records the year of growth for Little Sprout’s artistic expression. I’ll miss my paint projects, photographs, and experiments with candles. I’ll miss my office and the battles I’ve been waging with the bird-feed-stealing raccoon. I’ll miss the blanket of leaves outside each window and the surprising colors of flowers and bushes that push through this time of year. I’ll miss the dappled sunlight that subtly bounces off leaves just outside my morning window and the thrumming of big rainstorms at night.

It’s these elements of home that are impossible to bring with me.

I will miss people as well, but they are allowed to accompany me in the form of texts, emails, Facetime, Facebook updates, etc. And I guess I could actually call them too…

The space of a home is the space of a home… and there is no way to digitize that.

Maybe I’m more reflective this year because the space of our home is about to transform so completely in the next two days. The five of us are preparing to snuggle in tightly in our bus accommodations for the two months of summer. I want to remain mindful and grateful for what will surely be a memorable opportunity.

A good friend of mine (who happens to be RV living with her family of five right now too) told me the two things I need to pack for the lifestyle are patience and a sense of humor. Duly noted.

I also want to pack away a little bit of home too, so I took pictures of my yard this morning so that I can have a digital bouquet when I need it. Appropriately, a deer ran across our cul de sac while I was taking photos.

IMG_1484[1]

flowers from home

peony

deer in cul de sac IMG_1483[1]

home flowers

Undoubtedly there will be plenty of beauty and natural experiences as we camp this summer. I too, of course, intend to make our space as homey and comfortable as possible. I plan to catalog (blog) as we go.

I expect I’ll find home there too. It is in fact where my heart has been since April anyway.

Copyright 2015  Meagan Frank          Choosing to Grow

http://www.meaganfrank.com                                             

Whose Plans are These Anyway?

path on the lakeI laugh at my last two entries. Not the light-hearted giggling “hee, hee, hee” of a little girl, but rather the evil “bwa, ha, ha, ha” of a deranged woman.

Dear Self from Last Year’s Blogposts,

I’ve got news for you sweetheart…stop trying to lay your own life plans!

Yeah, right. You’ll just move into the cabin on a lake and build your dream home. Ha! No problem. Sure, you’ll have a hard time closing doors and packing up boxes, but you are really pretty clueless. You won’t see those things you’ve boxed for practically a year. And, honey, you have NO IDEA what your life journey will look like the next ten months. Just relax, would ya’?  There is plenty to see and hear and learn and NONE OF IT IS IN YOUR CONTROL!!

Let go. Sit still. Oh yeah, and if you refuse…there will be outside forces to take care of that for you.

Sincerely,

The Crazy-eyed Future Version of Yourself (jaded and sarcastic)

Back then…two whole posts ago…I thought things were simple. We would move to a new town, start a new hockey adventure and build a home…hilarious! Before I became hardened to reality, I figured one of the hardest things we would do would be to agree on the color of the kitchen backsplash.

God had other plans for us.

Progression of My Plans            God’s Plans
Work for my husband during the summer and   see him lots Work for my husband, stress with him about a new business…see him 5 minutes a day
Move to the lake and start building a new   house Move to the lake and realize the lake has many building restrictions
Cheer for Big Sprout as he starts playing   soccer again

 

Enjoy Middle Sprout as she blossoms into a young lady

 

Watch Little Sprout leave behind any anxieties she had in a bigger school

Co-coach with hubby for the middle school soccer team just so all the   kids could play

 

Be challenged by the nastiness of pre-teen hormones and attitude

 

Realize that innate anxieties move with you

 

Enjoy the temporary nostalgia of no   dishwasher and one bathroom for 5 of us Extend time in close living quarters through one of the worst winters in   30 years
Enjoy the warmth and coziness of our   cabin on the lake Force close huddling because the furnace goes out
Establish independence in the new town Force dependence when my car dies on the side of the highway in -15   weather
Ok fine…find a house in town and keep the   cabin a cabin You’ll find one, but it won’t be ready for you for a while
Well then should we plan to just make the   cabin as big as we can? You could, but it won’t be all you need
Well I’ll just make the most of it then:   snowshoe, cross-country ski, lakeside yoga Wait a second…you need to rest now. Sit still. You need to heal your   ruptured Achille’s tendon anyway

If I’ve determined anything in the last year it is that God wants creativity and imagination. He knows that it takes energy to create and imagine in chaos and with all we’ve faced this year we have been tapped dry. We could never have had enough energy to do what we’ve been asked to do. So yes, we relied on Him more. And He has come through.

Again and again, we’ve had what we needed.  We are suited for this town and this town is suited for us. They accept our crazy. They may not understand it, but they do accept it. We know now what it is to live in difficult circumstances and we have an appreciation for the many blessings in our lives. We are surrounded by good people who are willing to help us…again, and again, and again.

I am no longer in the planning or predicting mentality. I am resigned to live in the moment.

In this moment, I am sitting on the couch with my driving leg propped on a pillow as the staples work to mend the surgically repaired tendon. The heatless sun is shining on the snow-covered lake and I have time to blog. Time I have not had for months and months. (you poor people!)

I make no predictions about my next post, or my next house. What I know is I have a place to sleep tonight and probably tomorrow. I have food to prepare in the fridge and children to parent this evening. What would be the point of planning out any further than that?

 

                     

Copyright Choosing to Grow 2014                                     www.meaganfrank.com

Where’d You Grow Wednesday? 1/11

Location for my first business meeting...ever

A friend of mine, who works for a great direct-sales company, invited me to pretend to be her.  Thank God, for both of our sakes, she didn’t ask me to sell anything. Instead, she wanted me to present a 45-second commercial on her behalf. After presenting for her, I was then encouraged to introduce myself at her weekly business networking meeting.

“Sweet! Thanks for the offer,” I said, as I hung up the phone.

Wait, what?  What did I just agree to do? Business networking is as far from my comfort zone as climbing into a chair for Botox treatments. At least one look of shock is temporary.

So, I prepped.  I got myself dressed in work clothes at 6:30 in the morning. I have not been professionally dressed so early since I was teaching high school English in 2000. (Stay-at-home moms and college soccer coaches have a slightly different attire)

So off I went. For some reason I thought this was a business women’s networking meeting. My friend sells awesome skincare products and part of me was sure I would be in the gentle comfort of a group of women.

Then the men came.  Lots of them. I realized I was heading into a REAL business meeting with more men than women.

Deep calming breath. Confident. Eye-contact. Shake hands with strength. All the things I try to do when I am in “networking” mode. I can do this. I can totally fake it.

No problem. They welcomed me warmly and seemed genuinely interested in what I do…why I was there.  I have to hand it to them, they were generally very good salespeople.

We got food and coffee, sat at big round tables and the microphone started to make its rounds. It was passed from person to person and the 45-second commercials started to air.  A second wave of panic hit me when I realized that, as a writer, I have a distinct disadvantage in a room full of business lingo. I sell one book product, I don’t really offer services (quite yet) and I don’t have a catchy slogan. They all had catchy slogans! Crap, I thought…I need to come up with something quick.

“Meagan Frank, frankly writing.”

“Meagan Frank with choosing to grow. It’s a way of life.”

“Meagan Frank choosing to write, choosing to grow and choosing to be okay making no money doing it.”

The last one seemed a bit wordy.

So, I ad-libbed the commercial my friend had written, forgot to ask for the referrals she had requested and barely introduced myself as a business entity, sans catchy slogan.

I could have sat and let the microphone pass me by the second time, but I decided to correct my mistakes. I thanked them for letting me come, got in the plug for referrals for my friend and passed the baton.

Before leaving, I passed out some business cards (I suppose I’ve never called them writing cards), made some interesting connections and was requested to come back next week as another sub. They either really enjoyed the entertainment of a flopping fish out of water, or there is value in connecting with a writer.

Last week’s Where’d You Grow, I threatened to go into an ice house. With 50-degree weather, that would have been a risky venture. This adventure felt similarly risky, but breaking this ice was not traumatic, cold or devastating. It was really fun.

Where’d you grow this week?

Mamawolfe, a fellow blogger, submitted her Wednesday growing link.  I love that she spontaneously went on a trip! No planning, plenty of growing.

I hope even more people join in this conversation… this conversion toward growth.  Please comment about one place you went this past week…physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually that was new for you.  How did you grow? Do you have a picture?  If so, email it to:  choosingtogrow@meaganfrank.com.  If something happens to you this upcoming week, and you write a blog post about it, send the link to that email or find me on Facebook.

Happy Growing!

To learn more about Meagan Frank, you can visit her at her website:  www.meaganfrank.com