This started as a letter to my mom

I've been thinking more about how we can contribute more as adults to this household, and I know it means a lot to you to have a beautiful garden and home for our family. I want to not feel like we are mooching off of you—I want to contribute more. I want to work, in a serious job-like way, at whatever tasks you need to be taken care of.

I want to be doing the heavy lifting of household chores while you enjoy time with your grandbaby. Tavey and I would be happy to do more of the grocery shopping and regular cleaning. We may not have the money, but we have the time and honestly enjoy the break in our day. There's only so much highly productive work we can get done in a day, so I think it would be healthy to have more balance and work on other things (like helping you with whatever tasks need to get done).

Maybe you love going to Costco, so I'm not trying to take that away from you. But maybe if there's ever a day you don't feel like it, just ask one of us to go for you. It might take us a bit longer, but that's just a bit longer for you to spend with your grandbaby, or go swimming, or make a Shutterfly book, or do whatever you want! Do what you love, and we want to help with the rest.

Between three adults with loose schedules, we can all be focused on whatever we need and want to do. Of course, I'm saying all this as I struggle to keep things here even a fraction of as nice as you do. I don't know how you keep everything so clean all the time. I am so amazed and appreciative of how hard you work to keep this place so beautiful.

I cannot fathom how creative and talented you must be with time management to be able to organize this family and household and international trips and cleaning and Opa's schedule AND you're helping countless other women with their struggles. You shine the light of God like a lighthouse at night. You do everything in your power to spread love to those around you.

But I know you struggle to ask for help.

I know because I do too.

It is often easier to just do a task than to explain it. And I'm learning the hard way that I’m often not satisfied with others’ work quality (or lack thereof). But if I'm NOT the best person for the job, then I need to ask the best person for help. Like when you ask Tavey to help you move pots. And he is genuinely happy to help. We all are. Helping makes us happy. So if we can, why not?

What I've learned from you, is that by helping people, I am filled with joy. By helping others, and building on each other's strengths, I feel and send love. And then... we work together. To make sure we all have enough to eat. That our home is clean and beautiful. That we all feel well rested and taken care of.

Doing the dishes is much easier when we do them together at the end of the day. Don't waste your daylight doing dishes unless you really want to. Whatever my biggest priority is, I should focus on that. And if there is a more fun way to do something... let's do it that way! Because why not? Why should I do something miserably when I could be bringing people joy with even my breakfast foods?! Why be miserable about what I need to do to survive? It is my choice and my responsibility to pursue joy in all that I need to do. Because otherwise, well, otherwise life is just empty. What is the purpose behind each moment if not to use it to make the world better?

What makes the world better?

Bringing joy, bringing peace, bringing love.

If I do not feel joyful in a moment, why is that?

Am I afraid of something?

Like the broken lock on my window right now.
I felt fear. I feel fear.

Maybe someone is in this house with me
I thought I was home alone with the baby.

The thought freaks me out.
I feel fear.

But bravery can conquer fear.
Braverbot can step in and save the day.
What if someone broke in? Well I know I am likely stronger and faster than him or her.
What if they have a gun? I know it is unlikely that they would have the training or skill to hit me before I could disarm them.

I trained kickboxing with Thai master, "The Dragon Leg." and studied jiu-jitsu with a group of women my size (and much bigger). I practiced escaping their holds and literally carrying them across rooms and learned new ways to use my body shape, agility, and size to my advantage. Perhaps I've always enjoyed playing things like gnome Barbarians in DnD because I kinda identify with that.

I am cute and petite, but I could beat the shit out of people if necessary. Necessary being "if you're trying to hurt my family."

Oh and also I studied kung fu in Beijing with a personal-trainer-turned-local community security guard. This grown man spent a year teaching me for 2 or 3 hours every week how to fight him.
My first ever TRUE sparring match was with a man my age, over six feet tall, who was also training multiple days a week. He bopped me pretty good in the face. And you know what? I was okay. And I saw the hesitation in his eyes. He was afraid to hit me. And I was a bit afraid to hit him. As we should be. We don't want to hurt each other.
We were just sparring. But we were learning.

Perhaps I’ll start sparring with my husband.
We can even get the appropriate padding so we can be safe about it.
Who needs a fighting gym?? We'll get stronger while we do it!

There's a reason kids fight with their friends and with parents. The only way to know our limits is to test them.
Morning baby nap time can turn into morning sparring time!
Sparring can be built into our schedule. It would be fun and great exercise. We're stuck at home during nap time anyways, so might as well whenever we can.

Sparring doesn't have to mean fighting each other. It can be any kind of physical exercise outdoors. But it should be outdoors if possible. Like recess but for adults.

And again it doesn't have to be every day all the time. We have indoor recess sometimes, you know?
But we do need to spend dedicated time whenever possible to refocus on our goals and strengths and weaknesses. And then we need to ask for help with our weaknesses.

My mind feels like a spiral sometimes. I stray from a thought as I write, but then circle back and realize the thoughts were linked the whole time, but I hadn't yet given myself the space or trust to follow the rabbit down the hole.

I am still learning to trust myself. I am still learning that I don't need permission to pursue my best intentions. I am trying to help and trying to love and trying to ask for help as I go. I want to do what is best for my family. And if I feel like I am not doing enough, it is my responsibility to find a way to do more. If I think I'm wasting a lot of time on my phone, then I need to make a commitment to finding some balance. If I need to do things on my phone in order to relentlessly pursue my goals, then sure. But if I'm wasting time, then I need to stop. I need to prioritize what needs to get done.

But that is SO much easier said than done.

It is so hard to prioritize without leaving something in the washing machine for too long and it smells like mildew and then you need to put it out in the sun and hope the weird smell goes away but first you're steam cleaning it to remove the weird wrinkles and then ultimately your friends are coming over so you need to put the gosh darn rug on the ground anyways and hope that nobody notices the wrinkles and funky smell and you hope that tomorrow maybe the sun will be out again so you can try sunning the rug again and you keep hoping and hoping that by the time your parents get home from their month-long international trip, nobody will even notice a thing and it would be like your secret sins have been washed clean. But maybe... but maybe... leaving the rug in the washing machine on accident wasn't a sin? And it is okay to just do my best to fix it.

It was a mistake.

We all make mistakes. And we all continue to make mistakes.
But if we give up, then the mistakes are permanent.
But if we keep trying to make things better for those around us... we are likely to well... make things better.

And isn't that all we want?
To make the world a little bit better?
For our lives to have not been wasted?
Let's stop wasting our lives and start focusing on how we can all thrive together.
How we can all grow in love and beauty together.

Though I guess I cannot assume what anyone else wants. But I think that’s what I want. To make the world better and for my life to not have been wasted.

Is not a writer one who can connect their thoughts seamlessly infinitely? The transitions might be unexpected sometimes.
A chapter may end so abruptly. A shot.

The next one starts with a flower. A detailed description of a sun-kissed rose with a dew drop dripping from its delicately fragrance petals.

But there's a story.
There's a story to be told. Our lives are our story.

I can't write anything but a thinly veiled autobiography. So I might as well just write the truth as I see it. Who's to say I'm wrong?