Living to the Fullest: Can a Worn-Out Mum Do it?

Note from Adrian: Today's post comes from a great blogging friend of mine: Kerry Miller-Whalen. Kerry is a somewhat eccentric Australian mum and primary school teacher, living in the Southern Highlands of NSW. Her passions are her kids, writing, pets, organic gardening, and home renovations (you should see her plasterwork!).

You can follow Kerry on her blog and connect with her on Facebook - she always loves a good conversation! 

(Want to write a guest post for Life Before the Bucket?)

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For most of us, I suspect the phrase “living life to the full” conjures up images of active, laughing young people, all healthy and attractive, of course, and possibly participating in some kind of water sport…

Alright, I think the image I have in my mind right now came straight from a Coca-Cola ad.

As appealing as those laughing, perfect images may be, they certainly don’t represent my life. In my case, I’m forty-something (pushing fifty-something). I don’t look good in a bikini. Although I like to be active, I’m not as healthy as I used to be. A few years back I suffered a serious emotional and physical burnout – the result of pushing myself too hard for too long, in too many areas. I am recovering, but still easily fatigued. There is a definite limit to how much “full living” I can pack into each day.

Living my life to the full does not usually involve water sports, extreme experiences, or great “highs.” Not that I never have fun; I am naturally extroverted, so sometimes I do crazy stuff with my kids and with my friends, and sometimes there are parties and fun times. But not all the time. In fact, not even usually. Too much of that stuff and I get wayyy too tired. Usually, things are pretty quiet and mundane.

And I think I’ve finally learned something. Going from one big experience to another, whether it be partying, climbing Everest (not that I’ve ever done such a thing), or the buzz of a challenging work project, can leave you feeling empty and lost between-times. You can run away from those empty spaces, by immersing yourself in more experiences – but that’s escaping; not living.

And it turns out the times when my life feels the “fullest” are not the “big experiences”, at all. It turns out they are the times I am truly present with the people I love. Enjoying a bit of leisure time with my extended family, and just... driving with my kids. Enjoying music, Sharing my hopes and dreams. Genuinely connecting with someone in the blogosphere who’s been asking the same questions as I have. Sharing a cuppa and maybe even a few tears with a friend who knows my heart, as we share each other’s sorrows.

So I find that my life feels “full” in relationships. But there is a BIG difficulty with this.

Connecting honestly with others is not always sweet, loving, pleasant, or fun. “Others,” if we let them close enough, will challenge our conceptions of who we are. They will provoke and unsettle us.

And what follows from this, and is even WORSE; is that it is impossible to connect genuinely with others UNLESS you are willing to honestly connect with yourself.

That is the big challenge.

In my case, being fully present in my OWN life is something which tends to be very difficult. Being fully present as me often means feeling tired, and sometimes depressed. Far too often it means being at my wits’ end with squabbling children. Presently, it involves living a kind of relationship half-life, separated but not yet divorced. My marriage over, but not over – as full closure has not been reached. And there are times when I really do need to “escape”; a movie, a night out with friends, a glass or two of something pleasantly alcoholic.

Escaping in these ways is not in itself a bad thing. We all need respite from real life from time to time. However, it is not possible to live forever in respite. The reality of who we are (perhaps it’s more accurate to say, who we really believe we are – but that’s another discussion) is not something we can escape from.

Living life to the full is not about filling it up with experiences, the way you fill a cup with water. In my case, the cup is cracked, anyway. Our “life” is, moment by moment, who we are in ourselves and in relationship with others. Living it fully involves pain and frailty, as well as joy. It involves honesty about the ugliness and the brokenness. It necessitates moving through grief.

Surprisingly, in honestly facing my own brokenness and that of others, I have discovered not only genuine connection, but an overwhelming sense of life and beauty and joy. Reality is messy. It is often painful. But it is also beautiful. That experience is teaching me not to fear really living my own life “to the full.”

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Questions: Have you ever tried escaping as a way of living? What downsides are there to living this way? How can you be more fully present in your own life (and in the lives of those around you) today?

This guest post was part of a guest post series called "Living to the Fullest." Interested in joining in? I'm still looking for submissions! Just write up a post, or even just an idea, and e-mail it my way!


image credit - /\ltus - Flikr Creative Commons

Remembering the Story

It's Monday. But let's not forget, even today, what we so exuberantly celebrated on Sunday.   

As we drove to the church yesterday, colors were a bit more vibrant - the grass greener, the sky bluer. Everything seemed to be teeming with livelihood as we headed to celebrate the cornerstone of our faith: resurrection.

And how absurd it sounds - worshiping a man who was flogged, hung, and left for dead. They rid him of life, and ashamed, buried him, so that they might forget. So that they might hide the man who had duped them. "The Anointed One?" they thought silently to themselves as they trudged along the road, away from the scene: "What a joke. How did I ever fall for that one?"

Sullen and stricken, those left alive endured the pain of their souls crucified. Not for resurrection - that would be absurd. Instead, they waited, hopelessly. To be let down from their tree. To be released from their stripes. For the pain to subside. For the hurting to heal. For the brokenness to be mended. But by what? Their only hope was dead.

But then, something happened. There weren't any trumpets. No grandstanding angels to announce the incredulous. Simply a stone rolled away and some linens neatly folded. A man, who by all appearances seemed to be a gardener, waiting outside. And as they visited his grave, they faced their biggest fear: that this was the end. That their lives with him were over. And that they, most likely, would be next.

Little did they know, their day would only get worse. They arrive to grieve, to commemorate, to remember. And who among us has never celebrated a life passed, even through our tears? But to arrive to the grave of our beloved, only to find it vandalized and the body removed - life would be kicking us while we're down. And how unfair it is, really. As if God exists. The least he could do is preserve the body, since apparently he's unable to retain the soul.

At least the gardener is kind, though. His voice is soothing - familiar, even. Maybe he whispers a genuine, "I'm sorry," with a sly grin on his face. He comforts their hearts, as he's done all along. He stills their souls, if only for a second.

And then... oh, then. Then, for a glorious moment, they look up. They catch his eye. And his grin - that all too familiar grin. Of course, this is death toying with them. His body is stolen, his soul departed. "We're seeing what we want to see," they think as they look down again to the empty tomb.

Until suddenly, it dawns on them. And the color of the morning comes rushing in as they look up at the man, flabbergasted. Their minds race while their hearts stop. The gardener, who has been there all along, whispers, "Mary," and she knows. She runs to him, arms open wide, weeping with every last bit of breath within her. As she gasps for air through her sobs, words escape her.

And just like old times, in storms of yesteryear, he whispers, "Have peace and be still, my friends," as the tempest of death subsides and the rushing wind of love floods their souls.

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Questions: How did you celebrate Easter this weekend? And if you believe in Jesus' resurrection, how do you plan on continuing to celebrate this week?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

image credit - osmar01, sxc.hu

Win of the Week

Howdy, friends!

It's time to give yourself a pat on the back (go ahead, do it now - I promise no one will see). You made it through another week!

This is an especially great Friday for us, because we're out of school for Good Friday (which is the oddest name ever, but don't get me started on that). So, because we remember Jesus' death today, we get a day off of school! Makes complete sense.

I plan on making the most of this Friday off, but in order to do that, I want to start it off right: by celebrating my Win of the Week! 


When I'm trying to think of my win each week, something usually immediately pops into my head. Not so much this week. Unfortunately, this hasn't been a very memorable week. It hasn't been terribly bad, either. Just nothing to write home about.

But, because I want to celebrate with you guys, I do have a win. The highlight of my week, as cheesy as it may sound, was celebrating Easter a few days early at our school through our chapel service. Easter is the pinnacle of Christian holidays, even if it's celebrated rather confusingly by the rest of the world (a rabbit that lays eggs? that confuses us all).

I have some great memories associated with celebrating Easter, and I also have some rather mundane ones. But, when it comes down to it, the hope that I have in Easter is enough to help spark a flame within me for the rest of the year. It's beautiful to me, though I can't capture it in words like I want to.

So that, my friends, is my Win of the Week.


What about you? What was your Win of the Week?

Imagine With Me

Yesterday, in one of my classes, a person brought up what he imagined that the world would look like if God didn't exist. What he went on to describe was horrifying, but it made me think.

This is a tough thing to imagine one way or the other.

If you're convinced that God exists, you presume that this world exists because he does. We act the way we do because he created us so. His existence seems obvious for a number of reasons, even if others can't see it.

Meanwhile, if you're convinced that God doesn't exist, you presume that this world exists as a result of purely natural causes. We act the way we do because we're fashioned by nature to do so. God's existence is a question answered obviously by the world we live in, even if others can't see it.

So today, I'd like you to imagine with me. Let's imagine together, a world that doesn't exist (at least in our minds).

For those who believe in God, imagine a world without him. What does it look like? Do we exist? How do we operate? What meaning is there in living?

For those who do not believe in God, imagine a world with him. What does it look like? Do we exist? How do we operate? What meaning is there in living?

This is an exercise that requires a lot of thought, but it's worthwhile and I think can move the "conversation" about God along further than any of our proofs or reasonings ever could. Please try to think outside of what your belief system requires you to say in response to a question. Instead, reflect on what you honestly, truly believe would be true, not what you've been told would be true.

So let's hear it! What would this imagined world look like in your mind?

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photo credit: elogo1 - sxc.hu

I Want to Be Like Caesar

When we read books, we often associate with a character and take on their feelings.

It's not very often, though, that I actually want to be someone in a book. Typically, the people I associate with are fighting dragons, spying on other nations, or saving the world. Frankly, I'll let them handle that business - I don't know the first thing about dragons.

There is one guy I want to be like, though.

I want to be like Caesar.

Caesar is powerful. Caesar is mighty. And regardless of what the people want, Caesar rules.

Plus, he gets to wear a toga, which looks mighty comfortable.

Err... wait. Wrong Caesar. Let me try again.

Caesar is one of those everyday staples in life. He's a miniature version of the guy from Rome, and instead of serving up punishment, he serves up heart attacks in the form of pizza.

And again with the toga. I've gotta get myself one of those.

Ugh. Not him. No, no, no.

Let's try this one more time.

Caesar is a guy that is often overlooked by many who hear about him. He plays an instrumental role in the process he's a part of, but he stands out from the rest of the pack.

Plus, he has some pretty intense hair, which I could go for.

The Caesar I want to be like is Caesar Flickerman, from The Hunger Games.

Cue the nerdfest.

In the books, there are two things about Caesar that Katniss, the main character, notes.

First of all, Caesar has been hosting the Hunger Games pre-game interviews for several decades. Reason seems to dictate that he would be tired of the gig after a while, especially as he grows older. However, Katniss notes that over the years, Caesar has remained unchanged, both physically and mentally.

Now, granted, part of the reason that Caesar hasn't changed is because of plastic surgery and the Capitol's affinity for eccentric appearances. This isn't something I necessarily care about - my beard should make that clear.

However, there's something more meaningful hidden beneath the surface with Caesar's demeanor through the years. He has witnessed person after person dying at the hands of the very city he serves, and yet, he still remains upbeat and jovial.

Again, part of this is due to the nature of the Capitol as consumer-driven, viewing the Hunger Games as mere entertainment, rather than actual tragedy (sound familiar?). However, I think the lesson to be learned from Caesar reflects what we heard from Angela in yesterday's post. Regardless of his circumstance, Caesar remains unchanged, enjoying every moment he is given.

The second reason I want to be like Caesar Flickerman is this: Caesar makes everyone around him seem better than they are.

Before Katniss goes to do her interview, Haymitch (her mentor) tries to coach her up, to make her more likable. It turns out that he can't figure out how to help her and remarks that she has "as much charm as a dead slug."

Naturally, after hearing this, you expect Katniss to bomb her interview with Caesar and to be booed off stage. Not so fast, though.

Instead of letting her crash and burn as a dead slug, Caesar allows Katniss to flourish as "the girl on fire." Though everything rides on her interview going well, Katniss manages to have the personality of a cardboard box. But, even when he isn't given much to work with, Caesar works to make others look like stars. And he does exactly that for Katniss and Peeta as they prepare to enter the Hunger Games.

There's something to be said for Caesar's way of life. Sure, he has his pitfalls - he is a member of the Capitol, after all. But all in all, Caesar is a guy who makes everyone around him shine a little brighter.

And then I wonder: am I anything like him? Do I refract the limelight from myself to shine it on others? Do I strive to push others to greatness, regardless of how I feel about them?

Honestly, I doubt that I do this often. I wish I could say that I always want people to succeed. The truth is, if I'm not excelling, I don't want others to either. And that's a part of me that I wish would die hard.

So today, I want to be more like Caesar Flickerman. I want to cast the spotlight on others, bringing out the good in them and disregarding what I "think" is bad. I want them to catch fire (in a good way, of course), and burn brightly for all to see, instead of wishing for them to fall flat on their faces. I want to help others, not hold them back. I want to rejoice with those who rejoice, instead of secretly spiting them for their success.

We should all work a little harder today to be more like Caesar.

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Questions: Do you struggle to celebrate with others when they excel beyond you? Are there particular people in your life that you can't see the good in? What are some of their positive traits that you can celebrate today? How can you make others look a little better today?

Did you enjoy this post? If so, I'd appreciate you subscribing to Life Before the Bucket and sharing it with your friends. Thanks a million for reading!

photo credits - TudouMao (sxc.hu) & Dano (Flikr Creative Commons)