I don't know about you but I am SO ready for summer! Beaches, books, cookouts, fireworks, hikes, long hours spent reading by the pool...I can't wait! I've put together a fun little list of my summer favorites and thought I'd share them here with you!

#1 Light Summer Reading

Can I be honest for a minute? My brain is tired. I've spent the last four years reading such serious, heavy books that I'm pretty sure the wiring in my brain is starting to short-circuit. This summer I plan on reading nothing but LIGHT, FUN, FLUFFY FLUFFERSONS. Here are my picks (you can click on book covers for direct Amazon link):

 

 

#2 Leave-in Hair Conditioner

My hair stylist recommended Marrakesh Argan & Hemp Oil Therapy and now I use it after EVERY hair wash. I've used a bazillion hair products (my hair is slightly wavy, fine and prone to breakage). This leave-in conditioner is BY FAR the best. It's light, non-greasy and smells AMAZING. As a bonus, it acts as a smoother and detangler. YAY, less split ends! PERFECT for summer!

 

 

#3 Breezy, fresh fragrance

I wear this perfume year-round but I especially appreciate it during the hot, sweaty summer months. Light, delicate with the barest hint of floral, all you need is one spray on your wrists and this Chanel Chance perfume will last the whole day. There are several varieties of Chance perfumes. I remember my favorite is the PINK ONE. :) Or, in fancier terms, "Eau Tendre." 

#4 Glowing daily moisturizer

I rarely use self-tanners but when I saw how beautifully this Jergens lotion worked on a friend, I had to try it. I use it every morning as a daily moisturizer for my legs and arms (avoid ankles, knee caps, elbows). The bronze color develops gradually—I saw results in about 7 days—and it looks just gorgeous. It even smells delicious!

#5 Mini lip balm

I know Vaseline isn't anything new or fancy but this MINI size is super convenient. I bought it on impulse but found that I use it more than my other, more expensive lip balms. It makes my lips SO SOFT. My kids love it, too—especially because it's not "smelly" like other chapsticks. It's small size is perfect for stashing in a purse or makeup bag. I'll be carrying at least two of these with me all summer.

*some affiliate links used*

I grew up in a Christian fundamentalist cult. You can read more about that in my book, Girl at The End of the World. Suffice to say, I understand the fundamentalist/Quiverfull system. I know the theology. I know what happens in these home-churched, no-kissing-before-wedding-day families. I know because my childhood cult was very, very similar.

But today, I'm not interested in rehashing my own past. Today, I want to address WHY these things keep happening.

I am far more interested in the systems and structures that enable and perpetuate abuse because until those systems change, we'll just keep putting out fires.

The greatest mistake we can make right now is believing that this latest exposure of sexual assault is an isolated incident. I am here to tell you that the Christian church—as a whole—has a major, MAJOR problem with the physical and sexual abuse of children. It's time we examined not only WHAT is happening but WHY this is happening.

To get a clearer understanding of the problem, let's look at how prominent Christians are responding to the information that Josh Duggar sexually assaulted multiple young girls.

Within hours of the Duggar statement, prominent Christian leaders began trumpeting a "Josh Duggar Redemption Story." I mean, we barely had time to process the information before we were bombarded with Christians demanding we all Stop Judging! Forgive! Haven't You Ever Sinned? Look! He repented! 

Mike Huckabee took to Facebook to express his righteous indignation over the "insensitive bloodthirst" of those who exposed "long ago sins." Apparently, the real horror here was NOT the sexual assault itself but the fact that it had been made public.

Popular Christian blogger, Matt Walsh, published a piece on The Blaze opining that the problem was not sexual assault but....hypocritical, opportunist liberals.  He even went so far as to say if his son confessed to sexual assault, he wasn't sure whether he'd report him to the authorities. Um. WHAT?

The Christian Post published an article called "Finding Redemption in The Josh Duggar Story" wherein author Michael Brown suggested that "Josh can be an ambassador on behalf of the abused" and that his "future can be bright in the Lord." Um. Pretty much the very LAST thing survivors of sexual abuse need is for their perpetrator to advocate on their behalf. 

Billy Graham's grandson and founder of the website "Liberate," published an article by two pastors who claimed that ALL of us are the Duggars because "all of us harbor our demons." So, essentially, sexual assault is just like any other sin. Come on, guys! FORGIVE! EXTEND GRACE. 

These are just a few examples. I'm sure there are dozens and dozens more.

Here's what troubles me: these Christians demonstrate a profound (and dangerous!) confusion about the differences between forgiveness vs. reconciliation and forgiveness vs. accepting the reality of consequences. And THAT confusion is symptomatic of an entire system that enables abuse.

SYMPTOM #1: EQUATING FORGIVENESS WITH RECONCILIATION

The authors of the bestselling book "BOUNDARIES" explain the difference between forgiveness and reconciliation: "Do not think that because you have forgiven means you have to reconcile. You can offer reconciliation, but it must be contingent upon the other person owning [their] behavior and bringing forth trustworthy fruits…Forgiveness is very hard. It means letting go of something that someone ‘owes’ you…Warning: forgiveness and opening up to more abuse are not the same thing. Forgiveness has to do with the past. Reconciliation and boundaries have to do with the future." (p. 256,257,258, 268, 269).

Especially in spiritually abusive environments, people are told that forgiveness is the same thing as reconciliation. We are told we must accept the abuser’s apology and allow him/her back into our lives. Victims are often encouraged to smile and welcome the abuser back because once an abuser has "repented," it's a sin to "hold bitterness" in our hearts. But this isn’t true. It’s actually harmful for us to reconcile with someone who hasn’t demonstrated changed behavior because it’s a violation of our God-given rights and boundaries. 

Forgiveness is something I can do on my own; i.e., release someone from the debt they owe me, "charge off" their account, so to speak. But forgiveness DOES NOT MEAN I am required to reconcile with that person. And furthermore, it does NOT mean that I am required to release them from the legal consequences of their actions.

SYMPTOM #2: DEALING WITH CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR "IN HOUSE" AND NOT REPORTING TO CIVIL AUTHORITIES

As demonstrated by Huckabee and Walsh's posts, the greater sin is not the crime itself but the exposure of the crime. This is a classic tactic of spiritually abusive systems. I can't tell you HOW MANY times I've heard stories of abuse that were simply brought to the attention of the "church authority" but never reported to civil authorities. The theological justification for this is that since sin is essentially a "spiritual matter," it needs to be dealt with in a spiritual context; i.e., the church. But this idea is wrong and it enables abuse.

Christ's forgiveness does NOT mean immunity from earthly consequences. As Christians, we believe Jesus died to save us from the eternal consequences of our sin. But let's be clear: we are still responsible for our earthly actions and whatever consequences those may incur. Indeed, a true Christian ethic respects and acknowledges the validity of civil authority. We do not get to circumnavigate the laws of our country just because we believe Jesus forgives our sins.

SYMPTOM #3: WE ARE ALL VILE, EVIL HUMAN BEINGS

Fundamentalist Christians (and many other Protestants, too) ascribe to the we-are-inherently-wicked theology. This is why pastors (like the ones above) can assert that we are ALL THE DUGGARS because, hey! we're all evil! Essentially, every sin carries the same weight. Thinking hateful thoughts is the same as murdering someone. Gluttony is just as bad as sexually abusing a child.

But here's the problem: when EVERYTHING and EVERYONE is equally evil, then NOTHING is actually evil.

In other words, the unintended consequence of we-are-all-evil is that it literally makes a mean thought as bad as actual murder. There are no gradations of sin in fundamentalism. And therefore, since we wouldn't take a glutton to court for overeating, then we shouldn't prosecute a sexual molester for abusing children because it's ALL THE SAME.

Can you see how dangerous this theology is? Can you see how this is a system that perpetuates abuse?

SYMPTOM #4: FOCUSING ON THE ABUSER'S "REDEMPTION STORY" 

This is the most insidious symptom of abusive systems. And it was neatly embodied in the writing of Michael Brown (above) where he claims that Josh Duggar can still have a bright future and become an ambassador for the abused. YEAH. Let's talk about that.

First of all, focusing on the abuser's "redemption story" piles abuse on abuse because it inherently de-centers the victims story and the victim's needs. What sex abuse victims want above all else is for their abusers to be held accountable for their crimes and prevented from ever hurting anyone else. Sex abuse victims DO NOT want perpetrators advocating on their behalf (talk about re-traumatizing! how is this not obvious???). Sex abuse victims ARE NOT REQUIRED to rally around the abuser's "redemption story." Sexual assault is not just a "teenage mistake" that everyone will laugh about later on. 

Putting on a pair of mismatched socks? That's a mistake. Forgetting to change the oil in your car? That's a mistake. Sexually assaulting girls while they are sleeping is a CHOICE. And it's a CRIME. 

Over and over again I've witnessed Christians dismissing, minimizing and denying the severity of sexual assault. Even among my own real-life acquaintances I've heard ridiculous things like: "Hey, it's a big family, that stuff is bound to happen." Or, "Didn't we ALL do stuff like that when we were kids?"

We break the cycle by focusing on accountability for the abuser and providing unequivocal support and advocacy for the victim.

On a personal note, the past few days have been very triggering and difficult for me. It's absolutely crushing to see how many Christians do not take abuse seriously. I haven't felt this discouraged about the state of Christianity since I left my childhood cult. I have spent years (YEARS!) writing about this stuff—including a painfully personal book (the writing of which exacted a steep, emotional toll on my life) and honestly, it's super depressing to see how LITTLE (nothing?) has changed. Furthermore, it's frustrating and sickening to see major media outlets pounce on the Duggar situation with ratings-starved glee. As Micah Murray noted, these media conglomerates have NO IDEA what it's like for sexual, physical and spiritual abuse to be your normal: "What the gawkers and headline-makers can’t comprehend is that for every scandal splashed across their glossy tabloids, there are a thousand broken lives that will never make the news....there will never be headlines for broken marriages and broken hearts, for eating disorders and suicidal depression. For innocent faith destroyed beyond repair. You won’t read in the news about years and years of therapy, about brainwashing and codependency and deprogramming."

Like Micah, I am SO SICK of writing about this shit. My archives are full of 8 years of this writing. I am exhausted. And I am DONE. And I am SO ANGRY that big name Christians have NOT stood up to unequivocally denounce this evil.

On the other hand, I am thankful that this stuff is finally hitting a bigger platform. I am thankful that more people see what's going on.

I am thankful for my little band of encouragers who have read my blog for all these years. I am thankful that yes, maybe things are changing a tiny bit. I am thankful for other writers who have spoken out for years, as well. 

This past week I've been called all kinds of names by Christians who do NOT want to look at what is going on. You know what? I laughed. Yeah, I did. I laughed because if defending children means I'm "bitter," then so be it. If speaking up against the systems that enable abuse means I "deny the Gospel," then I'll wear that label proudly.

I'm not afraid of these systems of religious power. I know how weak they actually are—I've seen them fall.

And now I'm going to go drink a second cup of coffee and eat a donut. Carry on, beloveds. We are loved, lovable and loving and we WILL NOT STOP until all the children are free and happy and safe.

Love, EE (bitter, Gospel-denying activist)

I love the hush of Holy Saturday. It reminds me that new life doesn't happen immediately.

First, we must wait.

We allow time for things to not be ok—in fact, things have gone terribly, terribly wrong. All is not as it should be. We can't rush the solution because the Solution itself is lying in the grave.

The discipline of waiting, I think, is to resist despair and engage hope. 

Hope is not like the loud evil that happened the night before. Hope is like the quiet dawn of a new day.

Holy Saturday is when we lean into quiet.

We quietly hope that the end is not the end. We call to remembrance the prophet Isaiah's words, "He will swallow up death forever. And the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces..."

Holy Saturday is the sacred pause between death and life.

We redeem this time by holding space, by remaining open to the possibility that this is not the end.

Death, we hope, is not the end of the story. Death, we hope, will not have the final word. Love, we believe, is stronger than death.

And so, we wait.

These days, there are many scoffers of Christianity masquerading as "honest critics." Ye shall know them by their lack of constructive solutions. As someone who has been outspoken about abusive church systems, I see the increasing need for self-correction among those of us who call out injustice.

Here's why: deconstructionism has its place. But if it is never followed by practical innovation and solution, then it is no better than empty ridicule.

Let me begin by admitting my own advocacy has been quite imperfect. Many, many times I have crossed a line and had to apologize for it. We are human. We make mistakes. I still believe it's better to say something poorly than to say nothing at all. 

But here's the difference: missteps and mistakes are different than an intentional strategy of aggression.

I am writing this post today because I am grieved by the increasingly ungracious posture of some fellow Christian advocates. To read some of these blogs and FB groups, you'd think Christianity was a total rot of sexual molesters, abusers and embezzlers. It's a 24 hr. news cycle of death, destruction and despair—all delivered in snarky, sarcastic, confrontational tones.

I am guilty of this myself. Time and again I've resorted to sarcastic language and mockery when confronting abusive systems. But recently, something has changed for me.

I've begun asking myself: does sarcasm and confrontational questioning effect true change? Does fault-finding build bridges? And most of all: does this kind of advocacy prevent future abuse? I fear the answer is no.

From what I can tell, aggressive advocacy creates nothing more than an angry echo chamber. The tragic irony is that having left closed religious systems, we have simply recreated a different closed system: one that is defined by all that we oppose.

My friends, this is not the way of Jesus. This is the way of the scoffer.

I know the word "scoffer" is old-fashioned, but I still think it's a good word. A scoffer is someone who always has some negative critique to make—usually in a ridiculing or sarcastic manner—and, furthermore, a scoffer actively recruits others to join their opposition. It's easy to identify scoffers: they NEVER offer solutions. 

An honest critic, however, is able to identify the problem and suggest a solution.

Let me give an example. When I was writing my first book I often galloped off in the wrong direction. And not just trotted in the wrong direction. I mean, full-on, full-out galloping into a tangent, going way off-topic and entirely abandoning the story at hand.

My editors often needed to gently rein me in. But they didn't just use the reins, they helped me find my way back. 

Here's what they didn't do: my editors didn't take my bad writing personally. They didn't take it public. They didn't start tweeting negative things about me. They didn't write sarcastic Facebook updates about my long-winded tangents. Why not? Because we were in a partnership together. We had the same goal: a good finished book.

Likewise, we fellow Christians are in partnership together. We have the same goals. We love the same Jesus. If we must pull on the reins, we must also provide helpful solutions.

We deconstructors are excellent critical thinkers. If we applied our energies towards finding solutions with equal fervor, imagine the progress we could make!

I know I have been part of this problem—especially as a blogger. The frantic pace of Internet "time" lends itself to speaking before thinking.

The thing is, coming up with solutions takes time. It takes creative energy. Honestly, it's easier for me to point out problems than offer solutions. But without solutions, we make no progress and worse, we fail to protect future victims.

So, in the spirit of offering solutions, I'd like to propose the following ideas for how we advocates might conduct ourselves:

1. Try private entreaty first

The New Testament is pretty clear that if we have a problem with a fellow Christian, we are to approach them privately. It is only after repeated refusals to heed our concerns that we make the matter public. In the age of the Internet, it's easy to go public first. But going public often makes matters worse because public confrontation encourages shame, not reconciliation. There are, of course, certain situations where personal contact is not possible—for example, if we are refuting the public teachings of a public figure we do not know personally. Or if confronting the person places us or others in harm's way. However, I still think the principle remains true: the Christian ethic instructs us to privately entreat rather than publicly confront. At the very least, we ought to try. 

2. Refrain from sarcasm, mockery and Internet shaming

In order to effect true change, we must perform our work non-violently—this includes refraining from verbal violence. Shaming others may result in temporary behavior modification. But only love, patience and gentleness can effect lasting change. If our manner is ungracious, harsh and demeaning, those who have offended us will become defensive, shut down or withdraw from the conversation. The sad truth is that a victim of abuse can also become an abuser. We ought to defend the abused without resorting to abusive tactics.While our anger and distress is understandable, it does not justify our behaving in harmful and destructive ways. The ends do not justify the means. It matters how we advocate. It matters how we question and how we deconstruct and how we criticize. Otherwise, we simply become what we hate.

3. Use gracious speech

Some advocates would say we don't need to use polite, civil or gracious words because that's "tone-policing."

I've heard it argued that "tone-policing" is a silencing measure, that it re-traumatizes the victim. I've even heard some advocates say that harsh language should be encouraged because when Jesus was outraged by abuses in the temple, he overturned tables and called people names.

First of all, I think it's important we remember that we are not Jesus. Just because Jesus walked on water doesn't mean I should try that the next time I go sailing. And just because Jesus overturned tables and called people "whitewashed tombs" doesn't give me a free pass to rant about fellow Christians. 

Furthermore, nowhere in Scripture do I find Jesus telling the oppressed to rise up and violently attack their oppressors. Rather, I see Jesus telling us to turn the other cheek. In the Old Testament, we read that a soft answer turns away wrath. What I'm trying to say is that being abused doesn't give us the right to abuse others—at least, for Christians.

As advocates, I believe we ought to model gracious, kind speech. There's a thin line between "righteous anger" and plain old anger. Wisdom encourages gracious speech in all interactions. It helps me remember that the "anger of man does not accomplish the righteousness of God." (St. James 1:20)

4. Action not reaction 

I've learned that my triggers aren't always indicative of reality.

I have to quell my reflexive instinct to react to everything that triggers me. As a trauma survivor, there are lots of things about Christian church culture that trigger me! It helps me to remember that my being triggered does not always indicate the presence of danger. Not every pastor is a cult leader. Not every non-denominatal church is abusive. In fact, the opposite is more often true. Most pastors are loving shepherds. Most churches are safe places. Most harm is done unintentionally and is not personal.

When it's clear I do need to take action, wait until I'm calm. It's usually not beneficial for me to make big decisions while I'm hungry, angry, lonely or tired.

5. Give the benefit of the doubt

It helps me to remember that I may not have all the facts. Even when I think I know everything there is to know, it's important to remember I'm still human. It find it helpful to refrain from attributing malicious motives to others' actions when, for all I know, they might not even know that what they're doing is hurtful. If nothing else, proceeding with an assumption of innocence is better for my own sanity and serenity.

6. Check my motives, check-in with a trusted friend

Sometimes we advocates can mistake our personal opinions and feelings as the Ultimate Truth For Everyone.

Our intention is good: we just want to help! But sometimes we can miss the opportunity for authentic connection by brandishing our Big Feelings like a weapon. If I'm feeling fired up about something, it's helpful for me to honestly check my motives: are my personal likes or dislikes hindering me from seeing this situation clearly? Do I need to be right? Is it necessary for me to say something? Is there a solution I can suggest instead of a criticism?

If I'm having trouble seeing things clearly, I seek the wisdom of a trusted friend. An objective perspective is immensely helpful.

7. Be kind

And last of all, when I make a mistake, I practice these principles toward myself: admitting I made a mistake, giving myself the benefit of the doubt and always, always using a kind tone of voice with myself.

I've learned that the harshest critics are usually even harsher towards themselves. We could all use a little more kindness and gentleness, don't you think?

In the end, being mean never changes things. It only makes things worse. Being kind, however, has the power to change everything.

I went back to bootcamp a month ago—not because I particularly like exercise but because I always like the results.

I gained 35 pounds last year. Dear God. It was like a switch flipped in my brain and suddenly I was voracious for yeasty rolls, scones, biscuits, croissants, chocolate chip cookies. Baked goods are my kryptonite. 

The first item of self-care was to stop weighing myself. It had become a torture session. A terrible way to start my day. It felt like quitting a bad habit. I had to replace stepping on the scale with some other activity. Unfortunately, that activity usually involved eating. Heh.

But I went back to bootcamp and although my "Christmas Baby" (as I affectionately call my tummy) isn't really shrinking yet, I am experiencing an immediate positive benefit: increased energy and zero depressive mood swings. Hard exercise blasts away the cobwebs of my mind. There is really nothing like a hot, sweaty, difficult workout to handily eliminate the blues. I don't know why I forget this, but I do. And that's ok.

I'm embracing the idea that we have seasons in life. I had an Exercise Season. And then I had a Baked Goods Season. Up next: Vegan Season? Who knows? Stranger things have happened.

Last week I picked up my first book to find a quote and found myself flipping through the pages thinking: I wrote this? This is such crap. It was disconcerting. Just a few months ago I felt like "Girl at The End of the World" was my best writing ever and now, here I was feeling embarrassed that I couldn't go back and write it prettier, more perfectly. 

I had to sit with this discomfort for awhile. It got under my skin and bothered me. 

Why didn't I do a better job? Why didn't I rewrite it a fourth time?

But then I realized I was simply affirming a lie I've believed for too long: I'm Not Good Enough.

Here's the truth: I did the best I could. I wrote to the best of my ability. And I'm learning to forgive myself for not being perfect.

Perfectionism is paralyzing. I did a good enough job and that's good enough.

My little book didn't break any records or make any big bestsellers lists. But it did touch the hearts of the people it was supposed to touch. I get emails everyday. This has become my new definition of success: I did good for a few people. That's all I could ever hope for.

I'm learning to embrace every stage of my life without self-rejection, without self-judgment.

I practice looking at myself through the eyes of compassion, instead of scrutiny. I give myself permission to take breaks. To stop pushing so hard. My daily to-do list is much shorter these days. I say "no" more frequently. I say "yes" to fewer things. 

I spent years burning the candle at both ends and the only thing that came from that was anxiety, frustration and a kind of frantic urgency that permeated the fabric of my days.

I'm so weary of judgmental thoughts, words and actions.

I'm weary of being judgmental toward myself, I'm weary of judging others. What possible good does being judgmental accomplish? As the early desert fathers would say, "Being judgmental is too heavy a burden a bear." It's true, isn't it? We carry such a heavy load when we live our lives judging ourselves, judging others. I'm learning the difference between judgment and discernment.

Discernment looks like wisdom. It is able to decide and take action without harshness, without personal attachment. Discernment is gentle. It isn't loud. It moves quite softly. Tenderly. It doesn't need to be right. It only needs to honor its still, small voice.

I am learning to embrace my soft, sensitive self. I am learning to honor my need for rest.

Writing this second book has been a much different experience for me. I'm not pushing myself. When I hit writer's block, I allow myself to walk away. I've begun keeping a small crochet project on my writing desk. When I am stuck, I pick up the piece I'm working on and gently crochet my way out of writer's block.

Tomorrow I will get up and go back to bootcamp again. I will run through dark streets. I will sweat. I will grunt. I will despise the pain. But then I will drive home and the sky will be shot through with pink. I will see the sunrise and feel the dawning hope of a new day.

A few weeks ago I was trying to describe a pay phone to my eleven year old son. He'd never seen one and was utterly baffled. 

"You put a quarter in it? I don't understand. You had to put actual money inside the phone because otherwise you couldn't call someone?"

Jewel, 15.senior company ballerina at Maple Youth ballet, ca. Photo credit: hannah levin

"Well, if you didn't have any change, you could always call collect," I said.

"Call collect? What's that?"

"It means you'd dial 0 for the operator and then—"

"Wait. What's an operator?"

I stared at him. It was hard to believe we were having this conversation. When I was his age, I'd never have guessed pay phones were so near becoming obsolete that my own kids wouldn't know what they were. Technology couldn't move that fast, right? Ha. These days my idea of an "old" phone is the iPhone 5.

This troubles me.

I feel like I've lost something significant in these past few years. I feel like I've lost my real life. Or maybe I've just lost my ability to be present in it.

In the heady, early days of blogging, tweeting and smart phones, everything seemed possible. The fact that we could instantly communicate with people all over the world—it just blew our minds. We called ourselves Early Adopters. We were proud of ourselves, of the Internet, of being the lucky generation to experience this brave new world.

I mean, it was pretty incredible. I'll never forget how I felt holding my first iPhone.

It was magical. All my email accounts: available immediately. All those amazing apps: instant life-changers. FINALLY, I would hit my fitness goals because of this thing called a couch-to-5k-app. 

And blogging. Ohhhhhhh, blogging. How I loved you! How I still love you!

But then something happened: I started writing books and found myself unable to concentrate for extended periods of time. When I sat down to write, my sentences were 140 characters and my chapters were, like, 500 words. Max. I was THINKING IN TWEETS.

Over and over my editor would say: "This is a great idea, develop it more." Develop what more? A punchy little opinion wasn't enough?

So, I tried developing my ideas. But I kept tapping out at 500 words. Yikes. Was I losing my ability to write long-form? Had I lost the capacity to engage a deep, extensive thought process because I'd been spending too much time on social media?

Book writing was much different than blogging, not to mention blasting out pithy little tweets.

But I couldn't imagine living without my iPhone, my Twitter, my Facebook, my blog—they seemed indispensable. A new blog comment pinging my inbox totally derailed my train of thought. The ring-tones attached to Twitter replies and FB notifications endlessly distracted me. I began feeling anxious when I didn't have my iPhone on me. I needed it.

Still, I didn't think anything was really wrong with—wasn't everyone addicted to their iPhones?— until one night I witnessed someone else's unhealthy attachment to their phone. 

I was throwing a dinner party and had cleaned the house, prepared a meal and set the table just so. My friends arrived one-by-one and we exchanged hugs and greetings— except for the woman who walked in the door looking at her iPhone. She glanced up, said, "Oh, hi!" and gave us all a distracted side-hug while still looking at her phone. Throughout dinner she kept looking at her phone, sometimes chuckling to herself or shaking her head or texting. She dipped in and out of our conversation but it was so awkward that eventually someone joked that our real life dinner party must be boring compared to the one our friend was having with her iPhone.

We all laughed. But it wasn't really funny. And that's when it hit me. I've done that.

I've been the half-present person at a dinner party. I've been the half-present mom at the playground, the half-present friend, the half-present writer. What if distraction was ruining my writing?

What if distraction was ruining my life? Has 24/7 accessibility really improved communication? Are we better listeners now? Are we better employees because our bosses can reach us anytime of day or night? Are our relationships more intimate now that we communicate through texting? When did real-life interaction—not to mention an actual phone call— become inconvenient? 

All of this leads me to today. I've been quiet online again. I had to. My second book was in crisis.

It was pretty clear the quality of my writing suffered when I was toggling between book-writing, blogging, FB and Twitter. 

At first I thought I just needed more time to write. But no. Even if I had all the time in the world, if I was only half-present, it wouldn't matter.

I didn't need more time in my day. I just needed to use that time more wisely—meaning, I needed to be FULLY PRESENT to book writing when I was book writing. And also, FULLY PRESENT to the rest of my life when I wasn't writing.

Jewel, 15. senior company ballerina @ Maple Youth Ballet, CAlifornia. Photo Credit: Hannah Levin

When I wasn't fully present in other areas of my life, being present during the creative process of writing was a struggle. Improving my craft requires discipline, patience and most of all, attentiveness. Just like no dancer becomes a skilled ballerina after a few classes, no writer masters their craft just writing blog posts. For me, great writing requires mindfulness and fully-present attention. If I want to be an excellent writer, I must forsake multi-tasking.

Honestly, fasting from the Internet has felt like a kind of death. I didn't realize how attached I was to my online world until I detached from it.

I went through withdrawal. No, seriously. It took about a week for the initial phantom-vibrations to stop. I had to delete all my social media apps off my phone so I wouldn't be tempted for "just one more look" at Facebook.

I limited myself to twenty minutes a day "checking in" on FB, Twitter and Instagram—but without engaging.

A huge controversy erupted on Twitter and it was precisely the kind of thing my former self would have engaged extensively. But I didn't. Know what I learned? Problems solve themselves with or without my intervention. The Internet doesn't really care (or even notice!) if I disappear for awhile. And I love that. It's removed the compulsion of always needing to know What Is Happening Online; as if the world needs me to respond. Immediately.

I've also learned something else:

If I live my life on the Internet, I just might miss the real life that's happening offline.

It isn't easy, but I'm learning the virtue of a life lived more slowly. I'm learning to appreciate the value of relationships in real life with people whom I regularly see face-to-face. I'm learning the value of carefully chosen words. I'm enjoying the satisfaction of a well-crafted sentence. I'm slowing down to savor long meals with many courses.

Here's what I know for sure: I still love blogging. But mostly, I love writing. I just can't write-super-fast anymore (or, at least not as often). I won't be compelled by the false urgency of social media. I can't play by Internet rules. For my own health and to protect the quality of my writing, I have to place limits on my iPhone & social media usage.

So, this is what you can expect from my blog going forward:

1. I'll post less but each post will be deeper—meaning: I'll be writing posts that are longer than 500 words. I may DEVELOP a topic over several (or many) posts. I'm writing for depth, not for reach. I don't care HOW MANY people read so long as the few who DO read, are truly touched. You can expect one new post a month. Note: If you were subscribed to my "old blog's" RSS feed and would like to receive new blog posts by email, you will need to re-subscribe by clicking here and entering your email address. Once you do, go to your inbox and confirm the message sent to you. Note: this is an email subscription to my new posts ONLY, not my mailing list.

2. For EXTRA stuff, I'm starting a subscriber-only "EE-letter." This quarterly newsletter will contain updates on my second book, journaling prompts, book reviews, odes to a new fave lipstick, recipes I've tried and liked, pictures of puppies!, gushing about my ballerina and other fun, subscriber-only content. Sign up below! NOTE: The EE-letter will contain separate content, NOT blog posts. If you want both the EE-letter AND new blog posts, subscribe to both separately. :) 
3. Some other changes: my "old blog" is now accessible only via the ARCHIVES page. This new JOURNAL page is my "new blog" and from now on will feature all new (LONGER AND MORE DEVELOPED!) posts. Once again, if you want NEW blog posts via email, you will need to RE-SUBSCRIBE by clicking here.

How to subscribe:

To receive NEW blog posts via email (old blog RSS subscribers need to re-subscribe), please do so by clicking here: NEW POSTS BY EMAIL.

To follow my blog in your favorite RSS reader, click the JOURNAL RSS link below:

Blog RSS

To sign up for my EE-letter:

Welcome to my new website. Take a look around. It's pretty isn't it? My precious friend, Hillary Rain, crafted this beautiful space for me and I couldn't be more thrilled. Thank you, soul-sister.

Here's to writing. Here's to passion. Here's to excellence. Here's to being fully present and fully alive.  

Jewel, 15. senior company ballerina @ Maple Youth Ballet, California. Photo credit: Hannah Levin