Living Real

by Cara McLauchlan

It’s time for me to start being more honest about things. Like the fact that I don’t like Starbucks Coffee. There. I said it. I know everyone loves Starbucks Coffee and how great it tastes. But I really think that it tastes like someone’s socks that have been boiled for long periods of time.

I've decided that this is going to be my “Year of the Real.” I’ve noticed that my life has slowly gathered a lot of unwelcome clutter. Things that I have not really said “yes” to, but that I have not said “no” to in an out loud way.

My life has become about keeping my options neatly packaged and hermetically sealed. I don’t know how I got so afraid. It seems to go out and claim your “Yes!” you have to be a bit naked. I have been silently closing, locking and boarding up every open door of risk for fear of something bad happening.

Thoughts of the Boogie Man, children dying in the night, robbers, house fires, IRS audits and the fact that I haven’t cleaned out my dryer lint trap fill my head every night. I have found so many things to fear. I think there is a demented place in me that thinks if I actually worry about it, I can somehow prevent it from happening.

The truth is that bad stuff happens even if we worry about it. But so does the good. And you might as well go about enjoying your stay here on earth until the Big Guy calls your number.

Which brings me to the subject of God. I think God likes to hear us speak to him in a real way – even if it’s not holy or flowery or even happy. And praying does not just happen on our knees or with the Bible neatly placed before us. I pray to God as I am driving, when I’m exercising, when I am cooking. My favorite time to pray is when I am pumping gas. I have found that because I drive a ridiculous gas-guzzler, I can create a bit of peace about it by praying for people while I fill up. I think God likes it when we include him our days, even if it’s at the gas station.

Living real can be hilarious. This week I was driving past a group of construction workers and for the 999th time they all stopped, stared and oogled me as I went by. Instead of my typical approach of feeling intimidated and averting my eyes, I did something else. I looked them all directly in the eyes and like a five-year-old I stuck out my tongue, crossed my eyes and made an absolutely ridiculous face.

They were stunned. They couldn’t believe this well-dressed, suburban woman would do such a thing. I roared with laughter as I watched their faces in my rear-view mirror.

I was real. I didn’t back down. And it felt really good.

Cara McLauchlan is really a writer that lives in Fuquay-Varina, NC. When she is not making ridiculous faces at construction workers, she is also a mommy and believes that Flavia makes the best coffee on this planet. She can be reached at cara@crankymommies.com or 919/552.1818.