True

So, the problem is that I don’t know how to begin.

I'm just . . . I don’t even know what I am.

I’m sitting here alone in my chilly kitchen this morning. It’s dark and quiet and all I hear is the sound of the coffee machine bubbling behind me. Hurry up, coffee.

Every so often I also hear the stairs creak and I pray it’s not one of the kids. Not yet, not yet! I’ m not ready. I need some time to talk to my Monkees.

I’m tired. We three (Chase, Andrea and I) were up late into the night counting bids and crying and celebrating.

The auction was a success beyond what we’d allowed ourselves to imagine. When all is said and done, we will have raised close to $4000 for our friends, Evy and Rocky. Crazy, right? Crazy love.

But we all know it’s not about the money. For me, it’s not even really about Evy and Rocky. Those girls are gonna be all right . . . I know it. For me, it was about Jill and Tova. It was about taking care of mamas. About proving to them that people will show up. It was about creating balance. When something awful happens, so will something wonderful. Keep watching. It was about being Sisters. And Brothers. That’s what it’s always about here.

Six months ago, I got some world shattering, faith shaking news from a friend. And I was in my car at a stop light and I was crying and I was really, really angry at God and the whole world. And in my head, I spat at God, “What the hell?? Is this the deal down here, then? Does love even really win? EVER?”

And I am telling you that I sensed Him answering: “I don’t know, G. Does it?”

And so today, I can finally answer Him.

Yeah. It does.

Yes. It does.

Love wins.

On Earth as it is in Heaven.

Listen, I’m just a mess this morning. When I first got to the computer, I was okay. I had a writing plan. But then I opened up an email from a new Monkee who loves us and whom you will love that was so honest and beautiful that it knocked the wind out of me.

She closed with this:

There is a song by Bebo Norman, called "Borrow Mine." It is a song he wrote about a conversation heard between two friends; one, who was going through deep personal troubles, told the other, "I just don't know if I have faith anymore." The other fried replied by saying, "Then, you can borrow mine. I'll have enough faith for both of us."

I know.

My favorite part is that the friend didn’t say, “I have enough for both of us.” He said “I’ll have enough for both of us.” Because love is an act of will, isn’t it? It’s a choice. Always a choice. Love is a stubborn, willful act of hope. Loving is saying I believe. And the only thing that matters is faith expressing itself as love. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing else.

Here, we are making the choice to believe and behave like We Belong To Each Other. We believe that Love Wins. We believe that at any given point in time, some of us will have enough faith in that to carry the others through. We have decided. That’s what God meant, I think, when he said, “I don’t know G, is it?”

He meant: “It’s really up to you, honey. What do you think? And what will you do about it?”

It was up to us to take care of Tova and Jill this week. And we did it. With our art and our money and our enthusiasm and our time and tears and keyboards and prayers, we loved them. We had enough faith for each other.

You listen to me. Don’t be afraid. You can rest and relax. Just breathe. Because if you lose your faith, we’ll have enough for both of us. We will carry you through. You belong to us. It's True.

This thanksgiving, I am so, very, incredibly thankful that Love Wins. And I am so thankful that we are helping each other prove it.

A million blessings to the Whole Monkee Family, immediate and extended. When I take my first bite of thanksgiving dinner, (which obviously I will have had zero part in preparing) I am going to think of you, and of us, and of all the Monkee Miracles.

Love, Love, Love forever.

G

PS. Please head over the auction page, when you get a chance, to check out the results and next steps.

THIS IS THE DAY

TODAY IS THE DAY! TODAY IS THE DAY!!!!!! IT'S ROCKY'S AND EVY'S DAY!!!

Please head over to the Momastery Auction and prepare to be blown away by the unbelievable outpouring of Monkee Love. After being blown away by that, prepare to be blown away by the concept of shopping in your pjs while changing the world!

Thank you to our donors, thank you to our bidders, and thank you to Andrea . . .who has been up many, many nights making this happen.

This is going to be a beautiful thing. As a matter of fact, it already is.

So proud to know you, Lovies.

Now . . . spread the word! Post the auction page on your Facebook page, blog, forehead , front yard . . . people want to be invited to beautiful events, and you are hosting one today, Lovies. Invite, invite, invite!

Love,

Andrea, Glennon and TWMF

Important Stuff and Things

Oh, my Lovies.

So much to share.

First, it appears that as of December 1...We Monkees will have our own newspaper column!

Our column will appear in a wonderful, positive, classy paper which is edited by a visionary who loves us and respects what we are doing here. When he first contacted me, I was skeptical. But after speaking with him for two hours last weekend, I have come to believe that this was meant to be for us. He's a Monkee, you guys. He and his wife read the blog every day . . . they've read every single post. He called us "magical." He used the words "in awe" several times. He told me that we were his leaders. Before us, his leader was Phil from Modern Family and so I am just really, really impressed because clearly he chooses his leaders very carefully. I trust him with our message of love and peace and BOO to housework. So I said, Okay, New Friend. You can put us in print. Please be careful. And he said, I understand what you mean, I will be careful. Keep doing what you're doing. It's important. He gets it. He gets us.

I'm not sure what our column will be named. I actually had a column once before . . . it was in my high school newspaper and I named it "Nothin' But a G Thang." With an a. Oh, Lord. I actually don't think we should talk about that anymore. I just think it's a good idea to let our new editor friend choose the name this time around.

Anyway, Congratulations, Monkees. You were right. People want more of this community of love you've worked hard to create. People understand that this is the way it was meant to be. I'll share the rest of the column details when it's time.

Speaking of The Way it was Meant To Be . . . next week we'll hold our auction to send Evy to camp and bring Tova's daughter home from Swaziland. We're gonna earn our turkey dinners this year, Monkees.

And we're gonna offer you a sneak peak today. Today, today, today!

Listen to me, because this is really something special.

Our country's Secret Service Special Operations unit has donated to our auction a pair of impossible-to-come-by tickets to a Candlelight Tour of the White House on December 20th at 3pm.

That whole sentence is just so beautiful and fancy I can hardly stand it.

Ever since I heard about this donation, I've been dreaming about dressing up and taking Chase to our nation's capital for this tour. About walking around the awe-inspiring hallways of the White House and telling Chase how we came by the tickets . . . how our military donated the tickets for Evy and Tova's African daughter.

If that won't put you in holiday spirit, Lovies, I'm really not sure what will.

If you're interested in bidding on this unique experience, please head over to our Momastery Auction Blog and post your best bid in the comments section. We will close this auction and announce the winner tomorrow at noon. The money from the winning bidder will be collected through a paypal account and all proceeds will be divided between Evy's and Tova's families.

If you have any suggestions about how to make the auction flow better, please comment here. Andrea and I are going to use the next few days to work out the kinks so we're ready to roll with the rest of the auction on Monday!

Monkees, please take deep breaths and be gentle with yourselves today.

Love, G

What D'ya Know?

I ran into an old friend yesterday who told me that she reads Momastery everyday and loves it. She said, thank you so much for writing it. And I said, You are so welcome instead of squirming and making up a million reasons to reject her gratitude. Learning how to gracefully accept criticism and compliments is hard, but I'm trying.

Then she said the following:

Do you ever worry that you might share too much? Do you worry that when it's time to go back to work, no one will hire you because of your festive past?

Huh. Hm. Nope. Never worried about that.

I rushed home and yelled up the stairs:

HUSBAND! Do you ever worry that when it's time for me to go back to work, no one will hire me because I've told the world all about my festive past?

Husband: I mean, I've considered it.

Me: Why didn't you ever mention anything to me?

Husband: It was too late.

Me: Oh.

Hm.

It seems, Monkees, that I may have rendered myself eternally unemployable here.

And I just have one thing to say about this.

ARE THE UNEXPECTED BLESSINGS THAT RESULT FROM THIS LITTLE BLOG JUST NEVER-ENDING???????

I could just die of excitement. I might write about a few things I haven't even done just to seal the deal.

Retired! Retired! Forever retired!!! Yoga pants 4-ever!!!

Joy.

Love,

G

Holiday Monkee Love

Lovies . . .

The Monkee Elves are hard at work creating a Momastery online auction which will be held on November 22nd and 23rd.

We are going to raise some funds to send Evy to camp and to bring Tova's daughter (we call her Rocky) home from Africa to be with her family and receive treatment for her HIV.

So, I guess in this particular case . . . Mo' Money, Fewer Problems.

On Christmas morning, when I'm snuggled up on my couch sipping my coffee next to my hubby and (SISTER SISTER SISTER!) in my fuzzy socks watching the fire crackle and my kids tear through their (far too many) gifts. . . I want to know in my little heart that I was part of something big this Christmas. That other families, on other couches, are breathing easier and braver and more joyfully because The Monkees stepped in and proved that We Belong To Each Other.

You too?

If you have an item to donate to our little auction and you did not receive an email from me this morning...would you please send the following to amcconnell5@verizon.net by Tuesday, November 16th?

1. A picture of the item(s)

2. A description of the items and a short intro to YOU

3. Your website, store name, etc.

More information and celebrating to come.

Happy Sunday, Monkees.

Love.

PS. Please don't worry if you're not a Monkee donor. Maybe you could be a Monkee buyer. We need those too. And please don't worry if you're not a Monkee donor or buyer. Maybe you can be a Monkee cheer-er on-er. We need those too.

We need everybody.

Love.

Mo' Money, Mo' Problems

Monkee land is expanding, it seems. We are growing fast. My inbox is a little scary.

I realize that for most bloggers, growing is the point. But growing fast makes me nervous. Partly because I haven’t grown since 1982, so it’s unfamiliar territory.

My inbox is full of beautiful new Monkee emails, which I savor and save, but I have also started receiving three totally different types of emails.

The first type goes like this:

Glennon, we love your blog and we think that you and your readers would love our products! We’d love to send you a free (book, trip, ticket, halter top, baby genius tape, pan) for you to try and review for your readers!

The second type goes like this:

Glennon, we think your readers would be a perfect match for our (Zit cream, jewelry line, Cooking for Dummies Line, etc) We’d love to advertise on your blog!

The third goes like this:

Glennon, I write for such and such blog. I have one million bazillion followers. Would you like to swap links so we can access each other’s readers?

So far I’ve just been quietly ignoring these emails, but since they are coming fast and furious now, it’s time to respond once and for all. And I think maybe we should review a few basic tenants of Momastery. Just in an effort to stay true to our roots, to keep it real.

Kay. We Monkees and our Momastery are not for sale.

I have never, and will never make a penny off of this blog. I will never accept a freebie. On the rare case that I offer a giveaway, it’s because A MONKEE has something MONKEE LIKE she’d like to share out of love. And if I love the Monkee thing, I BUY the Monkee thing. So that there is never any confusion about what it is that I am doing here. And I will never, ever, reference a link I’m not in love with just to gain a few readers. Goodness gracious.

Listen, I honestly don’t know where this blog is going. But I do know how we’re gonna get there and how we’re not gonna get there.

One of the purposes of this blog is to prove that things exist that are not for sale. That money and efficiency and publicity and popularity might not be the answers, the end games, the highest goals, the keys to happiness.

Everybody keeps suggesting to everybody else that these things ARE the answer. But I’m suspicious. Isn’t the fact that Dr. Drew makes a good living proof that 15 minutes of fame and fast cash do not necessarily a peaceful life make?

Our goal is to go deep here, not wide. We are collecting hearts, not exposure, and certainly not cash.

Our goals are to be careful, to be slow and pay attention and look closely at each other and to re-think and pray and feel and wake-up and care and connect. So we can become braver and live bigger and realer on this Earth.

My favorite book is Walden, by Thoreau. Thoreau was this thoughtful man who became suspicious that the world’s hoopla was making him forget what life was really about. So he decided to perform a love experiment. He never called it a love experiment because, well - because he’s a boy, but it was. He went into the woods for two years and lived on the land by a beautiful pond named Walden. And he thought and he wrote and he read and he tried to remember what he was born knowing. It was easier to remember because it was so quiet, and so he ended up writing this beautiful book in which every sentence makes my heart leap and forces me to scream to no one: LISTEN TO THIS, LISTEN TO THIS! And so Craig hates when he sees me walking around with Walden because he knows he’s going to have to do a lot of LISTENING TO THIS!

The two hours I spend writing to you each morning are my Walden. Momastery is my way of starting each day remembering what I know in the quiet.

I’d prefer to go live in the woods for two years, trust me. But I know they’d find me. Also I really, really hate the woods. Spiders.

The point of all of this is that part of Thoreau’s experiment was to live in utter simplicity. And so he had almost no furniture in his little cabin that he built himself. And one time a lady felt sorry for him and offered him a doormat, but he refused it. He said, “It’s better to avoid the beginnings of evil.”

Now listen, I don’t think that Thoreau thought doormats were evil, and I certainly don’t think blog advertising or giveaways or link swapping are evil. I just think he meant that he needed to keep his love experiment pure.

And that’s what we need to do here at Momastery. We need to never become starry eyed and dazzled and forget what we are doing here.

People are always saying the following to me: “Can’t wait for Oprah, We’re gonna be on Oprah someday!” But listen. Oprah is not the answer! As a matter of fact, being on Oprah might ruin everything. Those things are shiny and bright and WOW but we are not a shiny, WOW Revolution. We are a quiet, slow revolution. We are a one at a time revolution.

We are not for show and we are not for sale. And we are not successful if we make it to Oprah or the Today show or start creating serious revenue or what HAVE YOU.

We are successful because chances are that tonight some tired and lonely mom will click on a friend’s link and get lost in our essays and our comments and our love for each other. And she will ignore her husband for hours and she will cry a little and laugh a lot and she will read on and on and on. And it may take her months to rally the courage to comment, but she will meet us here every day because she has finally found her people! She has finally found a group of women whose only motive is to love and laugh together and who are NOT FOR SALE. And this will help her believe and be peaceful and feel a little less suspicious and more comfortable and safe and brave on this Earth. And so she will be full of joy. DONE. REVOLUTION WON. Without Oprah!

Please listen to me. The revolution is not in the future, the revolution is not on the Today Show. The revolution is in one quiet kitchen at a time. One Monkee at a time. Slow and steady. Tiny as a mustard seed. The Revolution, the kingdom of God, is INSIDE each of us. It is won or lost THERE, in each heart. Not on Prime Time.

Listen. If Lou and Oprah both called me tonight, and they both asked me to meet them for coffee. .. I would meet Lou.

It is possible that when I arrived, I might ask Lou if she felt like going to meet Oprah with me.

But if Lou was tired and kind of comfortable and said NAH, I’d say, Okay Lou, you’re right. Latte, please.

If the Monkees need money, we’ll raise it. If we need a particular word spread, we’ll spread it.

But we are not for sale. We deal in a different currency here.

And that currency is this:

Are you more joyful when you leave this place? Are you more inclined to believe that you are good and brave and true, and that others are doing the best that they can? Are you more willing to consider that there might be hope for all of us?

THEN THE REVOLUTION IS WON!

Once, on being asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus replied, “The coming of the kingdom of God is not something that can be observed, nor will people say, ‘Here it is,’ or ‘There it is,’ because the kingdom of God is inside you.” Luke 17: 20,21

Our Best

So, Lovies, it's 4 am and I just rolled out of bed with great excitement and fear because it's today now, and today is the day I have tell you about Evy's fundraiser.

Evy's fundraiser was such a ridiculously magical and sacred evening that it seems absolutely impossible to explain. But I'll try.

Sunday evening, Leigha and Lou and I arrived at this little cafe outside of Fredericksburg, which from the outside reminded me of Santa's Workshop.

It was just like Santa's workshop on the inside, too, because upon entry we were greeted by joyful elves scurrying around and shiny gifts everywhere.

And then there was Andrea, who I guess would be Santa, if Santa were quite hot and businesslike and blonde and sassy. Andrea was running the show alongside her aunt and uncle. Her aunt and uncle came from Chicago to help Andie with Evy's fundraiser. Yes, they did.

There you go. There they are. Jill and Brian. Evy's parents. This is what they looked like all evening. Laughing, gorgeous, bright and shiny and peaceful, peaceful. I know because I stared at them a lot.

A writer from the Huffington Post contacted me recently because she wants to do a story about Evy. She asked about Jill and Brian and I told her this:

I've only met Jill and Brian once. But if you are looking for a family to help raise awareness and hope for pediatric cancer, you've found your family. Jill and Brian are sharp as tacks and easy to be with and very clearly in love with each other and life. They are funny, too. . . really funny. And their girls, OH THEIR GIRLS. Look at their pictures. I'll leave it at that.

Monkees, Jill and Brian are the stuff.

Monkee Julie worked the door, collecting the entrance fees. She held a bag full of money that will help send Evy to camp. Monkees, meet Julie, one of your Monkee embassadors to Evy's family. Here is what Julie is: She is one of those people who makes you feel wonderful. She does not try to make you feel like she is wonderful. I have learned that there is a difference. Love you, Julie.

The Lou and The Chimmy. My sisters. Great shirt huh? I am always very careful to take it off before I set foot in my kitchen.

This is Sue Ann, Monkees. Meet Our Sue Ann. Sue Ann told me that she was nervous to come to the fundraiser, because social things make her anxious and she considers herself to be a wallflower. But Sue Ann explained that her husband is a Marine, and Marines have this honor code. When one of them falls, everybody arrives to pick up the fallen one. You show up for each other, Sue Ann told me, even when it's hard to show up.

Oh, I squeaked out. Oh.

Thank you, Sue Ann.

And Susie. Here's our Susie Q, with her little one. Whom she introduced as "Rosemary's baby." I love Susie. My kind of girl.

Check out Rosemary's baby's T-shirt, please.

Meet Rachelle and her precious family. Her little one, Skylar was one of my preschool students. I love this family. But since they have a newborn and live two hours away, I didn't expect to see them on Sunday night. Expect Miracles.

I was holding it together pretty well until I heard the door open and saw these two walk in.

Monkees, meet Sunny and Tom. You might know him as "Tattoo Tom."

Sunny and I used to play together when we were little. And then life started happening and we lost each other. A lot of life happened to Sunny while we were apart. The list of hits she's taken is long and sacred and private, but let's just say that she's a fighter. Sunny fights like a girl every single day. And I love her very, very much. And I love her husband, Tom, too. Because they are brave and strong and loving, but also because when I see Sunny she reminds me of being little and free and unafraid of what life might bring and just loving my friend because she was my friend.

We just didn't know, did we, Sunny? We didn't know how hard it would all be.

But we didn't know how tough we were either, did we, Sunny?

And so when I saw Sunny and Tom walk through the door, I cried. Because they are the last people I expected to show up at Evy's fundraiser. They have five young children at home, and one in heaven. They lost Shayla to cancer when she was eighteen, and so I thought it would be much too hard for them to be at Evy's.

But Tom said, "I would do anything for that little girl. Yes, it's hard to be here, but I couldn't not be here."

And so even though money and time and energy are scarce these days . . . Sunny and Tom found a sitter and got in the car and drove and drove and drove to be there. To stand there. That's all that was required. And Sunny brought Jill this:

Oh Jesus, Monkees. It was all just too much for my little heart to handle.

There was a bidding war on Kristi's We Can Do Hard Things Sign. I think it ended up going for $100.

Lou won this beautiful set of...I don't know what they are actually. Housey things.

Listen. This thing is not a toothbrush holder for an orphanage. And you should not suggest that it might be in front of a large group of people. Just trust me on that one. It'll be embarrassing.

It's a vase, people. A vase. Whatever. Would have been my last guess.

I got in a bidding war with another lady for this purple bag. I was trying to win it for my baby Sister. When I told a Monkee this, she said, "Isn't Sister doing legal mission work in Africa?" And I said, "Listen, heroes need fancy handbags, too."

So all night I fought for this bag, Sister. All night I would tell myself: "Self! Stop thinking about the purple bag . . .think about EVY. Evy, Evy, Evy." And at the last second the lady I was battling swooped in and wrote down the winning bid. And I was so mad I thought about Fighting Her Like a Girl but then decided maybe that wasn't completely in the spirit of the evening. Sorry, sister. This bag would've gone really well with your . . . I don't know . . .sandals?

Anyway, the swoopy bidding lady told me she liked my shirt later, so I forgave her.

This is Alyssa, Evy's physical trainer. I loved her right away because she approached me and said, "Excuse me, can I ask you something? Random people keep tapping me on the shoulder and whispering . . . are you a Monkee? I'm so confused. Do you have any idea what they're talking about?"

Hi Alyssa! Are you there, Alyssa? Welcome!

Leigha and Chimmy. I shall put one in my left pocket and one in my right pocket and I shall be happy forever.

I have no idea who these women are, I just found them positively delightful, and asked for a picture.

Kay. These are the Carmichals. These are Declan's parents. When I saw the Carmichals, I felt exactly how I feel when I see a group of soldiers at the airport. I felt proud, reverent, grateful, and full of awe and respect.

A very new Monkee . . . Hi Stephanie! Warm and comforting and sweet and wonderful, this one. Like hot chocolate.

And . . . Meghan.

You guys are gonna want to meet Monkee Meghan. After two minutes I felt like maybe Meghan and I had been friends for two decades. Hilarious, passionate, generous and precious as the day is long. Drove hours to be there. Love you, Meghan.

While Andrea was giving this toast, which was too heartbreakingly beautiful to try to re-create, I was thinking:

I wish all my Monkees could have a friend like Andrea.

But then I thought. Well . . .

All the Monkees could be a friend like Andrea.

I don't know how to do justice to the beauty of the evening. How to describe how it changed the world for me, helped me figure some important things out. How it proved to me that despite some evidence to the contrary . . . the world is, in fact, a place where people who don't even know one another take care of one another. Where we are all brothers and sisters. Where just showing up for each other is all it takes.

Luckily, Tattoo Tom is brilliant, and he figured out how to sum it all up.

Everytime I passed by Tom at the fundraiser, I would grab his arm or give him a hug, because I feel like Tom and Sunny are people who should be honored. One time I stopped and asked Tom if he was doing all right, if all of this was too hard, if it was bringing back too many memories of his beautiful daughter, Shayla.

And Tom said this:

"You know, G. It's weird. When I think back to that time, the time when Shayla was dying, I realize that it was the happiest time in my life. Every morning I woke up and I knew exactly what my purpose was. I knew exactly where I was supposed to be, who I was supposed to be with, and what I was supposed to be doing. My relationship with my daughter was real during that time, it was perfect and simple. I have never been at my best like I was during that time."

I cannot stop thinking about that.

What we want, all we want is to know what we are supposed to be doing down here, right?

Tom and Sunny know. Jill and Brian know. The Carmichals know. Andrea knows.

We are supposed to be caring for each other. That's when we are real, perfect, simple, happy. That's when we are at our best.

God Bless Evy and God Bless Us, Every One.

Love, G and TWMF (The Whole Monkee Family)