an old poem
"pain of the moon"
the moon understands my pain.
there is always a faint light in the dark proving the link between lonely companions.
his craving refuses to be satisfied.
though the light becomes brighter with time, there is effort behind the smile.
the silence is beautiful, wise, but slow.
the hurdles of the undefined are relentless.
so, he holds in his pain, for tears leave their mark on the surface.
self preservation continues as he goes through the cycle, stained by the soul that has been claimed.
he is never whole without his true light.
neither am i.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Monday, August 4, 2014
would vs. should
"i want to travel."
"i want to be successful financially."
"i want to be successful financially."
"i want to have a family."
"i want to be an olympic beach volleyball player."
the last one is mostly me. :) i do, however, hear too often about the top 3 wishes and usually in that order. these are all worthwhile and admirable goals, easy to understand. but the thing that just about slays me is the belief that we can not have them all.
this concept is one that i have been slamming myself against for some time. i have the bruises to show for it. why can't i have it all, be who i am and want to be? where is it written? prove it! i distinctly remember being around 10 years old and learning that i could either be a cheerleader or a "normal" athlete. i even dragged my basketball-playing self to try out for the sixth grade cheer squad to prove myself as "either". i failed miserably, being one of only two girls that didn't make it. that's when i realized that the definitions of a successful/happy life are very strictly defined by a mostly dysfunctional and unhappy society.
so i started on a journey to be the ultimate woman. i was going to be fashionable, but not pink-bow girly. i was going to be intelligent while also relate-able. i was going to cook and ride motorcycles and i was going to find a man who could cry appropriately while simultaneously bench pressing me and making me breakfast. it was going to happen! i don't dream only to fail, much. and this dreaming opened up some extraordinary doors to choose from. it still does.
essentially i found balance, a simple and unfortunately foreign fix for getting out of this bogus mindset. the best bit? the definition was completely up to me! everything around me choosing my life's decisions and how i should feel about those decisions still sneaks in on me, though the initial burden is nowhere to be found.
essentially i found balance, a simple and unfortunately foreign fix for getting out of this bogus mindset. the best bit? the definition was completely up to me! everything around me choosing my life's decisions and how i should feel about those decisions still sneaks in on me, though the initial burden is nowhere to be found.
Monday, February 10, 2014
a bit serious: i went to a funeral today
"If only we could live in such a way that we wouldn't need a heaven." - Daniel Taylor
Have you ever taken time to watch how the sky changes the closer it is to the sun? It's one of my favorite things and probably the reason my eyesight is so poor at my age: sun damage. It's like an explosion. Every time someone takes a moment to say "hey" to that blazing ball in the sky, it responds with a combination of warmth and overwhelming emotion. I want to cry at it's beauty, scream at the world's tedium, jump for joy over love and life, all at once. I'm tellin' ya, it's painful and wonderful.
Words have always been an outlet for me, but there are more times than not that they feel insufficient, like this time. So I will say this:
I absolutely love breathing. It's wonderful, 'aint it?
Death sucks. But without it, I wouldn't be complete.
People are most often the answers to our prayers.
If I could do anything over, I probably wouldn't. That's as long as I don't think about that option for too long. ;)
I'm convinced we know how much we are loved after we are gone. It's never too late. Thank the Lord.
There is always work to do - today, tomorrow, and even after we are gone. If ever I am feeling unproductive or useless in ways that matter, I just need to get back to work. I'd better make it fun.
Have you ever taken time to watch how the sky changes the closer it is to the sun? It's one of my favorite things and probably the reason my eyesight is so poor at my age: sun damage. It's like an explosion. Every time someone takes a moment to say "hey" to that blazing ball in the sky, it responds with a combination of warmth and overwhelming emotion. I want to cry at it's beauty, scream at the world's tedium, jump for joy over love and life, all at once. I'm tellin' ya, it's painful and wonderful.
Words have always been an outlet for me, but there are more times than not that they feel insufficient, like this time. So I will say this:
I absolutely love breathing. It's wonderful, 'aint it?
Death sucks. But without it, I wouldn't be complete.
People are most often the answers to our prayers.
If I could do anything over, I probably wouldn't. That's as long as I don't think about that option for too long. ;)
I'm convinced we know how much we are loved after we are gone. It's never too late. Thank the Lord.
There is always work to do - today, tomorrow, and even after we are gone. If ever I am feeling unproductive or useless in ways that matter, I just need to get back to work. I'd better make it fun.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
warning: rant ahead
for those of you who are looking for someone who is consistent in both life and blog posts, look elsewhere.
i am exhausted, probably due to the fact that i am indulging some self-absorbent thinking and behaviors, and the guilt-free pleasure i am gaining is pretty great, if not a little sick. here i am looking my best under my endless summer poster, my laptop nestled on my box spring while i sit cross-legged, typing away. my mattress is on the floor in the family room under the tree. B is snoring away. It's freezing outside and all is as it should be - and i may be losing my mind in the middle of all of it.
let's start with a rant. maybe this session will prove to be useful to me, posterity, or an internet dump site that i'm sure exists for crappy or ranting bloggers:
i hate the disappointment that leaks from people when they find out that we are childless after 6.5 years of marriage. even if you succeed in hiding blunt and inappropriate words, your tone or eyes will give you away and i want to scream because of it.
if i saw a known bully get his skid-marked manties shoved down his own throat, i would walk taller today. graphic, but true.
not all blondes are created equal. and not all blondes are actually blonde- but to you who are so obsessed with your latest selfie and completely unconcerned about the reality of third-world poverty, buy a one-way ticket to Nepal. leave your cell phone.
i am a stereotype by striving so desperately to be independent. i have so many ideas of who i should/want to be or, better yet, who i DON'T want to be that i have really taken no thought to who i actually am. cliché. it sounds like a cheap music lyric, which i also dislike.
i truly like being an optimist and take pride in that ability. i am always afraid of being too happy on one end or too open about my problems on the other. we all know the kind: "oh today is just WONDERFUL" (all day 'er'day) or "you have NO idea what my life is like right now". dislike.
while i'm on the topic of dislike, i hate the way i look in my only glasses that seem to give me relief from my contacts. my brother showed a picture he had with me in these glasses, and an onlooker bluntly stated, "she looks so much prettier not sick". those may not be the exact words, but it stings nonetheless.
friendships are vitally important to me. when someone doesn't give me a chance, i become obsessive over the failure of that perceived relationship. then, because i am sad over the loss, i am therefore weak. twisted thinking thanks to years of being extraordinarily female and caring about what others think.
i can thank heaven for a constant in this world, and that comes in the light of those with disabilities. they are perfect souls sent to bless my life with their presence and are probably the only people i trust and love completely. i hate inconsistency in myself and in others. true friendship seems like a chore that some people would rather not reciprocate. rude.
i feel like i have to follow the norm of finishing off this rant with some sort of completed thought or universal truth. but i am not going to. so there.
i am exhausted, probably due to the fact that i am indulging some self-absorbent thinking and behaviors, and the guilt-free pleasure i am gaining is pretty great, if not a little sick. here i am looking my best under my endless summer poster, my laptop nestled on my box spring while i sit cross-legged, typing away. my mattress is on the floor in the family room under the tree. B is snoring away. It's freezing outside and all is as it should be - and i may be losing my mind in the middle of all of it.
let's start with a rant. maybe this session will prove to be useful to me, posterity, or an internet dump site that i'm sure exists for crappy or ranting bloggers:
i hate the disappointment that leaks from people when they find out that we are childless after 6.5 years of marriage. even if you succeed in hiding blunt and inappropriate words, your tone or eyes will give you away and i want to scream because of it.
if i saw a known bully get his skid-marked manties shoved down his own throat, i would walk taller today. graphic, but true.
not all blondes are created equal. and not all blondes are actually blonde- but to you who are so obsessed with your latest selfie and completely unconcerned about the reality of third-world poverty, buy a one-way ticket to Nepal. leave your cell phone.
i am a stereotype by striving so desperately to be independent. i have so many ideas of who i should/want to be or, better yet, who i DON'T want to be that i have really taken no thought to who i actually am. cliché. it sounds like a cheap music lyric, which i also dislike.
i truly like being an optimist and take pride in that ability. i am always afraid of being too happy on one end or too open about my problems on the other. we all know the kind: "oh today is just WONDERFUL" (all day 'er'day) or "you have NO idea what my life is like right now". dislike.
while i'm on the topic of dislike, i hate the way i look in my only glasses that seem to give me relief from my contacts. my brother showed a picture he had with me in these glasses, and an onlooker bluntly stated, "she looks so much prettier not sick". those may not be the exact words, but it stings nonetheless.
friendships are vitally important to me. when someone doesn't give me a chance, i become obsessive over the failure of that perceived relationship. then, because i am sad over the loss, i am therefore weak. twisted thinking thanks to years of being extraordinarily female and caring about what others think.
i can thank heaven for a constant in this world, and that comes in the light of those with disabilities. they are perfect souls sent to bless my life with their presence and are probably the only people i trust and love completely. i hate inconsistency in myself and in others. true friendship seems like a chore that some people would rather not reciprocate. rude.
i feel like i have to follow the norm of finishing off this rant with some sort of completed thought or universal truth. but i am not going to. so there.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
table 1.1 is life-changing
The things I cannot control are often the simplest, and there is a constant need to re-train myself in accepting that truth.
As a new teenager, I became a victim to my own poor decisions. No sooner had I begun to laugh at my decision making paradigm, when one of my closest friend's father committed suicide. Mind you, I had little to no experience with death at this point. Pen immediately hit paper as I sorted through this new territory. Not only was suicide scary, it had overtaken a man I knew to be the embodiment of jolly! He had a red face that would brighten when he smiled. He played the accordion for heaven's sake! What darkness overtook someone whose spirit I had literally felt to be light?
Not long afterward, our neighbor as well as a fellow classmate had taken their lives. I began to feel very dark and focused on writing. I wrote dark things. I focused on the fact that life is short and that love and friendships end, either by choice or death. I became painfully aware of the opposition and started to hate it.
Next came the body drama. Being a girl became a challenge and a crutch, and as a now adult female, I wonder how we survive adolescence in the state of PMS and High School. My already competitive nature started to become exaggerated. If I was hurt, I would press forward until I either hurt myself worse or became crippled. Once I reached that point, I would do some serious milking. I would purposefully fall during drills that I shouldn't be doing due to my body's current state. The sick part is that I remember falling only because I wasn't doing as well as someone else, and that was embarrassing. Naturally, I would blame the fall for my 2nd place. It became a cycle.
In the middle of all of this I literally stumbled upon a Divinely timed saving grace. He is now my husband, though I am unsure as to how since he came in the middle of the sick circus I was constantly entertaining as my life. His natural state was basically conflict-free. I idolized and abhorred that about him. If you can imagine the girl I have described being so care-free and understanding on her own, than you are more optimistic than I. Just his presence required that I be free of worries that were not my own. His direct, but sympathetic, "if you can't control it, don't try" was infuriating and somehow well received. He was truthfully my kryptonite. That overly competitive and seriously conflicted 17-year-old he mesmerized suddenly had reason and a strong hand to lean on. To summarize what I learned from this dude: I do myself a disservice by focusing my God-given energies on things I can't control and entertaining anything self-damaging. He has never said this in words. I never felt attacked during the transition.
it's simple: If it is out of my control, then I simply have no remaining effort to spare on worrying about it. It is a disservice to me and my influence in this life. When in doubt, consult the table below. It's simple and life changing:
table 1.1 ;)
As a new teenager, I became a victim to my own poor decisions. No sooner had I begun to laugh at my decision making paradigm, when one of my closest friend's father committed suicide. Mind you, I had little to no experience with death at this point. Pen immediately hit paper as I sorted through this new territory. Not only was suicide scary, it had overtaken a man I knew to be the embodiment of jolly! He had a red face that would brighten when he smiled. He played the accordion for heaven's sake! What darkness overtook someone whose spirit I had literally felt to be light?
Not long afterward, our neighbor as well as a fellow classmate had taken their lives. I began to feel very dark and focused on writing. I wrote dark things. I focused on the fact that life is short and that love and friendships end, either by choice or death. I became painfully aware of the opposition and started to hate it.
Next came the body drama. Being a girl became a challenge and a crutch, and as a now adult female, I wonder how we survive adolescence in the state of PMS and High School. My already competitive nature started to become exaggerated. If I was hurt, I would press forward until I either hurt myself worse or became crippled. Once I reached that point, I would do some serious milking. I would purposefully fall during drills that I shouldn't be doing due to my body's current state. The sick part is that I remember falling only because I wasn't doing as well as someone else, and that was embarrassing. Naturally, I would blame the fall for my 2nd place. It became a cycle.
In the middle of all of this I literally stumbled upon a Divinely timed saving grace. He is now my husband, though I am unsure as to how since he came in the middle of the sick circus I was constantly entertaining as my life. His natural state was basically conflict-free. I idolized and abhorred that about him. If you can imagine the girl I have described being so care-free and understanding on her own, than you are more optimistic than I. Just his presence required that I be free of worries that were not my own. His direct, but sympathetic, "if you can't control it, don't try" was infuriating and somehow well received. He was truthfully my kryptonite. That overly competitive and seriously conflicted 17-year-old he mesmerized suddenly had reason and a strong hand to lean on. To summarize what I learned from this dude: I do myself a disservice by focusing my God-given energies on things I can't control and entertaining anything self-damaging. He has never said this in words. I never felt attacked during the transition.
it's simple: If it is out of my control, then I simply have no remaining effort to spare on worrying about it. It is a disservice to me and my influence in this life. When in doubt, consult the table below. It's simple and life changing:
table 1.1 ;)
Sunday, October 13, 2013
stereotypes much?
I love Legally Blonde, but I have a serious problem with stereotypical blondes:
- Fake, blonde, long hair
- Nails did
- "Like" everything! (Instagram, "totally's", etc.)
- Think school is a fashion show
- BFF lemmings
- Never had or needed a job
- Hearts on everything
Before I vomit, I will tell you that my mother is a blonde, but does not possess any of the characteristics of the elementary to high school nightmares I am describing. I will limit my horror story telling and say that I experienced and witnessed racism and straight up sociopathic bullying at the hands of these kinds of blondes growing up. The reason for my distaste is due to two things: poor choices of others and my allowing those choices to affect my life and views.
Change of pace: Being "old for my age" is a blessing and curse I have consciously dealt with. I have either been a role model for peers that were actually my age or someone for whom it was "just too bad you're not older". Ugh. The frustrations were endless so I figured that I was meant to lift up the weight of those less mature than I by dumbing or pulling myself down. (Note: do not try that at home). I couldn't get jobs I wanted because it was literally illegal for me to even work, let alone serve booze. I couldn't hang out with the people I wanted because it was also socially unacceptable. So I was left with the rest of the 12-year-olds whose concerns were that Junior High was scary and boys were becoming cute.
Again, not going to go into detail on teenage trauma, but I can say that I became a magnet for poor choices. Within 18 months of leaving elementary school I had had my heart broken, broken hearts, traumatized my body, experienced death of loved ones and discovered that learning the hard way was for dummies. I used writing as a way to express what I now know to be very mature experiences in a life that wasn't yet "mature". At my lowest point, I realized that up was much more desirable than staying in the down I was in. Sure, I still had my frustrations of being young and mature, but MAN was I done doing everything I was doing just because young people do that sort of thing.
This was when I came to know that learning from other's mistakes is the greatest blessing God could give me. I'm not claiming that my experiences were more harsh than anyone else. But I can tell you that I felt and still sometimes feel that my life has been far less traumatic than most. This has been my crutch for quite some time: if my life is not as rough as most people's, I have no reason to feel sad, angry or hurt. Though this mindset is a desirable alternative to "woe is me", it can still be devastating. I didn't allow myself to accept and take pride in what my experiences had made me feel and who I had become as a result of that.
Now to the point: My life is wonderful because God has given me life, people and experiences that I have chosen to embrace. Good, bad, devastating, ironic or strange, the result that is my life is because I chose to react in a certain way. Those reactions are mine. I own them. I am proud of them. Not accepting someone else's reaction as my own, like bullying blondes in retaliation or living as a "normal person my age" would is God-given gift and a strength that I am proud to have built. Too often I judge, though I believe we are fully capable of minimizing those judgments. No more can my life be wasted on anger towards people that are no longer a part of my life. I choose. If I take a second to see stereotypes as a warning for myself and others, I can build friendships with 12 and 80-year-olds, be deliriously happy and successful at any age, in my own eyes and the eyes of others, and even watch a dumb blonde graduate at the top of her class from Harvard Law.
- Fake, blonde, long hair
- Nails did
- "Like" everything! (Instagram, "totally's", etc.)
- Think school is a fashion show
- BFF lemmings
- Never had or needed a job
- Hearts on everything
Before I vomit, I will tell you that my mother is a blonde, but does not possess any of the characteristics of the elementary to high school nightmares I am describing. I will limit my horror story telling and say that I experienced and witnessed racism and straight up sociopathic bullying at the hands of these kinds of blondes growing up. The reason for my distaste is due to two things: poor choices of others and my allowing those choices to affect my life and views.
Change of pace: Being "old for my age" is a blessing and curse I have consciously dealt with. I have either been a role model for peers that were actually my age or someone for whom it was "just too bad you're not older". Ugh. The frustrations were endless so I figured that I was meant to lift up the weight of those less mature than I by dumbing or pulling myself down. (Note: do not try that at home). I couldn't get jobs I wanted because it was literally illegal for me to even work, let alone serve booze. I couldn't hang out with the people I wanted because it was also socially unacceptable. So I was left with the rest of the 12-year-olds whose concerns were that Junior High was scary and boys were becoming cute.
Again, not going to go into detail on teenage trauma, but I can say that I became a magnet for poor choices. Within 18 months of leaving elementary school I had had my heart broken, broken hearts, traumatized my body, experienced death of loved ones and discovered that learning the hard way was for dummies. I used writing as a way to express what I now know to be very mature experiences in a life that wasn't yet "mature". At my lowest point, I realized that up was much more desirable than staying in the down I was in. Sure, I still had my frustrations of being young and mature, but MAN was I done doing everything I was doing just because young people do that sort of thing.
This was when I came to know that learning from other's mistakes is the greatest blessing God could give me. I'm not claiming that my experiences were more harsh than anyone else. But I can tell you that I felt and still sometimes feel that my life has been far less traumatic than most. This has been my crutch for quite some time: if my life is not as rough as most people's, I have no reason to feel sad, angry or hurt. Though this mindset is a desirable alternative to "woe is me", it can still be devastating. I didn't allow myself to accept and take pride in what my experiences had made me feel and who I had become as a result of that.
Now to the point: My life is wonderful because God has given me life, people and experiences that I have chosen to embrace. Good, bad, devastating, ironic or strange, the result that is my life is because I chose to react in a certain way. Those reactions are mine. I own them. I am proud of them. Not accepting someone else's reaction as my own, like bullying blondes in retaliation or living as a "normal person my age" would is God-given gift and a strength that I am proud to have built. Too often I judge, though I believe we are fully capable of minimizing those judgments. No more can my life be wasted on anger towards people that are no longer a part of my life. I choose. If I take a second to see stereotypes as a warning for myself and others, I can build friendships with 12 and 80-year-olds, be deliriously happy and successful at any age, in my own eyes and the eyes of others, and even watch a dumb blonde graduate at the top of her class from Harvard Law.
Friday, October 11, 2013
fear means GO!
About 20 minutes ago, I was elated to share my philosophies on life. I get to do it all day at work with one-on-one conversations with quality people, and I feel invigorated at the end of the day. Welcome to now, where I am greeted with nervousness and apprehension.
Which brings us to the cliché's. "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." If I didn't believe that, I'm positive that fear would dictate everything starting with only drinking purified water from a Brita. I have watched fear cripple children and mothers alike. The common result is disappointment. Whenever I have let fear enter my decision making or keep me from an experience, it takes me ages to recover. I inevitably have flash backs of my embarrassment or predictions of my inability to succeed. I get stuck.
PHILOSOPHY: When fear enters my life, I see it as a green light. It can mean one of two things:
1) Evil forces (which I know to be the devil and his minions) are trying to prevent you from the glorious experience around this painful corner. Press on!
2) You have experienced this discomfort before. Identify the source as the warning it is and redirect your momentum to avoid re-making unnecessary mistakes.
The first is a cop-out, a way for me to stay comfortable longer. It also opens the floodgates of justification:
"If I don't fail, I don't experience pain."
"I will just try again when I don't have so much going on."
"I'm not really ready yet."
"What if....."
"My life is fine the way it is."
I am challenging myself to keep track of how many times I have let fear stand in my way. THEN I want to measure the amount of time and opportunities lost as a result. Why would I ever ask for regret when I can recognize this cycle in myself and use it as a driving force through any fears.
The second green light is the answer to the problems I encounter when I hit the brakes at the first. What stopped me the first time? Was that delay a necessary experience? Can I learn something from this and turn it into a strength? Should I fear this same instance in the future or see it as a warning and walk by undeterred?
If I can't appreciate the blessing of identifying and learning from other's mistakes then I will most certainly make my own over and over again. I'm sorry, but that sounds idiotic, and I would prefer to feel empowered while not looking stupid to myself and people I respect and love if I can help it. So here it is:
Fear is an un-Godlike, undesirable attribute. We have to experience it to appreciate the joy of a life without fear. Then we can use it as a warning to keep us clear of experiences that can destroy us. I want to avoid delays in my progress as a worthwhile human being, so fear is something I cannot allow into my life. I control my response to fear. I choose to plow forward without it.
Which brings us to the cliché's. "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." If I didn't believe that, I'm positive that fear would dictate everything starting with only drinking purified water from a Brita. I have watched fear cripple children and mothers alike. The common result is disappointment. Whenever I have let fear enter my decision making or keep me from an experience, it takes me ages to recover. I inevitably have flash backs of my embarrassment or predictions of my inability to succeed. I get stuck.
PHILOSOPHY: When fear enters my life, I see it as a green light. It can mean one of two things:
1) Evil forces (which I know to be the devil and his minions) are trying to prevent you from the glorious experience around this painful corner. Press on!
2) You have experienced this discomfort before. Identify the source as the warning it is and redirect your momentum to avoid re-making unnecessary mistakes.
The first is a cop-out, a way for me to stay comfortable longer. It also opens the floodgates of justification:
"If I don't fail, I don't experience pain."
"I will just try again when I don't have so much going on."
"I'm not really ready yet."
"What if....."
"My life is fine the way it is."
I am challenging myself to keep track of how many times I have let fear stand in my way. THEN I want to measure the amount of time and opportunities lost as a result. Why would I ever ask for regret when I can recognize this cycle in myself and use it as a driving force through any fears.
The second green light is the answer to the problems I encounter when I hit the brakes at the first. What stopped me the first time? Was that delay a necessary experience? Can I learn something from this and turn it into a strength? Should I fear this same instance in the future or see it as a warning and walk by undeterred?
If I can't appreciate the blessing of identifying and learning from other's mistakes then I will most certainly make my own over and over again. I'm sorry, but that sounds idiotic, and I would prefer to feel empowered while not looking stupid to myself and people I respect and love if I can help it. So here it is:
Fear is an un-Godlike, undesirable attribute. We have to experience it to appreciate the joy of a life without fear. Then we can use it as a warning to keep us clear of experiences that can destroy us. I want to avoid delays in my progress as a worthwhile human being, so fear is something I cannot allow into my life. I control my response to fear. I choose to plow forward without it.
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