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[happythoughtshappythought]

last night was fun, but I was in a terrible mood for it..

Sometimes in life you take two steps forward, and 18 steps back. Sometimes you do things because they're familiar and comfortable, even though you know they're maybe not the best decisions in your life. Not saying that last night was absolutely terrible for me, but I'm sure that there are healthier ways (emotionally, at least) for me to get over having my feelings hurt. That sounds so childish... Offended isn't quite the word I would use, simply for the matter that I know I will get over it. I just want to protect my heart a little---kind've like you would see a cat protecting a hurt paw. So, to protect my heart, I fell back into familiar things. Thankfully, even in my silliness, God still had people around me who wouldn't steer me wrong. Grace is evident even when we close our eyes to it.

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Happy Friday

Happy Friday As I drive to my job on Fridays, I pass a church on one of the busy sections of Grand. There are usually at least five people (mostly old folks) standing, waving, and holding up homemade "Happy Friday" signs. Every Friday. It doesn't matter if it's raining, they're usually decked out with ponchos and umbrellas. Snow means extra scarves, and I'm sure I'll still see them when the blazing summer heat starts. They're there everyday, waving and smiling, hoping to share their happiness with the passing commuters. This week I've been contemplating what it is to be that person on the corner, holding up a sign, and encouraging those who are traveling life around me. The question was posed earlier in the week and it's seemingly found itself re-posed by different people at different times, all asking: what would this world look like, if I really believed the gospel to be true? How would that impact the people around me? The gospel should radically change how we live every day life, and therefore should splash over on those commuters. What's holding me back from having the gospel splash over? Random thoughts late at night.. I'll keep thinking on it..

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Random thoughts while singing in church..

In the hymn, "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing", when did my heart stop singing the words "prone to wander, Lord, I FEAR it..." to "prone to wander, Lord, I FEEL it..." I know that the word fear was never in the song but it always seemed more appropriate that the word feel. For so long, I've been afraid of walking BACK away from God. I mean, I left once.. What's to keep me from leaving again? I've been terrified of it.. Terrified so much that I stress myself out about it which then makes me worry about why God would put up with me. "What if he doesn't take me back if I leave?" I would wonder. What if his patience gives out? Do you know what I've been learning lately? It's not whether I run or not (I'm not, by the way) but that he won't stop chasing me. Period. He not only takes me back, but he chases after me. Every. Single. Time. So if you hear me humming this week, at least you know the story behind it..

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I think that my teacup is trying to be ironic.

I’ve been having problems enjoying every moment these days. I’ve been sick for a week, dealing with all kinds of congestion and horrendous coughing. On top of that, I’ve had this sharp muscle pain going on in my neck and down my shoulders. The pain has been so sharp that it’s brought on a consistent migraine, and I can’t focus on anything. I don’t mean to whine, but this has been excruciating. 

Even in the pain though, I am reminded of something said a few weeks ago about the nature of pain and how it’s important in our lives. Take a person with leprosy for example. Their lives are devoid of pain, devoid of the awareness of a cut, devoid of the necessity to protect this silly fragile body. 

I would expound more, however I can barely keep my eyes open. It is yet another reminder to slow down right now. While I am in pain, it reminds me that I am alive. I may have a slow go at this life thing right now, but it’s still moving. 

Oh.. life.. you’re pretty amazing sometimes, and I’m pretty lucky to still have you. It’s too fucking beautiful to have given up on it. 

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You are not a noun.. You are an adjective..

So I was geeking out while listening to a podcast, researching the meanings of nouns and adjectives. While I love what http://www.quickanddirtytips.com/education/grammar/noun-or-adjective had to say about them, I pondered what the person in the podcast was actually trying to say. Stepping away from my literal meanings, I started exploring it in a community sense. Here's a little background: Just recently I began a new job at a new place, completely unlike (and yet SO similar to) the fruitstand. I'm still there, by the way, at the fruitstand. That's another post for another day though as to why I'm still there. Anyway, the new job has reintroduced the delightful idea of spring break back into my life. This week, I'm on spring break. At some point last week, when our house was a pigsty and my energy levels were just barely hanging on until break came, I made a promise (it's legal--signed on a post-it note and everything) to the roomie that I would complete some tasks this week during spring break. The following promises were made: to put our kitchen back from the dismantling that the plumbers caused, to deep spring clean the rest of our house, to sleep (sometimes I have to make promises so to keep myself accountable), relax, and attack the jungle that is our backyard to make it bonfire ready. So far this week, I've done my taxes, deep cleaned the house, reset the kitchen, planned the upcoming jungle voyage, and stared at the clock when supposed to be sleeping. I don't know why I'm not sleeping. I'm a little upset that I'm not sleeping. I'm stressed that I'm not sleeping, which in turn is not helping with the sleeping thing. So I combat the non-sleep with reintroducing myself to traditional spring break (I say traditional, but I've never been a real spring breaker so this is my take on it all) life: I've revisited my favorite Doctor (10, of course... If you are confused, please-let's chat. I'll explain. Prepare to have your world changed.); I've wandered my neighborhood (the traditional Irish community in my town) on St. Paddy's Day; I've eaten junk food with no greens in sight (okay, I might have stolen some beets from the roomie); I've gone dancing with friends and made terrible life choices about beverages (& my roomie has the text messages to prove it). So far, it's been a full spring break and it's only Tuesday... I like to check things off a list, but even for me--this is alittle ridiculous... Which brings me back to the sleep thing. I'm trying really hard to cross things off lists. So hard that I'm making that a priority over what is supposed to be a time for my brain to rest. Lately, I've been so wound up about money and how I'm going to pay the next bill and how I can keep scraping by that I've stressed myself out. I've been on the verge of a panic attack leading up to the taxes appointment, afraid that I'd done something again to mess up my finances. Yesterday, after the appointment, I sat in my car in the parking lot outside the tax man's office and cried--out of relief. I didn't screw anything up this year. I sat there and was softly reminded of a passage: "27 Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; but I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. 28 But if God so clothes the grass in the field, which is alivetoday and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will He clothe you? You men of little faith!29 And do not seek what you will eat and what you will drink, and do not keep worrying. 30 For all these things the nations of the world eagerly seek; but your Father knows that you need these things. 31 But seek His kingdom, and these things will be added to you. 32 Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has chosen gladly to give you the kingdom." Ugh. Maybe I've figured out why I'm not sleeping.. Maybe it's because I'm forgetting to ask my Father for what he'd love to give me. Maybe I need to chill out a bit, and be where he's placed me. Maybe I don't need to be the noun in the sentence, but merely the adjective that is used to enhance the whole story. That's all from this lil adjective, folks.. at least, for right now. I've got some clean sheets and fluffy pillows calling my name.

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Day 1: Every story has a page 1...

I'm tasked with finishing this sentence: "The one thing I'd like to do over is..."

Aww geez...  Ten minutes spent trying to figure out what the one thing I'd like to do over so I can focus on it for the next ten days. Several things go through my head with this thought: First off, my counselor's going to laugh at me when I tell her what I'm doing. Secondly, no--that's not actually true. I think she'll be interested... or at least humor me. Thirdly, the concept that it has to be measurable, observable, achievable... all these "-ables...." But does it? Can I be a dreamer about it for a second? Can I list the things that I'd love to Do Over? Realistic or not, here's my list.

-- Travel more: JUST GO. Drive, fly, ride a train, whatever. Just go somewhere I'm unfamiliar with and experience something new. New location, new dirt on my shoes, new drinks, just new... ((I think I'm mourning the fact that my passport expired two months ago and for the first time since I was 14, I didn't renew it)) I am INSANELY jealous of people who just pick up and go, or even plan something out. 

-- Dye my hair an unrealistic color. When I was in college, there was this girl that dyed her hair all these insane/bright colors. I remember a note on her bathroom mirror to her roommates, when she was helping me dye my hair turquoise the first time: "I'm sorry for the explosion of COLOR. It escaped and needed to be set free. I promise I'll clean it up--as soon as I return with enough Comet." 

-- WRITE. All my thoughts. No filter. Fiction or not. Actually, I HAVE been writing, but not online. I've been doing the 2-D thing with ballpoint pens and yellow lines. I'm afraid of writing online anymore, for the reality of the judgement that people will have of me when they've read it. I've been jealous of people who write without fear of what others could say about it, not worrying about whatever they've written because they enjoy it. I've watched my friends participate in NaNoWriMo and every year, I think: "Oh! I've always wanted to try writing a book."

-- Speak a foreign language. I would like to be conversational in something other than English. I would like to not be intimidated by conjugating verbs and colloquialisms. I tried really hard once upon a time on a foreign language, and did alright... until I left it unpracticed. 

-- Create art again. I used to doodle on everything, scribbling a cartoon or a portrait. I wasn't sure if my fingers would turn back to a normal color from the residual paint left there, and I miss searching for the right light to capture a thought with a lens. 

-- Read thick novels and suck the marrow from their paper spines. Engage a vocabulary larger than VERY and SO, while expanding my philosophy and worldview. 

-- Run more than a mile without cursing someone or something. What happened? When did I stop my five mile excursions? Who IS this lazy bum I've turned into?

-- Being affectionate. You laugh--but I've withdrawn into my bubble so much that it's strange when I hug people. I have created this weird internal rule that I have to trust someone before I'll let them physically touch me. "There's too many weirdos out there." or "It's flu season." or "What if they hurt me like the past?" are my excuses. I suppose that this topic could be re-labeled to "Trust people again." 

-- Relationships. Ugh. I'm a jerk... at least, that's what I've been telling myself for the last who knows how long. I figure that's a bit better than the "I'm a horrible person" mantra that's been playing in my head since 2007. Don't worry, it's not my voice saying that I'm a horrible person. It's my ex-boyfriend's. It's my sister's. It's Daniel's. This is an onion with alllllll the layers, of which neither you nor I have time tonight to delve into. Let's just leave THAT at Karis House for right now. 

Okay, I've spent more than 10 minutes thinking about this. I'm going to cut it off right there and make myself pick something for this challenge. 

Judging by the three questions posed to me from the #DoOverChallenge, I've managed to answer though a couple of my things on my list. Because sometimes the scenery of the story adds to the adventure, I suppose that I'll try a Do Over on traveling. This means I have to step out of the comfort zone that I've dug myself into--and even scarier: invite others to go with me. Whoa whoa. One step at a time. 

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What the heck is a #DoOverChallenge?

I caught myself recounting a story the other day.. I heard the words: "That was one of the times I was shot at..." come out of my mouth and I watched the eyebrows of the other person rise quickly. I paused, thinking to myself that it shouldn't be all that surprising that I made some interesting choices earlier in life--but this version of me that this person (most people these days) know me as is the "safe" version. I've settled into a routine that I get panicky if it's threatened; I allow anxiety to wreak havoc on my life; I've stopped creating great stories to recount later. What's happened to me?

I'm over it. 

I've been reading a lot about creating a better life, creating a better story. These authors that I truly enjoy have been challenging me outside of my complacency and into a life worth living (interested as to who the authors are? Just ask--I'll share!). I've been making little changes here and there, which brought me to the latest: the #DoOverChallenge. It's 10 days (that's awesome--you know, because of my commitment issues) and progressive (meaning, I can't skip ahead--which WILL be the challenge for me). I'll keep you posted as to how it goes. 

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momentary nonsense: disregard transmission

"They're not from a girl. They're just from ery." Oh. Ouch. I know what he meant, but it still hurt my feelings. It was difficult to hear. So when do I get to become a robot?

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Carry her over the water, And set her down under the tree, Where the culvers white all day and all night, And the winds from every quarter, Sing agreeably, agreeably, agreeably of love. Put a gold ring on her finger, And press her close to your heart, While the fish in the lake their snapshots take, And the frog, that sanguine singer, Sings agreeably, agreeably, agreeably of love. The streets shall all flock to your marriage, The houses turn round to look, The tables and chairs say suitable prayers, And the horses drawing your carriage Sing agreeably, agreeably, agreeably of love.

WH Auden, "Carry her over the water" http://writersalmanac.org/page/4/

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the holiday tree & lights are up in the stores..

I am not one who jumps on the Christmas bandwagon as easily as some. I don't listen to the Christmas music until usually week of, and I'm reminded that the holiday is often very hard for many people. Drudging through some old writing, I found this bit of a conversation I had with a friend last year regarding being joyous in the season.. "We're filled with an everlasting joy.. not like this type," he says, waving his hands toward the rest of the festively decorated mall. "something deeper than that..." "You're right. and I can't understand, and I can't pretend that this will be all right in the end... so I try my best & lift up my chest to sing the power of this joy.. Whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say, it is well with my soul.." --- the holidays feel like battlegrounds for me... I wonder if that will ever change?

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I still make mix tapes...

I still make mix tapes, with the idea that somehow I can capture my thoughts or feelings during a particular time of my life. Sometimes the times change and the songs change their meaning to me. It's odd, I know. I don't remember when I made this playlist, but I found it again lately after being gone for a while. Circumstances have changed, and so have the songs' meanings. --C-minor (mewithoutyou): "I'm water, you're the dry wood.. Equal parts misguided and misunderstood.. But all the neighborhood.. Watched a fire burn from where they stood.. As the smoke said 'we're not half as bad as G-d is good'" --Birds (Deas Vail): "Oh God, how much does it take for us to be loved, for us to be saved.." --Thieving (Lovedrug): "I'm not your girl, your hell, your whore." --Trust Me (the Fray): "If I say who I know it just goes to show... You need me less than I need you" --In a Sweater Poorly Knit (mewithoutyou): "You're a door-without-a-key, a field-without-a-fence You made a holy fool of me and I've thanked you ever since." --Everything Starts Where It Ends (Lovedrug): "Wake up, you're alive We're on your side" --Excuses (Deas Vail): "Save yourself, now don't be scared... I'll do my part and be right there.. I will probably come out running with exploding buildings right behind me" --Stop Smoking Because It's Not Good For You (I Can Make a Mess...): "This isn't what you thought it was. I should have known this from the start. Like twenty miles of catacombs. And now you're with me in my heart. Looking on so far, saying 'There, I've got you now.'" --Like Socrates Loved the Truth (Bradley Hathaway): "Like Johnny loved June, like flowers love to bloom, like a knight loves a princess, like a mother bird loves to nest... So do I love you..." I still have thoughts brewing.. Especially about stuff said last night.. But for now, these are my thoughts because they're what I'm listening to (once again)... My heart longs for another to sing to and be sung to... and all the while I talk to God...

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sometimes I don't have the words..

Psalms 61 says: From the ends of the earth, I cry to you for help when my heart is overwhelmed. Lead me to the towering rock of safety, For you are my safe refuge, a fortress where my enemies cannot reach me. Let me live forever in your sanctuary, safe beneath the shelter of your wings!  This week, I've been super overwhelmed. It's been a constant battle for me not to quit things: my family, my job, my community group. Each of those things have components that I'm stressed about, some more than others. I just can't... even... get out the words when I'm praying. Essentially, I've just been crying lately instead of praying--because I feel so overwhelmed. I wish I could find one but there's no formula for how to not be overwhelmed. Believe me, I would've found it by now. There is a gentle promise though: enter into His rest. I was reading in Hebrews today (4, to be exact) about the fact that only we who believe can enter into His rest. I forget to rest a lot, and then I wonder why I get so exhausted. I forget why my temper is shorter when I haven't been able to sleep fully in a long time, or even how I interact more harshly with folks when I haven't been able to unplug in a while. It's kind've crazy, this need that God built in us for rest---which he offers us on a regular basis.. I get it. Life is busy. Super busy. How are we supposed to make ourselves take a sabbath when we have allllllll this stuff we have to complete/finish/be responsible for? I'm reminded of something taught by much wiser folks than me earlier this year, as I write: Who is God in our lives? What is he doing? Who are we? What are we doing? I struggle with the order of those questions. I struggle with the placement of God in my life. I struggle with control. If I change the order in which I place those sentences, I'm essentially placing myself in the priority list above God in my life. "I can't take a sabbath, because I have too much work to do. If I don't get X, Y, and Z completed, the world is gonna fall apart. Okay, maybe not the entire world--but mine for sure." I'm bearing the weight of responsibility when I don't have to. Do you see? I could ask for help--whether in my family, or at work, or even in our community group. Personally, I'm afraid of asking for help. That's my own psychosis. Thankfully, God's been surrounding me with people who don't ask anymore but instead start pulling responsibilities from my clenched hands. I fight, and sometimes bite at them, but after I let go--I realize: "Oh! They were trying to help... And now I have a moment for rest. REAL rest." God's created that rock of safety for us--we just have to see it/ask for it. Sometimes I don't have the words though to even ask. So I ask my friends to ask (and I think that's okay--maybe my theology's off on that one, I don't know). My friends ask for rest FOR me, but they also remind me of the words that have seemed to have fallen out of my head.  "Come to me, ALL who are weary..." "YOU are the light of the world..." "Grace has been given to EACH one of us..." Words of truth are needed--even when we can't seem to think of them, or make time to read them. I'm really bad at going first to the Word for guidance. In fact, I'd probably say it's my biggest struggle these days... But I'm thankful that God has placed people in my life, who love me and go to battle for me. They pray for me and have the words when I just can't seem to form the thoughts. 

I'm thankful for my friends.. even if I don't have the words to say that too.. 

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Now more than ever you can be generous toward each day that comes, young, to disappear forever, and yet remain unaging in the mind. Every day you have less reason not to give yourself away.

"No, no there is no going back." Wendell Berry

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today was brought to you by whimsical balloons. happy Monday. I'm glad you survived the weekend.

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Chest pains and headaches

Usually at this point of the year, I'm really excited for October. On the first, I plan out the following month filled with fun times and birthday shenanigans. This year, I find myself curled up with chest pains and wishing away my birthday. I don't have time for it. There's so much I should have accomplished by now. I don't think I can slow down to celebrate another year surviving ridiculous antics and near misses. Not this year. There's too much to get done. And yet... What am I spending my time on? Why am I fretting, worrying away my day? Where is the joie de vivre? Oh goodness. Bring me back to the days of my youth. Well, some of the days. I'll pass on those awkward high school days where I was judgmental and self-conscious all at once. Nope, I need whimsy. Colorful balloons, bouncy red balls, clown noses. Who can be stressed when they are wearing a clown nose? Well, I sure can--however, I don't need to be. I'm forgetting that I'm not the one in control. That's hard--realizing that fact. I've been working with deadlines and scheduling for the last few days, having been called out publicly over the fact that I've scheduled myself at the workplace for 49.5 hours this week alone. This isn't taking into account the two hours overtime I've been staying past my scheduled times off on average. All because I'm forgetting whimsy in my life. I wonder what it looks like. I wonder how I wait for it. I wonder if I'll get it back. Today my friend pulled me from work to take a break. We walked quickly into Sephora to visit her perfume. She's been visiting it everyday for the past week, still deciding whether to buy it. While she was visiting, I strolled toward the back shelves--to the men's fragrances. A familiar square bottle with a chrome cap greeted me, and for nostalgia's sake I took a whiff. My friend came to check on me, and there I was wrapped up in old memories with faraway eyes. I debated and then handed her the bottle, taking a second to introduce her to my brother, by way of his favorite cologne. He would've been 40 on Friday. That realization rocked me. Jeff enjoyed whimsy. He enjoyed driving fast cars, jumping off of crazy cliffs, skiing barefoot on the water, and having fun. He would laugh at the crab on Little Mermaid, and would sing terrible karaoke just to make his girlfriend smile. Once again, my big brother teaches me a lesson. This is a big beautiful life, that I only have one of. Schedules and debriefings will come and go and keep coming and going. I can't control any of that. My hands aren't big enough, my shoulders aren't strong enough. I'm not God--as much as I fight for that title in my life. I've been gifted with this life, and if I don't slow down--it'll pass me by. Thanks Jeff, for the reminder. Bring on October. Bring on the whimsy.

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emotionally absent: my days as a robot

I've been gone from this--the world of social network wording. The world has kept going, the seasons have changed. The year has passed and I have remained. What a year... Oh, what a year. Somewhere in the last year, I realized that the years have passed and I am surviving. I may not be thriving all the time, but I have a community growing around me, reinforcing my weak spots and protecting my vulnerabilities. For so very long, I thought I needed to have my shit together, to earn salvation and to save those whom I loved. I had to be the strong one for my folks, I thought. My brother's death and my sister's diagnosis with MS meant that it fell to me to take care of my folks when the time came. My anxiety was rooted in that, which is probably why I have essentially crumbled and broken, because I couldn't save myself--let alone my family. My folks deserved at least one normal kid, considering everything they've dealt with. Instead, they have me--who overworks, over stresses, overthinks, over freaks. I've been distancing myself from them again, pushing those who love me further and further away. If I can just hold up the facade that I'm normal enough to fool them, maybe it'll begin to fill myself as well? I began to see things in cold metallic colors after a while. I held my family at a distance, I pushed my friends outside my barriers. I said goodbye to people who meant a lot to me, and I listened closely for identity from people who didn't mean a thing to me. I came close to self destructing again. So close. Have you ever found yourself awake right before dawn? Bundled up in a blanket, perching in a chair, listening to the birds begin to wake up in the distance. The sky, which has been so dark for so long--with rich rolling hues of night and emptiness, begins to gradually lighten. Somewhere amidst the early tweeting and song, the sky has turned to a muted dark, gradually lighting and at times still lessened from being too bright or great. For the last year, my life wasn't that deep rolling dark anymore. The darkest has passed for me, but I've been in this greyed out, muted period before the dawn. The sky is becoming brighter and brighter, and I know that at any time, I'll be in the full light of day & soon the morning sun will break. The vibrancy of the colors will streak the sky, and once again, I'll be in the light. My life isn't meant to be viewed in cold, metallic colors but in vibrant, rich hues. Fifteen years ago this week, I sat on a hill, watching a sun rise. I saw Orion peek his head along the horizon in a hemisphere he shouldn't have been. I heard a voice that I needed to hear, and received grace that I still have no way of deserving. The colors of my sky are brightening, with the vigorous shades of the community around me coming alive. I need this community, I've discovered over the last year. I'm not a robot, meant to pass through life without feeling. Being real, being vulnerable, being genuine--the colors of my sky are gaining life... and to think, all of this was reintroduced because of grace. So I'm back to this social media world for a while again. Real life beckons, but if someone else can gain perspective that life is more than just a gray scale--I'll keep posting.

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"There have been times when I think that we do not desire heaven; but more often I find myself wondering whether, in our heart of hearts, we have ever desired anything else. " CS Lewis