happy old year

Despite the fact that I'm merely 340 days behind my running daily New Years resolution from 07 for 08, I think I've figured out why the end of the year remains such a satisfying and anticipatory time for me...I get such a sense of accomplishment in surviving another year and living as best as I knew and learning so so much...another year is done...time never stops...

I never knew this to be more true than one day at work, I had just finished my shift and one of my residents passed. It was a complete shock...from left field entirely. I was heartbroken for her because we were finally making progress...and when I went into her room to say goodbye, I fought the tears back and avoided eye contact with my co-workers that were gathering to pay their respects...and as I stood at the foot of her bed, completely dumbfounded, I saw the secondhand keep trudging along in its well worn path around the face of her wristwatch. And in that split second, I was shocked and devastated. Somewhere in me there was a cry begging for time to stand still and I felt there was a crude injustice being done by the ticking of the secondhand; as if time should pause, even just for a second to pay respect to this woman, or at the very least, her own watch should know to stop when she was gone.
I'm sure you've heard the quote..."everyone dies, but not everyone truly lives"...and I can tell you, I walked out of her room that day and everyday since when one of my residents passes, appreciative of life, thankful for time and with this sense of responsibility to myself, my future and my legacy to live. To live life and take notice of the seconds. To pay attention to the pain that is created and washed away, the lives that are lost and the people that leave.

So as another year closes and another greets us with shining hope and unforeseen troubles, I am thankful for my life, for every second that has gotten me here and for every second that I will get to live in this next one...

lesson learned in 08

I realized recently that “roots” for me doesn’t necessarily mean a place anymore. It’s having a history and being able to live life with someone- these are my roots and the home for my dreams. I feel like I’m turning into a banyan tree instead of an oak…my roots grow horizontally; connecting me to the life around me, keeping me attached to the life I helped shape. And even though my roots don’t run quite as deep as others, they’re just as strong and just as beautiful.
Knowing this frees me to pursue living, buying a house, settling down…whatever the case, I’m able to do it because I know the attachment isn’t to a city or a house or stuff, it’s to the person with whom I share life.

I’m learning a lot lately.
And I like it.

judge or not to judge

when i reflect on my life and different situations, often i find that i'm waiting to be judged.
judged on what, you may ask?

judged for my heart, ideas, body shape, weight, IQ, past, future, choices, taste, dreams...who knows. but i find that i am waiting for judgment from people and what's more is that sometimes i actually care. sometimes i want to know what people think of me and why.
and i don't think it's searching for an injury, despite the inevitable bracing that occurs and the gnawing pit of anxiety that my stomach turns into...
maybe it's just part of being human. i think everyone, at some level, in spite of being confident and secure, everyone waits for that nod of acceptance from someone, the look of approval...something i guess that shows we're accepted, that we're there, that someone somehow has reached through their own pain and touched us...it's validating to be seen, to be accepted, included...
so despite knowing my worth in God's eyes and that i do have significance...there still arises the occasion where i want to know just on a human level, what people think of me...is that so wrong?

argh

i am a procrastinator. it's true. there is just no denying it.
i've always been good under pressure. it's how i operate, how i think best, how i negotiate best...is when i am up against the wall...time is running out...emotions have no place, it's just me and my wits outsmarting my opponent...


and yet, how smart can i really be when i continue to wait to the last minute to educate myself? if it was something that could be learned in an hour, i'm sure the class wouldn't be several months long, right?

lol

crappy mccrap crap

sometimes i find that i consider what others think of me more than what i think of myself.
as if somehow their treatment of me becomes the lens through which i see myself accurately.
as though my worth can be affected by them.
how preposterous.

but still, it happens.
and still, i hate it.

departing...gate 3

I’ve had quite a few departures as of late.
I’ve been rearranging priorities, turning opinions into beliefs and changing the way I see myself. I’m refusing to doubt my worth, focus on insignificant things, believe convenient lies and continue to conduct my life in a way where I make myself unhappy.
I’ve left people behind that I thought I would never be able to live without. I’ve come to terms with loneliness, walked through aloneness and recognized their distinct differences.
I’ve walked away from God and come back to find that He never let me go. I’ve wrestled with the hurt and pain caused by those who claim to love Him. I’ve watched ‘good’ people ruin each other’s lives through scandal and pride. I have looked at my own hypocrisy and marveled at my own darkness.
These are things I have known; that I have left behind. I have shaken the dust from my feet and I’m walking out of this place.

I think perhaps the significance of a departure is the impending arrival at a different place, perhaps even as a different person. There is no way to traverse this life without changing along the way; to leave one place is to arrive at another, even if the new place is just another path.

currently...

...jesus is changing me...everyday...it may seem intangible most days...but He changes me...i'm nothing more (or less) than the woman who busted in on the dinner party, completely uninvited with my alabaster and cried on Jesus' feet with gratitude and sorrow...

she is me.

i am her.

he loves me.

and so any place i currently am at, i am grateful for simply because i know that i will never be there or that person again...every moment is something to experience, every encounter with Him is life changing.

it seems i don't get it right often, but my faith is in the Author...and it's through Him that perhaps someday i will...it's not a goal so much as a promise- from Him to me...this i know....

i wonder...

have you ever seen the movie the truman show?

i feel like i’m jim carrey...living this seemingly perfect life that is just handed to him...

and then the light drops from the sky...and all of a sudden he's thrust on this quest full of rebellion, questions, self-discovery, blunders on display for the world to see and daily derision from himself and others...

and i find myself wondering...when exactly am i going to run into the sky?

and will it be the end of my story? or the beginning of the discovery of who i really am outside of this constructed reality?

i don't know...so for now, i'm staying off boats...

tragedy strikes

my heart is so heavy right now.
i wish i could help ease the pain, but i have no words, no tears, no thing that can change anything at all. words are empty, breathing is painful, grief envelopes me like strange familiarity.
i'm helpless and fragile and unable to fix the brokenness.
all i can do is pray for those he left behind...it doesn't feel like nearly enough, but my hope and faith is steadfast in the One who took him home.
you are missed.

inventing laziness

in our world where convenience is pursued at pretty much any cost, it seems like with all of our luxuries, we are only perpetuating laziness. a lot of what we used to have to fight for we're given or we've come to expect it to somehow fall into place. we've adopted the idea of 'destiny' and 'fate', almost to the point of allowing us to choose to do nothing under the idea that it will work out in the end. and i believe that it will, but it begs the question: what are we missing out on when we operate like this?
it seems like the integrity of our life experience is at stake when we plan it out and expect it to work according to our plan. we say things like, "right now just isn't a good time"...with the obvious assumption that somewhere down the road the option will be available again...but why aren't we going after experiences instead of waiting until the timing is right? life is full of unknowns. how is putting things on the 'back burner' anywhere close to carpe diem? we can't dictate the unknown and yet we continue to try.

and well, that's not for me.
i want the inconvenient, sacrificial, spontaneous, inspiring kind of life, love, legacy....

freak? definitely...

i was watching criss angel mind freak...it was late, i couldn't sleep...
he pushed a tree over in some state somewhere...and all i could think was, 'wow, you totally just uprooted a beautiful and terribly expensive living being with no regard whatsoever for the soil or root structure that it has probably taken years to create. you probably just severely damaged the surrounding trees, not to mention killed the very palm tree you picked. awesome.'
all these women are fawning over him and are basically propositioning him and it made me laugh because all i could think was, 'he could be the worst lay ever but play a mind trick and make you think it was the most awesome ever. haha.' and i laughed.
he looks like a freak. why is it that all the people who can do magic are like all 'dark and death'? and what's with the hair and the guyliner....and a lisp? i mean, seriously? please, stop. it's comical. makes him look like the son of gene simmons. not something that's on my list of life goals. just sayin.
he actually said, 'no one can stop me from accomplishing what's in my head, i'm fully committed to what i want to do.' don't get me wrong, i admire the dedication. but seriously, he's a malignant narcissist.
sad.

this one's for you

impossible

i've never wanted so much and failed so greatly at being remembered. it's absurd. i mean, really.
what stinks the most is just when i think i've made a dent in your memory, that i've made a lasting impression, the truth is i haven't and it's then that i realize that there is no room for me in your heart, mind or life...
i used to think i was impossible to forget just extremely difficult to remember, but now i'm thinking the former is no longer true. you have opened my eyes to the new reality...i am just impossible to remember, an invisible memory, the dream you wish you could remember once you've opened your eyes, but alas, i vanish....

ponder this

it seems pretty wide-spread and well-known that men want sex and women want relationships...so why are both sides continually surprised when these realities materialize?

...

and it's weird, because even seven years later i have this desire, this borderline compulsion, to explain to the people i left what happened to me, as if somehow telling them now would redeem the aloneness that i felt so deeply...but at the same time i have this fear that if anyone from there catches wind of this, they wouldn't believe me....
i know it to be true. i lived it. i struggled to face each day. i gasped for hope. i survived.

my least favorite

as a follow up to yesterday's post, i thought i'd go ahead and let yall in on my least favorite bad thing that has ever happened to me. please read with caution (and tenderness) though...
i am cautious to post this...it's not a widely-known part of my life, it's been protected for many years, for many reasons. i still haven't been able to tell my parents...don't know if ever i will...
it's one of those things that set off a course of events and undoubtedly, without it happening, i would most likely never have gone on the adventure that led me to alaska and honestly, the discovery of my heart and the true God. while these are marvelous things that i am forever grateful for discovering, it's still hard at times to look at the leaving of that place as a good thing. i'll explain...
the early parts of my life were spent growing up in georgia, we moved to florida and i remember feeling as though i didn't belong. i know most people have that period in their life where they just feel awkward and left out, overlooked, forgotten, forgettable...something, but whatever you may call it, alone is what it feels like. i left my home in florida for a school in the middle-of-nowhere, indiana and for the first time in my short life, i felt a commonality with the people i brushed my teeth next to in the morning and the people i'd stand in line with in the dining commons. there was a sense of community unlike anything i had known before. it was beautiful. i was so encouraged by the realness of those i lived with and my curiosity was piqued to push myself to become who God created me to be. i was incredibly blessed to find one of my soul mates there...he and i were two hands of a prayer, he was my best friend. we learned from each other, we learned together. we challenged each other.
i met this other guy there. well, actually i had met him a number of years prior when i went for a visit...but he was back at the school to finish his degree and we became fast friends. we hung out, went to eat, skipped class, went for walks, watched movies, went to sporting events...it was a typical kick-ass friendship that i loved. people would always comment on our visible chemistry and ask us both why we weren't together...one night after a long day of being ill, i went to his room to watch another movie and the unthinkable happened. i was at a loss.
you see, i had grown up so naive, that i assumed it was a natural part of adult relationships and although i said no, i blamed myself. i felt guilty. after he stopped coming to class, stopped coming to chapel and turned and walked the other way when he saw me on campus, i figured something was wrong. i had never seen him act weird. i found out a few short days later that he started dating a different girl. i was crushed. the one time i did have a chance to ask what had happened, he blamed me and just walked away. i was devastated. the end of the year came and i moved to colorado for the summer. i was alone, so very alone and without the ability to make it all stop hurting or at the very least, make it make sense. the fall semester started and i was determined to have fun during the year, grow, make friends, and hopefully finally move past the heartbreak of the last year.
i soon found out that something had been broken inside me and while all i was doing was ignoring it, the brokenness kept growing underneath my facade and was quickly consuming me. i didn't have the words, didn't even know that it was considered assault, to process what had happened, so i feebly went about life. i was a mess to say the least. there were many dark days and even more darker nights. i was in counseling, but couldn't tell my counselor about the event. my best friend, the guy that could breach any boundary, his touch and presence made me nauseous and i didn't know why. nothing made sense. my life, the life that i had felt so incredibly blessed to live the past year had become a living nightmare, my only recess was restless sleep and one unlikely girl friend, whom to this day, i believe God sent her specifically to me for that semester...if for nothing more than to fight the pain with laughter...
there are many things i don't remember about that last semester but these i do: i failed classes, i dyed my hair, i wore dark dark eyeliner, i stopped talking to people, i stopped trusting people, i cut myself, i dreamed of death. i remember at one really low point, there was a suicide on campus and her picture graced the cover of our newspaper. i distinctly remember looking at her picture and the hollowness in her eyes scared me. it felt like i was looking into the abyss that my life was quickly becoming and it frightened me. my dreams flittered through my mind, my hope, my once held dearly passions...and then jealousy surfaced; she had found her way out of the pain. it wasn't until a dear friend walked in on me cutting that i realized all my attempts to assuage my pain on my own were actually hurting other people; i had failed, yet again. i remember a prayer meeting that was held in our building and all i remember is standing there trying to reach out for help, crying, asking for forgiveness for being angry at the other female and literally making a fool of myself. i remember going home for christmas vacation and it was the first time i had seen my father cry for me. he asked me to come home now because if i didn't, the next time would be for my burial. i knew then my only choice was to leave the place.
i know my pain was public, but i don't think anyone cared. i mean, these people didn't know the depths of pain or darkness i had traversed. they didn't know what happened. they just saw it as a relationship that ended. no one knew. i was alone once again.
it's been seven years now since the event...and it's still difficult when all is considered- the friendships that were lost, the people that i don't talk to, my exit from that place as the 'crazy person', the humiliation and shame i went through...it's still difficult at times to see the good. and i don't know if i'll ever be able to see it entirely on this side of eternity...but i am who i am partly because of it. i am strong. i was broken. i was robbed of my innocence. i know the inside of that trench and my story has helped others around me. i am sensitive. i am empathetic. i am courageous. i was wounded, not only by him, but by the disappearance of those whom i loved. i was wounded, but Time has healed me and soon, maybe it will look like the rest of my scars...

my most favorite

i know bad things happen to everyone and it seems like a good portion of the time, the bad things have these really valuable lessons intrinsically woven in them...for me, i've been able to pinpoint my most favorite bad thing and my least favorite bad thing that have happened to me over the years.
this one is by far, my most favorite. which is good, because it contains my most favorite quote as well...
it has to do with a guy...we had been friends, i wanted more, he didn't, we existed. we were close. really close. and then he changed his mind and wanted more. i was floored. it was everything and more than i could have wanted. i had no idea he had felt like this for so long. i felt like life was finally falling into place. love was most definitely in the air. i was no longer holding out hope, i was living its reality! and then he changed his mind again but this time, it was not so good. he wanted out. he got scared. he didn't know why he said all those things. i felt trapped. i couldn't breathe. here was this guy that i have loved. we have been through real life together, i mean hard things and beautiful things. he was my best friend. and here he was breaking my heart in front of me, tearing it to shreds with his words and yet, as if to try and put salve on an open wound, was asking me to remain his friend because he values me so much and can't imagine life without me. the salve may as well have been salt. i said to him my favorite quote, "i can't put my heart back in a box that was too small for it to begin with." and with that, i severed all ties. i lost my best friend, my (what i thought at the time) chance at love, my social circle, my idealism...but it was after having my insides ripped out and everything i held onto for life die off that i was forced to realize another way to live. i had to recreate myself and am now reaping the benefits of that reconstruction. never would i wish the pain i had felt on anyone, but for me, it was a new beginning...and i'm actually grateful, because i know now what i don't want and sometimes that's half the battle...

answers

why are they so important on a day-to-day basis? and why does it seem so hard for some people to give them?
i learned many moons ago that i'm not always going to get what i want or what i ask for, but i've also learned that many times, all i'm asking for is just an answer. it doesn't have to be good or bad or in between...just stand up and answer the question asked.
i'm really okay either way the chips may fall, but your silence is deafening...

the letter unsent

so you say you want to live life running through the crashing waves, absorbing and experiencing all that life has to offer...why are you standing on the shore trying to dictate which wave should come first? i think that's part of the beauty in life...to be able to take each wave as it comes, whenever it does (which is most likely out of our preferred order) and experience it, revel in it, live it...
i'm not trying to make it sound like you're not living life...you just have this thing about trying to control the order of your life, and i hear such frustration in your voice when it doesn't happen the way or as soon as you want it, and it seems like you take these drastic measures in order to reconfigure because you think that somehow reorganizing your life will make it happen in your own time. and it seems like you take it as failure when it doesn't come about.
what if what you want right now isn't supposed to happen til you've walked through another door? and what if you're waiting to walking through that door til the first thing happens? you'll never get there if you don't start taking a few steps with what you already know...

Life

Love has taught me to
Hope but not believe
Give and not receive.
Try but always fail
Treasure and never bail
On those brought into my life.
I don't understand,
Stopped trying to explain.
Wondering if you're real.
I see you in action;
From my heart to others.

I wonder if it's possible to love
Yet never be loved in return?

the truth

So as an adult female, finding out that not all firemen are blazing hot is reminiscent of when I was a wee child and I found out there really wasn't a Santa Claus. Terrible disappointment, deep in my soul.
And for you men, when women have sleep overs, it's not all pillow fights in our undies.

Just so we're all on the same playing field of disillusionment...you're welcome for the blowing the lid off that...

:]

Meet & Greet = Crash & Burn

I think the two have never been more closely related than when you're single. Why is it that 'singleness' is looked at as a bad thing? Why am I looked down on by others when they find out I'm single? I think it's interesting to note since I have yet to find an answer.
When I meet that person, I have a feeling, a very strong feeling, that it will be more organic than a fix-up. It has to be, right? Or is that just the romantic in me? I don't know. I need to have something more in common with them than the fact that we are both single and we both know this one person who thinks we'd be perfect together. I have this idea that fate plays a role in who I end up with. And I'd like to think that 'fate' isn't a person. I'd like to think that at the right time, with the right person, when I am who I am supposed to be, it will happen and I tend to shy away from the idea that it can be orchestrated by humans with their stupid agendas. Besides the fact that I'm horrible on blind dates and can't stand the social pressure associated with dating, I generally despise being set up with someone- romantically or otherwise.
Since love is too much, too divine to be designed by humans, I refuse to believe that it can be set up, even by the most well-meaning person on earth. Plus, the most beautiful things in me and about me are the very things that are inherent to whom I was created to be, they are my essence and simply cannot be contrived. So how could love be any different?

PFD

My personal flotation device in this sea called life is summed up in one word: hope.
I hope against hope that things will turn out alright. I hope for the best but find myself often preparing for the worst. Is this how life is supposed to be- Staring at the silver lining but carrying an umbrella just in case it should rain?
I don't want any surprises to discourage my course or put out the desire in me to live. I don't want to be blindsided by misfortune. I want to feel prepared or at the very least, that I am capable of getting through whatever may come my way. But how are we supposed to roll with the punches when the punches knock the breath out of us?
How am I supposed to plan for a future with someone knowing they could wake up in 30 years, hate me and want out? How are we supposed to live in freedom when there is so much to be afraid of? Do we just go blindly through life, falling in whatever potholes happen to be in my path, losing whatever falls off or goes away?
I guess my question is: how are we to go through life, hoping for a good future, doing our best to get there with the realization that it could all be gone tomorrow?
Is hoping for the best really all that keeps us afloat when the storms come?

Proud & Alone

When it comes to my situation, I have these two tendencies grating together and they happen to be grating on my last nerve.
One is the tendency to dream and hope for something, get an idea about what it should look like and become disillusioned when things inevitably go to pot. The other is simply to take things as they come- open hands, open heart.
And it's when these two collide that I find myself confused and a little bewildered. I feel like I have the right to expect and get more than what I'm getting, but then wonder why I can't just be content with the way things are.
So which is the right answer?
Oddly, I feel the same contradictory emotions either route I take- the first tendency, I feel proud because I stood up for myself and my needs but alone because no one rose to the occasion. And with the second, I feel proud because I just 'go with the flow' and alone because it doesn't even come close to what I've wanted for myself.
So, tell me, which do I do? And how can I be happy with my decision once it's made?


Well, I figured it out-
I'd rather stand up for myself and deal with being by myself than be with someone and be unfulfilled. That wasn't so hard after all! Ha! :]

LOL

who can pass on a good laugh? it's like not cashing a check you have in your hand, when you're standing at bank...read this and you'll laugh...it's that good....

i'm still laughing.

still.

haunted

i hate how the creative engine can so quickly turn into your worst enemy when things don't go as hoped for...
the thoughts haunt, plague and yes, even perpetuate the sheer terror of your worst nightmares when all it would take is a voice, one simple voice that would silence the taunting...
is that too hard to ask?

so wrong

have you ever typed something and after it was finished, it just looked and sounded stupid, so you watch the blinking line travel to the left as you hold down the backspace button...wondering the whole time what went wrong because you swear it sounded so much better in your head...yeah, that's what happened here and this is all you get....

bah bah bah

I normally kid around with people and tell them that I'm the 'black sheep' of the family. I'm the one who rebels in thought, behavior, personality, language, tastes, and what I consider socially acceptable and beautiful. I push the limits, what can I say? While these things remain to be true, which I tend to attribute to my bohemian outlook on life, I've come to the conclusion that we are all 'black sheep' in life.
I'll say it again: we are all black sheep. Wanting so much to be without blemishes and all too often over-looking our blemishes, discounting them, and hiding them, we pretend to be something we aren't all in hopes of pleasing others, so we seem 'normal' and unstained. It's horribly ironic- each one of us is blemished and everyone knows what it's like to pretend we aren't blemished. Each one of us can remember a time when we felt like all we were doing was hiding who we were from those around us. What a fearful way to live, always suspicious and wondering if today was the day that the others will find out how truly different I am and how horrible those differences are.
So I find comfort now, knowing that even as I (albeit rarely) find myself trying to blend in and fly below the radar, that we as humans are nothing more and nothing less than the proverbial black sheep, the odd ones out.

We are all blemished, we are all trying to blend in, we are all standing out, on our own, hoping that someone will appreciate us for our blackness, our differences, if for nothing more. This hulking monstrosity of a burden is suddenly lightened by the realization that I'm not alone and in life we are all blemished and bleating, praying we don't stand out.

intrigue, maybe

5 things about me I want you to know:

1. If I’m up at 330am, I love watching reruns of ‘Mad About You’. They make me want to marry my best friend even more than I already want to.
2. I can handle, and in fact love watching surgeries and births, but touching raw meat makes me want to vomit.
3. Completing the Ironman is one of my life goals.
4. I want to build my own house.
5. I’m writing a book.

This list was originally 10 things long, but I wanted to keep an air of mystery about myself, so I cut it down to 5…yeah, that’s right. That just happened.

LOL

Humor is one of those awesome things that I'm convinced people need more of in their life. Without humor, life is rendered useless. I'm blessed to have many people in my life who make me laugh, truly laugh...you know, make your face hurt from smiling so much, sides ache, gasping for breath kind of laughter.
The funny thing is, especially for someone such as myself who thoroughly enjoys being understood, if you explain a joke it's ruined. I think it's the best way to be unfunny...just break it down for your audience and all of a sudden, it's no longer funny. I mean it may be ironic, but no longer LOL funny. Love it.
Moral is: laugh. Just laugh. You'll feel better, your friend who told the story/joke will feel fulfilled and your overall health will improve the more often you laugh. Plus, much like learning a language, your aptitude for understanding jokes and the humor in life will increase the more you practice laughing.
So start today and by the end of the week, you'll be laughing your ass off.

My Beauty is...Me

It's the tears in my eyes
With a smile on my lips,
The sound of my voice
The feel of my kiss.

It's the curl of my hair
The fire in my eyes
The laugh in my voice
The want to be wise.

It's the grace in my hands
The drive in my step
The touch of my skin
The lack of regret.

It's the strength of my will
The words on my lips
The joy in my smile
The sway in my hips.

It's in my scars,
Is seen through my tears
It's in my successes
And even my fears.

It's the beat of my heart
The strength of my back
The shape of my chest
And all that I lack.

It's the peace in my soul
The power of conviction
My hope and my dreams
My love is in action.

My beauty is hidden in plain sight for all to see. If for nothing more than my ability to appreciate beauty that is found in the day-to-day things...the shape of a bowl, the shadow through a window, a child laughing, a couple embracing, the joy of friends, the heartache of loss, the shape of a tree, the power in the wind...it is in me and in these things that beauty is common but uncommonly recognized.
My beauty has always been more hidden than I would ever have wanted. It takes a trained eye and patience to find...but it takes the diligence of a good heart to hold onto it when it's found. It's fleeting and shy, unknown and hidden in the common.
I am a daisy in the field of wildflowers, beautiful for its simplicity and rawness...
content to just be.

meaning...?

Ever say a word so many times it doesn't even sound like the word you meant to say? It just turns to mush in your mouth and although you know you mean to say it, you begin to doubt even yourself. Well, anyhow, I was having a conversation the other night over coffee with this guy, we'll call him the singing plantain...about meaning and he believes that life experiences only have meaning if we give it meaning. I begged to differ and the conversation that ensued after finding out we disagreed involved the over-use of the word 'meaning'...and well, it was pretty soon that the word lost it's meaning and didn't even sound real anymore.
I guess it was a new twist on the old adage- "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around, does it make any noise?" We both agreed that yes, it would. He then pointed out that it would mean different things to different people- the capitalist would see it as a gain, the environmentalist would grieve it, the naturalist would see it as a natural occurrence and on and on...my question is then, does it matter? The fact that an event happens should show that it's significant, right?
My personal opinion is that meaning isn't measured by the reaction or emotion it evokes from us, I think the meaning can be seen simply because we acknowledge the event. The recognition of something already bestows significance; the emotion it evokes, if any, is the icing.

blitz!

Sorry for the blog blitz...these thoughts have been in my head for too long already and I just knew that if I didn't get them out and down on the keys, I'd get backed up again...I hate that mentally constipated feeling that comes when you don't empty the thoughts that run loops in your brain...trivial or monumental- it's just the same.
It's clearing my brain, getting rid of the endless and at times compulsive thoughts and questions that bounce around in my head...I'm looking forward to the day when my brain is completely empty. :]

about me...

I've decided to test my emotional intelligence...trying to figure out what it is that people see me as...this is what I've come up with so far...
I am: stubbornly yielding, emotionally even-keeled and passionate, generous to a fault, a false extrovert, a grammarian, confidently insecure, courageous, adventurous, a risk-taker, witty but often the only one laughing, selfish but empathetic and compassionate, a wide-awake dreamer, an old soul with a youthful heart, a hopeful romantic tinged with cynicism, misunderstood, easily overlooked and hard to remember but unforgettable, spontaneous but also a planner, a lyricist who doesn't know what to say, far above rubies (sorry if your name is Ruby, not talking about you), inviting, creative, ADD plagued with CFS, kindhearted, lovely, fabulous, real and unknown.

Basically, I'm a living contradiction...does everyone have these two opposing sides to them?

admission

I'm a list maker. I love lists. Even if I don't accomplish everything on them, for some unknown reason, I love to make lists. I make lists about making lists. I rewrite lists, organize them, put them in the sequence of which they should be completed and carry them around. I have security with my lists. It's like "the list" has this power of making things happen...I mean, if it's not on the list, it won't happen! (well, in my case even if it does make the list, there is a high chance it might get transferred to another list because it didn't get accomplished...)

50 cent

it's a metaphor for change.
I think that is indisputably my favorite line from the artist known as 50 cent. Brilliant man, he is.
Anyhow...
Change.
Most days I love it. In fact, I think I actually crave it. Or maybe it's just the idea of it I crave. I never really can form a firm opinion on this matter. But no matter my opinion, it happens. Sometimes it feels drastic and overnight, other times it is so gradual that I can't even see a difference a month down the road.
I look around me, at others' that are changing, I can see it in them, but hardly notice it in me. I ask the same questions, want the same things and am still looking for the same answers as I was years ago. That being said, however, I can decidedly say that I'm not the same person I was back then.
Sometimes I feel like the earth, struggling to change, freezing overnight, melting during the day, just wanting the 'transition' period to be finished and finally thrust into the new place, the new season, the next step, tomorrow.
Basically, where I am is wanting a new set of problems...ones that even if they're the same maybe just look different...I don't know...maybe I'll just squint my eyes for now...

blinded...

Why does it take someone leaving for us to realize they're what we want? Why can't we see it when it's right in front of us, plain as day and take it then? Why do we wait til someone's funeral to celebrate them publicly and recount the memories? Why is it that once someone is gone, we can only remember the good times- and even the bad times are seen as positives?
Is it a case of we don't know what we want? The grass is always greener? Are we just unaware of those around us?

What is it in us that creates this blindspot to the beauty and love that is around us? Why do we take it for granted, only to realize once it's gone, how good it actually was? Is it just easier to get stuck on the impossibilities that so often cloud our vision, that they ultimately block out the infinite possibilities that each situation creates?

Where is your blindspot? And what is keeping you from seeing past it?

forgetfulness

Why is it so easy to overlook the fact that we are so dearly loved by the God of the universe, the Champion of our hearts, the Creator Himself has taken a personal interest in our lives, in my heart, in my dreams...so why is it so stinking easy to forget that and live my life in such a way that questions His devotion?
Why is my stubbornness so stubborn? Why is my heart so heavy? What am I doing in my life?

Is it fear? Lack of faith? Mistrust? Hurt?

Why do I live my life like I’m continuously questioning HIS devotion to me? HE is the jilted lover. HE is the One I’ve repeatedly cheated on. HE is the One that comes after me.

Why can’t I just accept that? I’m thrilled at the thought of it, but when reality sets in, I just forget.

I don’t want to forget.

argghhhh...and not in the piraty sense

I throw pottery.
I mean, I make it on a wheel...the process, it's called 'throwing'...just in case you started wondering if all of a sudden I became a weirdo and just threw clay objects to make them break...
I grew up cooking and baking with my mom, mum, aunts....my sister and I would mix water, flour and sugar and then put food coloring in it, just to be cool, and my mom (bless her soul) would let us do this day in and day out, ultimately leading to the complete and utter demise of her entire tupperware collection- who knew you had to clean it out before it hardened?!
I tell that lovely anecdote to correlate my pottery to baking and eventually to my life- stick with me!...when I first started out with clay, I treated it a lot like baking- except it was in two steps and way hotter than our oven at home could ever get. You make the piece you want, you put it in the kiln, take it out, let it cool and then you glaze it.
First, I never really could grasp the reality of the piece shrinking the first time in the kiln- I either made the pieces extremely large and they didn't shrink to the size I wanted- like my mom's 'cereal bowl' she uses to serve salad...for 20...or I made it the size I wanted and it would turn out to be perfect for a doll house- I just never could understand it. Second, when it comes to glazing...I thought if I left enough room at the bottom, the heat would 'melt' the glaze and it would run down to cover up the thumb prints or other smudges, but no, to my disappointment, it didn't run together, in fact it didn't even move. Pity.
I pictured my pieces to turn out so much more beautiful than what they ended up looking like. And it wasn't the kiln's fault or even the glaze or the clay...nope, the responsibility of the multiple travesties I produced rested squarely on my hands, as it were. Don't get me wrong, I'm not completely inept when it comes to clay and a wheel and glaze, but I had my fair share of pieces I hid so the rest of the class didn't laugh at me.
And that is like my life. Nice segue, eh? :]
It's like my life because when I look at it, I picture all these fabulous things: long life, gray hair and lots of wrinkles, true love, a whole load of kids, a strong and kickin marriage, a sex life- a good sex life, a house with a porch and animals, lots of noise, exhaustion at the end of a day, endless frustrations and debt. And I want it. I want it all- the bad, the good, the ugly, the pretty, the not-so-pretty, the painful and the painless...I want all that life has to hold. But then when I take an honest look at the current choices I make and how I conduct myself- the end result really isn't what I picture. It's like how I used to treat those early pieces- putting them in the kiln despite the marring, hoping that somehow the heat would work its magic, much like the oven does with chocolate chips in cookies- and the end product would be this beautiful, marketable and highly enviable piece that I created.
My current choices don't reflect the end result I want...I don't know why I continue to exist in this place of dreaming about the future but somehow refusing to take the steps to get there.
Eventually, I didn't get it perfect, but I got a lot better at determining the end size, shape, color and overall presence of the piece. And to be quite honest, I love some of my pottery- it's a life-size example of how God sees me. I know the sweat, tears and dreams I put into the pieces- they didn't just happen on accident, I actually worked to get them to look like that- and that realization makes me feel loved by Him.
I still have to wonder though- will I get it right? Not perfect...but will I get it right, where I start heading toward what I dream about? Will I ever take the steps? Or is it just about where I'm headed and not really so much where I am right now? Is today the day I wake up and decide only good things? Argh, the questions- they're endless....
Oh, and the baking...it got much better...I figured out using more than flour, water and sugar makes things A LOT tastier...just in case you were wondering. :]

perfection

I don’t believe in perfection…even the smooth stone at the end of the river, the one that is perfect, shiny and makes all the other stones jealous was only smoothed because the rushing water pushed it down the river, both forcing it into and dislodging it from crevices and dragged it along the bottom. It’s smoothness is not because it was perfect at the beginning, the middle or even close to the end…it’s smooth because it was beat up along the way…and it’s smoothness at the end is its perfection completed. I have a feeling my life can be characterized like that. Not always in step with standards, sinful, full of grace, off-beat, love struck, stuck in ruts, forced out of my comfort zone…I can only hope that my God, the One Who created the river and the rock will smooth me to perfection. And I love that though the river and the path of the rock seem random at best, I know in my core, that my God is intentional. And even though I strike out on my own, I know that He has me. He loves me.

the line

Where do we draw it? How are we defined by it? How do we deal with it? How do we not judge people determined by which side of the line they are currently on? And finally, how long do they have to be on this side of the line before we stop judging them for previous behaviors that occurred on that side of the line?

God says that His mercies are new each day. That His grace and love are infinitely more than we can ask, know or even comprehend.

So is it possible to make a judgment about someone? Is it fair?

I know I can judge if someone is safe for me in different capacities and I feel responsible so as to not give myself away to people that aren’t worth it. But even saying that, I feel like I’m making a judgment that although has been made against me, I shouldn’t be making since I don’t know them and don’t know what God is doing in them. I can understand character problems creating issues, and I can understand seeing a pattern in someone that is destructive.

But in the end, does it really even matter? We are all fallen, so shouldn't we all be untrustworthy? Are any of us worth investing in (by human standards)? So do we write off everyone and hide in our little life or do we accept everyone- dangerous or docile- and just live the way we know how?

I mean honestly, what can man do to me...?