I wanted to share with you the relevance of the metaphors of the light at the end of the tunnel, the rainbow after the rain, etc.
Fall is here. And by fall I pretty much mean rain and grey, which will be here for the next 6 months.
As the rain begins to fall, and the sun tries in vain to poke a ray through the clouds, I try to keep myself busy. Having survived last year, I remind myself of the many tactics I used to get through the exceptionally long rainy season. The cold, the puddles, the grey skies are descending ominously.
Last night, despite a concerted effort to remain occupied, I found myself deeply discouraged, and I eagerly awaited Reid's arrival home from work. Whenever his strong arms envelop me at the door, I am inevitably flooded with peace. Last night we proceeded to the couch, where we stayed wrapped up in each other and fell into conversation about the impending winter. I buried my face in Reid's neck and...complained. He is my happy place, my safe place, my everything. Slowly, the greyness of the day melted into warmer colors.
"This is our last winter in Washington," Reid reminded me.
When the sunlight begins to shine again next year, our bright future will be rising with it. Reid will be sailing the boat up here, and our dreams will become reality. Our time and our lives will be our own, the world at our fingertips. We're already so blissfully happy together, I can't even begin to imagine how much more wonderful our life will be in that next part of our adventure.
The darkness before the dawn is upon us.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Rainfall
I wrote this blog entry a month ago, but I've been neglecting this blog and my writing in general. I regret making excuses, because many moments would be better recorded IN the moment. I haven't written anything since May. I didn't write about the wedding, or our 1 year anniversary, or about any of the revelations of my heart. I thought about writing lots of different things down, but talked myself into their irrelevance. Oh, the life of the creative mind, tortured with fears of insignificance. :)
Its been a dreary day today, though lately its been sunny in Washington, which has been so very nice. But today the sun couldn't get out from behind the clouds.
I had big plans for my day off: sip peppermint sun tea, start the wedding scrapbook, and rediscover my inner calm, of course.
Well, needless to say, I only got as far as the peppermint tea in that plan. The prints were going to be much more expensive than I'd thought, which negated the third item on the day planner.
Which then begs the question: how can my inner peace be messed with so easily? I apologize for the flower child language. But as fair warning, I'm about to start sounding even more like a hippie.
I have had many enjoyable things planned to do to keep myself busy. In face I probably spend more time making lists of things to do than doing them. Some are small, and some are larger projects. Most of the time, though, I have the hardest time actually doing any of them, and the thing that sounds most appealing to do is to curl up in a ball and watch a funny movie.
Anyhow, one of the many things on one of the lists I've made was to pick lavender to make lavender sachets with. I walked to the end of the road to pick lavender, and as I was bending down to pick the last few stems for my handful of stems, I heard something. It took me a moment to realize it was the rain that had just started to fall. It was hitting the leaves of the plants. Then I felt the drops. I couldn't believe I could hear the rain. When was the last time you heard something that quiet?
I had to smile. And I had to write about it. I ran back to the house to grab my notebook to write down what it is like to hear rain falling. By the time I got to the house, I could hear it on the rooftops.
I can't remember why I thought it was so important to write down that moment. The past few months hold some of the most beautiful memories of my life so far. How easy it is to get bogged down by the details, and how wonderful it is to be reminded of what's important by listening to drops of rain.
Its been a dreary day today, though lately its been sunny in Washington, which has been so very nice. But today the sun couldn't get out from behind the clouds.
I had big plans for my day off: sip peppermint sun tea, start the wedding scrapbook, and rediscover my inner calm, of course.
Well, needless to say, I only got as far as the peppermint tea in that plan. The prints were going to be much more expensive than I'd thought, which negated the third item on the day planner.
Which then begs the question: how can my inner peace be messed with so easily? I apologize for the flower child language. But as fair warning, I'm about to start sounding even more like a hippie.
I have had many enjoyable things planned to do to keep myself busy. In face I probably spend more time making lists of things to do than doing them. Some are small, and some are larger projects. Most of the time, though, I have the hardest time actually doing any of them, and the thing that sounds most appealing to do is to curl up in a ball and watch a funny movie.
Anyhow, one of the many things on one of the lists I've made was to pick lavender to make lavender sachets with. I walked to the end of the road to pick lavender, and as I was bending down to pick the last few stems for my handful of stems, I heard something. It took me a moment to realize it was the rain that had just started to fall. It was hitting the leaves of the plants. Then I felt the drops. I couldn't believe I could hear the rain. When was the last time you heard something that quiet?
I had to smile. And I had to write about it. I ran back to the house to grab my notebook to write down what it is like to hear rain falling. By the time I got to the house, I could hear it on the rooftops.
I can't remember why I thought it was so important to write down that moment. The past few months hold some of the most beautiful memories of my life so far. How easy it is to get bogged down by the details, and how wonderful it is to be reminded of what's important by listening to drops of rain.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Deja Vu and New Lessons
Seems to be that life is a cycle, that runs over and over again. The past few weeks feel like a huge deja vu. Moral of the past month is, I don't need to lose my faith in EVERYONE, only in the people who have proven they are unworthy of my trust. Its ok to distance myself from the people who have continuously disappointed me and the people who demonstrate their lack of integrity. It seems I have just as much of a hard time admitting others have faults as I do admitting my own. Now, how to confront the necessary people about all of it? ...to be blogged about at a later date.
On a separate but related in the context of admitting my faults note, its funny (yet again) how you can have issues you torture yourself over internally that you didn't even realize were completely out of whack! Things from my childhood have embedded themselves so deep in my psyche that I am still discovering new issues all the time.
For the past week I've been so exhausted after work I haven't had the energy to do anything around the house. Dishes in the sink taunted me, the growing pile of laundry screamed at me every time I walked by. All I could do was sit on the couch, spent, and list over and over again in my head all the things I should be getting done. I apologized profusely to Reid for the messiness and laziness. He was confused. "You always do all this stuff, its about time I do some work around here, too." I came to a new understanding of what a marriage ought to be.
"Wives, be submissive to your husbands" was branded into my brain. Do the housework and chores, cook and clean. It was easy to accept that that was my job, Reid being the primary breadwinner of our little family. That's the home environment I was raised in. But the entire verse in the bible is not just about a woman's place. There is quite a bit of responsibility placed on the man as well. Submissiveness, in the context of the verse, means to trust that God will give your husband the wisdom to make the best decisions for our family. That is his role. I have that confidence in Reid. His doing housework, to me, was an extra way to spoil me and show his love for me. But all the while, to Reid, he was just doing what he ought to be doing, not doing something to make me feel even more indebted to him.
This is the man I married. I learn from him every day. I am blessed.
On a separate but related in the context of admitting my faults note, its funny (yet again) how you can have issues you torture yourself over internally that you didn't even realize were completely out of whack! Things from my childhood have embedded themselves so deep in my psyche that I am still discovering new issues all the time.
For the past week I've been so exhausted after work I haven't had the energy to do anything around the house. Dishes in the sink taunted me, the growing pile of laundry screamed at me every time I walked by. All I could do was sit on the couch, spent, and list over and over again in my head all the things I should be getting done. I apologized profusely to Reid for the messiness and laziness. He was confused. "You always do all this stuff, its about time I do some work around here, too." I came to a new understanding of what a marriage ought to be.
"Wives, be submissive to your husbands" was branded into my brain. Do the housework and chores, cook and clean. It was easy to accept that that was my job, Reid being the primary breadwinner of our little family. That's the home environment I was raised in. But the entire verse in the bible is not just about a woman's place. There is quite a bit of responsibility placed on the man as well. Submissiveness, in the context of the verse, means to trust that God will give your husband the wisdom to make the best decisions for our family. That is his role. I have that confidence in Reid. His doing housework, to me, was an extra way to spoil me and show his love for me. But all the while, to Reid, he was just doing what he ought to be doing, not doing something to make me feel even more indebted to him.
This is the man I married. I learn from him every day. I am blessed.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Only a Cock-Eyed Optimist
The theme in my life lately seems to be one of disappointment in other people. For a long time in my life I thought the worst of everyone around me, and I was miserable, so I decided to go Pollyanna status and "look for the good in people".
One of my favorite books, To Kill a Mockingbird, has a line that says "people generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for." I'm a firm believer that what you put out into the universe is what you get back and that the company you keep dictates a lot about your character. I've been grappling lately with negativity and becoming involved in childish drama. Sounds silly as I write this, but I believed that if you focus on the good you can find in everyone that no harm would come to you in your relationships.
But between our house being broken into, quite possibly by someone who knows us, the he-said she-said chaos of my workplace, family members making selfish, judgmental decisions regarding our wedding, and watching a close friend's blossoming marriage disintegrate, I feel so desolate. Is it that some people just aren't good people? I find the thought much more comforting that everyone is good at heart and that we all make poor decisions sometimes. But then, how would we account for the ones who seem to be evil incarnate? The atrocities people like Hitler are capable of...yet surely no one could claim that Hitler was 100% pure evil. His charisma and leadership abilities made him incredibly successful, except that his goal was twisted. With this logic, doesn't it make sense that everything comes from good and then we get led astray?
I was among good people at home in California, so many beautiful, genuine souls. And so many they are hard to count! Who could be so blessed? There, it wasn't hard to believe. But now here, amid all of this, I am dismayed. Do I maintain my enthusiastic belief in the goodness of man, or do I get my head out of the clouds and become more realistic?
If this is reality and it is more intelligent to accept this, then I would choose to remain ignorant. To love or have relationships, you must believe that everyone is good at heart, else you will be keeping one eye over your shoulder in every aspect of life. I suppose I have really lost trust in others, both physically and emotionally.
Signed,
Several notches down from a cock-eyed optimist :(
One of my favorite books, To Kill a Mockingbird, has a line that says "people generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for." I'm a firm believer that what you put out into the universe is what you get back and that the company you keep dictates a lot about your character. I've been grappling lately with negativity and becoming involved in childish drama. Sounds silly as I write this, but I believed that if you focus on the good you can find in everyone that no harm would come to you in your relationships.
But between our house being broken into, quite possibly by someone who knows us, the he-said she-said chaos of my workplace, family members making selfish, judgmental decisions regarding our wedding, and watching a close friend's blossoming marriage disintegrate, I feel so desolate. Is it that some people just aren't good people? I find the thought much more comforting that everyone is good at heart and that we all make poor decisions sometimes. But then, how would we account for the ones who seem to be evil incarnate? The atrocities people like Hitler are capable of...yet surely no one could claim that Hitler was 100% pure evil. His charisma and leadership abilities made him incredibly successful, except that his goal was twisted. With this logic, doesn't it make sense that everything comes from good and then we get led astray?
I was among good people at home in California, so many beautiful, genuine souls. And so many they are hard to count! Who could be so blessed? There, it wasn't hard to believe. But now here, amid all of this, I am dismayed. Do I maintain my enthusiastic belief in the goodness of man, or do I get my head out of the clouds and become more realistic?
If this is reality and it is more intelligent to accept this, then I would choose to remain ignorant. To love or have relationships, you must believe that everyone is good at heart, else you will be keeping one eye over your shoulder in every aspect of life. I suppose I have really lost trust in others, both physically and emotionally.
Signed,
Several notches down from a cock-eyed optimist :(
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Lifestyle
Reid and I have been watching multiple documentaries on obesity problems in the US, how to eat healthy to avoid chronic disease and prescription medication, and how to get the most bang for your buck nutritionally out of fruits and veggies. While I was growing up, my mother was a health food nut, and I learned almost everything there is to know about eating organic, eating raw, eating vegan, vitamins, supplements, and staying away from processed food and refined sugar. That being said, Burger King and Sour Patch Kids just tasted better, so I ignored that storage of memory until recently.
Reid and I have adopted a sort of "caveman" diet, ie, if a caveman couldn't get it or prepare it, don't eat it. Essentially, we eat fruits, vegetables, tons of salad, raw nuts, and a variety of meat and seafood, with a sprinkling of dairy and whole grains. Sounds gross, but I've found dozens of recipes with these ingredients. We eat like kings! There is nothing more rewarding than listening to Reid "mmmmmm" over butternut squash soup, pesto chicken pitas, etc. We cook delicious meals!
My mother battled with my father every day about eating healthy. Dad was a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy; we snuck away whenever we could to eat out or get dessert. But Reid and I are equally motivated to make this lifestyle change a habit. We both feel better, have more energy, and sleep better! Just one cheat meal now, and we can feel the difference, especially when we exercise.
What's just as exciting as eating healthy is the knowledge behind it all: America is a fast-paced, convenience-oriented society, which has contributed to our craze of drive-through fast food, energy drinks, and the like. I won't lie; Taco Bell sounds so good sometimes, and my mouth waters every time I walk past the Sweet'n'Spicy Doritos at the grocery store. Did you know that there are enough preservatives in a bag of Doritos to mummify a small dog? Yeah.
Just wanted to share our latest endeavors toward a healthier, longer, happier life with you!
Reid and I have adopted a sort of "caveman" diet, ie, if a caveman couldn't get it or prepare it, don't eat it. Essentially, we eat fruits, vegetables, tons of salad, raw nuts, and a variety of meat and seafood, with a sprinkling of dairy and whole grains. Sounds gross, but I've found dozens of recipes with these ingredients. We eat like kings! There is nothing more rewarding than listening to Reid "mmmmmm" over butternut squash soup, pesto chicken pitas, etc. We cook delicious meals!
My mother battled with my father every day about eating healthy. Dad was a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy; we snuck away whenever we could to eat out or get dessert. But Reid and I are equally motivated to make this lifestyle change a habit. We both feel better, have more energy, and sleep better! Just one cheat meal now, and we can feel the difference, especially when we exercise.
What's just as exciting as eating healthy is the knowledge behind it all: America is a fast-paced, convenience-oriented society, which has contributed to our craze of drive-through fast food, energy drinks, and the like. I won't lie; Taco Bell sounds so good sometimes, and my mouth waters every time I walk past the Sweet'n'Spicy Doritos at the grocery store. Did you know that there are enough preservatives in a bag of Doritos to mummify a small dog? Yeah.
Just wanted to share our latest endeavors toward a healthier, longer, happier life with you!
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Sunshine
I didn't appreciate the sun enough in California. I was aware that the balmy weather was nicer than other places I'd lived, and I tried to take advantage of it. But I think now that you can never fully appreciate something until you've had to be without it. This cliche can go hand in hand with another in reference to the lack of sunshine in Washington: its always darkest before the dawn.
The sun didn't shine for over two weeks. It was bone chillingly cold and wet and windy. every day brought more clouds and rain or snow. I'd vowed not to let the Washington weather affect my mood when we moved here, but Reid and I were almost at the breaking point, snuggling together for warmth to avoid a catastrophic electric bill and dreadfully pale.
The this morning I awoke to birds singing and sun in the sky. And not just a few minutes of sunshine before the clouds took over again, but not-a-cloud-in0the-sky SUNSHINE! Needless to say, Reid and I immediately stripped off our clothes and laid sprawled out on our lawn, soaking up every ounce possible. We laughed at the kitties frolicking in the grass, Hope rolling back and forth, back and forth, and Pippin jumping high into the air trying to catch bugs.
Our spirits are revived. Spring is on its way. I love sunshine.
The sun didn't shine for over two weeks. It was bone chillingly cold and wet and windy. every day brought more clouds and rain or snow. I'd vowed not to let the Washington weather affect my mood when we moved here, but Reid and I were almost at the breaking point, snuggling together for warmth to avoid a catastrophic electric bill and dreadfully pale.
The this morning I awoke to birds singing and sun in the sky. And not just a few minutes of sunshine before the clouds took over again, but not-a-cloud-in0the-sky SUNSHINE! Needless to say, Reid and I immediately stripped off our clothes and laid sprawled out on our lawn, soaking up every ounce possible. We laughed at the kitties frolicking in the grass, Hope rolling back and forth, back and forth, and Pippin jumping high into the air trying to catch bugs.
Our spirits are revived. Spring is on its way. I love sunshine.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Just A Rant
I must rant, for just a few minutes.
Lately, an old wound has been reopened. I believe that after being deeply wounded, people can become whole again. But I also believe that the deepest wounds can be reopened. Just as wounds in our physical bodies leave scars, so emotional wounds leave scar tissue on our souls.
I am blessed to live in a world surrounded by people who love unconditionally, regardless of race, religion, or sexual orientation. Some are avid atheists, some are Sunday church-goers. But all have come to the same rational conclusion: that compassion and non-judgment are the only way to live in harmony with one another. "Walk a mile in someone else's shoes," we say. But no one can walk in my shoes, and I cannot walk in anyone else's, though we can relate to each other profoundly. I will never know the core of what makes another person who they are. We all have our ways of coping, feeling safe and accepted.
Sure, we all judge. Its in our nature to have opinions and want to defend them. It is when one person feels so strongly that they are right, to the point of ostracizing or condemning a fellow human being, that the sticky problems begin.
I was raised Catholic. I understand the beauty of faith. I believe in the power of spirituality. I prefaced this statement by saying that we all judge, because I am not exempt. I do my utmost to be open-minded to any walk of life, even if I don't think it would suit me very well.
There is only one exception: avid religious activists who insist that they are right, everyone else is wrong, and that we must be saved from the wrath of God by living according to ridiculous and irrational rules and regulations.
I cannot express to you the acute pain I feel from being condemned by someone who ought to be biologically programmed to love me unconditionally. Fear is a powerful thing. It is so powerful that it can override love. How tragic that a person can be so blinded by faith that they would not only be ok with, but see it as necessary to point out the areas in a person's life that they disagree with.
In my case, it is not just one person, but many. The Catholic homeschooling families I grew up with, who spoke quietly to my mother about how my temper and vocal-ness about things needed to be reigned in, and the exclusion I felt because I was not docile like my peers. The Catholic youth ranch I was sent to for nearly two years, which used brainwashing techniques akin to those used on POW's in the Korean War in order to try to force me to comply. The private Catholic college I attended that expelled me after only a few months for not fitting the mold of a Catholic young adult because I was struggling with issues in my past. The very large Catholic church community in Louisiana that broke all ties with me save the occasional cordial, careful conversations as I attempted to deal with the emerged issues in my past. The small Puritanical Catholic community in Oklahoma I ran to for refuge, which instead universally condemned me and shooed their children away from me for refusing to adhered to their 18th century beliefs and customs.
Don't tell me that my healing will only begin when I return to the faith. I will not fall prey to the fallacy that the happiness of a perpetually unhappy person depends on my adherence to her belief system. And don't you dare have the audacity to announce that my incredibly happy marriage is doomed to failure without the Catholic faith.
You will forgive me for having strong doubts about returning to a community which defies its own definition.
Lately, an old wound has been reopened. I believe that after being deeply wounded, people can become whole again. But I also believe that the deepest wounds can be reopened. Just as wounds in our physical bodies leave scars, so emotional wounds leave scar tissue on our souls.
I am blessed to live in a world surrounded by people who love unconditionally, regardless of race, religion, or sexual orientation. Some are avid atheists, some are Sunday church-goers. But all have come to the same rational conclusion: that compassion and non-judgment are the only way to live in harmony with one another. "Walk a mile in someone else's shoes," we say. But no one can walk in my shoes, and I cannot walk in anyone else's, though we can relate to each other profoundly. I will never know the core of what makes another person who they are. We all have our ways of coping, feeling safe and accepted.
Sure, we all judge. Its in our nature to have opinions and want to defend them. It is when one person feels so strongly that they are right, to the point of ostracizing or condemning a fellow human being, that the sticky problems begin.
I was raised Catholic. I understand the beauty of faith. I believe in the power of spirituality. I prefaced this statement by saying that we all judge, because I am not exempt. I do my utmost to be open-minded to any walk of life, even if I don't think it would suit me very well.
There is only one exception: avid religious activists who insist that they are right, everyone else is wrong, and that we must be saved from the wrath of God by living according to ridiculous and irrational rules and regulations.
I cannot express to you the acute pain I feel from being condemned by someone who ought to be biologically programmed to love me unconditionally. Fear is a powerful thing. It is so powerful that it can override love. How tragic that a person can be so blinded by faith that they would not only be ok with, but see it as necessary to point out the areas in a person's life that they disagree with.
In my case, it is not just one person, but many. The Catholic homeschooling families I grew up with, who spoke quietly to my mother about how my temper and vocal-ness about things needed to be reigned in, and the exclusion I felt because I was not docile like my peers. The Catholic youth ranch I was sent to for nearly two years, which used brainwashing techniques akin to those used on POW's in the Korean War in order to try to force me to comply. The private Catholic college I attended that expelled me after only a few months for not fitting the mold of a Catholic young adult because I was struggling with issues in my past. The very large Catholic church community in Louisiana that broke all ties with me save the occasional cordial, careful conversations as I attempted to deal with the emerged issues in my past. The small Puritanical Catholic community in Oklahoma I ran to for refuge, which instead universally condemned me and shooed their children away from me for refusing to adhered to their 18th century beliefs and customs.
Don't tell me that my healing will only begin when I return to the faith. I will not fall prey to the fallacy that the happiness of a perpetually unhappy person depends on my adherence to her belief system. And don't you dare have the audacity to announce that my incredibly happy marriage is doomed to failure without the Catholic faith.
You will forgive me for having strong doubts about returning to a community which defies its own definition.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)