I won't be at a computer again for a few days. So here's an extra to tide you over.
This blog is dedicated to Jesse-the-Trainer
This evening as I sat at the bar and ate dinner, I got into a couple of text conversations. Usually I would talk to the people around me, but the woman on my right was lit before I got there, and the couple on my left were more into each other than the food. The bartender was fun, but then, he had a job to do so I had to entertain myself somehow.
My awesome trainer and I texted a bit (his wife and baby are out of town and when such things happen, he usually waits in a dark room, mournfully petting his dog, Daisy, until they return and the sun comes out again) and when I asked him what he was up to, he sent me a photo of some folks sitting around a table drinking beer -with the label "Church!" I forgot he has a Friday night small group gathering at his followers-of-Christ church. (Normally, I would say "Christian" but apparently that term has fallen into something that makes people cringe, including him, so in deference to delicate feelings, I shall use preferred terminology.)
I texted back: You are SO on your way to becoming Catholic!
There is a long and beloved history of Catholics and beer. And tattoos. (Dude loves tattoos and gets a new one for every major event, like: It's Monday Again!)
First of all, St. Augustine of Hippo, and MIGHTY man of God, is the patron saint of brewers. Yes, there is a patron saint of brewers, and a very strong manly one at that! He also ought to be the patron saint of People of the Second Chance, given his own history, except that POTSC aren't into the whole patron saint thing. Yet.
Loads of monasteries brew beer. They even pray over it as it is made. There is also an actual Blessing of Beer ritual!
As point of fact, the modern origins of a "toast" in someone's honor (holding up a glass and doing a shout-out) has its roots in the Eucharistic Liturgy where the priest lifts the chalice of wine to offer it to God. TOTALLY CATHOLIC, thank you!
Then there is St. Brigid's take on it:
I'd like to give a lake of beer to God.
I'd love the heavenly
Host to be tippling there
For all eternity.
....
I'd sit with the men, the women and God
There by the lake of beer.
We'd be drinking good health forever
And every drop would be a prayer.
There are loads of pics of our current Pope with a stein of good German beer in his hand. Every good fish fry at any parish has a keg tapped, not mention parish socials, special events and quilting bees.
Theology on Tap is a current permutation of the "drink beer and talk about God" tradition in Catholicism. Basically, it is a time to gather at a local bar, invite a smart theologian to show up for the discussion, talk about God and see if you can stump the theologian. (Actually, that's not really its purpose, but it is a fun thing to try to do.)
I'll chat about tattoos in a few days when I'm back at a computer.
Too bad Jesse-the-Trainer isn't Catholic. Yet.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Heading Out
I'm hitting the runway to travel for work to Salt Lake City and then Portland. I am in town about 18 hours on Saturday, and really, I arranged my travel that way purely because I wanted to be in town at least long enough to go to a bellydance workshop on Saturday afternoon.
Traveling and being healthy do not go hand-in-hand. I have to be intentional about eating healthy and getting some exercise. It is soooo easy to roll out of bed, grab fast food and head into a day full of meetings. In fact, eating fast food in the car is a very easy way to deal with the inconvenience of hunger as well as gain that extra weight that you've been wanting to!
I'm out of town long enough that that much time living unhealthily will actually have an effect on me when I return. In fact, this being my busy travel season, I'm out of town more than in town until Christmas. Imagine what three months of ignoring healthy living can do!
However, this is just part of how I live my life, and by thinking ahead and being intentional, I can STILL be healthy and energetic and active, no matter where I'm sleeping at night.
Years ago, a friend named Ben told me that being pro-life means being pro-my-own-life, too, and when I ask God for help with this, He will send it. Time after time, Ben was proven right.
I'm dashing this off between meetings and my flight out, so no amazing bible verse today.
I did however, see a really funny quote: I have no skeletons in my closet, but I do have a tiny box of souls in my underwear drawer.
;-)
Traveling and being healthy do not go hand-in-hand. I have to be intentional about eating healthy and getting some exercise. It is soooo easy to roll out of bed, grab fast food and head into a day full of meetings. In fact, eating fast food in the car is a very easy way to deal with the inconvenience of hunger as well as gain that extra weight that you've been wanting to!
I'm out of town long enough that that much time living unhealthily will actually have an effect on me when I return. In fact, this being my busy travel season, I'm out of town more than in town until Christmas. Imagine what three months of ignoring healthy living can do!
However, this is just part of how I live my life, and by thinking ahead and being intentional, I can STILL be healthy and energetic and active, no matter where I'm sleeping at night.
Years ago, a friend named Ben told me that being pro-life means being pro-my-own-life, too, and when I ask God for help with this, He will send it. Time after time, Ben was proven right.
I'm dashing this off between meetings and my flight out, so no amazing bible verse today.
I did however, see a really funny quote: I have no skeletons in my closet, but I do have a tiny box of souls in my underwear drawer.
;-)
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
the Fools and the Children
When I was in college, I managed to drop the corner of a bookcase we were moving on my foot, which left a lovely gash that subsequently became infected. I was too busy to coddle a mere foot, however, so spent a day walking around Chicago in ill-fitting shoes and aggravating the problem. When I finally went into the student health center for treatment, the nurse took one look and sighed, "The Lord protects the fools and the children!"
Thank God, because really, we have enough problems without adding being completely unprotected among them!
The other day, I nonchalantly mentioned to a friend that God is very protective of me. I was referring to the fact that when I visit Vegas and I'm all happy and centered, lots of chances to make big mistakes present themselves and I walk away easily. When I'm all off center and want to be BAD in a big way, suddenly there are no opportunities!
When I thought about that statement later, I kinda got all warm and fuzzy, because I really really like the thought that God really IS protective of me and places angels in all the necessary danger zones and I can take a deep breath and relax because He has it handled. I'm safe.
I love the thought that someone bigger than myself is looking out for me. I love that God cherishes me to the point He knows all my vulnerabilities and weak spots and failings, and rather than leaving me out in a field to die from my own dumbness or actively exploiting them to an evil end (As humans are known to do to each other!) He makes Himself a shield and assigns angels to the task as well.
Before every class almost, my dance teacher has us fling away all the negative energy and imagine a lovely veil floating around us that only lets positive, affirming energy in. I started doing that before I walk into the gym or to the track to run or really any other place I can feel my anxiety creeping up on me. Only I picture this warm flame of God's love and lots of happy guardian angels swirling around me and whispering love into my ears.
Today, I am praying the same thing for a young woman I love more than my life, that she feels all bubblewrapped in God's love and protection, and surrounded by happy guardian angels who will whisper love into her ears. We can do that, you know -ask God for something good and He will hear our every word.
Thank God, because really, we have enough problems without adding being completely unprotected among them!
The other day, I nonchalantly mentioned to a friend that God is very protective of me. I was referring to the fact that when I visit Vegas and I'm all happy and centered, lots of chances to make big mistakes present themselves and I walk away easily. When I'm all off center and want to be BAD in a big way, suddenly there are no opportunities!
When I thought about that statement later, I kinda got all warm and fuzzy, because I really really like the thought that God really IS protective of me and places angels in all the necessary danger zones and I can take a deep breath and relax because He has it handled. I'm safe.
I love the thought that someone bigger than myself is looking out for me. I love that God cherishes me to the point He knows all my vulnerabilities and weak spots and failings, and rather than leaving me out in a field to die from my own dumbness or actively exploiting them to an evil end (As humans are known to do to each other!) He makes Himself a shield and assigns angels to the task as well.
Before every class almost, my dance teacher has us fling away all the negative energy and imagine a lovely veil floating around us that only lets positive, affirming energy in. I started doing that before I walk into the gym or to the track to run or really any other place I can feel my anxiety creeping up on me. Only I picture this warm flame of God's love and lots of happy guardian angels swirling around me and whispering love into my ears.
Today, I am praying the same thing for a young woman I love more than my life, that she feels all bubblewrapped in God's love and protection, and surrounded by happy guardian angels who will whisper love into her ears. We can do that, you know -ask God for something good and He will hear our every word.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Take My Breath Away
Nope, this isn't another whiny rant about asthma.
Have you ever noticed that when you see something so heartbreakingly beautiful there is no sense in taking a picture of it because the picture will turn out nothing like what you actually saw? The eye sees color nuances that photos can't capture. Every eye is also different in the colors it can perceive, so literally no one sees anything exactly the same way.
As I drove in to work this morning, the clouds hung below the peaks and looked so, so beautiful I wanted to snap a picture, but of course I was driving and anyway had left my phone in the trunk.
I thought about how even if I did get a photo and post it here, you would not see what I saw. Even if you had been in the car with me, you would have seen it slightly differently.
This got me to thinking about how we all see things differently, remember things differently, experience things differently.
And that simply the way we are created makes sure that this happens. It is actually intentional. We are supposed to all see things differently and provide our different perspectives within relationship to each other -because the only way I can get a little glimpse of how someone else sees something is if they communicate that to me.
I think about all the times I've felt like the "square peg" or "jolly green giant" or "outlier" or "different" in the many, many ways I just simply can't conform. Usually, I just feel all weird about it, especially in a work situation where my view is so radically different than the viewpoints around me that I begin to think perhaps my perspective is invalid.
I think we have all felt that way at times and by listening to other people, our own perspectives are enriched. Tunnel vision serves no one.
Georgia O'Keefe once said, "To see takes time, like to have a friend takes time." I think seeing and being a friend, are kind of the same thing.
Have you ever noticed that when you see something so heartbreakingly beautiful there is no sense in taking a picture of it because the picture will turn out nothing like what you actually saw? The eye sees color nuances that photos can't capture. Every eye is also different in the colors it can perceive, so literally no one sees anything exactly the same way.
As I drove in to work this morning, the clouds hung below the peaks and looked so, so beautiful I wanted to snap a picture, but of course I was driving and anyway had left my phone in the trunk.
I thought about how even if I did get a photo and post it here, you would not see what I saw. Even if you had been in the car with me, you would have seen it slightly differently.
This got me to thinking about how we all see things differently, remember things differently, experience things differently.
And that simply the way we are created makes sure that this happens. It is actually intentional. We are supposed to all see things differently and provide our different perspectives within relationship to each other -because the only way I can get a little glimpse of how someone else sees something is if they communicate that to me.
I think about all the times I've felt like the "square peg" or "jolly green giant" or "outlier" or "different" in the many, many ways I just simply can't conform. Usually, I just feel all weird about it, especially in a work situation where my view is so radically different than the viewpoints around me that I begin to think perhaps my perspective is invalid.
I think we have all felt that way at times and by listening to other people, our own perspectives are enriched. Tunnel vision serves no one.
Georgia O'Keefe once said, "To see takes time, like to have a friend takes time." I think seeing and being a friend, are kind of the same thing.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Love, Again and Again
I am one of those who feels once something is accomplished, it ought to STAY accomplished. If you clean the house, it ought to stay clean. If you wash the car, it ought to stay shiny. If you learn how to take care of yourself, it ought to be second nature and require no further attention!
As you know, houses and cars don't stay clean forever, you have to keep cleaning them. Learning how to be healthy isn't a one-time thing, either.
Someone told me recently that it takes 3-5 years to make a permanent life change if it is something big. At least a year to establish the new behaviors, at least a year to ingrain them as habit, and another year to make it sustaining, at a minimum. So lots of time to experience set backs. Fall down 7 times, get up 8.
I've developed some really good habits in the last couple years -eating healthy, exercising, getting stronger and more stable. It frankly astonished me how quickly those habits faded when I started moving away from them and how easily it came back to me to be self-critical and biting.
So, I'm doing yet another reboot and focusing on the very basics: eating and exercising. Nothing terribly complicated, it just that I have often unrealistic expectations of what I SHOULD be doing, when what I REALLY should be doing is being kind to myself and setting myself up for success.
Back to my easy to remember food rules: Eat every 3-4 hours, and eat protein every time I eat. Don't buy candy to just have it around. Love myself enough to make the effort.
Sweat for 15 minutes a day. Yeah, yeah, I was doing an hour of hardcore workouts and being all badass -but that seems really overwhelming to jump back into. So, I'm just going to focus on getting at least 15 min of exercise in. If I feel like doing more once I get into it, fine, but no pressure to keep going if 15 min is all I can handle. I like getting sweaty.
I am still imperfect at the love stuff. Love is patient and kind and nonjudgmental. I can try practicing that with myself, too.
1Cor 13: 4-8
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails.
As you know, houses and cars don't stay clean forever, you have to keep cleaning them. Learning how to be healthy isn't a one-time thing, either.
Someone told me recently that it takes 3-5 years to make a permanent life change if it is something big. At least a year to establish the new behaviors, at least a year to ingrain them as habit, and another year to make it sustaining, at a minimum. So lots of time to experience set backs. Fall down 7 times, get up 8.
I've developed some really good habits in the last couple years -eating healthy, exercising, getting stronger and more stable. It frankly astonished me how quickly those habits faded when I started moving away from them and how easily it came back to me to be self-critical and biting.
So, I'm doing yet another reboot and focusing on the very basics: eating and exercising. Nothing terribly complicated, it just that I have often unrealistic expectations of what I SHOULD be doing, when what I REALLY should be doing is being kind to myself and setting myself up for success.
Back to my easy to remember food rules: Eat every 3-4 hours, and eat protein every time I eat. Don't buy candy to just have it around. Love myself enough to make the effort.
Sweat for 15 minutes a day. Yeah, yeah, I was doing an hour of hardcore workouts and being all badass -but that seems really overwhelming to jump back into. So, I'm just going to focus on getting at least 15 min of exercise in. If I feel like doing more once I get into it, fine, but no pressure to keep going if 15 min is all I can handle. I like getting sweaty.
I am still imperfect at the love stuff. Love is patient and kind and nonjudgmental. I can try practicing that with myself, too.
1Cor 13: 4-8
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8 Love never fails.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Why I Train
Shannyn Caldwell wrote a blog yesterday that made me think quite a bit.
http://iknowurbutwhatami.wordpress.com/2012/10/18/the-why-that-makes-me-cry/
I especially thought about this as I shivered in the chill at Buffalo Park last night waiting for the run to start, and already hacking up a lung. I ran 2 minutes and thirty seconds, and could not recover. My chest was actually aching and even after walking two minutes, I could not actually speak.
So, last night, the run was done after about 5 minutes!
But I as I walked back to my car, waving at the all the other runners, I pondered some more. Why AM I doing this? This question nagged me during the drive home, drinking a protein shake, heading out again to the volleyball game.
I want to be engaged in my own life, and actually be in my body.
I spent so much of my life numb to what was going on around me and to me and by me. When something awful happened, I simply dissociated, took my head to my happy place of rainbows and unicorns and hid my body -on the roof or under the bed, or as I grew older, under layers of baggy clothes and excess fat. I did a lot of stuff that I could hardly credit later during my rare moments of lucidity.
I remember thinking -this doesn't matter, it is just my body, it isn't ME. ME never gets touched or hurt or broken.
The light went on a couple years ago, when a dear friend pointed out that God made us to have bodies and that our bodies are just as much US as our souls are. When we are resurrected, we will have bodies again. We are not body or soul, we are both.
And then God told me that I do matter, and my body does matter, and He would heal me if I let Him.
This has been a long and difficult and amazing and delightful and terrifying and exuberant process, this figuring out how to live my life and be me. Running and getting stronger every day helps me glory in this miracle that I was born and have a healthy body and have a purpose, even if I'm not entirely sure what it is.
I had a moment walking into work this morning. It is homecoming weekend and we are crawling with alumni and parents visiting. I'm on my way to a board meeting, so I actually made effort with a suit and make-up. A woman was hissing at her college-age daughter who was wearing pajamas and a hoodie (high college fashion right now, BTW!) Her daughter was slumped and looked so sad. As I stood waiting for traffic to pass, she hissed in a low voice to her daughter, "Look at her! She is a big girl, too, but look how gorgeous she looks! She is put together and standing straight. Why can't you at least TRY?"
And a million memories of my own mom doing pretty much that flooded through me, and the sharpest memories of the various humiliations I felt, knowing I was not the daughter she wanted and could never live up to whatever was in her head.
And all of that came flooding out my mouth in a simple, "Your daughter is beautiful. Stop trying to beat her pretty out of her and make her in your own image."
I was wearing my name tag, so it is entirely possible I will be getting a phone call to come visit my boss later today, I don't care. What I said probably made no difference in the grand scheme of things.
I just thought it needed to be said.
http://iknowurbutwhatami.wordpress.com/2012/10/18/the-why-that-makes-me-cry/
I especially thought about this as I shivered in the chill at Buffalo Park last night waiting for the run to start, and already hacking up a lung. I ran 2 minutes and thirty seconds, and could not recover. My chest was actually aching and even after walking two minutes, I could not actually speak.
So, last night, the run was done after about 5 minutes!
But I as I walked back to my car, waving at the all the other runners, I pondered some more. Why AM I doing this? This question nagged me during the drive home, drinking a protein shake, heading out again to the volleyball game.
I want to be engaged in my own life, and actually be in my body.
I spent so much of my life numb to what was going on around me and to me and by me. When something awful happened, I simply dissociated, took my head to my happy place of rainbows and unicorns and hid my body -on the roof or under the bed, or as I grew older, under layers of baggy clothes and excess fat. I did a lot of stuff that I could hardly credit later during my rare moments of lucidity.
I remember thinking -this doesn't matter, it is just my body, it isn't ME. ME never gets touched or hurt or broken.
The light went on a couple years ago, when a dear friend pointed out that God made us to have bodies and that our bodies are just as much US as our souls are. When we are resurrected, we will have bodies again. We are not body or soul, we are both.
And then God told me that I do matter, and my body does matter, and He would heal me if I let Him.
This has been a long and difficult and amazing and delightful and terrifying and exuberant process, this figuring out how to live my life and be me. Running and getting stronger every day helps me glory in this miracle that I was born and have a healthy body and have a purpose, even if I'm not entirely sure what it is.
I had a moment walking into work this morning. It is homecoming weekend and we are crawling with alumni and parents visiting. I'm on my way to a board meeting, so I actually made effort with a suit and make-up. A woman was hissing at her college-age daughter who was wearing pajamas and a hoodie (high college fashion right now, BTW!) Her daughter was slumped and looked so sad. As I stood waiting for traffic to pass, she hissed in a low voice to her daughter, "Look at her! She is a big girl, too, but look how gorgeous she looks! She is put together and standing straight. Why can't you at least TRY?"
And a million memories of my own mom doing pretty much that flooded through me, and the sharpest memories of the various humiliations I felt, knowing I was not the daughter she wanted and could never live up to whatever was in her head.
And all of that came flooding out my mouth in a simple, "Your daughter is beautiful. Stop trying to beat her pretty out of her and make her in your own image."
I was wearing my name tag, so it is entirely possible I will be getting a phone call to come visit my boss later today, I don't care. What I said probably made no difference in the grand scheme of things.
I just thought it needed to be said.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Well-Placed Prayer
I have knee jerk reactions for certain times I pray.
Plane take-offs and landings and when it gets waaay bumpy. Ever since I read an article that said most plane crashes happen on takeoff and landing, I decided to say an Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be and St. Michael's Prayer during those times -or if I'm saying a rosary anyway, I just keep it up. It isn't even to "keep me safe." I just want my head in the right place if the plane does in fact crash.
That habit is now so deeply ingrained that when I actually WAS on a plane that crash landed, I found myself doing the exact same thing (while putting on the oxygen mask, of course!) (BTW, the most emotional part of being in a plane crash is NOT actually the crash itself, or even the screeching of the other passengers, it is watching all the moms with babies solemnly curling themselves around them and whispering love into their ears.)
So, these sorts of habits are quite useful.
I also say a rosary in my head when I'm on a treadmill or going running without Roxy. WITH Roxy, I'm talking to her most of the time.
So, yesterday, as I was doing planks with Jesse-the-Trainer, and I cast about for anything to think about except how much was I not enjoying the experience, I lit on the Hail Mary, which takes about 20 seconds to pray if you do so thoughtfully. Well, that makes planks WAY easier!
So, as I left training last night, all wobbly, I felt this WAVE of sadness pass over me and felt tears well up. I was like, Okay, God, WTF??
I finally had to talk to God about it because every time I've left the gym since we switched to evening workouts, I've been in tears within minutes.
Then God reminded me of how when my SIL and I would work out together in MN, she'd turn into a growly bear until we connected she needed to eat something right after working out. That made life better for everyone.
Hmm, well, the last time I ate was about 6 hours before. That never happened with morning workouts because I always ate breakfast beforehand.
I'm sad because I am hungry. Thank you, God, for pointing that out to me. I will try to talk to you first the next time.
Note to self: Eat something!
Plane take-offs and landings and when it gets waaay bumpy. Ever since I read an article that said most plane crashes happen on takeoff and landing, I decided to say an Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be and St. Michael's Prayer during those times -or if I'm saying a rosary anyway, I just keep it up. It isn't even to "keep me safe." I just want my head in the right place if the plane does in fact crash.
That habit is now so deeply ingrained that when I actually WAS on a plane that crash landed, I found myself doing the exact same thing (while putting on the oxygen mask, of course!) (BTW, the most emotional part of being in a plane crash is NOT actually the crash itself, or even the screeching of the other passengers, it is watching all the moms with babies solemnly curling themselves around them and whispering love into their ears.)
So, these sorts of habits are quite useful.
I also say a rosary in my head when I'm on a treadmill or going running without Roxy. WITH Roxy, I'm talking to her most of the time.
So, yesterday, as I was doing planks with Jesse-the-Trainer, and I cast about for anything to think about except how much was I not enjoying the experience, I lit on the Hail Mary, which takes about 20 seconds to pray if you do so thoughtfully. Well, that makes planks WAY easier!
So, as I left training last night, all wobbly, I felt this WAVE of sadness pass over me and felt tears well up. I was like, Okay, God, WTF??
I finally had to talk to God about it because every time I've left the gym since we switched to evening workouts, I've been in tears within minutes.
Then God reminded me of how when my SIL and I would work out together in MN, she'd turn into a growly bear until we connected she needed to eat something right after working out. That made life better for everyone.
Hmm, well, the last time I ate was about 6 hours before. That never happened with morning workouts because I always ate breakfast beforehand.
I'm sad because I am hungry. Thank you, God, for pointing that out to me. I will try to talk to you first the next time.
Note to self: Eat something!
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Running in a Pack
I was dreading going to running club. DREADING. Last week was so miserable I cried for two days after.
Yesterday morning, as I delivered my promised coconut- choc chip -crack macaroons to our public radio station, I discovered that the running club that manages the beginner running class I do was staffing the phone lines. So, there I was, carrying in a boatload of extremely unhealthy cookies, ones that ought to come with a surgeon general's warning, and they are waving and saying hi, etc..
I know a few people in the regular running club -Stephanie, who talked me into trying the running class, some work colleagues, a couple folks from my church. Steph was there and hugged me and promised to be at the track that evening.
I actually felt better knowing that people who love me outside my nascent ability to run would be there. I KNOW no one is judging me, but it feels perfectly terrible to be so publicly awful at something. It is really nice when hardcore runners come up and hug you and are proud of you just for showing up.
MK and I gave each other "pep talks" mid-afternoon. No matter how much it sucks, we just have to show up, that's all. We made escape plans. We decided that if it is horrible we will just go run by ourselves at a local park during this time. We conspired on how to let the organizers know how horrid running at the track is without hurting their feelings, of course, because they are awfully nice people.
So, we show up at the track. A couple of people came up and thanked me for the cookies earlier in the day. Then, having had a rough day at work, the very last thing I wanted to hear was: Today, we shall run 3 minutes, walk 90 seconds, lather rinse repeat.
I looked at MK and just muttered, Forget it, I'm out, I can't do this.
"Yes, you can," she whispered back, "and if you can't then do 2 minutes and walk the rest." One of my downline staff (who is an advanced runner) overheard us and patted my back and said, "Please stay, just try."
Scowly face. I could feel my throat close up and tears begin to well.
Forest-the-running-coach must have seen the look on my face because he walked over and said, Look if you want to, you can just run 2 minutes, walk the rest, do what you can can, and if you want, you can just walk the laps, or you can run 3/4 of it and walk the rest and ignore the timing.
I could not even look at him. I just nodded grimly and started jogging when MK did. I was trying to breathe deep and not burst into tears.
Forest jogged with us and kept up a steady stream of chatter, and after the first set, said, "Slow your pace down a bit and that will help you. Stick with MK."
The last lap MK and I encouraged Forest to tell us about all his bad runs and had us laughing out loud when he shared a friend of his wanted to win during a workout so badly he shoved him into a trash can as they were running.
It made me feel better knowing that even great runners have horrid days.
We did six laps in all (eight if you count the warm up and cool down) and the track is 400 meters. And I actually DID it, and felt all sweaty and gross and awesome afterwards.
And Forest could not HELP but smirk, "And here you thought you couldn't do it."
Yesterday morning, as I delivered my promised coconut- choc chip -crack macaroons to our public radio station, I discovered that the running club that manages the beginner running class I do was staffing the phone lines. So, there I was, carrying in a boatload of extremely unhealthy cookies, ones that ought to come with a surgeon general's warning, and they are waving and saying hi, etc..
I know a few people in the regular running club -Stephanie, who talked me into trying the running class, some work colleagues, a couple folks from my church. Steph was there and hugged me and promised to be at the track that evening.
I actually felt better knowing that people who love me outside my nascent ability to run would be there. I KNOW no one is judging me, but it feels perfectly terrible to be so publicly awful at something. It is really nice when hardcore runners come up and hug you and are proud of you just for showing up.
MK and I gave each other "pep talks" mid-afternoon. No matter how much it sucks, we just have to show up, that's all. We made escape plans. We decided that if it is horrible we will just go run by ourselves at a local park during this time. We conspired on how to let the organizers know how horrid running at the track is without hurting their feelings, of course, because they are awfully nice people.
So, we show up at the track. A couple of people came up and thanked me for the cookies earlier in the day. Then, having had a rough day at work, the very last thing I wanted to hear was: Today, we shall run 3 minutes, walk 90 seconds, lather rinse repeat.
I looked at MK and just muttered, Forget it, I'm out, I can't do this.
"Yes, you can," she whispered back, "and if you can't then do 2 minutes and walk the rest." One of my downline staff (who is an advanced runner) overheard us and patted my back and said, "Please stay, just try."
Scowly face. I could feel my throat close up and tears begin to well.
Forest-the-running-coach must have seen the look on my face because he walked over and said, Look if you want to, you can just run 2 minutes, walk the rest, do what you can can, and if you want, you can just walk the laps, or you can run 3/4 of it and walk the rest and ignore the timing.
I could not even look at him. I just nodded grimly and started jogging when MK did. I was trying to breathe deep and not burst into tears.
Forest jogged with us and kept up a steady stream of chatter, and after the first set, said, "Slow your pace down a bit and that will help you. Stick with MK."
The last lap MK and I encouraged Forest to tell us about all his bad runs and had us laughing out loud when he shared a friend of his wanted to win during a workout so badly he shoved him into a trash can as they were running.
It made me feel better knowing that even great runners have horrid days.
We did six laps in all (eight if you count the warm up and cool down) and the track is 400 meters. And I actually DID it, and felt all sweaty and gross and awesome afterwards.
And Forest could not HELP but smirk, "And here you thought you couldn't do it."
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Happy St. Hedwig's Day!
As everyone knows, Oct 16 is the feast of St. Hedwig of Silesia. Okay maybe not EVERYONE, but I'm trying to find a reason to like October 16th.
Traditionally, October is a horrid month for my family anyway, (several deaths during this month!) but since my mom died on this date 14 years ago, and last year on this exact same date was a horrible day, I am simply not fond of this day.
I always swore if I ever got married, it would be in October, just to reclaim the month. Heck, my niece Amelia wanted to avoid October so much, she hung on to be born until November 1! Smart girl!
Out of curiosity, I checked to see what St. Hedwig is the patron saint of: Bavaria, Duchesses, Silesia, Victims of Jealousy, Brides, Death Of Children, Difficult Marriages, Widows, Orphans.
After reading a couple short bios on her, I have a great deal of respect for the woman. SEVEN kids! Then basically became a nun after the kids were raised and her husband died. And other interesting stuff. But her life was not one sheltered from the storms and she kept the faith.
I really respect that.
Sometimes when things get so perfectly dark and you can't see any sort of light at the end of the tunnel, it is perfectly reasonable to give up. Any sensible person would.
But hope drives us on, and faith makes us persevere. Which makes me think being Christian is perfect for all us irrational people.
Jeremiah 29:11: I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans for your welfare and not your detriment, to give you a future and a hope.
Traditionally, October is a horrid month for my family anyway, (several deaths during this month!) but since my mom died on this date 14 years ago, and last year on this exact same date was a horrible day, I am simply not fond of this day.
I always swore if I ever got married, it would be in October, just to reclaim the month. Heck, my niece Amelia wanted to avoid October so much, she hung on to be born until November 1! Smart girl!
Out of curiosity, I checked to see what St. Hedwig is the patron saint of: Bavaria, Duchesses, Silesia, Victims of Jealousy, Brides, Death Of Children, Difficult Marriages, Widows, Orphans.
After reading a couple short bios on her, I have a great deal of respect for the woman. SEVEN kids! Then basically became a nun after the kids were raised and her husband died. And other interesting stuff. But her life was not one sheltered from the storms and she kept the faith.
I really respect that.
Sometimes when things get so perfectly dark and you can't see any sort of light at the end of the tunnel, it is perfectly reasonable to give up. Any sensible person would.
But hope drives us on, and faith makes us persevere. Which makes me think being Christian is perfect for all us irrational people.
Jeremiah 29:11: I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord. Plans for your welfare and not your detriment, to give you a future and a hope.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Angels Whispering
Okay, so... hmmm... sometimes it might be that I put off doing stuff that scares me. Like, well, dealing with student loan people or perhaps maybe my taxes.
Yes, I'm a tax attorney and I do my own taxes out of pride, but put them off until today because I had extra complicated stuff and was frankly worried about the financial hit. And yes, I do know all about interest and penalties.
Today I sort of had the day off work. I had taken vacation time, but ended working a half day anyway due to some deadlines. Anyway, I met my dear friend Michelle for lunch and confided I had not yet done my taxes.
"It's less scary to know than to not know. Just do them and find out," she urged me.
Now, once I had decided to keep extending the deadline, I had kind of forgotten about them. For some reason today they were on my mind.
So, I bit my lip, grabbed my forms, and did my taxes. Found out today is the last day to efile -so if I hadn't filed them TODAY, I would have quite a wait on my refund.
Yep, I said refund. I did get money back.
I had built up the scariness in my mind to the point I didn't even want to think about them, much less DEAL with them. And all that anxiety for nothing.
Huh. Almost like worry doesn't accomplish much. Hard to believe.
Yes, I'm a tax attorney and I do my own taxes out of pride, but put them off until today because I had extra complicated stuff and was frankly worried about the financial hit. And yes, I do know all about interest and penalties.
Today I sort of had the day off work. I had taken vacation time, but ended working a half day anyway due to some deadlines. Anyway, I met my dear friend Michelle for lunch and confided I had not yet done my taxes.
"It's less scary to know than to not know. Just do them and find out," she urged me.
Now, once I had decided to keep extending the deadline, I had kind of forgotten about them. For some reason today they were on my mind.
So, I bit my lip, grabbed my forms, and did my taxes. Found out today is the last day to efile -so if I hadn't filed them TODAY, I would have quite a wait on my refund.
Yep, I said refund. I did get money back.
I had built up the scariness in my mind to the point I didn't even want to think about them, much less DEAL with them. And all that anxiety for nothing.
Huh. Almost like worry doesn't accomplish much. Hard to believe.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Psalm 23, revisited
Psalm 23 always seemed a little hokey to me, probably because I remember all those commercials from the 70s advertising some famous actor recording Bible readings, and they used that one in the commercial. I groan a little inwardly when someone quotes it.
I like the dramatic ones like 18, or the fierce ones, like 144.
Still, for some reason it was going through my head like an ear worm on the drive back from Vegas today.
The Lord is my shepherd ... Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil... I will dwell in the house of the Lord for endless days...
The Lord is my shepherd. There you have it. I'm a sheep. Sigh.
A priest, who actually had BEEN a sheep-herder as a boy, once said, "We think of sheep as stupid, but they aren't. They are vulnerable, not stupid."
Honestly, that's not a whole lot more comfortable than being thought of as stupid.
SO when I read this psalm once I got home with new eyes, it really is less about the sappiness of the restful waters and verdant pastures, and more about our true safety when we accept our vulnerability and let God shield us. The psalmist tells us that we are so safe in God, that death itself is nothing to fear, and that we are so safe, we can sit down and have a feast right there with our enemies poised!!
I can rest, can stop my constant vigilance, can walk anywhere and be in perfect safety when I let the Lord be my shepherd.
I like the dramatic ones like 18, or the fierce ones, like 144.
Still, for some reason it was going through my head like an ear worm on the drive back from Vegas today.
The Lord is my shepherd ... Though I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil... I will dwell in the house of the Lord for endless days...
The Lord is my shepherd. There you have it. I'm a sheep. Sigh.
A priest, who actually had BEEN a sheep-herder as a boy, once said, "We think of sheep as stupid, but they aren't. They are vulnerable, not stupid."
Honestly, that's not a whole lot more comfortable than being thought of as stupid.
SO when I read this psalm once I got home with new eyes, it really is less about the sappiness of the restful waters and verdant pastures, and more about our true safety when we accept our vulnerability and let God shield us. The psalmist tells us that we are so safe in God, that death itself is nothing to fear, and that we are so safe, we can sit down and have a feast right there with our enemies poised!!
I can rest, can stop my constant vigilance, can walk anywhere and be in perfect safety when I let the Lord be my shepherd.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Setting Fire to the Rain
Last night I did actually go to the running club at Buffalo Park. It was chilly and rainy but Mary Kate was there and she will never abandon me.
It was SO MUCH FUN! The rain cleared away all the junk in the air, and we kept a perfectly manageable pace, and Forest and some other volunteer coach who was very sweet but whose name I never caught stuck with us three serious newbies... MK, me and a woman named Charlotte...?
And since only about 1/3 of the folks who usually run showed up, we got to feel extra superior, which is always nice.
Anyway, since Adele songs are the best to run to because they keep a steady rhythm throughout, I had Set Fire to the Rain going through my head, while MK had AC/DC's Thunder going through hers.
It was one of the best runs I've ever had. It wasn't easy, and one time when Forest called the 30 second mark, I thought he called time to stop, and I stopped, and then had to start again. That wasn't the most fun ever, but I DID it.
Psalm 60 says with God's help we can do mighty things, and I actually did feel quite mighty last night.
It was SO MUCH FUN! The rain cleared away all the junk in the air, and we kept a perfectly manageable pace, and Forest and some other volunteer coach who was very sweet but whose name I never caught stuck with us three serious newbies... MK, me and a woman named Charlotte...?
And since only about 1/3 of the folks who usually run showed up, we got to feel extra superior, which is always nice.
Anyway, since Adele songs are the best to run to because they keep a steady rhythm throughout, I had Set Fire to the Rain going through my head, while MK had AC/DC's Thunder going through hers.
It was one of the best runs I've ever had. It wasn't easy, and one time when Forest called the 30 second mark, I thought he called time to stop, and I stopped, and then had to start again. That wasn't the most fun ever, but I DID it.
Psalm 60 says with God's help we can do mighty things, and I actually did feel quite mighty last night.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Compassion Project
Okay, after reading the post from this morning and then a chance phone call from my BFF I realized that I am still lacking in compassion for myself.
Tracy said, "Amy, you have asthma -you aren't deficient, you didn't screw up, you have ASTHMA. It isn't your fault you had a tough time last night. You have ASTHMA."
Yes, but...
Well, yes.
But I don't want to have asthma and I hate that I have asthma and it FEELS like a deficiency, like I ought to be able to just power through it. Sometimes, I can. Last night was not one of those nights.
It didn't occur to me to ask Jesus into this problem until a few minutes ago.
So, I am going to come up with a TRUE counterpart to every mean thing I said to myself last night.
:-( "You are an idiot for thinking you could ever run."
:-( "If you had done something differently, you would be able to breathe."
:-( "If you were more focused, the asthma would not effect you so badly."
:-( "You will never be able to keep up."
:-( "You will never be able to do this."
:-( "You should never have thought that someday you would be able to run. You are pretentious and stupid and you ought to just give up now before you look even more stupid."
:-( "You will never get to any of your goals because you will always have asthma and you will always screw it up."
:-( "See, now you're crying, you have no control over your own emotions and you will always be a great big incurable mess."
:-( "You will never have the life you want because you aren't capable of keeping it together long enough to make it happen."
:-( "Stupid, worthless, weak."
Wow, I can be really mean to myself and throw lies around just to be mean.
What is TRUE?
It has been proven objectively that I am not stupid. I have hope that inch by inch I get closer to being the person God created me to be: healthy and happy and loving and kind and compassionate. I have asthma and that is a controllable illness that sometimes flares but it is not a character flaw. I have no control whatsoever on the air quality of my geographic region, no do I get any input as to when the Forestry Service decides to do control burns. On days when my asthma is flaring, I can choose to workout indoors and not tell myself I am being weak. I am allowed to have dreams and even if I do not ever realize them fully, I will learn something and have a fuller life because of them.
I WILL run well one day. The battle does not determine the war.
Tracy said, "Amy, you have asthma -you aren't deficient, you didn't screw up, you have ASTHMA. It isn't your fault you had a tough time last night. You have ASTHMA."
Yes, but...
Well, yes.
But I don't want to have asthma and I hate that I have asthma and it FEELS like a deficiency, like I ought to be able to just power through it. Sometimes, I can. Last night was not one of those nights.
It didn't occur to me to ask Jesus into this problem until a few minutes ago.
So, I am going to come up with a TRUE counterpart to every mean thing I said to myself last night.
:-( "You are an idiot for thinking you could ever run."
:-( "If you had done something differently, you would be able to breathe."
:-( "If you were more focused, the asthma would not effect you so badly."
:-( "You will never be able to keep up."
:-( "You will never be able to do this."
:-( "You should never have thought that someday you would be able to run. You are pretentious and stupid and you ought to just give up now before you look even more stupid."
:-( "You will never get to any of your goals because you will always have asthma and you will always screw it up."
:-( "See, now you're crying, you have no control over your own emotions and you will always be a great big incurable mess."
:-( "You will never have the life you want because you aren't capable of keeping it together long enough to make it happen."
:-( "Stupid, worthless, weak."
Wow, I can be really mean to myself and throw lies around just to be mean.
What is TRUE?
It has been proven objectively that I am not stupid. I have hope that inch by inch I get closer to being the person God created me to be: healthy and happy and loving and kind and compassionate. I have asthma and that is a controllable illness that sometimes flares but it is not a character flaw. I have no control whatsoever on the air quality of my geographic region, no do I get any input as to when the Forestry Service decides to do control burns. On days when my asthma is flaring, I can choose to workout indoors and not tell myself I am being weak. I am allowed to have dreams and even if I do not ever realize them fully, I will learn something and have a fuller life because of them.
I WILL run well one day. The battle does not determine the war.
Giving Up
Yesterday was rather an ugly day at work. I mean, no one was mean to me or anything, just a hugehuge project with an extremely tight deadline was dropped in my lap, and I literally had to push aside every other urgent thing in front of me to manage someone else's project. I wish I could say I did it with good grace. On the outside, I was the consummate professional. On the inside, I was shrieking in a tone only bats could hear.
It did not help matters that I was unable to eat anything until about 4:30. I was positively growly.
I did leave the office at 5:30 and head over to my running class. Here was my state of mind:
Dang it, MK won't be there, and Steph won't be there, and all the really FAST runners WILL be there and I missed last week because of the business trip and DAMN IT THERE IS THAT#$%^&&*^ CONTROL BURN and this sucks and I do not want to be here and I just can't do this and I am all alone and look stupid and I can't just give up and so (Oh, there is Jane, I need to remember to tell her about progress on that project and oh, yeah, I forgot to call Mr. Big, and dang it, I forgot 1234567 different things, and I just want to go home.) I just can't do this tonight.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that whether I think I can or think I can't, I'm right. Pride alone kept me at the track. I could not go back and tell MK I showed up and then left before even trying.
So, we went through the warm-ups, and my lungs felt constricted just during that. A sense of dread began to fill my chest as the first set started. I was wheezing less than a minute into into it.
And I gave up right then. Oh, I still "tried" two more sets, each one worse than the one before. I simply could not catch my breath. I was angry and ashamed -I had done a much harder workout on my own just on Sunday! I walked the 4th set and the coach came up to me, and I just looked at him and said, "I'm done. I'm out." He said, "Hey, you just want to walk around the track, that's cool!"
I could feel the tears welling up, and I said, "Nope, I"m done, I'll see you Thursday at Buffalo Park." He nodded and ran up to join the real runners.
I grabbed my stuff and the tears started immediately. When I got to my car, I started sobbing -a big openmouthed ugly cry. I kept that up through the drive home, letting Roxy out, curling up in bed and just could not stop. I did not know I had it in me to cry for a whole hour nonstop. Then I cried off and on for the rest of the evening. I felt like every time I take two steps forward, I slide three steps back.
I don't know what I could have done differently. I was wired when I got there, which never helps, and feeling weird and alone, but none of those are things I can do much about. My job is high pressure and I'm not good at running yet. Usually getting all sweaty makes me feel better.
But when my lungs refuse to cooperate, all I can do is... nothing.
It did not help matters that I was unable to eat anything until about 4:30. I was positively growly.
I did leave the office at 5:30 and head over to my running class. Here was my state of mind:
Dang it, MK won't be there, and Steph won't be there, and all the really FAST runners WILL be there and I missed last week because of the business trip and DAMN IT THERE IS THAT#$%^&&*^ CONTROL BURN and this sucks and I do not want to be here and I just can't do this and I am all alone and look stupid and I can't just give up and so (Oh, there is Jane, I need to remember to tell her about progress on that project and oh, yeah, I forgot to call Mr. Big, and dang it, I forgot 1234567 different things, and I just want to go home.) I just can't do this tonight.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that whether I think I can or think I can't, I'm right. Pride alone kept me at the track. I could not go back and tell MK I showed up and then left before even trying.
So, we went through the warm-ups, and my lungs felt constricted just during that. A sense of dread began to fill my chest as the first set started. I was wheezing less than a minute into into it.
And I gave up right then. Oh, I still "tried" two more sets, each one worse than the one before. I simply could not catch my breath. I was angry and ashamed -I had done a much harder workout on my own just on Sunday! I walked the 4th set and the coach came up to me, and I just looked at him and said, "I'm done. I'm out." He said, "Hey, you just want to walk around the track, that's cool!"
I could feel the tears welling up, and I said, "Nope, I"m done, I'll see you Thursday at Buffalo Park." He nodded and ran up to join the real runners.
I grabbed my stuff and the tears started immediately. When I got to my car, I started sobbing -a big openmouthed ugly cry. I kept that up through the drive home, letting Roxy out, curling up in bed and just could not stop. I did not know I had it in me to cry for a whole hour nonstop. Then I cried off and on for the rest of the evening. I felt like every time I take two steps forward, I slide three steps back.
I don't know what I could have done differently. I was wired when I got there, which never helps, and feeling weird and alone, but none of those are things I can do much about. My job is high pressure and I'm not good at running yet. Usually getting all sweaty makes me feel better.
But when my lungs refuse to cooperate, all I can do is... nothing.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Wise and Foolish
If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him. James 1:5
When my eyes are watching God, I usually know the right thing to do. Sometimes it isn't pleasant, but still, it is the right thing to do. Mostly, it is rather inconvenient, as following God interrupts the flow of whatever I was getting drenched in.
Yesterday was my first day back at work after being out of town for almost 2 weeks. I spoke to a friend later, pondering, "How does the university stay open when I'm not here??" I hadn't even been on vacation, just working out of town!
Yesterday, my interruptions got interrupted. Various issues flared and last-minute meetings called. i found myself getting wound up and making arbitrary decisions simply because I did not have time to think things through.
On such days, I usually do not make time to eat or get outside. Somewhere around mid-morning, I realized that I did not have the luxury of starving myself because I was meeting my trainer after work, and if I showed up without having fueled properly, I'd be mean to him and probably get sick. So I set reminders on my calendar to eat, so I would be forced to stop what I was doing and acknowledge I'm human and have to eat.
Then, at 5PM, I threw on my workout clothes and walked out the door, leaving a few things unfinished (GASP!) They were still there this morning, proving my theory that no one will sneak in and do my work if I leave it overnight.
God wants me to take good care of myself, which in turn helps me be a better employee, better manager, better friend and sister and volunteer and all the other titles I cherish. This wisdom eluded me for many years, until I asked God for help, and He gave it to me.
When my eyes are watching God, I usually know the right thing to do. Sometimes it isn't pleasant, but still, it is the right thing to do. Mostly, it is rather inconvenient, as following God interrupts the flow of whatever I was getting drenched in.
Yesterday was my first day back at work after being out of town for almost 2 weeks. I spoke to a friend later, pondering, "How does the university stay open when I'm not here??" I hadn't even been on vacation, just working out of town!
Yesterday, my interruptions got interrupted. Various issues flared and last-minute meetings called. i found myself getting wound up and making arbitrary decisions simply because I did not have time to think things through.
On such days, I usually do not make time to eat or get outside. Somewhere around mid-morning, I realized that I did not have the luxury of starving myself because I was meeting my trainer after work, and if I showed up without having fueled properly, I'd be mean to him and probably get sick. So I set reminders on my calendar to eat, so I would be forced to stop what I was doing and acknowledge I'm human and have to eat.
Then, at 5PM, I threw on my workout clothes and walked out the door, leaving a few things unfinished (GASP!) They were still there this morning, proving my theory that no one will sneak in and do my work if I leave it overnight.
God wants me to take good care of myself, which in turn helps me be a better employee, better manager, better friend and sister and volunteer and all the other titles I cherish. This wisdom eluded me for many years, until I asked God for help, and He gave it to me.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Breaking Bad Habits
I have a host of bad habits. I bite my fingernails, ignore bills until they are REALLY REALLY due, fight with people in my head, stew over problems, swear entirely too much, and eat way too much refined sugar. And I am sure there are people in the world who would say that just scratches the surface of my sea of flaws.
Back during the surging days of an eating disorder, I had a terribly unhealthy habit. I would curl up with a book in bed, and eat peanut M&Ms without limit. That is kind of a gauge for me now... when I feel the impulse to curl up in bed and eat unreal amounts of M&Ms, I need an attitude check. That occurred to me the other day when I was curled up in bed, reading a book, and eating an unreal amount of Reeses. I had not done that in YEARS. Hmmm.
On my way to work this morning, I could feel anxiety building in me as I thought of my massive to-do list, the chess game I call my personal finances, some big changes happening, and various expectations others have of me that I would really like to live up to.
As I turned on to the main road leading to my office, I said, right out loud, "STOP! STOP THIS NOW!" The anxiety was starting to chew through the actually joyful attitude I'd held all weekend, actually for the last couple weeks.
I took a deep breath and said, out loud, "Lord Jesus, please enter into this. I don't know how this will all be resolved but You do, and please lead me toward Your solutions, whatever they are. I will not let the demons of worry eat my happiness. Please protect me from my own destructive thoughts, and anyone else's negativity. I am rich in every way. I am healthy. I make good decisions when I keep my eyes on You. With You, there is nothing I can't handle. Thank You for Your love and protection."
I have had to repeat that a couple times as negative thoughts entered my head. Every time I caught them, I just said, "Jesus, please come in to this" and stomped down the negative thought. As the day is progressing... the thoughts are fewer are farther between. God has it all handled. I just have to show up.
Back during the surging days of an eating disorder, I had a terribly unhealthy habit. I would curl up with a book in bed, and eat peanut M&Ms without limit. That is kind of a gauge for me now... when I feel the impulse to curl up in bed and eat unreal amounts of M&Ms, I need an attitude check. That occurred to me the other day when I was curled up in bed, reading a book, and eating an unreal amount of Reeses. I had not done that in YEARS. Hmmm.
On my way to work this morning, I could feel anxiety building in me as I thought of my massive to-do list, the chess game I call my personal finances, some big changes happening, and various expectations others have of me that I would really like to live up to.
As I turned on to the main road leading to my office, I said, right out loud, "STOP! STOP THIS NOW!" The anxiety was starting to chew through the actually joyful attitude I'd held all weekend, actually for the last couple weeks.
I took a deep breath and said, out loud, "Lord Jesus, please enter into this. I don't know how this will all be resolved but You do, and please lead me toward Your solutions, whatever they are. I will not let the demons of worry eat my happiness. Please protect me from my own destructive thoughts, and anyone else's negativity. I am rich in every way. I am healthy. I make good decisions when I keep my eyes on You. With You, there is nothing I can't handle. Thank You for Your love and protection."
I have had to repeat that a couple times as negative thoughts entered my head. Every time I caught them, I just said, "Jesus, please come in to this" and stomped down the negative thought. As the day is progressing... the thoughts are fewer are farther between. God has it all handled. I just have to show up.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Back on Track
Puffy ankles and all, Roxy and I set out for Buffalo Park this morning. Now, realize I have not actually exercised in almost 2 weeks... I was too busy being a tourist and trying to eat up all the seafood in Louisiana. (Hence the puffy ankles, lots of sodium in fried fish and hush puppies!)
SO, I set a modest goal for myself... run one minute, walk two minutes, do the big loop once, plus an extra turn on the small loop. All total, that is about 3 miles.
(Okay, this was a lot longer, but I accidentally deleted 3/4 of this post and couldn't rescue it, so here is the upshot)
I ended up going for the 2min run / 2min walk and finished out that way, carrying Roxy back to the car the last 1/4 mile because she started throwing up. Poor baby, we've never run that far!
There was a song going through my head about how God is with us through every high and every low... and I felt like Jesus was jogging along right there with me, not really saying anything, we were just enjoying each other's company. You know how when you are with an old friend, and after everything is caught up, you just have that lovely companionable silence? It was kind of like that. Even Roxy could tell we weren't running alone. She usually is darting after the other runners or wandering birds, but today she just trotted alongside, enjoying the sunshine.
So, it turned out to be a nice relaxing workout with friends.
SO, I set a modest goal for myself... run one minute, walk two minutes, do the big loop once, plus an extra turn on the small loop. All total, that is about 3 miles.
(Okay, this was a lot longer, but I accidentally deleted 3/4 of this post and couldn't rescue it, so here is the upshot)
I ended up going for the 2min run / 2min walk and finished out that way, carrying Roxy back to the car the last 1/4 mile because she started throwing up. Poor baby, we've never run that far!
There was a song going through my head about how God is with us through every high and every low... and I felt like Jesus was jogging along right there with me, not really saying anything, we were just enjoying each other's company. You know how when you are with an old friend, and after everything is caught up, you just have that lovely companionable silence? It was kind of like that. Even Roxy could tell we weren't running alone. She usually is darting after the other runners or wandering birds, but today she just trotted alongside, enjoying the sunshine.
So, it turned out to be a nice relaxing workout with friends.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Good Touch, Bad Touch
If you know me for me than say, 5 minutes, you will come to know that I do not enjoy being touched by people I don't know. I'm not phobic about it, I just find it unsettling. So, I understand I have a higher-then-average sensitivity and that some people are all touchy-feely and that isn't bad either.
So, last night I was at a business dinner and one man there came up to me during the cocktail hour, stood next to me, and not only simply touched me, but stroked my back. I was nonplussed. Still, I thought I might be oversensitive, so I said nothing. He did it again. Then he made a couple off-color jokes. Then he rubbed the back of my neck. He'd had a few drinks. This continued occasionally over the course of the evening. BTW, I had known him less than half an hour. My breathing got shallow and my stomach felt like lead.
One would expect I would have handed his hands back to him in a bag, but I was so unnerved, I actually could not speak. I replayed it in my head as I tossed in bed later. Was I over-reacting? Was I being too sensitive? Did I do something to attract this attention? I just felt all icky.
This morning, I spoke to a friend who happens to be attending the same conference I am and asked, "Okay, this is what he did" and I demonstrated. Her eyes got big and she said, "No, that was wildly inappropriate. You should tell someone at his company."
I'm still in a bit of a quandry. I can feel the porcupine needles sprouting from my skin and my eyes getting all stony as my inner warrior princess pounds the spearbutt on the ground and shrieks, "I choose who touches me!" No one will likely sit next to me at lunch my shields are up so high.
So, my prayer today is that the love of the Lord be my sword and shield, and that His protection will make my porcupiney-ness unnecessary, and my breathing light and easy.
So, last night I was at a business dinner and one man there came up to me during the cocktail hour, stood next to me, and not only simply touched me, but stroked my back. I was nonplussed. Still, I thought I might be oversensitive, so I said nothing. He did it again. Then he made a couple off-color jokes. Then he rubbed the back of my neck. He'd had a few drinks. This continued occasionally over the course of the evening. BTW, I had known him less than half an hour. My breathing got shallow and my stomach felt like lead.
One would expect I would have handed his hands back to him in a bag, but I was so unnerved, I actually could not speak. I replayed it in my head as I tossed in bed later. Was I over-reacting? Was I being too sensitive? Did I do something to attract this attention? I just felt all icky.
This morning, I spoke to a friend who happens to be attending the same conference I am and asked, "Okay, this is what he did" and I demonstrated. Her eyes got big and she said, "No, that was wildly inappropriate. You should tell someone at his company."
I'm still in a bit of a quandry. I can feel the porcupine needles sprouting from my skin and my eyes getting all stony as my inner warrior princess pounds the spearbutt on the ground and shrieks, "I choose who touches me!" No one will likely sit next to me at lunch my shields are up so high.
So, my prayer today is that the love of the Lord be my sword and shield, and that His protection will make my porcupiney-ness unnecessary, and my breathing light and easy.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Security and Alligators
The world is an insecure place. Jobs are lost, money stolen, bodies break down, natural disasters strike. It is so easy to lose oneself in worry about misfortune, or excessive striving for some sense of security. "I need to check the locks and save more money and work harder and get lots of promotions and raises and live in a low-crime area..."
A person I know actually researched the safest city in the world because she believes her current city has too much crime. Now, nothing has ever happened to her personally, nor to anyone she knows, but she is convinced it will probably happen if she stays where she is. She lives in constant fear and worry. Now, when I start to feel scornful about her choices (I have NEVER EVER chosen a place to live based on crime statistics, and my addresses in "transitional" neighborhoods will back me up!) I remind myself that just because my fear manifests differently, doesn't mean I'm behaving with any greater trust in God.
I do not go into basements by myself. Whenever I enter a room, I scan for exits. I do not like being touched by people I do not know and will sometimes panic just a bit if my hands or feet are constrained or a space is too small. I find certain noises unnerving. I never, ever, ever walk into a dark room alone. My dad, who loves me, realized I was still sleeping with the lights on in law school and when I admitted I left the lights on when I left the house, just in case I got home after dark, he gave me a remote switch so I could turn the lights on from the outside.
As my faith gets stronger, these fears actually do ease and in some cases leave entirely. As I trust more and more that God will keep His promises, I find myself worrying less, needing to take fewer compulsive precautions, being less stressed and more open to possibilities.
I am actually not a fearful person by nature. I'm actually quite adventurous and brave and outspoken and resilient. Feeling safe means my best self can emerge. Feeling safe is exactly that, a feeling, not an objective state of being.
Yesterday my friend Dee and I went on a bayou tour in Lousiana. As the boat stopped under an oak tree swamped with Spanish moss, the water green and murky and flooded with alligators, the guide, a short and powerful man called Lil Lou, called out, "Who here admits they's a candyass?"
My hand whipped into the air. I admit, I'm fearful. Heck, just show me a photo of a small dark room and my breathing gets shallow.
I was the only one to admit it, and the guide laughed. Then he reached into a cooler and whipped out a 2-1/2 ft long baby alligator. The other tourists gasped, and I just grinned and said, "Can I hold it?" The guide laughed again and said, "Really?? The candyass is the one who wants to hold him??" Cracked us up.
In my wonderment in the swamp, I forgot to feel afraid.
This is a fallen world, and wandering about like Pollyanna is not going to serve me well. But in my wonderment of the world, in my wonderment of God, it is good to forget to be afraid.
Paul even reminded Timothy that God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but of power and love and self-control. (2Tim 1:7) so maybe others too sometimes need to be reminded that choosing to fear is not the choice God made for us.
A person I know actually researched the safest city in the world because she believes her current city has too much crime. Now, nothing has ever happened to her personally, nor to anyone she knows, but she is convinced it will probably happen if she stays where she is. She lives in constant fear and worry. Now, when I start to feel scornful about her choices (I have NEVER EVER chosen a place to live based on crime statistics, and my addresses in "transitional" neighborhoods will back me up!) I remind myself that just because my fear manifests differently, doesn't mean I'm behaving with any greater trust in God.
I do not go into basements by myself. Whenever I enter a room, I scan for exits. I do not like being touched by people I do not know and will sometimes panic just a bit if my hands or feet are constrained or a space is too small. I find certain noises unnerving. I never, ever, ever walk into a dark room alone. My dad, who loves me, realized I was still sleeping with the lights on in law school and when I admitted I left the lights on when I left the house, just in case I got home after dark, he gave me a remote switch so I could turn the lights on from the outside.
As my faith gets stronger, these fears actually do ease and in some cases leave entirely. As I trust more and more that God will keep His promises, I find myself worrying less, needing to take fewer compulsive precautions, being less stressed and more open to possibilities.
I am actually not a fearful person by nature. I'm actually quite adventurous and brave and outspoken and resilient. Feeling safe means my best self can emerge. Feeling safe is exactly that, a feeling, not an objective state of being.
Yesterday my friend Dee and I went on a bayou tour in Lousiana. As the boat stopped under an oak tree swamped with Spanish moss, the water green and murky and flooded with alligators, the guide, a short and powerful man called Lil Lou, called out, "Who here admits they's a candyass?"
My hand whipped into the air. I admit, I'm fearful. Heck, just show me a photo of a small dark room and my breathing gets shallow.
I was the only one to admit it, and the guide laughed. Then he reached into a cooler and whipped out a 2-1/2 ft long baby alligator. The other tourists gasped, and I just grinned and said, "Can I hold it?" The guide laughed again and said, "Really?? The candyass is the one who wants to hold him??" Cracked us up.
In my wonderment in the swamp, I forgot to feel afraid.
This is a fallen world, and wandering about like Pollyanna is not going to serve me well. But in my wonderment of the world, in my wonderment of God, it is good to forget to be afraid.
Paul even reminded Timothy that God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but of power and love and self-control. (2Tim 1:7) so maybe others too sometimes need to be reminded that choosing to fear is not the choice God made for us.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Five Acres
It is so easy to get distracted and downhearted when I focus not on the problems actually confronting me, but on the problems that MIGHT confront me, or the problems actually confronting someone else.
I had a conversation with someone last night who was complaining about a colleague and her list of complaints seemed to have a wide variation. At the end, I advised her that since she does not report to that person, and that person has no real effect on her day-to-day existence, that falls outside the five acres she is responsible for. I encouraged her to refocus on her own responsibilities.
I can do that, too, though. As I rub along through life, I do get distracted by the people around me struggling with difficult or dissolving marriages, relationships that are not sustainable, unhappy work environments, and like most people, wish there was something I could do to help. Worrying on their behalf, however, never does seem to help. Being stressed in solidarity does not make others less stressed out.
I read a story a few years ago about a person who worked in an extremely poor area marked by violence, and every night as he left the settlement house, he prayed, "Lord, please help all these people. These are not my people, these are Your people, and You can protect them all better than I can." It was his way of acknowledging that he is not a messiah.
It is important to offer help and support, but equally important to know that salvation for anyone from anything, comes from God alone.
I had a conversation with someone last night who was complaining about a colleague and her list of complaints seemed to have a wide variation. At the end, I advised her that since she does not report to that person, and that person has no real effect on her day-to-day existence, that falls outside the five acres she is responsible for. I encouraged her to refocus on her own responsibilities.
I can do that, too, though. As I rub along through life, I do get distracted by the people around me struggling with difficult or dissolving marriages, relationships that are not sustainable, unhappy work environments, and like most people, wish there was something I could do to help. Worrying on their behalf, however, never does seem to help. Being stressed in solidarity does not make others less stressed out.
I read a story a few years ago about a person who worked in an extremely poor area marked by violence, and every night as he left the settlement house, he prayed, "Lord, please help all these people. These are not my people, these are Your people, and You can protect them all better than I can." It was his way of acknowledging that he is not a messiah.
It is important to offer help and support, but equally important to know that salvation for anyone from anything, comes from God alone.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
delight and joy
I did not realize how very tired I was until I left town and headed to the swamp.
This past month, I spent almost every spare moment sleeping, and yet always seemed tired. I did not realize it wasn't my body that was tired nearly so much as my head and my heart until I had a few days with a dear friend, and we talked about nothing particularly deep, and I got to hold an alligator.
Sometimes, the only way to refresh a tired soul is to give it something new to encounter.
I've spent the past year and a half dealing with some really heavy stuff, and recent events in my family caused another muddy swirl of digging up old issues. This is emotionally exhausting work when you actually take it on and don't just pretend Everything Is Fine. This path leads to joy, but sometimes it feels like a slippery climb.
My normal way to take a few days off is to either stay home and sleep the entire time, or go somewhere and pack in a ton of stuff to see and do and experience. This time, I went to Louisiana to visit a friend, and we actually, you know, relaxed and ate well and fit in a few fun and easy touristy things like going on a swamp tour which involved holding baby alligators. That was pretty cool.
We talked about life stuff, but nothing particularly deep, and I found I was quite content to just let everything be -without constant analysis or rethinking or finding hidden meaning or creating a higher level of existence. My mind finally found a place to rest somewhere between ghost stories at a haunted mansion and listening to a tour guide sing "Desperado" while playing a 100+ yr old Steinway at a plantation dating from the 1700s.
Delight may not be quite the same as joy, but it is a lovely place to take a nap on the way there.
This past month, I spent almost every spare moment sleeping, and yet always seemed tired. I did not realize it wasn't my body that was tired nearly so much as my head and my heart until I had a few days with a dear friend, and we talked about nothing particularly deep, and I got to hold an alligator.
Sometimes, the only way to refresh a tired soul is to give it something new to encounter.
I've spent the past year and a half dealing with some really heavy stuff, and recent events in my family caused another muddy swirl of digging up old issues. This is emotionally exhausting work when you actually take it on and don't just pretend Everything Is Fine. This path leads to joy, but sometimes it feels like a slippery climb.
My normal way to take a few days off is to either stay home and sleep the entire time, or go somewhere and pack in a ton of stuff to see and do and experience. This time, I went to Louisiana to visit a friend, and we actually, you know, relaxed and ate well and fit in a few fun and easy touristy things like going on a swamp tour which involved holding baby alligators. That was pretty cool.
We talked about life stuff, but nothing particularly deep, and I found I was quite content to just let everything be -without constant analysis or rethinking or finding hidden meaning or creating a higher level of existence. My mind finally found a place to rest somewhere between ghost stories at a haunted mansion and listening to a tour guide sing "Desperado" while playing a 100+ yr old Steinway at a plantation dating from the 1700s.
Delight may not be quite the same as joy, but it is a lovely place to take a nap on the way there.
Monday, October 1, 2012
His Grace is Enough... really???
My friend Betsy, who is awesome, shared a story recently to give me some hope. She is well aware of how freakin tired I am of being alone, as in un-coupled, not as in a dramatic, "I am all alone in the world..." Anyway, she shared the story of a friend who was praying and asked God that if He wanted her to be single the rest of her life, she was okay with that, but to give her a sign. The very next day she met the man who eventually became her husband.
So I repeated my plea, Lord, my life is Yours, but I am tired of being alone and really, what do you want??? and opened up my book of daily meditations, and there was the answer: "My Grace is sufficient for you."
Oh, hell, no! I slammed the book shut and mentally stomped off to fume. NOT the answer I wanted on any level. I shared that with Betsy at a soccer game later, and we both laughed.
Okay, so, God doesn't just tell me what I want to hear. FINE!
Still, over the past couple weeks since that discussion, I have been getting the repeated message that His Grace is enough.
No matter where I put the emphasis on the words in that sentence, it rings true, if I can accept it.
One of the ideas that has been repeated consistently lately is the knowledge that coming into my own identity meant the sloughing off of identities that simply weren't true. One of these has been that much of my identity has been through other people -my mother's daughter, my brothers' sister, my friends' friend, my boss's downline staff, etc. When I decided to figure out who I was, without anyone else's definition of me being the guideline, I realized quickly that I had accepted that my VALUE was through my human relationships and from being useful to them, and NOT needy, ever, not by simply being a child of God, belonging to Christ.
That is actually defining myself through a relationship, I know, but I'm strangely okay with that. We all have to belong somewhere, and at least God actually knows me and He does not care how needy I get. And I'm learning new things about myself all the time, like how I like my eggs cooked, and that I am freakishly strong for a woman, and that my favorite color is all of them.
And I am slowly, painstakingly learning that His Grace is, in fact, sufficient for me, because who I am is sufficient for Him. He does not measure me by my productivity or my usefulness, but by His own Love for me, Who loved me into existence and Whose great Love nourishes and heals all.
So I repeated my plea, Lord, my life is Yours, but I am tired of being alone and really, what do you want??? and opened up my book of daily meditations, and there was the answer: "My Grace is sufficient for you."
Oh, hell, no! I slammed the book shut and mentally stomped off to fume. NOT the answer I wanted on any level. I shared that with Betsy at a soccer game later, and we both laughed.
Okay, so, God doesn't just tell me what I want to hear. FINE!
Still, over the past couple weeks since that discussion, I have been getting the repeated message that His Grace is enough.
No matter where I put the emphasis on the words in that sentence, it rings true, if I can accept it.
One of the ideas that has been repeated consistently lately is the knowledge that coming into my own identity meant the sloughing off of identities that simply weren't true. One of these has been that much of my identity has been through other people -my mother's daughter, my brothers' sister, my friends' friend, my boss's downline staff, etc. When I decided to figure out who I was, without anyone else's definition of me being the guideline, I realized quickly that I had accepted that my VALUE was through my human relationships and from being useful to them, and NOT needy, ever, not by simply being a child of God, belonging to Christ.
That is actually defining myself through a relationship, I know, but I'm strangely okay with that. We all have to belong somewhere, and at least God actually knows me and He does not care how needy I get. And I'm learning new things about myself all the time, like how I like my eggs cooked, and that I am freakishly strong for a woman, and that my favorite color is all of them.
And I am slowly, painstakingly learning that His Grace is, in fact, sufficient for me, because who I am is sufficient for Him. He does not measure me by my productivity or my usefulness, but by His own Love for me, Who loved me into existence and Whose great Love nourishes and heals all.
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