I went on a walk not too long ago and on the way back to my house came across some snails. I've always been partial to snails. They're small, slow, and cute in an invertebrate kind of way. As I carefully went around them I realized that they, like most everything in the world, seems to have been created with a purpose. In a snails case they help control algae in ponds and recycle organic matter. They also provide food for birds. They have a purpose. Then I began to wonder about other creatures. Do they all have a purpose as well? And if so, how simple it must be to be created with an inherrent feeling of what one must do with their life. But what about me?
For a moment I thought how lucky all the world's creations were being able to just exist and know what your purpose was. Then I began to realize how unique we as human beings were as well. We are born into the world as blank slates. We spend countles syears learning how to care for ourselves and even more trying to figure out what to do with ourselves. We are often frustrated by that fact. I know I have been more than my share of times. And it can be aggravating feeling like you're lost or like you haven't reached that point in your life when you know what you'll be when you're grown up. But if we just looked at it from a different perspective it can just as easily be a blessing.
We are free to be whatever we want. We are able and allowed to make choices for ourselves every minute of the day. We may not always want to make them or even like the choices we are given but they are ours and no one can take that away from us. I won't pretend to understand the secrets of our universe. I don't know why our planet allowed us to develop into creatures of more thought than instinct but it has and I am grateful. I appreciate all the things that keep our world in balance. I have learned to value the rocks in the earth as much as the trees, wild animals, and humans in it. That being said, it could be that the stability of all the other things in the world allows us humans to be so free.
I won't pretend to know things so much grander than myself. Nor will I pretend that everyone reading this will necessarily agree with me. I just know that from the doorstep where I started I went out for a brisk walk to get my blood going because that was my choice. And on my way back came across some quiet snails dutifully going about their business, whatever that may be. So by the time I came to where my sidewalk ended I had a lighter step due to the realization that by simply being me I was unique. And for that, I am also grateful.
May your days be filled with joy and love
And all life's blessings from above.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
To Your Health
Health has always been a big issue for me. I believe that we should all strive to be in the best physical, mental, and emotional health we can be in. I have spent much time and effort working on those areas of my life and, for me, when I am off balance in one of those categories the others seem to suffer as well. Sometimes there is very little you can do to stay as healthy and positive as you'd like to. In my case, one of those obstacles to health is my IBS.
IBS stands for irritable bowel syndrome. Seems pretty self explanatory, right? It can be depending on the severity of each persons symptoms. IBS can cause gas, bloating, cramping, and extreme bowel issues such as going too frequently to not being able to go at all. And yes, these all effect me. Unfortunately when I get these symptoms they can reach such an extreme that I can be confined to my bed due to the pain.
Why do I bring this up? Sure, it's a personal issue. It's not something I like to explain to people as I am a kind of quiet and prudish person when it comes to certain topics. But after another episode of IBS I realize that to not address it does me and others a diservice. How? That's what you're here to find out.
I exercise 6-7 days a week. I eat fairly healthy and practice stress management. So when I ended up taking a family member to the ER the other night and stayed there for several hours by their side I thought nothing of it. I had a snack and something to drink while I was there. I nodded off now and again in their horribly uncomfortable chairs. I stayed as long as I could until I began to feel pain. My intestines were cramping and beginning to make it difficult to stay. And I was exhausted. So I came home and slept for a few hours before going back to the hospital. I went to the hospital later and by the time I came home felt horrid. Throughout the day the cramping became so severe it felt like someone was stabbing me from the front and through my back. My stomach was so bloated I couldn't wear regular clothes and stayed in pajamas. And that's when the yelling and even crying ensued. I called in to work knowing that being sick AGAIN was going to look bad. But this is my life sometimes and I do the best I can.
I have come to realize that very little is known about IBS by the general public. People think it involves strictly issues with going to the restroom. The severity escapes them. And not all people have such severe symptoms. Lucky bastards. But my life has been drastically affected by it. I have been let go from jobs, missed social engagements, and at my worst been bed ridden by the pain for a month while I slowly lost up to 30 pounds due to my inability to eat anything.
I was diagnosed in December of 2010. I take medication daily to control the acid reflux that always seemed to trigger my episodes. And other than that I do the best I can to stay as healthy as possibly. But sometimes stress takes a toll on me. Or a change in my routine. Or maybe my body just felt like kicking my ass for a day. Who knows. All I can do is the best I can by taking care of myself and by informing you about what it's like to live with something that can not be cured, only managed. So be patient with me, where my health is concerned, I'm getting there
*A Note To The Reader: the family member aforementioned is still in the hospital and awaiting surgery. Needless to say my love is with him and hopefully your prayers.
IBS stands for irritable bowel syndrome. Seems pretty self explanatory, right? It can be depending on the severity of each persons symptoms. IBS can cause gas, bloating, cramping, and extreme bowel issues such as going too frequently to not being able to go at all. And yes, these all effect me. Unfortunately when I get these symptoms they can reach such an extreme that I can be confined to my bed due to the pain.
Why do I bring this up? Sure, it's a personal issue. It's not something I like to explain to people as I am a kind of quiet and prudish person when it comes to certain topics. But after another episode of IBS I realize that to not address it does me and others a diservice. How? That's what you're here to find out.
I exercise 6-7 days a week. I eat fairly healthy and practice stress management. So when I ended up taking a family member to the ER the other night and stayed there for several hours by their side I thought nothing of it. I had a snack and something to drink while I was there. I nodded off now and again in their horribly uncomfortable chairs. I stayed as long as I could until I began to feel pain. My intestines were cramping and beginning to make it difficult to stay. And I was exhausted. So I came home and slept for a few hours before going back to the hospital. I went to the hospital later and by the time I came home felt horrid. Throughout the day the cramping became so severe it felt like someone was stabbing me from the front and through my back. My stomach was so bloated I couldn't wear regular clothes and stayed in pajamas. And that's when the yelling and even crying ensued. I called in to work knowing that being sick AGAIN was going to look bad. But this is my life sometimes and I do the best I can.
I have come to realize that very little is known about IBS by the general public. People think it involves strictly issues with going to the restroom. The severity escapes them. And not all people have such severe symptoms. Lucky bastards. But my life has been drastically affected by it. I have been let go from jobs, missed social engagements, and at my worst been bed ridden by the pain for a month while I slowly lost up to 30 pounds due to my inability to eat anything.
I was diagnosed in December of 2010. I take medication daily to control the acid reflux that always seemed to trigger my episodes. And other than that I do the best I can to stay as healthy as possibly. But sometimes stress takes a toll on me. Or a change in my routine. Or maybe my body just felt like kicking my ass for a day. Who knows. All I can do is the best I can by taking care of myself and by informing you about what it's like to live with something that can not be cured, only managed. So be patient with me, where my health is concerned, I'm getting there
*A Note To The Reader: the family member aforementioned is still in the hospital and awaiting surgery. Needless to say my love is with him and hopefully your prayers.
Friday, May 4, 2012
The Law Of Attraction
I know we have all heard that opposites attract. What I have never thought about was why. I can't say I would have given it much though until it was recently discussed at a service I attended.
The idea was that we all have "holes" in us. When we come across someone who has their own "holes" yet can fill ours, and vice versa, we are drawn to that person. They help make us feel complete. But what happens as time wears on and we find that we can fill the void ourselves? We are no longer dependant on the other person to fulfill us. If our partner does not fulfill their void as quickly as we do we become annoyed, intolerant, and realize that we have grown apart from that person. Not so much from anything the other person did but because of what they didn't do. They didn't grow up. They didn't change.
Being a married woman I understood this in some sense. My husband and I are far from opposite. We are different enough to keep each other interested and guessing but smilar enough to enjoy so many of the same things. But that was not always the case in every relationship I had. What really came to mind when this whole idea of "opposites" and "voids" came up were two dear friends I had ages ago.
When I was younger I had two best friends. I couldn't explain the closeness of the relationship for anything in the world. It was like being involved with someone. Or two someones as the case was. We were always together and so connected that the idea of one of us automatically brought up the idea of the other two. This kind of relationship was all fine and well through high school but once school was over what happens to many friendships happened to us. We fell apart. Who's to say why or when but it did and I was devestated from it. I felt empty, lonely, like I had a hole in my heart. And that feeling lasted for years. With time and age the hurt healed but not until I realized that I became a very quiet and introverted human being. I was less trusting, less affectionate, and had less of a desire to be friends with anyone. I had short lived friendships with people and dated men who were clearly not right for me. It was good times (insert sarcasm).
Being introverted I can honestly say that I know my faults and work on them regularly. That's just part of being in your own head so often. So I knew who I wanted to be the question was how long was it going to take to get there. Over the next six years after high school I went through the anger of feeling abandoned, the sadness, then the acceptance. And when time somehow managed to bring me into contact with them again I realized that the loss I had mourned for so long was no longer necessary. We three were no longer who we once were. How could we be with so much time passing between us? And I no longer felt so betrayed. I realized that our time together had run its course and that we got the best we could out of one another at a time when we needed each other most. And I will always be thankful for that. So where did that epiphany leave me?
About five or six years out of high school I met my husband. At the time when he met me I was a lot more secure with who I was and what I wanted. I can probably thank my experience with my old friends for that. I no longer needed the holes I had in me filled by anyone. I was content on filling myself up with all the goodness I could find. Even if it was, at times, hard to come by. So I wasn't looking for an oppostite to fulfill me or someone who needed me for the same. I had found someone I complimented. And maybe that's the lesson to take away from those excruciatingly bad times we have in life. That there are things that will happen to us and they can either break us or we can learn to bend to them. To give in a little and accept the things we are given, good or bad. When I say bend I do not mean to let the world walk all over you but to allow yourself to be more flexible so that when lifes problems are done running you over you can pick yourself back up again. You'll be the straight and intact branch you were to begin with. A branch in the wind, that's what we all should be. I was not a branch. I fought with every ounce of me to keep what I thought I had. I broke. But people can mend and I did. We all can.
I am now a woman who tries to socialize more. Someone who tries not to groan when her husband asks if she wants to go have drinks with a co-worker of his. A woman who asks her own co-worker to chat over dinner. I still feel more secure with my head in a book and will always be more comfortable spending the night in with my family but now it feels like it's more of a choice than an attempt to hide. So yes, opposites may attract, but thankfully I didn't attract my opposite. I attracted my equal.
In this case ladies and gentleman, I got there.
The idea was that we all have "holes" in us. When we come across someone who has their own "holes" yet can fill ours, and vice versa, we are drawn to that person. They help make us feel complete. But what happens as time wears on and we find that we can fill the void ourselves? We are no longer dependant on the other person to fulfill us. If our partner does not fulfill their void as quickly as we do we become annoyed, intolerant, and realize that we have grown apart from that person. Not so much from anything the other person did but because of what they didn't do. They didn't grow up. They didn't change.
Being a married woman I understood this in some sense. My husband and I are far from opposite. We are different enough to keep each other interested and guessing but smilar enough to enjoy so many of the same things. But that was not always the case in every relationship I had. What really came to mind when this whole idea of "opposites" and "voids" came up were two dear friends I had ages ago.
When I was younger I had two best friends. I couldn't explain the closeness of the relationship for anything in the world. It was like being involved with someone. Or two someones as the case was. We were always together and so connected that the idea of one of us automatically brought up the idea of the other two. This kind of relationship was all fine and well through high school but once school was over what happens to many friendships happened to us. We fell apart. Who's to say why or when but it did and I was devestated from it. I felt empty, lonely, like I had a hole in my heart. And that feeling lasted for years. With time and age the hurt healed but not until I realized that I became a very quiet and introverted human being. I was less trusting, less affectionate, and had less of a desire to be friends with anyone. I had short lived friendships with people and dated men who were clearly not right for me. It was good times (insert sarcasm).
Being introverted I can honestly say that I know my faults and work on them regularly. That's just part of being in your own head so often. So I knew who I wanted to be the question was how long was it going to take to get there. Over the next six years after high school I went through the anger of feeling abandoned, the sadness, then the acceptance. And when time somehow managed to bring me into contact with them again I realized that the loss I had mourned for so long was no longer necessary. We three were no longer who we once were. How could we be with so much time passing between us? And I no longer felt so betrayed. I realized that our time together had run its course and that we got the best we could out of one another at a time when we needed each other most. And I will always be thankful for that. So where did that epiphany leave me?
About five or six years out of high school I met my husband. At the time when he met me I was a lot more secure with who I was and what I wanted. I can probably thank my experience with my old friends for that. I no longer needed the holes I had in me filled by anyone. I was content on filling myself up with all the goodness I could find. Even if it was, at times, hard to come by. So I wasn't looking for an oppostite to fulfill me or someone who needed me for the same. I had found someone I complimented. And maybe that's the lesson to take away from those excruciatingly bad times we have in life. That there are things that will happen to us and they can either break us or we can learn to bend to them. To give in a little and accept the things we are given, good or bad. When I say bend I do not mean to let the world walk all over you but to allow yourself to be more flexible so that when lifes problems are done running you over you can pick yourself back up again. You'll be the straight and intact branch you were to begin with. A branch in the wind, that's what we all should be. I was not a branch. I fought with every ounce of me to keep what I thought I had. I broke. But people can mend and I did. We all can.
I am now a woman who tries to socialize more. Someone who tries not to groan when her husband asks if she wants to go have drinks with a co-worker of his. A woman who asks her own co-worker to chat over dinner. I still feel more secure with my head in a book and will always be more comfortable spending the night in with my family but now it feels like it's more of a choice than an attempt to hide. So yes, opposites may attract, but thankfully I didn't attract my opposite. I attracted my equal.
In this case ladies and gentleman, I got there.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Two Halves/One Whole
I am not a religious person. I am a spritual person. I know that there are people who find this to be a
wishy-washy way of saying that I believe in something but don't know what it is. That is not the case with me. I know exactly what I believe in and have never wavered from that but I also find that organized religion is not for me. I am not the "follower" type. I do acknowledge the fact that there are people who have spent their life studying their religion and dedicating themselves to those beliefs in order to share that knowledge with others. Pastors, Priestesses, Monks, etc. their faith is a way of life and I respect that. That is why I attend worship services of one kind or another during the week. I believe that these people may be able to shed some light on what it means to be a better person.
I know, how can I claim to not be a follower yet attend prayer services. I have an even better question for you...how can I comfortably attend a Sunday service at the local church yet also feel at home at a worship service for those of a less mainstream faith? I know I may seem vague but it is in my experience that the world does not take too kindly to those that seem different. My spiritual views are "different" so bear with me as I attempt to get my point across without somehow offending someone.
I was raised Catholic. I never agreed with it but it was part of my parents Sacraments to raise me as such and they did. Once I completed Confirmation I was done with the church. The church took several years of my life and regardless of what I believe the religion was so instilled in me that I ended up having both of my children Baptised out of respect for my parents. I also find myself seated in a pew, alone, every Sunday morning listening to the Pastors sermon while my girls are in Sunday school. I do not ask that my husband go as I know he would not want to. I am completely content absorbing what the Pastor has to teach me and find it is always relevant to my life.
As I grew older I began to realize that I had a more polytheistic point of view. That is what has stuck with me after all these years which is why I find myself seated in a worship circle most Wednesdays giving my thanks and prayers to a different higher power. During these lessons I listen closely to what the Priestess has to say and find that, once again, it all relates to my life.
As I am not the center of the universe I realize that these are not lessons solely for me but life lessons each of us needs to learn. How to be humble, how to love one's self, how to be brave, and so on. They are things that I am hoping to make a part of my self so I can one day become the woman I hope to be.
It may seem strange. Maybe it doesn't. I don't know. What I do know is that I am a product of my parents and of my own experiences. So all those years I spent in turmoil (I'll save that for another day) was because of my desire to seperate who I wanted to be and who I already was. Once the wisdom of age crept upon me I began to see that in order to be whole I needed to make amends with these two halves I created. So here I am willing to listen and to learn as we all should be.
Don't take this blog as a request for you to find a faith. Take it as a request to find yourself. If you already have then kudos for you, you are a lucky person. If you have not then I recommend you begin today as there is no guarantee for a tomorrow. By tomorrow I hope to be slightly more at peace with myself then I am today. I may not have found that zen place but, drum roll please, I am getting there.
wishy-washy way of saying that I believe in something but don't know what it is. That is not the case with me. I know exactly what I believe in and have never wavered from that but I also find that organized religion is not for me. I am not the "follower" type. I do acknowledge the fact that there are people who have spent their life studying their religion and dedicating themselves to those beliefs in order to share that knowledge with others. Pastors, Priestesses, Monks, etc. their faith is a way of life and I respect that. That is why I attend worship services of one kind or another during the week. I believe that these people may be able to shed some light on what it means to be a better person.
I know, how can I claim to not be a follower yet attend prayer services. I have an even better question for you...how can I comfortably attend a Sunday service at the local church yet also feel at home at a worship service for those of a less mainstream faith? I know I may seem vague but it is in my experience that the world does not take too kindly to those that seem different. My spiritual views are "different" so bear with me as I attempt to get my point across without somehow offending someone.
I was raised Catholic. I never agreed with it but it was part of my parents Sacraments to raise me as such and they did. Once I completed Confirmation I was done with the church. The church took several years of my life and regardless of what I believe the religion was so instilled in me that I ended up having both of my children Baptised out of respect for my parents. I also find myself seated in a pew, alone, every Sunday morning listening to the Pastors sermon while my girls are in Sunday school. I do not ask that my husband go as I know he would not want to. I am completely content absorbing what the Pastor has to teach me and find it is always relevant to my life.
As I grew older I began to realize that I had a more polytheistic point of view. That is what has stuck with me after all these years which is why I find myself seated in a worship circle most Wednesdays giving my thanks and prayers to a different higher power. During these lessons I listen closely to what the Priestess has to say and find that, once again, it all relates to my life.
As I am not the center of the universe I realize that these are not lessons solely for me but life lessons each of us needs to learn. How to be humble, how to love one's self, how to be brave, and so on. They are things that I am hoping to make a part of my self so I can one day become the woman I hope to be.
It may seem strange. Maybe it doesn't. I don't know. What I do know is that I am a product of my parents and of my own experiences. So all those years I spent in turmoil (I'll save that for another day) was because of my desire to seperate who I wanted to be and who I already was. Once the wisdom of age crept upon me I began to see that in order to be whole I needed to make amends with these two halves I created. So here I am willing to listen and to learn as we all should be.
Don't take this blog as a request for you to find a faith. Take it as a request to find yourself. If you already have then kudos for you, you are a lucky person. If you have not then I recommend you begin today as there is no guarantee for a tomorrow. By tomorrow I hope to be slightly more at peace with myself then I am today. I may not have found that zen place but, drum roll please, I am getting there.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
There and Back Again
Working out has been an obsession with me for some time. It probably happened after I ended up gaining weight over the course of a year. I began working out at home and did so almost nightly but found that although my body seemed to be gaining endurance I wasn't actually losing any weight. With help I finally ended up joining a gym. When you join they weigh you, measure you, etc. so they can then begin keeping track of your progress monthly. After my first month I lost virtually no weight yet had lost several inches all around. I guess you take things where you can get them, right? So that's where I am now. Two weeks into month two and pretty much still at the same weight. It can be a bit frustrating until something comes along and shows you just how awesome you really are.
I just got back from a four day trip to Napa Valley with my husband. We had the most amazing time and enjoyed every minute of each other's company. It was in Napa that I found out a thing or two about myself. One, a wine does exist that I don't mind drinking. Two, there are places in California that are still breathtaking and although inhabited by man still treated with great love and respect. And three, I am in great shape, scale be damned. It is this last point that I will be talking about.
On our third day in Napa my husband and I rented some mountain bikes to go riding through the valley where we would stop along the way for some wine tastings. We started around 11am happily peddling along the trails and hills stopping for a basket of strawberries here, and taste of wine there. We enjoyed our lunch at one of the wineries overlooking a vast orachard and listening to the birds sing. Just as content as can be. The whole day went much the same. Peddling, wine tasting, peddling, photo ops, peddling, shopping, etc. My husband asked when I wanted to turn around and I said we should go until we reach the last winery on our map then head back. And that's exactly what we did. There were some large hills along the way. Our very first one kicked my ass, excuse my language, causing me to get off the blasted bike and walk it up the hill like a namby pamby. So when we reached our next one I was determined to get over the horrid thing without copping out. My husband was ahead of me and didn't seem to have gotten enough momentum as he began going up so I saw him getting off his bike to walk it just as I did previously. I saw all this before passing him with a determined look on my face and sweat coming out of me. I continued to peddle while staring straight down at my legs as if willing them to keep going until I could no longer feel myself at an incline. That was when I pulled to the side and waiting for my dear husband who only moments ago I was more than happy to leave in my dust. He graciously forgave me for leaving him behind after laughing at my desire to "beat" the hill. And with a high five we were on our way.
Most of the ride was an easy trek but there were difficult places where I could have either walked it, which I don't think anyone would have faulted me for, or peddled through it. And although my legs burned, I sweated and my breathing was hard I chose to push though it. And in the end I was given the most amazing gift of knowing that I rode over 20 miles that day. Me, someone who has ridden their own bike all of once in the past year. Me, who seems to think the weight on the scale is a sign of the shape that I am in. And the same me who by the last mile wanted desperately to get off the butt numbing bicycle seat and walk back to the damn hotel but didn't just so I could show myself that I wasn't a quitter. I did all that. And I was proud of myself.
We all have moments where we forget just how wonderful we are. How unique in our own biology we are already made to be. Some of us, like myself, forget that for much longer than a moment. I do not have the same body I did as a teenager. That does not mean that I have given up on wanting that, vanity always was a vice of mine, but that also doesn't mean that I have to dislike who I am now. This is the body that has allowed me to bear two children. This is the body that takes me to the gym six days a week before anyone in the house is even awake. And this is the body that rode over 20 miles of beautiful landscape and gladly called it a vacation. So although my goal may be to look a certain way I will try and learn to be happy and thankful for who I am now.
My "getting there" is this...I may not yet look how I want to look and I may not always remember to love myself along the way, but thanks to a mountain bike and an adoring husband, I am getting there.
I just got back from a four day trip to Napa Valley with my husband. We had the most amazing time and enjoyed every minute of each other's company. It was in Napa that I found out a thing or two about myself. One, a wine does exist that I don't mind drinking. Two, there are places in California that are still breathtaking and although inhabited by man still treated with great love and respect. And three, I am in great shape, scale be damned. It is this last point that I will be talking about.
On our third day in Napa my husband and I rented some mountain bikes to go riding through the valley where we would stop along the way for some wine tastings. We started around 11am happily peddling along the trails and hills stopping for a basket of strawberries here, and taste of wine there. We enjoyed our lunch at one of the wineries overlooking a vast orachard and listening to the birds sing. Just as content as can be. The whole day went much the same. Peddling, wine tasting, peddling, photo ops, peddling, shopping, etc. My husband asked when I wanted to turn around and I said we should go until we reach the last winery on our map then head back. And that's exactly what we did. There were some large hills along the way. Our very first one kicked my ass, excuse my language, causing me to get off the blasted bike and walk it up the hill like a namby pamby. So when we reached our next one I was determined to get over the horrid thing without copping out. My husband was ahead of me and didn't seem to have gotten enough momentum as he began going up so I saw him getting off his bike to walk it just as I did previously. I saw all this before passing him with a determined look on my face and sweat coming out of me. I continued to peddle while staring straight down at my legs as if willing them to keep going until I could no longer feel myself at an incline. That was when I pulled to the side and waiting for my dear husband who only moments ago I was more than happy to leave in my dust. He graciously forgave me for leaving him behind after laughing at my desire to "beat" the hill. And with a high five we were on our way.
Most of the ride was an easy trek but there were difficult places where I could have either walked it, which I don't think anyone would have faulted me for, or peddled through it. And although my legs burned, I sweated and my breathing was hard I chose to push though it. And in the end I was given the most amazing gift of knowing that I rode over 20 miles that day. Me, someone who has ridden their own bike all of once in the past year. Me, who seems to think the weight on the scale is a sign of the shape that I am in. And the same me who by the last mile wanted desperately to get off the butt numbing bicycle seat and walk back to the damn hotel but didn't just so I could show myself that I wasn't a quitter. I did all that. And I was proud of myself.
We all have moments where we forget just how wonderful we are. How unique in our own biology we are already made to be. Some of us, like myself, forget that for much longer than a moment. I do not have the same body I did as a teenager. That does not mean that I have given up on wanting that, vanity always was a vice of mine, but that also doesn't mean that I have to dislike who I am now. This is the body that has allowed me to bear two children. This is the body that takes me to the gym six days a week before anyone in the house is even awake. And this is the body that rode over 20 miles of beautiful landscape and gladly called it a vacation. So although my goal may be to look a certain way I will try and learn to be happy and thankful for who I am now.
My "getting there" is this...I may not yet look how I want to look and I may not always remember to love myself along the way, but thanks to a mountain bike and an adoring husband, I am getting there.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Walks and Talks
At this very moment I am enjoying a warm fire and Frank Sinatra's voice playing through the speakers in the lounge of a lovely inn in Napa Valley. My husband has gone to pour himself a glass of wine and I am warming up from the walk we took into downtown. Life is good.
My stomach is pleasantly full from a delicious dinner and my brain has plenty of images to pull up from our walk back to our rooms. Houses here remind me of the ones in Massachusets. They are old and full of character. Trees grow to mammoth proportions in front yards and their roots become so large it seems that the Earth below cannot hold them so they come up right through the sidewalks for some much needed air.
As we walked we talked, as best friends tend do, about how we wish we could have this house or that property. We see people walking their pure bred pups and all the trendy restaurants, some of which we steer clear of, commenting on their prices. Then it comes to me. We have made the same mistake that many people have. We have fallen into the trap of wanting that American Dream. Wanting it so badly that there are times we are unhappy with our own lives. It seems that desiring more only makes us blind to what we already have. So as we walk along I tell him that we should make each other a deal. We should let it all go. Instead of thinking about what we don't have we begin to appreciate what we do. And not only sometimes, but every day, all day. And if there is more we desire then we look at it as a goal we can and will achieve over time and through hard work. Yes, I want a big house with a green lawn, a big yard, a picket white fence, and the family dog. No, I don't have that. But what I do have is a husband who adores me, children who are the sun, moon, and stars to me. And family, all of which are nearby, who love me. I have all that I need and so much more.
I'm by no means perfect. There will be times when money, or the lack there of, will upset me. Frustrate me. But when it does I'll be sure to remind myself how damn lucky I am to be here and have what I have. As for the house, lawn, and dog. I'm getting there.
My stomach is pleasantly full from a delicious dinner and my brain has plenty of images to pull up from our walk back to our rooms. Houses here remind me of the ones in Massachusets. They are old and full of character. Trees grow to mammoth proportions in front yards and their roots become so large it seems that the Earth below cannot hold them so they come up right through the sidewalks for some much needed air.
As we walked we talked, as best friends tend do, about how we wish we could have this house or that property. We see people walking their pure bred pups and all the trendy restaurants, some of which we steer clear of, commenting on their prices. Then it comes to me. We have made the same mistake that many people have. We have fallen into the trap of wanting that American Dream. Wanting it so badly that there are times we are unhappy with our own lives. It seems that desiring more only makes us blind to what we already have. So as we walk along I tell him that we should make each other a deal. We should let it all go. Instead of thinking about what we don't have we begin to appreciate what we do. And not only sometimes, but every day, all day. And if there is more we desire then we look at it as a goal we can and will achieve over time and through hard work. Yes, I want a big house with a green lawn, a big yard, a picket white fence, and the family dog. No, I don't have that. But what I do have is a husband who adores me, children who are the sun, moon, and stars to me. And family, all of which are nearby, who love me. I have all that I need and so much more.
I'm by no means perfect. There will be times when money, or the lack there of, will upset me. Frustrate me. But when it does I'll be sure to remind myself how damn lucky I am to be here and have what I have. As for the house, lawn, and dog. I'm getting there.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Life Lessons and A Bike
First, let me begin by explaining why I chose the blog title Getting There. This is meant to be my journal. And I am in a place in my life where I feel that wherever I ought to be, I haven't quite reached. Therefore I spend my time "getting there". This is not to say that I am unhappy. I am just not completely happy. I am getting there. Now you begin to see the significance of the title. With that out of the way I can now share the life lesson my daughter just taught me. And all by riding her bike.
I have two daughters. My oldest, being six, is just learning to ride her two wheeler. Santa brought her one for Christmas but mommy seems to lack the initiative to take the damnable thing out and teach her. So I have decided to be more hands on about it and took her and my youngest, three years old, to ride around the condos. It all went much like this: I hold on, I let go, she falls. I hold on, I let go, she falls. I hold on... you get it. And of course this is how it should be. Towards the end of our practicing she was showing visible signs of improvement. I found myself cheering as she went a few feet farther than previously. Then she fell. It seemed like she hit her ankle on her bike and that pretty much ended any desire she had to be on the bike. Not that the desire was huge to begin with. I set her on her bike and walked her home. When we got in I told her to get into comfy pajamas, grab an ice pack, and lets pop in a movie. I was trying to distract her from any discomfort and make what was a negative experience a little easier to swallow. Hoping that she won't hate me the next time I ask her to practice riding the machine of doom that is her bicycle. While she got settled I squatted down, looked her in the eye, and gave her some kind of life lesson speech which probably did more for me than her. It went something along the lines of this..."Honey, you know, life is kinda like riding your bike. It can be hard. Even hurt sometimes. But if you keep at it, it will eventually get better. Maybe not as quickly as you want it to but it will get better. And along the way I'm here to give you a little extra padding when you need it."...The padding was a reference to when I was pushing her home I offered we buy her some pads and gloves so it would at least cushion her fall. She was happy about that.
I realize that she probably heard about the first three words out of my mouth before I lost her. That's okay. I heard me. And I realize that right now, in my life, it gets hard sometimes. And some things are not going so easily. I'm frustrated and admit to even wanting to have a good cry about it. But I keep going along. Bumps, bruises, hurt ankles and all. All I can do is hope that I'll eventually get over this learning curve and ride off into the sunset. Just like I want my baby to do. Well hell, now I feel like a bike ride.
I have two daughters. My oldest, being six, is just learning to ride her two wheeler. Santa brought her one for Christmas but mommy seems to lack the initiative to take the damnable thing out and teach her. So I have decided to be more hands on about it and took her and my youngest, three years old, to ride around the condos. It all went much like this: I hold on, I let go, she falls. I hold on, I let go, she falls. I hold on... you get it. And of course this is how it should be. Towards the end of our practicing she was showing visible signs of improvement. I found myself cheering as she went a few feet farther than previously. Then she fell. It seemed like she hit her ankle on her bike and that pretty much ended any desire she had to be on the bike. Not that the desire was huge to begin with. I set her on her bike and walked her home. When we got in I told her to get into comfy pajamas, grab an ice pack, and lets pop in a movie. I was trying to distract her from any discomfort and make what was a negative experience a little easier to swallow. Hoping that she won't hate me the next time I ask her to practice riding the machine of doom that is her bicycle. While she got settled I squatted down, looked her in the eye, and gave her some kind of life lesson speech which probably did more for me than her. It went something along the lines of this..."Honey, you know, life is kinda like riding your bike. It can be hard. Even hurt sometimes. But if you keep at it, it will eventually get better. Maybe not as quickly as you want it to but it will get better. And along the way I'm here to give you a little extra padding when you need it."...The padding was a reference to when I was pushing her home I offered we buy her some pads and gloves so it would at least cushion her fall. She was happy about that.
I realize that she probably heard about the first three words out of my mouth before I lost her. That's okay. I heard me. And I realize that right now, in my life, it gets hard sometimes. And some things are not going so easily. I'm frustrated and admit to even wanting to have a good cry about it. But I keep going along. Bumps, bruises, hurt ankles and all. All I can do is hope that I'll eventually get over this learning curve and ride off into the sunset. Just like I want my baby to do. Well hell, now I feel like a bike ride.
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