So... I had a very interesting conversation today... the second conversation in as many weeks when I know that the person I was talking to was TRULY understanding me. Yes, I talk in circles. Yes, I justify answers with 'I just know it'...and I realize that just because I 'know' something, doesn't make it credible...but there is something so spectacular when you truly speak to someone, and you speak right into their heart. And even if that person is far removed from the things you stand on, they still hear you as though you were built from the same foundation.
The topic of 'worth' has been on fire in my heart lately. It is a word that holds so much boldness and hope, yet so much fragility at the same time. When people think about how much they are worth, they normally equate it to finances, right? And while if you are calculating your net-worth this is true, BUT you can be penniless and have more worth than the most filthy rich person in the whole world.
Worth applies in the working world. Worth applies at home. Worth applies among friendships. Worth applies among enemies. So many things, in so many places, worth is the underlying cause of hope, forgiveness, loathing, or hatred. If this is so - if worth is a double edged sword - how much POWER does this word have. It is mighty and it is empowering.
When I say "This relationship is worthless" it means there is no hope. When I say "I am worth far more than rubies" it means there is SO much hope. When I say "Doing that is not worth it" it means I will gain nothing. When I say "You are worth it" it means I believe in you...
The power of this word should never be underestimated. To me, the word 'worth' stands in the same category of other words I covet - such as bold, might, mighty, and hope. These words are as though there are lightning bolts attached to them...and they will either cause a spark or a roaring fire. Lately, for me, it has done the latter.
Love & Light
Monday, October 31, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Beauty in the Midst of This
Hi friends!
It's just me. I sat down to do some school work, but quickly realized it was not going to happen. I checked facebook, but that was surprisingly quiet...so I decided to blog. I don't have burning desire to write, so this may be short and sweet. I don't have a topic to talk about...but the title for the blog post tonight came out of no where... so that's where I'll begin. Usually I title my blog posts after I write. Perhaps my inspired title will lead to inspired words as I get a move on'.
So. Where is the beauty in the midst of this. Where is 'this' even? Is 'this' ourselves? Is 'this' our surroundings? Is 'this' the world? Is 'this' simply 'this' and stand for nothing and everything at the same time? In order to make any semblance of sense in this post, I think I'll equate 'this' with me in Zumba class yesterday.
On any given day, you might find me feeling good, indifferent, not-so-good about how I feel about myself. Some days I cut myself some slack. Some days I don't. Other days I have too much other stuff to worry about (like how my children feel about themselves...) to even have the conversation with myself. After an inconsistent run, and because of a video I have to be in (loooooong story...), I've decided to amp up the workouts.
In this effort, I have taken a VERY strong likening to Zumba. Man oh MAN is it fun! I always start out VERY hesitant, but by the end I'm upset its over! Here's where my blog title fits in:
I am pretty confident I look like a hot mess when I'm into it. I always thought I could dance BUT when I look in the mirror (there is no escaping it at the gym!) I realize that maybe it was the multiple glasses of wine I would always have before I danced that made me believe that I could *LOL!* In any event, I do have rhythm. I can dance... a little... but when I compare how my body moves to the way my instructor's body moves... well... I won't even go there.
BUT... BUT!!
There is beauty in the midst of it.
There is me, living a moment of pure joy. Me shakin' it like a polaroid picture. Me laughing at myself and laughing with my co-dance work out friends. My instructor shouting 'SHAKE IT' and then proceeding to move so quickly I'd say time stands still. The primal rhythm of the music that speaks to the most uncivilized part of me...the letting go of the fact that the jiggliest parts of me are jiggling away (literally and more literally, TMI?!?! Are we there, readers?) and I could care LESS. I see the beauty in the midst of this.
Readers, I urge you to see the beauty in the midst of your own situations. Whether they are like mine in Zumba class lookin' not-so-pretty, or somewhere else. There is ALWAYS something pretty to be found. If you are lucky and open enough, you might find it.
It's just me. I sat down to do some school work, but quickly realized it was not going to happen. I checked facebook, but that was surprisingly quiet...so I decided to blog. I don't have burning desire to write, so this may be short and sweet. I don't have a topic to talk about...but the title for the blog post tonight came out of no where... so that's where I'll begin. Usually I title my blog posts after I write. Perhaps my inspired title will lead to inspired words as I get a move on'.
So. Where is the beauty in the midst of this. Where is 'this' even? Is 'this' ourselves? Is 'this' our surroundings? Is 'this' the world? Is 'this' simply 'this' and stand for nothing and everything at the same time? In order to make any semblance of sense in this post, I think I'll equate 'this' with me in Zumba class yesterday.
On any given day, you might find me feeling good, indifferent, not-so-good about how I feel about myself. Some days I cut myself some slack. Some days I don't. Other days I have too much other stuff to worry about (like how my children feel about themselves...) to even have the conversation with myself. After an inconsistent run, and because of a video I have to be in (loooooong story...), I've decided to amp up the workouts.
In this effort, I have taken a VERY strong likening to Zumba. Man oh MAN is it fun! I always start out VERY hesitant, but by the end I'm upset its over! Here's where my blog title fits in:
I am pretty confident I look like a hot mess when I'm into it. I always thought I could dance BUT when I look in the mirror (there is no escaping it at the gym!) I realize that maybe it was the multiple glasses of wine I would always have before I danced that made me believe that I could *LOL!* In any event, I do have rhythm. I can dance... a little... but when I compare how my body moves to the way my instructor's body moves... well... I won't even go there.
BUT... BUT!!
There is beauty in the midst of it.
There is me, living a moment of pure joy. Me shakin' it like a polaroid picture. Me laughing at myself and laughing with my co-dance work out friends. My instructor shouting 'SHAKE IT' and then proceeding to move so quickly I'd say time stands still. The primal rhythm of the music that speaks to the most uncivilized part of me...the letting go of the fact that the jiggliest parts of me are jiggling away (literally and more literally, TMI?!?! Are we there, readers?) and I could care LESS. I see the beauty in the midst of this.
Readers, I urge you to see the beauty in the midst of your own situations. Whether they are like mine in Zumba class lookin' not-so-pretty, or somewhere else. There is ALWAYS something pretty to be found. If you are lucky and open enough, you might find it.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Unapologetically Me
Hi friends,
It's me. Dina. Some of you enjoy me just as I am. Some of you like parts of me. Some of you, I mystify. Some of you, I confuse. Maybe some of you only like me part of the time, when it's convenient for you (I am pretty confident I have some of you in my life...but I still love you for you) Some of you are mad that I just wrote that...
I have been thinking a lot lately and truth be told, I found out some things about myself. Some of them too personal to share here, but some of them aren't. During lunch with a friend recently, she called me out about something...and she was entirely right. What's that thing? Well, it's complicated, but without going into too much detail, it is the fact that I purposely and voluntarily leave myself out of situations. It's sort of part of my all-or-nothing personality. I don't remember a time when I would settle for just-a-little-bit. All. Or. Nothing. Always.
For a minute (well, for numerous minutes, really...) I backpedaled a little. I thought 'what if she's right? what if I should take a look at myself'...but don't worry friends, that didn't last too long. What this conversation taught me was this: I am who I am. I am working towards who I was created to be. I like myself just as I am - quirks and all. I secretly (not-so-much now...) like that I am stubborn, thick headed, all-or-nothing, in your face as much as I can be, demanding, 'you're wrong just because I said you were,' competitive to no end, and that I march to the beat of my own drummer. It's funny - I recently said to another friend - I may march to the beat of my own drummer, but never out of synch with everyone else.
If I am going to be honest, I like these quirks about me that have negative connotations. The negatives give me character and charm, sort of like a cool scar with an even cooler story. They don't harm anyone (except me, usually...). The fact of the matter is that I LIKE these things about me.
While there are plenty of positive things that I could say about myself, I choose to say that I find the negative things about me to be positive things. Together these traits make me, ME. I shouldn't feel that I need to be apologetic for being me. I'm done feeling that way. I spent much to much of my younger years trying to figure that out. I am unapologetically me. I am finally strong enough, mature enough, and most importantly kind enough to myself to acknowledge that.
So, ... I thank my friend for lunch that day. I thank her for prompting me to check myself. I thank her for calling me out and I thank her for giving me the opportunity to realize and rediscover that I LIKE that I am the way I am. I thank her for letting me be ME, unapologetically me. I thank all my other friends and family - my TRUE and LOYAL friends and family - for letting me be unapologetically me. I appreciate you all more than you know.
It's me. Dina. Some of you enjoy me just as I am. Some of you like parts of me. Some of you, I mystify. Some of you, I confuse. Maybe some of you only like me part of the time, when it's convenient for you (I am pretty confident I have some of you in my life...but I still love you for you) Some of you are mad that I just wrote that...
I have been thinking a lot lately and truth be told, I found out some things about myself. Some of them too personal to share here, but some of them aren't. During lunch with a friend recently, she called me out about something...and she was entirely right. What's that thing? Well, it's complicated, but without going into too much detail, it is the fact that I purposely and voluntarily leave myself out of situations. It's sort of part of my all-or-nothing personality. I don't remember a time when I would settle for just-a-little-bit. All. Or. Nothing. Always.
For a minute (well, for numerous minutes, really...) I backpedaled a little. I thought 'what if she's right? what if I should take a look at myself'...but don't worry friends, that didn't last too long. What this conversation taught me was this: I am who I am. I am working towards who I was created to be. I like myself just as I am - quirks and all. I secretly (not-so-much now...) like that I am stubborn, thick headed, all-or-nothing, in your face as much as I can be, demanding, 'you're wrong just because I said you were,' competitive to no end, and that I march to the beat of my own drummer. It's funny - I recently said to another friend - I may march to the beat of my own drummer, but never out of synch with everyone else.
If I am going to be honest, I like these quirks about me that have negative connotations. The negatives give me character and charm, sort of like a cool scar with an even cooler story. They don't harm anyone (except me, usually...). The fact of the matter is that I LIKE these things about me.
While there are plenty of positive things that I could say about myself, I choose to say that I find the negative things about me to be positive things. Together these traits make me, ME. I shouldn't feel that I need to be apologetic for being me. I'm done feeling that way. I spent much to much of my younger years trying to figure that out. I am unapologetically me. I am finally strong enough, mature enough, and most importantly kind enough to myself to acknowledge that.
So, ... I thank my friend for lunch that day. I thank her for prompting me to check myself. I thank her for calling me out and I thank her for giving me the opportunity to realize and rediscover that I LIKE that I am the way I am. I thank her for letting me be ME, unapologetically me. I thank all my other friends and family - my TRUE and LOYAL friends and family - for letting me be unapologetically me. I appreciate you all more than you know.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
WARNING: Its a Long One. Grab a Cup o' Joe...
Hi friends. It's been awhile again. This post has been brewing in my heart for quite some time... as a warning, it may be lengthy and it may contain errors because my intention is to write and post - no re-reading, no spell checks. This post is an unapologetic stream of consciousness. Ready? Let's go ♥
Music has always been a HUGE part of my life. From Linda Ronstadt to James Taylor; Dan Fogelberg to Carly Simon; OH and who could forget Frank Sinatra (my personal fav!)? Saturday nights were filled with no TV, just dance parties and plenty of laughs. I would often go to bed with the music blaring, no end in sight. It was these days that set the stage for my lifelong passion.
I remember sitting in my room at our old apartment (73 Frasier Street to be exact. I remember Mom DRILLING the address into my head just-in-case), with my 45's and a record player. Jamming out to whatever I had. I remember getting a pocket rocker, and having Manic Monday and Walk Like an Egyptian - thinking I was a legit rock star. I remember a D.A.R.E solo I sang at a school concert even though I was sick because I could NEVER let my backup take that spot (I swear, I'm not competitive...LOL!).
Music is a part of my DNA. My grandfather is a master piano technician - translating feelings into sounds so complex, yet so simple. His long, capable fingers understanding the keys like a mother understands her baby's cry. His emotions resound through the strike and tap of every key. His sadness drips with every note now that his reason to play is in the arms of angels. ♥
I always felt... capable... when whatever it was involved music. If it was an instrument, I could probably figure out how to play it. The only one that always escaped me was the piano. Oh how I love it, but oh how I just can't seem to get my heart and my hands to work together. I played trumpet in the high school band when I was in middle school. I held 'first seat' every year of middle school and some of high school (before my trumpet got stolen...). Playing music came effortlessly for me.
Although instruments were easy, it was truly my voice that was my instrument of choice. I am unsure why I did not pursue it as much as I did the trumpet - something that frustrates me today. I can recall one very trying day in the music room when I was in middle school (or perhaps a Freshman in high school). If I am honest, this would probably be the day I shied away from singing in front of anyone. We were 'warming up' and our choir teacher had us sing do-re-mi. For some reason, she had asked me to start it. So I did. Do, re, mi, fa, so la... and when I got to ti it was pretty high...and I don't remember what happened next, but I know it involved lots of chuckles and whispers around the room. It seems so insignificant now, but back then...well... let's just say it was damaging. From that point on, my heart ached to sing but I denied it - thinking those snickering girls were right. THEY knew what they were talking about. THEY were all in drama and THEY were all in the special chorale ensemble...so they must know, right? Well...looking back, I see it as a pure reflection of their own insecurity. I see my heartache. I see the shutting down of my passion. I let the embers go out.
Fast forward.
In the past few years, there have been multiple times when I've said that I felt like I had a simmering pot, and I was doing what I could to stoke the fire so it could overflow...but all the wood seemed wet. Always. I never really knew why I felt this way. I had all my needs fulfilled. I had the majority of my (reasonable) wants fulfilled. I had no reason for this restlessness. This is an important part of the story, but I have to change gears for a second.
In April, I turned 30. I was excited to enter the 'age of establishment' as I affectionately dubbed it. I will never forget that a few months before this, there was a football game on. It was halftime so I checked Facebook...and my heart nearly flew out of my chest. It was then that a dream of mine was going to be fulfilled... It was Audrey Assad. The weekend of my birthday. In MAINE. If you know me at all, you know I am completely and totally and utterly and entirely in awe of her and her gift. Instantly, I knew I'd be there.
Fast forward to April. My dear, dear, friend and I take an overnight road trip to Charleston, Maine to see her. I am SO excited and SO nervous. We have an amazing time. I am not sure we stopped talking the whole way up. We got checked in at the hotel, got showered and all gussied up, and we headed out. When I tell you I was hyper-excited, I'm putting it mildly. I felt that at any given moment, I would explode.
We get to the church the event was being held at. There are a million cars. We walk in and there are a million people. There is NO assigned seating so we wander until we find decent seats - in the FRONT but off to the side. Excellent choice because this is the side she comes in from and leaves from so I got to see her a few times. She gets up there, she sings "Sparrow" and I am entranced. Something now begins to dry out the wood next to the fire. The night was filled with praise and worship and all things holy. At one point, I turned to my friend and whispered that it was my hearts desire to do what they are doing. I whispered because it came from the whispers of my heart. I whispered because I didn't DARE think it could be true. I whispered because I didn't want anyone else to hear...I whispered. The wood was dry and someone just put a few logs on to rekindle the flame.
On the way out, I got to MEET her. Yes - as in talk to her, she signed something for me, I let her know how amazing she is and how she inspires me. Our hearts connected, even if for a brief moment, and she added wood to my fire and a strong wind fanned the flame. My pot was SO close to overflowing. In one of my favorite Psalms, the psalmist says "you make the winds your messenger." In this perfect, anointed moment, He did.
Between then and now, so much has been revealed to me. My pot is officially overflowing. I am unashamed at the mess it is leaving. As a matter of fact, I am grateful for the mess.
I see singing as a gateway. I swear at times I could touch the hem of His garment. When I sing, it is a private, lovely, hopeful, heartfelt cry to my God. I sing to Him, I sing for Him. My ultimate goal is to get those who sing along with me to understand that feeling. The feeling of 'suspension' (as I call it) between Earth and the heavens. The feeling of holy surrender as my melody, the words, and my heart collide at the foot of the cross. The feeling of hope and promise that the very last note leaves me with...that even though it is quiet around us, my soul is not. Even though the music has stopped, it resounds in heaven's throne room as a tribute to the God I love and worship. Come with me, sometime. Come with me and experience the humbleness, fullness, boldness, hope, joy, peace, and comfort that true worship brings.
Love and Light
~Dina
Music has always been a HUGE part of my life. From Linda Ronstadt to James Taylor; Dan Fogelberg to Carly Simon; OH and who could forget Frank Sinatra (my personal fav!)? Saturday nights were filled with no TV, just dance parties and plenty of laughs. I would often go to bed with the music blaring, no end in sight. It was these days that set the stage for my lifelong passion.
I remember sitting in my room at our old apartment (73 Frasier Street to be exact. I remember Mom DRILLING the address into my head just-in-case), with my 45's and a record player. Jamming out to whatever I had. I remember getting a pocket rocker, and having Manic Monday and Walk Like an Egyptian - thinking I was a legit rock star. I remember a D.A.R.E solo I sang at a school concert even though I was sick because I could NEVER let my backup take that spot (I swear, I'm not competitive...LOL!).
Music is a part of my DNA. My grandfather is a master piano technician - translating feelings into sounds so complex, yet so simple. His long, capable fingers understanding the keys like a mother understands her baby's cry. His emotions resound through the strike and tap of every key. His sadness drips with every note now that his reason to play is in the arms of angels. ♥
I always felt... capable... when whatever it was involved music. If it was an instrument, I could probably figure out how to play it. The only one that always escaped me was the piano. Oh how I love it, but oh how I just can't seem to get my heart and my hands to work together. I played trumpet in the high school band when I was in middle school. I held 'first seat' every year of middle school and some of high school (before my trumpet got stolen...). Playing music came effortlessly for me.
Although instruments were easy, it was truly my voice that was my instrument of choice. I am unsure why I did not pursue it as much as I did the trumpet - something that frustrates me today. I can recall one very trying day in the music room when I was in middle school (or perhaps a Freshman in high school). If I am honest, this would probably be the day I shied away from singing in front of anyone. We were 'warming up' and our choir teacher had us sing do-re-mi. For some reason, she had asked me to start it. So I did. Do, re, mi, fa, so la... and when I got to ti it was pretty high...and I don't remember what happened next, but I know it involved lots of chuckles and whispers around the room. It seems so insignificant now, but back then...well... let's just say it was damaging. From that point on, my heart ached to sing but I denied it - thinking those snickering girls were right. THEY knew what they were talking about. THEY were all in drama and THEY were all in the special chorale ensemble...so they must know, right? Well...looking back, I see it as a pure reflection of their own insecurity. I see my heartache. I see the shutting down of my passion. I let the embers go out.
Fast forward.
In the past few years, there have been multiple times when I've said that I felt like I had a simmering pot, and I was doing what I could to stoke the fire so it could overflow...but all the wood seemed wet. Always. I never really knew why I felt this way. I had all my needs fulfilled. I had the majority of my (reasonable) wants fulfilled. I had no reason for this restlessness. This is an important part of the story, but I have to change gears for a second.
In April, I turned 30. I was excited to enter the 'age of establishment' as I affectionately dubbed it. I will never forget that a few months before this, there was a football game on. It was halftime so I checked Facebook...and my heart nearly flew out of my chest. It was then that a dream of mine was going to be fulfilled... It was Audrey Assad. The weekend of my birthday. In MAINE. If you know me at all, you know I am completely and totally and utterly and entirely in awe of her and her gift. Instantly, I knew I'd be there.
Fast forward to April. My dear, dear, friend and I take an overnight road trip to Charleston, Maine to see her. I am SO excited and SO nervous. We have an amazing time. I am not sure we stopped talking the whole way up. We got checked in at the hotel, got showered and all gussied up, and we headed out. When I tell you I was hyper-excited, I'm putting it mildly. I felt that at any given moment, I would explode.
We get to the church the event was being held at. There are a million cars. We walk in and there are a million people. There is NO assigned seating so we wander until we find decent seats - in the FRONT but off to the side. Excellent choice because this is the side she comes in from and leaves from so I got to see her a few times. She gets up there, she sings "Sparrow" and I am entranced. Something now begins to dry out the wood next to the fire. The night was filled with praise and worship and all things holy. At one point, I turned to my friend and whispered that it was my hearts desire to do what they are doing. I whispered because it came from the whispers of my heart. I whispered because I didn't DARE think it could be true. I whispered because I didn't want anyone else to hear...I whispered. The wood was dry and someone just put a few logs on to rekindle the flame.
On the way out, I got to MEET her. Yes - as in talk to her, she signed something for me, I let her know how amazing she is and how she inspires me. Our hearts connected, even if for a brief moment, and she added wood to my fire and a strong wind fanned the flame. My pot was SO close to overflowing. In one of my favorite Psalms, the psalmist says "you make the winds your messenger." In this perfect, anointed moment, He did.
Between then and now, so much has been revealed to me. My pot is officially overflowing. I am unashamed at the mess it is leaving. As a matter of fact, I am grateful for the mess.
I see singing as a gateway. I swear at times I could touch the hem of His garment. When I sing, it is a private, lovely, hopeful, heartfelt cry to my God. I sing to Him, I sing for Him. My ultimate goal is to get those who sing along with me to understand that feeling. The feeling of 'suspension' (as I call it) between Earth and the heavens. The feeling of holy surrender as my melody, the words, and my heart collide at the foot of the cross. The feeling of hope and promise that the very last note leaves me with...that even though it is quiet around us, my soul is not. Even though the music has stopped, it resounds in heaven's throne room as a tribute to the God I love and worship. Come with me, sometime. Come with me and experience the humbleness, fullness, boldness, hope, joy, peace, and comfort that true worship brings.
Love and Light
~Dina
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
I Need a Blog Topic. Go.
So...I've been in a blogging rut lately. Don't get me wrong, I've got PLENTY to say...I've just not had a minute to collect my thoughts. I've started posts and scratched them because they just wouldn't make any sense if I pushed my way through them.
In an effort to unslump myself (Name that book: "When you're in a slump, you're not in for much fun. Unslumping yourself is not easily done") I thought I would give wonderful facebook friends a chance to help me pick a topic.
I was nervous at first...my status read "I need a blog topic. Go." and I thought I'd get a million people at once. Nope. Silly girl. You only have 150 friends on there, and you only talk to about 30 of them in real life...so WHY would you get a million at once? Unrealistic. If you've read any of my other posts, you'll see I perpetually struggle with expectations...but I digress.
Slowly but surely the topics came in. It started like sprinkles of raindrops and then turned into thunderous pelts. My friends (you know, those in the 30 that i talk to in real life) began to give me ideas. I was FA-SCI-NA-TED (say this like Oprah does...) at the depth and breath of the topics. Here is a running list - and a reason why I decided not to write about each of them today.
1. Deliverance. A VERY personal topic for me. To write about this topic is to bring you, my readers, into a very secret place in my heart. One day, I'll do it. For now, you're fine where you are :)
2. Motherhood. Another VERY personal topic. It is an area where I feel most inadequate...most vulnerable. My heart is not feeling inadequate or vulnerable right now so it would have been a 'forced' write - but that is boring for you and torturous for me.
3. The meaning of the word HOME. Wow. Amazing topic. I could go on forever about it...but today was not the time.
4. The name Jean - which is a VERY significant name in my life. From one of my besties to my beautiful grandmother - this name carries weight, love, happiness and sadness wrapped up together in four letters. I may revisit this at some point in the very near future.
5. Stepping out - Ohhh..this was TEMPTING!!! A good one for sure. I am living proof that stepping out in faith under the direction of the Lord can reap unfathomable, yet humbling rewards. I may revisit this at some point in the very near future as well.
6. Potato puffs, sweet potato fries, and curly fries. How'd we get here?? Oh ya - I am OBVIOUSLY random and so are my friends! Oh..and I LOOOOVE potato puffs to the moon and back.
7. Get ready for this one...ready?
Dissection.
You read it right. Dissection. Pigs brains, rats, rabbits, frogs... dissection. The best part about this topic though is that it can be literal and figurative. I may, in fact, also revisit this one.
SO what? So what about is the point of this blog post? The point of it is that I have some pretty amazing friends who have made some pretty amazing contributions to my life. Be it a suggestion for a blog post, babysitting, coaching, an ear to whine in, a shoulder to cry on, arms to catch me when I fall, stern-ness in love, encouragement, or a good laugh - all of these friends have helped make me who I am today. I know it sounds SO cliche, but I couldn't have made the strides I've made in my life without you (or my family...but wait? that's another post!)
Friends have a way of swooping in and saving the day at precisely the right moment. And they do it with love, grace, beauty, selflessness, and might. This kind of real, true, fully vested friends are as necessary to me as breathing. I need them. I realize at times I can be overwhelming. I can be aggressive, stubborn, anxious and needy...but what i love about you guys is that you love me anyway. In case you didn't know, this means the world to me. Without you, I'd fail. Without you, I wouldn't be able to think, act and play BIG. You love me unconditionally and by doing this, you've allowed me to love myself in the very same way.
Thank you.
Love & Light
In an effort to unslump myself (Name that book: "When you're in a slump, you're not in for much fun. Unslumping yourself is not easily done") I thought I would give wonderful facebook friends a chance to help me pick a topic.
I was nervous at first...my status read "I need a blog topic. Go." and I thought I'd get a million people at once. Nope. Silly girl. You only have 150 friends on there, and you only talk to about 30 of them in real life...so WHY would you get a million at once? Unrealistic. If you've read any of my other posts, you'll see I perpetually struggle with expectations...but I digress.
Slowly but surely the topics came in. It started like sprinkles of raindrops and then turned into thunderous pelts. My friends (you know, those in the 30 that i talk to in real life) began to give me ideas. I was FA-SCI-NA-TED (say this like Oprah does...) at the depth and breath of the topics. Here is a running list - and a reason why I decided not to write about each of them today.
1. Deliverance. A VERY personal topic for me. To write about this topic is to bring you, my readers, into a very secret place in my heart. One day, I'll do it. For now, you're fine where you are :)
2. Motherhood. Another VERY personal topic. It is an area where I feel most inadequate...most vulnerable. My heart is not feeling inadequate or vulnerable right now so it would have been a 'forced' write - but that is boring for you and torturous for me.
3. The meaning of the word HOME. Wow. Amazing topic. I could go on forever about it...but today was not the time.
4. The name Jean - which is a VERY significant name in my life. From one of my besties to my beautiful grandmother - this name carries weight, love, happiness and sadness wrapped up together in four letters. I may revisit this at some point in the very near future.
5. Stepping out - Ohhh..this was TEMPTING!!! A good one for sure. I am living proof that stepping out in faith under the direction of the Lord can reap unfathomable, yet humbling rewards. I may revisit this at some point in the very near future as well.
6. Potato puffs, sweet potato fries, and curly fries. How'd we get here?? Oh ya - I am OBVIOUSLY random and so are my friends! Oh..and I LOOOOVE potato puffs to the moon and back.
7. Get ready for this one...ready?
Dissection.
You read it right. Dissection. Pigs brains, rats, rabbits, frogs... dissection. The best part about this topic though is that it can be literal and figurative. I may, in fact, also revisit this one.
SO what? So what about is the point of this blog post? The point of it is that I have some pretty amazing friends who have made some pretty amazing contributions to my life. Be it a suggestion for a blog post, babysitting, coaching, an ear to whine in, a shoulder to cry on, arms to catch me when I fall, stern-ness in love, encouragement, or a good laugh - all of these friends have helped make me who I am today. I know it sounds SO cliche, but I couldn't have made the strides I've made in my life without you (or my family...but wait? that's another post!)
Friends have a way of swooping in and saving the day at precisely the right moment. And they do it with love, grace, beauty, selflessness, and might. This kind of real, true, fully vested friends are as necessary to me as breathing. I need them. I realize at times I can be overwhelming. I can be aggressive, stubborn, anxious and needy...but what i love about you guys is that you love me anyway. In case you didn't know, this means the world to me. Without you, I'd fail. Without you, I wouldn't be able to think, act and play BIG. You love me unconditionally and by doing this, you've allowed me to love myself in the very same way.
Thank you.
Love & Light
Monday, August 8, 2011
Reality Came Crashing Down
I just went to get something down from a shelf in the coat closet and a whole bunch of pictures fell. I had forgotten they were there and I couldn't see them because the shelf is high. I indulged for a moment and looked through them. The emotion that followed was surprising to me. The emotion was sadness and a sense of loss.
Let me backtrack.
As some of you know, my oldest daughter officially has her own room. We completed the switch yesterday. While she was SUPER excited (to say the least) yesterday as we were moving things, the SUPER excited turned to a little bit nervous as bed time approached. One of the decorations I got for her new room was a pin board (you know, the fabric covered ones?). She loved it as it fed right into her 6.5 year old vanity. She immediately covered it with pictures - of herself, of course! As gathered the picture frames with her picture in it, I realized that there were older pictures behind the ones we saw. It was a trip down memory lane to see her regress in age right before our eyes. She thought it was amazing (and she certainly thought she was the cutest. baby. ever.) but me? I felt a tug of sadness.
I asked myself the question "do I remember where this picture was taken?" "Do I remember why I felt like I had to capture this moment?" "Do I remember Maya this way?" As these came up, I dismissed them because the answers to them were truth...and the truth was I didn't. Sure, some pictures I knew where it was taken, but I don't know why. The saddest part? I don't remember Maya that way.
I have distant, foggy memories of all my children when they were small. Even now, it's hard for me to picture them any other way than the way they are. I'm not talking their personality, but the way they look. Seeing these pictures of Maya and the ones that fell from the coat closet threw reality in my face. This reality is the fact that my kids, without my consent, are growing and changing right before my eyes.
I get it - this is the way it works. Years go by, we get older, we get smarter, we get bigger...but someone forgot to send me the memo that when it is OUR kids, all of this is exaggerated to a lightening speed pace.
I would do anything for one more day of Maya as an exceptionally chubby 8 month old - willing to laugh at any silly face in front of her. I would trade years off my life for one more day of Avery's way-too-wise eyes of a 4 month old to flutter off to sleep in my arms. I covet one more day of seeing Edie as a baby, staring at her sisters in awe and flashing that all-too-cheesy toothless grin. Anything.
What has all of this taught me?
It's taught me that playing play-doh, although it's my LEAST favorite thing in the world, is what matters. It's allowing the kids to help me stir the cookie mix even though I know more will end up on the counter than in the bowl. It's to go mental with the garden hose just because it's hot and we have a change of clothes just steps away. It's to memorize the sound of their laughter, the sparkles in their eyes, and the feeling of their ever-growing-very-dense bodies in my arms as we snuggle. It's to be able to close my eyes and picture them as they are, as they were and as they will be.
I realize this is nothing new to women who have children. I figure every Mom has gone though this at one point. I suppose my reality hit me today - in the form of falling pictures from a too-high shelf. It didn't hurt my body, but it sure did hurt my heart.
Love & Light
Let me backtrack.
As some of you know, my oldest daughter officially has her own room. We completed the switch yesterday. While she was SUPER excited (to say the least) yesterday as we were moving things, the SUPER excited turned to a little bit nervous as bed time approached. One of the decorations I got for her new room was a pin board (you know, the fabric covered ones?). She loved it as it fed right into her 6.5 year old vanity. She immediately covered it with pictures - of herself, of course! As gathered the picture frames with her picture in it, I realized that there were older pictures behind the ones we saw. It was a trip down memory lane to see her regress in age right before our eyes. She thought it was amazing (and she certainly thought she was the cutest. baby. ever.) but me? I felt a tug of sadness.
I asked myself the question "do I remember where this picture was taken?" "Do I remember why I felt like I had to capture this moment?" "Do I remember Maya this way?" As these came up, I dismissed them because the answers to them were truth...and the truth was I didn't. Sure, some pictures I knew where it was taken, but I don't know why. The saddest part? I don't remember Maya that way.
I have distant, foggy memories of all my children when they were small. Even now, it's hard for me to picture them any other way than the way they are. I'm not talking their personality, but the way they look. Seeing these pictures of Maya and the ones that fell from the coat closet threw reality in my face. This reality is the fact that my kids, without my consent, are growing and changing right before my eyes.
I get it - this is the way it works. Years go by, we get older, we get smarter, we get bigger...but someone forgot to send me the memo that when it is OUR kids, all of this is exaggerated to a lightening speed pace.
I would do anything for one more day of Maya as an exceptionally chubby 8 month old - willing to laugh at any silly face in front of her. I would trade years off my life for one more day of Avery's way-too-wise eyes of a 4 month old to flutter off to sleep in my arms. I covet one more day of seeing Edie as a baby, staring at her sisters in awe and flashing that all-too-cheesy toothless grin. Anything.
What has all of this taught me?
It's taught me that playing play-doh, although it's my LEAST favorite thing in the world, is what matters. It's allowing the kids to help me stir the cookie mix even though I know more will end up on the counter than in the bowl. It's to go mental with the garden hose just because it's hot and we have a change of clothes just steps away. It's to memorize the sound of their laughter, the sparkles in their eyes, and the feeling of their ever-growing-very-dense bodies in my arms as we snuggle. It's to be able to close my eyes and picture them as they are, as they were and as they will be.
I realize this is nothing new to women who have children. I figure every Mom has gone though this at one point. I suppose my reality hit me today - in the form of falling pictures from a too-high shelf. It didn't hurt my body, but it sure did hurt my heart.
Love & Light
Sunday, July 17, 2011
I believe...
I was thinking today (and contrary to popular belief, I did not hurt myself...) and I was considering what I truly believe. What are the things I believe IN. What are the things I believe FOR. What do I believe? Since it's been awhile, I figured I'd share them with you.
1. I believe in God the father, His son Jesus and the gift of the Holy Spirit. I believe that God calls us all and it is up to us to listen. I believe that He died on a cross as the ultimate sacrifice so that I could have a clean slate. I believe He bestows us with gifts, grace and mercy so we can continue to exhalt His holy name. I believe that ALL glory goes to the Father.
2. I believe in the power of friendship; in the power of standing for friends who can't stand themselves. I believe in loving friends like family and treating them that way. I believe in the unspoken words that are heard loud and clear between friends; and I believe in the expressionless exchange of emotions that happens when friends are intertwined at the heart.
3. I believe in the mightiness of prayer; in standing in the gap between those who cannot pray and those who are praying. I believe in storming the gates of heaven with both needs and praise; and rejoicing in both the silence and the answers that come.
4. I believe in the healing power of a good meal eaten in good company; in the conversation and exchange of ideas that naturally happens - where it seems that no dream is too big and no comment is too small. Food + Good Company + Life Changing Discussion = Satisfaction.
5. I believe the ground is level ONLY at the foot of the cross. It is the one place where you can lay your burdens and know that they will not ever roll back to you. I believe the only way you can get burdens back is if you TAKE them back.
I believe SO much more than I've written here. I believe that those who know me well enough have heard the words of my heart that did not make it on this page. They have shared the healing power of a good meal. They have spent time with me as I laid things at the cross. They have prayed with me and for me to the God we believe in. They have called me friend, and I, them.
The most rewarding part of these thoughts today is not this blog post (HAHAHAHAA!), but rather, the fact that my blessings in life were abundantly clear. I encourage all of you to ask yourself "what do I believe?" and write it down. Share it with me here, put it in your journal, email a friend - but writing it down helps you see it differently. You'll probably be amazed at what you find.
~Love & Light~
1. I believe in God the father, His son Jesus and the gift of the Holy Spirit. I believe that God calls us all and it is up to us to listen. I believe that He died on a cross as the ultimate sacrifice so that I could have a clean slate. I believe He bestows us with gifts, grace and mercy so we can continue to exhalt His holy name. I believe that ALL glory goes to the Father.
2. I believe in the power of friendship; in the power of standing for friends who can't stand themselves. I believe in loving friends like family and treating them that way. I believe in the unspoken words that are heard loud and clear between friends; and I believe in the expressionless exchange of emotions that happens when friends are intertwined at the heart.
3. I believe in the mightiness of prayer; in standing in the gap between those who cannot pray and those who are praying. I believe in storming the gates of heaven with both needs and praise; and rejoicing in both the silence and the answers that come.
4. I believe in the healing power of a good meal eaten in good company; in the conversation and exchange of ideas that naturally happens - where it seems that no dream is too big and no comment is too small. Food + Good Company + Life Changing Discussion = Satisfaction.
5. I believe the ground is level ONLY at the foot of the cross. It is the one place where you can lay your burdens and know that they will not ever roll back to you. I believe the only way you can get burdens back is if you TAKE them back.
I believe SO much more than I've written here. I believe that those who know me well enough have heard the words of my heart that did not make it on this page. They have shared the healing power of a good meal. They have spent time with me as I laid things at the cross. They have prayed with me and for me to the God we believe in. They have called me friend, and I, them.
The most rewarding part of these thoughts today is not this blog post (HAHAHAHAA!), but rather, the fact that my blessings in life were abundantly clear. I encourage all of you to ask yourself "what do I believe?" and write it down. Share it with me here, put it in your journal, email a friend - but writing it down helps you see it differently. You'll probably be amazed at what you find.
~Love & Light~
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