noticing pieces.
"Another common enemy that often is at work in women's relationships is a spirit of accusation. In our friendships, in our relationships with peers at work, and especially in our marriages, we often feel that we are a disappointment to others, that they disapprove of us. We feel in their presence that we are not enough, or that we are too much. After we leave a time with them, we're plagued by a deep sense of failing. We feel frustrated and irritated and ashamed that we feel that way. Our hearts often land in shame and isolation, or we go to resentment... and isolation." from Captivating, by John & Stasi Eldredge (emphasis mine)I get this.
tambourine
my feet have been dancing all morning... i discovered tift merritt this weekend and i cannot get enough... www.tiftmerritt.com
girl meets purposeful exercise.
last night i ran a mile. it was a 20 minute mile, which i've learned is really a terrible time. but that's fine. i ran a mile. this past winter, i ran 3/4 of a mile and thought i would die. but last night, i ran this mile, i was a bit sweaty, but really okay. i probably could have ran another mile. well, not likely. i had meant to run all weekend. build up my endurance. because, you see... i am not a runner. i have never been a runner. that's not to say i haven't wanted to be. or tried to be. in fact, i was the sole participant in the nicholas rapaz system for becoming a runner. i lasted three days.
i have realized that i am at the crucial point in life that can take me down two paths. that of continuous weight gain and loss of endurance due to laziness or that of regaining strength, endurance and a body that fits into my clothes... and since i cannot afford a new wardrobe... i am forced (but gladly so) to do something about it.
i ran on a treadmill last night, which is good, since i am sure i would have looked like a complete idiot running that slow out in public. it's not my treadmill, i was housesitting for a friend and it's hers, and therein lies the problem... not really sure if i can really run that slow without a machine pacing me. so i will have to run a lesser distance to pick up the pace, because i really don't think i could pick up the pace and run a mile. i'd waste myself trying. a friend said that once my body starts producing endorphins from the running, it will become an addiction and i'll have to run to feed it. i think i need that. because running isn't that fun. it just isn't. so, bring on the good medicine, the weight-loss bearing endorphins. i'm ready for battle.
just let me catch my breath.
basic math.
today, i ran to the grocery store in search of soup. i had a turkey sandwich, a banana and some red pepper already, but in light of the 15th day of rain this month, i was cold. i wanted some soup. to my utter dismay, there was no soup to be found at the deli. i ended up getting a few warm items instead and made my way to the express lane. normally, i am a very patient and tolerant person when it comes to the limits of express lanes, but today, i was behind a lady who had a variety of items and then
20 containers of yogurt. now, i'm pretty sure that 20 yogurts do
not count as one item. then, she kept changing her mind on stuff and really took a very long time in the express lane, making it
not the express lane. while patience is not something that i struggle with, it is interesting to note that i can still be tested that way.
fish, dizzy g., 2, maple grove
today is a sad day. i attended a funeral this morning after a very unexpected death. dizzy passed on early this morning (or late last night, we're just not sure) and was given a burial at sea around 10:30. dizzy was a joy to all who knew him during his two short years-always excited about life, eyes wide open at the prospect of something new. i have to confess that i did not know dizzy until this morning when bob brought him in the net. four of us gathered around dizzy, with thoughts and prayers in our hearts. "when i look at how fish are so much a part of the new testament, fish and christianity as we know it are just so interrelated. much more than we would ever dream. this is a loss. and i don't know what it has to do with fishing opener being last weekend, but you know, i gotta believe this timing isn't a coincidence. i mean it's probably kind of symbolic about what's happening out there," one attender noted. on the way to the sea among seas of swirling waters, we gave a proper amount of wailing for such a small little guy. but there was laughter. for his life was something to celebrate. tomorrow he will be replaced, but today? today was his day in the spotlight. goodbye, dizzy. may the waters be kind to your gentle stature and may fish heaven be full of tasty flakes. swim on.
how not to miss it.
so, i have two love languages. gary chapman gives us the theory that we all have a love language. this being the way that we best feel loved. whether it be quality time, words of affirmation, touch, acts of service or gifts. he also tells us about the 'tank' that we all possess... when this tank is full, we are very receptive to acts of love, often regardless of the language. when we are not loved in our language, though, it empties the tank, sometimes to the point of not being able to feel loved at all. a good opportunity to become bitter, if you ask me. so i have two. quality time and touch. the other three don't really even come close. what i have realized is that i
do become bitter at times, because i am not always loved these ways. what i have
found, however, is that if i ignore it and not allow myself to be loved in these ways,
i cannot miss them. not hugging someone because it will be a reminder that you don't get your daily allotment of hugs.
i have cried over the realization that almost always, i am the one to initiate contact with friends... this is how it is. my friends are at stages in their lives that make it harder for them to carve out the time without someone else initiating. and that's okay. i'm glad to be the one. but when it has been awhile since someone else has initiated any quality time, i think of that and it feels like i have to work in order to be loved. and
that's depressing. intensely. but i cannot cease to be with the people i need in my life. so i make the effort.
and touch. i need touch. we all do, really. but i really need it. and i hardly ever get it. and i do not seek it out. because it's too easy to miss. and it does nothing when it's not authentic. and you know when it's not. so the wall goes up that says, 'i don't need it' to the world, when what it really
means is that it hurts too much to have a little than nothing at all.
so i have two love languages. and they're not in great shape. this is not to say that i think i am not loved-i know that i am. but in the deepest part of my heart that aches for touch and meaningful time of others, it doesn't feel received. and though it's fairly easy to forget those deep areas of our souls when we need to, it still doesn't fix the missing pieces. it still affects me, even though i wish it didn't. because to be needy is not a good way to be in my book. at least for me. needy people burden other people and
i do not want to burden. it seems the cruelest of acts. to burden someone else. we all have our own burdens to carry, how could i possibly be so selfish as to ask someone else to bear my burden as well? when it comes to bearing others' burdens, i do not think twice about doing so. it's just so much harder to go the other way.
so, how not to miss it? never know it. but what kind of life is that?
childhood and chips.
when i was little, i didn't really like potato chips. i did, however,
love the seasoning that would cling to the potato. so i would look at a bag of chips and pull out only those that were caked with seasoning. the ones that left a solid layer of seasoning on your fingers. mmm, i loved that. best excuse i'd ever had to lick my fingers. i actually like the potato part of the chip now, but my chip selection hasn't changed. i automatically seek out those that offer the most reward in the way of tastiness. i do eat the more scantily clad chips these days, but i eat the others first. that's all... nothing profound. just a noticing i had today at lunch.
on being selfish...
i have been thinking as of late that i am a rather selfish person. i remember a teacher in high school believing that every human action was a selfish act. obviously, anything we do for ourselves could be thought to be selfish. it was on the doing things for others being selfish that he received the most arguments. he questioned why we did things for others. was it not essentially because it made us feel good? which would turn it into a selfish act. but i really think i am selfish... i interrupt quite a bit, find it easy to tell
my stories and experiences when conversing with others, and i'm a complainer. granted the latter is something i have been trying to work on for quite a while and honestly feel like i have made considerable progress, but i still do it. i remember, at the end of a relationship, my friend, sandi telling me that i needed to be
more selfish. i needed to look out for myself, not let myself get walked all over. she used to chide me about letting so many things go... mayonnaise on a sandwich when i had asked for none, french fries when i had asked for fruit, and so on... i had just never seen the point in making someone else feel bad for a mistake when it wasn't the end of the world to live with the french fries, since i like them. but i have been feeling very convicted lately about my conversational skills... they could be better. a lot better. others have words that are just as important or more important than my own, but sometimes, i just never get to hear them, because all of my stories want to be told and i've already heard all of them. maybe i should start talking to my plants. telling random people on the street. or writing them here. because who reads this? only three people that i know of. and you can all choose to not read, right? i don't know. just thought i'd put it out there that i am selfish.
broken hearts and mothers.
i feel like my mother's heart is broken. and there is such a profound sadness consuming my heart and all that is around it. through nothing more than being the bearer of bad news is my mother's sadness my fault. and perhaps the bad news wasn't mine to bear-knowing what i knew, i needed her to know-to protect her from the unintended harshness of hearing it from another's mouth. i love my mother. she is by far one of the most important people in my life. i almost cannot begin to comprehend this desire to protect her. she is a grown, competent woman. i have seen her take charge of a room without batting an eyelash. but this is breaking my heart. i simply cannot stand to see her hurt. when does a daughter need to protect her mother? i know she is sad because she told me too many reasons why it was really okay. and i don't want her heart to hurt. i want her to know that she is loved and appreciated and needed. because sometimes i think she doesn't believe that. because i know that look-i have felt it-i have bore pain in the same manner. because no matter how hard i ever fought, i am more like my mother than i ever thought i would be. my heart yearns for the same acceptance that i know hers does-and i hate that her heart hurts-i just don't want it to. i want her heart to sing-because it hurts to see it cry.
how will i ever live my life without her?5.2.2005 9:30 pm
