Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Somebody like me


Idealist. Dreaming fills my head when I let my thoughts wander. Not just abstract dreams, but how the world can be better. Things that should be changed, and how they could be changed. Racism and prejudice, and how I can single-handedly destroy them. How to make a better cup of coffee. Yes, that is actually one of my dreams. I dream of a group of people who believe in God that will embrace the gay/lesbian/bisexual/transgender community. People who love instead of judge. I dream of doing such a great job at work that I'm instantly promoted and given responsibility of the entire region, and a huge pay raise on top of that.

Many of these dreams are far-fetched, but some are real and dear to my heart. I keep hoping against hope, and it can really tear at my heart when they seem out of reach and impossible. It keeps me reaching, but a little piece of my heart dies every time my dreams are denied, or put down. If I was to open my heart again, to be in a relationship, it would have to be a man who had the highest respect and admiration for me and for my dreams. I want a man who will build me up for having dreams, while also helping to gently remind me of reality, and that it takes a lot to change people. I need someone who will comfort me when the disparity of humanity is just too much to handle.

I am a wanderer, an adventurer. Sometimes I just need to escape, to take a vacation. I love the outdoors. I love observing and taking in all the beauty that God created. Just looking at the flowers, or the stars last night, breathes life into me.

This will most definitely be continued...
I have a friend. I have known him forever, or at least it feels that way. Every time I talk to him, he encourages me to be who I am, to search for who I am and treasure who I am. I have spent so much time chasing after relationships, chasing after the ideal job, and afterwards I am exhausted, spent, and no longer feel like myself. I have been taking time almost every day for two weeks now to intentionally experience who I am and cognitively digest it, disect it, and write it down. It is beginning to be an amazing journey. I love the freedom of being single. I'm in the middle of this amazing book, Soulmates, by Thomas Moore. He also authored The Care of the Soul. I found Soulmates in the library one day when browsing in some random section near 'self-help,' and I was immediately hooked. It talks about knowing the soul, your own soul, and also how to care for the soul of the person you're in a relationship with. So far I have learned or maybe just relearned how to foster the magic in a relationship, which by the way is a separate entity from you and your lover, you and your friend, whatever the relationship might be, and keep that relationship alive and the spark there. At least, in theory that's what I've learned. Whether I can put that to practice or not is another story. I imagine heuristics may keep me from my intended end. Those pesky shortcuts that we are not consciously aware of, that plague us during that 20/20 hindsight experience, when we can't imagine why we acted as we did, and can't figure out how we got from point A to point B. So if my friend whom I mentioned in the beginning was ever starting to give up hope, as it's taken me two years to realize that what I really needed wasn't another relationship, he should know that there is hope for me yet. Today I am drinking in the sunshine and ignoring all the boys. I think next time I'll actually write about me.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Girl Interrupted

This week I watched a great moving with Winona Ryder, and Angelina Jolie. It's one I've wanted to watch for a while. The premise is a girl who's depressed, and tries to kill herself, and spends about a year in a mental hospital in the 60's. It really moved me, being through some of those experiences myself. And I rediscovered my love of -- and need to -- write. Writing is something that carries the main character of the movie through the whole experience, and ultimately saves her. It's the creative outlet that makes her alive. And I need an outlet. I need to write. I can't believe it's been over two years since I've added to this blog. Two years. Well, here goes...

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Credit Where Credit Is Due

I'm discovering lately that my heart is a lot more evil than I give it credit for. At least with this new perspective I should be able to decrease as He increases. I'm having a hard time writing music lately, it seems that songwriting has evolved into some sort of selfish 'poor me' pity party, so I've just set it aside for the time being. I'm seeing things more clearly every day. The other day God essentially pointed out my own M.O. to me, basically it has to do with being totally focused on looking good for everyone else, doing the right thing, performance. Isn't this like the classic human condition? So I'm challenged, once again, to be about relationship with Him instead of just being the 'good girl' for everyone to praise. Ouch. Humbling. God is more insightful than I give Him credit for, heck, He's more everything than I give Him credit for. Maybe it's time I started giving Him credit.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Time To Let Go, Time To Move On

It's funny how you can hold on tightly to something and realize that it's the one thing God wants you to let go of. Something that became too big, bigger than God. And now I'm picking up the pieces of what's left of my life, after breaking away from the thing that was too big. I'm rediscovering myself. I'm formulating a plan. I'm going through the steps. And I'm holding loosely to the things in my life, in case God should ask me to give Him something else. He is faithful.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Expectations? What are those?

Wouldn't it be great if I could pay off the IRS with Aluminum cans?? Just a thought...

So, today, my children are trying my patience. It's as if there's this voice antagonizing me, 'oh, you're lowering your expectations are you? Well, shouldn't you expect that your children will let the gooey fruit from the bottom of the yogurt spill all over your carpet?'

They're giving themselves a bath, getting water all over the bathroom, finding my purse, getting into everything in it, pulling out all my jewelry and dumping it on the floor.

There's got to be some such thing as taking things to the extreme, right? Lowering expectations doesn't mean allowing anything to happen to you and not reacting.

So now I have to figure out why it is that my black and white personality has absolutely no grasp on reality. Or grey. Or why I think everything is a black or white issue. (By the way this has nothing to do with race. I've never seen anyone with black or white skin, only pinks and browns and yellows and all sorts of colors in between)

I'm on my third pair of socks. I should have learned the first time I had to change them, but I decided to step on the scale, and I always weigh myself without shoes. (The scale confirmed what I had been dreading, I'm a couple pounds heavier) So off went the shoes and before I could get them back on I stepped in the water in the bathroom, the kids had gotten water on the floor even before they started taking a bath! And thus I seem to be sliding down the slippery slope back into depression...

I have followed the kids around all morning cleaning up after their disasters in between trying to keep laundry and dishes going and getting ahead somehow that might be visible to my husband so that when he comes home and asks me what I've done all day I can actually SHOW him something.

But right now, I'm eating potato chips (which taste fabulous dipped in ketchup) and drinking Cherry Vanilla Creme soda.

Friday, July 10, 2009

More on Expectations

Well, I got tested on my new-found wisdom of lowering my expectations last night. My husband and I stayed up late watching episodes of Better Off Ted, which is actually hilarious. So we went to bed around midnight. We got into a really deep conversation, which doesn't happen very often anymore, after all, we have kids. Then in the middle of the sentence that was the most vulnerable and scary for me to tell him, I realize he's fallen asleep. Great.

So as I was trying to fall asleep I heard our daughter, awake, she came into our room and wanted a hug and kiss goodnight, which she got, and went back to bed. Then I heard our son crying a little, so I went to check on him, he needed his diaper changed badly, so I did it. My husband pretty much slept through this entire episode. So then I needed to use the bathroom before I went back to bed, so I went into the bathroom, realized our wonderful daughter had, earlier that day, transferred every single roll of toilet paper into her bathroom! I walked back into their room and to the bathroom, muttering to myself, I tried to wake her up to tell her that she couldn't do this anymore, no luck. She sleeps like the dead.

By this time it's 1:00, and I really can't sleep. Some words started floating through my head so I grabbed my songwriting notebook and started writing. Then my husband wakes up and wants to know what's the matter, because I've got our closet light on so I can see to write, and asks me if he fell asleep in the middle of me talking.

So yeah, expectations? I just need to let them all go.