Wednesday, January 29, 2014

There is nothing in life that can prepare us for some experiences...

Like the first time you look at someone and the corners of your mouth curl up and you think, "Man, I really like you, I think I love you." It's usually in a moment of their stupidity that you know they are comfortable to let you see all of them, and thats when you realize it's safe to love. 

When a child's disability over shadows the fact that they have feelings too. You forget, and then you stand there witnessing a child laughing so uncontrollably during a treatment session, that his shoulders are lifting up to greet the sky. And there you stand feeling like a fool for forgetting that he too has emotions, but at the same time you are so incredibly moved to tears by this overwhelming happiness that is rolling out from this tiny child.

Sand covered toes, wind tangled day old hair, watching birds glide over the water looking for breakfast. Sitting hunched over on a small bluff to keep the breeze from sliding up my clothes to touch unwanted places. I stare as one fin after another rises out of the ocean waters. Riding the waves a baby dolphin hugs the side of its mom, feeling security in her calm movements. Their playful nature keeps me entertained for at least 30 mins., simply captivated.

The emotions you feel loosing someone, a friend, parent, child or love. It's hard to put into words, the pit that occupies your stomach, the thoughts that consume your mind, and you wonder if you will ever feel your heart beat a normal rhythm again. I like the way Anne Lemott explains these feelings.
 “You will lose someone,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.” 

In the end we are all fragile, and all we can do is surrender to these experiences.
But it is our stories, these experiences that we will continue to whisper,
hoping to inspire others and ourselves. 

"Life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings." — Jane Austen

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

These days are interesting....

My alarm sounds notifying me and the sun it's time to rise.
I scramble to create something that qualifies under a breakfast food. 
A few random lunch items, are thrown into the discounted, not so trusty, ziplock bags.
I sing, sip coffee and drive, while frequently looking at my dashboard to assure me that my Subaru is still running.
kids, kids, meetings, kids.
My toes shove into my sneakers, with my heal trying to inch in to avoid the cold air, soon it will be warmed by the pounding of the gym track.
I attempt to make food that will satisfy my grumbling stomach.
Then my bed begins to run through my mind, circulating all the pillows and lush blankets that will give me rest at last.
Only to start the cycle over.

I feel like there is not enough hours in the day for all the things I want to do. I never was able to understand that phrase until just recently.
Friends, crafing, blogging, reading, instagramming, family, God and even just simply thinking are hard to find the time to do.
Sometimes I feel like no matter how I try to re-arrange my schedule or de-stress, it doesn't work.
There is always this sense that I am missing something.

My head is in need of a break to allow my heart to come back.
It almost seems like my heart is even to busy to feel.
Is that possible?
I'm finding it hard to be happy with myself on these days with all the rush.
My life is just like these words falling onto this page, like the start of a scrabble game, pieces scattered thinly all over. 
There is no real sense of organization, just chaos. 
Never knowing what is coming my way next.  
But there is assurance that the pieces will slowly be picked up and will come together to make sense. 




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