Category Archives: Uncategorized

Made of the Scraps

I am quite aware that my labradoodle, Hollywood, has a better pedigree than me. He came into this world and swiftly was written into his lineage that includes official papers confirming the sturdiness of his hips and the sharpness of his eyes. I, on the other hand, didn’t find out I was deaf in my right ear until I was four. At age ten, my eyesight started to dwindle. At fourteen, my shins sprouted splints and stress fractures from running, at twenty five I was diagnosed with a thyroid disease, and recently it’s been confirmed I have a rare blood clotting mutation and low progesterone.

My body has a history of failing me to say the least. I desire certain things that it does not have the fortitude to provide. Maybe I want to go camping without lugging along pills and contact lenses. Maybe I want to train for the fastest race of my life without getting a bone fracture. Maybe I want to hold a breathing baby that will grow into a rambunctious kid that takes too many risks.

I belong to a sibling group of five. I am number four. I am made of the scraps. This is not a secret. I have made sure my mom knows my plight (although she rolls her eyes and says, “Baloney!”). Baloney my ass. I love her to pieces anyway, as she loves me anyway. I also love my smart puppy whom rings a bell to be let inside, can distinguish the meaning of full sentences (when he knows the key words), and knows it is treat time when he hears the wine bottle open.

White Picket Fences

We envision the life we see ourselves having, and I’m not sure if we are lucky or not if we get that life. I guess it depends on the wisdom of each dream, or dreamer. Anyway, most of us have some illusion of white picket fences. Not literally, of course, but the idea that we will be happy if we have X or Z and that’s all we’ll need. But, as you get closer to X or Z, one might realize the choosing is harder.

Do we stay at home with our children, work full time, or something in between? Do we learn how to cook to please our in-laws, friends, or (god forbid) husbands? Do we try a juice cleanse or give up gluten? (I know, very 1950’s housewife examples but that’s what is on my brain…)

A friend recently told me she thinks the harder choice is always the right choice. I’m not sure if I agree, but I am thinking about it. Does that mean we are wired to resist what is right for us? Does that mean, since we gravitate to whatever our white picket fence is, that it is incorrect for us?

I think the goal is to ensure we stay flexible. Maybe we’ll get that fence, but maybe we won’t. Maybe we fall short of other people’s dreams for us (so what?). Life’s challenges are going to arrive precisely when we are NOT ready for them, so all we can do is stretch ourselves farther than we think we can, be kinder to others than we think we can, and breathe deeper, more often than we think we need.

It seems to me, my dreams get closer – then farther – then closer. It seems I get that snow storm in May, but as soon as I am just about done heaving that snow off the proverbial driveway, the snow melts away on its own. 

I won’t wish my next struggle upon myself, but I also don’t regret having to use my grit to get to where I am. It makes my feel happier with whatever white picket fences do finally come my way…and appreciation is always a good thing.

The Art of Slowing Down (Without Slowing Down)

I am happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the presence of this elusive thing, but it found me. After so many months of turmoil – not all of it behind me by any means – I’ve found the ability to take deep breaths again. I’ve found the ability to wake up without panic, sadness, and the sharp pangs of devastation.

This could be because, on recent days, the sun comes through the windows and makes my eyelids red with warmth when I close them in its direction. It could be because I know I get to sleep in my own bed (enjoying to-die-for linen sheets, my sweet husband’s warm body beside me, and my little pup sleeping with his head on my feet) for at least a week straight – without hosting any overnight guests – for the first time in what seems like ages. Or, perhaps, I am happy because I’ve stopped fighting the unknown (at least for the moment).

Ambiguity has become such a constant for me. One of my dearest friends recently told me, “I’ve known you for almost a decade now, and there have been rare times you haven’t been in transition.” That hit a nerve. I hadn’t realized it was true until she said it. On one hand, I cannot deny I’ve been living a full, emotions-on-end kind of life. On the other hand, I’m exhausted. So, I’ve tried to perfect the art of slowing down – to steal nectar – when life won’t let you really slow down.

How is this done? I am still learning every day, but here are a few things people have told me lately that I am trying to incorporate.

-Exercise every day, but keep it easy. (I am used to exercising but of course I push my limits. Wouldn’t it be nice if I did more of it, but remained gentle with my body instead of using that time to, once again, mentally push myself? How nice to use it as a break instead of as another stressful, achievement opportunity.)

-Worry less, drink more. (This was my friend’s advice on getting preggo. I love the irony in it and the laidback, not-in-your-head-analyzing approach that is implied. She is classy, never drinks too much, and put a smile on my face by her assessment of what needs to happen next since it was unlike her to say, but such stress free advice.)

-Don’t do what others expect. Do what is necessary. (I know we’ve all heard this, but to really live it is challenging…and yet freeing.)

There is a lot of good advice in this world. I struggle to incorporate most of it. I’ve learned, though – if I can turn off my mind – sometimes I can hear the birds chirping through the open window a little clearer.

Humble Pill

“I want to ask a favor,” Francis told them. “I want to ask you to walk together, and take care of one another. … And don’t forget that this bishop who is far away loves you very much. Pray for me.”

Regardless of your love, hate, or indifference to all things Catholic, we’ve got to admit that this quotation from the new pope is quite beautiful. This is a stunning example of servant leadership. It makes me want to be more like him.

If we all took care of each other, imagine what you life would look like. So much support, so much ease in your decisions because you would know other spirits were journeying with you. We could all afford to be humble because we wouldn’t worry about being knocked down by someone else. We could all afford to love fully because we wouldn’t be emptied by others’ greediness with our gifts.

So, I am going to pretend we all walk together, pray for each other, and support each other already. I am going to take a humble pill and try to make my decisions based on my soul’s growth needs instead of how it might look on paper. Because, in the end, what do we take with us besides our souls?

As I do this, I ask you all to pray for me, too.

Soul Searching

So, I’ve been completely MIA on the blog for a while, but I’ve been busy soul searching. This is exactly when I should have been writing everything down but – instead – time gets lost in thought and emotional exhaustion. Some updates: I turned 30 (and the world is still humming about as if nothing has changed!), I started a new job, and I am still Keeping up with the Kardashians even though I know I should value my time more than that.

While I am contemplating how to extract the most positivity from my days, they are passing like wildfire. Here are some things I’ve learned in the last few months.

1. People don’t care what you do. They care about you. And, that’s it.

2. People are nosy. They can’t help but feel entitled to all your happenings.

3. People don’t need to know all your happenings. You still have a choice whether to tell all.

4. #3 is only true if the people in question aren’t your life preservers. The six or so closest people to you need to know everything in order to help you (and, refer to #1).

5. Rock bottom is a dancing line. It changes positions as you get stronger.

6. Your body really does protect and feed off your mind. Sickness & sad vibes go hand in hand. Protecting your soul will protect your body’s health (and vice versa).

7. A little sunshine and great friends will go a looongggg way.

Well, those thoughts aren’t mind-boggling, but sometimes your life gives you proof that cliques are usually true – and it makes you feel like you are relearning everything you already knew.

Be gentle. Be kind. Move your body. Drink red wine and dark chocolate and tell yourself it’s healthy because of all of those antioxidants. Serve others whenever possible.

I don’t know what my life will look like in a week, a month, or a year. This planner is out of her element, but I’m learning to ride the waves better than previously. I am growing, however challenging. I also am counting my blessings.

Done Good

Okay, so I’ve changed it, but a few posts ago I originally wrote about having “done good” enough. This is a loaded phrase for a few reasons. One, my high school running coach always said, “Girls, you’ve done good.” That was the ultimate compliment. He said it with a twinkle in his eye. He knew we actually “did well” but preferred to keep it simple – almost more pure in a way – and say we’d “done good.”

Well, the second part to it is that I now live in the deep South, where everyone “done good” or “ain’t bad” or “don’t care to” and we just “bless her heart.” I don’t have an ear for grammar anymore. Period. So…unfortunately, my life is going to be peppered with these mistakes while I live here and I just hope that, one day – when I escape “God’s Country” – I’ll find my grammar ear again. Until then, I hope you all (well, the five of you or so that know about stealing nectar!) can just overlook and enjoy! 🙂

Where Does the Light Come From?

Illuminated. Illumination. When I lost my job, deflation, restlessness, and confusion was abound. To realize I was not valued indefinitely. Ego. Check. I no longer was illuminated professionally. Did I reflect the light of my job, my title…or did the light come from within? In other words, do I still have it? Do I despair? Do I explore if I actually miss working for men whom may or may not have let me go because two months ago, after six and half years of noteworthy work and sacrifices, I confided in them that I might be thinking of having a family soon (when they all have no less than two kids each with wives whom stay at home)? Do I tell my parents? Do I tell my husband’s parents? Is it a sign of weakness if I don’t tell them? The severity of the secret seems to be somewhere between not telling them I am a drug addict (I actually am not) and not telling them I sharted in my pants very publicly at a work function (I actually didn’t do that either, thank God!).

Do you know what I did do though? The morning after the bomb fell, I made it my mission to save the pair of jeans that got shrunk in the dryer passed the point of return (which is the point directly following being able to wear them without creating a muffin top). I thought, well, I haven’t eaten in 16 hours because my stomach feels like it has gasoline and fertilizer in it after hearing the unfortunate employment news, so…I have nothing going on today…maybe I should rescue my jeans. I am a doer. I get things done. I like to have goals. I’m a little closer to fitting into them now than I was 24 hours ago or last week and, don’t they deserve another chance? Too many good things in this world are getting discarded one way or another…

I’m sure you are ecstatic to hear they live on to hopefully have another 4+ years of glory with me.

Superficial Ponderings of the Almost Thirty

So, on my (now) short journey to thirty, I am exploring those ego-centered questions that drive women to do crazy things. Do I try to cheat the calendar by doubling my normal workout routine? Should I buy wrinkle cream with a high concentration of retinol…or should I just get botox like Kim Kardashian? (Just kidding!) Is my career/personal life/savings where I thought it would be (agh)? At the heart of all these superficial inquiries is the real question: Have I done well enough or, possibly, have I done well enough to own my age? Women who tell their age are queens; they have nothing to hide and rule their own dynasties. Why not be proud of a full, prosperous life if you believe that is what you have created?

My whole life I’ve always been good at most things (except ball sports – I am TERRIBLE at ball sports)…but never the best at anything. Never the best used to haunt me. In my teens, it made me feel subpar and depressed. When complaining to my mom about my plight, she once told me, “…but, J, it is very hard to be well-rounded. You need to be proud of being pretty good at most things. A lot of people don’t have that gift.” Even though I am pretty sure I rolled my eyes at the time, her sweet words freed me from a life of not feeling good enough. It allowed me to learn, early on, that moderation was a worthy goal. It taught me to appreciate people’s quirks and resist putting anyone on pedestals – or cast them downward in rank – because of strengths and weaknesses. I think when we detach our age from our ego, the number stops scaring us. Further, if we detach our ego from whatever is haunting us, our ghost loses its power.

So, I will not turn my body into a slave for my ego. I will embrace wrinkles and TRY REALLY HARD to embrace the cellulite found on my rear and my thighs. After all, my face is just starting to resemble one that has earned some stripes via laugh and furrowed-brow lines, and I can still do a mean, white-girl bootie shake. I mean, really, what else is there for which to aspire?

Countdown

As I approach thirty, I think of all the things I’ve done with my life and those still to come. I’ve fallen in love and have gotten my heart smashed into little pieces. I’ve fallen in love again and married the chips to my salsa, the wind to my kite. I’ve moved halfway across the world and then back home again. I’ve moved across the country – which was unsurprisingly fun – and then I moved across the same state, which I found to be surprisingly much less fun and much more of a culture shock than moving across the country.

I’ve defended not having kids seven years into my marriage. I’ve defended working moms. I’ve defended stay-at-home moms. I’ve cried from the relief of not being pregnant. I’ve tried to get pregnant. I’ve cried because I wasn’t pregnant. I’ve cried in front of those I swore I’d never cry in front of: employers, coaches, hell…a massage therapist (yes, during a massage…aren’t I a treat). Would you believe I actually don’t have a reputation of a crier or someone whom falls apart at a pin’s drop?

Well, the countdown is officially ON. I have less than one month until my 30th birthday. (!) So, of course there are some petty, superficial thoughts bursting through my brain as the crossover approaches. There are also some deep “this will take opening a bottle of wine with my best friend” thoughts. I’ll go from a celebrated, “the world is your oyster” twenty-something to a what-do-you-have-to-show-for-your-life-you-are-not-so-young-anymore thirty-something.

As I’ve said before, I believe in commencement. Even though it would be easy to say this birthday is “just another day” and glide, I prefer to mark the occasion – contemplating it to the finite point where my husband stops listening – and celebrate the tidbits & tribulations, triumphs & tales, of this unique life, my journey on uncharted (preferably seafoam green) waters.

Stealing Nectar

I believe in prayer. I believe in celebrations and commencements. I believe in eating your vegetables and buying too many swimsuits because – the day you are destined to be on the beach – one might look better than the other four in your closet. I believe in indulging regularly, but in constantly different circumstances – so moderation presents itself in all things.

Stealing nectar. I think life isn’t sweet enough on its own. I think we need to steal the sugar we get in our lives. Work harder. Be gentler. Try to forgive. Pilfer as much good stuff from life as you can because you’ll always get surprise challenges and disappointments…so take a little sun when you can.

I say this as a woman prone to anxiousness and worry. I say this as the advice I’d give myself and, with enough practice, I believe I can begin to live this way without as much effort. I open this corner of the earth – this blog – with a prayer because I believe it’s the way we all begin anything worthwhile, spoken or unspoken.