Anonymous wrote that it had been almost two weeks since I had last written and it was time for another entry so I suppose I better think up an idea today and write when the kiddos get to bed tonight. BTW anonymous- you made my day!
Check back later :-)
Monday, February 28, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Look Mom- No Floor
I think it is funny how I decide what I am going to write about for my blogs. I simply let my brain think of a funky sentence "title" and then I just start writing based on that phrase or sentence. I was going to talk about how moving church was the other day (it moved most of us to tears), how many subbing jobs I am getting and have scheduled and how much I love subbing, I was going to talk about how I am the most terrified to sub for kindergarten and guess what grade I am subbing tomorrow? I just get so nervous b/c they need more than one teacher/aid and a very strict routine. I'm taking my Shel Silverstien (sp.) book with me in case I have down time and I am also taking name tags, and my award certificates for great behavior, great leaders, and great teamwork....this age scares me (even though I have a child that age). I was going to talk about how much fun I had at Grant's Valentine's Party at school today when I helped out, or how psycho my boys got after eating so much candy- but I am running out of time and need to get to bed and the only thing I could think of was "Look Mom -No Floor!"- I am referring to how all of the Valentines and decorations are all spread across the floor and the laundry is piled and ready to be folded by the chair and how the blocks and Star Wars guys are scattered perfectly in just the right places all over the floor. I think we have covered every inch of the living room floor. I noticed my Mom has become a follow now! Cool! Welcome Mom! So my title somehow came out like that....sorry- wish I had more time! Happy Valentines Day- but really if you love someone you really shouldn't just celebrate it one time a year. Tell them everyday and every time you think of it....So family and friends- I love you!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
How Did I End Up In The Belly Of The Green Eyed Monster? Jonah Got A Whale!
I have always wanted everything I didn't have and never appreciated the things I have as much as I should. Well- until they were gone. It's funny how sometimes those things you lose slowly turn to gold and all of the imperfections they had while you didn't appreciate them disappear when you lose them. It could be as simple as my old used Alero never having problems with paint chipping. My current car is ruined in my head because it was left outside during a hail storm and possible tornado and we never could tell if the chips that are now rusting were caused by that or the boys throwing their toys at it.... Now with every Alero I see~ I daydream about how perfect the car was....the acceleration and agility...the ease of parking that tiny thing...I can't think of anything wrong with it. Honestly, I see freedom when I think of the Alero. When we had Jake we had to have more room so we traded it in for the Matrix. I refused to drive a minivan- it was bad enough in my brain that I lost the freedom of my Alero (my last connection to my old life of pre-motherhood)- but to go from an Alero to a minivan.....? Ummmmm. NO! Now that we can't fit anything into the Matrix and I am getting clostrophobic I feel like kicking myself for refusing to get a minivan. I had to grow up. I just had a really tough time going from a free and independent person to a trapped stay at home Mom and I fought everything that came with it....for years. This is coming from someone who wanted so desperately to be a Mom and we tried to have children until we realized I had some medical problems that required I take fertility drugs to become pregnant. We lost a little boy with our first pregnancy and somehow I still had a hard time when I finally had a child with the idea that I could no longer go anywhere or do anything....SELFISH! So while I grieved for my independence and freedom - they turned to gold in my head. But as time went on I slowly came to acceptance of my role, and the gold started to rust and I realized it wasn't real gold anyway....the boys were.
I'm sure my Grandfather made some mistakes while I was growing up- but I sware to you- I can't remember one of them- not one. After he died and each year passed, he became more heroic and amazing in my mind. Right now he is looking down from heaven and telling me to spend my time doing something productive and not thinking about something so delusional. Whatever- so is my human condition. I don't understand why I do it- but I am aware that I do it. First steps.....
I read facebook and I honestly find myself so jealous of other people's lives I will spend the day depressed- maybe even a week based on one person's comment. As time goes on I wonder how much of what that person said was as perfect as they made it sound....I purposefully make comments on facebook about my life that are real and not always happy or pleasant- although sometimes oddly funny due to having young children. I do it because I just can't stand the possibility that someone else could be so hurt by me claiming things about my life that aren't so absolutely perfect. In all truth, I probably hurts people due to taking it too far the other way. I guess I just still feel like I'm in junior high after all these years. I know more, I am more competent and responsible but deep down I want the life she has, I want my kids to behave as well as her kids, I want the job I feel I deserve, I get angry when people get things they don't deserve and I feel left behind, I feel left out, and I feel like I don't belong. I hear my mother still in my head saying to me- "Don't worry honey- you just keep making the right choices, and following the right path and it will pay off...." But I guess I didn't think she meant that I would be 31 and still waiting. I tell my son the same thing and inside I cringe a little thinking about the pain he may also endure by taking the high road at times. The one that absolutely no one else is on....(you know the one- the one the county snow plow doesn't even go down during a blizzard , so if you live on it or are stranded on that road....good stinkin' luck...)
I had stayed away from my blog recently because I had visited other blogs and realized that I paled in comparison. They had blogger awards, tons of followers, comments, and I turned around to see I was about to be eaten by a green eyed monster. I looked at how many hits I had on my blog....4,000 ish and I thought to myself- either people are accidentally falling onto my page when they are looking for something on google or they read it and are too embarrassed to become a follower because they don't want to be associated with my ummmmm- how do I say it....odd and off-centered brutal honesty about my life. And how do you comment after I say what I say....? But- I realized why does it matter because I remembered that even though it stinks to be uninteresting to the rest of the world- this is for the boys. How do I always forget that? So while I was busy trying to get out of the belly of the green eyed monster I thought to myself- no fair how did I get in here? Jonah at least got a whale....
So here's the lesson boys: God wanted Jonah to be a messenger to warn the people of a city that they where making bad choices and Jonah didn't want to so he ran away. The story gets a bit metaphorical for awhile and when Jonah is on a ship at sea a storm hits and since he believes that God is mad at him he tells the sailors that if they throw him overboard the storm will stop- so they do and God saves Jonah by having a giant fish swallow him up. Jonah stays in the belly of the whale for three days- long enough to pray for forgiveness and decide he would do what God had asked him to do. Then God had the whale spit him back onto the shore and Jonah told the Ninevites that God was angry with them and that they needed to change their behavior or he would destroy their city. The king orders the people to listen and they begin to change their behavior- but Jonah is mad at God because he feels like the people should have still been punished for how terrible they were. He felt betrayed. Nineveh is spared and Jonah walks away from the situation mad at God. He builds himself a little shelter outside of town and pouts. He thinks that God should have destroyed the Ninevites rather than spare them. So angry is Jonah that he says he'd rather die than live!
What a tantrum. What Jonah is really angry about is that God has given the gift of salvation to a nation that Jonah finds undeserving. Jonah felt that it was wrong for Jews to be sharing their God with people they considered heathens. It may seem foolish to us that Jonah got mad at God for saving the Ninevites. Think about this, though. Are there people that you resent and would like to see fail? Are there those that have wronged you and you'd like to get revenge on them? This is just what Jonah wanted. He didn't want the Ninevites getting God's mercy he wanted them to suffer.
God's mercy and salvation is for everyone, not just those we think deserve Him. If only those that deserved His love got it, we'd all be headed for hell. Jonah never does grasp this. He continues to whine about his own condition but feels no pity or mercy for the Ninevites.
God tells Jonah, "11 But Nineveh has more than 120,000 people living in spiritual darkness, not to mention all the animals. Shouldn't I feel sorry for such a great city?" (Jonah 4:11 NLT) Thankfully, God does feel sorry for us and spares us in spite of ourselves. And, God can work through us in spite of ourselves. He was able to use Jonah to deliver a message despite Jonah's unwillingness and complete distaste for the message. But, Jonah suffers consequences for not doing things God's way. And, so do we.
So Jonah felt a bit jealous because the road he had taken and the days he spent in the belly of the whale and now these people were not even going to "get what they deserved".
There is a reason your mother has been waiting all her life for Grandma's words to ring true....God loves us all and if I stand around waiting for someone to hand me a golden certificate saying here's to you Joanna for all the lonely walks on the road less traveled- I would find it would never come. I am not better because I took a different path. I just took a different path. I only ask that you make good choices, be compassionate to others, be honest, keep faith in your life, and never, ever, ever keep the company of that no good manipulative green eyed monster.
Love, Mom
I'm sure my Grandfather made some mistakes while I was growing up- but I sware to you- I can't remember one of them- not one. After he died and each year passed, he became more heroic and amazing in my mind. Right now he is looking down from heaven and telling me to spend my time doing something productive and not thinking about something so delusional. Whatever- so is my human condition. I don't understand why I do it- but I am aware that I do it. First steps.....
I read facebook and I honestly find myself so jealous of other people's lives I will spend the day depressed- maybe even a week based on one person's comment. As time goes on I wonder how much of what that person said was as perfect as they made it sound....I purposefully make comments on facebook about my life that are real and not always happy or pleasant- although sometimes oddly funny due to having young children. I do it because I just can't stand the possibility that someone else could be so hurt by me claiming things about my life that aren't so absolutely perfect. In all truth, I probably hurts people due to taking it too far the other way. I guess I just still feel like I'm in junior high after all these years. I know more, I am more competent and responsible but deep down I want the life she has, I want my kids to behave as well as her kids, I want the job I feel I deserve, I get angry when people get things they don't deserve and I feel left behind, I feel left out, and I feel like I don't belong. I hear my mother still in my head saying to me- "Don't worry honey- you just keep making the right choices, and following the right path and it will pay off...." But I guess I didn't think she meant that I would be 31 and still waiting. I tell my son the same thing and inside I cringe a little thinking about the pain he may also endure by taking the high road at times. The one that absolutely no one else is on....(you know the one- the one the county snow plow doesn't even go down during a blizzard , so if you live on it or are stranded on that road....good stinkin' luck...)
I had stayed away from my blog recently because I had visited other blogs and realized that I paled in comparison. They had blogger awards, tons of followers, comments, and I turned around to see I was about to be eaten by a green eyed monster. I looked at how many hits I had on my blog....4,000 ish and I thought to myself- either people are accidentally falling onto my page when they are looking for something on google or they read it and are too embarrassed to become a follower because they don't want to be associated with my ummmmm- how do I say it....odd and off-centered brutal honesty about my life. And how do you comment after I say what I say....? But- I realized why does it matter because I remembered that even though it stinks to be uninteresting to the rest of the world- this is for the boys. How do I always forget that? So while I was busy trying to get out of the belly of the green eyed monster I thought to myself- no fair how did I get in here? Jonah at least got a whale....
So here's the lesson boys: God wanted Jonah to be a messenger to warn the people of a city that they where making bad choices and Jonah didn't want to so he ran away. The story gets a bit metaphorical for awhile and when Jonah is on a ship at sea a storm hits and since he believes that God is mad at him he tells the sailors that if they throw him overboard the storm will stop- so they do and God saves Jonah by having a giant fish swallow him up. Jonah stays in the belly of the whale for three days- long enough to pray for forgiveness and decide he would do what God had asked him to do. Then God had the whale spit him back onto the shore and Jonah told the Ninevites that God was angry with them and that they needed to change their behavior or he would destroy their city. The king orders the people to listen and they begin to change their behavior- but Jonah is mad at God because he feels like the people should have still been punished for how terrible they were. He felt betrayed. Nineveh is spared and Jonah walks away from the situation mad at God. He builds himself a little shelter outside of town and pouts. He thinks that God should have destroyed the Ninevites rather than spare them. So angry is Jonah that he says he'd rather die than live!
What a tantrum. What Jonah is really angry about is that God has given the gift of salvation to a nation that Jonah finds undeserving. Jonah felt that it was wrong for Jews to be sharing their God with people they considered heathens. It may seem foolish to us that Jonah got mad at God for saving the Ninevites. Think about this, though. Are there people that you resent and would like to see fail? Are there those that have wronged you and you'd like to get revenge on them? This is just what Jonah wanted. He didn't want the Ninevites getting God's mercy he wanted them to suffer.
God's mercy and salvation is for everyone, not just those we think deserve Him. If only those that deserved His love got it, we'd all be headed for hell. Jonah never does grasp this. He continues to whine about his own condition but feels no pity or mercy for the Ninevites.
God tells Jonah, "11 But Nineveh has more than 120,000 people living in spiritual darkness, not to mention all the animals. Shouldn't I feel sorry for such a great city?" (Jonah 4:11 NLT) Thankfully, God does feel sorry for us and spares us in spite of ourselves. And, God can work through us in spite of ourselves. He was able to use Jonah to deliver a message despite Jonah's unwillingness and complete distaste for the message. But, Jonah suffers consequences for not doing things God's way. And, so do we.
So Jonah felt a bit jealous because the road he had taken and the days he spent in the belly of the whale and now these people were not even going to "get what they deserved".
There is a reason your mother has been waiting all her life for Grandma's words to ring true....God loves us all and if I stand around waiting for someone to hand me a golden certificate saying here's to you Joanna for all the lonely walks on the road less traveled- I would find it would never come. I am not better because I took a different path. I just took a different path. I only ask that you make good choices, be compassionate to others, be honest, keep faith in your life, and never, ever, ever keep the company of that no good manipulative green eyed monster.
Love, Mom
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Fill me up
We all have that thing that "fills us up"...the one thing that keeps us wanting to get out of the bed on the mornings when all of our other loves seem to weigh on us like burdens. I haven't been "filled up" regularly since last summer. I am serious when I tell you I can connect the times in my life when I have been suffering with major depression and anxiety with the times I haven't had the chance to run with a regular routine. Running does something for me that nothing has ever been able to do. No amount of therapy, medications, love, hugs, gifts, (absolutely anything materialistic), or fleeting distractions can take away the grief and the loss I associate with the death of my running regularity. I am not a good runner- but I don't care if I run slower than the average person walks. It is simply the feeling that the running creates. The calm, the peace, the clarity, the rhythm.... and the lack of everything coming at me all at once....oh it is perfect. I'm just recently trying to get it back again.
I can't really explain how I lost it. The YMCA is really the only daily and constant location that can provide a babysitter and the chance for me to take the time I need to "fill up". When the boys reached an age where Jake could ride in the running stroller, but Grant wasn't steady or willing on his bike- I had no choice but to just let it go. Now I am at the point where neither can/(Jake won't) ride in a running stroller and Grant can't ride his bike on these roads safely-so what do I do with Jake?
Someone once told me that if I ever needed to go for a run that they would help with the kids. That same person told me on numerous occasions that any person who wanted to run like that "had to be insane". That hurt like someone telling you that your face is ugly. You can't help the way your face looks and you can't help what you fall in love with.... SO I found it hard to ever ask that person to watch the kids when I needed to run. I am also pretty sure the person didn't understand that when I wanted to go for a run that I would be gone for about and hour to an hour and a half. One time I returned feeling so great and refreshed (finally)....and I was greeted with: "I thought that you were just going for a quick run?!" So one route was ended and I used the YMCA as a running location again even though I love to run outside. I guess running around in a circle for an hour or more indoors can make you lose heart pretty quickly.... I fought through it until they resurfaced the track and closed it for a little while- DANG IT! I'm one of those people that will stick to a routine forever if it isn't broken for more than a week. Well, the track was down for awhile and then the YMCA closed for their yearly summer cleaning and repairs for a week and guess who hasn't gone back? I would love to blame the YMCA- The lack of babysitting- no help around here- living in someone else's home while our home is being built (I'm pretty sure that's what's happening ;-P Because if not, I think I will be admitted to a psych ward very soon! Don't worry people- it is happening and I finally have pictures to prove it!) ~Well I would love to blame it on Ted's work schedule, having none of my family around here, having my best friend living so far away (next to my family BTW)- I could love to blame it on the lack of sleep due to the crippling anxiety I have now- or simply the anxiety I have pretty much all of the time- I would love to blame it on how fast my heart races during a panic attack (I can rock a 178BPM!)- I would love to blame it on pretty much everything.......But the honest truth is that these are all excuses....All of them! In fact, I bet most, if not all of my perceived problems would vanish if only I would/could/should start running again. In fact I KNOW running regularly decreases my migraines, improves my mood, decreases most if not all of my anxiety, deepens my relationship with people other than the five people I see daily, gives me energy like I never have anymore, and makes me wonder why the heck I never chose to hire a Drill Sergeant to get me up at 5am every morning and chase me while yelling until I got out the door. So, Grant and Jake~ I don't know who I am talking to.... you two or to own self- but honestly Mom needs to look inward and fill herself up. Sometimes we can't look for other people to blame when we have the ability to walk through, under, above and around it all. Or run through it.....
Good luck boys. We can know the answer to thousands of problems, but sometimes knowing the answer won't get you there....passion, will-power, endurance, loyalty, dedication, using your feet and start walking or running-heck you may just need to crawl in the beginning...but those will get you there. (BTW- all those things I just listed sound just like your Dad- and if you listen to the very first words I spoke to both of you when you were born; you will be like Daddy! "Hello (Grant) (Jake) Mommy loves you! But please promise me you will be every bit of wonderful that your Daddy is and nothing like me!" (then we laughed)- but I really do mean it :-) Just emote more OK?
Amber sent this to me this morning- I loved it and now I have to share it with you too:
Last mile - run with joy!
One of my kids had messed with my phone (as usual) last night, so the ringer volume was turned low. I sleep with earplugs due to snoring dogs and visiting children, so I never heard the alarm go off at 5 a.m. The dogs must have barked when my brother Jon stumbled in at 5:15, because that's what startled me out of bed. I threw on whatever clothes I could find (Accuweather Real Feel said 21) at close range, skipped coffee and associated morning deposits, and fled to my car with a bar in my hand. I lamented the fact that, in addition to being freezing, it was pouring rain and I was wearing a bulky fleece sweatshirt (Luke's – so my wrists were gangly and exposed) and knit cap, but there was no time to atone for wardrobe sins. I was miraculously on time for our seven-mile pace run, but my run was definitely affected by my soggy, heavy clothing, the rain in my eyes without a proper cap, and my lack of bathroom time. Ah well, we did it, and the newspaper this morning said this: "If you happen to be reading this before sunrise, go outside and enjoy the warmest temperatures of the week." Tomorrow we agreed to meet at hot yoga in lieu of any run.
My brother made fun of me when I returned, looking like a drenched rat, saying that his fiancee (Roxanne) was wondering what on earth was wrong with us to cause us to go outside on a morning like this one. He laughed, and explained to her that we were psychologically unstable endorphin junkies. I peeled off my frigid clothes, soaked to the bone, and put my Old Navy fleece snowman pj's back on, promising myself a hot bath and a coffee after the whirlwind of lunch packing, last minute homework checking, and school drop off. I sat in the bath far too long, alternating between draining and topping off with scalding water. I know it's bad for my skin, hush, I don't care. I sipped coffee and thought about Roxanne's question.
I don't really think I am an endorphin junkie, because I'm not sure that I ever truly reach a runner's high. I do have more energy, an overall improved mood and perspective post run, for sure. After a really long or hard run, I sometimes treat myself to a soy latte at Starbucks, so endorphins and high octane caffeine could easily be confused. But here's the thing: running reminds me of what's out there, both out in the world and outside myself. And I somehow need this.
I can do perfectly ordinary things (wonderfully ordinary) like getting groceries, packing lunches, working, making beds, helping with homework, and driving to basketball practice. And I can do these things over and over again, and then over again. And again. In the midst of regular life, running is the touchstone that breathes adventure into my soul. I can feel the trail under my feet, the press of the hill, the gallop of the track, the burn of my lungs, the stir of wonder and possibility. Running reminds me that there is more to me than what is readily apparent much of the time. I don't always need to see it, but oh how I need to know it's there. Like having an alter ego, or a super-cool super-hero identity. Yes, to the untrained eye I look like a regular, middle-aged mom at the grocery store, but little do you know that before you were even awake, I burned off enough calories that I don't have to eat salad for lunch unless I feel like it. And I can sit peacefully though this meeting or conference call without going stir crazy because I am already pleasantly tired. I can drive to the same places on a routine basis, be on time, and be happy about it because I already blazed a trail of my own. I can encourage everyone else to become their best self, because I am asking more out of myself. I can discipline my children with firmness and kindness because I am practicing discipline myself. I can breathe through difficult situations because I am learning not to panic when it's time to push. I can better appreciate rest when I can clearly contrast it with effort.
I can't really explain how I lost it. The YMCA is really the only daily and constant location that can provide a babysitter and the chance for me to take the time I need to "fill up". When the boys reached an age where Jake could ride in the running stroller, but Grant wasn't steady or willing on his bike- I had no choice but to just let it go. Now I am at the point where neither can/(Jake won't) ride in a running stroller and Grant can't ride his bike on these roads safely-so what do I do with Jake?
Someone once told me that if I ever needed to go for a run that they would help with the kids. That same person told me on numerous occasions that any person who wanted to run like that "had to be insane". That hurt like someone telling you that your face is ugly. You can't help the way your face looks and you can't help what you fall in love with.... SO I found it hard to ever ask that person to watch the kids when I needed to run. I am also pretty sure the person didn't understand that when I wanted to go for a run that I would be gone for about and hour to an hour and a half. One time I returned feeling so great and refreshed (finally)....and I was greeted with: "I thought that you were just going for a quick run?!" So one route was ended and I used the YMCA as a running location again even though I love to run outside. I guess running around in a circle for an hour or more indoors can make you lose heart pretty quickly.... I fought through it until they resurfaced the track and closed it for a little while- DANG IT! I'm one of those people that will stick to a routine forever if it isn't broken for more than a week. Well, the track was down for awhile and then the YMCA closed for their yearly summer cleaning and repairs for a week and guess who hasn't gone back? I would love to blame the YMCA- The lack of babysitting- no help around here- living in someone else's home while our home is being built (I'm pretty sure that's what's happening ;-P Because if not, I think I will be admitted to a psych ward very soon! Don't worry people- it is happening and I finally have pictures to prove it!) ~Well I would love to blame it on Ted's work schedule, having none of my family around here, having my best friend living so far away (next to my family BTW)- I could love to blame it on the lack of sleep due to the crippling anxiety I have now- or simply the anxiety I have pretty much all of the time- I would love to blame it on how fast my heart races during a panic attack (I can rock a 178BPM!)- I would love to blame it on pretty much everything.......But the honest truth is that these are all excuses....All of them! In fact, I bet most, if not all of my perceived problems would vanish if only I would/could/should start running again. In fact I KNOW running regularly decreases my migraines, improves my mood, decreases most if not all of my anxiety, deepens my relationship with people other than the five people I see daily, gives me energy like I never have anymore, and makes me wonder why the heck I never chose to hire a Drill Sergeant to get me up at 5am every morning and chase me while yelling until I got out the door. So, Grant and Jake~ I don't know who I am talking to.... you two or to own self- but honestly Mom needs to look inward and fill herself up. Sometimes we can't look for other people to blame when we have the ability to walk through, under, above and around it all. Or run through it.....
Good luck boys. We can know the answer to thousands of problems, but sometimes knowing the answer won't get you there....passion, will-power, endurance, loyalty, dedication, using your feet and start walking or running-heck you may just need to crawl in the beginning...but those will get you there. (BTW- all those things I just listed sound just like your Dad- and if you listen to the very first words I spoke to both of you when you were born; you will be like Daddy! "Hello (Grant) (Jake) Mommy loves you! But please promise me you will be every bit of wonderful that your Daddy is and nothing like me!" (then we laughed)- but I really do mean it :-) Just emote more OK?
 |
| Grant Theodore Anderson December 19th 2004 |
 |
| Jake Richard Anderson September 27th 2007 |
Amber sent this to me this morning- I loved it and now I have to share it with you too:
Undercurrent of Adventure
By Kristin Armstrong
Paige and I ran Sunday's half-marathon strong and steady–we finished in 1:40, but best of all our last mile was a 6:45. It was hot and humid, funny because a massive cold front is blowing in as I type, bending the trees ominously outside my office window. Tomorrow's highs may hover in the 20s so Paige, Katie, and I did our Wednesday workout early this morning.Last mile - run with joy!
One of my kids had messed with my phone (as usual) last night, so the ringer volume was turned low. I sleep with earplugs due to snoring dogs and visiting children, so I never heard the alarm go off at 5 a.m. The dogs must have barked when my brother Jon stumbled in at 5:15, because that's what startled me out of bed. I threw on whatever clothes I could find (Accuweather Real Feel said 21) at close range, skipped coffee and associated morning deposits, and fled to my car with a bar in my hand. I lamented the fact that, in addition to being freezing, it was pouring rain and I was wearing a bulky fleece sweatshirt (Luke's – so my wrists were gangly and exposed) and knit cap, but there was no time to atone for wardrobe sins. I was miraculously on time for our seven-mile pace run, but my run was definitely affected by my soggy, heavy clothing, the rain in my eyes without a proper cap, and my lack of bathroom time. Ah well, we did it, and the newspaper this morning said this: "If you happen to be reading this before sunrise, go outside and enjoy the warmest temperatures of the week." Tomorrow we agreed to meet at hot yoga in lieu of any run.
My brother made fun of me when I returned, looking like a drenched rat, saying that his fiancee (Roxanne) was wondering what on earth was wrong with us to cause us to go outside on a morning like this one. He laughed, and explained to her that we were psychologically unstable endorphin junkies. I peeled off my frigid clothes, soaked to the bone, and put my Old Navy fleece snowman pj's back on, promising myself a hot bath and a coffee after the whirlwind of lunch packing, last minute homework checking, and school drop off. I sat in the bath far too long, alternating between draining and topping off with scalding water. I know it's bad for my skin, hush, I don't care. I sipped coffee and thought about Roxanne's question.
I don't really think I am an endorphin junkie, because I'm not sure that I ever truly reach a runner's high. I do have more energy, an overall improved mood and perspective post run, for sure. After a really long or hard run, I sometimes treat myself to a soy latte at Starbucks, so endorphins and high octane caffeine could easily be confused. But here's the thing: running reminds me of what's out there, both out in the world and outside myself. And I somehow need this.
I can do perfectly ordinary things (wonderfully ordinary) like getting groceries, packing lunches, working, making beds, helping with homework, and driving to basketball practice. And I can do these things over and over again, and then over again. And again. In the midst of regular life, running is the touchstone that breathes adventure into my soul. I can feel the trail under my feet, the press of the hill, the gallop of the track, the burn of my lungs, the stir of wonder and possibility. Running reminds me that there is more to me than what is readily apparent much of the time. I don't always need to see it, but oh how I need to know it's there. Like having an alter ego, or a super-cool super-hero identity. Yes, to the untrained eye I look like a regular, middle-aged mom at the grocery store, but little do you know that before you were even awake, I burned off enough calories that I don't have to eat salad for lunch unless I feel like it. And I can sit peacefully though this meeting or conference call without going stir crazy because I am already pleasantly tired. I can drive to the same places on a routine basis, be on time, and be happy about it because I already blazed a trail of my own. I can encourage everyone else to become their best self, because I am asking more out of myself. I can discipline my children with firmness and kindness because I am practicing discipline myself. I can breathe through difficult situations because I am learning not to panic when it's time to push. I can better appreciate rest when I can clearly contrast it with effort.
Although raising three children is the best adventure of all, this phase of my life is not marked by freedom–in terms of liberties and indulgences with time. These days I get to spend my time and my heart for Luke, Grace and Isabelle. But there is freedom in running. There is liberty and indulgence with time, even 30 precious minutes, if that's all the day affords. I am reminded–even if not one single thing on my calendar reflects it–that adventure is out there, always whispering to me, calling me forward.
Kristin Armstrong is a mother, a writer, and a runner. She has written six books, including her latest, Mile Markers: The 26.2 Most Important Reasons Why Women Run. Find it at Amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com, Borders.com, and Indiebound.com.
http://mamaslife.blogspot.com/ - Check it out!
I know my blog is lacking much- but I just would love for you to see my friends blog. Please check this out:
http://mamaslife.blogspot.com/
http://mamaslife.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Not really- but I so would if I could
I wote this when we were still trying to get our house disaster worked out... As you can tell I simply lost it!
Now I get why Grandpa was so adamant about me being a financially stable woman before I started my family and got married. I'm moving to New York to become a Radio City Rockette, or to Hawaii to join Mel and Judy, or Colorado to ski, or anywhere but here....
We all know I won't but I will keep on dreaming.... After all home is where the heart is and if my heart is with my kids then anywhere is wherever there are.
Now I get why Grandpa was so adamant about me being a financially stable woman before I started my family and got married. I'm moving to New York to become a Radio City Rockette, or to Hawaii to join Mel and Judy, or Colorado to ski, or anywhere but here....
We all know I won't but I will keep on dreaming.... After all home is where the heart is and if my heart is with my kids then anywhere is wherever there are.
The death and reserection of the Grandpa plant and other beautiful masterpieces.
Right before I left for Tres Dias in November, I was taking care of my house plants. I love my house plants and have taken pride in my ability to keep them alive in the chaos of my daily life. I barely feel as if I am alive most days, but I can look around the house and see the dozen of houseplants I have taken care of for over a year and they are a reminder that life can sustain with little. Give them water, sunlight, some change in location every now and then, a bit of plant food every month and fresh soil every four months- and they will prevail. Yet, this last fall one night there was an early frost on a night I left the plants on the back deck. I was worried that all of the plants would have died and I immediately grabbed them off the deck the next morning and went to work trying to save them. As the days followed it became clear that all of the plants where going to lose some leaves, but for the most part they all were going to be fine. Yet, another couple of weeks passed and one of the most valued plants I owned, (a plant given to our family at my Grandpa Melton's visitation/or funeral), began to lose all of its leaves and turn brittle. I came to the resolution that I had lost the plant. I was terribly sad and almost grieving for it. I found myself still trying to make the plant "come back to life" just in case it had gone into some sort of dormant state. I kept watering it and I added plant food to the soil and placed it in the best sun location in the living room. Grant wanted to know why I was working so hard on the dead plant. I explained the significance of the plant and since he knows the relationship I had with my Grandfather he also began attending to the plant. I watered my plants the day before I left for Tres Dias and I remember looking at Grandpa's plant and feeling such a deep pit of loss in my heart. I left it and moved on to this amazing and life changing trip. The whole time I was gone I felt more alive than I had felt in years. I felt as if God had saved the right time and place for me to stumble upon a moment in which my heart was ready to accept this faith rejuvenation and this reconnection and in someways an introduction to our Lord that I had never known. I will spend forever trying to express the value those three days placed into my life. I remember a moment at Tres Dias when I had suddenly realized something that I had never felt before. It was so powerful it melted me into a gushing ball of tears and emotion. My sister(in law) was holding me and I realized that another part of when and where God wanted me to feel and understand those things was right there at that moment and right next to Kara and while she held me up. I have never cried such bittersweet tears in my life. I could have filled a bucket. But-here comes the best part- I was forever changed and my heart was tore open wide and I was alive. It was raw, powerful, necessary, healing and planned my whole life.
When I got back from Tres Dias I was so happy to see the boys. When I walked into the house I saw the container that Grandpa's plant was in but what was growing out of it was a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. I knew instantly that Grant had decorated the dead plant- I can tell his decorating style. He likes to decorate everything. I was shocked and so amazed that when I left I saw a dead plant and when I came home it looked so alive. Another week went by and I watered the plants in the house. I couldn't help myself and I also watered the container with the decorated dead plant. The following two weeks I did the same thing when I watered the other plants- and laughed when it came time to feed the plants as I poured a cup full of the organic houseplant food into the container of the decorated dead plant.
A few days before Christmas, Grant and I found some more ornaments and we were trying to find a good place to hang them. We sat down by the decorated dead plant and started hanging some decorations on it. As we decorated, I moved some of the garland, ribbon and fake Christmas tree filler branches- you would never guess what we saw!? On the lowest part of the plant down by the roots were some new green leaves!
I always find it interesting when people tell stories of how they hear or see God in their lives. But, what gets me are the people who don't believe in God based on the lack of what they hear or see from God. I've never questioned my "conversations with God". Some people could argue the actual conversation part. It is nonverbal and mostly a simple understanding.
When I went to Tres Dias I was thought to be "dead" or dying in my faith- in my opinion. My connection with God was as brittle as Grandpa's plant. I was still watering it and feeding it. I went to church, prayed and talked to God. But, I was numb and lifeless. I went to Tres Dias and these beautiful decorations began to fly onto my body. I began to shine and sparkle and glow. I was excited to show off my shine and sparkle but worried that the dead and brittle part underneath might still be there and I might find when I got home that nothing was any different about me or my life. But as time went on I realized that I would have a piece of life poke out from underneath all my sparkle. It was in moments when just the right bible verse came into my mind when I needed it, or it was in those sad lonely or depressed moments when I heard beautiful singing and heard laughter in my mind....I heard a tiny voice say God loves you...and so do I.
It all gave me the courage I needed to take off all the sparkle and show the me underneath. I admit- I am partially coming back to life although next to the signs of progress show the dead brittle part of me I would love to break free from. I will in time. But, what is so miraculous is the fact that the transformation was much like the plant from Grandpa's visitation/funeral. The connection of the two is hard to ignore. It is times like those where I see God. I hear him say, "You may feel dead, or you may feel like there is no hope, but there is life even were you cannot see it and it will prevail if you nurture it. You must have hope-like the hope you had for your Grandfathers plant..."
When I got back from Tres Dias I was so happy to see the boys. When I walked into the house I saw the container that Grandpa's plant was in but what was growing out of it was a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. I knew instantly that Grant had decorated the dead plant- I can tell his decorating style. He likes to decorate everything. I was shocked and so amazed that when I left I saw a dead plant and when I came home it looked so alive. Another week went by and I watered the plants in the house. I couldn't help myself and I also watered the container with the decorated dead plant. The following two weeks I did the same thing when I watered the other plants- and laughed when it came time to feed the plants as I poured a cup full of the organic houseplant food into the container of the decorated dead plant.
A few days before Christmas, Grant and I found some more ornaments and we were trying to find a good place to hang them. We sat down by the decorated dead plant and started hanging some decorations on it. As we decorated, I moved some of the garland, ribbon and fake Christmas tree filler branches- you would never guess what we saw!? On the lowest part of the plant down by the roots were some new green leaves!
I always find it interesting when people tell stories of how they hear or see God in their lives. But, what gets me are the people who don't believe in God based on the lack of what they hear or see from God. I've never questioned my "conversations with God". Some people could argue the actual conversation part. It is nonverbal and mostly a simple understanding.
When I went to Tres Dias I was thought to be "dead" or dying in my faith- in my opinion. My connection with God was as brittle as Grandpa's plant. I was still watering it and feeding it. I went to church, prayed and talked to God. But, I was numb and lifeless. I went to Tres Dias and these beautiful decorations began to fly onto my body. I began to shine and sparkle and glow. I was excited to show off my shine and sparkle but worried that the dead and brittle part underneath might still be there and I might find when I got home that nothing was any different about me or my life. But as time went on I realized that I would have a piece of life poke out from underneath all my sparkle. It was in moments when just the right bible verse came into my mind when I needed it, or it was in those sad lonely or depressed moments when I heard beautiful singing and heard laughter in my mind....I heard a tiny voice say God loves you...and so do I.
It all gave me the courage I needed to take off all the sparkle and show the me underneath. I admit- I am partially coming back to life although next to the signs of progress show the dead brittle part of me I would love to break free from. I will in time. But, what is so miraculous is the fact that the transformation was much like the plant from Grandpa's visitation/funeral. The connection of the two is hard to ignore. It is times like those where I see God. I hear him say, "You may feel dead, or you may feel like there is no hope, but there is life even were you cannot see it and it will prevail if you nurture it. You must have hope-like the hope you had for your Grandfathers plant..."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)