This morning I slept in, till 7:45am!
Now, I know what you're thinking, "7:45am? What?! Ya call that sleeping in?" Why, yes, I do. As a teacher, that time is a luxury for me :)
So, I lounged around the house, fed my cats (they're both calicos and they love to be held!) and made myself some chamomile tea. I got dressed, made breakfast and looked out the window while I ate. This may seem like an ordinary day, but to a girl that equates herself with the Energizer Bunny, this was a taste of heaven! On a side note, I've been making it a point to cook myself breakfast before I leave for work every morning and I feel more energized, more relaxed and it sets me in the right frame of mind for the day. One day this past week, I only had a cinnamon raisin bagel with Earth Balance Butter and I could totally feel the difference in my work performance, my motivation, and the ability to face daily challenges head-on. Now, I know that I can't always expect myself to make breakfast every day, but I've come to the understanding that a good meal in the morning, sets the tone for the whole day.
A couple of hours later, and I find myself here in this coffee shop, writing. Actually, I've got multiple tabs open up at once. Do you ever feel like you can't just do one thing, like you have to try and get a little bit of everything done in order to feel successful? But then again, there are some days where I need to accomplish everything on a list in ascending order and other days, where I jump from one task to the other, without missing a beat.
Last night, I went to a comedy show with some coworkers. It was so nice to be able to get out and be social, to enjoy one another's company. I have come to terms with the fact that I need to incorporate more of this "socializing" into my life as I get older as well as take advantage of the opportunities that bring me joy. At this point in my life, those opportunities now include taking all day classes once a month to become licensed in teaching more versions of Zumba and it's HIIT counterpart, Strong by Zumba (SBZ). Through these opportunities, I've been able to network, meet more people with a desire to learn, and develop my extended "gym" family. In reality, we all need a healthy dose of physical activity, but more so, to incorporate wellness and spirituality (whatever that may look for you) while being acutely aware of our physical presence/being. We need to be able to readily identify the things that bring us the most joy and make it a point to allow those things movement and places to grow in our daily lives.
As I prepare for Lent, one of things that a guest priest at my church mentioned last week has stuck with me throughout this past week. He said, that instead of focusing on "giving something up" this Lent (which begins on Valentine's Day-Ash Wednesday! well, that's easy to remember), focus on adding something into your lives. Find out where your talents and gifts are and work on incorporating them into your lives in order to see where God and those talents align with each other naturally. Now, I've heard this message so many times before about Lent, and the importance of giving something up (which I will) and how giving something up allows us to focus on God. But his message struck a different chord inside of me. Perhaps, I was awakened that day and I heard it in a different way and maybe even, I was ready to hear it. But, it challenged me to try and make a way to bring my talents into my life that glorify God on a regular basis.
This week, I've made it a point to write regularly on my blog. I've signed up for different Zumba events that challenge me. This month, I've learned to listen to my body and when I feel the need to slow down. I know that it's okay go home, jump in my pajamas and be asleep in bed by 8 or 9pm. I've learned that it's exciting to go after your dreams and a little scary, too. I've found the process of applying to doctoral school both challenging and thrilling, knowing I am making yet another jump into the sea of the unknown, but it will help opportunities to arise to the surface and awaken passions inside of me that I never knew existed.
I've also realized that, in the past, I tend to put up invisible barriers or walls when I meet a potential guy in order to protect myself from hurt, from being afraid, or from things possibly working out. I've heard it said that sometimes, it's not things that scare us but things having the "potential" to work out, that scare us. I've recognized that, said it, and understood the need to slowly bring those partitions down. I now understand the honest and genuine care that my colleagues show me for wanting to "set me up" with a guy and the kind of different "happiness" that comes from a relationship. Though that hasn't happened yet, I am from the belief that a relationship that is developed in it's own time will be beautiful in it's own way. I am so thankful for laughter that makes me smile and for people that have turned to lifelong friends in the most unexpected places. And for that, I owe it to my close friends, colleagues, and parents.
And yet, I continue to sit and type, without having much of any plans for today. Just enjoying the light chatter of conversations around me, the familiar and comforting smell of my coffee with honey, and thankful for being alive and healthy.
And, here - I leave you with my favorite quote, which has brought up a topic of discussion lately about tattoos - if I were ever to get a tattoo (which I wouldn't) it would be this - or a take off of a cross in white ink that a friend had back in college):
"May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields
and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand."
~cheers.
Saturday, February 3, 2018
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
It's Not All About the Men. . . Love Your Neighbors, too - and Do 1 Thing For You!
Ever have those days where its so busy, you're so mentally drained because of too much going on, and you're in bed by 8pm? We're all entitled to one of those days where we crawl right into our comfy bed amidst our stuffed animals. (or kids toys) :) Yesterday, was one of those days for me.
For the past month, I've been learning to listen to my body. This is very challenging for me, because, as mentioned in a previous post, on most days, I am like the Energizer Bunny on repeat. Part of that is my job as a teacher and part of it is my work ethic and the way I was raised. I was raised to put in 100% into all that I do. I admit, I do take on a lot all at once, but I've become a bit better at recognizing that, taking a step back, and thinking about diving in before just jumping in the pool. One of the things that is hard for me to do is to be "okay" with saying "no" to opportunities sometimes. (It was Jesus who said "let your yes's be yes's and your no's be no's.)
When I take on too much, my body gets run down (as anyone who does). For example, in the summer, I usually work out like 5-6 days a week (and sometimes take double classes during the day) and I can build up that endurance. I've observed early on this year that, because of my work schedule and after school commitments, I can't do that, so my endurance is built up in other ways. So, I choose a couple of days that I know I can work out without question, and 1 or 2 days during the week that I know I can be "flexible" with in terms of my exercise classes. (On a somewhat related side note: I absolutely LOVE Zumba - and Strong by Zumba - SBZ and those two have brought me such joy!) The other days, I rest, or volunteer with CCD at my church, sing in the choir, or attend once a month PD's to be up-to-date with current research on teaching. Listening to my body is a huge step for me and I've been able to reap its benefits of enjoying my time participating in things, while being able to introduce new hobbies and/or practice them more often.
One of those hobbies that I have picked up and enjoy tremendously, is painting. I often go to the Muse Paintbar paint. The art instructors there have an incredible background in art. Many of them are artists in different mediums themselves. I always learn something new every time I watch and observe a different instructor. I also paint at home, have my own easel and acrylic paints. To me, there is something so profound about creating with your hands. For example, I'll see or picture something in my head that I want to paint, and take a mental "picture" of it (something that I tell my ELL students to do a lot when we are learning about a new topic) and try to paint it. My grandfather used to paint (among a dose of other careers/accomplishments) and loved the ocean (was in the Navy and Merchant Marines), so perhaps this is where I feel the most connected to him, like his spirit is still inside me and he still lives on when I engage in these tasks, such as painting or taking a walk down by the water in Narragansett.
As I get older, I realize that I need to do at least one thing for myself everyday. For me, that could be painting or working out, painting (again!) my nails or even reading. It could be making breakfast (pancakes!) for dinner or baking. It could be getting myself a coffee or just sitting in a coffee shop relaxing. I feel that in society, there is so much talk and focus on maintaining one's peak physical and mental health, that we forget about the wellness of our whole body. Even going so far as to say that the world we live in for the 21st century is one that is fast-paced and always "moving." Our culture demands that we are always attentive, ready to go, and "on-our-game." Yet, we forget in the midst of all of this that we can't help others well unless we take care of ourselves. And with that, comes the very important (yet overlooked) task of listening to our bodies.
Honestly, some of the best advice that I receive when I need to "pause" comes from 3 places: my parents, my hairdresser, and my neighbors. In order to make our world a better place (without sounding so cliché), we need to get to know our neighbors, however that may look for you. The place where I grew up wasn't a place where neighbors visited or talked to each other. Now, in the town where I live, I frequently visit and/or talk to my neighbors. Thankfully, we all help each other out in ways such as shoveling snow, bringing soup to an ill neighbor, leaving notes in mailboxes and checking on each other. One other place that wisdom has come from is with my very close co-workers. I'm thankful to be at a point in my life where co-workers have become lifelong friends. We all need support in our lives and I'm truly blessed that I've taken the time to get to know my neighbors, for they (parents, next door neighbors and hairdresser, to name a few) are the ones who are full of life-giving wisdom.
So, as you can see, this post shows that "it's not all about the men!" Haha. But, I bet that you're wondering, "all right, gluten-free gal. You got me hooked to read your entire post, and you usually tie "relationships or romance or men" in to it, so. . . where is it?" Well today, it's hidden.
I believe that in every relationship (especially as a woman), it is extremely vital to make sure that the three things of listening to your body, getting to know your neighbors, and doing 1 thing a day for yourself, carry on regardless of the person you find yourself spending the most of your time with. Though I'm not in a relationship yet, I do have a handful of close friends who share this advice or who lacks one of these areas. And, though I have yet to experience the feelings of romance or to be romanced, I do know that I want a solid foundation of these three things so that way when a guy comes along or I come along to a guy, I have my support system of hobbies, neighbors, and all around wellness.
It's been said that "beauty is only skin deep," but to me, a person can appear physically "beautiful" but not have these three things under their belt and be hurting inside. I don't want outer beauty to ever be the main thing that students seek to strive for. Rather, I want them to realize that their beauty comes from within, from their identity, their character, the very core of their being and who they are. Those things, to me, are what truly makes a person beautiful. Yes, that is difficult to teach, but by God, I will do my best every day to show them and teach them about who they are, to be that guide that points out their beauty in their talents, in the way that they care for friends, in the way that they are persistent with challenging math problems. For that, is true beauty. And hopefully someday, that will attract the right for me and I for him.
cheers.
For the past month, I've been learning to listen to my body. This is very challenging for me, because, as mentioned in a previous post, on most days, I am like the Energizer Bunny on repeat. Part of that is my job as a teacher and part of it is my work ethic and the way I was raised. I was raised to put in 100% into all that I do. I admit, I do take on a lot all at once, but I've become a bit better at recognizing that, taking a step back, and thinking about diving in before just jumping in the pool. One of the things that is hard for me to do is to be "okay" with saying "no" to opportunities sometimes. (It was Jesus who said "let your yes's be yes's and your no's be no's.)
When I take on too much, my body gets run down (as anyone who does). For example, in the summer, I usually work out like 5-6 days a week (and sometimes take double classes during the day) and I can build up that endurance. I've observed early on this year that, because of my work schedule and after school commitments, I can't do that, so my endurance is built up in other ways. So, I choose a couple of days that I know I can work out without question, and 1 or 2 days during the week that I know I can be "flexible" with in terms of my exercise classes. (On a somewhat related side note: I absolutely LOVE Zumba - and Strong by Zumba - SBZ and those two have brought me such joy!) The other days, I rest, or volunteer with CCD at my church, sing in the choir, or attend once a month PD's to be up-to-date with current research on teaching. Listening to my body is a huge step for me and I've been able to reap its benefits of enjoying my time participating in things, while being able to introduce new hobbies and/or practice them more often.
One of those hobbies that I have picked up and enjoy tremendously, is painting. I often go to the Muse Paintbar paint. The art instructors there have an incredible background in art. Many of them are artists in different mediums themselves. I always learn something new every time I watch and observe a different instructor. I also paint at home, have my own easel and acrylic paints. To me, there is something so profound about creating with your hands. For example, I'll see or picture something in my head that I want to paint, and take a mental "picture" of it (something that I tell my ELL students to do a lot when we are learning about a new topic) and try to paint it. My grandfather used to paint (among a dose of other careers/accomplishments) and loved the ocean (was in the Navy and Merchant Marines), so perhaps this is where I feel the most connected to him, like his spirit is still inside me and he still lives on when I engage in these tasks, such as painting or taking a walk down by the water in Narragansett.
As I get older, I realize that I need to do at least one thing for myself everyday. For me, that could be painting or working out, painting (again!) my nails or even reading. It could be making breakfast (pancakes!) for dinner or baking. It could be getting myself a coffee or just sitting in a coffee shop relaxing. I feel that in society, there is so much talk and focus on maintaining one's peak physical and mental health, that we forget about the wellness of our whole body. Even going so far as to say that the world we live in for the 21st century is one that is fast-paced and always "moving." Our culture demands that we are always attentive, ready to go, and "on-our-game." Yet, we forget in the midst of all of this that we can't help others well unless we take care of ourselves. And with that, comes the very important (yet overlooked) task of listening to our bodies.
Honestly, some of the best advice that I receive when I need to "pause" comes from 3 places: my parents, my hairdresser, and my neighbors. In order to make our world a better place (without sounding so cliché), we need to get to know our neighbors, however that may look for you. The place where I grew up wasn't a place where neighbors visited or talked to each other. Now, in the town where I live, I frequently visit and/or talk to my neighbors. Thankfully, we all help each other out in ways such as shoveling snow, bringing soup to an ill neighbor, leaving notes in mailboxes and checking on each other. One other place that wisdom has come from is with my very close co-workers. I'm thankful to be at a point in my life where co-workers have become lifelong friends. We all need support in our lives and I'm truly blessed that I've taken the time to get to know my neighbors, for they (parents, next door neighbors and hairdresser, to name a few) are the ones who are full of life-giving wisdom.
So, as you can see, this post shows that "it's not all about the men!" Haha. But, I bet that you're wondering, "all right, gluten-free gal. You got me hooked to read your entire post, and you usually tie "relationships or romance or men" in to it, so. . . where is it?" Well today, it's hidden.
I believe that in every relationship (especially as a woman), it is extremely vital to make sure that the three things of listening to your body, getting to know your neighbors, and doing 1 thing a day for yourself, carry on regardless of the person you find yourself spending the most of your time with. Though I'm not in a relationship yet, I do have a handful of close friends who share this advice or who lacks one of these areas. And, though I have yet to experience the feelings of romance or to be romanced, I do know that I want a solid foundation of these three things so that way when a guy comes along or I come along to a guy, I have my support system of hobbies, neighbors, and all around wellness.
It's been said that "beauty is only skin deep," but to me, a person can appear physically "beautiful" but not have these three things under their belt and be hurting inside. I don't want outer beauty to ever be the main thing that students seek to strive for. Rather, I want them to realize that their beauty comes from within, from their identity, their character, the very core of their being and who they are. Those things, to me, are what truly makes a person beautiful. Yes, that is difficult to teach, but by God, I will do my best every day to show them and teach them about who they are, to be that guide that points out their beauty in their talents, in the way that they care for friends, in the way that they are persistent with challenging math problems. For that, is true beauty. And hopefully someday, that will attract the right for me and I for him.
cheers.
Monday, January 29, 2018
A Letter to my Husband
"Dear Future Husband,
So, I met this guy. Haha - that's what every husband wants to hear their wife say, right?"
Okay, let's hit the pause button for a second. While you're at it, hit the rewind button, too. I want to back up for a moment and share something deeply personal with you. Are you ready? It's big. Okay, here goes:
Tonight, I ate Swedish Fish and Cape Cod Potato chips for dinner. Well, maybe a pre-dinner. I haven't exactly started cooking yet because I had all of these thoughts below floating around in my head and had to get them down on paper. Guess that's what happens when you haven't written in a while, right?
I bet you thought I'd come out with a BIG secret and it was going to be about the title of this post: "letter to my future husband." We will return to that in a moment. But for now, it is important to note that I had a non-stop, jam-packed day at work, felt like the Energizer Bunny, and Swedish fish and chips seemed like the logical alternative to settle down with the day that I had. In all honesty, this gluten-free gal sometimes needs a little of this "sweet and salty" food to get her over the mountainous days of teaching on rare occasions. Today, just happened to be one of those days.
Now, back to the topic that I started with: "Dear future husband..."
Back in 2013, a friend gave me a journal for my birthday. She wrote an entire epilogue inside as to what the journal should be used for. I used to write a lot as a hobby five years ago and then life caught up with me and it just dwindled down into sporadic spurts. I used to be really good about listening to my body and telling myself and my friends when they were taking on too much and needed to rest. Now, I see that we go through different seasons of our lives and I'm at a point where I'm noticing that I need to re-learn what "rest" looks like as a very late twenty-something.
So anyway, she gave me this journal with all of these possible suggestions for how to use it but, she had 1 request: that it had to be used to help me rest and yet, even made a suggestion that I took and used: let this journal be a collection of letters that you write to your future husband. This journal has always been at the foot of my bed where I keep all of my other journals that I have written in.
When I got home from work today, I took off my blue raincoat jacket, hung it up in the closet and went to my bedroom. I saw the journals sitting at the foot of my bed and picked up that tan colored one, creatively titled: "Letters to my Future Husband." :)
As I read through the letters that I wrote on an off between 2013-2015 (in 2016 and 2017, I didn't write any letters - there are a good amount of blank pages so maybe, just maybe, I'll start writing again this year!), I noticed a few things.
My journal entries include the sense of "longing" for a future man, kind of the way that God longs for us, or a wife or a husband longs for his/her spouse when they've gone away on a trip, or when they haven't seen each other for a period of time. In addition, I also noticed that with all of the interactions between guy friends that I had for that time period in history, I learned something about myself. Those men were put into my life for a reason to help me grow in understanding of myself, of my identity (one greatly rooted in God and my own values), and helped me in healthy risk taking. I didn't realize that at the time in which I wrote those entries that those situations would show me that or would be purposefully orchestrated for me to grow in those ways, but they did! And for that learning experience and for the ability to reflect on such interactions, I am thankful.
I've also realized that I like men who truly listen. Not those that "claim" to listen and just spit back information that you have previously shared with them. But, you know the ones where experience has caused them to be very good listeners and avid observers? It's those men, that catch my eye. That quality is few and far to come by in men, if you ask me.
And, it's not just men, but people in general. It's rare to find a good listener nowadays. It's commonplace to say that someone is a "good listener" but its like a pearl in a field, as one of the biblical stories says, that is the real gem of connecting with a listener. Because I feel that to be a good listener, you must have valuable life experience to support that. You must be able to relate to the person in such a way, and even sometimes, bring yourself down to their level to form a deep and lasting connection with them. I do have to say that there have been times in my life where I have not been able to connect with a person because I chose not to, or because I honestly didn't have that life experience but had that "friendship" and somehow, God helped me to relate to them.
I hope that someday, I will be able to relate to my husband. In my notebook, "letters to my future husband," (sounds like a book title, huh?) I have a lot of hopes and dreams for the both of us. Some of them are born out of personal desires and some come from a place of being a future couple.
Anywho, enough of my confessions tonight. Instead, I will leave you with an excerpt (somehow seems childish after reading this about 5 years later because I feel that I've greatly matured since this point.) So, to continue from this first part of this blog entry in quotes, here is the rest of it for your reading pleasure, straight from the thoughts of your favorite gluten-free gal:
"...so, I met this guy. I've known him for a while now, but we really only started talking at a house party yesterday. He pursued me, which feels strangely weird and exciting. He started to talk to me out of the blue (no pun intended.). . . anyway, when he talks or listens to me, he looks at me with those big eyes that just make me melt because he's intently listening. I've never met someone like that before. He's so humorous and makes me laugh - a lot. (I hope that you're funny, too.). . . "
So, I met this guy. Haha - that's what every husband wants to hear their wife say, right?"
Okay, let's hit the pause button for a second. While you're at it, hit the rewind button, too. I want to back up for a moment and share something deeply personal with you. Are you ready? It's big. Okay, here goes:
Tonight, I ate Swedish Fish and Cape Cod Potato chips for dinner. Well, maybe a pre-dinner. I haven't exactly started cooking yet because I had all of these thoughts below floating around in my head and had to get them down on paper. Guess that's what happens when you haven't written in a while, right?
I bet you thought I'd come out with a BIG secret and it was going to be about the title of this post: "letter to my future husband." We will return to that in a moment. But for now, it is important to note that I had a non-stop, jam-packed day at work, felt like the Energizer Bunny, and Swedish fish and chips seemed like the logical alternative to settle down with the day that I had. In all honesty, this gluten-free gal sometimes needs a little of this "sweet and salty" food to get her over the mountainous days of teaching on rare occasions. Today, just happened to be one of those days.
Now, back to the topic that I started with: "Dear future husband..."
Back in 2013, a friend gave me a journal for my birthday. She wrote an entire epilogue inside as to what the journal should be used for. I used to write a lot as a hobby five years ago and then life caught up with me and it just dwindled down into sporadic spurts. I used to be really good about listening to my body and telling myself and my friends when they were taking on too much and needed to rest. Now, I see that we go through different seasons of our lives and I'm at a point where I'm noticing that I need to re-learn what "rest" looks like as a very late twenty-something.
So anyway, she gave me this journal with all of these possible suggestions for how to use it but, she had 1 request: that it had to be used to help me rest and yet, even made a suggestion that I took and used: let this journal be a collection of letters that you write to your future husband. This journal has always been at the foot of my bed where I keep all of my other journals that I have written in.
When I got home from work today, I took off my blue raincoat jacket, hung it up in the closet and went to my bedroom. I saw the journals sitting at the foot of my bed and picked up that tan colored one, creatively titled: "Letters to my Future Husband." :)
As I read through the letters that I wrote on an off between 2013-2015 (in 2016 and 2017, I didn't write any letters - there are a good amount of blank pages so maybe, just maybe, I'll start writing again this year!), I noticed a few things.
My journal entries include the sense of "longing" for a future man, kind of the way that God longs for us, or a wife or a husband longs for his/her spouse when they've gone away on a trip, or when they haven't seen each other for a period of time. In addition, I also noticed that with all of the interactions between guy friends that I had for that time period in history, I learned something about myself. Those men were put into my life for a reason to help me grow in understanding of myself, of my identity (one greatly rooted in God and my own values), and helped me in healthy risk taking. I didn't realize that at the time in which I wrote those entries that those situations would show me that or would be purposefully orchestrated for me to grow in those ways, but they did! And for that learning experience and for the ability to reflect on such interactions, I am thankful.
I've also realized that I like men who truly listen. Not those that "claim" to listen and just spit back information that you have previously shared with them. But, you know the ones where experience has caused them to be very good listeners and avid observers? It's those men, that catch my eye. That quality is few and far to come by in men, if you ask me.
And, it's not just men, but people in general. It's rare to find a good listener nowadays. It's commonplace to say that someone is a "good listener" but its like a pearl in a field, as one of the biblical stories says, that is the real gem of connecting with a listener. Because I feel that to be a good listener, you must have valuable life experience to support that. You must be able to relate to the person in such a way, and even sometimes, bring yourself down to their level to form a deep and lasting connection with them. I do have to say that there have been times in my life where I have not been able to connect with a person because I chose not to, or because I honestly didn't have that life experience but had that "friendship" and somehow, God helped me to relate to them.
I hope that someday, I will be able to relate to my husband. In my notebook, "letters to my future husband," (sounds like a book title, huh?) I have a lot of hopes and dreams for the both of us. Some of them are born out of personal desires and some come from a place of being a future couple.
Anywho, enough of my confessions tonight. Instead, I will leave you with an excerpt (somehow seems childish after reading this about 5 years later because I feel that I've greatly matured since this point.) So, to continue from this first part of this blog entry in quotes, here is the rest of it for your reading pleasure, straight from the thoughts of your favorite gluten-free gal:
"...so, I met this guy. I've known him for a while now, but we really only started talking at a house party yesterday. He pursued me, which feels strangely weird and exciting. He started to talk to me out of the blue (no pun intended.). . . anyway, when he talks or listens to me, he looks at me with those big eyes that just make me melt because he's intently listening. I've never met someone like that before. He's so humorous and makes me laugh - a lot. (I hope that you're funny, too.). . . "
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Coupon Saver
I'm a sucker for a good deal.
Whether that deal be for food, clothing, housewares, a hobby, etc.
For example, today I went to the Muse Paintbar to paint. It's a great little place that allows me to relax and makes me feel connected to something greater. Though I do have to say, creating anything with your hands makes one feel good. I wonder if that's how God felt after he created Adam and Eve. Did he just take a step back, and relish in all that He did, and say "Wow." I'd give anything to be a fly on the wall of creation to hear, see, and experience what he felt during those first moments of creation. Anyway, I'm off on yet another tangent again. And, as a country song I listen to goes "...that's a song for another time."
So, I'm standing at my canvas, painting away all of my worries and all of life's insecurities at the Muse, thinking about this great deal. I saved up $30 and the painting cost $35. So, can you guess what I paid for it?
FIVE DOLLARS! Say what?!
Honestly, I've been on quite the "coupon kick" recently. Between the grocery store and CVS and other purchases, I've been saving all of my receipts to try and keep track of how much I'm spending (though it's not very much at all -with the exception of those never ending bills!) I take those receipts and collate them into an envelope. One of the reasons that I am trying to save money, is that I want to go back to school again. As my mom says, I'll "forever be a perpetual student."
One of the areas of my life that I am trying to save money in is through grocery shopping. Instead of grocery shopping every week, I buy a large amount of food every two weeks, freeze half of it (like meats, frozen veggies/fruits) and that has been a great way to save! If I need or want little things here and there, I'll just go in for the items on my shopping list (though that's hard to do but now, relatively easier). I've also noticed that with grocery shopping every two weeks, I throw away less food and eat more whole fruits.
Now, if there was a coupon or a formula for finding a guy. . . then, I'd be in luck. Haha - but really! I've been sitting here thinking, "wouldn't it be nice if there was a coupon for 'that guy?'" It would make the journey of finding him, or at least being aware of his presence, so much easier. I could just go into a place like CVS, pick him off the shelf and bring my coupon to the cashier to redeem the deal.
If only life were like that.
On the flipside, I guess if life were like a scan machine, then we'd lose out on the "mystery" that meeting a new person brings us. If my coupon redeemed a guy for me, then I wouldn't be able to have that initial encounter with him. I wouldn't be able to go out on a first date with him, because I would have already selected the deal. And, unlike the NFL, NCAA, or NHL (or any other sports league), I wouldn't be able to make a "trade" or choose an alternate from a draft pick.
So, in a way, I'm thankful that meeting a guy is not like cashing in a coupon. I'm fortunate that I can get to know a potential guy on my own terms, and in my own way, without the pressure of society telling me how or when I should meet a man. I know that someday, to the right guy, my accomplishments won't come across as intimidating, but rather, as an attractive challenge. Truthfully, I want a guy who will challenge me and teach me how to enjoy life, without worrying.
At work, I'm often told that I'm good at "working hard" but need to perfect the "play hard." And, that is something that I am learning how to do more and more, in my own way, and I'm enjoying this breaking out of my shell into a new creature kind of thing. And, even though well meaning people have tried their best to "set me up," albeit unsuccessfully (meaning its been just talking) - that's okay with me for right now. And though I can't really answer the question "Why haven't you met a man yet?" I can answer that I am enjoying my life as a teacher, future "back to school student," my friends, and spending time with my family. I am happy already. I don't need a guy to make me happy. When the time is right, I want a man who will support me in these things already, and add to my already established happiness. And, I hope that someday, I can do the same for him. . . wherever he is.
-cheers.
Whether that deal be for food, clothing, housewares, a hobby, etc.
For example, today I went to the Muse Paintbar to paint. It's a great little place that allows me to relax and makes me feel connected to something greater. Though I do have to say, creating anything with your hands makes one feel good. I wonder if that's how God felt after he created Adam and Eve. Did he just take a step back, and relish in all that He did, and say "Wow." I'd give anything to be a fly on the wall of creation to hear, see, and experience what he felt during those first moments of creation. Anyway, I'm off on yet another tangent again. And, as a country song I listen to goes "...that's a song for another time."
So, I'm standing at my canvas, painting away all of my worries and all of life's insecurities at the Muse, thinking about this great deal. I saved up $30 and the painting cost $35. So, can you guess what I paid for it?
FIVE DOLLARS! Say what?!
Honestly, I've been on quite the "coupon kick" recently. Between the grocery store and CVS and other purchases, I've been saving all of my receipts to try and keep track of how much I'm spending (though it's not very much at all -with the exception of those never ending bills!) I take those receipts and collate them into an envelope. One of the reasons that I am trying to save money, is that I want to go back to school again. As my mom says, I'll "forever be a perpetual student."
One of the areas of my life that I am trying to save money in is through grocery shopping. Instead of grocery shopping every week, I buy a large amount of food every two weeks, freeze half of it (like meats, frozen veggies/fruits) and that has been a great way to save! If I need or want little things here and there, I'll just go in for the items on my shopping list (though that's hard to do but now, relatively easier). I've also noticed that with grocery shopping every two weeks, I throw away less food and eat more whole fruits.
Now, if there was a coupon or a formula for finding a guy. . . then, I'd be in luck. Haha - but really! I've been sitting here thinking, "wouldn't it be nice if there was a coupon for 'that guy?'" It would make the journey of finding him, or at least being aware of his presence, so much easier. I could just go into a place like CVS, pick him off the shelf and bring my coupon to the cashier to redeem the deal.
If only life were like that.
On the flipside, I guess if life were like a scan machine, then we'd lose out on the "mystery" that meeting a new person brings us. If my coupon redeemed a guy for me, then I wouldn't be able to have that initial encounter with him. I wouldn't be able to go out on a first date with him, because I would have already selected the deal. And, unlike the NFL, NCAA, or NHL (or any other sports league), I wouldn't be able to make a "trade" or choose an alternate from a draft pick.
So, in a way, I'm thankful that meeting a guy is not like cashing in a coupon. I'm fortunate that I can get to know a potential guy on my own terms, and in my own way, without the pressure of society telling me how or when I should meet a man. I know that someday, to the right guy, my accomplishments won't come across as intimidating, but rather, as an attractive challenge. Truthfully, I want a guy who will challenge me and teach me how to enjoy life, without worrying.
At work, I'm often told that I'm good at "working hard" but need to perfect the "play hard." And, that is something that I am learning how to do more and more, in my own way, and I'm enjoying this breaking out of my shell into a new creature kind of thing. And, even though well meaning people have tried their best to "set me up," albeit unsuccessfully (meaning its been just talking) - that's okay with me for right now. And though I can't really answer the question "Why haven't you met a man yet?" I can answer that I am enjoying my life as a teacher, future "back to school student," my friends, and spending time with my family. I am happy already. I don't need a guy to make me happy. When the time is right, I want a man who will support me in these things already, and add to my already established happiness. And, I hope that someday, I can do the same for him. . . wherever he is.
-cheers.
Saturday, January 27, 2018
Another Year Older
"You're still a baby!" I've heard some people say.
Yet, what defines a birthday,
the ability to pay?
Why do we use "birthdays" as markers
to signal that a person has reached another year of life?
Why do we celebrate once a year when, in reality,
the celebrations are happening -
everyday?
Forgiving a friend who has wronged you,
a student who has learned a new math concept,
driving safely on the road,
having dinner with friends
an afternoon with dad -
those are the moments we should be celebrating -
everyday.
those are the memories that mean more than a
"once-a-year" type of thing.
Don't get me wrong,
I'm not indifferent to birthdays -
in fact, I love them!
I always joke with my parents when my birthday approaches that
"it's the most important historical day in history."
And this year, my birthday was (is) great.
Really, birthdays are what we make of it.
Friends, coworkers, enjoying a meal together -
laughing and talking, leaving our differences at the door and
communing over food,
and shared conversations,
and really good company.
And a birthday celebration with my parents.
As I get older, these are the things that matter the most to me.
To me, it's not about "where" you go, or the initials attached to your name, or how many years you've been in a job, but its about
the memories.
The shared experiences.
The "going through the grit" and knowing that others are
right beside you,
"going through their grit," too.
And honestly, just sitting here reflecting over a cup of chamomile tea in my frog mug, its the moments -
whether quiet with my cats
or full of laughter with friends -
or phone calls with my mom -
that take up the majority of space in my heart.
It's those "keeping of memories" that we ought to try, albeit almost extremely hard,
to teach to our children.
As a teacher, our students need to know and be aware of that "likes" and "follows" and "comments" are all that life is.
A middle schooler once shared with me that they are looking to reach 2,000 followers.
Wow.
I'm just looking to get through 1 day.
That student is looking for followers.
Jesus had followers just by being himself.
He didn't count them.
He didn't create a status for them.
He didn't use emoji's to share how He felt.
He just lived.
And, to be honest, yet again, I think we all have experienced the effects of social media, whether positive or negative.
I have.
And granted, it is beneficial when used correctly.
But to measure your worth,
based on what a computer says or a "friend" says online is not the kind of memory that I want to create.
I want to create memories of things that I enjoy,
and then share those memories with "friends."
Memories matter.
Experiences matter.
People matter.
Always remember that there is a face behind the computer screen, phone screen, iPad screen. . .
a face that longs to be loved, understood, cared for, and wanted.
On another note. . .
This is my first post in over a year. With that said, I am going to make some time to write this year, and to post more regularly, my thoughts, my musings, my hopes and dreams.
that's all for now, from your gluten-free gal.
more "confessions" coming soon.
cheers!
Yet, what defines a birthday,
the ability to pay?
Why do we use "birthdays" as markers
to signal that a person has reached another year of life?
Why do we celebrate once a year when, in reality,
the celebrations are happening -
everyday?
Forgiving a friend who has wronged you,
a student who has learned a new math concept,
driving safely on the road,
having dinner with friends
an afternoon with dad -
those are the moments we should be celebrating -
everyday.
those are the memories that mean more than a
"once-a-year" type of thing.
Don't get me wrong,
I'm not indifferent to birthdays -
in fact, I love them!
I always joke with my parents when my birthday approaches that
"it's the most important historical day in history."
And this year, my birthday was (is) great.
Really, birthdays are what we make of it.
Friends, coworkers, enjoying a meal together -
laughing and talking, leaving our differences at the door and
communing over food,
and shared conversations,
and really good company.
And a birthday celebration with my parents.
As I get older, these are the things that matter the most to me.
To me, it's not about "where" you go, or the initials attached to your name, or how many years you've been in a job, but its about
the memories.
The shared experiences.
The "going through the grit" and knowing that others are
right beside you,
"going through their grit," too.
And honestly, just sitting here reflecting over a cup of chamomile tea in my frog mug, its the moments -
whether quiet with my cats
or full of laughter with friends -
or phone calls with my mom -
that take up the majority of space in my heart.
It's those "keeping of memories" that we ought to try, albeit almost extremely hard,
to teach to our children.
As a teacher, our students need to know and be aware of that "likes" and "follows" and "comments" are all that life is.
A middle schooler once shared with me that they are looking to reach 2,000 followers.
Wow.
I'm just looking to get through 1 day.
That student is looking for followers.
Jesus had followers just by being himself.
He didn't count them.
He didn't create a status for them.
He didn't use emoji's to share how He felt.
He just lived.
And, to be honest, yet again, I think we all have experienced the effects of social media, whether positive or negative.
I have.
And granted, it is beneficial when used correctly.
But to measure your worth,
based on what a computer says or a "friend" says online is not the kind of memory that I want to create.
I want to create memories of things that I enjoy,
and then share those memories with "friends."
Memories matter.
Experiences matter.
People matter.
Always remember that there is a face behind the computer screen, phone screen, iPad screen. . .
a face that longs to be loved, understood, cared for, and wanted.
On another note. . .
This is my first post in over a year. With that said, I am going to make some time to write this year, and to post more regularly, my thoughts, my musings, my hopes and dreams.
that's all for now, from your gluten-free gal.
more "confessions" coming soon.
cheers!
Sunday, July 2, 2017
Bus Trips
Over the past month, a couple of people have asked if I had written on my blog recently. It's ironic, really, how time has a way of getting away from us, of speeding up, with no sign of slowing down. I've noticed that when time moves quickly, as it seems to do when we age, we come to points in our lives when we are challenged to catch up to it. One day, I'm 20 and the next, I'm nearing my 30's. One way that has personally worked for me in the area of pausing, is to intentionally reflect on life through activities that bring me joy.
Within the past week, I returned from a bus trip to Canada. I forgot how long a ride in a tour bus could be. After hour # 2, I had recollections of my college days, where I travelled to New Orleans, Louisiana for 2 spring breaks to where I worked with a team from Habitat for Humanity and the St. Bernard's Project to rebuild houses from Hurricane Katrina. A piece of my heart was left in New Orleans, as that famous song is noted for saying, and I hope to be back again one day. I seek to return to the areas I loved the most and those where I developed the strongest connection: The Lower Ninth Ward, Blair Grocery. The French Quarter was a nighttime favorite, listening to the strain of jazz music by favorites such as Louis Armstrong - with the hurt and passion of the years following Katrina, spill out of clubs in perfect harmony through the haunting sounds of my favorite instrument section of all: the brass beauties. The lingering sounds and melody of trumpets, trombones, cornets, etc. swirl in and out of the bars and restaurants as I walk on cobblestone road, living in a time and an age so different from my own, yet in a way, eerily similar.
On my bus trip, I was reminded again of how much I love books, of the pleasure of reading, of being satisfied with traveling to different worlds through the turning of a page with my fingertips. As time sped up and slowed in between traffic through the vast and breathtaking mountains of Maine, the time change was evident outside my window through the position of the sun, I realized that I need to take time to enjoy life, not just the occasional moose and deer that navigated in and out of the trees as our climb up the mountains ensued. I feel that during the hot, dog-days of summer, I am much more open to unstructured times of learning about myself, of growth and maturity, and of investing in my life and those around me. However, this same mindset needs to be applied throughout the school year as well and I need to be more mindful of replacing obvious open pockets of time with hobbies and activities (such as reading, writing, and painting) that I enjoy rather than staring at my phone through social media.
One of my goals this summer is to make more of a personal effort to do these things and engage with people that share different mindsets and outlooks on life than I do, in order to learn more about my world that I inhabit everyday.
You see, as I get older, I realize and understand that life is not a race. It is not about speeding up and slowing down in a bus on a highway, just brazenly passing in and out of exits and the on-and off ramps of life. It is not merely stopping the bus to view a "sight" or a "historical monument" and then continuing on our journey. Instead, it is getting lost in the moment, learning from others, having wisdom to refrain from the teaching and allowing myself to "be taught." Following a path where the destination may be foggy or unclear needs to be my prerogative rather than always the clear and certain path. Because, it is during those unplanned road trips, that the greatest learning ever takes place: the one inside of you.
Within the past week, I returned from a bus trip to Canada. I forgot how long a ride in a tour bus could be. After hour # 2, I had recollections of my college days, where I travelled to New Orleans, Louisiana for 2 spring breaks to where I worked with a team from Habitat for Humanity and the St. Bernard's Project to rebuild houses from Hurricane Katrina. A piece of my heart was left in New Orleans, as that famous song is noted for saying, and I hope to be back again one day. I seek to return to the areas I loved the most and those where I developed the strongest connection: The Lower Ninth Ward, Blair Grocery. The French Quarter was a nighttime favorite, listening to the strain of jazz music by favorites such as Louis Armstrong - with the hurt and passion of the years following Katrina, spill out of clubs in perfect harmony through the haunting sounds of my favorite instrument section of all: the brass beauties. The lingering sounds and melody of trumpets, trombones, cornets, etc. swirl in and out of the bars and restaurants as I walk on cobblestone road, living in a time and an age so different from my own, yet in a way, eerily similar.
On my bus trip, I was reminded again of how much I love books, of the pleasure of reading, of being satisfied with traveling to different worlds through the turning of a page with my fingertips. As time sped up and slowed in between traffic through the vast and breathtaking mountains of Maine, the time change was evident outside my window through the position of the sun, I realized that I need to take time to enjoy life, not just the occasional moose and deer that navigated in and out of the trees as our climb up the mountains ensued. I feel that during the hot, dog-days of summer, I am much more open to unstructured times of learning about myself, of growth and maturity, and of investing in my life and those around me. However, this same mindset needs to be applied throughout the school year as well and I need to be more mindful of replacing obvious open pockets of time with hobbies and activities (such as reading, writing, and painting) that I enjoy rather than staring at my phone through social media.
One of my goals this summer is to make more of a personal effort to do these things and engage with people that share different mindsets and outlooks on life than I do, in order to learn more about my world that I inhabit everyday.
You see, as I get older, I realize and understand that life is not a race. It is not about speeding up and slowing down in a bus on a highway, just brazenly passing in and out of exits and the on-and off ramps of life. It is not merely stopping the bus to view a "sight" or a "historical monument" and then continuing on our journey. Instead, it is getting lost in the moment, learning from others, having wisdom to refrain from the teaching and allowing myself to "be taught." Following a path where the destination may be foggy or unclear needs to be my prerogative rather than always the clear and certain path. Because, it is during those unplanned road trips, that the greatest learning ever takes place: the one inside of you.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Musings from the Miss
Sometimes, I notice it more deeply, like when I drive home after a long's day work, or I sit at the kitchen table, eating my supper of defrosted frozen chicken soup, watching the sunset hide away for the night. Even still, it happens when, by chance, I have a spontaneous idea that I'd like to do, but no one to share it with. I've always been an independent woman, which directly stems from my upbringing, but I've experienced, firsthand, the trials, the roads, and the growing that has blossomed me into the woman that I am today.
I notice it in my house by myself; the way that the golden hour caresses the exposed brick in my living room, the way that the light is so inviting over my paw print blanket, illuminating my cats whiskers to a softness that even a mother towards her newborn can't fathom. I hear it in the church bells and at times, I see it at the grocery store with the elderly couple hand-in-hand. I see it in the way a father cuts up pancakes for his daughter over breakfast.
This sense of "togetherness," of "longing," of wanting to share one's life with someone else is that which I speak of. Sometimes, it hits me at the most inopportune times, while other times, I "store" that memory in the back of head, waiting until I spot that characteristic in a man in which I can experience that someday.
It's true, I believe, how "society" says (or whatever your view of "society" may be), that singleness is a season. For some, that season can be long, and for others, that season may be short. Still, that season may have spurts of togetherness and separation, such as a widow. Hopefully, in every season, you grow, and you're pruned, and you blossom, and you bud, and you grow some more, and are pruned, yet again. In fact, I would argue, that for all of our lives, we seek to grow more into the people that we are created to be, regardless of our belief system(s).
Honestly, as a late twenty-something, it's hard to pick up where you left off with friends when a majority of them are either married, in relationships, having kids, have moved, or are newly married. Unlike that group, I only have to be concerned (though not self-centeredly, to say the least) about only one person: me. To be truthful to all of you readers out there, when I have an idea of something that I'd like to do, like go out to eat a restaurant, or see a movie, or go painting, I think of a friend I'd like to go with and then immediately, my options begin to narrow. Just like a thesis statement, I go from the friends who are married, to those who have kids, to those who are in relationships, etc. Most of the time, I go by myself, because 'why not?' Why wait for someone when you can experience it for yourself? Later on, I can sure the memory with a significant other.
And, social media is a feat all in itself. I've been trying to take small "spurts" of time away from this type of technology to realign myself with what's most important in my life; the values, and beliefs, and mission that I find essential to a fulfilling and satisfying day, week, month, and year.
To be fair, this season of singleness has come with it's perks. For example, it's nice prepping food for the week for just "one." Even from grocery shopping to a little "retail therapy" (hey, we're all guilty of that, right?) to those infamous trips to the country store where I long for that 25 minute car ride to just "think." I've been so happy to be able to use this season of being single to grow as a woman in both my career in teaching, through my local church helping kids, establishing relationships with my seasoned neighbors, and just last year, starting to explore and travel the world for a bit on my own.
Some people may talk about the "freedom" that singleness brings; and, I'd be amiss if I didn't touch upon that, too - at least for a few sentences. I love the freedom to be able to go to a coffee shop, sit with a good book, a cup of tea and just read without the thought of having to go "do something" or "meet with someone." It's in these times, where I love to "people watch." I enjoy watching the interactions that people have with each other, at coffee shops, bookstores, libraries, and other frequented places.
And, it's at these times where I feel the most at peace with myself (and even with my cats on a long winter's night) where I am truly content and think "it would be nice to share this "moment" with another person someday. I now realize that's what my parents have hoped for me all along; that is, to be established in my career, exercise my independence, travel, and be happy.
Being happy with myself, with my job, and with life, in general are things that are all very important to me. And, I love doing acts of kindness for people that I may or may not know.
Recently, I've come to the understanding that my parents want for me what they have had together for all of these years: to be happy with myself in life, and, on the other hand, to experience that happiness with another person.
And, it will come in time. "Every good and perfect gift comes down from the Father of Heavenly lights." God is just prepping my heart, kind of like the same way that I prep a lesson plan.
-cheers.
I notice it in my house by myself; the way that the golden hour caresses the exposed brick in my living room, the way that the light is so inviting over my paw print blanket, illuminating my cats whiskers to a softness that even a mother towards her newborn can't fathom. I hear it in the church bells and at times, I see it at the grocery store with the elderly couple hand-in-hand. I see it in the way a father cuts up pancakes for his daughter over breakfast.
This sense of "togetherness," of "longing," of wanting to share one's life with someone else is that which I speak of. Sometimes, it hits me at the most inopportune times, while other times, I "store" that memory in the back of head, waiting until I spot that characteristic in a man in which I can experience that someday.
It's true, I believe, how "society" says (or whatever your view of "society" may be), that singleness is a season. For some, that season can be long, and for others, that season may be short. Still, that season may have spurts of togetherness and separation, such as a widow. Hopefully, in every season, you grow, and you're pruned, and you blossom, and you bud, and you grow some more, and are pruned, yet again. In fact, I would argue, that for all of our lives, we seek to grow more into the people that we are created to be, regardless of our belief system(s).
Honestly, as a late twenty-something, it's hard to pick up where you left off with friends when a majority of them are either married, in relationships, having kids, have moved, or are newly married. Unlike that group, I only have to be concerned (though not self-centeredly, to say the least) about only one person: me. To be truthful to all of you readers out there, when I have an idea of something that I'd like to do, like go out to eat a restaurant, or see a movie, or go painting, I think of a friend I'd like to go with and then immediately, my options begin to narrow. Just like a thesis statement, I go from the friends who are married, to those who have kids, to those who are in relationships, etc. Most of the time, I go by myself, because 'why not?' Why wait for someone when you can experience it for yourself? Later on, I can sure the memory with a significant other.
And, social media is a feat all in itself. I've been trying to take small "spurts" of time away from this type of technology to realign myself with what's most important in my life; the values, and beliefs, and mission that I find essential to a fulfilling and satisfying day, week, month, and year.
To be fair, this season of singleness has come with it's perks. For example, it's nice prepping food for the week for just "one." Even from grocery shopping to a little "retail therapy" (hey, we're all guilty of that, right?) to those infamous trips to the country store where I long for that 25 minute car ride to just "think." I've been so happy to be able to use this season of being single to grow as a woman in both my career in teaching, through my local church helping kids, establishing relationships with my seasoned neighbors, and just last year, starting to explore and travel the world for a bit on my own.
Some people may talk about the "freedom" that singleness brings; and, I'd be amiss if I didn't touch upon that, too - at least for a few sentences. I love the freedom to be able to go to a coffee shop, sit with a good book, a cup of tea and just read without the thought of having to go "do something" or "meet with someone." It's in these times, where I love to "people watch." I enjoy watching the interactions that people have with each other, at coffee shops, bookstores, libraries, and other frequented places.
And, it's at these times where I feel the most at peace with myself (and even with my cats on a long winter's night) where I am truly content and think "it would be nice to share this "moment" with another person someday. I now realize that's what my parents have hoped for me all along; that is, to be established in my career, exercise my independence, travel, and be happy.
Being happy with myself, with my job, and with life, in general are things that are all very important to me. And, I love doing acts of kindness for people that I may or may not know.
Recently, I've come to the understanding that my parents want for me what they have had together for all of these years: to be happy with myself in life, and, on the other hand, to experience that happiness with another person.
And, it will come in time. "Every good and perfect gift comes down from the Father of Heavenly lights." God is just prepping my heart, kind of like the same way that I prep a lesson plan.
-cheers.
Sunday, January 15, 2017
You Always Remember Your First Love
First loves.
It's a thought that has crossed my mind more than once recently. Intersections, forks in the road, gravel dirt roads, all leading to that "first" love.
One of my favorite things to do when I find myself in the presence of a seasoned couple, a pair of newlyweds, a "just friends" (c'mon, we've all heard or been a part of that story before!), is to ask the question, "How did you first meet?" I'm fascinated by their "stories," of how couples meet through a mutual friend, at a party, on a dating site, in a coffee shop, in their professions, or even, as high school sweethearts. For me, I enjoy being a part of "their" audience, for however long or short that conversational story may be, as they reel their members in with a simple, quaint, rocky, or challenging dialogue of how their love came to be. The gleam in their eyes says it all. It's amazing to see how much they recollect from their first times of an initial meeting. Our brains have ways of remembering those finite details that may seem insignificant to the listener, but oh, so important to the couple at hand. From the striking red dress she wore, to the dapper looking robin egg blue eyed guy, to the way he looked at her, as though looking through her as she passed by, to the way he opened the car door for her (proof that chivalry is not dead). Perhaps, chivalry just resurrecting in a modern way for our 21st century.
I think it's safe to say that we tend to think of "first loves" in the romantic form. And, there is some justification in that line of thought. For many, we learn about love from our parents, relatives, siblings, coworkers, an experience we had when we were little, or a combination of all. Gosh, there are many instances in which I can recall examples of what love "is" and what love "is not."
Yet, my experience of "first loves" is probably not like everybody else's. First loves can be, and should be, for that matter, so much more than the "romantic" aspect. First loves, in my opinion, extend far to the crevices of the mountain, beckoning the artist within all of us to come forth and create a beautiful masterpiece of life. Years later, we shall look back, and reflect (though the "act" of reflecting may be something that we do everyday. As a teacher, I can relate to that. I'm constantly reflecting!) First loves reach to the corners of our hearts, in which we can only know beyond good measure that they are there. They expose our deepest desires and inner passions that God has put within us to share with the world.
As a young woman in her late twenties, I've come to this realization more and more each and every day. A student teacher recently asked me the question "Did I always know that I wanted to be a teacher?" And, as I sat in that chair in my classroom, I saw that same gleam in this student teachers eyes that I see in my friends eyes when I ask them about how they met their future spouse, boyfriend, or girlfriend. I soon harbored that twinkle in my own eyes, too - explaining my love for dance - that this part of me is still alive, though I do not dance anymore. I recalled those 13 years of dance fondly and look forward to a way to tie it in with my teaching sometime in the future.
Through writing, I feel connected to something greater than myself. As cliché as that may sound, I believe that my grandfather is present with me when I write; though I unfortunately do not have the luxury to get to do it often. Through poetry, grading college papers, planning for elementary school, and working on ways to help the teachers that I coach, I see my grandfather in every aspect of it. I must admit, on some days, the work becomes grueling, but I always remember the phrase he said: "Don't worry about the time on the clock. Just get your work done and then you can take off your socks." Yet still, another phrase, one of my favorites, "If it starts to become like a 'job' to you, get out." For him, teaching was always equated with "mission work," rather than a profession, a job, or a 9-3 work week.
Whether preparing a lesson or writing a poem (there is something so powerful about putting a pencil or a pen to paper!), the act of creating and developing my series of "first loves" brings me great joy. To be honest, I need to do a better job of creating more pockets of time within my workweek to hone in on these "first loves." For example, when I dabble in the painting world, I feel connected to my grandfather, too. I've never taken any painting classes, but have tried to practice when I can. Sometimes, I go months at a time without picking up a paintbrush. I am reminded of my grandfather, who was an artist (though he was a serviceman, a teacher, and Principal, among other things, too.) And I hear his words, "keep practicing." When it's something that we want and that we are passionate about, we will work at it.
Sunday afternoons in my kitchen are phenomenal. No kidding! Though it signals the start of another work week and setting my alarm to 5:00am once again, I do enjoy my times in the kitchen. You see, I learned to cook from my dad, when I watched him on my tippy toes in the kitchen as a little girl. Cooking, like baking, relaxes me. As I prep my meals for the week, I get so excited when I see the color and arrangements of food in my head, that I immediately have to put them on the plates. It's so refreshingly satisfying, like a glass of iced cold water when you finish from a long run or a workout. You step back, and look at what you have created with your hands. Our hands are powerful tools in this world, ya know :)
My friends, writing, painting, cooking, and more- those are my first loves. Having a good book in my hands with a cup of tea reminds me of my mom and the love of reading that she instilled in me as a young girl. I loved our trips to the library. Sometimes, I wish I could relive those simpler, innocent days again. I long for those times where I can walk into a bookstore, pick up an opened book off the shelf, be the first to crack it open, and smell its pages. It's like Christmas every day!
So, you see, first loves don't have to be the "romantic" kind. Yet, I would be amiss without sharing just 1 story about a "first love." Lets make that a "few stories," as it began when I was in daycare.
There was this boy that attended the daycare that I was in (well several boys, if you must know :) that I was absolutely smitten with. My first kiss was when he backed me up against the metal fence and planted one on me right on the lips.
We all had our share of elementary and middle school "crushes," and hormones getting in the way of our studies. Remember those days? I live for the days when we can write handwritten notes to each other again. There were those "occasions" where I perfected passing notes back and forth between rows and feet dangling under desks.
High school brought its own share of transitions. As I explained to the student teacher about my first love for dance, I realized that a part of it tied in with a guy. As all good love stories go, yes, I had a high school crush, well a few- but they all fizzled away rather quickly. Like I always say "lots of boys, but no men."
Yet, throughout my primary, secondary and college years (both undergraduate and graduate), I had guys that I liked, but my focus was always on my schoolwork. My parents instilled that mantra into me from a very early age and I guess, I just didn't have time for "boys," really, because I was always busy writing a paper, being chauffeured to basketball, 4 hours of dance on a Saturday, French horn and piano lessons, horse back riding, skating, and summer camps. These activities kept me "busy" in a good way, "out of trouble," as you say, and saved me from a lot of unnecessary heartache growing up. Even now, as an adult, I had a few "first loves" that I fell for incredibly hard, but learned after several years to "let it go" as the flowers fade with the passing of each season. Ever experience those times where both of you are too shy to name the elephant in the room but quite content to be "just friends?" Yet, when you get together, you "feel" that "electricity" between the two of you?
Only when we truly allow ourselves to "let go" of past experiences, expectations, views, and thoughts, can we open the door for new experiences, expectations, views, and thoughts to permeate our homes, our hearts, and our minds. And, as a single lady right now, approaching her almost 28th year, that is precisely what I am seeking to do. Though I've never "officially" had a guy to call my own (and honestly, men and women aren't objects, but that's another story for a different day), I've experienced that feeling of "love." Though in all respects, love is not a feeling. It's a "doing." Love is an action. And, the sooner that we realize that the love between two people is an "action" can we experience love in its entirety the way that it was supposed to be. As I sit here, waiting, I am reminded of everything in its right place and time. "As the flowers bloom and fade, so the word of God stands firm forever."
So in a world of "first loves," and "love stories" and countless movies making box office millions, lets remember the first loves that some of us have that include our passions. Romance will come in time, as it is not something that you can plan for. Though you can increase the likelihood of meeting someone, I'd rather wait and see my own love story unfold, as long as that may take. For now, I'm dabbling in my own "first loves."
Now, where did I put my paintbrush?
cheers!
alex
It's a thought that has crossed my mind more than once recently. Intersections, forks in the road, gravel dirt roads, all leading to that "first" love.
One of my favorite things to do when I find myself in the presence of a seasoned couple, a pair of newlyweds, a "just friends" (c'mon, we've all heard or been a part of that story before!), is to ask the question, "How did you first meet?" I'm fascinated by their "stories," of how couples meet through a mutual friend, at a party, on a dating site, in a coffee shop, in their professions, or even, as high school sweethearts. For me, I enjoy being a part of "their" audience, for however long or short that conversational story may be, as they reel their members in with a simple, quaint, rocky, or challenging dialogue of how their love came to be. The gleam in their eyes says it all. It's amazing to see how much they recollect from their first times of an initial meeting. Our brains have ways of remembering those finite details that may seem insignificant to the listener, but oh, so important to the couple at hand. From the striking red dress she wore, to the dapper looking robin egg blue eyed guy, to the way he looked at her, as though looking through her as she passed by, to the way he opened the car door for her (proof that chivalry is not dead). Perhaps, chivalry just resurrecting in a modern way for our 21st century.
I think it's safe to say that we tend to think of "first loves" in the romantic form. And, there is some justification in that line of thought. For many, we learn about love from our parents, relatives, siblings, coworkers, an experience we had when we were little, or a combination of all. Gosh, there are many instances in which I can recall examples of what love "is" and what love "is not."
Yet, my experience of "first loves" is probably not like everybody else's. First loves can be, and should be, for that matter, so much more than the "romantic" aspect. First loves, in my opinion, extend far to the crevices of the mountain, beckoning the artist within all of us to come forth and create a beautiful masterpiece of life. Years later, we shall look back, and reflect (though the "act" of reflecting may be something that we do everyday. As a teacher, I can relate to that. I'm constantly reflecting!) First loves reach to the corners of our hearts, in which we can only know beyond good measure that they are there. They expose our deepest desires and inner passions that God has put within us to share with the world.
As a young woman in her late twenties, I've come to this realization more and more each and every day. A student teacher recently asked me the question "Did I always know that I wanted to be a teacher?" And, as I sat in that chair in my classroom, I saw that same gleam in this student teachers eyes that I see in my friends eyes when I ask them about how they met their future spouse, boyfriend, or girlfriend. I soon harbored that twinkle in my own eyes, too - explaining my love for dance - that this part of me is still alive, though I do not dance anymore. I recalled those 13 years of dance fondly and look forward to a way to tie it in with my teaching sometime in the future.
Through writing, I feel connected to something greater than myself. As cliché as that may sound, I believe that my grandfather is present with me when I write; though I unfortunately do not have the luxury to get to do it often. Through poetry, grading college papers, planning for elementary school, and working on ways to help the teachers that I coach, I see my grandfather in every aspect of it. I must admit, on some days, the work becomes grueling, but I always remember the phrase he said: "Don't worry about the time on the clock. Just get your work done and then you can take off your socks." Yet still, another phrase, one of my favorites, "If it starts to become like a 'job' to you, get out." For him, teaching was always equated with "mission work," rather than a profession, a job, or a 9-3 work week.
Whether preparing a lesson or writing a poem (there is something so powerful about putting a pencil or a pen to paper!), the act of creating and developing my series of "first loves" brings me great joy. To be honest, I need to do a better job of creating more pockets of time within my workweek to hone in on these "first loves." For example, when I dabble in the painting world, I feel connected to my grandfather, too. I've never taken any painting classes, but have tried to practice when I can. Sometimes, I go months at a time without picking up a paintbrush. I am reminded of my grandfather, who was an artist (though he was a serviceman, a teacher, and Principal, among other things, too.) And I hear his words, "keep practicing." When it's something that we want and that we are passionate about, we will work at it.
Sunday afternoons in my kitchen are phenomenal. No kidding! Though it signals the start of another work week and setting my alarm to 5:00am once again, I do enjoy my times in the kitchen. You see, I learned to cook from my dad, when I watched him on my tippy toes in the kitchen as a little girl. Cooking, like baking, relaxes me. As I prep my meals for the week, I get so excited when I see the color and arrangements of food in my head, that I immediately have to put them on the plates. It's so refreshingly satisfying, like a glass of iced cold water when you finish from a long run or a workout. You step back, and look at what you have created with your hands. Our hands are powerful tools in this world, ya know :)
My friends, writing, painting, cooking, and more- those are my first loves. Having a good book in my hands with a cup of tea reminds me of my mom and the love of reading that she instilled in me as a young girl. I loved our trips to the library. Sometimes, I wish I could relive those simpler, innocent days again. I long for those times where I can walk into a bookstore, pick up an opened book off the shelf, be the first to crack it open, and smell its pages. It's like Christmas every day!
So, you see, first loves don't have to be the "romantic" kind. Yet, I would be amiss without sharing just 1 story about a "first love." Lets make that a "few stories," as it began when I was in daycare.
There was this boy that attended the daycare that I was in (well several boys, if you must know :) that I was absolutely smitten with. My first kiss was when he backed me up against the metal fence and planted one on me right on the lips.
We all had our share of elementary and middle school "crushes," and hormones getting in the way of our studies. Remember those days? I live for the days when we can write handwritten notes to each other again. There were those "occasions" where I perfected passing notes back and forth between rows and feet dangling under desks.
High school brought its own share of transitions. As I explained to the student teacher about my first love for dance, I realized that a part of it tied in with a guy. As all good love stories go, yes, I had a high school crush, well a few- but they all fizzled away rather quickly. Like I always say "lots of boys, but no men."
Yet, throughout my primary, secondary and college years (both undergraduate and graduate), I had guys that I liked, but my focus was always on my schoolwork. My parents instilled that mantra into me from a very early age and I guess, I just didn't have time for "boys," really, because I was always busy writing a paper, being chauffeured to basketball, 4 hours of dance on a Saturday, French horn and piano lessons, horse back riding, skating, and summer camps. These activities kept me "busy" in a good way, "out of trouble," as you say, and saved me from a lot of unnecessary heartache growing up. Even now, as an adult, I had a few "first loves" that I fell for incredibly hard, but learned after several years to "let it go" as the flowers fade with the passing of each season. Ever experience those times where both of you are too shy to name the elephant in the room but quite content to be "just friends?" Yet, when you get together, you "feel" that "electricity" between the two of you?
Only when we truly allow ourselves to "let go" of past experiences, expectations, views, and thoughts, can we open the door for new experiences, expectations, views, and thoughts to permeate our homes, our hearts, and our minds. And, as a single lady right now, approaching her almost 28th year, that is precisely what I am seeking to do. Though I've never "officially" had a guy to call my own (and honestly, men and women aren't objects, but that's another story for a different day), I've experienced that feeling of "love." Though in all respects, love is not a feeling. It's a "doing." Love is an action. And, the sooner that we realize that the love between two people is an "action" can we experience love in its entirety the way that it was supposed to be. As I sit here, waiting, I am reminded of everything in its right place and time. "As the flowers bloom and fade, so the word of God stands firm forever."
So in a world of "first loves," and "love stories" and countless movies making box office millions, lets remember the first loves that some of us have that include our passions. Romance will come in time, as it is not something that you can plan for. Though you can increase the likelihood of meeting someone, I'd rather wait and see my own love story unfold, as long as that may take. For now, I'm dabbling in my own "first loves."
Now, where did I put my paintbrush?
cheers!
alex
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Raspberry Tea, Falling in Love, Rest, and Rain.
As I sit typing this long-awaited post, I am sipping on Bigelow's Red Raspberry Royale hot tea from my favorite worn and yellow mug. Outside, it is raining, as splatters of raindrops dizzily graze the window in a fashion all too familiar and comfortable. It is on rainy days such as these, that I am thankful, for the fact that, sleeping is always easier for me. Don't ask me why, but I always find it easier to sleep in the rain.
And, as odd as this sounds, I always find it easier to write when it's raining. (Isn't that right?! - haha) Oftentimes when I sit down to write, I have no idea what to write, while sometimes, I seek to explore a certain avenue of life, an idea, or a specific topic that has been on my heart and mind.
Today, I am writing because I am feeling better. For the past 4 days, I have been recovering from a double ear infection and laryngitis. (It's kinda hard to talk when you have no voice, friends!) Anyway, I've been taking comfort in drinking lots of hot tea with honey (something that my Italian neighbors introduced to me), eating lots of whole fruit, and rest. Which, my friends, is the premise of this post; that is, rest.
It's easy for me to give advice to friends on the importance of rest, but to follow the advice myself? Ah, now that's a totally different story.
As a woman who is used to constantly "being busy," running around doing errands, helping other people, being involved within my community and in my school, it's hard for me to rest. But, when I look back on my life and reflect on where exactly that mindset of "busy" and "involvement" came from, I would have to say that it cascaded through the genes of my grandfather and landed in my veins. He was the same way as me. He was a former teacher, Principal, Merchant Marines, and Navy man, and, among other duties, a father. But, he always kept busy. The similar factor that rang true in his life and in mine today, is that of constantly going and moving, quite similar to the "Energizer Bunny" commercial, in fact.
Honestly, it's quite hard for me to "slow down." Even when I try, my mind is still going. One of the common denominators amongst the teachers I have company with is that it's very hard to "shut your brain off" at the end of the school day. Teachers tend to bring "everything" home with them, whether metaphorically or literally. And, I think that is one of the main reasons why I get sick; I continue to run around without being able to "turn off" the tv that is my brain and I am not able to fully rest.
Truthfully, I miss the days where my parents and I went on vacation with limited or no cell phone service, or our "mystery Sunday rides" in neighborhoods unfamiliar to us. Those carefree childhood days where just wonderful. It's hard to grow up and realize that those were the moments that you miss the most.
I've been learning, (albeit slowly) that in order to grow as a person, as a teacher, and as a woman, I need to slow down and learn to "shut my brain off." When I want to move, I just need to "fight the good fight" as Jesus says in the Bible and purposefully stop and do something that helps me to relax. These past 4 days have been a testament to naps, rest, and "puttering around my house." It's hard for a lady to "stop moving" when she's always used to "moving" that when I do "pause" it feels like I should "be doing something."
This trait is no more profound, I've realized recently, than on social media. Many of my friends that I used to hang out with are now in relationships, engaged, or married. (I know that I may be on the verge of being redundant, as this same piece was explained in a previous post, it does bear revisiting again.) When this happens and I find myself comparing one piece of my life (a spouse) to my entire life through the lens of another person, I get discouraged, until I remind myself of all of the things that I have accomplished thus far with God. If it wasn't for him, I honestly don't know where I would be today, as cliché as that sounds. Actually, I take that back. I do know where I would be today - still a quiet and shy girl, not speaking unless she's spoken to and content on offering her opinion only when asked. When I reflect on how far I've come and how far I've grown as a woman, now that is worth celebrating. However, I don't express this feat as something to "brag" about or something in which to draw attention to myself and say "look at me." Not at all. I express this with the utmost humility, knowing that it was by no work of my own but of Him who created and sent me to do his good works.
And to be frank, I know that someday, I will be married, have a family with kids, and a husband who supports me and I, him. Yet, I still hope and plan to hold onto those sweet memories I have with my parents, for those are so worth cherishing. I am a firm believer in knowing that desires are placed on our hearts (regardless of our beliefs) for a reason. And sometimes, those hopes and dreams aren't answered right away, or answered in a different order, for that matter. We need to embrace them as they come, and to know and understand that just because I may not be meeting "societal milestones" as society dictates in our 21st century, does not mean that I am "less than" someone who is "married." It also does not mean that people need to complete certain "milestones" in a particular order.
For some reason, unknown to me, my career ended up flourishing first. That's wonderful news! From my experiences interacting with young people and those who are wiser and older than me, careers tend to take off after we have "settled down." I am so thankful that I have a career in teaching not just students, but teachers at a college, too. I am truly thankful for all of the opportunities that have come my way as a young twenty-something woman.
And, I look forward at all that is to come, as well. I look forward to the day where I meet my future husband and the journey that will come along with that. It will be rocky and smooth, I'm sure, but those experiences and opportunities will help us to grow stronger as a couple, together. And, though the famed Hallmark movies encourage me to "think about love" in a certain way, I am open to falling in love in different ways than the norm. It took me a while to come to that realization, but for now, I am content with that.
As for the rainy day, I grasp my cup of Red Raspberry Royale Tea from my worn and yellow mug, close my eyes, and drift off to sleep with the light pitter-patter of the rain in the background.
Cheers, my friends.
And, as odd as this sounds, I always find it easier to write when it's raining. (Isn't that right?! - haha) Oftentimes when I sit down to write, I have no idea what to write, while sometimes, I seek to explore a certain avenue of life, an idea, or a specific topic that has been on my heart and mind.
Today, I am writing because I am feeling better. For the past 4 days, I have been recovering from a double ear infection and laryngitis. (It's kinda hard to talk when you have no voice, friends!) Anyway, I've been taking comfort in drinking lots of hot tea with honey (something that my Italian neighbors introduced to me), eating lots of whole fruit, and rest. Which, my friends, is the premise of this post; that is, rest.
It's easy for me to give advice to friends on the importance of rest, but to follow the advice myself? Ah, now that's a totally different story.
As a woman who is used to constantly "being busy," running around doing errands, helping other people, being involved within my community and in my school, it's hard for me to rest. But, when I look back on my life and reflect on where exactly that mindset of "busy" and "involvement" came from, I would have to say that it cascaded through the genes of my grandfather and landed in my veins. He was the same way as me. He was a former teacher, Principal, Merchant Marines, and Navy man, and, among other duties, a father. But, he always kept busy. The similar factor that rang true in his life and in mine today, is that of constantly going and moving, quite similar to the "Energizer Bunny" commercial, in fact.
Honestly, it's quite hard for me to "slow down." Even when I try, my mind is still going. One of the common denominators amongst the teachers I have company with is that it's very hard to "shut your brain off" at the end of the school day. Teachers tend to bring "everything" home with them, whether metaphorically or literally. And, I think that is one of the main reasons why I get sick; I continue to run around without being able to "turn off" the tv that is my brain and I am not able to fully rest.
Truthfully, I miss the days where my parents and I went on vacation with limited or no cell phone service, or our "mystery Sunday rides" in neighborhoods unfamiliar to us. Those carefree childhood days where just wonderful. It's hard to grow up and realize that those were the moments that you miss the most.
I've been learning, (albeit slowly) that in order to grow as a person, as a teacher, and as a woman, I need to slow down and learn to "shut my brain off." When I want to move, I just need to "fight the good fight" as Jesus says in the Bible and purposefully stop and do something that helps me to relax. These past 4 days have been a testament to naps, rest, and "puttering around my house." It's hard for a lady to "stop moving" when she's always used to "moving" that when I do "pause" it feels like I should "be doing something."
This trait is no more profound, I've realized recently, than on social media. Many of my friends that I used to hang out with are now in relationships, engaged, or married. (I know that I may be on the verge of being redundant, as this same piece was explained in a previous post, it does bear revisiting again.) When this happens and I find myself comparing one piece of my life (a spouse) to my entire life through the lens of another person, I get discouraged, until I remind myself of all of the things that I have accomplished thus far with God. If it wasn't for him, I honestly don't know where I would be today, as cliché as that sounds. Actually, I take that back. I do know where I would be today - still a quiet and shy girl, not speaking unless she's spoken to and content on offering her opinion only when asked. When I reflect on how far I've come and how far I've grown as a woman, now that is worth celebrating. However, I don't express this feat as something to "brag" about or something in which to draw attention to myself and say "look at me." Not at all. I express this with the utmost humility, knowing that it was by no work of my own but of Him who created and sent me to do his good works.
And to be frank, I know that someday, I will be married, have a family with kids, and a husband who supports me and I, him. Yet, I still hope and plan to hold onto those sweet memories I have with my parents, for those are so worth cherishing. I am a firm believer in knowing that desires are placed on our hearts (regardless of our beliefs) for a reason. And sometimes, those hopes and dreams aren't answered right away, or answered in a different order, for that matter. We need to embrace them as they come, and to know and understand that just because I may not be meeting "societal milestones" as society dictates in our 21st century, does not mean that I am "less than" someone who is "married." It also does not mean that people need to complete certain "milestones" in a particular order.
For some reason, unknown to me, my career ended up flourishing first. That's wonderful news! From my experiences interacting with young people and those who are wiser and older than me, careers tend to take off after we have "settled down." I am so thankful that I have a career in teaching not just students, but teachers at a college, too. I am truly thankful for all of the opportunities that have come my way as a young twenty-something woman.
And, I look forward at all that is to come, as well. I look forward to the day where I meet my future husband and the journey that will come along with that. It will be rocky and smooth, I'm sure, but those experiences and opportunities will help us to grow stronger as a couple, together. And, though the famed Hallmark movies encourage me to "think about love" in a certain way, I am open to falling in love in different ways than the norm. It took me a while to come to that realization, but for now, I am content with that.
As for the rainy day, I grasp my cup of Red Raspberry Royale Tea from my worn and yellow mug, close my eyes, and drift off to sleep with the light pitter-patter of the rain in the background.
Cheers, my friends.
Monday, August 22, 2016
Lots of Boys But No Men
Ever have those moments where you drive with the windows and the top of your car down because the weather is just "that good?" Monday - you were one of those days. And tonight, was just a tease of autumn in the midst of summer. So breezy and cool, I ate my supper on the front stoop of my house. I'm looking forward to more afternoons and nights like this.
But as with moments, "all good things must come to and end" as the saying goes (or at the very least, put on pause for a while.) And so, I ventured back inside my house to write this blog post at my wooden dining room table. I'm looking outside my window, watching the sunset, chamomile tea on the left of me, eating gluten free/dairy free chocolate and cranberry fudge. Yum. My fingers are typing away furiously on the computer, the keyboard making clicking sounds like an old-fashioned typewriter, purple Opi nails bouncing up and down, like balloons in the air - dancing to their tune of Click Clack Moo, Cows That Type.
While I sat outside with my supper tonight, one of my neighbors came over to talk with me. He shared the story of how he and his wife first met. To this day, I love asking people "their story" because, in reality, every couple has "their story." Whether it seems big or small in our eyes, that "moment" and/or "series of moments" are significant to the story that a particular couple shares together. And that my friends, is beautiful.
Anyway, as I sat listening to the story, I realized something. Meeting someone back then seemed "easier" in a sense. Maybe not "easy" in the way beating eggs with a fork for breakfast might be, but "easy" in that, everyone seemed to know each other. The gal really knew the guy because the families interacted with each other regularly. From my experience, nowadays, we have all different avenues to go about meeting potential people/significant interests, with word of mouth, blind dates, online dating, swiping left or right, initiating conversation when out with a group of friends, etc. There seems to be more platforms with which to meet someone. However, I can't help but feeling that, for some people out there, maybe even you who stumbled upon this post by happenchance :), you may feel lonelier or even further away from meeting someone due to all of these technological advances. And, you may be reading this on the other side of the lens - feeling extremely connected to the world via social media, technology, your friends, etc. Either way you feel, I think it suffices to say that our "dating world" today is vastly different than my neighbors was back then. Let me give you an example.
From my own personal experiences, I've come to realize that when I find myself "falling for a guy" (for lack of a better phrase), I immediately put up walls around myself to convince myself that what I'm "feeling" is nothing more and nothing less and to suppress those feelings by not thinking about them nor looking towards the future with that particular guy anymore. This is pattern of mine that I've come to liken to a horse in a race track with blinders. Those blinders represent the walls that I put up in an effort to protect myself, to shield myself from potential hurt and distrust, and my whole uncertainty with the "dating" field. This is a piece of me that has taken a long time to acknowledge and to even put a "name" on, but, nonetheless, as soon as I did that, I was able to work on removing those blinders to see the rest of the racetrack and the other horses racing beside me, too.
This is not to say that I have lowered my standards at all. In fact, because of this realization, my standards have improved and changed. Now, when I meet guy friends who I may have potential interest in, I ask myself a series of questions, in no particular order- "do I see myself with this guy long term? Is this a "boy" (in terms of maturity) or a "man?" (because there is a significant difference for both); Will this man challenge me to pursue life without a roadmap every one in a while? Can this man be trusted? How does this man deal with conflict? What does this man do when he's not hanging out with his friends? Does this man have proof in his life of establishing a significant commitment? How does this man treat other women? Does this man act a certain way around me and completely different around his closest friends? How is this man with kids? (a big question for me because I am a teacher) Does he interact well with kids? Do they look up to him as they would a father?
Those are just some of the questions that I begin to ask myself throughout the course of getting to know a guy. And to be honest, sometimes, our initial "first impressions" are incorrect and we need to give the guy a second chance. Sometimes, it's not him, it's us. And sometimes, we need to be truthful when we've fallen short.
I often get asked a lot, by friends, by neighbors, by people I've met, some similar and familiar phrasing of this group of words: "So, is there anyone special in your life?" And, I'm always tempted to respond with "yes, great friends!" or "wonderful family!" or, (my personal favorite) "lots of boys but no men." And sometimes, I respond to that well-meaning, abstract question with an honest "No, not yet." I can't tell you why that part of my life hasn't flowered yet, but what I can share is that I'm being pruned like a tree and trained like a Seabiscuit-kind-of-horse, to lower my blinders and to allow kind hearted men in. And, I know that as soon as those blinders are fully lowered, then, and only then, can I depart from the racetrack to open myself up and say, "I'm ready."
-cheers.
But as with moments, "all good things must come to and end" as the saying goes (or at the very least, put on pause for a while.) And so, I ventured back inside my house to write this blog post at my wooden dining room table. I'm looking outside my window, watching the sunset, chamomile tea on the left of me, eating gluten free/dairy free chocolate and cranberry fudge. Yum. My fingers are typing away furiously on the computer, the keyboard making clicking sounds like an old-fashioned typewriter, purple Opi nails bouncing up and down, like balloons in the air - dancing to their tune of Click Clack Moo, Cows That Type.
While I sat outside with my supper tonight, one of my neighbors came over to talk with me. He shared the story of how he and his wife first met. To this day, I love asking people "their story" because, in reality, every couple has "their story." Whether it seems big or small in our eyes, that "moment" and/or "series of moments" are significant to the story that a particular couple shares together. And that my friends, is beautiful.
Anyway, as I sat listening to the story, I realized something. Meeting someone back then seemed "easier" in a sense. Maybe not "easy" in the way beating eggs with a fork for breakfast might be, but "easy" in that, everyone seemed to know each other. The gal really knew the guy because the families interacted with each other regularly. From my experience, nowadays, we have all different avenues to go about meeting potential people/significant interests, with word of mouth, blind dates, online dating, swiping left or right, initiating conversation when out with a group of friends, etc. There seems to be more platforms with which to meet someone. However, I can't help but feeling that, for some people out there, maybe even you who stumbled upon this post by happenchance :), you may feel lonelier or even further away from meeting someone due to all of these technological advances. And, you may be reading this on the other side of the lens - feeling extremely connected to the world via social media, technology, your friends, etc. Either way you feel, I think it suffices to say that our "dating world" today is vastly different than my neighbors was back then. Let me give you an example.
From my own personal experiences, I've come to realize that when I find myself "falling for a guy" (for lack of a better phrase), I immediately put up walls around myself to convince myself that what I'm "feeling" is nothing more and nothing less and to suppress those feelings by not thinking about them nor looking towards the future with that particular guy anymore. This is pattern of mine that I've come to liken to a horse in a race track with blinders. Those blinders represent the walls that I put up in an effort to protect myself, to shield myself from potential hurt and distrust, and my whole uncertainty with the "dating" field. This is a piece of me that has taken a long time to acknowledge and to even put a "name" on, but, nonetheless, as soon as I did that, I was able to work on removing those blinders to see the rest of the racetrack and the other horses racing beside me, too.
This is not to say that I have lowered my standards at all. In fact, because of this realization, my standards have improved and changed. Now, when I meet guy friends who I may have potential interest in, I ask myself a series of questions, in no particular order- "do I see myself with this guy long term? Is this a "boy" (in terms of maturity) or a "man?" (because there is a significant difference for both); Will this man challenge me to pursue life without a roadmap every one in a while? Can this man be trusted? How does this man deal with conflict? What does this man do when he's not hanging out with his friends? Does this man have proof in his life of establishing a significant commitment? How does this man treat other women? Does this man act a certain way around me and completely different around his closest friends? How is this man with kids? (a big question for me because I am a teacher) Does he interact well with kids? Do they look up to him as they would a father?
Those are just some of the questions that I begin to ask myself throughout the course of getting to know a guy. And to be honest, sometimes, our initial "first impressions" are incorrect and we need to give the guy a second chance. Sometimes, it's not him, it's us. And sometimes, we need to be truthful when we've fallen short.
I often get asked a lot, by friends, by neighbors, by people I've met, some similar and familiar phrasing of this group of words: "So, is there anyone special in your life?" And, I'm always tempted to respond with "yes, great friends!" or "wonderful family!" or, (my personal favorite) "lots of boys but no men." And sometimes, I respond to that well-meaning, abstract question with an honest "No, not yet." I can't tell you why that part of my life hasn't flowered yet, but what I can share is that I'm being pruned like a tree and trained like a Seabiscuit-kind-of-horse, to lower my blinders and to allow kind hearted men in. And, I know that as soon as those blinders are fully lowered, then, and only then, can I depart from the racetrack to open myself up and say, "I'm ready."
-cheers.
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