So, I am back from my vacation, and back to what we dare to call "the real world." (I, of course, don't believe it for a second! But there's no point in arguing that right now.)
I spent almost the entire day of this last day "off" running errands, and cleaning, and general preparing for the daily grind to start back up. I have found, since living on my own, that coming home from work isn't so bad if you don't have to come home to a horribly messy place. So I've spent the last three hours cleaning, and I happened to make some decent progress! It's certainly not perfect, but I wouldn't be quite so embarrassed to have someone stop by unexpectedly anymore. It does happen on a rare occasion. I wish it happened more often, however. Especially when I can impress them with my cleanishness! :)
And so... twenty-six, so far, has not been so bad. In fact, my new perspective and brighter outlook on the year to come has made these days rather nice. It is amazing what a twinge of hope will do for the soul. But now I'm starting to sound like some lame Spiritual self-help book, so I must stop immediately for fear of losing my own dinner!
Tomorrow I'll be back to work, and that will be challenging and fun all at the same time. I think I have settled into this season pretty well. I am curious to see the changes that God will inevitably be bringing my way soon. I am actually shocked that things have been so... normal... for so long. Stability is so unfamiliar to me that it sometimes makes me uncomfortable.
Speaking of tomorrow, I've still got stuff I need to do before heading to bed. And I really need to get some good sleep tonight. Farewell!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Bob Marley at the Beach
I highly recommend spending your birthday at the beach. I'm having a blast!
Yesterday, after waking up, we went to the Isle of Palms and just walked for miles. I feel so blessed just to be here, taking in the many sensations of sand beneath my toes and cool, salty water rushing around my ankles; the wind giving my hair that clumpy "beach look" that I like to pretend looks sexy, and not just unwashed.
And today I know that God is good.
I have always been in love with the ocean. My deeply romantic heart doesn't stand a chance against it's depth of beauty and mystery. No matter how cynical or sad I have become before I reach the shore, as soon as I stand before the rolling sea again, the stony walls around my heart have crumbled, and I am left in vulnerable awe.
So I will let the ocean work its magic in me, renewing me and washing the callouses off my heart again, leaving me empty and thirsty for more of God's beauty. I will search for buried treasure in the sand, and emerge with a heart intent on believing again... perhaps the greatest treasure to be found.
Another year older, but with a fresh perspective to face the coming challenges. And deep in my heart, I feel like this is going to be a good year. In fact, I know it will be.
Driving back from our day at the beach, we put in a Bob Marley CD... perfect timing and a perfect fit for the moment. And for the first time in months, I was completely and utterly content with my life.
As Bob said: "I'm happy inside, all of de time... 'feel like a sweepstakes winna..." =]
Here's to twenty-six!
Yesterday, after waking up, we went to the Isle of Palms and just walked for miles. I feel so blessed just to be here, taking in the many sensations of sand beneath my toes and cool, salty water rushing around my ankles; the wind giving my hair that clumpy "beach look" that I like to pretend looks sexy, and not just unwashed.
And today I know that God is good.
I have always been in love with the ocean. My deeply romantic heart doesn't stand a chance against it's depth of beauty and mystery. No matter how cynical or sad I have become before I reach the shore, as soon as I stand before the rolling sea again, the stony walls around my heart have crumbled, and I am left in vulnerable awe.
So I will let the ocean work its magic in me, renewing me and washing the callouses off my heart again, leaving me empty and thirsty for more of God's beauty. I will search for buried treasure in the sand, and emerge with a heart intent on believing again... perhaps the greatest treasure to be found.
Another year older, but with a fresh perspective to face the coming challenges. And deep in my heart, I feel like this is going to be a good year. In fact, I know it will be.
Driving back from our day at the beach, we put in a Bob Marley CD... perfect timing and a perfect fit for the moment. And for the first time in months, I was completely and utterly content with my life.
As Bob said: "I'm happy inside, all of de time... 'feel like a sweepstakes winna..." =]
Here's to twenty-six!
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Dissection of a Mustard Seed
Risk is by far my least favorite board game. In fact, I became so upset the first time I played, that I have never attempted to play again. No exaggeration. There are still memories of a college Christmas break darkened by the devastation of my entire elf army when one of us received a Lord of the Rings themed Risk game from Santa. I do not believe I am one to hold a grudge under normal circumstances, but in this case I still feel a twinge of leftover frustration at the very thought...
And so goes my life. I hate the rolling of the die, not knowing what you will get when it comes to that inevitable and influential stop. For many, many years, like so many others, I had decided that I would be better off not playing, than to take the risk... and lose.
Although I would consider myself a bit of a social butterfly, I tend to be quite chameleon-like, becoming an awkward observer or a wallflower with little or no notice. For example, I am in my element at any social function, standing in the midst of it all but focusing on one or two people, having a deep discussion about past, present, and future life struggles and hopes. But then someone will decide that we're all going to play some game, or turn some music on and start to dance, and immediately I will find an inconspicuous corner from which to cower, hoping no one will force me to bring out the head or stomach ache excuse in order to avoid actually participating in said activity.
I have often made jokes in these situations that blame my social awkwardness on homeschooling. But I can no longer hide behind the overused stereotype, which is really only half-truth anyway. The real truth is that I am utterly terrified of risk-taking in most forms. I am not afraid of funky fashions, ridiculous socks, putting my foot in my mouth, or speaking even the most embarrassing truths aloud. I am not even afraid of snakes. But I am a coward in every sense of the word when it comes to taking risks with life decisions.
I told my brother recently, in a brief online chatting session, that my baggage cart was full when I first received it (parental dysfunction being the common cold of the family unit these days), so why would I want to risk adding more to the already heaping piles by my own choice? That just doesn't make sense. But the truth is that life without risk is impossible, if you desire to have any kind of life at all. And what is faith, really, but risk on a Supernatural level?
The Bible is actually quite encouraging on this matter. Loosely translated, if your faith is as big as a mustard seed, it says, you will say to this mountain, "move" and the mountain shall tumble. Just think about that for a minute...
I have a close friend who does not believe that God is personal, or interested in our daily struggles, delights, or the mountains we face. Supposedly He created us, set us down here, and has taken a "hands off" approach ever since. Though he is dear to me, I am certain that my friend is terribly wrong. Have you ever actually seen a mustard seed? Any God who knew to use a mustard seed to describe the kind of faith I possess must know me intimately. And despite the intensity of my fears, I have been known to move a mountain or two with my wee little mustard seeds of faith.
I believe this goes hand-in-hand with the short verse hidden in the Psalms that says: "Be still, and know that I am God." It is one of my favorites. I grew up in the kind of church where it was all about performance; what you did or didn't do, and you were always trying, trying, trying to grow as a Christian and be a Christian, and all that mattered was what you did for God... it makes me feel infinitely tired just to write about it.
I am doomed to failure without grace, because there are months (as you know by now if you're a regular reader) where I can barely remember to pay my bills, and get my 40 hour work week in, and leave my apartment somewhat presentable in the morning. Add the pressure of saving souls or being perfectly sinless to that list, and I may as well go on to heaven now before I add any more disastrous failures to it. The truth surely does set you free, for I am blessed by the knowledge that such a list is nonexistent.
I love this, though... another translation of the same verse reads: "Cease striving, and know God." Though simple, it is one of the most difficult truths I have to accept. I have lived enough, and failed enough, and cried enough, and run back to God enough in the last couple of months that I am ready to give up. In a good way. I am ready to give up me getting in the way of what God is doing. I am ready to cease striving... and find God there.
And that is one of the scariest risks I know to take. But I suppose I might have about a mustard seed sized faith left, so I may as well turn and face the mountain...
I am finding, though it has proven to be a frighteningly treacherous path, that each new step of faith, each risk, grows another seed and reveals a higher mountain. What are we to do, but take the next step in the direction of the towering peak, and with our small measure of faith, simply utter the word "move"?
And so goes my life. I hate the rolling of the die, not knowing what you will get when it comes to that inevitable and influential stop. For many, many years, like so many others, I had decided that I would be better off not playing, than to take the risk... and lose.
Although I would consider myself a bit of a social butterfly, I tend to be quite chameleon-like, becoming an awkward observer or a wallflower with little or no notice. For example, I am in my element at any social function, standing in the midst of it all but focusing on one or two people, having a deep discussion about past, present, and future life struggles and hopes. But then someone will decide that we're all going to play some game, or turn some music on and start to dance, and immediately I will find an inconspicuous corner from which to cower, hoping no one will force me to bring out the head or stomach ache excuse in order to avoid actually participating in said activity.
I have often made jokes in these situations that blame my social awkwardness on homeschooling. But I can no longer hide behind the overused stereotype, which is really only half-truth anyway. The real truth is that I am utterly terrified of risk-taking in most forms. I am not afraid of funky fashions, ridiculous socks, putting my foot in my mouth, or speaking even the most embarrassing truths aloud. I am not even afraid of snakes. But I am a coward in every sense of the word when it comes to taking risks with life decisions.
I told my brother recently, in a brief online chatting session, that my baggage cart was full when I first received it (parental dysfunction being the common cold of the family unit these days), so why would I want to risk adding more to the already heaping piles by my own choice? That just doesn't make sense. But the truth is that life without risk is impossible, if you desire to have any kind of life at all. And what is faith, really, but risk on a Supernatural level?
The Bible is actually quite encouraging on this matter. Loosely translated, if your faith is as big as a mustard seed, it says, you will say to this mountain, "move" and the mountain shall tumble. Just think about that for a minute...
I have a close friend who does not believe that God is personal, or interested in our daily struggles, delights, or the mountains we face. Supposedly He created us, set us down here, and has taken a "hands off" approach ever since. Though he is dear to me, I am certain that my friend is terribly wrong. Have you ever actually seen a mustard seed? Any God who knew to use a mustard seed to describe the kind of faith I possess must know me intimately. And despite the intensity of my fears, I have been known to move a mountain or two with my wee little mustard seeds of faith.
I believe this goes hand-in-hand with the short verse hidden in the Psalms that says: "Be still, and know that I am God." It is one of my favorites. I grew up in the kind of church where it was all about performance; what you did or didn't do, and you were always trying, trying, trying to grow as a Christian and be a Christian, and all that mattered was what you did for God... it makes me feel infinitely tired just to write about it.
I am doomed to failure without grace, because there are months (as you know by now if you're a regular reader) where I can barely remember to pay my bills, and get my 40 hour work week in, and leave my apartment somewhat presentable in the morning. Add the pressure of saving souls or being perfectly sinless to that list, and I may as well go on to heaven now before I add any more disastrous failures to it. The truth surely does set you free, for I am blessed by the knowledge that such a list is nonexistent.
I love this, though... another translation of the same verse reads: "Cease striving, and know God." Though simple, it is one of the most difficult truths I have to accept. I have lived enough, and failed enough, and cried enough, and run back to God enough in the last couple of months that I am ready to give up. In a good way. I am ready to give up me getting in the way of what God is doing. I am ready to cease striving... and find God there.
And that is one of the scariest risks I know to take. But I suppose I might have about a mustard seed sized faith left, so I may as well turn and face the mountain...
I am finding, though it has proven to be a frighteningly treacherous path, that each new step of faith, each risk, grows another seed and reveals a higher mountain. What are we to do, but take the next step in the direction of the towering peak, and with our small measure of faith, simply utter the word "move"?
Saturday, June 28, 2008
The Fine Art of Procrastination
Some people do not realize that procrastination is an art form. If you are one of those people (usually A types), go ahead and get back to whatever the heck you really need to be doing. I can guarantee you that all of this is just a waste of time. For those of you who welcome a good waste of time, please... read on! :)
I spent the entire day Saturday procrastinating. It was fantastic. I had not realized my procrastinistic maturity, however, until it was about 5:30, and not only had I not accomplished anything I had intended to, but I was simultaneously going to be late for hanging out with my friends. Awesome. I am more skilled than I had realized. It's bad when you can't even make yourself do things you want to do!
Wikipedia says this: "Procrastination is a type of behavior which is characterized by deferment of actions or tasks to a later time. Psychologists often cite procrastination as a mechanism for coping with the anxiety associated with starting or completing any task or decision."
Yeshh. I must agree. The anxiety associated with cleaning and rearranging my entire apartment before Thursday has proven itself to be one tough beast. It is now Sunday, and I am still hard at work, doing anything I can possibly do... except clean.
Here's what I did accomplish throughout the day:
Saturday morning, 9:00am: Called my mother.
10:30ish: Started to unload the dishwasher (I say "started," because the first item taken out happened to be a bowl, making me realize I was hungry).
10:32: Abandoned worthy task for a bowl of cereal. Left freshly used bowl with the other dishes in the sink, therefore creating more work for myself for later. *sigh*
11:ooish: Scooped the cat litter (no matter how much anxiety I have about anything, this is a neccessary course of action for obvious reasons).
11:15: Called my sister to hear about her trip to Disney.
12:30: Wandered into my bedroom and thought about hanging up my clothes. Noticed that the dimples in the rubber handle of my hammer had gunk in them. Got gunk out using a metal nail file (I was getting desperate by this point).
1:00ish: Called my other sister.
1:30: Repainted my toenails.
1:40: Sorted through some of my old makeup. Decided to try it out.
2:00ish: Looked up the word "procrastination" on Wikipedia and decided to blog about it... :)
2:30 - 5:30: While online, I remembered an old online cartoon that used to be one of my favorite forms of procrastination in college. Went to http://www.homestarrunner.com/ where I spent nearly 3 hours doing nothing but amuse myself by reading SBmails. Good stuff.
So you get the picture. Of course I accomplished many more meaningless tasks, such as showering, putting on clothing, and probably all kinds of other things that I've forgotten by now, but this is just a general overview. If only I could turn this talent of mine into some sort of career...
I would end up a rich, rich woman! :) And I could also introduce myself as an Artistic Procrastinator, which would just be awesome. I could have weekly workshops, where on-task, A type people could get help and learn how to spend an entire day doing absolutely nothing of value...
Now I've got my imaginative wheels turning. I think I'm going to go make myself a cup of coffee and get to another day of preventing myself from cleaning...
I spent the entire day Saturday procrastinating. It was fantastic. I had not realized my procrastinistic maturity, however, until it was about 5:30, and not only had I not accomplished anything I had intended to, but I was simultaneously going to be late for hanging out with my friends. Awesome. I am more skilled than I had realized. It's bad when you can't even make yourself do things you want to do!
Wikipedia says this: "Procrastination is a type of behavior which is characterized by deferment of actions or tasks to a later time. Psychologists often cite procrastination as a mechanism for coping with the anxiety associated with starting or completing any task or decision."
Yeshh. I must agree. The anxiety associated with cleaning and rearranging my entire apartment before Thursday has proven itself to be one tough beast. It is now Sunday, and I am still hard at work, doing anything I can possibly do... except clean.
Here's what I did accomplish throughout the day:
Saturday morning, 9:00am: Called my mother.
10:30ish: Started to unload the dishwasher (I say "started," because the first item taken out happened to be a bowl, making me realize I was hungry).
10:32: Abandoned worthy task for a bowl of cereal. Left freshly used bowl with the other dishes in the sink, therefore creating more work for myself for later. *sigh*
11:ooish: Scooped the cat litter (no matter how much anxiety I have about anything, this is a neccessary course of action for obvious reasons).
11:15: Called my sister to hear about her trip to Disney.
12:30: Wandered into my bedroom and thought about hanging up my clothes. Noticed that the dimples in the rubber handle of my hammer had gunk in them. Got gunk out using a metal nail file (I was getting desperate by this point).
1:00ish: Called my other sister.
1:30: Repainted my toenails.
1:40: Sorted through some of my old makeup. Decided to try it out.
2:00ish: Looked up the word "procrastination" on Wikipedia and decided to blog about it... :)
2:30 - 5:30: While online, I remembered an old online cartoon that used to be one of my favorite forms of procrastination in college. Went to http://www.homestarrunner.com/ where I spent nearly 3 hours doing nothing but amuse myself by reading SBmails. Good stuff.
So you get the picture. Of course I accomplished many more meaningless tasks, such as showering, putting on clothing, and probably all kinds of other things that I've forgotten by now, but this is just a general overview. If only I could turn this talent of mine into some sort of career...
I would end up a rich, rich woman! :) And I could also introduce myself as an Artistic Procrastinator, which would just be awesome. I could have weekly workshops, where on-task, A type people could get help and learn how to spend an entire day doing absolutely nothing of value...
Now I've got my imaginative wheels turning. I think I'm going to go make myself a cup of coffee and get to another day of preventing myself from cleaning...
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Coffee Grounds and Cat Litter
Don't judge me. I have never claimed to have my life together. But I can honestly say that I am doing the best I can...
It all started on the way to work this morning. I was supposed to stop by the trash compactor and throw my trash out. Seems simple enough. One would think. But I forgot. I have been forgetting all kinds of things lately. I haven't quite reached the fearful "turning into my mother" stage, but I am coming dangerously close. Which reminds me... I think my electric bill is due on the 23rd... which was yesterday...
So anyway, I accidentally left my bag of trash in my car. All day. In the heat. So after a long and somewhat stressful day at work, I re-entered my vehicle to the overwhelming smell of stale coffee grounds... and cat litter. Let me just tell you, ladies and gentlemen, do not try this at home.
It is times like these that I wonder very seriously where my life is going.
Needless to say, I've been trying to set some realistic goals. And I do mean realistic. I am finally convincing myself to get my head out of the clouds and accept some things. Not to say that I'm selling out on my dreams. But by now I am certain that I will never have all of the things I want, so it is reasonable to take a good long look at what I am capable of achieving, and shoot for something attainable in the near future.
I decided just a few weeks ago that I want to get something published in the next year, and that's what I'm going to be putting my off-the-clock efforts into. What a scary, scary thought. And yet, it is something I have wanted for nearly two decades, and doesn't really depend on anyone but me; unlike most of my other dreams, which either require a rich husband or the winning of a large sum of money. :)
Watch out, world. I'm finally stepping outside the box...
It all started on the way to work this morning. I was supposed to stop by the trash compactor and throw my trash out. Seems simple enough. One would think. But I forgot. I have been forgetting all kinds of things lately. I haven't quite reached the fearful "turning into my mother" stage, but I am coming dangerously close. Which reminds me... I think my electric bill is due on the 23rd... which was yesterday...
So anyway, I accidentally left my bag of trash in my car. All day. In the heat. So after a long and somewhat stressful day at work, I re-entered my vehicle to the overwhelming smell of stale coffee grounds... and cat litter. Let me just tell you, ladies and gentlemen, do not try this at home.
It is times like these that I wonder very seriously where my life is going.
Needless to say, I've been trying to set some realistic goals. And I do mean realistic. I am finally convincing myself to get my head out of the clouds and accept some things. Not to say that I'm selling out on my dreams. But by now I am certain that I will never have all of the things I want, so it is reasonable to take a good long look at what I am capable of achieving, and shoot for something attainable in the near future.
I decided just a few weeks ago that I want to get something published in the next year, and that's what I'm going to be putting my off-the-clock efforts into. What a scary, scary thought. And yet, it is something I have wanted for nearly two decades, and doesn't really depend on anyone but me; unlike most of my other dreams, which either require a rich husband or the winning of a large sum of money. :)
Watch out, world. I'm finally stepping outside the box...
Monday, June 16, 2008
A Life Lesson in the Little Things
"Are you kidding me??" I screamed aloud, having come back from a very short trip to the bathroom to discover one of my kittens having a boxing match with my keyboard. And, of course, the paragraphs I had just been working on were deleted, and a lot of gibberish had taken the place of my attempt at creativity. As a former English Major, I hold myself at fault for not having saved my work before leaving the computer unattended. But still...
It's amazing the things that come out of your mouth when you've had a typical Monday. I find myself yelling a lot these days. Things like: "What were you thinking?" and "Can't I just have ten minutes to myself when I get home??" and "Are you kidding me?" ...as if cats are quite skilled in the art of comic mockery. There are times when I am convinced that they have nothing better to do than piss me off. Just for the heck of it.
So why, you ask, do I even have cats? That is a very good question. I think they're here to teach me something. I don't want to be one of those annoying Pollyanna-type people that tries to make a lesson out of everything. But in this case, I really think it's legit.
See, the thing is, I wasn't ready for cats. I know that by now. I've been wanting a cat for a long time, now that I'm out making it on my own, but I hadn't purchased one yet because I didn't feel like I was quite ready. But the problem is, I have this soft spot in my heart for the abandoned, and they were about to lose their home... I guess I took them in as a kind of foster care service, to try to find them a good place to live. But of course I got attached, because I always get attached. And now I have no idea what I'm doing. Which just means I come home to whatever new mess they've made and get angry at creatures that have no idea why I'm upset. And that's not a good situation for anyone.
Just a few weeks ago, a guy I sit next to at work told me this very thing; that I wasn't ready for cats, and I got very upset with him. Did he really think I'm so incompetent a human being that I can't care for a couple of kittens until I find homes for them? I was quite insulted. But now I'm starting to see the wisdom behind his words. I don't think he meant to be offensive. It's just that I've had a rough couple of years, and things are finally starting to get better, and I really think this season of my life is about learning to take care of me. I wonder if having kittens is going to prevent that at all?
My problem is I put my whole heart into everything I do. It's a blessing and a curse, all wrapped up in one package. I stress out at work if I think I haven't paid a claim correctly. I want to get it right and do my job to the best of my ability. I want to be there for all my friends, right when they need me. I've found it difficult to be creative lately, because I just want things to be perfect. And Lord help me when I get into a relationship, because I give it everything I've got, whether or not it's worthy of everything I've got. I guess if I can't do something wholeheartedly, I find it hard to want to do it at all. And it's exhausting, let me tell you!
It's funny... because what I just said makes me sound a little perfectionistic. And I wouldn't really consider myself to be a perfectionist. If you look around at my messy apartment, or know anything about my messy life, you would think the same. But when it comes to matters of the heart, it's all or nothing for me.
If nothing else, I'm learning a lot from my crazy cats. I guess it's hard to have too much regret in life if you choose to learn from your mistakes and disappointments. I haven't decided yet if taking them in was really a mistake, or if this just means I need to let them go and admit that I'm just not ready to be taking care of anyone but me right now, or if I need to make room in my life for them and choose to give them what they need whether or not it's what I need...
I suppose there are very few people who would put this much thought into the decision. :) But I've committed to discovering the secret of living a full life, and this is just another attempt at it... even though it's just taking care of a couple of cats, I want to do this well. And if I can't do it, I want to find someone who can.
Just for the record, they're both acting crazy right now, running around my tiny apartment like maniacs, attacking each other, my couch, or my feet, whatever they happen upon first. In a minute or two, they will be attempting to climb onto my keyboard and my lap, purring deeply and ready to settle down for the night, simply wanting the affection I am anxious to give. It's these times when I think giving them up will be impossible. But time will tell. I want to learn all I can while they're here with me. Maybe they're supposed to help me appreciate the silence when they're gone...
I thought I would be up for hours tonight, because I drank an iced coffee just a little while ago, but a nice warm bed is starting to sound pretty awesome right about now. So I think I'm going to say goodnight for now... I'll write again soon.
It's amazing the things that come out of your mouth when you've had a typical Monday. I find myself yelling a lot these days. Things like: "What were you thinking?" and "Can't I just have ten minutes to myself when I get home??" and "Are you kidding me?" ...as if cats are quite skilled in the art of comic mockery. There are times when I am convinced that they have nothing better to do than piss me off. Just for the heck of it.
So why, you ask, do I even have cats? That is a very good question. I think they're here to teach me something. I don't want to be one of those annoying Pollyanna-type people that tries to make a lesson out of everything. But in this case, I really think it's legit.
See, the thing is, I wasn't ready for cats. I know that by now. I've been wanting a cat for a long time, now that I'm out making it on my own, but I hadn't purchased one yet because I didn't feel like I was quite ready. But the problem is, I have this soft spot in my heart for the abandoned, and they were about to lose their home... I guess I took them in as a kind of foster care service, to try to find them a good place to live. But of course I got attached, because I always get attached. And now I have no idea what I'm doing. Which just means I come home to whatever new mess they've made and get angry at creatures that have no idea why I'm upset. And that's not a good situation for anyone.
Just a few weeks ago, a guy I sit next to at work told me this very thing; that I wasn't ready for cats, and I got very upset with him. Did he really think I'm so incompetent a human being that I can't care for a couple of kittens until I find homes for them? I was quite insulted. But now I'm starting to see the wisdom behind his words. I don't think he meant to be offensive. It's just that I've had a rough couple of years, and things are finally starting to get better, and I really think this season of my life is about learning to take care of me. I wonder if having kittens is going to prevent that at all?
My problem is I put my whole heart into everything I do. It's a blessing and a curse, all wrapped up in one package. I stress out at work if I think I haven't paid a claim correctly. I want to get it right and do my job to the best of my ability. I want to be there for all my friends, right when they need me. I've found it difficult to be creative lately, because I just want things to be perfect. And Lord help me when I get into a relationship, because I give it everything I've got, whether or not it's worthy of everything I've got. I guess if I can't do something wholeheartedly, I find it hard to want to do it at all. And it's exhausting, let me tell you!
It's funny... because what I just said makes me sound a little perfectionistic. And I wouldn't really consider myself to be a perfectionist. If you look around at my messy apartment, or know anything about my messy life, you would think the same. But when it comes to matters of the heart, it's all or nothing for me.
If nothing else, I'm learning a lot from my crazy cats. I guess it's hard to have too much regret in life if you choose to learn from your mistakes and disappointments. I haven't decided yet if taking them in was really a mistake, or if this just means I need to let them go and admit that I'm just not ready to be taking care of anyone but me right now, or if I need to make room in my life for them and choose to give them what they need whether or not it's what I need...
I suppose there are very few people who would put this much thought into the decision. :) But I've committed to discovering the secret of living a full life, and this is just another attempt at it... even though it's just taking care of a couple of cats, I want to do this well. And if I can't do it, I want to find someone who can.
Just for the record, they're both acting crazy right now, running around my tiny apartment like maniacs, attacking each other, my couch, or my feet, whatever they happen upon first. In a minute or two, they will be attempting to climb onto my keyboard and my lap, purring deeply and ready to settle down for the night, simply wanting the affection I am anxious to give. It's these times when I think giving them up will be impossible. But time will tell. I want to learn all I can while they're here with me. Maybe they're supposed to help me appreciate the silence when they're gone...
I thought I would be up for hours tonight, because I drank an iced coffee just a little while ago, but a nice warm bed is starting to sound pretty awesome right about now. So I think I'm going to say goodnight for now... I'll write again soon.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
A Dragon's Job
Donald Miller says that having a Dad is like owning a dragon. To take something so great and powerful and strong, and to know that it is truly yours, that it is there to protect and defend you... who wouldn't want that? It would be amazing.
I never got a chance to own a dragon. But I always wanted one.
Then there are all the fairy tales, that paint a picture of the horrible, cruel dragon guarding the princess in some lofty tower while she awaits her brave knight to come rescue her. I know girls who still operate under this type of system with their fathers. She's "under his authority" until her husband decides to show up, and then they pass her off like some antique heirloom. Nice.
I'm hoping there is a third category out there. My knight must have gotten lost somewhere along the way. My dragon never cared enough to guard me from anything. In fact, if anything, he took it upon himself to cause me a lot of grief and heartache that I am still attempting to mend. The sad thing is, these days it is far from uncommon. My struggle to survive simply confirms the statistics.
I am, at least, grateful for our ability to adapt. I am trying, anyway.
So it is Father's Day. And this holiday is weird for me. It cuts much deeper than, say, Valentine's Day. And I guess that's because I can see somewhere in my future having some semblance of a Valentine. But I will never, ever get to have a Dad.
Perhaps I am not being fair, though. I have had a few father/daughter relationships with men who took me into their families simply because they cared that much about my broken heart. I called one of my "adopted Dads" yesterday, in fact, because he has been more of a father to me than mine ever was. And there is still another that I need to call...
But I'm thinking of calling my biological dad, too. I know. I must be crazy. I have no expectations. He could do or say anything. Honestly, I could say anything as well. I've got a lot of pent up anger I've never taken out on anyone. Lord help him if he sets off that minefield!
But I've got one of those scenarios playing out in my head where, in the movies at least, there is distance between the father/daughter, and then one day before she knows it he's dead and she's standing there at his grave wondering why she never picked up a phone and called him. If my father died, would I regret never having said something to him? This question has been bugging me lately.
The problem is, my life was not scripted by Hallmark, and the things I will probably end up saying are not the lovey-dovey, just-in-case-you-die sorts of things. But what I will say, I do not know. I could really freak him out by telling him he was supposed to be a dragon, and didn't fulfill a dragon's job in my life! :)
But life is just like that, because there was a garden and there was a forbidden fruit, and there was a decision, a fall, and a sinful world followed. We all have our set of obstacles to overcome, decisions to make, and battles to fight. This one happens to be mine. I never had a protector as a child, and I will probably have a hard time letting a man assume that role in my future. I want it, for sure, but I don't know if I'll let it happen. I'm pretty awkward when it comes to dating. I hope the next guy is pretty brave...
I guess I'll post an update if I get up the courage to call him. Say a prayer for me, if you're the praying type. And Happy Father's Day, to all you who choose to use your power for good...
I never got a chance to own a dragon. But I always wanted one.
Then there are all the fairy tales, that paint a picture of the horrible, cruel dragon guarding the princess in some lofty tower while she awaits her brave knight to come rescue her. I know girls who still operate under this type of system with their fathers. She's "under his authority" until her husband decides to show up, and then they pass her off like some antique heirloom. Nice.
I'm hoping there is a third category out there. My knight must have gotten lost somewhere along the way. My dragon never cared enough to guard me from anything. In fact, if anything, he took it upon himself to cause me a lot of grief and heartache that I am still attempting to mend. The sad thing is, these days it is far from uncommon. My struggle to survive simply confirms the statistics.
I am, at least, grateful for our ability to adapt. I am trying, anyway.
So it is Father's Day. And this holiday is weird for me. It cuts much deeper than, say, Valentine's Day. And I guess that's because I can see somewhere in my future having some semblance of a Valentine. But I will never, ever get to have a Dad.
Perhaps I am not being fair, though. I have had a few father/daughter relationships with men who took me into their families simply because they cared that much about my broken heart. I called one of my "adopted Dads" yesterday, in fact, because he has been more of a father to me than mine ever was. And there is still another that I need to call...
But I'm thinking of calling my biological dad, too. I know. I must be crazy. I have no expectations. He could do or say anything. Honestly, I could say anything as well. I've got a lot of pent up anger I've never taken out on anyone. Lord help him if he sets off that minefield!
But I've got one of those scenarios playing out in my head where, in the movies at least, there is distance between the father/daughter, and then one day before she knows it he's dead and she's standing there at his grave wondering why she never picked up a phone and called him. If my father died, would I regret never having said something to him? This question has been bugging me lately.
The problem is, my life was not scripted by Hallmark, and the things I will probably end up saying are not the lovey-dovey, just-in-case-you-die sorts of things. But what I will say, I do not know. I could really freak him out by telling him he was supposed to be a dragon, and didn't fulfill a dragon's job in my life! :)
But life is just like that, because there was a garden and there was a forbidden fruit, and there was a decision, a fall, and a sinful world followed. We all have our set of obstacles to overcome, decisions to make, and battles to fight. This one happens to be mine. I never had a protector as a child, and I will probably have a hard time letting a man assume that role in my future. I want it, for sure, but I don't know if I'll let it happen. I'm pretty awkward when it comes to dating. I hope the next guy is pretty brave...
I guess I'll post an update if I get up the courage to call him. Say a prayer for me, if you're the praying type. And Happy Father's Day, to all you who choose to use your power for good...
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