Reining it in

I love that my hair is long enough to pull up into the perfect messy bun.  No strays or stragglers.

I love that I opened this window on my left side and a burst of warm summer wind hit me in the face like a pleasant surprise.

I love that my Pandora is playing all the songs I like so I don’t have to waste any skips.

I love that my dog always knows just when I need her to snuggle up against me and be my friend.

I love that my babies are running through my house having fun despite me yelling at them to knock it off.

I know I will miss their mess and noise someday and I only need a moment of intentional gratitude to sober me.

I love that when I stop and take notice, I am overwhelmed with things to say thank you for.

The hardest thing about being a realist is that you’re really only a pessimist in disguise.

To halt myself from traveling down the familiar gloomy tracks and force instead a stroll down a brighter path…

Well, I’m more comfortable sitting in the shade.

My disappointment hangs from my body,

heavy and always inconvenient.

Protecting me from pain but hard to ignore…and if I’m being honest it only makes it worse.

But I am told to be in the light as He is in the light…

and I was.

Spent the fullness of time feeling welcomed and alive.

Now here we are again, and back to being the last resort.

Wasn’t quite ready to come home to the norm.

I have amends to make and bridges to burn, like calories…and we all know how good I am at that.

Frames and galleries of words that crowd my heart, and the space is getting limited in these chambers.

Bolted with hardware and welded to my arteries.

This kind of blockage requires a skilled surgeon.

Blood pumping through paths I’ve carved out to survive.

A masterpiece.
A bypass of emotion.

Today is a new day that has been made for my gain,

taking a new route and a fresh way.

I will choose gratitude.

What other choice do I have?!

I love that I have mastered the art of coming full circle, even when it seems pointless.

I love that a deep breath and honest words can set my focus strait.

I love that I will turn off this computer and leave the tears behind and get back to living.

Excuse my ramblings today. I just needed to rein it in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reblog: Water Weight

This was a post from last summer. I found that revisiting it this afternoon put a little bounce in my step and reminded me that big girls are allowed to enjoy summer too. Check out my point of view:

Water weight

A Summer Prayer

 

If fire is honor, then we’ll stand and let it burn.

Hot and loud as it calms into a deep burning midnight.

Popping and clapping its truths.

Glowing red and warm; a blanket of appreciation.

Shadows of flames dancing on our faces as we gather around and listen.

 

If water is pure,

let us strip off these pretenses and plunge in.

Washing away all of the expectations.

Easing the heavy weight from our bones, bathing us fresh and new.

 

If the earth is nakedness,

let us run.

Let us take to the fields and carry ourselves to the edges of sight.

Let us stomp our feet in the dust,
to the sound of drums.
Dancing unashamed.

Like the children who still live hidden away
under the layers piled on our hearts.

Let us uncover these wounds and expose them to the open air for healing.

 

If the stars are mystery,

let us follow their lead.

Surrendering our proud explanations and false humility.

Gazing upon the vastness and treasuring the wonder that we are so eager to dismiss.

 

If the moon is lonely,

let us be a friend.

Let us set ourselves aside and turn our faces toward each other.

Let us see what we don’t want to see.

Let us forgive and be forgiven.

 

If the sun is victory,

let it burn brilliant and forever.

Let us turn our faces upward in unison to soak up the radiance that is promised.

Let us lift our hands together in thanks.

Like warriors,
moments away from an earned homecoming.

Finishing strong and whole.

 

 

 

Every summer has its own story

I thought it would be fun to revisit an old post from last summer. Especially since it has a nostalgic vibe to it. Enjoy!

Mandimonologue

The summer I turned sixteen seems like an exaggerated moment in time when I think of it. Summers were long and lazy when we were younger. Watching cartoons, random tv and playing in the back yard with my siblings while our parents were at work filled the daylight hours. Lots of fighting with each other and calling mom at work only to get in more trouble for having bothered her in that way. Day after day of boredom and drowsiness.

At night I pretended to be more mature than I was and I would sneak out from my bedroom window to hangout with friends or even sneak them IN to hang out with me. I’m pretty sure that was the summer I felt like I was painfully in love for the first time and spent my thought life day dreaming of ways to see him at night. The kids I…

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New landscapes

There is much to be said about clutter and disorganization in your home having a direct correlation to your physical and mental health.  The internet is ripe with articles and testimonials about this phenomenon. Today, I was sitting in my backyard trying to have a clear and meditative moment when I decided that this was true.

My back yard looks like a desert wasteland.  You almost expect to see Mel Gibson dressed as Mad Max come walking around the corner of the house, covered with dust and scouring the land for supplies.  It’s embarrassing.   My husband and I joke about this to our friends but it is mostly to cover up the shame we both feel about having let it all go back there.  We have kids and a dog and Game of Thrones, obviously making yard work low on our priority list.  Its more like we warn people before they peek out the window.  We care about what our space and habitat looks like because it says a lot about who we are.  We are FAR from fancy but we try to make a good impression by sprucing and cleaning.  We want anyone who comes into our home to feel comfortable and welcome.  The success of Pinterest proves that we are a generation obsessed with cheap and easy DIY fixes for the home. We want to paint and spruce and decorate so that we feel “acceptable”.

It’s not that different from how we dress ourselves.   We primp and fuss with our hair and makeup, especially if we have somewhere special to be.  Clothes, shoes, bags and other accessories.  Women are known for paying attention to detail.  Lots of men are just as fussy about the way they look as us ladies are.  It’s just a necessary evil right?  We spend so much time showering, sugar scrubbing, shaving, lotioning and dressing.  Brushing, curling, straightening and spraying.  Blending, concealing, highlighting, and glossing.  Finally, we look in the mirror and survey if we are ready to leave the house.  Are we acceptable to be seen?  To step out in the marketplace and participate in life?   Even though these painted versions of ourselves aren’t truly who we are, they make us feel good enough about ourselves to go ahead and try.  We head out the door to conquer our day and the first time someone tells us we look nice we immediately say,”NOOOOOOOOOOOO.  No I don’t, I’m gross. But thank you.”  We mustn’t believe anyone when they actually compliment us, right?

If you busted your ass gutting out your back yard and pulling weeds and planting new sod you wouldn’t dismiss someone telling you how great it looked!  Why?!  Because you KNOW IT LOOKS GOOD GURRRL.  YOU WORKED HARD! It paid of and now you can take a deep breath, open a cold bottle of beer and enjoy.  Doesn’t that feel good?  To have gratitude for a nice space to sit and make memories in?  What in THE WORLD would happen if we treated our bodies the same way?  Like a sacred space, to enjoy sitting in and making memories with?

Looking around my yard and then my home I realized that in the same way I had kind of given up on my appearance because of not feeling good about myself…I had kind of done the same to my space.   Why has this evaded me?  Has there just been a massive point of no return?  Where I have given up caring about not only my body and how I can dress it…but it seems also my home and yard with it?

What would happen if I gave up fighting with myself this summer about how much I weigh, how I look or what im gonna wear and devoted all of that energy instead to rolling up my sleeves and cleaning up and fussing on this home that I have been graciously given?  What if my physical, emotional and spiritual self transformed in direct correlation to my feeling good about my living space as it had the other way around?

Am I crazy?

The here and now

“So line on up, and take your place
And show your face to the morning.
Cause one of these days, you’ll be born and raised.
And it all comes on without warning.”

– John Mayer, “Born and Raised”

Another summer is approaching.

Quickly.

It seems spring has barely unfolded it’s offerings before the heat of summer threatens to come on in and steal the show.

I hate to be the cliche person that seems baffled at how quickly time rolls by, shaking my head at all the young whipper-snappers.
But alas, here I am: amazed that before we know it, Memorial Day weekend will turn into Labor Day weekend and we will all be talking about how crazy it is that we are approaching the holiday season.

But don’t worry, I’m not asking you to dust of your Christmas bins. (Some of us just barely got that stuff packed back up!). Actually, I’m suggesting the complete opposite.

As I type this I am enjoying being a passenger on a family drive. Taking in the warmth and the sights and feeling like anything might be possible. Feeling thankful and joyful. Feeling like what lies ahead this summer may have the potential to be one of those great summers that songs are written about. One of those summers that are filled with smells and tastes and textures that will burn into your memory like the sun on your arm, resting on the open window of your car headed somewhere promising.

Wind blowing, music blaring.

I reach over and take this snap shot as we are driving and am struck once again at how simply God nudges us. These moments are all just brief snap shots. If you’re not paying attention you might miss it completely.

Miss out on a wink from your husband that speaks more to me than hours of road trip conversation.

Miss out on little fingers wanting to hold my hand for a moment.

Miss out on little voices yelling “slug bug!”.

Miss out on whatever is in store.

No, I’m in no rush. Today I don’t want to miss a thing.

Smoke, eggs, and the end of summer

I can’t believe August has flown by so quickly?! It felt like a blink. Summer is slipping away, attaching itself to this smoke that is slowly moving up and out of the valley I live in. Dark and thick, looming around everything in a dry haze. For the past couple of weeks the smoke from the fire in Yosemite has been trapped over our city, incubating us like a bird plopped right on top of her eggs, keeping them still and warm for hatching. When the smoke clears it seems we will be breaking through into a new season.

I like that. It feels like a rebirth.

Life seems like that, depending on which way you look at it. Either a dozen little deaths everyday or a constant chance for new birth and life. I think thats the way God designed it. For us to see his forgiving and restoring nature in everything around us.
When I’m feeling hopeful it feels new, like anything could happen. I wait with anticipation and excitement. I see the fingerprints of miracles on everything. My days are wrapped with a warm blanket of appreciation. I take a deep breath and really feel it swarm into the depths of my lungs and fill me up. A deep and gratifying sense of being alive.

Right now. In this moment. I am here.

I feel my body. I make myself aware of it. There is some soreness. There is a tightness in my back. My headache from this dang smoke has dulled but is still lingering. There is the familiar heaviness, but I don’t care because I’m not defeated.
I’m not dead. I’m living and alert.
The damage has not been done to this day yet and I feel sober minded.
Ready to tackle what lies ahead, today and in the season to come.

Some days when I wake up and sit to write I feel uninspired. I feel empty and am not sure what to write. Then I remind myself that it doesn’t matter. I’m not performing. I’m writing for myself. For the clearing of my mind and heart. To organize and arrange my thoughts and prayers, in the hopes of growing and moving forward. If you’re reading this, I am so honored to have you along for the ride. It’s nice to know I’m not alone and that in some small way I have been used to inspire someone else.

Sometimes I guess we just have to see beyond the smoke and know that even if they aren’t showing through, blue skies are on the way.

A Wednesday Jaunt

I’m headed out the door this morning to take the kids for a drive and meet for a picnic with their grandma. I’m looking forward to it because it is the last week of summer vacation before my boy is an official second grader and our life settles into the rhythm of school days. I’m happy to have one last mini adventure with them before all that begins.

Selfishly, I just really like to drive long distances by myself with the windows down and the music up. I feel like its cleansing for my mind which has been cluttered and weary with much lately. I’m looking forward to some time outside of my daily rigmarole to dream up and create some new affirmations and goals. I want some clarity on some of the things I have been learning this summer and where I’m headed with them. My hearts desire is to head into the next season of chilled weather and crunchy leaves with confidence and an action plan.

With that being said, I wonder what YOU do to inspire yourself? What are the ways in which you keep yourself motivated and spurred onward??

First Monday morning of the summer

This is one of my favorite summer songs and today is feeling especialy “Dave Matthews-y”. The kind of morning that you wish you could just jump out of bed and into your car for a road trip adventure. Summer is officially here. I have every intention of soaking up each hot and lazy moment with my babies today. Feeling great despite all the stresses bidding me to come and fret. I wanted to re-share this poem I wrote a few months ago…it reminded me (once again) that I am I charge of how I receive my day. Attitude really IS everything.

GET UP

Morning fresh, calling me to join it.
Hard to push comfort away.
To keep going,
resisting myself.
Fighting the familiar current and pull of ease.

Get Up!

Breaking new ground today.
Scissors through red ribbons,
ushering me.
Welcome to new!

A new day, new start, new breath,
new heart.
New stance and way to see.
To be and act differently.
Blink blink, so much to do.
Vision clear.
Victory near.
I’m alive and life is for the living.

Heart thumping.
Limbs moving,
deep breaths,
refreshed.
Im wide awake, eyes fully opened and
shoes laced.

Taking my place in the world
amongst the busy birds.
Hustle bustle!
Go get it!
So grateful, thank you.

Water weight

I don’t know any large people who enjoy summer.

I make a genuine attempt but it might be in vain.

For most of us, there is the issue of clothing. Some people are trapped in long shirts and pants all summer long because they don’t feel comfortable enough to wear shorts (luckily for me, I have no shame when it comes to this and wear shorts despite the way my legs look. I choose comfort!). This is problematic because of sweating and general discomfort. Also, shorts require shaved legs…this can be quite the arobic activity. Figure that one out.

With big heavy clothes covering a big heavy body you become a walking furnace…beading constantly with sweat. Any attempts at fixing hair or make-up is futile. All efforts are guaranteed to melt away. A fat woman in the summer lives in a constant dampened state where her hair and face are in danger of becoming a frizzy and smeared mess. Making dressing up for a date night or wedding a nightmare to be avoided at all costs.

Then there is the bathing suit dilemma…this seems to be a hot button issue for all human beings but particularly for the over-weight person. Is there anything more exposing than what you wear to go swimming? I’m of the t-shirt/sports-bra/cotton shorts camp. It “suits” me well. (Yikes! I couldn’t help myself.)

Summer isn’t ALL bad !? There is the upside of summer fruit. I love the endless options of ice cold watermelon, berries, pineapple, grapes…WHATEVER. I love them all. I buy so much fruit in the summer I feel like a roman empress. It’s almost shameful.

But there is something very magical that happens in the life of every over-weight person in the summer (if they are comfortable enough to allow themselves to GET IN and enjoy it). A single activity that we can participate in during the HOT summer months that allows the body to feel free and light.

Swimming. It is glorious.

I have spent the weekend swimming with my husband and siblings and playing non-stop with my kids.
Our skin is tight, toasted and freckled from the sun.
Our eyes are tender, recovering from all the chlorine exposure.
Our hair is a mess of tangles.
Our sleep has been deep. The kind of sweet sleep that only comes from very hard work or play.

Summer for this family is in full swing. Despite spending another summer being big…feeling miserably hot and sweaty I want to make the most of it. I want to have all my weekends leaving me feeling this abundantly full and blessed. Drowsy from fun with loved ones. Laughing and playing.

So often, I am watching them and cheering on from the sidelines…so when I get to be in the pool with them, I feel like the best mother in America. Like I get to make up for all the other times I’m not able to.

I can feel and bend and maneuver myself in ways that are near impossible outside of the water. It brings so much relief. An escape, albeit short-lived, from bearing the literal weight of myself.

Now, back to the Monday morning grind…learning how to unload the weight of my figurative self. I wish it were as easy as slipping into a pool of cool water.