Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag? Drifting through the wind? Wanting to start again? Just kidding...but seriously, admit it. Sometimes you just feel like dirt. Not the pretty red dirt that could be turned into clay, not the soil that fertilizes the beautiful plants, but the dirt that lies with fossils; dirt that lies with the dead, like I'm at a dead - end. I can feel so lost sometimes, but not often because I'm too busy focusing on a degree that has nothing to do with my dreams, or so I think. Lately, I've been having a pain in my chest (figuratively speaking...somewhat) that feels like a gut feeling. It's a feeling that people tend to act upon because they know it'd lead to something positive/negative; a serious consequence. **Side note: a gut feeling occurs due to sharing the same emotional chemical produced in your brain with you stomach. So, you're actually FEELING you're emotions. Yay for college education! Anyway, I have been praying a lot about things that probably aren't necessary. A.K.A. selfish praying (or at least I think it is). I've been praying for guidance, but more like "PLEASE JUST GIVE ME SOME SORT OF SIGN BECAUSE THINGS AREN'T GOING SO HOT DOWN HERE AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO." With that thought, the past week, I have been realizing that I have absolutely NO way of knowing what will happen next in my life. None. Even if I do have my planner laid out in front of me, things could change in a second. I can't keep worrying about what I should be doing or what others think I should do because it's not up to me, and let me tell you, that DRIVES. ME. NUTS. I always feel like I NEED to know everything; what I should do, where I should go, what I need to prepare, etc. But, in reality, I don't need to worry about SQUAT. Even though I might not enjoy what I'm doing now (I'm talking like I like it 30% of the time), maybe it's in my will; maybe it's what I'm supposed to be doing. It could be a part of my ultimate goal; my will in His plan, even though I'd rather run 10 miles than continue to do what I'm doing. And you know what? The past month or so, I swear, EVERY sermon at my Church has been giving me hints. Basically, the hint has been, "Chill out, be true, and let me do my work. - God" So, I'm doing my best to just relax and let things fall where they may, which has been challenging, but interesting at the same time. I can't recall each one specifically, but I remember 2 that stood out to me... 1. Stop waiting for Him, because He is waiting for you. 2. Don't be like the rest of the world. Clear your mind. When you do, you'll know what to do. My husband and I talked a lot about this topic last night, lying in bed, wondering why we were given such plans. He concluded with, "Seek and ye shall find." I concluded with, "Knock and the door shall be opened unto you." Let it be, let it be Let it be, let it be Whisper words of wisdom Let it be. -The Beatles
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
The Balloon: I went to my favorite restaurant on Friday night with my husband and we enjoyed some great food and music. It must have been someone’s birthday because a woman had a bunch of latex balloons in tow. Near the end of the musician’s set, one of the balloons had been set free from its leash and it had also lost its perkiness due to stale helium. Once the balloon had been set free, it began to happily bounce through the crowd of merry people, hitting everyone’s volleyball spike with joy. I watched as the balloon traveled through the half drunken crowd and I thought, “Wow. It’s amazing how helium – filled latex can connect such a joyous crowd on a Friday night. That’s awesome.” The Purple Chair: I watched a rented movie late one night over the weekend about two families who went through great lengths together to find their kidnapped daughters. The fathers of both daughters had captured the kidnapper and tortured him in order to get information out of him, since he was an accomplice to the lead criminal. Near the end, the case had been blown open by a lead provided by a supermarket clerk. Once the lead had been investigated, they held a man in custody who had been a prime suspect in the kidnapping. They captured him at a house whose walls had been covered in drawings of a maze; another clue. The house also contained large, black toolboxes that contained numbers of different kinds of snakes in addition to bloody children’s clothing. The clothing had been photographed piece by piece by investigators, which were then shown to each family in a private office. The first family stormed out of the office, emotionally destroyed by the assumed fact that their daughter was killed. The second family only consisted of the father since the mother was too emotionally distraught to leave her bed. The father entered the office, which was full of office furniture; a long meeting table and numerous, cushioned, mobile, purple chairs. The father sat in one of the chairs and examined the photos. One photo struck him when he noticed that the piece of clothing in the photo belonged to his daughter, which was covered in blood. A bullet of emotions struck his body while that purple chair supported everything; his physical weight, weight of emotions, everything. That’s the purple chair’s job. It supports many emotions each time it has an occupant. It’s the occupant’s world in the moment; the only support, comfort, and unforgettable piece in an occupant’s mind during a brief moment of heartbreak. Purple chair = a world in itself. Walking to the mailbox: I live in an RV and commute to school every day via a free commuter bus. Over the weekend, I was sitting at a makeshift table/bed, looking out the window and I spotted a man wearing a red coat and forest green pants off in the distance. He was walking a long walk down the lane (I live on a ranch…gravel and dirt only) and he crossed a highway to reach his mailbox. Looking up from my work very now and then, I watched him make the trek back down the lane with his mail clenched in his gloved hand. It made me think how hard he works to keep his ranch up and running all while volunteering at Church, being the head of the Church board, Search and Rescue, the Main Street Cowboy organization, visiting people in need, taking care of his family, and so much more. The walk he took out to the mailbox, reminded me of how relaxing and mind - clearing a simple walk can be, especially in the midst of such a hectic and focused schedule. Sometimes taking a break to enjoy some fresh air and nature’s beauty is all it takes to get back up and at it. I mean, at 74, with diabetes, naively keeping up his reputation as my hero, he is one hard – working grandpa.