Friday afternoon thoughts (song link added)

I posted my last post immediately after hearing the news about my job. Then driving home from work on Friday evening, I had so many thoughts rolling around in my head that I flipped on my little voice recorder and started talking them all out. Sometimes I do that - kind of a verbal diary for when I can't write. Just like looking back on a journal, it's interesting to go back to it. But this time, after listening to it when I got home, I decided to turn it into a blog post. Why not? But I only had time to get it out now, so I've been feeling kinda guilty all weekend, reading your comments and well wishes (thank you!) knowing that I was ok with things, but just not having the time to post! Such is the way things go sometimes. Life before blog!

So here it is, word for word (ok, minus most of the ums and the and random comments to traffic muttered as I made my way through the Friday streets). This is probably one of teh most personal things I've ever posted. And remember, this is verbal, people. Don't judge me for my grammar and lack of varied vocab on this one! Cause you know, it's so spectacular usually... ;) I didn't know I was gonna be sharing this with the world when I was saying it!


Friday May 4, 6:30pm

Here I am driving home, listening to Carolyn Dawn Johnson's "Into You" [seriously, go listen, it's fantastic! It's at the core of my newly develloping dating manifesto. But that's another post for another time...] and then earlier, sitting in my classroom with the light streaming in - bright beautiful May day... and... just being really happy. Norah Jones playing, doing my marking, really happy and content, enjoying the content of grade 5 - the Cariboo Gold Rush, all of that stuff - then finding out about my job and taking a bit of a nose dive and how that was temporary, in-the-moment... and now... I kinda have my head wrapped around teaching kindergarten now. Thinking that, you know? This might be a good thing, and it might be... yeah, just what I needed. I feel like I'm too harsh with these kids - with my grade 5's - and wanting to, um... enjoy the little-kiddieness of it, and kindergarten? .... yeahHA! I'm gonna have to! And me thinking how I don't know how to assess how my grade 5's are reading exactly, and in kindergarten, I'm gonna learn those skills... and that... it's gonna be GOOD. And I think a lot of the things that I've been wanting to learn as a grade 5 teacher, I think a jaunt in kindergarten will be good for me. It'll be... alright, it'll be a lot of work. Won't be a lot of marking, but it'll still be a lot of work - prep, and things... but I'm finding I'm ok with it as I'm driving home, and listening to that song on the radio...

... and feeling like the biggest weight has come off of my shoulders, um, especially after having talked to [the boy of previously alluded to boy stuff] this week. Talking to him... really gave me... I hate to use the word, but "closure" and I feel like can continue on now, and I feel like I can... I can finally feel like that's all behind me now. Yeah, it's amazing, I feel like the biggest, biggest weight has been lifted off my shoulders. And I think that a lot of how I've been feeling over the last year has been emotionally sucked up by what's been going on with him - either liking him and not knowing how he felt, or going on dates and being so crazy excited I can't think of anything else, or in agony over what's gonna happen, or what has happened, and then being hurt and then mad about it and everything, and I've been thinking, it's put me in a bad place, in a sense. Not him, but the situation. I really feel... I don't know, I've just felt really selfish for the last year, like I've been... too sucked up by my own stuff to be as interested in other people, and I haven't liked who I've been over the last year, and I feel like that's all different, now. I feel like I have more emotional energy to think about other people, and... I just feel so much lighter.

And the other thing I was thinking about - so I guess there was the school stuff, and then the boy stuff, and then there was the... blessing stuff.

Melissa commented on my blog that good things happen to me. She goes, "Good things happen to you, Hillary."

And you know what? They do. [and this is where I started to crack] And I am SOOO blessed in my life - thinking about my job, thinking about my family... thinking about, you know, how blessed I am to have been in this school, and that I probably will be able to stay... and how blessed I am thinking about this settlement and thinking about my retro pay last year, and how great that was, and how easy it is to lose track sometimes of how blessed we are. And I just think that... like... what have I been looking at??? I've been SO tied up in all this, you know, gross stuff, lately that I haven't been able to focus on the good stuff, and... it's time to change that.

My life is good. And I'm really grateful for it...

Aaand, it's the start of a beautiful weekend, and I'm NOT behind in marking for the first time since September - while I've got a lot to do, I'm not behind - and I've got a fun night tonight, and a beautiful day tomorrow, and time with friends, and time for marking, and time to buy some PRETTY FLOWERS! and put them in my garden! and do a photography workshop, and then my dancing class... and...

Life is good. And I am grateful. And... the school thing? Ehh... I'll be alright.

The! End!

A breath of fresh air

I went down to Stanley Park today to get down to the beach, to walk, to enjoy the sunshine, to take some pictures, to clear my head a bit. I realized I needed to allow myself the time to just relax and do something I enjoy doing. I need to do way less of what I usually do, which is fret about the work I have to do, and not really do the work and not really relax, either. More work. More play. Less fret. It's a recipe for a happier Hillary. I need to spend more time doing things that make me happy.


"Is it something that makes your life better?"

That's a question a friend asked me a while back, and it's become a really good measure by which to judge whether what I'm doing is worthwhile (not that I remember to use it, but hey, it's a process!).

So let's take a look at today, shall we? It was a beautiful day. Sunny and clear after many days of grey. And, sorry to all you socked-in-by-snow-and-freezing-your-tushies-off folks out there, but it was warm. (I even saw a few folks out in shorts, one guy in sandals! Crazy!) Despite all the downed trees, the park was still, well, Stanley Park. There's a reason it's called the jewel of Vancouver.

It was BUSY today, too. But with the business comes the kids, comes the families, comes the "Give me another underduck, daddy!" and the "Look mommy! A jellyfish!" and the run-skip-and-jumping and the kisses on the tops of toussled-haired heads.

I love watching families playing together.

I love being by the ocean.

I love taking out my camera and just shooting whatever.

I love looking at the incredible, glorious place that I live.

I love hearing God saying, "I love you."

Was it something that made my life better? Absolutely!

Alive

A prayer wafts up
silently
amid the noise of day
thoughts louder than words
crash heavily

help

the flow of life
at times
opressive
at times
making my feet take off dancing
a life of their own
joy flowing down to my toes

the mixture bittersweet
and lovely

Domestic

I woke up this morning to the sound of the rain, which is pretty impressive, because I live in a ground floor suite. There's no rain on the roof here, just the pounding drops hitting the ground outside my window.

I love the sound of the rain. There's something soothing about it. I laid in bed for a while, just listening, before I got up to start my day.

My to do list today is long, too long to accomplish everything, but I switched on some music and got to it. I did the dishes, then called Rachelle and talked to her for a while about life in Iowa with two babies. I talked about crazy work and all the fun of the single life while she told me about her plans to meet up with two other mommies once a month for a day of cooking and a meal exchange. After we said goodbye, I got back to work, some of my favourite worship tunes playing on my DVD player. I tidyed up, washed the floor, put away some groceries. The bathroom is cleaned, and the piles of paper in the 'office' are going to be dealt with today, by hook or by crook.

I've got the door open, so I can hear the rain that continues to fall. The cool-ish November breeze brings in the smell of wet leaves and the tiniest hint of smoke from a neighbour's chimney. The occasional ding-ding-ding of my windchimes float in over the music.

As I drag my couch back into position, I can't help but think that I really wish there was someone else here right now. Not to help me move the couch - I can do that on my own. I can do most things on my own, actually. But I don't want to.

Today is just one of those days when I look ahead to another rainy Saturday some years from now. I'll wake up to the rain with my best friend beside me. My kids will jump into bed with me for a morning snuggle before we go downstairs for breakfast and some Saturday morning cartoons. There'll be a bigger mess to clean up, with less time to do it. Life will be busier, more complicated, and I'll be more tired. But there will be a richness in my life that I can only attempt to understand now.

There's a quiet beauty in a rainy domestic Saturday. I'm looking forward to having someone to share it with.

Full

I don't even know where to start. My head is so full of thoughts, all swirling, all needing to be savoured, to be left to percolate. I want them to touch me deeply, but I'm afraid that with the fragile state they're in now, they'll be lost too soon. I always seem to be left with just a taste in my mouth. Never the whole meal, never enough to satisfy. I want to chew each thought slowly and let it fill me up. Of course, then there's the issue of what to write here. Who will see it? Do I want to be that raw, that open, for everyone to see?

Love? Something is stirring in me. I pray and I pray for it to go away. I'm afraid that nothing will ever come of it, and I don't want to feel that pain.

Disappointment. Or rather, a great fear of disappointment. I try so hard not to get my hopes up, for fear they will come crashing down. Again.

Hope. False or founded? I want to simultaneously squash it and do everything possible to keep it alive. It's not just about him - about everything. Particularily about finding the "me" I seem to have lost somewhere along the way this year.

Longing. To be me again. To not be overwhelmed. To slip my hand into his. To be so much more of the person God wants me to be. Longing that sometimes is barely noticeable, but sometimes comes to the surface and is so strong my chest aches.

Fear. "I fell funny. Funny-bad." This year has been hard. I haven't felt like myself. To look at me, one would say that everything is going well. Work friends, family, church - all good. I almost feel ungrateful when I say that something just feels wrong. I had to fight away tears at the play tonight when the actor read a monologue that could have been about me. Fear that all I hope for won't happen. Fear that I won't be "good enough" in what I do. Fear that my Jesus will stop having patience with ever-wandering me.

As the author of that monologue had finally been able to put his finger on what had been nagging at him, I came to see that for me it was the same thing. Even as I'm writing this, I see how much fear is at the root of what I'm feeling. It's not a knee knocking horror film type terror. It's not even a tangible worry that I can identify and deal with. Instead it seems to be a subtle change in character, a timidness about life. It's as if I'm afraid to really live, to put my heart out there. At a deep, nearly unrecognizable leve, I'm afraid to risk. I didn't used to be that way. It feels like this year I've become jaded. Lost something.

Fear is a funny thing. It seems to sneak up on you. It slowly coils around you and starts to restict your movement. I see now why the words "paralysing" and "fear" are used together. And I see how the paralysis can be so much more than physical.

As Chrsitmas apporaches, I find myself thinking about the angels that came to Mary, to Jospeh, and to the shepherds in vast multitues. The first thing on their lips was "Do not be afraid." Then I think to all the times in the Bible that phrase has been uttered.

"I am the God of your father Abraham. Do not be afraid, for I am with you... The Lord will say to those with fearful hearts, 'Be stong. Do not fear. Your God will come.'... Do not be afraid, for I am with you and I will rescue you... Don't be afraid, just believe... Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid...

As I sit and think about Christmas, I'm reminded that I have no reason to fear. My past is redeemed and my future is secure. As I muddle along in the present, I'll try to keep this in mind.

Do not be afraid.
Do not be afraid.
Love has found it's way to you.
Do not be afraid.

Click here to play

The shabby green door

Last night I listened to a talk by Dave Gotts, who is the director of International China Concern, an organization who works with abandoned babies, children, and young people in China. It left me rather overwhelmed.

There are over one million children abandonned in China every year. Eighty percent of them die.

Dave decribed the scene at a particular orphanage in China... One worker caring for fourty children, many of whom had some sort of mental or physical disability, or both. Four or five children sharing one wooden cot to sleep on. Children going wild when the meager meal was brought in, swarming the servers, stuffing the food into their mouths as fast as they could for fear another child would steal it from their hands and crawling along the filthy floor picking up any leftover grain of rice they could find; anything that they could put in their mouths. Bones that had been chewed clean and tossed on the floor would be picked up by someone else, sucked clean and tossed away once more, only to be picked up by another child, then another, then another. The light of hope extinguished from a child's eyes because they knew that they were most likely going to die. All humanity had gone from that place.

Then there was the shabby green padlocked door. This is where kids go when there are too many children in the orphanage. It's off in a corner beside a noisy water system, which would drown out the sound of a child crying or pleading for food. Eventually, the child stops crying, stops pleading, and quietly starves to death.

What kind of world lets children die cold and alone padlocked behind a door. What kind of world leaves a child on the street to die just because it's a girl and not a boy? Things like this happen all over the world. Extreme povery and suffering in India, in Africa. Even right here in my own neighbourhood. A homeless man died on Sunday morning on Hastings Street. He froze to death. What kind of world are we living in???

I cannot shake the image of that door. I don't think I want to. It's so easy to hear a story like that and feel so far removed from it. It's overwheming. It's so far away. What could I possibly do? But I don't want to just slough it off, letting it bring a tear to my eye and then carrying on with my life as if it never happened. I want it to affect me, to motivate me to action, but I'm scared of what that means, and don't even know where to start.

Something about the ocean...

Vancouver, of course, is a city surrounded by ocean. It's protected water, though, sheltered from the open ocean by Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands. It's not the Oregon Coast kind of ocean. Instead, it's a much calmer beast, seemingly surrounded on all sides by mountains.

I can not imagine myself living away from the water. There's something about spending time on the beach that renews me. It's at the ocean that I often feel much closer to God than I do anywhere else.

I grew up no more than a 10 minute walk (usually much less) to four different beaches. First, there was the main beach at Deep Cove. We'd often go there in the summer to swim and year round to just goof around. Even as a child I was struck by the beauty there. I did a painting or a drawing one time in grade 5 or grade 6 of the view from Deep Cove. I loved it. My teacher loved it, too, and asked me if she could keep it. I wish I still had it.

About a five minute walk away from my house was my favourite place to go swimming. It didn't really have a name, I don't think. We called it the secret beach. There was a little path between the back yard of one house and the side yard of another that would take you to a rickety set of wooden stairs. It looked like you were walking through someone's yard to get there. The beach was small - maybe only thirty feet of sand and broken shells worn smooth by the waves - and it was nestled in between the rock retaining walls surrounding the waterfront homes on either side. The best times to go swimming there was when the tide was either way in or way out. That way, we didn't have to step all over the barnacle-covered rocks as we eased our bodies into the cold water. There seemed to be a strip of those nasty barnacles right at the mid-tide level. We'd often come home with tiny cuts all over our feet, but it didn't matter. There was great swimming at the secret beach.

Down at the end of my street, there was a little public dock. Right in front of the dock there was (is!) a small island with a house on it. Sometimes we'd swim to the island when the tide was low. That dock was my haven as a teenager. If ever I was upset and needed to get away, I'd go down there. The early morning or dusk were my favourite times: a mist hung over the water and the light was still grey around me. It was quiet and calm, and every now and then, if you were lucky, you might see a seal pop his head up off in the distance. I would often go there to meet with God.

Over the years, there have been countless encounters between me and the ocean. Snuggling up on the beach on New Year's Day with an old boyfriend... watching the summer sun slip behind the horizon at Birch Bay and remembering how my grandma loved to do the same when she was still alive... watching pods of killer whales swim alongside the boat up in Port McNeil... gathering with hundreds of thousands of people to watch the offshore fireworks competitions in Vancouver every summer... silently paddling from bay to bay in a kayak, watching the shore glide past... going for longs walks with worship music playing on my discman, feeling God's presence with me as I walk... looking out at the forever horizon down on the Oregon Coast or at Long Beach, with the waves crashing in and feeling so small... crouching at the shore to listen to the sound of tiny pebbles rolling over each other as the water eased in and out, in and out...

Most of all, the ocean reminds me of God and his faithfulness. It's steady and unchanging. It's where I often get a better perspective on my life. It's where I can block other things out and just focus on Him. I definitely need to spend more time at the water's edge.

Yogurt and M&Ms

That's what I had for dinner. Blech. I haven't really even been hungry the last few days. And I've been sooo tired. I can't even stay awake to watch a show. I'm asleep on the couch within the first 45 mins. My house is a mess, and I have no motivation at ALL to do anything about it. I feel down, icky. I feel far away from God. I miss those spontaneous bursts of joy I used to have. I had them all the time: having the kids at school waving at me with a great big grin as I walked to my car after school, or hearing the crunch of the leaves under my feet, having a song on the radio touch my heart. I haven't felt that way for a year. Where did I go? What's wrong with me? God has even done some really cool stuff lately, but even the joy in that seems dulled. I want the old me back!

Happy Thanksgiving!

I feel like I've been in a funk for a year. I'm tired of feeling this way. Sometimes when you're looking too closely at your problems or the things that don't quite seem right in your life, you can miss the big picture. It's time to lift my eyes up off of myself and get a change in perspective...

* Jesus Christ * fall leaves crunching underfoot * Nana, who has prayed for me every single day of my life * the chance to see some of the most magestic sights I've ever seen this summer * beginning a solid career at age 24 * those trees whose leaves turn colours from the inside out, leaving red leaves on the outside, yellow in the middle, and green closest to the trunk * having friends I know I can rely on when things are tough * oreo ice cream * my parents' example of a solid, lasting marriage * finally beginning to be friends with my sister * puffy white clouds against blue sky * country music that makes me cry because it reminds me of what's important * wonderful, friendly, caring landlords * the means to meet every need I have and more * my car (yes, MY car) which gets me where I need to go. Usually. * grace * living in Vancouver * having a life free of major disaster or pain * my pompom socks, which remind me of my best friend * hugs from kids * the experience of having loved * being raised in a Christian home * the chance to have gone to university * a wonderful roommate experience * a friend who is always able to talk sense into me * some painful experiences over the last year * a God who will never leave me * my suite * a church home that encourages me to be who I am, the good, the bad, and the sometimes ugly * I am safe and warm at night * laughter * the night sky * memories * Camp Kawkawa * the touch of a friend's hand on my arm * joy * the security of knowing my parents will always be there for me, no matter what * the ocean * my dog * freedom * a season of searching * gerbera daisies * God's faithfulness * wind that whips my hair around my face * music * chocolate * not getting what I think I want sometimes * sunshine * second (and third, and fourth, and fifth... ) chances * being able to be myself * the constant struggle to figure out who I am *

My life, just as it is
where I have come from
the road I am pointed towards
the joy I feel when I remember all I have been given
the hurt and longing and confusion that comes with living
waking up every morning
to the knowledge that I am safe
in the hands of the creator of the universe
and that this same God
knows me deeply and personally... ME!
My life, just as it is...

For all these things and infinitely more, I am thankful.

And now for something completely different...

So this is how non-political I am: I'm even uncomfortable with that giant post I wrote yesterday even being on my blog. I was considering moving it to my other webpage and just linking to it. But I wrote it, it's there, so there it will stay. Unless I change my mind. Anyway, I said this would be different...

This past week has been both hard and interesting. Cathy left on Monday after staying with me for two months. Her practicum was over and she has two weeks to spend visiting friends and relatives in Edmonton and Winnepeg, then she goes back home to Australia. It was so great to have her here. We hung out all the time (and with my friends Dave and Jordan, we made quite the foursome!) and it was neat to have a roommate experience. Other than living with my aunt and uncle and cousins for eight months in northern BC (Mackenzie, to be exact, a town so small mapquest doesn't recognize it), I've only lived on my own.

I've always enjoyed living on my own, definitely not because I like to have lots of "on my own" time. I am a person who needs to be around people. But living on my own, I can do what I want - host a Bible study or dinner party without checking with anyone first, rearrange the furniture (not that I've done that, but hey, I could if I wanted to!), leave a mess (err... I neeever do that...), or be alone if I want. It the "it's my house and I get to do what I want" idea. However, because there is not someone else at home, I am often having people over - I love to host, talking on the phone - I love to talk, or talking to people on messenger. I need that connection with other people.

And honestly, in the past few months, I had been feeling a little fed up with living on my own. If my landlords weren't so great, I didn't like my place so much and I didn't really know my neighbours, I would consider moving and maybe finding a roommate. It would certainly be nice to share the burden of rent! But I don't really know anyone who I'd like to live with who is also looking for a roommate, and I really don't want to leave the good thing I've got here (even if the silly patio posts are BLUE. Rar.). It's jsut that sometimes it was geting me down living alone.

Also, a few months before Cathy came to stay with me, I was wondering if the "It' my house I'll do what I want" thing was promoting self-centeredness. I don't have to have consideration for anyone else at home. While sometimes it's good to be able to have the freedom to do what we want, I think too much of that could end up to be a bad thing. So when Cathy talked about coming, I was worried about that on two levels. First, on a more selfish level, I wondered if I would not enjoy having to share my space with someone else, and if I would resent having to check with someone else before I had people over or made plans. That was only a small concern, though. The second concern was that *I* would drive *her* crazy. Also, I wanted her to feel like this was her home, too, not that she was jsut a guest and should feel like she had to ask before she did anything.

It turned out I had nothing to worry about. Or at least, if I drove her crazy, she hid it well! ;) Even though it was tight quarters, I actually really enjoyed having someone else around. It certainly didn't hurt that it was someone as fun as Cathy! I didn't mind sharing my space at all, and it turned out checking with her was kind of a non issue most of the time because we'd just always hang out together (she didn't know anyone really when she came, so my friends jsut became her friends). And, she felt totally at home here, which made me really happy.

So when it came time for her to leave, I started to wonder how I'd be feeling about gonig back to being on my own again. It was kind of getting to me before, so would it be all the more obvious that I live alone after having the contrast of having a roommate?

Cathy left to catch her flight after I went to work on Monday, so when I went to work, she and all her stuff were still there. Packed up, but still there. When I got home from work, my place looked really empty! She had even taken off the sheets and folded up the quilt on her bed. Sigh. I was very obviously back to living on my own again.

That combined with work being exhausting this week and all this ugly strike stuff, it's been a rough week. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday all I did when I got home was check email, read a few blogs, and flop in front of the tube, only to fall alseep there and wake up the next morning with a crick in my neck and a bigger mess around the house than there was the day before (those mess-making trolls... they must come at night and wreak havoc. There's no way *I* could let things get so messy. Not me, no sir.). I couldn't even hack Bible Study on Wedensday. I never skip out of that unless I'm out of town, which is hardly ever.

So it's been interesting to say the least. It's the long weekend now, though, and I'm going to be well fed (three Thanksgiving dinners in a row, and Dave and Jordan had me over for dinner last night) and hopefully well rested. It looks like I"ll still have some free time next week, cuase I don't think this teacher's strike is going to be resolved soon.

I jsut hope this feeling of sheer exhaustion and mild depression goes away soon. I want to be back to Happy-Go-Lucky-Hillary again. Maybe it's time for a walk through all those crunchy fall leaves to cheer me up.

Home

Apparently this is still a confused word for me.

I have been living on my own for... [counting on my fingers] ... wow. Six years now. I have been at my place now for exactly three. I feel like my place is home. I still refer to my mom and dad's place as 'home' sometimes, but I would say overall, 'home' is my own place.

That's sort of a wierd shift for me. It's strange going home (there I go again... I mean to mom and dad's) and not totally feeling like I belong there. I don't have a bedroom there anymore, and I don't always remember where things are. When I'm helping to unload the dishwasher, I often have to ask where things go in the kitchen.

Even more strange is coming home, er, to mom and dad's, and having the first person I see be someone I've never met before. My parents are part of a homestay program for a few language schools in town, so there is almost always at least one student from Japan or Germany or Brazil or any number of other countries staying there. Sometimes I walk in (I do still have a housekey!) and the new student looks at me like, "Who are you?" (They're not always that attentive to photos on the walls, etc). I feel like saying, "Hi, I'm Hillary. I live here."

Except I don't.

I realized this past week that this issue of 'home' is more confused for me than I thought it was. As I've mentionned, my friend Cathy from Australia is staying with me right now while she's finishing up her ocupational therapy practicum. Other than her staying with me, I've never had a roommate, so the only reason I've had to phone my house is to occasionally leave a reminder voicemail for myself.

The other day I was grocery shopping and wanted to know if Cathy wanted me to pick anything up. So, I got out my cell to call home. And that's exactly what I did. I dialed the number without even thinking, and after two rings, I got a voice I was definitely not expecting.

"Uh.... hi, Dad."

I had called home.

We had a good chuckle about this and then I did what I meant to do in the first place: call home.

Now this makes for a cute story, but it's not exactly blogwothy in and of itself. However, the story's not over. (Hillary? Tell a short story? Neeeever!)

Cut to last Friday afternoon. I was preparinng for my substitute teacher who will be there all week while I'm at Grade 7 Camp. It was taking longer than I had expected and Cathy and I had plans for the evening. I needed to call her to ask her to get dinner started so we could eat before we went out.

The command went from my brain to my fingers: Call Home. One ring later, "Um... hi, mom."

I laughed at myself and told her how I ended up sounding confused and talking to her instead of Cathy. She then then told me that she thought I was calling to wish my dad happy birthday. AAAHHHH! Which also meant that I had forgotten to call her on her birthday three days earlier. But that level of "I'm a bad bad daughter" guilt requires it's very own post.



'Home' is not a cut and dry word for me, apparently. I guess on some level, mom and dad's will always be home. It's where I grew up, it's where my family is. It looks like I'm in for a few more confused phone calls 'home.' And I'm ok with that.

Untitled

The last tiny yellow petal fluttered to the ground. Back and forth back and forth. How would it end? Now she knew. Her heart sank and she sighed. She looked sadly at the little pile of yellow she had created and thought, if only...

Undeterred, she reached out and picked another flower. She smiled as the first petal touched the gound. Maybe this time.

Overcoming

This weekend, as I was walking down from one of the most beautiful places I've been in my life, walking through mountain meadows full of wildflowers, looking out over a turquiose lake, glaciers, and mountain range after mountain range fading off into the summer haze, driving my friend Sarah crazy with all the photos I was taking, one word kept popping into my head.

Overcoming.

I am no longer afraid or intimidated by things that used to intimidate me. I have so much more confidence in myself than I used to have, and am doing things I woulnd never have done ten or even five years ago. It's still a journey, but I am overcoming.

Back in high school, I was never the most confident person. Sure, I was outgoing, friendly, and wacky (still am!), but I never seemed to want to try new and challenging things. Today, I thrive on that: trying new things, things I never would have thought I'd do. This even applies to expanding what I eat. In the past two years I've tried all KINDS of new foods. Thai and Indian have are two of my faves (mmmm.... I can't believe waht I was missing!)

But more than that, it's been in the active stuff that I've felt this sense of overcoming. I was not in very good shape through high school. I hated PE, cause I was never very good at soccer, basketball, volleyball, etc etc etc, and having to play them with all the jocks - both guys and girls - jsut made me feel terrible! And the "fitness runs." UG. Terrible. They turned me off of running. Hate hate hate. This translated over to other things, too. I just didn't think I could do certain things.

Now I'm proving myself wrong, and I love it!

Take jogging, for example. I don't go that often now, but I go, and hey, it's not terrible. I remember totally amazing myself that I could jog for 24 mins without stopping, and still not be totally gasping and wheezing for air. I think maybe 5 was my high school record. High school fear: overcome.

Then there's me and my used-to-be picky picky eating. Just ask my parents. Eep. Well this July I went to a Sikh wedding, and I recall thinking as I was eating my meal that, hey, I didn't even know what half of the dishes they were serving were... if this were me a few years ago, I would have hardly eaten anything. But now? Who knows what this is... let's try it! Childhood picky-ness: overcome.

But I think the biggest things in my mind have been the Grouse Grind and Hiking Black Tusk. I took PE 12 Lifestyles, a course where we did all kinds of fun things like golf, rock climbing, snowshoeing, etc... not the typical sports stuff you'd normally do in a PE class. I enjoyed most of those activities, cuase I didn't feel like a complete doofus doing them. However, in the second half of the year, I couldn't take the course anymore because of a conflict with a different course I needed to graduate. I was secretly VERY happy about that, because the first outing of the second semester was doing the Grouse Grind (a 2.9 km/1.8 mi trail with an elevation gain of 853 m/2800 feet up the side of Grouse Mountain). High school self told me, "You could never do that." Well this June, I did. Twice. And I didn't even die! ;) I'm going to start going again regualraly once school gets back in, cause there are a few teachers from my school who go at least once a week. I'm even looking forward to it. High school fear: overcome.

And then there's Black Tusk. In high school, I was one of those nerdy, "I want to take every course possible" types (past tense here may be debatable!). I graduated with almost twice the minimum graduation credits I needed. I was kind of thinking about taking Geography 12, but it again conflicted with a different course I needed/wanted to take. I probably could have made it work, but one of the pretty-much-required parts of that class was a trip up Black Tusk. Packing up the gear. Camping in the snow. Climbing to the Tusk. (The tusk is an ancient volcanic structure - a perfect place for some hands on geography.) No WAY was I able to do that. I didn't take that course in part becuase of that trip. How sad.

Well this weekend I did it (minus the camping on the snow, though I did 'ski' part of the way down from the peak in my hiking boots on the remaining snowpack)! We hoofed our gear up, up, up, camped, and climbed the Tusk. Sixteen km (9.8 mi) up - then 16 down, and an elevation gain of 1710 m (5600 ft). High school fear: overcome.


I guess it kind of snuck up on me, and it's not a journey that is complete by any means, but boy, it feels good!

Variations on a theme

Sometimes things people say or phrases I hear just stick in my head... then, even months later, a little lightbulb goes on and I realize that they are all related. Hmm... could God be trying to tell me something?

1). Out for dinner with a friend, I was whining about my clunkermobile, and talking about how I wanted to buy a brand new car. He was trying to convince me that I wanted a newer, used car, and that I shouldn't buy new. I was adamant.

Well, I guess it just depends on what you want to spend your money on.

2.) Sitting around the table in the staffroom, I was talking religion with a man who had grown up Jewish and a woman who had grown up a strict Catholic - school with the nuns and everything. Neither really practice their religion now as adults. But we were talking about faith, and what impact that has on our life. The catholic woman was talking about how maybe really all faith is is something psychological to help get us through hard times. (I disagree totally, but that's a whole other post! :P). She just didn't seem satisfied with what faith/religion had given her.

There HAS to be more to life than this.

3.) I was listening to the local Christian radio station a while back, and they always have these little "inspiration moments," which I usually tune out (cause honestly, sometimes they're very cheesy) but this line stuck out:

What do you want your life to count for? How do you spend your money accordingly?

4.) One of the reasons I took a blogger break was because it was becoming too important to me. I was spending more time than what I was happy with browsing and writing and blog-fiddling. In the midst of me feeling bad about how much time I was spending online, a friend forwarded me an email that had the following quote at the bottom. Oof.

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives ~ Anne Dillard

5.) You know how the first song you hear in the morning is often the song that's stuck in your head all day long? Well a I was pondering all these thoughts, knowing that very soon I was going to have to sit down and take a good long and hard look at what I value, how I'm spending my time and money, and what changes I need to make to become the person I want to be, I heard a new Switchfoot song on the radio (hear a clip by clicking here and then clicking on "This is your life." "Meant to live" could also fit!)

This is your life, are you who you want to be? This is your life, is it everything you dreamed it would be?

I haven't been able to get this line out of my head for a couple of days now. It's time to spend some time listening to God and doing some thinking...

* what do I want my life to count for?
* who do I want to be?
* how do I want to spend my life, and so what do I need to do with my days and my money so that they match up?
* what do I need to do to work towards these goals?

Finally, I have the time to think. I hope I don't waste this opportunity.

Is it something that makes your life better?

Dang.

I hate it when I get asked a question that makes me have to face up to what I've known for a long time but had been trying to avoid.

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After church today, I was talking to Alfred, a friend/acquaintance from church. A few weeks ago I had come accross a blog written by a girl who goes to Regent College. As I was looking at her blog one day, I saw she had posted a picture of her and some friends down at the beach. I looked at the picture and saw Alfred! Crazy! It was one of those "small world" things, which I jsut thought was cool. Anyway, I saw Alfred today so thought I'd tell him that I had randomly come across his picture as I was blog surfing.

Of course, conversation lead to the question of how I found this girl's blog. So I started talking about Blog Explosion, surfing blogs to earn points which translates into traffic for your blog, etc etc etc. As I was exlpaining this, I was feeling embarassed about it, and if I'm honest with myself (ouch) it's because I spend far too much time doing this, and have been realizing over the past while that too much of my conversation and time is taken up by this silly piece of cyberspace. Me being the person I am (saying pretty much every thought that occurs to me out loud), I rolled my eyes and laughed, saying, "Oh, man, I'm SUCH a nerd!"

To which Alfred responded, "Well, is it something that makes your life better?"

"Well, er... it's kind of an online journal thingy...umm.... and friends look at it, thay can see what I've been up to... uh... and it's interesting getting people from all over the world looking at it..."

I don't know if I was convincing him. I wasn't convincing myself.

Our conversation moved on from there, but his question stuck in my head. Is the time I spend blogging something that makes my life better? Or am I doing it for other reasons?

I know some deeper reasons, which I'm not willing to go into here, yet (if I do at all). But what I will say is that I'm going to take a blogging break for a while. No checking stat counter, no blog surfing, and no more posts for a while. I have some thinking to do about why I'm doing this and if it's something I am doing to enrich my life, or to hide from it.

Ouch.

Feel free to keep leaving comments. I get those via email.

My head is a snow globe (aka An Explanation of Disappointment #1)

Like snowflakes in a snow globe, there are always lots of thoughts in my head, but sometimes life gives the ol' snow globe a bit of a shake and everything starts swirling around. In those times, it's hard to capture my thoughts clearly, because they haven't had a chance to settle. But after a while, the snowflakes come to rest again, and things become clearer. Nothing ever lands in exactly the same place, and so I'm never exactly the same person I was before. Hopefully I'm better, wiser, and have come to understand more about myself and about others through it. Well, some time has passed and the globe is a little clearer now. Here's a bit of the story of "disappointment #1" (see Questions or Showin' Me the Love for a bit of background) and hopefully a little of what I've learned through it.

About 6 weeks ago, I met a guy. I'll call him Mr BD. We hit it off pretty quickly, and started hanging out and talking on the phone a bunch. We weren't 'going out', just getting to know each other and enjoying each other's company. I was a little bit cautious at first, because I've had two "false starts," as I call them, in the last year that kinda flopped. By that I mean, that I met someone, read all the signals and got excited about what might happen, and they just didn't turn into anything. I wasn't heartbroken by any means, but it just made me more cautious about hitting it off right away with someone.

But, as I got to know Mr BD a little bit, I realized that none of what I was worried about was happening. It was nice, too, that we have mutual friends, cause all I ever heard (and continue to hear) about him is that he is SUCH a good guy. And I do agree. One of the things that caught my interest was that he has such a great heart, and really works at serving others. He's funny, warm, honest, and always treated me with respect. We seemed to have lots in common, and I was looking forward to getting to know him better and to hanging out with him, doing a whole bunch of the things we both like to do. I really liked him, and unless I am completely out to lunch on this, I know that the interest was mutual, at least on some level.

About three weeks after meeting him we were both wondering if we were going a little too fast, emotionally. His work was really intense, and he needed to focus on that, and for a number of very smart reasons, he told me that he felt we should back up a bit. His reasons and his approach to our friendship just made me respect him more, and I totally agreed with him. The only problem was that I don't think either of us knew what "taking a step back" looked like exactly, and I think for him it looked like a bigger step back than it did for me.

Long story short, last week he told me that he wanted to keep our relationship at the friendship level. I wasn't surprised, really, because since we had talked about slowing down, things had become very different - more distant, I guess. During that time, I was able to get some perspective, and there were a few minor things that I was wondering about as far as compatibility went. But, they were things that I was hoping to figure out as I got to know him. I was hoping to continue hanging out, and particularly get to know him once things had settled down for him at work when he wouldn't have to be expending so much energy and was not so tired. I was, of course, disappointed when he told me that he didn't want to go beyond friends.

In between the "step back" and the "just friends" conversations, I realized that a lot of what I was feeling for Mr BD was enthusiasm / excitement at a possibility. That's not to say that I didn't like him, because I did. But the way I was feeling didn't match the amount that I knew him. I was hoping to go slow, get to know him, and maybe start dating further down the road. So, needless to say, my analyzing "girl brain" kicked into overdrive after our "just friends" chat last weekend: Did I push too hard? Was God telling me "no" and I just didn't hear him? What is the lesson here? What about those first two weeks when he was very obviously interested, too? What were those about?

He gave me some reasons, kinda, when we talked, but they were sort of hazy. I mean, reasons or no reasons I can still accept it, but it sort of left me wondering. Now I in NO way feel led on. I'm guessing that, maybe, he got caught up in the possibility of something, and then realized that he wasn't as interested as he first thought. I don't believe at all that he was ever being insincere. Or maybe he just realized that he wasn't ready for a relationship? If so, fair enough. I don't totally understand where he was coming from, though regardless, the outcome is the same, and I will respect that. I am curious, though, as to his thought process through the whole thing, but that's a question that will most likely have to be left unanswered.

When all is said and done, even though I was disappointed, I will be (am?) fine. I still have the same respect for Mr BD that I did before, and I still think he's a great guy. I'm hoping that we can continue our friendship. I'm a pretty laid back person, and I don't think there will be any "weirdness" if we continue hanging out, at least on my end. The challenge is how to convey that to him without him thinking I'm trying to cling to him.

While I was hoping for something more, I'm also alright with the way things are. And whether our friendship ended last week or it will continue, I'm grateful for the time we got to spend together.

I'm sure there are more snowflakes that need to settle, but for now, this is how they've landed.

Questions

Why does God's voice always seem clearer to me after the fact?

Over the last year, it seems that only after something happens can I look back and go, "Ah, yes, God was telling me this or that." Is it because I'm not in the practice of hearing his voice? Or have I heard it and chosen not to listen? Either way, it sure would have saved me from some disappointing situations had I realized/listened. BUT, I'm constantly learning about God, about myself and about others through this crazy tragic, sometimes almost magic, awful beautiful life. I guess it's the "almost magic" part that's getting to me right now. For once I'd like it to just be magic. I'm getting awfully tired of the 'almost.'

Looks like I'm in for some more growing pains. It's better than staying the same, though, so I can deal with that.

Moving right along.....

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Ironic... I just found this series of pictures on The Reign Of Ellen. They seem verry fitting right now. :P

Invisibility and confusion

Well I had all these plans to get some stuff done today.... have I done anything? No! Ah, but Sundays are supposed to be a day of rest, right? (Hmm... don't know if my students will buy that excuse if I don't have their stuff marked. OK, so I have to do a LITTLE bit of work today).

I had an interesting experience at lunch today. I went to Reno's, a super swanky establishment of fine dining (HA! Try super duper sketchy greasy spoon), after church today with some folks from the young adult crowd. Most were fine, but I had a few moments that made me kinda sad. I'd start saying something, and I guess one girl just wasn't interested in what I was saying or something, cause she'd start talking over me, and then the conversation would kinda turn to whatever she was saying... it was weird. It was like I didn't exist! I'm pretty sure she didn't do it on purpose, but man, it's kinda odd to just have to trail off cause nobody's listening to what you were saying! I really felt like I was invisible. Oh well... things like that just make me more aware, I guess, so I can be sure not to do that to others!

I got home and have basically just been kicking around all evening... I talked to a friend of mine who just got back from Ireland. She's engaged!!!! I'm not surprised, I was fully expecting her to come back from this visit (her boy lives in Ireland) with a ring. But I'm kinda disappointed, cause she was telling me that they're going to get married in Hawaii in June, just the two of them and their parents. I dunno, I'm disappointed that none of our gang will be able to go to the wedding. She doesn't want a big deal, and doesn't want to plan it, and it's way cheaper to do it that way, but I can't help feeling kinda odd about it. I don't know. Is that selfish of me? Maybe it's just weird cause only three of us (us being our group of friends from university) have ever even met him, and all that was was a tour of a brewery and dinner. Maybe it's just that any of my other friends who've gotten married, I've known the spouses. I guess I'm concerned, partly, too, cause it seems to be a very independent relationship. They met while they were both traveling in Australia, so they don't really know eachother's friends (though she's been to Ireland twice now for visits) and they both don't really talk to their parents too much about stuff... It just seems that the choice of a marriage partner is a big decision, and it seems like, while obviously it's a choice that has to be made by the people involved (DUH!) there should be some kind of input from family and friends. I don't know. Maybe I'm way off. Even as I type that I'm second guessing myself. I don't know why I feel kinda weird about it. Don't get me wrong, I'm SOOO glad that she's happy, and I'm excited for her (even if it does mean that she's moving to Ireland for two years or so), but there's just something nagging at me. It seems like she's isolating herself from friends and her family, I don't know why. Again, maybe I"m way off base. I just love her so much, and want God's best for her! Arg! Why do things have to be so complicated?

What a difference a day makes!

YAY for Thursdays! Days like today, I can see myself at my school long term. I enjoy what I do, and while I'm not yet where I want to be (will I ever be there?) in terms of my teaching and all that, I can see how I've progressed, and also some steps to take to improve. I can see, too, how it would be so great to be at the school for a bunch'o'years and build up some consistency in the music program. Who knows. You can see just from the past week and a bit how different my thoughts are on my job! Maybe God will drop a big neon flashing sign in front of me saying "DO THIS".



Or maybe not.

Boats and other musings

Lately I've been reading a book called "If you want to walk on water you've got to get out of the boat." (ha ha) You know when you read something and it's just so bang on it's scary??? Yeah. Bingo. I really don't want my life to just drift by... go to work, come home, eat supper, watch TV, retire, and die. For a long time now, I've been thinking that I want to live on purpose, to live the crazy adventure God has up his sleeve for me. I read my friend Jamie's updates from YWAM, and SHE is living it... there are unknowns all over the place, and no guarantees, but man, does she live her life with a sense of purpose, and she has a wild ride doing it! So my big questions now, are, "what's my boat?" What is it that I'm not willing/afraid to give up in order to go where God's calling me? And WHERE is God calling me?

Here are some questions that Ortberg (the author) poses in chapter 2...
- What is my deepest dream?
- How much passion do I experience in my daily life?
- What do I want my epitaph to say?
- How much am I growing these days?
- How often do I take risks that require a power greater than my own?
- If I had to name the "one true thing" that I believe I was set on this earth to do, what would it be?
- How clear is it to me?

I guess part of this all stems from the fact that I don't know if I want to stay in teaching. There are lots of things that I like about it, but I dunno... maybe I'm lazy or something, but I don't think I want a career that eats up so much of my life. Of course, that leaves me wondering, "now what???"

So, yeah. That's what I'm thinking about these days... I'm sure more questions will come as I read more of the book and keep thinking about where I want (or rather, where GOD wants) my life to be headed!