Many of you wouldn't know this but I just arrived home yesterday afternoon after a 4 day trip supporting people I work with at the cottage (I had Wally post several posts I wrote last weekend).
I am a bag of thoughtful emotions mixed with a profound need for rest before being thrown back into the sea of life.
I'm not sure what exactly to post about: my most recent trip, my further learnings while on the trip, or my newly found realizations regarding the 'accepting the unacceptable' that have occurred even since I wrote my last post a few days ago.
Maybe I'll talk about something entirely different.
How about my overall time during the past couple of weeks?
It's so hard to put into words how much I feel I have been able to discover about different areas of my life with just a simple schedule change. Obviously a solid week off was needed, though to be honest I'm not sure of how rested, in a physical sense, I got. I certainly enjoyed a mental, emotional and physical change from my regular day to day job and pace of life.
I can't even tell you how alive I have felt spending a much larger amount of my time in 'nature' during this change. I honestly felt a connection, if you will, with my Maker (or Papa, as I like to call Him).
Wally got the DVD set called 'Life' for graduation from my parents and we've been watching it in our off time lately. It's a documentary series just about different mammals, fish, birds, etc. Probably sounds boring but I seriously recommend it!! We have found it really fascinating (watch the version with the English guy narrating instead of Oprah). It's amazing how funny it can be.
As I've mentioned I don't like to preach or anything but I have to say nothing has spoken to me more lately than (what I refer to as) creation around me. I've said to Wally numerous times throughout watching 'Life' that the more I see the more I am reminded that it is absolutely impossible we just came to be - nature is so freaking creative, intelligent and beautiful that it couldn't have just happened. To me it is further evidence that God (or whatever you want to call Him) exists and is just an amazing artist and inventor. I have also said many times that I can see why people believe we evolved as many of the creatures featured on the DVD set are so interestingly put together (fish with wings and mammals that live in water). To me this is proof that God is creative and has very original ideas. He's a forward, humourous, and 'out side of the box' thinker, unlike many of his human creations.
By the way, when I say I don't believe we evolved I mean it in the sense of being formed out of frogs, I am accepting of the fact that over time humans in general have changed a great deal as the environment has changed. And even if we did end up 'evolving' it doesn't change the faith I have or in the One I have it in. The state of the world and the reaction of it's Maker (in my opinion) speaks for itself. God's display of love is proof that we are here for more than just 'getting by'. Of course, once again, this is just my opinion.
During my recent trip away I was (and I often hate using this over used word but it seems appropriate here)so blessed to get a front row seat in nature. For our cottage trip we went to a farm that included it's own petting zoo, wheelchair accessible pathways throughout the farm and into the woods and fields, and acres filled with horses and horses.
It's funny, I've never felt an overly large amount of appreciation of horses. In fact beyond that, I've never really felt a thing for horses. I have never understood people that did. To me they always seems big and scary, silent and secretive. All qualities that remind me of managerial types - too scary for me.
However, this week while I wandered about during my hour before my day started I used it to peruse the grounds and I came to really be astounded by these animals. They are so ... amazing and ... well amazing.
I got up the first day around 5am (I blame the sun). I managed to keep myself in bed reading for the first hour then I couldn't take it any more and I got out to explore the grounds. This little affair continued throughout the week, however I did manage to sleep in an extra hour each day after this.
The first thing I have to say is I am so thankful I am such a morning person. So thankful. Everything, and I mean everything, was so much more beautiful in the morning time. I'm not sure why. If it was the angle of the sun, the fresh newness of the day, or the fact that there was no one else out there to interrupt my thoughts. Whatever it was I fell completely in love with it and even on the last day when I was tempted to stay in my bed (by then I was completely exhausted) I couldn't bare to miss my morning rendez vous with my new love.
I got some pretty great pictures, unfortunately the only morning ones are on my cell phone and I don't know how to get them onto here and that was the only time in the day I didn't bring my camera with me. It sort of felt wrong to bring it along as I was a little fearful it would interrupt the level of intimacy I felt I had. I did my best to burn the morning images in my head and soak in every site there was.
One morning I decided to venture out and complete one of the numbers on my more recent 'forty things' list and go for my first jog. Only in these surroundings could I muster up the willingness to try this.
It was my second day and the evening before I had taken the guy I was there supporting out for a walk. For some reason despite my fatigue I felt the need to pump up my walk with a jog while taking him out. Since his walk was slower than mine I thought I'd jog (generally in circles) around him to see how I would do. It wasn't bad. So when I awoke on day two I was determined to give this jogging thing a whirl.
Within a minute after starting I heard my muscles audibly say 'What the hell do you think you are doing? We'll pay you back for this!' They were being rather rude about the whole thing.
No less rude were the two donkeys I passed early on in their stables. As I jogged by I saw not one but two of them pointing their heads out of the doorway peering at me. The looks on their faces spoke clearly and loudly at me saying 'Hmph, who's the dumb ass now?' For that very reason they weren't my favourites.
I managed to continue my physical and spiritual trek for about forty five minutes. Well, off and on. I would jog for a few minutes then walk for a few, then jog for a few minutes and walk for a few more. By the end I felt great in more ways than one (this would change the next morning when I tried the jogging thing again and my muscles had decided to trade in their voices for the silent treatment, which in turn resulted in them taking advantage of my pain receptors instead).
One of my favourite places to go was along a pathway near a field that lead me into what I referred to as a sanctuary in the middle of a strip of trees. The first time I stumbled upon it I was in awe. It was a large shelter (like the ones you see in a park with picnic tables under them) with rows of wooden benches (with backs too!) all facing one direction and then facing them was a small single backless bench (he seemed like the preacher type). All of this surrounded by trees!!! It was incredible.
I honestly wondered if it was made to have old fashioned church in, followed by a picnic with fried chicken and macaroni salad every Sunday (of course if I were there I'd eat grilled skinless chicken and roasted vegetables instead ... well most of the time).
During my run I decided to stop and absorb my surroundings for a few minutes. I turned off my MP3 player and just be silent. It was amazing. Did I mention that?
Once again I was able to see the glimmers of sunshine peaking through the woods. Once again it felt like God smiling at me while reaching down and patting me on the shoulder.
As I traveled on I came to the end of the pathway and was met by a fence. Beyond it was a beautiful neighbouring property with a small lake with water being sprayed about all fountain like in the middle. The landscape was gorgeous and filled with flowers and immaculately kept green grass. The fence however held a sign that told me I was on candid camera (well, not quite, more of the surveillance type). All of a sudden I was no longer an invited guest, so I took my party else where.
On my way back down the path I met a large bench that asked me to employ it in memory of a 'Mr.T.', apparently an 'inspiration to all'. So I obeyed and paid homage (is that the right word?) to Mr. T. and wondered who he was and what his story might be. I looked out onto the field in front of the bench and enjoyed the sun that had awakened only an hour or so before that.
I bathed in it a while (which was about the only bathing I got that week) then moved on.
Next I purposefully walked down a few gravel pathways. I've mentioned quite awhile ago how much I LOVE walking on gravel roads. I have no idea why or what is up with how I am so turned on my hearing the raw crunch beneath my feet but the sound takes me away. Honestly I wouldn't care if I ever walked on a strip of pavement again.
On my journey back to my temporary home I visited my new found friends who greet me with their presence by the cruel electric fence. They stared at me in the eyes and seem to know I am a stranger to their kind. I talked to them and looked at them with continued awe. I could tell they felt bad that I didn't fully understand them. I found enough courage to pet their faces and explore them close up. Well for a few seconds. They are incredible.
Finally I peeled myself away and forced myself to return to the cottage (which is really a regular house with all of the great conveniences). I prayed that I would find what I needed to get through the day, hopefully able to give my best.
You can probably understand why, to some degree, I dread recommencing with normal life.
When I got home after my cottage venture I had 17 e-mails in my work account alone. (During my week off I had accumulated 27). I knew I couldn't avoid them forever so last night I did my best to get through them and respond to what was needed. This was a quick reminder as to what I am diving back into.
*Deep breath*
At first sight of normal life I am inclined to dig a hole, hop in and hibernate. It'd be much more comfortable I think. But also rather selfish as well.
I feel as though I've been given a challenge: to take this new love with me. To find away to take time each day to 'recharge' to 'reconnect' to the one who gives life. As you know I'm up for nearly any challenge (at least to give it my best shot), but this seems big.
I feel like I'm being asked to take something as sensitive as a flame into hurricane forced winds. Not only that but with the expectation to keep the little flame lit.
This seems like a tall order.
A big fat, yet healthy, tall order.
I'm not sure at this point how I'm going to do this. If you have any great ideas please share.
I do know though that I am sure as heck going to try.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Accepting the Unacceptable
I've been harping on this acceptance thing for a while now.
My last post was actually intended to be this one but I guess because of all of the mommy talk I felt the need share a successful story of acceptance rather than the unsuccessful story I am struggling with right now.
I mentioned the conversation Dee had with me a while back regarding the fact that I needed to accept the fact that living this healthy life style (i.e. exercise and good eating) was permanent (that is if I wanted to keep my new relatively fit body I was and am still working on).
At the time when he said 'You haven't accepted this yet. You are still looking for easier ways to get to where you want to be. There are no easier ways - ACCEPT IT!!'
Since then several weeks have passed by and I had felt that I was doing better with this 'acceptance' thing. I was doing my own research, buying ingredients I'd never heard tell of before, getting more than my prescribed amount of exercise, I was doing great ... I thought. Until I chatted with Dee last week...
He was all fired up it seemed as we talked, he once again announced that he was really scared that I was not ready to do this thing on my own. 'You still haven't accepted it. I am so worried you are going to fall back into your old ways. Look at how far you've come and the results you've gotten, you can't even see it! You need to realize that you've made progress and changed so much of your life and stop seeing yourself as not good enough!'.
I looked at him in disbelief. I didn't understand. I had made all of these changes this was true. He was right about me not really seeing the magnitude of my results, but what does that matter? I was expecting to have lost my dream goal weight in the first twelve weeks and because I didn't see that I missed the bigger picture of my muscle growth, my strength increase and my overall change in health and lifestyle. I have done well. But in my head I always add 'But I could've done better' and 'I still have a long way to go'. Apparently these aren't things a healthy minded individual should be saying.
I have begged Dee to tell me how to 'Accept', I've asked him over and over what I need to do differently, how I can change my thinking because I desperately want a healthy mind about this just as much as a healthy body.
He tells me he can't answer this for me, that I have to figure it out.
The other night in a text conversation when I had finally had a huge 'light bulb moment' and realized that Dee was right, I have yet to accept this new life and the progress I've made, Dee gave it to me straight. He said either you do the work or you don't. He told me that I could quit like most people or I could go after what I wanted, it was as simple as that.
His words stung but he was right.
Let me back track a bit to how I finally figured out I had not yet accepted the healthy life...
Wally and I were coming home from Persian love fest 2010 and I suggested we get a double chocolate chip frappuccino from Starbucks (because you know, that's clean eating). I was getting crazy about it, ready to hold him up with ... well I had nothing to threaten with but my bare hands, they would work.
I later suggested we go out for lunch on the way home as well. We did neither and by the time we were home I'd convinced myself that I didn't need to do either unjust act to my body and I was ready to make a 'clean' meal for our lunch.
Then I got struck out of no where by an acceptance lightning bolt.
I realized what Dee meant. He was right. I was/am still looking for ways to beat the system of the cheat meal (by, you know, making it a cheat day, or substituting my cheat drink for the other half of the cheat cake I was having for my cheat dessert). I am still looking for ways to cheat 'clean' living. And I was most certainly not accepting this whole system of eating right and exercise for life, evidenced by more 'one last whatevers' than any death row prisoner could ever dream of!
If every 'one last' snack, treat, or greasy meal I've had in the past couple of years was counted up there would likely be enough food to feed a small village for a year - of course they probably wouldn't live through the first six months as they would all have heart attacks and die, but you get the idea.
I am the queen of 'Tomorrow I'll start'. Even in my blog description I believe I state that 'Mondays are never far away'. If that doesn't spell denial I don't know what does.
Now I sit here with frustration mixed with determination to overcome this incredible life long battle filled with misbeliefs, disbeliefs, confusion and defeated spirit over and over again.
I am so fired up and so determined that I don't care if it takes me the rest of my life, I am tired of food controlling my happiness. I'm tired of food being the highlight of my day and the excitement of my tomorrow. I desperately want to be free. I think more than anything else I just want to be free from food guiding me around like I'm a lovesick puppy dog and giving me nothing but sadness in the end.
I think often my negative self image gets mixed up with my lust for food and how I use it to feed my soul. Yes I want to look good (and it's a challenge when my eyes seem to have blurred vision - figuratively speaking, I guess literally too). I want a healthy body too. But most of all I think I am desperately searching for a healthy soul free from the torment of food. Food is a gift to be enjoyed not to feel guilty over.
Wow. I feel pretty naked and ugly right now. I sound so terrible. But, at the same time this is truly me. These are my struggles, uglies and all. Sorry, should have warned you.
At the end of my text conversation with Dee the other day, in my duress I told him I just didn't want to be a 'fake wannabe'.
To which he replied 'You are as real as it gets'.
Sometimes I wonder if my 'realness' is a good thing. But like or not I am and I can only hope that through this openess to face my uglies I can grow into something more beautiful - inside and out.
Or perhaps just begin to believe what's already there.
By the way, I plan on indeed starting another blog to help me work this healthy stuff out. Truly it's for me but if you want a front row seat to me in the process of 'accepting' feel free to sit and watch ... or read. I'm sure it'll be entertaining.
My last post was actually intended to be this one but I guess because of all of the mommy talk I felt the need share a successful story of acceptance rather than the unsuccessful story I am struggling with right now.
I mentioned the conversation Dee had with me a while back regarding the fact that I needed to accept the fact that living this healthy life style (i.e. exercise and good eating) was permanent (that is if I wanted to keep my new relatively fit body I was and am still working on).
At the time when he said 'You haven't accepted this yet. You are still looking for easier ways to get to where you want to be. There are no easier ways - ACCEPT IT!!'
Since then several weeks have passed by and I had felt that I was doing better with this 'acceptance' thing. I was doing my own research, buying ingredients I'd never heard tell of before, getting more than my prescribed amount of exercise, I was doing great ... I thought. Until I chatted with Dee last week...
He was all fired up it seemed as we talked, he once again announced that he was really scared that I was not ready to do this thing on my own. 'You still haven't accepted it. I am so worried you are going to fall back into your old ways. Look at how far you've come and the results you've gotten, you can't even see it! You need to realize that you've made progress and changed so much of your life and stop seeing yourself as not good enough!'.
I looked at him in disbelief. I didn't understand. I had made all of these changes this was true. He was right about me not really seeing the magnitude of my results, but what does that matter? I was expecting to have lost my dream goal weight in the first twelve weeks and because I didn't see that I missed the bigger picture of my muscle growth, my strength increase and my overall change in health and lifestyle. I have done well. But in my head I always add 'But I could've done better' and 'I still have a long way to go'. Apparently these aren't things a healthy minded individual should be saying.
I have begged Dee to tell me how to 'Accept', I've asked him over and over what I need to do differently, how I can change my thinking because I desperately want a healthy mind about this just as much as a healthy body.
He tells me he can't answer this for me, that I have to figure it out.
The other night in a text conversation when I had finally had a huge 'light bulb moment' and realized that Dee was right, I have yet to accept this new life and the progress I've made, Dee gave it to me straight. He said either you do the work or you don't. He told me that I could quit like most people or I could go after what I wanted, it was as simple as that.
His words stung but he was right.
Let me back track a bit to how I finally figured out I had not yet accepted the healthy life...
Wally and I were coming home from Persian love fest 2010 and I suggested we get a double chocolate chip frappuccino from Starbucks (because you know, that's clean eating). I was getting crazy about it, ready to hold him up with ... well I had nothing to threaten with but my bare hands, they would work.
I later suggested we go out for lunch on the way home as well. We did neither and by the time we were home I'd convinced myself that I didn't need to do either unjust act to my body and I was ready to make a 'clean' meal for our lunch.
Then I got struck out of no where by an acceptance lightning bolt.
I realized what Dee meant. He was right. I was/am still looking for ways to beat the system of the cheat meal (by, you know, making it a cheat day, or substituting my cheat drink for the other half of the cheat cake I was having for my cheat dessert). I am still looking for ways to cheat 'clean' living. And I was most certainly not accepting this whole system of eating right and exercise for life, evidenced by more 'one last whatevers' than any death row prisoner could ever dream of!
If every 'one last' snack, treat, or greasy meal I've had in the past couple of years was counted up there would likely be enough food to feed a small village for a year - of course they probably wouldn't live through the first six months as they would all have heart attacks and die, but you get the idea.
I am the queen of 'Tomorrow I'll start'. Even in my blog description I believe I state that 'Mondays are never far away'. If that doesn't spell denial I don't know what does.
Now I sit here with frustration mixed with determination to overcome this incredible life long battle filled with misbeliefs, disbeliefs, confusion and defeated spirit over and over again.
I am so fired up and so determined that I don't care if it takes me the rest of my life, I am tired of food controlling my happiness. I'm tired of food being the highlight of my day and the excitement of my tomorrow. I desperately want to be free. I think more than anything else I just want to be free from food guiding me around like I'm a lovesick puppy dog and giving me nothing but sadness in the end.
I think often my negative self image gets mixed up with my lust for food and how I use it to feed my soul. Yes I want to look good (and it's a challenge when my eyes seem to have blurred vision - figuratively speaking, I guess literally too). I want a healthy body too. But most of all I think I am desperately searching for a healthy soul free from the torment of food. Food is a gift to be enjoyed not to feel guilty over.
Wow. I feel pretty naked and ugly right now. I sound so terrible. But, at the same time this is truly me. These are my struggles, uglies and all. Sorry, should have warned you.
At the end of my text conversation with Dee the other day, in my duress I told him I just didn't want to be a 'fake wannabe'.
To which he replied 'You are as real as it gets'.
Sometimes I wonder if my 'realness' is a good thing. But like or not I am and I can only hope that through this openess to face my uglies I can grow into something more beautiful - inside and out.
Or perhaps just begin to believe what's already there.
By the way, I plan on indeed starting another blog to help me work this healthy stuff out. Truly it's for me but if you want a front row seat to me in the process of 'accepting' feel free to sit and watch ... or read. I'm sure it'll be entertaining.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Party Like I'm Persian - I want their confidence!
Wally and I got invited to go to my best friend from junior high/high school's wedding reception.
I was very excited to reconnect with her a couple of years ago at her last bridal shower. (She was supposed to get married before but she called it off a couple of weeks before the wedding). We've always had a sort of 'kindred' spirit thing. Though we have little in common now and have had very different life experiences since high school, there will always be a part of my heart that she will hold.
We both went through public school getting teased for our weight. I have no idea why she ever was because she really wasn't fat at all. Anyways she's someone that I went through all of those awkward uncomfortable formidable years with. We know far too many deep dark secrets about eachother to become enemies.
Candy got married in Cuba several weeks ago (and by the way still made it to our big party two weeks before their nuptials which was surprising and cool), and they were having a reception here in Canada to celebrate with all the friends and family that weren't there (and of course with some who were).
The location was a couple of hours away in a much larger city than where we live but Wally and I met on my way home from my retreat in the town we works in and zoomed off when he was done for the day.
It was a tense ride as it was rush hour on a Friday evening and things periodically got tense. Thus the reason for us not stretching our traveling muscles early in our marriage - we are getting better and better all of the time. We arrived with extra time to check into our hotel before going off to the party.
We arrived perfectly on time, along with many of the other Caucasian guests. After talking with Candy once we got there she informed us that many of the rest of the guests (who were Persian as Candy's new husband is from Iran) would likely arrive a couple of hours behind schedule.
Hmmmmm ... I hadn't thought of what the reception would be like with 50% of it not originating from well ... non Persia. (In the end I think 80% of the guests were Persian).
We mingled a bit with Candy's parents who had divorced since our friendship years and her little sister who I'll always remember sat on the toilet after dinner (as I pretty much lived there growing up) every night while eating her ice cream for dessert. We joked about that.
Wally and I didn't really know anyone. Candy's Nana had passed away a few months earlier (which was sad - she was so fun, one year she knitted me neon yellow mittens for Christmas and told me I'd better like them because she had to wear sunglasses while knitting them since they were so bright).
I wasn't terribly bothered by our loneliness as it gave us time to chat. I was lucky enough to get a few pictures with Candy before the crowd blew in. We chatted a bit and caught up on a few little things that had happened since the party.
She looked beautiful by the way. In a white satin mermaid dress with rhinestones on the bodice and little left to the imagination in other areas. I honestly spent a large chunk of the evening wondering what the underwear situation was underneath her little number. At one point Candy myself and a couple of her other friends were chatting and she said she thought she could wear her dress for other occasions. I said 'Yeah of course you can wear it again ... later.'
She said 'Yeah, that's what I said, like to ... blah, blah, blah'
I said 'No Candy I mean you can WEAR. IT. AGAIN. LA-TER.' *cleared throat, pulled up some eyelid*
She looked at me in shock 'What?!'
I replied 'You know ... LA-TER.'
I'm not sure we were on the same page.
Anyhoo, a bit later in the evening I was excited to be greeted by Sasha (the old friend from high school I visited with the two little guys). I was so excited to see her there. We got a couple of pictures and chatted it up.
Sasha (I believe) is a fairly regular blog reader, so as we were finally getting our meal (at 9:15ish) she asked if what we were having was a part of my 'eat clean' diet. At that point I wondered how wise it was that I made public this information - cheating is not made easy.
As the night drew on I quickly learned that the predominant presence at this party was indeed Persian and it reflected in everything we did. From the menu (meat, meat, meat and oh a little more meat - I liked these people), to the music (did you know there's Persian techno music?! I'm so sheltered), to the 'dancing of the knife' escapade (I'm not sure what it means but people take turns dancing all Persian like around and sort of teasing the bride and groom with it by handing it over but not giving it to them then dancin' some more and on and on until finally they give it over. Not my favourite part as I was thinking the whole time 'if they give me the dang knife I swear I'm going to toss it at Candy and said cut the damn cake so I can cheat already!!').
I learned a lot that night.
Most of it had to do with the dancing though.
First off I have to say I was really tired and later disappointed at this tiredness because I wasn't my usual dance-o-matic self. At my party I barely stopped all night and I had guests comment about it when I saw them after the party. I just think dancing is an amazing way to release and remind yourself to not take life so seriously.
I had a beer in hopes that it'd loosen my reigns a bit but no luck, I was really still tired from the retreat.
Also I feel as though getting to the point of really good dancing is kind of like the build up in sex. It takes some build up. I mean you need to be in the mood, have the right atmosphere, and a willing party. I wasn't feelin' it as much as I'd liked to.
I have to be honest, just as I felt like I was getting into the music it would change into the Persian techno I was telling you about, which was admittedly foreign to me. I guess it wouldn't have mattered so much had I had the Persian moves. I'm telling you those people have a way with their hips. And let me tell you, I had no idea wrists could look so sensual.
I definitely learned that there is a Persian way of dance. And that I admired them for it.
I loved that no matter the age or gender people all around were up and moving. Celebrating required dancing. Unlike North American white people who, as Sasha pointed out, generally just need some good unhealthy food to 'get down' to.
Now that I think of it I may not have been in the mood for dancing because I was too busy observing (I love observing).
I watched a couple dancing together and it appeared to be a conversation their bodies were having rather than a dance routine. Wally also pointed out a couple of woman who were 'gettin' down' that almost looked like they were having a face off. I think I've seen this on like the Discovery channel before on a documentary with birds or something. It's all very interesting.
I loved that there were a couple of little girls probably around 6 and 8 that were right in there with their circular wrist movements to match their hips.
I loved too that the people seemed to embrace the clearly Caucasian jerky tries at the smooth Iranian dance. Man white people are so crude, clearly myself included.
Oh something else I cannot forget to mention was the attire.
Oh man, the attire. These people totally dressed up. And the ladies had confidence. By that of course I mean they wore clothes I'd wait a lifetime to feel comfortable in.
The standard dress was cut above the knee, fitting tight enough to closely hug every visible curve (and perhaps a couple that weren't supposed to be), and often layered so that when they danced the material may rise and fall.
I loved that these woman weren't perfect. They weren't fat or anything but they weren't walking sticks, and they weren't ashamed of their curvaceous bods. Did I mention they had booty in the back?
I got thinking as the night went on about my own self image issues. Wow, I need to get over myself.
Now I've admitted this before and am completely aware of these issues and am truly trying to work on it. It's really not an easy task for me.
But I have to say I think the best medicine for me was seeing women who were completely comfortable in their skin (and covered up at the same time, well, for the most part), that didn't have stickly model bodies. I love it!
I told Wally on the way home that I wanted Persian confidence. I'm not sure exactly where you can pick that up but when I find out I'm gonna get me some.
Maybe I need to give myself an assignment that will help me grow into some more body confidence. Heck, confidence itself is great too. Of course I have definitely developed this in leaps and bounds in the past few years.
Someday I plan on partying like I'm Persian and you will see me doing the knife dance like it's nobody's business.
Of course it'll be the white girl's less classy version.
But that's ok.
I was very excited to reconnect with her a couple of years ago at her last bridal shower. (She was supposed to get married before but she called it off a couple of weeks before the wedding). We've always had a sort of 'kindred' spirit thing. Though we have little in common now and have had very different life experiences since high school, there will always be a part of my heart that she will hold.
We both went through public school getting teased for our weight. I have no idea why she ever was because she really wasn't fat at all. Anyways she's someone that I went through all of those awkward uncomfortable formidable years with. We know far too many deep dark secrets about eachother to become enemies.
Candy got married in Cuba several weeks ago (and by the way still made it to our big party two weeks before their nuptials which was surprising and cool), and they were having a reception here in Canada to celebrate with all the friends and family that weren't there (and of course with some who were).
The location was a couple of hours away in a much larger city than where we live but Wally and I met on my way home from my retreat in the town we works in and zoomed off when he was done for the day.
It was a tense ride as it was rush hour on a Friday evening and things periodically got tense. Thus the reason for us not stretching our traveling muscles early in our marriage - we are getting better and better all of the time. We arrived with extra time to check into our hotel before going off to the party.
We arrived perfectly on time, along with many of the other Caucasian guests. After talking with Candy once we got there she informed us that many of the rest of the guests (who were Persian as Candy's new husband is from Iran) would likely arrive a couple of hours behind schedule.
Hmmmmm ... I hadn't thought of what the reception would be like with 50% of it not originating from well ... non Persia. (In the end I think 80% of the guests were Persian).
We mingled a bit with Candy's parents who had divorced since our friendship years and her little sister who I'll always remember sat on the toilet after dinner (as I pretty much lived there growing up) every night while eating her ice cream for dessert. We joked about that.
Wally and I didn't really know anyone. Candy's Nana had passed away a few months earlier (which was sad - she was so fun, one year she knitted me neon yellow mittens for Christmas and told me I'd better like them because she had to wear sunglasses while knitting them since they were so bright).
I wasn't terribly bothered by our loneliness as it gave us time to chat. I was lucky enough to get a few pictures with Candy before the crowd blew in. We chatted a bit and caught up on a few little things that had happened since the party.
She looked beautiful by the way. In a white satin mermaid dress with rhinestones on the bodice and little left to the imagination in other areas. I honestly spent a large chunk of the evening wondering what the underwear situation was underneath her little number. At one point Candy myself and a couple of her other friends were chatting and she said she thought she could wear her dress for other occasions. I said 'Yeah of course you can wear it again ... later.'
She said 'Yeah, that's what I said, like to ... blah, blah, blah'
I said 'No Candy I mean you can WEAR. IT. AGAIN. LA-TER.' *cleared throat, pulled up some eyelid*
She looked at me in shock 'What?!'
I replied 'You know ... LA-TER.'
I'm not sure we were on the same page.
Anyhoo, a bit later in the evening I was excited to be greeted by Sasha (the old friend from high school I visited with the two little guys). I was so excited to see her there. We got a couple of pictures and chatted it up.
Sasha (I believe) is a fairly regular blog reader, so as we were finally getting our meal (at 9:15ish) she asked if what we were having was a part of my 'eat clean' diet. At that point I wondered how wise it was that I made public this information - cheating is not made easy.
As the night drew on I quickly learned that the predominant presence at this party was indeed Persian and it reflected in everything we did. From the menu (meat, meat, meat and oh a little more meat - I liked these people), to the music (did you know there's Persian techno music?! I'm so sheltered), to the 'dancing of the knife' escapade (I'm not sure what it means but people take turns dancing all Persian like around and sort of teasing the bride and groom with it by handing it over but not giving it to them then dancin' some more and on and on until finally they give it over. Not my favourite part as I was thinking the whole time 'if they give me the dang knife I swear I'm going to toss it at Candy and said cut the damn cake so I can cheat already!!').
I learned a lot that night.
Most of it had to do with the dancing though.
First off I have to say I was really tired and later disappointed at this tiredness because I wasn't my usual dance-o-matic self. At my party I barely stopped all night and I had guests comment about it when I saw them after the party. I just think dancing is an amazing way to release and remind yourself to not take life so seriously.
I had a beer in hopes that it'd loosen my reigns a bit but no luck, I was really still tired from the retreat.
Also I feel as though getting to the point of really good dancing is kind of like the build up in sex. It takes some build up. I mean you need to be in the mood, have the right atmosphere, and a willing party. I wasn't feelin' it as much as I'd liked to.
I have to be honest, just as I felt like I was getting into the music it would change into the Persian techno I was telling you about, which was admittedly foreign to me. I guess it wouldn't have mattered so much had I had the Persian moves. I'm telling you those people have a way with their hips. And let me tell you, I had no idea wrists could look so sensual.
I definitely learned that there is a Persian way of dance. And that I admired them for it.
I loved that no matter the age or gender people all around were up and moving. Celebrating required dancing. Unlike North American white people who, as Sasha pointed out, generally just need some good unhealthy food to 'get down' to.
Now that I think of it I may not have been in the mood for dancing because I was too busy observing (I love observing).
I watched a couple dancing together and it appeared to be a conversation their bodies were having rather than a dance routine. Wally also pointed out a couple of woman who were 'gettin' down' that almost looked like they were having a face off. I think I've seen this on like the Discovery channel before on a documentary with birds or something. It's all very interesting.
I loved that there were a couple of little girls probably around 6 and 8 that were right in there with their circular wrist movements to match their hips.
I loved too that the people seemed to embrace the clearly Caucasian jerky tries at the smooth Iranian dance. Man white people are so crude, clearly myself included.
Oh something else I cannot forget to mention was the attire.
Oh man, the attire. These people totally dressed up. And the ladies had confidence. By that of course I mean they wore clothes I'd wait a lifetime to feel comfortable in.
The standard dress was cut above the knee, fitting tight enough to closely hug every visible curve (and perhaps a couple that weren't supposed to be), and often layered so that when they danced the material may rise and fall.
I loved that these woman weren't perfect. They weren't fat or anything but they weren't walking sticks, and they weren't ashamed of their curvaceous bods. Did I mention they had booty in the back?
I got thinking as the night went on about my own self image issues. Wow, I need to get over myself.
Now I've admitted this before and am completely aware of these issues and am truly trying to work on it. It's really not an easy task for me.
But I have to say I think the best medicine for me was seeing women who were completely comfortable in their skin (and covered up at the same time, well, for the most part), that didn't have stickly model bodies. I love it!
I told Wally on the way home that I wanted Persian confidence. I'm not sure exactly where you can pick that up but when I find out I'm gonna get me some.
Maybe I need to give myself an assignment that will help me grow into some more body confidence. Heck, confidence itself is great too. Of course I have definitely developed this in leaps and bounds in the past few years.
Someday I plan on partying like I'm Persian and you will see me doing the knife dance like it's nobody's business.
Of course it'll be the white girl's less classy version.
But that's ok.
Accepting Mamahood
I think I've been talking a lot about this lately. I don't remember if I've been blogging about it as much as I've been thinking, thinking, thinking about it but acceptance is what this post is all about.
During my retreat I finally came to the realization that God (or however you feel comfortable taking it) has indeed 'called' me to be a mother.
How is this different than me choosing to be a mother?
Well, as humans we all have the opportunity to have children (whether biologically, adoptively, or spiritually). You do not need to physically give birth, go through lawyers and paperwork, or be given permission by someone to take on the responsibility of helping someone grow as a human being. At any given time you can develop a bond with another person and take on a parenting role which provides the necessities of life.
As I've mentioned before I've always felt the desire to be a mother. No doubt much of it came from the natural womanly instinct to do so. I think that many of us come pre-programmed to naturally want this, it is pretty much all over our bodies.
However somewhere along the road (I've mentioned how) this changed for me and the fear of child rearing overcame any sense I had to step into the realm of procreation.
The fact that I am not a fairytale thinker makes the image of having children even less appealing.
I once loved the idea of becoming a mommy because it meant someone (in the ideal situation) would love me, someone would need me, I would get to stay home and be all Martha Stewarty (though after her stint in prison doesn't sound all that positive), ultimately I would get make and be someone's world. For some reason this idea appealed to me (in this moment I can't for the life of me figure out why).
Once reality hit I woke up and saw what motherhood was really like and the pendulum swung in the opposite direction.
Then when I thought of mother hood I thought of all of the same things that I mentioned earlier but in a different light. Someone would love me - now meaning I could hurt them when I screwed up or was absent. Someone would need me - therefore being absent wasn't really an option (at least not if you wanted to be a good parent). I would get to stay home all day - like Martha Stewart, be imprisoned and never get to leave.
Suddenly my perspective changed. All the things I once saw as the reasons to become a mother quickly became my reasons NOT to become a mother. Thus putting me in a rather difficult position. To make a choice.
I have had several conversations with people (predominantly mothers) about this topic and have not had one of them give me a straight answer.
I've heard 'You'll know when you know' (Great, thanks I'll keep waiting then for the lightning bolt and pray it doesn't hit when I'm 75). I've also heard 'Some people are meant to have kids and some aren't' (Ok so it that a hint?). Then there's been the 'You're never ready to have kids, just do it!' (Alright, so I shouldn't finish college first?). And then there's 'If you aren't positive DON'T do it because once they are here they are here' (so I'm off the hook then?). And I can't leave out the 'You're only 30 don't worry about it now!' (Yeah I get that but I also know first hand that once I'm 35 things change a lot in regards to pregnancy and adoption itself does not happen overnight).
None of these responses ever made me feel closer to knowing what to do. I mean Wally and I did give the natural thing a chance for a little while so it's not like we had been completely closed to the idea but now that we feel that the ball is entirely in our court knowing what to do is more difficult. Do you go ahead and adopt? Do you take this thing as a sign that you are 'off the hook' for the parent thing and breathe a huge sigh of relief? Or do you forge ahead because society expects every household with a thirty something couple to have two kids and a couple of pets?
No answers were coming to me.
A couple of months ago when I was maxed out with stress I e-mailed a friend of mine about my stress dilemma compounded with Wally showing the beginnings of wanting a family. Suddenly the tables were turning and Wally was the one ready for kids and I was finally preparing myself for a life of 'freedom' from the task. I asked my friend what was wrong with me and that I felt like I was going crazy.
I remember not feeling very appeased by his response, instead I felt the responsibility to open myself up to the idea of kids. I was not impressed. I was stressed out and then being asked to consider torturing myself with MORE possible stress.
I will admit I felt even more conflicted after that over the kid thing but another suggestion he had was to get away and relax. After ignoring his advice on reconsidering the parent thing (instead I just let it be), I did decide he could be onto something with the relaxing thing.
After my post on having the 'Sads' and again hearing from others that a get away would be wise, I made a commitment to do so and I did.
By that point I had to let the kid thing go. Wally wasn't pressing at all and I just wasn't getting any clarity about it and we weren't in a rush. Also, after I met with Sasha and heard her honest take on motherhood and life as a parent I definitely felt that the decision wasn't getting any easier (By the way I love that Sasha is as honest about mommydom as I am about marriage - we're like the two people you need to talk to before making those decisions, just an FYI).
Anyways, I finally took time off and went away by myself to relax and get renewed. I finally admit another goal I have and feel as though my retreat may ignite some insight into it. And what do I get? A reminder about the kid thing. In fact, even more than a reminder, confirmation. I am indeed to be a mother.
Usually when people find out they can't have kids (and again I can't say Wally and I are in that particular boat, we still proceed in life expecting that we could very well be able to), they are at the point when they know it's right for them, they know it's what they want.
For me, I had headed in the opposite direction. The direction of 'I don't want to do what I want to do, because sometimes what I want isn't the best thing for me. So if I'm supposed to be a mom I need to be told that's what I should do, but someone who knows best. Otherwise I'd be making a hasty selfish decision (not that having kids is necessarily selfish, but for many people it is; they want to have the appearance of the perfect family, they want to be loved by someone, or they want what society says they should have, instead of seeing it as the biggest sacrifice they could make though I know you do get a lot out of it).
I didn't want to get into parenthood for the wrong reasons and then resent my kid(s) for taking away what I just acquired: a job, time with my husband, the joy of writing, and certain self realizations. (Oh yeah, and sleep, not that I get tonnes of it but I enjoy what little I get).
I basically didn't want to shoot myself in the foot. (Sorry parents if this sounds horrific, I'm just being honest).
Needless to say I was a bit surprised that within the first couple of hours of my retreat God revealed this to me.
How do I know it was God? Because all of the doubts I had before in myself have completely vanished, and I have peace now that I NEVER EVER had while wrestling oer every wandering possibility. I am now entering the thoughts of being a mom kind of like a job, that was given to me by an expert on the topic. You know as well as I do if someone you admire for doing something well tells you they think you'd be great at it your confidence sky rockets.
I know to some degree what to expect, while at the same time I have no idea at all. I know that I won't sleep. I know that I may or may not have what society considers a 'normal' child. I all of a sudden know that I can still work on my degree and be a mom (it won't be easy but people do it). I know that I can work if I want to and be a mom. I know that there will be situations I just don't know the answer to but that's normal. And that I'll screw up often but I'm pretty sure that's what parents are supposed to do (not intentionally).
I know that I probably won't ever have a clean house again, or clean clothes for that matter. I know that I will have days when I don't think I can take any more (I'm starting to think that you have those no matter what though). I know that it'll be the hardest thing I will ever do. I know that I will likely wonder at times if I heard God correctly.
Most of all I will know I didn't make this decision alone. That gives me more peace about this than anything else. Because if I didn't have to make this decision alone, it means the one asking me to do this won't make me do it alone (of course I do remember tat Wally is apart of this too).
It's with this knowledge that I am accepting this realization.
As I am walking through other dreams I have and trying to live them out I am realizing the incredible gift of acceptance. It should not go unappreciated.
Many people never accept the gifts they are given because they don't believe they deserve them, or they don't feel as though they know what to do with them so in turn they run from them. They never accept them.
I was running because I was scared. Scared that I didn't have this particular gift, that is wasn't for me. But it was. It is. And now that I know this I accept it and all that I will learn from it.
Now I need to say that for me I believe motherhood is a gift. For you it may be something else.
It may be singleness giving you freedom as wide as the ocean (this gift is way undersold), it may be a life full of love for a partner that grows in ways unknown by those with other distractions. You may be called to travel the world and serve those in places I've never seen. You may be gifted to learn and teach.
I could go on and on.
Know that as you give them back to God, the desires of your heart will be met and I think, surpassed.
Don't get me wrong, in one way I am still scared senseless to enter this world. I mean I am not into pastels, baby talk, or talking about my 'plug'. Lord willing I can get by all of this without any of it occurring. I know that however I become a mother He will once again meet me where I'm at and give me what I need to do the job the best way I can.
Maybe we can settle on primary colours ... I'm really not a traditionalist, if you hadn't caught on to that yet.
(BTW Even though this realization has come Wally and I are making no efforts at this time to make such things occur. I'm just enjoying no longer stressing about making this decision. That's why I'm writing about it).
During my retreat I finally came to the realization that God (or however you feel comfortable taking it) has indeed 'called' me to be a mother.
How is this different than me choosing to be a mother?
Well, as humans we all have the opportunity to have children (whether biologically, adoptively, or spiritually). You do not need to physically give birth, go through lawyers and paperwork, or be given permission by someone to take on the responsibility of helping someone grow as a human being. At any given time you can develop a bond with another person and take on a parenting role which provides the necessities of life.
As I've mentioned before I've always felt the desire to be a mother. No doubt much of it came from the natural womanly instinct to do so. I think that many of us come pre-programmed to naturally want this, it is pretty much all over our bodies.
However somewhere along the road (I've mentioned how) this changed for me and the fear of child rearing overcame any sense I had to step into the realm of procreation.
The fact that I am not a fairytale thinker makes the image of having children even less appealing.
I once loved the idea of becoming a mommy because it meant someone (in the ideal situation) would love me, someone would need me, I would get to stay home and be all Martha Stewarty (though after her stint in prison doesn't sound all that positive), ultimately I would get make and be someone's world. For some reason this idea appealed to me (in this moment I can't for the life of me figure out why).
Once reality hit I woke up and saw what motherhood was really like and the pendulum swung in the opposite direction.
Then when I thought of mother hood I thought of all of the same things that I mentioned earlier but in a different light. Someone would love me - now meaning I could hurt them when I screwed up or was absent. Someone would need me - therefore being absent wasn't really an option (at least not if you wanted to be a good parent). I would get to stay home all day - like Martha Stewart, be imprisoned and never get to leave.
Suddenly my perspective changed. All the things I once saw as the reasons to become a mother quickly became my reasons NOT to become a mother. Thus putting me in a rather difficult position. To make a choice.
I have had several conversations with people (predominantly mothers) about this topic and have not had one of them give me a straight answer.
I've heard 'You'll know when you know' (Great, thanks I'll keep waiting then for the lightning bolt and pray it doesn't hit when I'm 75). I've also heard 'Some people are meant to have kids and some aren't' (Ok so it that a hint?). Then there's been the 'You're never ready to have kids, just do it!' (Alright, so I shouldn't finish college first?). And then there's 'If you aren't positive DON'T do it because once they are here they are here' (so I'm off the hook then?). And I can't leave out the 'You're only 30 don't worry about it now!' (Yeah I get that but I also know first hand that once I'm 35 things change a lot in regards to pregnancy and adoption itself does not happen overnight).
None of these responses ever made me feel closer to knowing what to do. I mean Wally and I did give the natural thing a chance for a little while so it's not like we had been completely closed to the idea but now that we feel that the ball is entirely in our court knowing what to do is more difficult. Do you go ahead and adopt? Do you take this thing as a sign that you are 'off the hook' for the parent thing and breathe a huge sigh of relief? Or do you forge ahead because society expects every household with a thirty something couple to have two kids and a couple of pets?
No answers were coming to me.
A couple of months ago when I was maxed out with stress I e-mailed a friend of mine about my stress dilemma compounded with Wally showing the beginnings of wanting a family. Suddenly the tables were turning and Wally was the one ready for kids and I was finally preparing myself for a life of 'freedom' from the task. I asked my friend what was wrong with me and that I felt like I was going crazy.
I remember not feeling very appeased by his response, instead I felt the responsibility to open myself up to the idea of kids. I was not impressed. I was stressed out and then being asked to consider torturing myself with MORE possible stress.
I will admit I felt even more conflicted after that over the kid thing but another suggestion he had was to get away and relax. After ignoring his advice on reconsidering the parent thing (instead I just let it be), I did decide he could be onto something with the relaxing thing.
After my post on having the 'Sads' and again hearing from others that a get away would be wise, I made a commitment to do so and I did.
By that point I had to let the kid thing go. Wally wasn't pressing at all and I just wasn't getting any clarity about it and we weren't in a rush. Also, after I met with Sasha and heard her honest take on motherhood and life as a parent I definitely felt that the decision wasn't getting any easier (By the way I love that Sasha is as honest about mommydom as I am about marriage - we're like the two people you need to talk to before making those decisions, just an FYI).
Anyways, I finally took time off and went away by myself to relax and get renewed. I finally admit another goal I have and feel as though my retreat may ignite some insight into it. And what do I get? A reminder about the kid thing. In fact, even more than a reminder, confirmation. I am indeed to be a mother.
Usually when people find out they can't have kids (and again I can't say Wally and I are in that particular boat, we still proceed in life expecting that we could very well be able to), they are at the point when they know it's right for them, they know it's what they want.
For me, I had headed in the opposite direction. The direction of 'I don't want to do what I want to do, because sometimes what I want isn't the best thing for me. So if I'm supposed to be a mom I need to be told that's what I should do, but someone who knows best. Otherwise I'd be making a hasty selfish decision (not that having kids is necessarily selfish, but for many people it is; they want to have the appearance of the perfect family, they want to be loved by someone, or they want what society says they should have, instead of seeing it as the biggest sacrifice they could make though I know you do get a lot out of it).
I didn't want to get into parenthood for the wrong reasons and then resent my kid(s) for taking away what I just acquired: a job, time with my husband, the joy of writing, and certain self realizations. (Oh yeah, and sleep, not that I get tonnes of it but I enjoy what little I get).
I basically didn't want to shoot myself in the foot. (Sorry parents if this sounds horrific, I'm just being honest).
Needless to say I was a bit surprised that within the first couple of hours of my retreat God revealed this to me.
How do I know it was God? Because all of the doubts I had before in myself have completely vanished, and I have peace now that I NEVER EVER had while wrestling oer every wandering possibility. I am now entering the thoughts of being a mom kind of like a job, that was given to me by an expert on the topic. You know as well as I do if someone you admire for doing something well tells you they think you'd be great at it your confidence sky rockets.
I know to some degree what to expect, while at the same time I have no idea at all. I know that I won't sleep. I know that I may or may not have what society considers a 'normal' child. I all of a sudden know that I can still work on my degree and be a mom (it won't be easy but people do it). I know that I can work if I want to and be a mom. I know that there will be situations I just don't know the answer to but that's normal. And that I'll screw up often but I'm pretty sure that's what parents are supposed to do (not intentionally).
I know that I probably won't ever have a clean house again, or clean clothes for that matter. I know that I will have days when I don't think I can take any more (I'm starting to think that you have those no matter what though). I know that it'll be the hardest thing I will ever do. I know that I will likely wonder at times if I heard God correctly.
Most of all I will know I didn't make this decision alone. That gives me more peace about this than anything else. Because if I didn't have to make this decision alone, it means the one asking me to do this won't make me do it alone (of course I do remember tat Wally is apart of this too).
It's with this knowledge that I am accepting this realization.
As I am walking through other dreams I have and trying to live them out I am realizing the incredible gift of acceptance. It should not go unappreciated.
Many people never accept the gifts they are given because they don't believe they deserve them, or they don't feel as though they know what to do with them so in turn they run from them. They never accept them.
I was running because I was scared. Scared that I didn't have this particular gift, that is wasn't for me. But it was. It is. And now that I know this I accept it and all that I will learn from it.
Now I need to say that for me I believe motherhood is a gift. For you it may be something else.
It may be singleness giving you freedom as wide as the ocean (this gift is way undersold), it may be a life full of love for a partner that grows in ways unknown by those with other distractions. You may be called to travel the world and serve those in places I've never seen. You may be gifted to learn and teach.
I could go on and on.
Know that as you give them back to God, the desires of your heart will be met and I think, surpassed.
Don't get me wrong, in one way I am still scared senseless to enter this world. I mean I am not into pastels, baby talk, or talking about my 'plug'. Lord willing I can get by all of this without any of it occurring. I know that however I become a mother He will once again meet me where I'm at and give me what I need to do the job the best way I can.
Maybe we can settle on primary colours ... I'm really not a traditionalist, if you hadn't caught on to that yet.
(BTW Even though this realization has come Wally and I are making no efforts at this time to make such things occur. I'm just enjoying no longer stressing about making this decision. That's why I'm writing about it).
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Retreatville Day 3
It’s now 8 am and I am trying to prepare myself for home. Both physically and mentally.
I just came up from breakfast by myself.
(By the way I think my host must have high jacked my laptop while I was away yesterday. For breakfast today he offered me eggs and ham with my yogurt, fruit and granola. Of course this was after I had rounded out my meal ahead with some cottage cheese from home. Needless to say I am overly stuffed even after leaving half of the ham on the plate. My body is currently trying to process triple the protein it’s used to in one sitting).
I really enjoyed breakfast by myself. At one point the sun shone brightly through the window near me and I considered it God’s personal gesture of affection to start my journey home.
As I sit on my island in my oasis I ponder all of my little discoveries while I’ve been here. I’ve actually learned quite a bit during my short siesta.
I’ve learned ….
I love time on my own. I’ve always known this to some degree but never imagined I enjoyed it so much. I was actually quite comfortable with myself. In fact I’m pretty good company.
Sometimes you need to turn everything off. Even while away I found it easy to distract myself with books or movies. Though unromantic at times, intentional quiet is necessary too.
The movies I picked each taught me something new. Though 2 of the 3 I’d seen before and weren’t my favourites, I really got a lot out of them. A lot. It was good.
I am indeed a mother. Though I know many really have no idea what getting confirmation on this means to me, I do. It brings me so much peace, in so many areas of my life.
I learned that God is still listening (not that I ever thought He stopped). He is always waiting for us to stop and notice His great love.
I need to remember to see the joy in everyday. It’s there.
Silence is always around. We just need to remember to let it have a voice.
Eating alone is sometimes a gift.
Waterfalls are miraculous.
Gay people have their own travel magazine (they do! There’s one in my room). I didn’t mention this before but the man that owns and runs the B&B is gay (as was the woman who owned the one Wally and I went on our vacation). He definitely doesn’t hide it (it is posted on the B&B’s website which I thought was wise). I sort of purposefully came here because of that actually, since we had such a great experience at the other one, I thought maybe there was a correlation. I’d come back.
I’ve learned that I am more capable and daring than I ever thought I was. I mean I couldn’t travel abroad by myself but maybe someday.
I have an incredibly supportive amazing husband, whom for the most part I take for granted.
I guess I’ve learned quite a bit. Not all discoveries were expected but they were all welcome in the end.
Now I have to prepare myself for real life again and how I might find the quiet in it. I’ll do my best.
I know life is busy for everyone. I know it’s not always easy or seemingly possible to just take off by yourself for a couple of days but I believe it’s necessary sometimes. I don’t care if you are a single person or married, a mother of young children or free from that responsibility. We ALL need time to think, to pray, to hope, to relax, to dream, to figure. We all do.
If you are reading this and you wonder at all if this is something you may benefit from I’m here to say YES you will. Don’t expect a miracle in some lightning bolt sense, but if you go with an open mind and a willing heart you will learn something. And I’m pretty sure most times the little things we learn are indeed the big things.
I’m kinda thinkin’ that I might keep learnin’ a few little things even when I get back.
Here’s hoping.
Yours,
Eva
I just came up from breakfast by myself.
(By the way I think my host must have high jacked my laptop while I was away yesterday. For breakfast today he offered me eggs and ham with my yogurt, fruit and granola. Of course this was after I had rounded out my meal ahead with some cottage cheese from home. Needless to say I am overly stuffed even after leaving half of the ham on the plate. My body is currently trying to process triple the protein it’s used to in one sitting).
I really enjoyed breakfast by myself. At one point the sun shone brightly through the window near me and I considered it God’s personal gesture of affection to start my journey home.
As I sit on my island in my oasis I ponder all of my little discoveries while I’ve been here. I’ve actually learned quite a bit during my short siesta.
I’ve learned ….
I love time on my own. I’ve always known this to some degree but never imagined I enjoyed it so much. I was actually quite comfortable with myself. In fact I’m pretty good company.
Sometimes you need to turn everything off. Even while away I found it easy to distract myself with books or movies. Though unromantic at times, intentional quiet is necessary too.
The movies I picked each taught me something new. Though 2 of the 3 I’d seen before and weren’t my favourites, I really got a lot out of them. A lot. It was good.
I am indeed a mother. Though I know many really have no idea what getting confirmation on this means to me, I do. It brings me so much peace, in so many areas of my life.
I learned that God is still listening (not that I ever thought He stopped). He is always waiting for us to stop and notice His great love.
I need to remember to see the joy in everyday. It’s there.
Silence is always around. We just need to remember to let it have a voice.
Eating alone is sometimes a gift.
Waterfalls are miraculous.
Gay people have their own travel magazine (they do! There’s one in my room). I didn’t mention this before but the man that owns and runs the B&B is gay (as was the woman who owned the one Wally and I went on our vacation). He definitely doesn’t hide it (it is posted on the B&B’s website which I thought was wise). I sort of purposefully came here because of that actually, since we had such a great experience at the other one, I thought maybe there was a correlation. I’d come back.
I’ve learned that I am more capable and daring than I ever thought I was. I mean I couldn’t travel abroad by myself but maybe someday.
I have an incredibly supportive amazing husband, whom for the most part I take for granted.
I guess I’ve learned quite a bit. Not all discoveries were expected but they were all welcome in the end.
Now I have to prepare myself for real life again and how I might find the quiet in it. I’ll do my best.
I know life is busy for everyone. I know it’s not always easy or seemingly possible to just take off by yourself for a couple of days but I believe it’s necessary sometimes. I don’t care if you are a single person or married, a mother of young children or free from that responsibility. We ALL need time to think, to pray, to hope, to relax, to dream, to figure. We all do.
If you are reading this and you wonder at all if this is something you may benefit from I’m here to say YES you will. Don’t expect a miracle in some lightning bolt sense, but if you go with an open mind and a willing heart you will learn something. And I’m pretty sure most times the little things we learn are indeed the big things.
I’m kinda thinkin’ that I might keep learnin’ a few little things even when I get back.
Here’s hoping.
Yours,
Eva
Retreatville Day 2/4
It’s almost 9:30pm on my second night. The time has whipped by far quicker than I thought it would.
After my round of solitaire I enjoyed an hour long nap. When I woke up I went back to Gloryland for my final journey, it was grand. I then decided I needed to get out again. I perused my trusty map and got an idea of somewhere I could possibly park the car and go for a nice long walk.
Once again I made a last minute turn that shocked the car behind me and I veered towards my destination. I found a spot where several other cars were parked on the side of the road near a couple of small baseball fields filled with little kids and their parents. (I later wished I’d stayed to watch them play after my walk, there’s something about watching little kids do sports). I grabbed my MP3 player, my keys, my camera and cell phone (thought I’d be wise this time seeing as I was navigating myself around a foreign town). I threw my purse in the trunk and off I walked.
I walked for about 15 minutes when I came upon a street called ‘Lovers Lane’, took a picture of the sign and decided that was definitely to street I was going to walk down. And I did.
I noticed all of the large immaculately kept homes. Quite the sight to see. I enjoyed peeking through bushes and peering past gated fences to see how the people in this neighbourhood lived. Very nicely it appeared.
I walked as far as I could until I ran out of sidewalk then turned back and kept walking in the opposite direction of my car. I got to a bench and noticed I wasn’t all that far from all of the churches I drove past earlier today. I decided it probably wouldn’t be a wise move to try and walk to them since I had already walked 45 minutes and my car was still a good distance away.
Instead I chose to sit on the bench and watch the traffic go by. I really wished the bench was somewhere more secluded and quiet, but it wasn’t so I would try my best to ponder loudly.
I thought about my time away, if I’d made good use of it, if I had anything to take away from it, if I would try this again someday.
I decided I had a very good time, that it didn’t seem long enough but I could take things back with me and try and learn to rest and reflect while at home in the every day.
There was actually a phrase that came to me while I was on my walk. It was: ‘Find the joy in the everyday’.
I thought that was interesting. Surely it’s already on a plaque somewhere, maybe I’ve even heard it before, I don’t know. But it reminded me that all of the things I’ve done while away can be done in some way at home. And, there is always joy somewhere in a situation or the everyday, you just have to look. Maybe it’ll become my new mantra. We’ll see.
I sat on the bench and tried to collect up and organize my thoughts to figure out some great epiphany (because apparently getting confirmation that I am indeed a mother in waiting isn’t enough for me).
I found it difficult. After a while I stopped trying and decided it was time to return to my car.
Once I got home I read on the front porch for a little while, then judged that it was time for me to soak in the tub (seeing as I skipped having a shower this morning, it’s summer, I am a sweater and I guess it seemed logical). I filled it with bubbles then chatted with Wally on the phone for 9 minutes and 38 seconds (you needed to know exact times).
Next I thought it might be a good idea to have another visit with God. I went looking for my journal and could not find it in my room. Rats! I left it in the car and I was in no form to go out and retrieve it.
I then decided to compromise and use the laptop to ‘write’. I learned that it may now be the most natural form for me to use right now in communicating with God.
Seeing as I am now used to typing out my thoughts for the blog it did seem to flow quite well to write out my thoughts to Him on the computer. I know my mother in law would probably have thoughts on this techy style of communication but seeing as I have been communicating more out of the realm of ‘Hey God that’s a cool bug’ or ‘You know God, that person really annoys me’ or just plain ignoring Him altogether, I’m taking the computer as a good starting over point.
My letter was basic, to the point and sort of affectionate. As affectionate as I get. I may share it, I may not. We’ll see.
It’s now the time I normally go to bed but I really wanted to get a movie in tonight. I may start it and just see how it goes. I am really tired.
Later.
My Letter… (which I share only because I feel that sometimes we need to understand how basic things can be and how easy it can be to start this conversation. Give it a try sometime.)
Dear God,
Well I’m back again. I feel like I ripped you off a little in this retreat. Did I? I don’t know. I am just not sure how to do all this, but I already mentioned that.
I feel as though perhaps this is becoming an excuse for me to not communicate with you more often. Is it? I don’t want to make promises to you for when I go home like ‘I’ll do this for this amount of time and that for that amount of time’ but I do feel as though I need to make some sort of an effort, you know, considering all you put up with.
I kinda feel like the wife that wants to stay married but doesn’t know if she loves her husband anymore. This is actually probably a good analogy for me to relate to seeing as I have felt this way before and you have healed and brought hope to that situation. Clearly if I give even a little to start with you can do great things with that.
What do you think we should do when we hang out now? Is it any different than before? Should I go to church or home group again? What about Wally? How does it work for us?
God I know life is better with you. I know life is hopeful with you. God I know things are possible with you. Help me.
Am I allowed to listen for you? You know, like I used to. Maybe doing this would be good, just typing it out? Would that be so wrong? It makes me think of you. It makes me remember you.
God, you are more than I could ever deserve. You are … perfect.
I’ll be honest I’m sort of surprised I am saying these things but I’m pretty sure I mean them. You would know best.
I want to get to know you again. With fresh eyes and hopefully an open heart. I won’t lie it scares me a lot. I’m scared of religion, of theology, of confusion. I know to some degree those things are inevitable seeing as I’m human, you are God and I live on earth and humans sort of have issues with these things and stuff.
God, what if I commit to ten minutes a day? I mean it could turn into more somedays and of course that’s the hope but I’m thinking baby steps. I’m scared to fail, to let you down. I’m tired of failing, so tired.
Can you clean my heart please? A nice polish. I’ll do my best to let you do that and guard it from the dirt.
Thank you for the waterfall today. I needed that. It was beautiful. Really beautiful. I could have stood there all day.
Can you open my eyes and show me more? I know it’s all around me. I know it is. But sometimes I let other things get in my view. I want to always see you instead. I think you are pretty handsome.
I wish I could hug you God. I wish I could feel you hug me. I think you do all of the time but I probably don’t notice. Teach me God, how to notice your hugs.
Then of course there’s my family and those around me. I haven’t been great with them. I haven’t loved as well as I know I could. Can you help me with this?
God I want to keep seeing you, if that’s ok. I know that it’s pretty much up to me. Please feel free to remind me of stuff at anytime. I need it.
I love you Papa. I missed you. I don’t want to leave you again. Thank you for not leaving me. You are so great.
P.S. About the mom thing, I can’t do it without you. You know that right? I’m not tryin’ to be bossy but you are gonna have to orchestrate this one because I don’t know what to do. Have fun with it!
Love your daughter,
Eva :)
After my round of solitaire I enjoyed an hour long nap. When I woke up I went back to Gloryland for my final journey, it was grand. I then decided I needed to get out again. I perused my trusty map and got an idea of somewhere I could possibly park the car and go for a nice long walk.
Once again I made a last minute turn that shocked the car behind me and I veered towards my destination. I found a spot where several other cars were parked on the side of the road near a couple of small baseball fields filled with little kids and their parents. (I later wished I’d stayed to watch them play after my walk, there’s something about watching little kids do sports). I grabbed my MP3 player, my keys, my camera and cell phone (thought I’d be wise this time seeing as I was navigating myself around a foreign town). I threw my purse in the trunk and off I walked.
I walked for about 15 minutes when I came upon a street called ‘Lovers Lane’, took a picture of the sign and decided that was definitely to street I was going to walk down. And I did.
I noticed all of the large immaculately kept homes. Quite the sight to see. I enjoyed peeking through bushes and peering past gated fences to see how the people in this neighbourhood lived. Very nicely it appeared.
I walked as far as I could until I ran out of sidewalk then turned back and kept walking in the opposite direction of my car. I got to a bench and noticed I wasn’t all that far from all of the churches I drove past earlier today. I decided it probably wouldn’t be a wise move to try and walk to them since I had already walked 45 minutes and my car was still a good distance away.
Instead I chose to sit on the bench and watch the traffic go by. I really wished the bench was somewhere more secluded and quiet, but it wasn’t so I would try my best to ponder loudly.
I thought about my time away, if I’d made good use of it, if I had anything to take away from it, if I would try this again someday.
I decided I had a very good time, that it didn’t seem long enough but I could take things back with me and try and learn to rest and reflect while at home in the every day.
There was actually a phrase that came to me while I was on my walk. It was: ‘Find the joy in the everyday’.
I thought that was interesting. Surely it’s already on a plaque somewhere, maybe I’ve even heard it before, I don’t know. But it reminded me that all of the things I’ve done while away can be done in some way at home. And, there is always joy somewhere in a situation or the everyday, you just have to look. Maybe it’ll become my new mantra. We’ll see.
I sat on the bench and tried to collect up and organize my thoughts to figure out some great epiphany (because apparently getting confirmation that I am indeed a mother in waiting isn’t enough for me).
I found it difficult. After a while I stopped trying and decided it was time to return to my car.
Once I got home I read on the front porch for a little while, then judged that it was time for me to soak in the tub (seeing as I skipped having a shower this morning, it’s summer, I am a sweater and I guess it seemed logical). I filled it with bubbles then chatted with Wally on the phone for 9 minutes and 38 seconds (you needed to know exact times).
Next I thought it might be a good idea to have another visit with God. I went looking for my journal and could not find it in my room. Rats! I left it in the car and I was in no form to go out and retrieve it.
I then decided to compromise and use the laptop to ‘write’. I learned that it may now be the most natural form for me to use right now in communicating with God.
Seeing as I am now used to typing out my thoughts for the blog it did seem to flow quite well to write out my thoughts to Him on the computer. I know my mother in law would probably have thoughts on this techy style of communication but seeing as I have been communicating more out of the realm of ‘Hey God that’s a cool bug’ or ‘You know God, that person really annoys me’ or just plain ignoring Him altogether, I’m taking the computer as a good starting over point.
My letter was basic, to the point and sort of affectionate. As affectionate as I get. I may share it, I may not. We’ll see.
It’s now the time I normally go to bed but I really wanted to get a movie in tonight. I may start it and just see how it goes. I am really tired.
Later.
My Letter… (which I share only because I feel that sometimes we need to understand how basic things can be and how easy it can be to start this conversation. Give it a try sometime.)
Dear God,
Well I’m back again. I feel like I ripped you off a little in this retreat. Did I? I don’t know. I am just not sure how to do all this, but I already mentioned that.
I feel as though perhaps this is becoming an excuse for me to not communicate with you more often. Is it? I don’t want to make promises to you for when I go home like ‘I’ll do this for this amount of time and that for that amount of time’ but I do feel as though I need to make some sort of an effort, you know, considering all you put up with.
I kinda feel like the wife that wants to stay married but doesn’t know if she loves her husband anymore. This is actually probably a good analogy for me to relate to seeing as I have felt this way before and you have healed and brought hope to that situation. Clearly if I give even a little to start with you can do great things with that.
What do you think we should do when we hang out now? Is it any different than before? Should I go to church or home group again? What about Wally? How does it work for us?
God I know life is better with you. I know life is hopeful with you. God I know things are possible with you. Help me.
Am I allowed to listen for you? You know, like I used to. Maybe doing this would be good, just typing it out? Would that be so wrong? It makes me think of you. It makes me remember you.
God, you are more than I could ever deserve. You are … perfect.
I’ll be honest I’m sort of surprised I am saying these things but I’m pretty sure I mean them. You would know best.
I want to get to know you again. With fresh eyes and hopefully an open heart. I won’t lie it scares me a lot. I’m scared of religion, of theology, of confusion. I know to some degree those things are inevitable seeing as I’m human, you are God and I live on earth and humans sort of have issues with these things and stuff.
God, what if I commit to ten minutes a day? I mean it could turn into more somedays and of course that’s the hope but I’m thinking baby steps. I’m scared to fail, to let you down. I’m tired of failing, so tired.
Can you clean my heart please? A nice polish. I’ll do my best to let you do that and guard it from the dirt.
Thank you for the waterfall today. I needed that. It was beautiful. Really beautiful. I could have stood there all day.
Can you open my eyes and show me more? I know it’s all around me. I know it is. But sometimes I let other things get in my view. I want to always see you instead. I think you are pretty handsome.
I wish I could hug you God. I wish I could feel you hug me. I think you do all of the time but I probably don’t notice. Teach me God, how to notice your hugs.
Then of course there’s my family and those around me. I haven’t been great with them. I haven’t loved as well as I know I could. Can you help me with this?
God I want to keep seeing you, if that’s ok. I know that it’s pretty much up to me. Please feel free to remind me of stuff at anytime. I need it.
I love you Papa. I missed you. I don’t want to leave you again. Thank you for not leaving me. You are so great.
P.S. About the mom thing, I can’t do it without you. You know that right? I’m not tryin’ to be bossy but you are gonna have to orchestrate this one because I don’t know what to do. Have fun with it!
Love your daughter,
Eva :)
Retreatville Day 2/3
I’ve been here now for nearly 24 hours. It’s been good. I am currently listening to my host show some new guest through the house. I already know the spiel.
I had breakfast this morning with a couple from the States and a lady with a very thick accent I didn’t recognize. All three were hobby dog handlers in the area for training.
Much of the conversation held the words ‘diagonal’, ‘cross’, and ‘course’. I was lost but stayed too long to be excused in the middle. I mostly sat and listened. They were nice.
Breakfast was continental. I didn’t know B & B’s could do that, I mean isn’t there like a law somewhere that says they have to deliver real breakfast? I was a tad disappointed but oh well. My body got it’s daily dose of carbs and a retreat from protein, it wasn’t excited.
Later this morning I decided to get in the car and take a trip. To where? I didn’t know. Just out.
I grabbed the place mat sheet with a basic area map on it and all of the things to see. Initially I just had a goal of finding a Wal-Mart to people watch, if I got lucky I’d find a mall.
I did notice the map showed a trail or two (ok several) but the sky was quite overcast. I decided if I stumbled upon one I’d totally stop. Well, that is if I had the courage.
I took a snack, some water and all of my keys then hopped in the car.
As I drove I came to not one but two circle round about thingys. There weren’t as confusing as I thought. I was proud of myself for not screwing them up.
I kept driving, even past the Wal-Mart. Courage had come. I kept my eyes open for the trail.
I quickly learned ‘keeping my eyes opened’ was a bit dangerous as it also caused my eyes to wander. I barely managed to stay safe.
I drove past a little town with some beautiful churches but saw no where to park so I kept going. I came upon some gorgeous scenery as I was in an escarpment area with rocks and cliffs and stuff. It was cool.
As I drove I came upon my trail. In a last second decision I pulled over, no doubt giving the car behind me a heart attack. I parked the car and sat to figure out what I needed on this adventure.
Definitely my camera, certainly my running shoes and most likely a sweater – just in case.
Other things I should’ve brought but didn’t: my cell phone, my water and my snack. You know, just in case I got lost or stranded, abducted or hurt. I threw up a prayer as my insurance instead.
As I got onto the trail I read the sign and it said something about a waterfall. I clearly paid no attention at the time though because I was stunned when I eventually came to it. I guess I was focused on not getting lost.
I read signs that spoke of wearing the proper hiking gear. Runners and a hoodie didn’t make the list. I took my chances.
I walked along a narrow winding path that went steep down on one side to a babbling brook and went steep up to trees, trees, trees on the other. Though it was often cloudy every once in a while the sun found its way through the trees to play peek a boo with me. When it did I felt like the sky was smiling at me, even though I couldn’t really see it.
The walk was beautiful. There were a few firmly built bridges to walk over and rocks to watch your steps on but not a difficult hike. Rather short actually. Within ten minutes I had gotten to the end of the trail, but was not disappointed when I saw what awaited me.
A huge magnificent waterfall. Trickling down layers and layers of rocks.
There was a deck to stand on, sort of a ‘look out’. There was already a middle aged couple there chatting away. The gentleman said hello but the lady didn’t even look at me. I hoped they were on their way, but no such luck.
I stood there and looked for several minutes. I took lots of pictures from different angles. I tried to ‘connect with nature’. I’m not so sure I was successful but I definitely appreciated what I was experiencing.
I tried to figure out if this surprise waterfall meant anything in my journey. Nothing jumped out at me. I decided if my memory served me well that the waterfall may end up representing my time away. My little discovery about being a mother. (One might correct me and say ‘becoming’ a mother, but I’d correct them and say ‘being’ a mother).
Once I had absorbed all I could I ventured back to the car and decided to keep driving to see what I’d find.
Not too far in, my street came to an end and I had to choose a turn. I chose right and cemented in my mind that it was Main St. I was on. I figured as long as I knew the street and I kept straight how wrong could my sight seeing mission go?
I soon found out, when the street I was driving on turned into 4 lanes of one way traffic. I soon caught on that I was out of my element and clearly you can get into trouble even if you are travelling on the same street in one direction.
If you know me at all you know my incredibly hindered sense of direction. Like, there aren’t words. I had no map either, I mean, not a real one. So I decided on a common sense approach.
It worked. Within ten minutes, after a couple of one way streets and a trip on the freeway (as the GPS lady would call it and no I didn’t use her), I found Main St. again.
I was very proud of myself but now I was getting hungry. I concluded that I would do something I’ve never done before. Go to a sit down restaurant by myself for lunch and order whatever I wanted.
I found a famous chain restaurant that I am keen on that Wally isn’t a fan of (and now that we are eating ‘clean’ I can’t enjoy to it’s fullest anyway). The friend I went with for breakfast a couple of months ago ordered something that made me envious so I put myself in Gloryland and got it for myself today.
Sometimes when you are out of your element you have to enjoy (sometimes you have to enjoy things in your element but that’s the habit we are trying to correct). I concluded one bad meal out of the 18 while away wasn’t a sin. And it WAS my vacation right? (Clearly I still have mental work to do )
I got a cinnamon brioche dipped in French toast batter piled with fresh fruit (I mean fresh), a scrabbled egg and 3 thinly spiced pieces of bacon. I have to share a couple of things. I have not eaten bacon in 3 ½ months and before that I was involved in a deep and serious love affair with it.
Today I learned that the affair is over. Bacon was ok but not worth the affair. Good to know.
As for my cinnamon brioche French toast …. Oh. My. Goodness. It was indeed a piece of Gloryland. Seriously. Every bite amazing. And though I won’t be having it again, well, maybe ever. It was worth it.
I ended bringing half of my lunch/breakfast home to be enjoyed later.
I then did something I won’t share, then headed home.
I just finished watching a rather difficult movie. I learned something about myself from it. Or rather I was reminded of a piece of my past. Let’s just say I am thankful for today.
I am thankful for today.
The sun is shining now and the breeze blowing. If it wasn’t such a drive I’d go find another trail or something. Maybe later, maybe not. I think I’ll listen to a podcast now and play some solitaire.
Ciao!
I had breakfast this morning with a couple from the States and a lady with a very thick accent I didn’t recognize. All three were hobby dog handlers in the area for training.
Much of the conversation held the words ‘diagonal’, ‘cross’, and ‘course’. I was lost but stayed too long to be excused in the middle. I mostly sat and listened. They were nice.
Breakfast was continental. I didn’t know B & B’s could do that, I mean isn’t there like a law somewhere that says they have to deliver real breakfast? I was a tad disappointed but oh well. My body got it’s daily dose of carbs and a retreat from protein, it wasn’t excited.
Later this morning I decided to get in the car and take a trip. To where? I didn’t know. Just out.
I grabbed the place mat sheet with a basic area map on it and all of the things to see. Initially I just had a goal of finding a Wal-Mart to people watch, if I got lucky I’d find a mall.
I did notice the map showed a trail or two (ok several) but the sky was quite overcast. I decided if I stumbled upon one I’d totally stop. Well, that is if I had the courage.
I took a snack, some water and all of my keys then hopped in the car.
As I drove I came to not one but two circle round about thingys. There weren’t as confusing as I thought. I was proud of myself for not screwing them up.
I kept driving, even past the Wal-Mart. Courage had come. I kept my eyes open for the trail.
I quickly learned ‘keeping my eyes opened’ was a bit dangerous as it also caused my eyes to wander. I barely managed to stay safe.
I drove past a little town with some beautiful churches but saw no where to park so I kept going. I came upon some gorgeous scenery as I was in an escarpment area with rocks and cliffs and stuff. It was cool.
As I drove I came upon my trail. In a last second decision I pulled over, no doubt giving the car behind me a heart attack. I parked the car and sat to figure out what I needed on this adventure.
Definitely my camera, certainly my running shoes and most likely a sweater – just in case.
Other things I should’ve brought but didn’t: my cell phone, my water and my snack. You know, just in case I got lost or stranded, abducted or hurt. I threw up a prayer as my insurance instead.
As I got onto the trail I read the sign and it said something about a waterfall. I clearly paid no attention at the time though because I was stunned when I eventually came to it. I guess I was focused on not getting lost.
I read signs that spoke of wearing the proper hiking gear. Runners and a hoodie didn’t make the list. I took my chances.
I walked along a narrow winding path that went steep down on one side to a babbling brook and went steep up to trees, trees, trees on the other. Though it was often cloudy every once in a while the sun found its way through the trees to play peek a boo with me. When it did I felt like the sky was smiling at me, even though I couldn’t really see it.
The walk was beautiful. There were a few firmly built bridges to walk over and rocks to watch your steps on but not a difficult hike. Rather short actually. Within ten minutes I had gotten to the end of the trail, but was not disappointed when I saw what awaited me.
A huge magnificent waterfall. Trickling down layers and layers of rocks.
There was a deck to stand on, sort of a ‘look out’. There was already a middle aged couple there chatting away. The gentleman said hello but the lady didn’t even look at me. I hoped they were on their way, but no such luck.
I stood there and looked for several minutes. I took lots of pictures from different angles. I tried to ‘connect with nature’. I’m not so sure I was successful but I definitely appreciated what I was experiencing.
I tried to figure out if this surprise waterfall meant anything in my journey. Nothing jumped out at me. I decided if my memory served me well that the waterfall may end up representing my time away. My little discovery about being a mother. (One might correct me and say ‘becoming’ a mother, but I’d correct them and say ‘being’ a mother).
Once I had absorbed all I could I ventured back to the car and decided to keep driving to see what I’d find.
Not too far in, my street came to an end and I had to choose a turn. I chose right and cemented in my mind that it was Main St. I was on. I figured as long as I knew the street and I kept straight how wrong could my sight seeing mission go?
I soon found out, when the street I was driving on turned into 4 lanes of one way traffic. I soon caught on that I was out of my element and clearly you can get into trouble even if you are travelling on the same street in one direction.
If you know me at all you know my incredibly hindered sense of direction. Like, there aren’t words. I had no map either, I mean, not a real one. So I decided on a common sense approach.
It worked. Within ten minutes, after a couple of one way streets and a trip on the freeway (as the GPS lady would call it and no I didn’t use her), I found Main St. again.
I was very proud of myself but now I was getting hungry. I concluded that I would do something I’ve never done before. Go to a sit down restaurant by myself for lunch and order whatever I wanted.
I found a famous chain restaurant that I am keen on that Wally isn’t a fan of (and now that we are eating ‘clean’ I can’t enjoy to it’s fullest anyway). The friend I went with for breakfast a couple of months ago ordered something that made me envious so I put myself in Gloryland and got it for myself today.
Sometimes when you are out of your element you have to enjoy (sometimes you have to enjoy things in your element but that’s the habit we are trying to correct). I concluded one bad meal out of the 18 while away wasn’t a sin. And it WAS my vacation right? (Clearly I still have mental work to do )
I got a cinnamon brioche dipped in French toast batter piled with fresh fruit (I mean fresh), a scrabbled egg and 3 thinly spiced pieces of bacon. I have to share a couple of things. I have not eaten bacon in 3 ½ months and before that I was involved in a deep and serious love affair with it.
Today I learned that the affair is over. Bacon was ok but not worth the affair. Good to know.
As for my cinnamon brioche French toast …. Oh. My. Goodness. It was indeed a piece of Gloryland. Seriously. Every bite amazing. And though I won’t be having it again, well, maybe ever. It was worth it.
I ended bringing half of my lunch/breakfast home to be enjoyed later.
I then did something I won’t share, then headed home.
I just finished watching a rather difficult movie. I learned something about myself from it. Or rather I was reminded of a piece of my past. Let’s just say I am thankful for today.
I am thankful for today.
The sun is shining now and the breeze blowing. If it wasn’t such a drive I’d go find another trail or something. Maybe later, maybe not. I think I’ll listen to a podcast now and play some solitaire.
Ciao!
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