In Reality

I have lost eight pounds. Granted, in comparison to some of my friends who have lost significant amounts of weight recently, this is just chicken feed as my granny used to say. But having lost significant amounts of weight in the past, I know that starting is the hardest part. That's when you have to get real.

For me, the reality was that I had let life beat me up. Instead of looking at life as a challenge--an adventure to be enjoyed-- the way I used to, I began to see it as something to endure. So I hunkered down and waited for the next attack. And to no surprise, each one came, and each time I balled up tighter in my foxhole. Life had gotten hard and scary so I hid. Literally and figuratively. I was a runner through most of my thirties and I ran freely. Joyfully, most of the time. Then I grew fearful of what could happen while I was out there. It is hard to run while carrying the weight of the world on your back. I learned that the quickest way to lose your love is to become afraid of it.

About a month ago, someone asked me what had been going on in my life. I told her the circumstances. And I told her how I felt. She said she knew that she didn't know me that well, but she didn't think that sounded like me. The cowering, the hiding, the lack of joy. She made a few more comments and suggestions and because I can't let many posts go by without mentioning yoga, I can tell you, that is how I ended up sitting on a mat, crosslegged, learning how to breathe.  Fear drove me there. Fear of people and circumstances, but also the fear of staying the person I had recently become.

I'm learning how to breathe again. I am learning how to sit still, mentally and physically and be fully present. I am learning to close my eyes without bracing myself for attack.  I am learning which boundaries to keep and which to relax. I am learning how to lean into that which is difficult and breathe through it. And I am learning that my reality is not good, nor bad. It just is. I am learning to let go, but knowing I had to take hold first. Life is so much easier to fight for when you stop fighting against it. 

Yearly Evaluations

I turned thirty-nine yesterday. I have never been a fan of birthdays that end with the number nine so needless to say, I was dreading this one. I just don't like the idea of teetering on the end of a decade. I'd rather just jump in to the new one.

The sense of dread was probably compounded by the fact that I just don't think thirty-eight was my finest year. I worked hard and took care of a lot of people I love who needed to be taken care of, but in the mix of things, I lost myself a little bit. Maybe more than a little bit. And I let myself get a little knocked around by life, circumstances, and other peoples' words, attitudes, and judgment. I became fearful and burdened. That's just not like me. Or at least that's what God reminded me when I finally got around to bringing this all up with Him.

So here's the deal. I've done a little evaluating and in the process, realized some truths. My thirties have been pretty good. They were significantly better than my twenties so that alone makes them great. I did a lot of stuff I wanted to do and started a few things I want to finish. I had one great career and then took the chance and started a new one, I started grad school, and ran a marathon. I learned some hard lessons that are making me a better person. I reordered my priorities. I built some stuff, but I'm still tearing down some walls. I have one year left to end this decade on a high note.

This year is going to look a little different than last year. I am going to take a vacation. And there will be water and/or mountains involved. I am going to dance. Because I really like to dance. And sing. I am going to stop waiting for apologies that may not ever come and I will continue to try to always apologize immediately if I hurt someone. I am going to continue to share my heart with people because I really think that is the best thing I have going for me. I'm going to laugh more. And love the people God has given me to love. I'm going to stop wishing. I'm going to say the things I need to say and speak those words with as much genuine kindness as I can possibly muster (ask Megan about Fiddler on the Roof sometime). I'm going to write more because I'm pretty sure that's the second best thing I have going for me. And I haven't figured out what it is yet, but I'm going to do that thing that makes me look back and say "Remember when I was thirty-nine...."