Ok. This post is a story about being a pregnant girl who has to pee. And the reason I'm writing about it is because it surprised me since I have a bladder of steel. A teacher's bladder. One that will last the entire day without so much as a suggestion of fullness.
So here it is. Yesterday, I went swimming. I had a 30-minute workout, so I made sure to go before I jumped in the pool. Every six laps, I would stop and drink and by the time I got out, I had to pee BAD. So I went, of course. Then I showered, got dressed, and drove FIVE minutes to the grocery store. And I had to go AGAIN. What the heck? What is wrong here?!?? This is unearthly. Well, I only had a few items to get... berries, sour cream, orange juice... backtrack to produce to get tomatoes... pressure is building... milk, black beans... crap, I forgot the hummus... WHY IS EVERYONE AT THE COMMISSARY TODAY? Can't you see I'm pregnant? Well, I'm three months, so no you can't, but CAN'T YOU SENSE IT? (One might be asking why I did not just use the restroom at the commissary. Well, because I didn't know where it was and I didn't want to ask. It makes perfect sense, really.) GET OUT OF MY WAY!! Deep breathing... clench muscles... it's all in your mind. Control is within your grasp. Ok, check out, pay, walk to the car. Good job. Controlling it all very well. Super job. Might as well stop to get gas, then. Getting out and pumping gas... hearing the gas gushing into the empty tank... oh, dear... NOT SURE I CAN CONTROL IT SO WELL ANYMORE... then I start SNEEZING! REALLY??!??! Could this get any worse? Yes. Do the dance... tap the foot... sway... more deep breathing... sneeze... look for an empty parking spot near the building... pullthepumpout... sneeze... grabthedamnreceipt... parkclosetothebuilding jumpout runinside trytonotlooklikeyouareinarush...there'sthebathroom!!!... openthedoor... shutthedoor... oh, glory. Glory, glory. Sweet relief. It's a good day. A really, really good day.
What can I say? I have excellent bladder control.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
It's A Whole New Ballgame
Happy New Year! It's 2013 and news around town is we are having a baby. A real human. What am I going to do with another human in our house? I don't even know how to frost a cake properly. And, boy, is Wyatt going to be pissed to find out that after having to adapt to having another dog-creature in the house, he's now going to have to share us with a baby.
In all seriousness, though, we are thrilled. After having lost our last one in July of 2012, we were spending the first trimester taking one day at a time and trying not to get our hopes up while still maintaining our excitement for the present blessing. It seems we can relax a bit now, although you never know what life brings your way. Adam is a very excited dad-to-be and couldn't wait another few weeks to share the news, so we shared it with the world at large on social media, where we can read about someone's marriage proposal and another person's creative cat-shaving techniques in mere seconds.
So now I get to experience the adventure of pregnancy. Mine has been great, actually. During the first one, aside from some heartburn and unearthly salivation, I felt great. This one has been different. I've been way more tired... to the point that Adam really had to take over all the packing and arrangements to move back to Colorado. I've also been bugged by afternoon aversion to food that lasts into the evening. It started at about 6 weeks and disappeared around 11 weeks, but it's back again at 13 weeks. Any sort of meat just turns my stomach, so all I really like to eat in the evenings is salad, eggs, bread, and cheese. In fact, cheese is my go-to. Cheese and crackers, mac and cheese, grilled cheese. It's delightful. Until today when I ordered a grilled cheese at Panera. I love Panera! But they filled my grilled cheese with these pallid bits of bacon that ended my excitement of the grilled cheese. Ugh. Pregnant girl's nightmare.
Anyway, the next few weeks will be full of all kinds of fun milestones... kicking and a pregger belly and starting to realize it is all actually happening. Yeesh. It's going to be a wild ride!
In all seriousness, though, we are thrilled. After having lost our last one in July of 2012, we were spending the first trimester taking one day at a time and trying not to get our hopes up while still maintaining our excitement for the present blessing. It seems we can relax a bit now, although you never know what life brings your way. Adam is a very excited dad-to-be and couldn't wait another few weeks to share the news, so we shared it with the world at large on social media, where we can read about someone's marriage proposal and another person's creative cat-shaving techniques in mere seconds.
So now I get to experience the adventure of pregnancy. Mine has been great, actually. During the first one, aside from some heartburn and unearthly salivation, I felt great. This one has been different. I've been way more tired... to the point that Adam really had to take over all the packing and arrangements to move back to Colorado. I've also been bugged by afternoon aversion to food that lasts into the evening. It started at about 6 weeks and disappeared around 11 weeks, but it's back again at 13 weeks. Any sort of meat just turns my stomach, so all I really like to eat in the evenings is salad, eggs, bread, and cheese. In fact, cheese is my go-to. Cheese and crackers, mac and cheese, grilled cheese. It's delightful. Until today when I ordered a grilled cheese at Panera. I love Panera! But they filled my grilled cheese with these pallid bits of bacon that ended my excitement of the grilled cheese. Ugh. Pregnant girl's nightmare.
Anyway, the next few weeks will be full of all kinds of fun milestones... kicking and a pregger belly and starting to realize it is all actually happening. Yeesh. It's going to be a wild ride!
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Year One
A year ago tomorrow was our wedding day! The love and light from that amazing day will never fade. It's said that life is made up of the simple things and I can say that lines up with what we've experienced this year. We love to think back upon those butterfly effect moments, those simple things, that led us to where we are today and it's thrilling to think that as we go about each day, we live many other butterfly effect moments that will lead us to where we go tomorrow.
In knowing Adam for four years, I've learned lots about him. But there are times in our life that what I learn about him comes in gigantic waves. We were surprised to find out early this summer that we would be expecting a baby early in 2013. I will never forget Adam's expression when I told him. His eyes lit up and for the first time, we began thinking about the family we were beginning. What do we do? I don't even know how to make kneecaps or anything! Within weeks, we settled into the grand idea that we would shortly be welcoming our first little one. I bought Adam the first book that he would read the baby and when we were in New York, we picked up a West Point onesie, so we would be prepared for football games. We shared the news with Adam's family and I sent a book to surprise my parents with the news.
Just a day after I sent this book, we lost the baby. I can't accurately explain the horror of the experience without detailing the entire process. It truly was awful. But we reminded ourselves to be grateful because it could have been worse. I cried for days and it was difficult to get used to the idea that I was only me again. But Adam truly provided so much of what I needed to be able to move ahead. I struggled quite a bit with the idea that our little one was not given a proper goodbye but Adam had the most assuring response and although it was so difficult, we made it through together. We decided to name our little one and to light up one of those paper balloons that you send into the sky. Of all the memories of our first year, although it is the most sad, it also is the sweetest. Knowing that I am married to a man of character that is strong and caring and supportive is absolutely priceless and it makes celebrating our first anniversary that much sweeter.
So, to my husband, whom I love more than anything... thank you for all of our special memories. You make my life rich and beautiful every single day. I love you.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Luminous Woods
A space to breathe. To look into the sky. To let nature fill me up with a good, bright smile.
I love our woods. I've written about this place before. One of the things I love is the ever-changing face these woods present in the different seasons. Winter shocked me the most - with the barren, spiny trees that reached up, disappearing into the sullen skies. Dull and crispy leaves lay their heavy blanket on the cold earthen floor. The creek pools filled black with decomposing fallen leaves.
Somehow, though, just after the daffodils peered their sunny faces up at the end of the stalwart winter, but long after the flowering trees had dropped their blossoms, the woods bellowed out with a vibrant and swift herald. Trees burst forth with thick, luminous green that drew my eyes to the heights. Today, the branches were heavy with freshly fallen rain. I ducked under branches that bent low across the path. The air hung with a cool, refreshing humidity. I heard the stream beside me trickle, then gurgle, then spill, then rush, then tumble into the creek where one neighborhoods hill met another.
It is now when, if you walk quietly enough, you can see a raccoon whisk past and hastily climb a broad oak. And if you look into the trees just a little deeper than normal, you can see the full, white tails of the deer bounding away from the trail. Or stumble upon a box turtle waiting patiently for you to pass so he can continue on his way. Wyatt stops at the tree he knows the raccoon loves and paws at the rocks where the turtle can be found. And Butte pads along behind, happy for another trip into our favorite place.
I love our woods.
I love our woods. I've written about this place before. One of the things I love is the ever-changing face these woods present in the different seasons. Winter shocked me the most - with the barren, spiny trees that reached up, disappearing into the sullen skies. Dull and crispy leaves lay their heavy blanket on the cold earthen floor. The creek pools filled black with decomposing fallen leaves.
Somehow, though, just after the daffodils peered their sunny faces up at the end of the stalwart winter, but long after the flowering trees had dropped their blossoms, the woods bellowed out with a vibrant and swift herald. Trees burst forth with thick, luminous green that drew my eyes to the heights. Today, the branches were heavy with freshly fallen rain. I ducked under branches that bent low across the path. The air hung with a cool, refreshing humidity. I heard the stream beside me trickle, then gurgle, then spill, then rush, then tumble into the creek where one neighborhoods hill met another.
It is now when, if you walk quietly enough, you can see a raccoon whisk past and hastily climb a broad oak. And if you look into the trees just a little deeper than normal, you can see the full, white tails of the deer bounding away from the trail. Or stumble upon a box turtle waiting patiently for you to pass so he can continue on his way. Wyatt stops at the tree he knows the raccoon loves and paws at the rocks where the turtle can be found. And Butte pads along behind, happy for another trip into our favorite place.
I love our woods.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
My New Spice Jars
This post should be called, "Pinterest has me Wrapped Around its Little Finger." Every time I see beautiful pictures of yummy recipes (Homemade Chick-Fil-A Nuggets - to die for) or smartypants ideas (shredding chicken in your blender? - genius!), I want to do something all uber-homemaker.
Rad. I know. Big chunky-looking glass with burly metal clasps. I wish I knew what to equate this to in a man's brain. Maybe like a new drill or a case of IPA (hops make me gag). Anyway, these make me feel classy and like I am a really awesome cook.
I typed up some cutey little labels and pasted them on the way that all expert homemakers do it: scotch tape.
So here are four of the 44 reasons why I love these...
#1 - I can have something delightful to store my own spice blends in, OR...
#2 - I can fit a whole jar of McCormick's spices in there.
Seriously. How could these be more perfect? Oh, I know. They are 4.5 ounces and are $2 each at Crate and Barrel Outlet. Love them.
So, one afternoon while Adam was out, I decided to become freakishly obsessed with my new spice jars. Now, these aren't just any old spice jars. These are the Cherry Coke of spice jars... or the Cinnamon Sugar Donuts of spice jars - the fresh, hot, melty donuts that make you feel a moment of heaven. Mmmmmm. So I washed them and dried them and oogled them all afternoon.
Here they are:
Here they are:
Rad. I know. Big chunky-looking glass with burly metal clasps. I wish I knew what to equate this to in a man's brain. Maybe like a new drill or a case of IPA (hops make me gag). Anyway, these make me feel classy and like I am a really awesome cook.
I typed up some cutey little labels and pasted them on the way that all expert homemakers do it: scotch tape.
So here are four of the 44 reasons why I love these...
#1 - I can have something delightful to store my own spice blends in, OR...
#2 - I can fit a whole jar of McCormick's spices in there.
#3 - I can fit my BigMama tablespoon inside. This lady has been around longer than I have. She deserves some room.
#4 - Check out the silicon on these bad boys. Nothing is getting through that seal.
Seriously. How could these be more perfect? Oh, I know. They are 4.5 ounces and are $2 each at Crate and Barrel Outlet. Love them.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
The Mediocre Stall
I've been an avid Everything-ist for a number of years. By this, I mean I have loved climbing and mountain biking and hiking and cooking and playing guitar and triathlons and skiing and yoga and road biking and scrapbooking. All of these things bring joy to my life in various ways. I feel a degree of accomplishment with each of these, too. Every one of these things I have delved into at various points in my life, forsaking all others to focus heavily on one or the other. But soon, my mind wanders to one of the other activities and I begin obsessing about the next wonderful thing.
Once I spend a couple months focusing on one, I feel confident and capable and above-average... and then this all goes away because I move on to something new. What has ended up happening is I am very mediocre at all of these. In fact, sometimes I feel like I downright suck at some of them. It makes me sad. I am beginning to think that I really want to be VERY good at something.
I like liking all these things. But I want to know everything about one of these and to have a high degree of skill in just one. It's just that... I don't know which one. I should probably choose one that I can do for the rest of my life. Yoga. And road biking. I will do those forever. But then in the winter, maybe I can focus on skiing. I don't know.
One of these days I will decide.
Once I spend a couple months focusing on one, I feel confident and capable and above-average... and then this all goes away because I move on to something new. What has ended up happening is I am very mediocre at all of these. In fact, sometimes I feel like I downright suck at some of them. It makes me sad. I am beginning to think that I really want to be VERY good at something.
I like liking all these things. But I want to know everything about one of these and to have a high degree of skill in just one. It's just that... I don't know which one. I should probably choose one that I can do for the rest of my life. Yoga. And road biking. I will do those forever. But then in the winter, maybe I can focus on skiing. I don't know.
One of these days I will decide.
Friday, November 4, 2011
The Very Happiest Day
The day, September 24th, was a remarkable day. It had snowed in Breckenridge the weekend before, but when we arrived, the weather was absolutely perfect. The temperature was in the low to mid-60's. The sun was out and the trees were beginning to change. Lots of people had come into town that weekend to see the beautiful weather and many strangers ended up being guests at our very special wedding.
The weekend had been so busy with so many loved ones around. Everyone worked so hard to make our wedding wishes come true. We had family preparing the rehearsal dinner, folks hanging paper lanterns in the reception room, and bridesmaids searching Breckenridge for the perfect wedding townie bike.
I shuffled from one event to the next and all of a sudden it was the afternoon of our wedding day. And I was alone. I walked down Main Street wearing a summery halter dress and trailing my veil from a bag I carried over my shoulder. The cool breeze and hot fall sun made me super happy. I stopped to get a sandwich at the patisserie, a bottle of wine at the the liquor store, and a toy for Wyatt at the pet store.
The people of Breckenridge made this day so
marvelous. The man at the liquor store added a little bonus to my bag. The tourists smiled and waved as we passed by in our wedding garb. The man in the rickshaw offered to pedal me to the ceremony site... right up to my dear grandfather who was waiting to walk me down the aisle. Their kindness was too much for me to take in that moment.
I walked across the bridge at the Riverwalk with my grandfather who handed me off to my father who walked me down to Adam. We got married right at the stone steps that overlook the Blue River. The sun was in its full glory, lighting up the trees and giving the perfect glow to my veil. The sunlight glistened off the water and I had never felt such a beautiful day before in all my life. Townspeople and tourists gathered at the opposite side of the bank to witness our ceremony. It was truly remarkable.
Eric, our pastor, gave a very touching closing remark at the end of the ceremony. One that I will always remember. And after a very joyous kiss and backwards dip, we left the ceremony site as man and wife. All of our completely wonderful friends and family followed through with our request to bring silly props: wax lips, feather boas, patriotic hats, funny sunglasses; and we headed around for a loop of Breckenridge. It was such a fun way to start off the party - we love-love-loved it.
Adam and I snuck away to a grassy hill and sat together for a wonderful moment before we came in to the reception. We ate and danced and toasted and I smashed cake in my love's face. And it was a wonderful, wonderful day. Many thanks to all the very, very special people who made our wedding such a delight. We love you and miss you every single day.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Rain, Rain, Rain
Well, today we are on day four of rain. For the most part, the rain has come and gone, but I would be surprised if it has been any longer than 90 minutes without a steady rain. This is very strange to me. I am used to afternoon rains and evening rains. I am perfectly happy during those typical Colorado rains-while-the-sun's-out rains. This is a rain I am entirely not used to.
Today it was different. Sediment has piled up on the upstream side of footbridges. Water no longer flows underneath, but over the footbridges. Last time we walked over these bridges, there was a two to three foot drop on either side. Normally, these footbridges just see a trickle of water flowing underneath just after a rain. I wish these pictures were better, but they were taken with my soggy wet phone.
Entire hillsides were washed downstream. Massive trees that grew along the banks now have sediment washed away around them and many have fallen. This fallen tree is gigantic. I would bet it is 40 feet tall. Wyatt and I crawled over and under branches to make our way to the other side.
The rain changed from a sprinkle to a steady rain and I got nervous about flash floods. We were moving downhill towards the river. I've not ever been exposed to this kind of impact from a storm.
It's very strange and yet, it's only a tiny example of the damage that happens in bigger storms. I am not sure I could ever fathom the damage from Hurricane Katrina or from the earthquakes in Haiti or Japan or the tornado that hit Joplin. It's amazing and terrifying all at once.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
The Virginia Life... AKA The New Normal
Having been in Virginia now for just over a month, I feel more established and ready to proceed with the things that are required for Virginia living. It is clear that living here requires me to expand my definition of living a bit. I suppose that's part of the essence of being human... adaptation. Part of this new definition involves living in a completely new area and some of it is based on my new life with Adam.
The New Normal still involves being me and loving the things that I love, but a few changes here and there have made it nice to be here.
* Across the street, we go each night to walk the dog and to see the three baby fawns that lost their mother earlier this week. They are small and quiet and they always stay together. They graze in the empty baseball field just above the wooded nature trail.
* We frequent our favorite restaurant (so far), conveniently 1/3 mile from our house. Kanjana Thai serves a to-die-for Tom Kha soup. A creamy, sweet, spicy, and sour soup with mushrooms, chicken, and coconut milk. Ignoring the fact that the signs for women's and men's bathrooms are slightly inappropriate, it is a beacon of happiness in our neighborhood.
* On Thursdays, a group of seemingly adult 20-somethings with sweat bands across their brow meet under the power lines near our house to engage in epic battles with shields and padded battery sticks. They are the sort that you could imagine engaging in a life of video game challenges. Some of them have the ultimate weapon... a sort of stick with a padded ball at the end of a rope. A medieval flail it is called. The ice cream man always stops by to watch and to pad his wallet. It's entertainment.
* A beautiful new television sits mostly off. It's nice, actually. We don't have cable and have been able to spend more time with fitness and making wedding preparations and just sharing our new life together.
* Starting a new life with Adam has encouraged me to bump up the responsibility I accept for my own life. I am staying on top of bills and have actually attended doctor's appointments for me and for Wyatt. Strange that I am almost 32 and it took moving here to accomplish that.
* I haven't rushed here. In Colorado, my life was full of responsibilities and commitments. I rushed from one thing to the next with barely any time to be intentional about my actions or words. My main concern was just getting everything done. Here, I can even take time to plan meals and to cook. The new normal involves having a shelf in my refrigerator which holds everything that we want to eat soon before it spoils. Some might call it Type A. I just call it a refreshing new way to organize. I've even bathed my dog twice this month.
* I was told when I moved here, I would spend time talking about the best way to get somewhere. Boy, is that true! I take one way to work and a different way home from work to try to avoid the ever-so-dreaded and frightfully common traffic backup.
* Checking the weather has never been so important to me as it is here. I change my plans based on the heat. Heat almost never prevented me from what I wanted to do in Colorado. Here, the new normal includes following the heat's advice of when to come outside and when to just hole up inside.
These are just some of the wonderful things involved in our new life in Virginia. I am excited to add to it. It's a beautiful life.
The New Normal still involves being me and loving the things that I love, but a few changes here and there have made it nice to be here.
* Across the street, we go each night to walk the dog and to see the three baby fawns that lost their mother earlier this week. They are small and quiet and they always stay together. They graze in the empty baseball field just above the wooded nature trail.
* We frequent our favorite restaurant (so far), conveniently 1/3 mile from our house. Kanjana Thai serves a to-die-for Tom Kha soup. A creamy, sweet, spicy, and sour soup with mushrooms, chicken, and coconut milk. Ignoring the fact that the signs for women's and men's bathrooms are slightly inappropriate, it is a beacon of happiness in our neighborhood.
* On Thursdays, a group of seemingly adult 20-somethings with sweat bands across their brow meet under the power lines near our house to engage in epic battles with shields and padded battery sticks. They are the sort that you could imagine engaging in a life of video game challenges. Some of them have the ultimate weapon... a sort of stick with a padded ball at the end of a rope. A medieval flail it is called. The ice cream man always stops by to watch and to pad his wallet. It's entertainment.
* A beautiful new television sits mostly off. It's nice, actually. We don't have cable and have been able to spend more time with fitness and making wedding preparations and just sharing our new life together.
* Starting a new life with Adam has encouraged me to bump up the responsibility I accept for my own life. I am staying on top of bills and have actually attended doctor's appointments for me and for Wyatt. Strange that I am almost 32 and it took moving here to accomplish that.
* I haven't rushed here. In Colorado, my life was full of responsibilities and commitments. I rushed from one thing to the next with barely any time to be intentional about my actions or words. My main concern was just getting everything done. Here, I can even take time to plan meals and to cook. The new normal involves having a shelf in my refrigerator which holds everything that we want to eat soon before it spoils. Some might call it Type A. I just call it a refreshing new way to organize. I've even bathed my dog twice this month.
* I was told when I moved here, I would spend time talking about the best way to get somewhere. Boy, is that true! I take one way to work and a different way home from work to try to avoid the ever-so-dreaded and frightfully common traffic backup.
* Checking the weather has never been so important to me as it is here. I change my plans based on the heat. Heat almost never prevented me from what I wanted to do in Colorado. Here, the new normal includes following the heat's advice of when to come outside and when to just hole up inside.
These are just some of the wonderful things involved in our new life in Virginia. I am excited to add to it. It's a beautiful life.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Home
I've always been enamored by the thought of "home".
You know how musicians create moments of tension... dissonance? It's that moment that harmonies clash. The balance between this dissonance and a more stable consonance is one of the things that makes music so intriguing. The resolution of that conflict is gorgeous. This is how I feel about home. All the challenges of the day have been fought - the unchosen strife or self-imposed contests, and home is the place where all is resolved. You are comfortable and nourished. You have a cozy place to rest and loved ones close by.
I have been in Virginia now for a week. The food is exceptional. I love it that chain restaurants are in the minority. I love the rivers and bays that are so close by. I love the history of the area and the wonderful patriotism. There are good things and so many more to discover. I remember the first time Adam I took the metro to King Street. It was wonderful... drizzly with the streets lit up so beautifully. Delicious crab cakes and brews at a local tavern with live bluegrass. Lovely.
Now, Colorado. It's hard not to be sad about having left. In Colorado, there is something called fresh air that I miss very much. I can't quite figure it out, but Virginia smells different. Maybe it is the humidity or the lush trees. All I can say is that I would pay money every day to breathe the cool, dry, piney air of Colorado.
The roads here are different, too. Very few roads run just two cardinal directions. Most go north and south in certain places and east and west in others. Many change names multiple times and when you think a road might have ended, you just take a left and pick it back up a quarter mile or so down the road. Often, you will turn off of a road to stay on it. In Colorado, for the most part, there is one main way that you would take to get somewhere. Here, there are three or four main ways you could get somewhere and another five alternate routes you could take and all of those will be congested. I do love the trees here. They are everywhere. But this also means that most of the roadways look the same. Unless there is a building right up along the road, you can pretty much guarantee that trees will obscure it all. It makes it that much harder to navigate.
Last, the Colorado music scene is incredible. I don't think I realized this until I left. Especially summer. You can guarantee Colorado will be packed with amazing artists all summer long. Here, there are lots of venues, but a different type of musician comes here. I miss it. Lots.
It doesn't feel like home yet. I don't think it ever will. Regardless, I will eat up every minute of this place, loving it as much as I can until I leave.
You know how musicians create moments of tension... dissonance? It's that moment that harmonies clash. The balance between this dissonance and a more stable consonance is one of the things that makes music so intriguing. The resolution of that conflict is gorgeous. This is how I feel about home. All the challenges of the day have been fought - the unchosen strife or self-imposed contests, and home is the place where all is resolved. You are comfortable and nourished. You have a cozy place to rest and loved ones close by.
I have been in Virginia now for a week. The food is exceptional. I love it that chain restaurants are in the minority. I love the rivers and bays that are so close by. I love the history of the area and the wonderful patriotism. There are good things and so many more to discover. I remember the first time Adam I took the metro to King Street. It was wonderful... drizzly with the streets lit up so beautifully. Delicious crab cakes and brews at a local tavern with live bluegrass. Lovely.
Now, Colorado. It's hard not to be sad about having left. In Colorado, there is something called fresh air that I miss very much. I can't quite figure it out, but Virginia smells different. Maybe it is the humidity or the lush trees. All I can say is that I would pay money every day to breathe the cool, dry, piney air of Colorado.
The roads here are different, too. Very few roads run just two cardinal directions. Most go north and south in certain places and east and west in others. Many change names multiple times and when you think a road might have ended, you just take a left and pick it back up a quarter mile or so down the road. Often, you will turn off of a road to stay on it. In Colorado, for the most part, there is one main way that you would take to get somewhere. Here, there are three or four main ways you could get somewhere and another five alternate routes you could take and all of those will be congested. I do love the trees here. They are everywhere. But this also means that most of the roadways look the same. Unless there is a building right up along the road, you can pretty much guarantee that trees will obscure it all. It makes it that much harder to navigate.
Last, the Colorado music scene is incredible. I don't think I realized this until I left. Especially summer. You can guarantee Colorado will be packed with amazing artists all summer long. Here, there are lots of venues, but a different type of musician comes here. I miss it. Lots.
It doesn't feel like home yet. I don't think it ever will. Regardless, I will eat up every minute of this place, loving it as much as I can until I leave.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Lucky Lady!
Since mid-March, life has flown by and I've neglected to mention the most exciting news of all. Adam and I are engaged! My love asked me to marry him on March 24 while we were walking along the National Mall, right at the foot of the Washington Monument. Adam had the ring sent to the hotel. He suggested we go to see the monuments lit up, so we took the Metro to DC and ran between the monuments. We only had a short time until the Metro stopped running, so we had to move it. It was a wonderful evening. We celebrated our engagement at the Hard Times Cafe near our house. It was the only place open and the name made us laugh.
I really should be more eloquent about the whole event, but what I really want to say is how wonderful Adam is. I am far too blessed for words. Adam is an incredible man... consistent, dedicated, wise, loving, gentle, encouraging. He has strong morals. He is patriotic and adventurous. He is athletic and positive. I am excited for the life ahead and incredibly thrilled to be spending it with Adam.
I am a lucky, lucky girl.
I really should be more eloquent about the whole event, but what I really want to say is how wonderful Adam is. I am far too blessed for words. Adam is an incredible man... consistent, dedicated, wise, loving, gentle, encouraging. He has strong morals. He is patriotic and adventurous. He is athletic and positive. I am excited for the life ahead and incredibly thrilled to be spending it with Adam.
I am a lucky, lucky girl.
Leaving It Behind
I walked out the door today, arms filled with a box of assorted office what-cha-ma-call-its, a treasured book, a picture of me and my dear Adam, and a little vase filled with three beautiful fake flowers that has kept my desk cheerful and maintenance-free for the last six years. It really just seems like any other day today. But it's not. Today is tearfully different. Today is the day I say goodbye to the school that lead to my growth as a teacher. It's the school that saw me through a rough patch and watched me meet my soon-to-be husband. It's the school that I poured heart and soul into for six wonderful years.
I couldn't let go of the feeling that I was leaving something behind. I looked up and down the hallways and although I could see nothing that I was forgetting to take with me, the weighted feeling that I was missing something important remained. I went to complete my last task - boxing up some paperwork that was to be shredded. And I realized it was the final mission I would take on for this school.
I've taken on a number of missions, miniscule and monumental, for this organization. Some I couldn't wait to have off my plate and some I heartfully struggled to step away from. It is important to me that my efforts make a positive impact on a school and not just a little impact, but a huge, lasting, magnificent crater.
And with this thought, I realized what I was leaving behind. I was leaving behind myself. It was nothing that I could wrap in tissue paper or package in bubble wrap. It was nothing that I could take away from this school at all. It was the contribution left by hours of dedication and love for the students of this place. Through my bleary eyes, I realized that the magnificent moments that changed my heart and the hearts of my students... the beautiful moments in which a student believed that maybe something difficult was actually possible and that it was within them to achieve it... were what I left. These moments travel on in my mind, in my heart, and in the hearts and minds of my incredible students. I'm grateful that these moments live on and I can only hope that they will be magnified by the choices of my kids.
The next chapter is vague and unknown. But this is one thing that will continue no matter where I go. I want my life to publish hope. Always.
I couldn't let go of the feeling that I was leaving something behind. I looked up and down the hallways and although I could see nothing that I was forgetting to take with me, the weighted feeling that I was missing something important remained. I went to complete my last task - boxing up some paperwork that was to be shredded. And I realized it was the final mission I would take on for this school.
I've taken on a number of missions, miniscule and monumental, for this organization. Some I couldn't wait to have off my plate and some I heartfully struggled to step away from. It is important to me that my efforts make a positive impact on a school and not just a little impact, but a huge, lasting, magnificent crater.
And with this thought, I realized what I was leaving behind. I was leaving behind myself. It was nothing that I could wrap in tissue paper or package in bubble wrap. It was nothing that I could take away from this school at all. It was the contribution left by hours of dedication and love for the students of this place. Through my bleary eyes, I realized that the magnificent moments that changed my heart and the hearts of my students... the beautiful moments in which a student believed that maybe something difficult was actually possible and that it was within them to achieve it... were what I left. These moments travel on in my mind, in my heart, and in the hearts and minds of my incredible students. I'm grateful that these moments live on and I can only hope that they will be magnified by the choices of my kids.
The next chapter is vague and unknown. But this is one thing that will continue no matter where I go. I want my life to publish hope. Always.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Sweet Satisfaction
They say that satisfaction comes from a hard day's work. True. That's a pounding and thrilling feeling. That's an entirely unique form of satisfaction.
But, there is no satisfaction quite like the satisfaction that comes from a crispy, steamy-hot plate of fries and a refreshing, creamy-cool shake. Salty all along the edges and warm starchy deliciousness of seasoned potatoes bursting from inside. And JUST before it tips over to dry or too salty... the heavenly chill of sugary, smooth creaminess. It's envigorating!
Satisfaction. What is it anyway? Contentment. The little "aahhhhh" after whatever grumble existed. But you can't forget that little grumble, right? If you forget it, then the satisfaction isn't quite what it could be. It's like knowing the breath of winter after the burn of summer or the touch of silence after the brutal scratch of a turbulent room. You have to remember the burn.
When things get really wonderful, and satisfaction sets in, forgetting the burn makes you lose the full wonder of the wonderful. Perspective. The adventure is so much more rich with all of it wrapped up in one exquisite box.
But, there is no satisfaction quite like the satisfaction that comes from a crispy, steamy-hot plate of fries and a refreshing, creamy-cool shake. Salty all along the edges and warm starchy deliciousness of seasoned potatoes bursting from inside. And JUST before it tips over to dry or too salty... the heavenly chill of sugary, smooth creaminess. It's envigorating!
Satisfaction. What is it anyway? Contentment. The little "aahhhhh" after whatever grumble existed. But you can't forget that little grumble, right? If you forget it, then the satisfaction isn't quite what it could be. It's like knowing the breath of winter after the burn of summer or the touch of silence after the brutal scratch of a turbulent room. You have to remember the burn.
When things get really wonderful, and satisfaction sets in, forgetting the burn makes you lose the full wonder of the wonderful. Perspective. The adventure is so much more rich with all of it wrapped up in one exquisite box.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
DC Adventure Begins
Well, we made it 1,691 miles across the country driving a 16-foot moving van and pulling our very Colorado blue Subaru behind. There was no mistaking us for any mid-western city folk. We had three pairs of skis in the ski rack and two pretty rocking mountain bikes hanging off the back. There was no doubt. We are from Colorado.
This has been a huge mix of emotion for me. I am leaving everything. Everything except Adam. Because of this, there is a pile of excitement, a bushel of sadness, and a boatload of nervous expectation. It's hard to anticipate what any new experience will do with my psyche. I jumped in the Subaru as we pulled into Virginia - Adam driving the van as we left the car trailer behind in Frederick, MD.
I was super excited to change the clock in the Soob to eastern time and I scrolled through the radio stations to program the very best of 80's hits and bluegrass and classic rock. I didn't find a suitable KBCO substitute... yet. Nor will I, I imagine. This whole suiting-the-car-up-for-Virginia-living had a positive vibe to it.
Adam and I pulled into town, drove through the new neighborhood, met with our landlord, and headed out to find what we may decide to call our little corner of town. We jumped on the Metro (I say that cautiously... everything new takes precision and thoughtfulness)and decided to get off at King Street. The delicate white lights adorning the trees called us off the train. In fact, we passed the stop and came back to it because it was so appealing. We wandered down the puddle-patterned streets until we hit Tiffany Tavern. We'd read about it in the Lonely Planet guide to Washington, DC and decided to duck inside to have fish and chips and a crabcake sandwich. We were not let down. A small six-piece bluegrass band was set up at the front. The bar was filled with lone business travelers and east coast locals. The bricks and dark wooden beams showed all of the building's 120 years.
I ordered a Smithwick's, which I found out later at seedy little O'Shaugnessy's is correctly prounounced Smiddick's. It truly was a delightful way to spend our first night in DC. But for whatever reason, perhaps it was the familiar hum of bluegrass or the feeling of miles between me and my home, I got choked up. That's the polite way to say I pretty much bawled. It wasn't anything in particular I was thinking of... other than that I'm leaving my Colorado home. My quirky family, my unforgettable friends, my altitude, my microbrews, my raindrops on sunny days, my piles of snow, my abrupt Spring and Fall, my job, my students, my ski seasons, my mountain towns, my simple transit. Everything. Of course I will miss the Colorado people I love the most... my pillars of strength and my blankets of comfort.
I know there will be more adventures to have and more places to love and more friends to laugh with. But it's not that easy. You got to let go of allllllll of that awesomeness and bankrupt yourself for a little bit until you've got a little start to a foundation in a new place. I am not excited about that. I am excited, however, to start a life with the man I love. I am excited to learn a new place with him and to dream up new dreams and find ourselves in wonderful new places. We are lucky to have found each other and I can't wait to spend my days with him.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Pet Peeve #2
Dear Long Hair Football Players:
You are totally disgusting. Your gross hair repulses me. I don't understand why you can't take your job seriously enough to keep a normal length of hair. Clay Matthews, I am talking to you. You were just on Leno and I wanted to rip your hair out of your scalp. You twirled it all around and when you whipped it back over your face, I saw your gross manly face peering out from long luxurious locks and I threw up in my mouth. Troy Polamalu, I am talking to you. I can't even imagine what foul creatures must be lurking behind those curls. You are repugnant and I wish some hoodlums would jump you and remove your hair with scissors.
You are totally disgusting. Your gross hair repulses me. I don't understand why you can't take your job seriously enough to keep a normal length of hair. Clay Matthews, I am talking to you. You were just on Leno and I wanted to rip your hair out of your scalp. You twirled it all around and when you whipped it back over your face, I saw your gross manly face peering out from long luxurious locks and I threw up in my mouth. Troy Polamalu, I am talking to you. I can't even imagine what foul creatures must be lurking behind those curls. You are repugnant and I wish some hoodlums would jump you and remove your hair with scissors.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Looming
I used to lick the ice cream out of the bottom of my bowl. I wanted all the goodness. The yummy sweet delicious drops of melty, melty lllmmmmmuuhhh.
Therefore, it's hard for me to admit that I believe that really, really crappy things are bound to happen. Why do I think this? It's all these underlying ideas that linger around unpondered. Every now and then, this undetected anxiety pops up. It's like watching a scary movie. The music turns dark, someone wanders around ignorant of looming danger, and BOOM! Something terrible happens.
Of course, it's the hard times that make the sweet times that much sweeter. And I know what hard times are like. I know that they broaden your perspective. I know that your life becomes richer. I just don't want any more. And I don't want to feel like something is right around the corner.
I guess you take the good with the bad. Isn't that from The Facts of Life? I am in what I consider to be a good long stretch of good and I don't want anything to mess it up.
Therefore, it's hard for me to admit that I believe that really, really crappy things are bound to happen. Why do I think this? It's all these underlying ideas that linger around unpondered. Every now and then, this undetected anxiety pops up. It's like watching a scary movie. The music turns dark, someone wanders around ignorant of looming danger, and BOOM! Something terrible happens.
Of course, it's the hard times that make the sweet times that much sweeter. And I know what hard times are like. I know that they broaden your perspective. I know that your life becomes richer. I just don't want any more. And I don't want to feel like something is right around the corner.
I guess you take the good with the bad. Isn't that from The Facts of Life? I am in what I consider to be a good long stretch of good and I don't want anything to mess it up.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Success
Being a teacher is interesting. I had begun getting frustrated with how poorly we pay teachers - especially good teachers. Good teachers are worth at least double their salary, and poor teachers about half. But Adam says we are public servants. What that means to me is that less of our reward is in the paycheck and more of it lies in seeing others meet challenges, seeing them succeed. And that's true.
I've never gotten emotional over a paycheck.
But I HAVE gotten emotional over seeing my students rise to the occasion. In my seven years of teaching, I have seen a number of students hit a wall. Frustration mounting. And suddenly, they pop up over the top of the wall. That feeling of success does not go away. That is lasting. I would hope that those experiences stick with my students in a way that it begins to define them. I want them to know that a challenge is a regular, expected life event and that each time they come up against a challenge, hard work and perseverance will win. And that they would begin to define their lives as successful, growing people.
I began storing these tales of success in my memory. Stacking each story next to the one before. But they are beginning to moosh together. So here is success story number one:
I have a student who struggles in reading. She was scoring about a year and a half behind her grade level. Sometimes there is a quick fix for academic issues. But sometimes these issues respond to obscure solutions... and finding that solution is like finding a needle in a haystack. I hoped that something would click with her, and it appeared like it had. So, I gave her an assessment. Her assessment showed no growth from the previous year. How could this be? NO growth? We had been working so hard. I began to feel ineffective and hopeless. I can only imagine what she must have been feeling. I didn't want to believe that no growth had taken place, so I administered the tests again, this time having her use the strategies we used in our reading group. She FLEW through it. Not just with partial success but with full, bold, torrential success. I took the assessments to her classroom teacher and I could barely manage to show the results without getting choked up. Something WORKED. And it isn't just working on assessments, it's working in her LIFE. And that is what matters. A shining beam of success to motivate her to not give up. Glorious.
And that's why I love my job.
I've never gotten emotional over a paycheck.
But I HAVE gotten emotional over seeing my students rise to the occasion. In my seven years of teaching, I have seen a number of students hit a wall. Frustration mounting. And suddenly, they pop up over the top of the wall. That feeling of success does not go away. That is lasting. I would hope that those experiences stick with my students in a way that it begins to define them. I want them to know that a challenge is a regular, expected life event and that each time they come up against a challenge, hard work and perseverance will win. And that they would begin to define their lives as successful, growing people.
I began storing these tales of success in my memory. Stacking each story next to the one before. But they are beginning to moosh together. So here is success story number one:
I have a student who struggles in reading. She was scoring about a year and a half behind her grade level. Sometimes there is a quick fix for academic issues. But sometimes these issues respond to obscure solutions... and finding that solution is like finding a needle in a haystack. I hoped that something would click with her, and it appeared like it had. So, I gave her an assessment. Her assessment showed no growth from the previous year. How could this be? NO growth? We had been working so hard. I began to feel ineffective and hopeless. I can only imagine what she must have been feeling. I didn't want to believe that no growth had taken place, so I administered the tests again, this time having her use the strategies we used in our reading group. She FLEW through it. Not just with partial success but with full, bold, torrential success. I took the assessments to her classroom teacher and I could barely manage to show the results without getting choked up. Something WORKED. And it isn't just working on assessments, it's working in her LIFE. And that is what matters. A shining beam of success to motivate her to not give up. Glorious.
And that's why I love my job.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
On the Brink
Well, here it is 2011. Insane, right? You know what this means? 2022 is just around the corner. 2011 is here and it's bringing with it all sorts of crazy action. I am right on the brink of so many changes. I am poised to get my administrators license so I'm thinking about jobs and whether I think I'm capable or not. I used to be so confident and now I don't know for sure. I'm looking forward to the changes of 2011. They're all scary. And they're all exciting. It's the not-knowing that's so scary, but the fright I have is worth all the possibilities that might be.
I'm very excited. I'm inches from getting my Master's. I have a great job and a fantastic family. And I'm in love. It's all quite good.
I'm very excited. I'm inches from getting my Master's. I have a great job and a fantastic family. And I'm in love. It's all quite good.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Glenwood Triathlon
Well, I did it. I am a triathlete.
On September 11, Adam and I spent the day in Glenwood Springs looking at the route. Adam repaired the brakes on his road bike. We drove up I-70 along the bike route and we biked the run route. We went to the hot springs pool and swam some laps. And this is where Adam learned that I have never learned to dive.
In Adam's opinion, I am not to be considered as a potential mate unless I know how to dive. So... he taught me. It seriously was difficult to get comfortable with the idea of toppling upside down as my body hurtles through the air. I don't care if I AM landing in water. It didn't feel right. Anyway, after twenty or so various jumps, leaps, and falls into the water, I did it.
The next morning, we got up early and ate peanut butter and banana wraps, drank coffee, made sure we pooped (this is very important to do, which is why it's worth mentioning) and got our bags packed up to head to our transition. My start time was 7:45 and Adam's was 8:35.
We entered transition, set our bikes up and laid out our towels below. I set out my clothes for the transitions and made sure I taped some nutrition to my bike. We checked in and got our body markings and it was time to start! I awkwardly put on my swim cap and found my start position in the pool.
The swim was exciting! I didn't get kicked and punched as much as I thought I would. The swim was pretty smooth. I found out later that I was in a huge pack of swimmers... our heat didn't spread out as much as it probably should have. The first half lap was rough. I was trying to get used to the feeling of being in a big pack of people. I tried to maximize my stroke, but I didn't feel like I was getting the output that I was getting when I practiced alone in a lane. Before I knew it, I was on the seventh length of the 100+ meter pool. I momentarily freaked out, not remembering if I was on the last length, so I yelled for Adam and at first, he told me to go another lap. But he chased me down and let me know that it really was my last length.
The transition was ok. I wanted to get dried off so I could put my bike/run tank on, but it still got all twisted. I think I will probably just swim in it next time. Although, it was pretty cold that morning. I had some water and rinsed the mineral water off my face and arms. The day before, we had noticed how itchy it was, so I was glad to get it off my skin before the bike. The bike was awesome. Besides almost falling over when I got on it, it was smooth. We biked up I-70 for 7.5 miles. I got to the turn-around 20 minutes after I started, which was WAY faster than I thought it should have been. I remember seeing the exit for the turn-around and thinking how nice it would be to have the wind at my back for the return ride. I don't know what I was thinking because as soon as I turned around, the wind was crazy in my face. The entire way back, there was no rest from the wind. And as Adam had decided from our car ride the day before - the bike was uphill on the way back to Glenwood. I came within about a mile of the exit and saw Adam starting his bike portion. I have to admit, I had thought of messing with his back brake to slow him down, but decided against it. Tee-hee. I'm no cheater. That's for sure.
As I came into transition two, I realized I couldn't feel my toes and my legs were a little shaky. But I changed quickly into my running shoes and headed out. I had tried to eat while on the bike, but the gummy things I had were too chewy, so I really didn't end up eating much of anything at all during the race. The first third of a mile was all uphill and it certainly felt weird after having gotten off the bike. I ran over the bridge over I-70, circled the block of the Hotel Denver, getting a quick look at the finish line. I ran fairly well. There were two times I stopped to walk for one minute, but other than that, I felt fantastic. The run went so well. I was so excited coming into the finish.
a>This was the culmination of months of hard work. Of learning to use powerful strokes in the swim. Of practicing how to hold my body on the bike. Of mile after mile of forcing myself to run. Of learning to hold my hips higher in the water and to breathe and to streamline my body position. And this right here was it. I thought back to the last two hours and 14 minutes of the race and it seemed like I had only just started. I was energetic and excited. And I knew then that if I could, I would go back and push a little harder. I would try to get out of that pack of swimmers. I would get that first transition faster. And I would push it a little more on the run. But the overwhelming feeling was that I had worked hard. It had nothing to do with anyone else. Just my own drive and my own motivation to learn something new and to do well. And here I was. I did it.
I have never felt like that. I am extremely proud of all the hard work I put into achieving such an unfamiliar goal. And now I can't stop. I am thrilled to do my next one. I ended up 91st out of 140-some women. And out of 28 first-timers, I was 14th. Not bad. I was fairly competitive with some of my times. I know I can get every leg faster. I'm hoping to get within the top 33% next time. I will do it. That's for sure.
On September 11, Adam and I spent the day in Glenwood Springs looking at the route. Adam repaired the brakes on his road bike. We drove up I-70 along the bike route and we biked the run route. We went to the hot springs pool and swam some laps. And this is where Adam learned that I have never learned to dive.
In Adam's opinion, I am not to be considered as a potential mate unless I know how to dive. So... he taught me. It seriously was difficult to get comfortable with the idea of toppling upside down as my body hurtles through the air. I don't care if I AM landing in water. It didn't feel right. Anyway, after twenty or so various jumps, leaps, and falls into the water, I did it.
The next morning, we got up early and ate peanut butter and banana wraps, drank coffee, made sure we pooped (this is very important to do, which is why it's worth mentioning) and got our bags packed up to head to our transition. My start time was 7:45 and Adam's was 8:35. We entered transition, set our bikes up and laid out our towels below. I set out my clothes for the transitions and made sure I taped some nutrition to my bike. We checked in and got our body markings and it was time to start! I awkwardly put on my swim cap and found my start position in the pool.
The swim was exciting! I didn't get kicked and punched as much as I thought I would. The swim was pretty smooth. I found out later that I was in a huge pack of swimmers... our heat didn't spread out as much as it probably should have. The first half lap was rough. I was trying to get used to the feeling of being in a big pack of people. I tried to maximize my stroke, but I didn't feel like I was getting the output that I was getting when I practiced alone in a lane. Before I knew it, I was on the seventh length of the 100+ meter pool. I momentarily freaked out, not remembering if I was on the last length, so I yelled for Adam and at first, he told me to go another lap. But he chased me down and let me know that it really was my last length. 
The transition was ok. I wanted to get dried off so I could put my bike/run tank on, but it still got all twisted. I think I will probably just swim in it next time. Although, it was pretty cold that morning. I had some water and rinsed the mineral water off my face and arms. The day before, we had noticed how itchy it was, so I was glad to get it off my skin before the bike. The bike was awesome. Besides almost falling over when I got on it, it was smooth. We biked up I-70 for 7.5 miles. I got to the turn-around 20 minutes after I started, which was WAY faster than I thought it should have been. I remember seeing the exit for the turn-around and thinking how nice it would be to have the wind at my back for the return ride. I don't know what I was thinking because as soon as I turned around, the wind was crazy in my face. The entire way back, there was no rest from the wind. And as Adam had decided from our car ride the day before - the bike was uphill on the way back to Glenwood. I came within about a mile of the exit and saw Adam starting his bike portion. I have to admit, I had thought of messing with his back brake to slow him down, but decided against it. Tee-hee. I'm no cheater. That's for sure.
As I came into transition two, I realized I couldn't feel my toes and my legs were a little shaky. But I changed quickly into my running shoes and headed out. I had tried to eat while on the bike, but the gummy things I had were too chewy, so I really didn't end up eating much of anything at all during the race. The first third of a mile was all uphill and it certainly felt weird after having gotten off the bike. I ran over the bridge over I-70, circled the block of the Hotel Denver, getting a quick look at the finish line. I ran fairly well. There were two times I stopped to walk for one minute, but other than that, I felt fantastic. The run went so well. I was so excited coming into the finish.
a>This was the culmination of months of hard work. Of learning to use powerful strokes in the swim. Of practicing how to hold my body on the bike. Of mile after mile of forcing myself to run. Of learning to hold my hips higher in the water and to breathe and to streamline my body position. And this right here was it. I thought back to the last two hours and 14 minutes of the race and it seemed like I had only just started. I was energetic and excited. And I knew then that if I could, I would go back and push a little harder. I would try to get out of that pack of swimmers. I would get that first transition faster. And I would push it a little more on the run. But the overwhelming feeling was that I had worked hard. It had nothing to do with anyone else. Just my own drive and my own motivation to learn something new and to do well. And here I was. I did it.
I have never felt like that. I am extremely proud of all the hard work I put into achieving such an unfamiliar goal. And now I can't stop. I am thrilled to do my next one. I ended up 91st out of 140-some women. And out of 28 first-timers, I was 14th. Not bad. I was fairly competitive with some of my times. I know I can get every leg faster. I'm hoping to get within the top 33% next time. I will do it. That's for sure.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Being Alone
Being alone has its benefits and its setbacks. That's for certain. But it's recently become clear to me how some people are seriously unable to function in alone-ity. Maybe it's their personality or a way of living they've developed that works for them. To me, though, being alone is a fact of life. It's a great opportunity to challenge yourself... to learn something new... to really get to know more about what it is that makes you tick. It takes a long time to get to know yourself, I think. And when we cloud that up with being with other people non-stop, we miss out on great opportunities to grow.
I'm not saying I'm a recluse. I love being around other people. Being alone too much isn't great for me. But neither is being with people all the time. What makes me tick is a healthy balance of the two.
What it comes down to for me is this: we simply aren't guaranteed that anyone will be by our side at any point in our lives. Any person I hold dear can be taken from me in an instant. It's happened before. It will happen again. It's just how life is. So, it's important to establish a healthy independence. To be alone. And present in the moment. To stretch outside of our comfort zones.
This weekend a friend of Adam's went camping by herself. Maybe there were moments of excitement or peace or fear. But there is nothing else that can teach her what this weekend may have taught her. Three cheers for Miss Reeves. Setting out to be alone and independent and to enjoy the day for what it brings. It's a lesson that I believe every female needs. A girl needs to know that even if she loses everything... she will still be just fine.
I'm not saying I'm a recluse. I love being around other people. Being alone too much isn't great for me. But neither is being with people all the time. What makes me tick is a healthy balance of the two.
What it comes down to for me is this: we simply aren't guaranteed that anyone will be by our side at any point in our lives. Any person I hold dear can be taken from me in an instant. It's happened before. It will happen again. It's just how life is. So, it's important to establish a healthy independence. To be alone. And present in the moment. To stretch outside of our comfort zones.
This weekend a friend of Adam's went camping by herself. Maybe there were moments of excitement or peace or fear. But there is nothing else that can teach her what this weekend may have taught her. Three cheers for Miss Reeves. Setting out to be alone and independent and to enjoy the day for what it brings. It's a lesson that I believe every female needs. A girl needs to know that even if she loses everything... she will still be just fine.
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