Consumerism

So, I watched TV today. I had four choices: soap opera, soap opera, soap opera, or Antiques Roadshow. So I watched Antiques Roadshow. They went into this collector's house and he was talking about all his amazing priceless collections. He has these pillars with large marble orbs on top. He has dishes that are shaped like shells and vases of a similar shape. Almost every inch of his house is covered with paintings or dishes. He has bought entire pieces of furniture to house his collections and he has tables he's bought to display his collection of boxes. His bathroom wall is covered in mounted decorative plates.

Really? Really? Do people really enjoy this? Does it make their lives more vibrant? I suppose the finding is somewhat exciting. Finding something rare and the bidding wars. That seems kind of interesting, I suppose. But to actually own it? That would drive me nuts. I can barely stand the amount of things I own now. This man could fill truckloads with the amount of shit he owns. He paid $10,000 for a set of dishes. And this set was comprised of TWO dishes!!!

I myself, am a slight junkie for a beautiful set of dishes. But what I like about it is when I prepare an amazing meal and I set the table and my friends are all around smiling and drinking and laughing. And it all makes a beautiful memory. You know, I'd set a match to that place in no time flat and I wouldn't shed a tear. How do people get that way? I wonder if they have any perspective at all. I would wonder what my simple $10,000 gift could have done for someone who is struggling to pay for an education. Or for a little family who is fighting to pay their mortgage. I wonder if I'll be able to make those decisions someday... "Set of dishes with painted insects... or amazing vacation for me and my family... or give someone else a foot to stand on..."

Disney World... you know what I saw there? A Christmas ornament. A Mickey Christmas ornament in the shape and color of a Jack O'Lantern. Who wants that?!? Insane.

I Love My Days

Today was so stellar!!! I taught guitar all day and ran home to show my house. This GREAT lady seems to be stoked on my house, so I am really stoked to have her here. She seems wonderful. I hope it comes through so I can get my ass north where I belong. Anyway, I climbed with a new amiga, Lisa. She is such a cool woman. Super confident and working through a tough divorce. She's wonderful. And I ate dinner with Vegas. I totally dig my friends. I miss them! Tomorrow morning, Sarah and I are headed out on a hike to the Punch Bowls. I'm super psyched.

I love having days that celebrate every moment. Days that aren't dependant on what anyone else says or does. But days that are filled with people I love. I am super lucky and it makes me glad to be alive.

A Last Letter

What is it that, at the end of a life, defines it?

Is it milestones of grandeur? Or is it steps of disguised greatness? Is it the thunderous effect of one life on others? Or is it more like a ripple? A few months ago, my own mortality stood boldly in front of my face and it was an awkward moment at first. What do I do with this? Do I shake its hand... do I ignore and walk away? I considered the idea that I had only days left.

One day, no one will remember my name. No one will tell stories that I know. And that's just a simple fact of life. I am alright with not being a person that has revolutionized the world. I did not create the printing press. I have not solved the problems of a nation. But I have cared for the people that God has been generous enough to place in my life. And I believe I have loved them unceasingly. I have given bits of me and chunks of me and all of me into different areas. I hope that something I have said along the way has caused someone to think. To question. To smile. To hope. I have held a hand. I have cried. And really all that is worth remembering is anything I've done for the sake of someone else. Everything done on my behalf passes away. But I feel like the efforts I've poured into the life of another person can continue beyond me and beyond whatever simple action I performed.

Yet it's so easy to have a shallow perspective and to get caught up taking care of myself. In a year, will I even remember any of that? But I WILL remember how I loved. And I will remember the smile on the face of a friend and the gratefulness in the heart of someone else.

I wrote a letter earlier this year. I wrote it in a hurry before leaving on a trip I didn't think I would return from. It was an unusual feeling - one I had never felt before. But as I was writing, I felt rushed and like I didn't quite have the words to explain what I wanted those I love to know. Perhaps I'm ready now. And the essence of it boils down to one idea: I am aboundingly grateful that regardless of the poor choices I've made in my life, that God continues to pour blessing into my life. And the way He does it is through the people that have loved me.

Pigsty

I was just gone for about 12 days. It's a long time to be away from home! As I was coming back, I realized how much I missed my friends and how much I've been away this summer. I wouldn't say I regret it, but it's time to make a little change, I think. I need to be in town more. I adore Max. I really do. And we always have a wonderful time together. But I can't sacrifice my friendships for the sake of being in the same vicinity as Max.

I woke up this morning and realized... my room is a pigsty, my bill paying is a pigsty, my car is a pigsty, and I haven't fulfilled a few committments I set out to complete this summer. It's not good. And really, because of the hustle-bustle, I feel I am living in a typhoon and my whole life is a pigsty. I've let my connection with my God slide, too and I don't feel ANYTHING stable in my life. Nothing. It's affecting me for sure.

I want to develop a system of being. So my house isn't a torrential mess. So my bills are paid on time. So I can balance time better. So I can retain the stable ground of my faith. So I can pursue friendships.

Stepping Back From The Buffet

Why am I putting myself in this position?

I love a man who doesn't love me. Will he eventually? Maybe. Really, I don't want anyone else. But he is so not ready. He's got things to work out in his own heart and there is no room for me. So watch me tiptoe backwards away from the beautiful buffet table and put some space in between myself and those delicious hors' doerves.

After a while, maybe I'll be invited back to partake or maybe I'll find myself very, very hungry.

Feeling Ungorgeous

I have been a dork all my life. Not a big deal. : ) I don't mind being silly or dirty or unperfect. But sometimes it gets to me. I know there are many wonderful things about me and I don't pretend that I am any less or any more than I am. But, frankly, there are some things that I am not. Most of the time, I am settled and content with that. But this weekend, I felt distinctly unpretty. It really began to color my weekend. I don't know why it was such a big deal. I camped and biked this weekend for about four days. I was smelly and dirty. I really love being able to be smelly and dirty and just to love my day for what it was.

But I spent the weekend with a group and in that group was an absolutely stunning woman. She is gorgeous. And no matter what she wears or how dirty she is, she always looked absolutely beautiful. I think it's fair to admit that this was not the case for me. I didn't look that great. And it was hard for me to not be the glowing wonder in the group. I guess my expectations might have been wacked... I know Max was looking forward to this weekend so much. And so was I. And I guess I wanted to be the beauty and the mountain girl all at once. I wanted Max to think I was beautiful.

Looks like I still have some stupid insecurities to work out. Damn it.

My Gramsy

My grandmother is in the hospital. When I went to see her, she looked so fragile and frail. She was super zonked on medication and she was in so much pain. You know what those folks look like in a nursing home... mouths gaping open and foggy eyes. It was really hard. And I felt terrible. Because I had postponed seeing her and Grandad over father's day because Jenn was in town. And she had been wanting to see me so badly. I was glad when I went in to see her that she did recognize me and realize I was there. At first she told me I didn't look anything like Stephanie. : ) I really do. I look alot like me. Grams and Grandad are really like my own parents. They helped raise me and then when Rob got sick, we moved in and lived with them. They love me in a different way than they love the other grandkids. I know that for sure. And it was really hard to see that. I love my Grams and I hope she will be ok.

Another thing, though, is that I really never see the gloom and doom in a situation like that. My automatic response is that she's having a rough go of it, but that she will be great. It's just a matter of time. But my aunt and cousin and a few others just feel like she's a goner. Why is that? Don't we see the same things?