Tunneling to the center of the earth

Hello again! If you are re-visiting this post, feel free to fast-forward past this next paragraph and meet me back at the other side. If you're just dropping in, welcome!

Disclaimer: As the title suggests, the following post includes some deeper, darker moments of my journey. No surprise. But Take Heart!!! One Day.....One Day, I tell you...I shall write about more uplifting things. I want to be that inspirational blogger that people go to when they need encouragement, when they need to hear that someone has been there where they've been, and not only lived through it, but hung onto Jesus and made it victoriously to the other side. Ok, maybe not a Rocky moment, but a testimony to what God can do when we really let Him into our dark sides, to let Him change us from the inside out and make us doubly more useful in His ministry on this earth than if we just settled for a quiet, unobtrusive, slightly comfortable but never fully satisfied or genuine life. Yes, brighter days are ahead, and I intend on holding on and trusting the Lord to bring me there. And then I will have more encouraging things to say. For now, I just have to be real as I walk through the trenches.

My thought today is that I feel as if I am tunneling to the center of the earth. Going deeper and deeper, through the issues, past the mild discontent, into the ugly places, to a very dark place. Wouldn't it be easier..to just turn around and steer back to the shallow "crust" of my former life? Just ignore the discontent, the lukewarm condition of my soul, wiping away the worms of decay that keep creeping up and falling in my eyes. Smile and pretend everything's fine. Live an easier life, even if I knew deep inside that I'm ignoring God's call to seek Him with my WHOLE heart?!! Isn't putting in a few hours of ministry here & there enough, Lord, to show the world that I'm a fruitful Christian...but wait, how can a tree bear fruit if its roots are tangled in darkness and decaying from unfixed dysfunctions? So much easier to self-medicate my hungry heart with the temporary relief of worldly distractions. But no, I must keep going deeper. If I pop up too soon, the blinding light of reality will whack me back down like a painful game of Wac-a-Mole. If I try to sit in a shallow place, the fires of my discontent will simmer and boil like lava, till all at once I explode like a volcano, resulting in scalding pain to myself and those I love.

So tunnel I must. But I will not be alone... And I quote from a devotional by Kristin Armstrong:

"...if God had no special plans for me or no interest in refining and strengthening me, He would never go to these lengths....He was apparently supervising my growth. It made me want to please Him by responding well to His spiritual boot camp. I figured as long as it was going to hurt anyway, as long as I was committed to doing the work, I may as well go as deep as possible. He kept His word and saved me out of this distant place." -Kristin Armstrong

Who knows where my "distant place" will be, when I finally see the light at the end of this tunnel. God knows. And He will be with me always.

"I will surely save you out of a distant place...I will not completely destroy you. I will discipline you but only with justice." Jeremiah 30:10-11

 

 

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float and sting

Next time I go to my Thursday morning Body Combat class, I think I'd better swing by my friendly Starbucks drive-thru for a quad-shot pumpkin spice latte first. Yesterday morning I was so pumped about finally getting the morning off from work so I could attend class, so feeling the fierce, beast juice in my soul, ready to fight, but apparently my body was still asleep during the first boxing track. We were galloping to the front mirror doing this boxing warm-up and suddenly I tripped over my feet and went cartwheeling through the air, caught my image in the mirror of a spastic donkey with her dukes up and cracked up in pure hilarity and embarrassment. Fortunately I barely caught myself from splatting across the floor, though no one said a thing, except for kindly Rob's "you ok, love?" in his funny, slightly British accent. I was more careful after that. Definitely need more caffeine next time to help me float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. Needed to sprinkle these clumsy feet with the holy water of a 5-shot espresso.

 

 

 

 

So we did a fun mixture of boxing, capoeira (ginga & esquivas) and karate. In the karate track, we learned this cool "creeping" move that took some coordination: creeping forward in sort of a crouch position, arms moving through guard positions with each step, then snap-kicking back and front. hiii-yah!!! Made me feel like one of my kitty-cats back home, only in a sleek black ninja suit instead of their furry ginger-ness. Meow!!'

"You're looking real bad-***, Mad Cary Moms!!!" came the heartfelt compliment of Mr. Rob.

Worked on our speed jabs and power hooks, me still trying to stay on my feet and not make an idiot out of myself again.

 

Love this class. Gets the FIGHT out of me. Now my boxing club is going to start a fight team, dividing into weight classes. I'm wondering if chicks are welcome. I'm only curious, of course. Just asking for a friend.

Speaking of fighting, the phrase "Fight, Flight, or Freeze" came up during my "expensive conversation" I had with someone this morning. When faced with extreme difficulty or terror, our response tends to fall into one of those three "F" words. For me, I am now moving a little more into the "fight" mode, thanks to these classes I'm taking. But I also spend plenty of time in the "flight" mode, where I revert to escapism to avoid my problems by indulging in excessive music, art, humor, exercise or even working too much. The third, "freeze" mode, is something I've done for much too long. My method of "freezing" involves pasting on a happy mommy face, pretending everything's fine, going through the motions, agreeing with everyone when really inside I want to shout and argue, keeping quiet when I want to roar like Katy Perry, that sort of thing.

So what's the answer to the problem, or the correct way to respond? That's what I'm working on. This life is my school. my struggle bus. I'm riding it, drinking my pumpking spice lattes, and throwing a few punches now & then.

that's all for now!

:-)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't know where to go
I don't know what to feel
I don't know how to cry
I don't know ow ow why

 

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Big Wheel

I used to be a grown-up

Made reasonable choices

Stopped at all the red lights

Made careful 90 degree turns

No accelerating on curves

No swerving

Those days are gone.

Now i'm a wild kid on a

Big Wheel

Rumbling plastic

Careening down theDriveways of life

Forgetting those restraints of

Caution, time, good sense

Ignoring those calls forDinnertime

Flinging myself over the

Bumps and

Crying

When i get hurt.

 

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Just say it

When words get stuck, trapped.
Just say what you need to say
Get free, breathe & fly

More rant

Yes mean people suck
Why am i here anyway
Should be home with cats.

Whining @ work. A haiku

Crying on the job
Messed up so bad. Feel so dumb
Fire me already.

Worship thru workout part 2

as i was saying...before i somehow lost everything i typed and now have to start aaaaaaaallllllllll over again...

It's weird seeing my customers at the gym. LIke all they see me in is either my dorky green apron or spandex. My uniform of life. But it was so good to get back to the gym today. Took Body Pump with one of my favorite instructors, the Group Exercise Director who is so motivating and though I can't walk painlessly for days after her class, I love her for it. This class soothed my spirit like a good dose of worship would've done yesterday. Could've used that shot in the arm of church yesterday, or maybe I wouldn't have let this one very Particular co-worker get under my skin the way she did.. and do i mean Particular. If any one dares mess with her espresso bar station or irk her in any way, watch out, she will unleash her very colorfully-spoken wrath upon you and make you feel like a coffee bean fresh out of the grinder. Only for me yesterday, it was more like it punched the "start brew" button in my tear glands, letting loose all my unrelated frustration and funky emotions I've had bottled up...and what a lousy place to feel a cry coming on. Why can't those glands turn on at normal-people-cry-times, instead of at work as I'm about to say "welcome to starbucks, what can we get started for you?" So I found myself finding excuses to turn around and fumble with the coffee filters, while I rub my wet eyes into my black shirt collar, or run to the back for more cup lids, or better yet, escape to the walk-in cooler and stick my head in a crate of milk jugs. Better than crying over spilled milk, right? harhar. But seriously, like everything else, I'll learn to thicken my skin at that place, and just let it go...

Today's workout was a nice release for all that. And there was even sort of a sermon in at least one of the songs... for example, the one we did our squats to, "What's Goin' On" by 4 Non-Blondes, and I quote:

"And I try, oh my God, do I try

I try all the time in this institution

And I pray, oh my God, do I pray

I pray every single day for a revolution

And so I cry sometimes

When I'm lying in bed

Just to get it all out

What's in my head

And I am feeling a little peculiar

And so I wake in the morning

And I step outside

And I take a deep breath and I get real high

And I scream at the top of my lungs

What's going on?"

(end quote)

Then after that very strengthening squat sermon, we had a very hearty sing-along as we did our bicep curls to the classic "Livin on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi. Ah yes, one of my karaoke favorites!!! Even more fun belting it out while you're curling 20 pounds of iron in your hands. Strangely worshipful. And the story of my life, livin' on a prayer.

And tomorrow I shall don the forementioned green apron again and return to the coffee trenches...hopefully a tiny bit stronger, and much refreshed. Thank you, gym. I'll be prayin..

 

 

 

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Sometimes

Sometimes i feel like i'm unfit to be a mom & should just leave it all, move in w/my sister & be an old spinster for life. I give up. G'night.

Glove up!!!!!

So how do i drive with these things on?

 

Patience and Soft-Heartedness

 

What?? I know, that doesn't sound like the type of eye-of-the-tiger, hear-me-roar, tough girl thoughts I might have after washing off the sweat from my boxing class today, but that's just where I'm at. I'm really not all that tough, I'm realizing. Oh sure, it was a good work-out, and I got some tips on perfecting my roundhouse kick into the bag and aiming my upper cuts right into the chin, even though I wasn't nearly as winded and ready to die every second with this instructor, like I usually am with Mr. Donut Man Duque and his aDorable Doggie pal...

But I'm coming back down to reality in this season I'm going through, learning hard lessons on life and love and family and work and money and even more about God and His amazing grace. Even a wretch like me.

I'm going through some awesome devotions that hit me right where I need it, so I gotta share some things..

Like the one on Patience, and I quote:

"Patience is the practice of trusting even when we cannot see....

"Patience evokes a spirit of humility because we recognize that we are not in charge...

"Patience involves seeking the Source instead of the solution.

"Patience is maturity revealed.

"patience is the art of waiting, expectantly, joyfully, and quietly, when you have no idea what you are waiting for.

"Patience is the ability to stand perfectly still in the vortex of chaos, and be totally content to hang out until further notice simply because you have no intention or desire to move forward without His instruction." (Kristin Armstrong)

That last one really gets me. There seems to be a fine line between waiting on God and just being lazy or procrastinating, I know, but I think there's a lot we can learn from God when we just sit expectantly before Him for awhile. I know for me it's teaching me to have a soft heart. My first reaction to pain is to toughen up, or at least pretend I'm tough, and to keep moving, don't slow down, just push through the ugliness and hope God blesses my decisions. But that's not God's plan for us. "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh," God says in Ezekial 36:26.

And again I quote Ms. Armstrong: "In response to heartbreak....it is all too easy to develop a heart of stone.we think this will protect us from any more pain. Yet the problem with stone is that it feels nothing-no pain, but no love either. It is a trap that feels like self-preservation but is actually self-destruction. The Lord wants to give you a heart of flesh. With His love you can emerge from a painful season..with a heart that is yielding, porous, and ready to receive the gifts He has waiting for you."

So yeah, I'll still glove up, alright, but not with hard, unfeeling gloves of stone that bash others yet don't even feel their pain or mine, but with soft gloves of flesh, that can feel as they reach out to others.

And that's all this tough, eye-of-the-tiger has to say today. Roar and purr.

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Night Kitty Haiku

Cat on my pillow
Purring himself to sleep, purrrrrrrr
On my head. Purrfect.

Crazy Zoo

Is there a special zoo

for us freaky people?

those faded wrinkled hippies

Brady Bunch fallouts

Madonna wanna-bes

lusting after that jagged little pill

Still holding out for the prize

In the cereal box

the aimless road tripper

the subway riders beneath

the real world

Of symmetrical ducks and trimmed hedges

We gather & laugh too loud

cry Inappropriately

Share our lost dreams

& those we refuse to stamp out

Crazy zoo

Flying off the rails.

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3:59 a.m.

Ever wish God would just turn off your feelings?
I sure do.
Even when they're more real and yet more bizarre than any I've ever had in all my years on this Earth.
And I've been here a lot of years.

Listening trees

Crying through the woods
10 minute run/pray/worship
Then shower, drive, work.

Stuck haiku

Who's more important?
Is the question of my life:
Me or my kids? Sigh.

One less facade

Sharing my story
With sweet tea, body shaking
Friend's ear, my relief.

Behind the smiles

Check out @JennerosityNC's Tweet: https://twitter.com/JennerosityNC/status/377434415556997120

This article echoed a thought i had recently... about how easy it is to fake a smile when really you're dying inside.  A perspective we all need to be sensitive to when considering how we respond to people around us.

Fighting on the sabbath

ok first let me say that i am not particularly fond of posting selfies...unless of course i have 3 hours to spend agonizingly pining and posing for the perfect shot, then editing and filtering...but this was an experiment, sort of.. Just wanted to capture this rare physical phenomenon that occurs on my face after an intense work-out or run: I get this weird perfectly rectangular red splotchy area across the middle of my face. Just weird. Though this just looks like I yanked my ponytail so tight it made my eyes cross. Enough weirdness, enough being weirdly vulnerable.

My point today is that I chose to attend a Body Combat class on a Sunday afternoon, for the first time, and it also felt a little weird. Sundays are lazy days, and on this day I was feeling particularly dough-ball-ish, so it was rather hard to get into the fierce, badness, beast mode required for a good combat class. But I tried.

I walk in a couple minutes early, actually, but it feels like I'm late because the instructor has held a half-hour "pre-fight" instruction session, just to give some pointers on how to do the various martial arts or boxing moves with correct form. Dang, I should've shortened my Sunday nap and come earlier for this, oh well.

He cautions everyone to work at their own pace, to stop and get a breather or water if needed, or step up the moves to a higher intensity level. He says some of us may be much better runners than he is because, well, he learned to fight, therefore he doesn't need to run. Ha ha.

This is also the first time I've been to the gym in a few weeks, since having the kids home for a 3-week break from school plus starting my new job. So I'm trying to pace myself, but this fighting thang is just so much fun, I'm quickly escalating into the above-mentioned fire-faced beast mode! Some of my favorite tracks were...

Karate: Robb pulls out the old favorite to the Pink song that goes "I'm not here for your entertainment.." (not the actual title) love those snap kicks.

Capoeira: Robb's comment: "this is going to kick your 'boo-daahhh!!!" oh yes, it did. Lunges & squats. Feelin it a day later.

Boxing: lots of this, but one favorite track was when he split up the class, so we're facing the other half who are lined up facing us, and we do a traveling jab move towards them, then back, and eventually through them and switch sides. Robb tells us that the jab is the move you do first in a fight, and if it's done hard enough, it just might be your last move. Well if this dude facing me is my opponent, I have nothing to fear. It's one thing to face a sweet girl who can't really fight, but a guy? Come on. This was just a bit disconcerting to me, I mean, aren't guys supposed to have an innate sense of how to throw a punch? This guy's girlfriend next to him was much better than he was, or maybe she was his bodyguard. Whatever. There I go again, the snarky critic...

Muay Thai: Lovin this! Triple elbow strike right, then a flying, jumping elbow strike left, finish him off with downward brawl punches. Robb leads us in loud guttural sinister yells as we kill our opponents, and by now my Sunday dough ball self is lying in a pool of sweat on the floor. For this one, I've conjured up a great image of my imaginary opponent: in my mind I'm running the trash late at night at work. This means propping open the back door with a brick and running the trash bags out to the dumpsters behind the Starbucks in the dark, praying that nothing but a few squealing rats are there to greet me behind those smelly iron gates. I've been told I can let someone else do this, if I want, and was even offered this guy's switchblade, (not sure if he was serious or not, but seeing the number of police cars that hang out in the nearby parking lot, I can guess maybe not), but I don't mind. In my nightmare-ish fighting mode, I picture a freaky assailant dressed in black, hoodie over his darkened face and just the gleam of one odd gold tooth sparkling as he laughs an evil laugh. I drop my garbage bags, and before he can say uncle I've wailed into him with an elbow strike across the face, upper cut to the gut, add a knee and a kick, how about a few brawler punches then dump out my bags of rotten garbage and coffee grounds on his face and let the rats finish him off. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of real and imagined attackers, I shall fear no evil; my roundhouse kick and mean right hook, they comfort me.

 

Ok, so obviously I'm having fun with this class. Maybe too much fun. I read recently in a devotional by Kristin Armstrong (Lance's ex) that during difficult times, it can be easy to fall into a trap of using things like exercise, therapy, yoga, drugs, acupuncture, shopping, working too much, alcohol, sex, meditation,etc. to try to alleviate pain. Nothing wrong with exercise, or some of those things in moderation, but I know that the way out of painful times is not by seeking immediate gratification in things that only numb the pain, acting as a method of avoidance or anesthesia. "We develop a tolerance to them and require more, only to grow increasingly frustrated and empty. It is impossible to avoid pain; you must walk through it or it will wait for you around every corner. And it is impossible to numb pain; you must experience it fully to come out cleanly on the other side. The only suggestion worth heeding is the only path of true healing - Jesus Christ." (Armstrong, 2007, Happily Ever After)

Words of truth.

And yet I probably won't even be able to over-indulge in my passion for exercise much these days, as my new work schedule won't allow as much time at the gym. Oh well, can't complain. The more I work, the more I earn, the more money I save, and the sooner I establish a steady income, the sooner I can...do some things. But I am definitely making room for this Body Combat class. At least once a week. No more dough ball. Not today, anyway. Hoooooaahhh!!

 

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Regulars

Now that I've been working my new job at Starbucks for over two weeks, I feel like I am finally getting into the "groove" of things a little bit more, and can start making theological analogies in my comments here about my experiences there. That wasn't going to happen my first couple weeks there; trying to learn the complex Starbucks-Ian language of drink recipes and standard procedures made me feel like a rat thrown onto a spinning exercise wheel, just spinning my little legs trying to keep up. And that was a weird analogy. But now I'm a bit more relaxed as I walk in for my shift, tying the strings of my green apron, and enjoying the familiar swooshing sound of the espresso machine as it steams the milk for a latte or Cappucino. Ahhhh, a lovely sound.

Of all the many new things I'm learning on this job, knowing who the regulars are and what they order has been stressed as something very important to remember. The regulars keep the business going, so be nice to them, remember their names and their favorite drinks, serve them well. I was surprised how many regular customers come in there, every day, even more than once a day, to enjoy their favorite expensive beverages. And they usually have some very specific, high-maintenance specifications to go with them.

Of course we cheerfully grant their requests as quickly and efficiently as possible, serving them up with a gracious smile, but as I begin to recognize these familiar faces and their corresponding ridiculously complicated drink requirements, I also sense which ones grate on my fellow employees' nerves the most. What's funny about this is that we're usually all wearing these headsets which allow us to take orders from the drive-thru as well as quietly communicate with the other "partners" (Starbucks word for employees) on our shift, without having to yell across the building. So as an example, I'm beginning to ring up an order tonight from this guy who always brings in his own two personal cups for him & his wife, (to get the personal cup discount of about 13 cents) and always orders the same thing. On my headset this guy ("partner") in the back doing dishes is listing off this guy's order a split-second before the customer says it, so it's like an echo, and I'm trying as hard as I can to keep a straight face but that's impossible for me so I'm busting out laughing and apologizing to the customer, saying I'm just new here and having some trouble...as I key in the decaf tall mocha latte with nonfat milk and no whip, then the regular grande mocha with whole milk and no whip... But what's worse is when these employees start talking junk about these regulars over the headsets, in a quiet voice, in some pretty colorful language, and then turning back around and handing the person their drink with a big phony smile. Interesting.

 

 

Makes me wonder, in my usual divergent thinking mode, if this is how our Lord feels about us when we pray sometimes. Minus the colorful language, of course, but I just wonder if he ever gets a bit fed-up with us "regulars" who come crawling to the throne of grace, time and time again, with our usual set of predictable prayers. Like, "oh no, here she comes again, I know exactly what she's going to say." And now, forgive me as I stretch the boundaries of theological knowledge a bit, but suppose Jesus is the one wearing a drive-thru-style headset, greeting us, the customers, while God the Father sits on his throne, making comments to Jesus as they together receive our prayers. (I know, I'm thoroughly aware of what the holy Trinity is all about, but just humor me here...) And so God looks down and might comment to his Son, "oh this guy's the long-winded guy, he'll start with some heartfelt praise & worship that he'll sing off-key, then he'll go through a very structured format of confession, prayers of thanks, then prayers for wisdom and depending on which day of the week it is, he'll pray for world leaders, missionaries, distant relatives, school teachers and firefighters, his favorite sports team, wisdom, a future wife and then whatever physical ailment he has going on this week. Oh and this next person comes by about once a month or so, after she messes up another relationship and promises she'll be good if we'll just grant her this one request..". I wonder if the all-holy, omnipotent God ever gets harsh in his comments to Jesus about us, to which the all-loving, merciful Christ breaks in with his usual words of grace, reminding the Father of the great love He has for us, that no matter how badly we've acted and even though He knows we'll still mess up again, He will still love us and not even remember what we did in the past.

Now if we could just learn to have that kind of mercy and grace on those annoying people in our lives...those "regulars" who keep placing those demands on us, and to serve them up with a smile. And a perfectly crafted latte.

(dog photo, random, I know, just couldn't resist a daily shot of cuteness!!!)

 

 

 

 

 

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Teaching my girl some boxing...sort of.

on http://7sec.co/v/3eVB

Loved this dance last night...

Check out @cdm7rn's Tweet: https://twitter.com/cdm7rn/status/375114682698579968

Synesthesia

Perhaps I need to move to a music-free planet.

I would lower my expectations, stop being such a dreamer.

Learn to understand the Practical ones.

Even talk and act like them.

Instead of this crazy emotional spazzy sap

I'd live a reasonable life

Based on facts and evidence,

Not feelings.

Not silly whims,

Or shrieks of energy

In bright colors that don't match.

Life would be a simple equation of reasonable choices.

Just keep my hands off the music.

Just say no.

 

 

 

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Why i do this

I found this quote by one of my long-time heroes, Martha Graham, early pioneer of modern dance. Explains why it is not only a pleasure to follow our dreams, but our responsibility.

Martha Graham puts it this way: “There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is transmitted through you into action, and because there is only one of you, in all of time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is or how valuable or how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.” — Martha Graham, Quoted by Agnes DeMille, Martha: The Life and Work of Martha Graham

This is why i must write, or dance, draw, create. Even when it gets dark & the message it sends is uncomfortably gloomy. This is who i am. To not write my honest thoughts would not be true to who i am.  My thoughts & dreams may be silly & immature to some, if that also describes who i am, then so be it. As my mother once said, you are a new person every day. Some days i am peter pan in never-never land. And i guess that's ok.

And that's my rant for today.

Dark night

Sometimes i wish i could just fast-forward to Heaven. This world holds nothing for me but grief & sadness.