Livid

Livid.  I love that word.  LIVID.  LIVID.  LIVID.  It just rolls off the tongue so nicely, and perfectly describes what I've been feeling today.  yeah say it with me now: LLLLLLL_IIIIIII_VVVVV-----IIIIDDD. ahhh.  So much better-sounding than MAD, which just sounds big and fat and clumsy.  And ANGRY just sounds too proper and judgemental. It even looks good.  Those sleek letters...the V even reminds me of the sharp point of a sword, like the imaginary one we used in the Pirates of the Caribbean track we did in Body Combat class. Pull out that sword, swing it around, slice and stick it into your opponent.  Yes, LIVID means you have a good reason to be steamed up and ready to EXPLODE, but a focused explosion, to explode in a constructively destructive manner, in which the giver of the destruction feels much pleasure, satisfaction and accomplishment in the performed action.

And today that action was performed in my Body Combat class.  (Did I ever mention that the Proverbs 31 woman actually could've been a BC participant, as it says that "her arms are STRONG for her TASKS!!"  ?)  And we know exactly what kind of TASKS we're talking about here.  Jabs. Speed Jabs. Hooks. Upper Cuts. Snap Kicks. Roundhouse. Muay Thai Shove Kicks. Elbow strikes. Brawler Blows.  I was a little low on the muscular strength and aerobic capacity today, due to too much time off from the gym while the kids were home...so what I lacked in strength and endurance i made up for in near-perfect technique and sharp LIVID punch in every move.  I'm talkin perfectly calculated, timed slice-and-dice, throw you into the compost pile, fighting maneuvers.  Throw in this heat in my head and heart, and I am on top of my game.  At least in my own opinion, while in this gym, I am.  I may fumble and clam up when it comes to even speaking to anyone during or after this class, I can be so socially inept, but in my head I'm feeling like a champion.

   

Loved the Muay Thai track to the song, Kickstart my Heart by Motley Crue.  I got so winded doing the traveling brawler blows...that I hardly had any energy left for the speed jabs and hooks, ascending elbow strikes, knee jab thingys where you yank someone's head down on your knee, and the old favorite SHOVE kicks.  (sorry, i was about to include a link to the live concert version of that song by Motley Crue, but...umm, let's just say I try to keep things clean here.)

So another awesome Body Combat class comes and goes.  As I'm processing it all in my head while in the restroom afterwards..(sorry, just being honest) I'm starting to ask myself WHY.  WHY am I so livid today?  What's the deal? oh sure, there are people and situations that I'm mad about right now, but...is there more?  Then I see it.  There's not much to look at in the bathroom stall except my purse hanging on the hook in front of me, so as if in answer to my question, a small piece of paper juts out of the inside of my purse, something I haven't even looked at in a long time.  It's an old check from my mom and dad I've been carrying around for months, just too lazy to cash it, just a gift for something, not a whole lot. But what jumps into my face is the name of my father on the top of the check, the only words that are framed in this particular view from where it's stuffed into an inside pocket.

That name.  My father.  How much longer will I be able to look at that name and associate it with a living, breathing human being, who I can still call on the phone, and hopefully visit soon to drink in all those memorable characteristics of him that I hold so dear in my heart.  How awful, that God would want to just snatch that person out of my life.  How cruel, that Anyone would think of letting him go through so much pain, so much suffering, and the mental agony of knowing they are going to die a slow, painful death in the short time ahead.  This wonderful person, my daddy, who gave me rides on his big feet when I was just a toddler, who took me on fishing trips to Canada, who was such a humble, quiet and caring person, hardly ever getting angry or speaking an unkind word.  How wrong.  God, that's just wrong. HOW.  DARE.  YOU.  Yes, I'm mad at You, God.  Even though I don't dare challenge Your holiness, Your greatness, Your knowledge and wisdom and the reasons You have for everything that befalls us in this lifetime...it's still not fair.  And why now.  Haven't enough things been taken from my life already?  Why this added stab in the heart? Anger. Lividness.  Just a part of the grieving process, I suppose, along with denial and sadness.

That's when I lose it.  Yes, right there in the bathroom stall.  Actually the clouds don't really burst until I'm in the privacy of my car, driving home.  I love to cry in the enclosed spaces of the shower or alone in the car.  Let it all out.  And soon the anger over other things/people in my life ...they hold no weight...against the grief that underlies it all.

and there's that stupid red cardinal out the window again.  Almost mocking me, teasing me with the idea of finding joy, a speck of bright color in the midst of this horrible stinkin gray.

sorry for the deep and dark today.  my thoughts went astray.