excess baggage

packing. all i need.

praying for sun, no wet suits

let's go. awkward beach.

 

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donut therapy

Appointments, appointments. Wasn't I just at this place last night? What, is this my new home now?

Everyone wants to look at my head. Turn it this way, now this way, ok, freeze, and...

Shrink it, sink it, turn it all pink-ish.

Slice it, dice it, spin it around twice-ish.

Blast it, fast it, examine its past-ish.

Hurry it, curry it, make it work and scurry it.

Melt it, felt it, think i just smelt it! (ish!)

Smack it. Whack it. Put it in a straight jacket.

Medicate. Set a date. Get me out that gate.

Tag it, Bag it, Gag it-till-it- uh, is there a word for vomit that rhymes with gag?

never mind.

So tell me, do you ever hear voices in your head?

"oh yes, in fact, just yesterday Scooby-Doo was having a conversation with Fred Flinstone and then Donald Trump jumped in with an infomercial about belly button re-tie-nation for outties..." (don't ask, childhood joke, big brothers like to tease younger sisters about stupid junk)

And do you ever see things that other people cannot see?

"well, no, but my cat used to do that, he drove me crazy. Does that count?"

Do you ever intentionally inflict bodily injury upon yourself?

"hmmm, does that include eating waaaaaaayyyy too many strawberries in May and inflicting on myself many painful hours of sitting in the bathroom?" "TMI???" oh. sorry.

It's so much easier to joke about these expensive visits to the shrink than to really share how I feel about them.

that's all i can say for now.

Have a nice day. A happy mental health day. Tell them I sent you.

 

The bill is HOW MUCH????

Seriously, that would've bought a LOT of donuts.

Probably would've been much better for me, too.

Donut therapy.

love it.

 

 

 

 

 

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Final Exam

whoa. where to begin. mind is swimming, as usual. would prefer to hash it out in my spiral journal first, but don't feel like dashing outside in my jammies to retrieve said journal from the car where I left it. I bring that thing along with me a lot, see, in case the mood hits me, and sometimes it gets left behind. the journal, that is. and sometimes the mood, too.

anyhow. I am so random! so like prince sings in his epic 1999, "I was dreaming when I wrote this, so forgive me if it goes astray..." that's me, random, astray, distracted. And sort of already in a dreamlike state, so tired. so here goes.

Last class tonight. In lieu of a final exam, we finished our time with a small artsy assignment, to finish the phrase, "hello my name is..." by using words or images to describe where we have come as a result of the journey of this course we've taken together. So here's my little piece, which will NOT be stuck to the fridge with magnets, thank you very much...

drumroll, please....

Ta-da!! First of all, NOooooo, that is not a woman in a blue shower cap with her head jammed inside of a watermelon. I drew this in 5 minutes and was NOT creating my portfolio for the Atlanta School of Design, so let's get past that, or is that just my shame talking? hmm. ok. start again. i can do this.

This picture symbolizes where I am right now. I am still inside a dark tunnel, a darkness that surrounds me on both sides. It's been a series of difficult steps to get to where I am, to this current darkness, where I'm in too far to even see the fading fluorescent fake lights behind me, and not far along enough to see the brilliant natural light at the other end of this thing. My mouth is still covered. I am still unable to speak, unable to tell my story yet. But my eyes are up, I am hopeful, my hands are reaching, too. I know in my heart, I have faith, that there is green grass, a blue sky, and a beautiful bright sun out there. Just can't see them with my eyes yet. Don't know how long this tunnel is, but each step is making me stronger. and I'm not dead yet, so I guess it's true, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

I've got more to say, more to muddle through. But some must wait till tomorrow. just too tired.

goodnight, aufweiderzehn, buenes noches, beans and nachos? guten nacht, tschuss!

zzzzzzzz. tempted to throw up another sleeping selfie here but....nah.

 

 

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Critical Awareness

So tonight's my last class. A bit sad about that, I've learned so much and really started to connect with the other "students". Still, we haven't finished the book, so I'll have some good beach reading for next week. Not your typical lazy beach reading, of course, but something meaty, life-changing. Like this topic we're covering now and will explore more in-depth tonight....that of critical awareness.

Defined,

Critical awareness is the belief that we can increase our personal power by understanding the link between our personal experiences and larger social systems. Awareness is knowing something exists, critical awareness is knowing why it exists, how it works, how our society is impacted by it and who benefits from it.

huh?? ok, here's an example. There are social-community expectations of appearance, in such things as hair, skin, weight, clothing, fitness, etc. These expectations exist to keep us spending our valuable resources-money,time and energy- on trying to meet some ideal that is not achievable. Did you know that Americans spend more each year on beauty than we do on education? It's a huge industry! So you have all these expectations, realistic or not. You cannot be all these things all of the time. What would happen if someone perceives you as not living up to these expectations? Can you control how others perceive you? How do you try? By answering these questions and linking that information to what you are experiencing, you move toward resilience by learning to see the big picture. Learning that you are NOT the only one feeling that way, and you can demystify the whole game by sharing what you know with others. Beat the system, so to speak.

ok, enough lecture. Personal experience here. Sort of related, I think... I am learning to recognize when I am feeling bad about some area of my life, but before getting down on myself, I quickly think about what is triggering it, and why I am especially vulnerable to this type of "attack" or trigger. Then, I will often go racing off to my journal to jot it down, helps me figure out my thinking to put it down on paper. Recent example: Having someone use Scripture in a way that nags at an area of perceived guilt (shame) for me. Realizing what was happening, I quickly ran and googled the Bible verse, read some commentaries and learned that this was an often-misquoted verse, used to try to command God what to do, or to condone one's actions by saying that God would bless what they are doing. Put that into a particular relational context, and that trigger can really feel like that knife that stabs and then twists, twists, and tears open those old shame-induced wounds. I'm not going to let that happen. Sure, I love God's Word. But I will go to it in an attitude of prayer, look at the surrounding verses, and let it speak to me on that level, not let one verse out of nowhere catch me off guard and make me feel miserable.

sigh. Enough rant. I may have more to say after tonight. Hopefully less rant, more encouraging insights.

have a good one,

ping!

 

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Prayer walk

hello blogsy. I think I've gone as deep as I can with you, my friend. If I knew you were a real person who could handle all my truths, and still be my friend, I'd share more. But for now, I'm letting the psalmist and some other great Bible writers speak for me. Their words are both honest and encouraging. Exactly what this heart needs.

O God, You know my foolishness;

And my sins are not hidden from You.

Let not those who wait for You, O Lord God of hosts, be ashamed because of me;

Let not those who seek You be confounded because of me, O God of Israel. Ps. 69:5,6

 

Now therefore, I pray, if I have found grace in Your sight, show me now Your way, that I may know You and that I may find grace in Your sight. Ex. 33:13

Whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy - may I meditate on these things. Phil. 4:5

Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him. Job 13:15

 

Till we meet again, blogsy, goodnight.

 

 

 

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everyone has a story

Everyone has a story. Lots of stories, really. Funny stories. Sad stories. Bragging stories. Scary stories, romantic stories, triumphant stories, embarrassing moment stories, etc. These are the type of real life stories we enjoy sharing with others. Things people can relate to.

 

 

Then there are stories on a little deeper level, like a personal testimony of one's faith and how a person comes to a turning point in their life where they accept that faith as a real and personal thing. Or person. As for me, that would be the story of my relationship with Jesus Christ. I've shared that story a bunch of times, both formally and informally.

Then there are those stories which run a bit deeper. The stories of deep hurts that we try to hide most of our lives. Sometimes they are too painful to deal with, so we repress them, but they are still there. Simmering, festering wounds inside our souls that, left untreated, may manifest themselves physically into all kinds of stress-related symptoms and emotional, relational problems. At times they might peek out and be touched by the light, to begin some healing, but then, as often happens, the Enemy comes along with distractions or other hurts that pushes these initial hurts back down, further and further again. An ugly mess.

So what does a person do? They need to get these stories out. But not just to anyone. Like the Bible verse about not casting your pearls before swine, you don't dig out your most delicate stories of vulnerability and hurt and shame and throw them out before a bunch of pigs. ok that was harsh. But meaning, not before people who do not have the emotional depth, background, or sensitivity to be able to receive those stories and respond with real empathy and love. Many people have good intentions, but either they haven't walked that road or one similar to it themselves, or they have their own emotional roadblocks and repressed hurts that they've lost their sensitivity, so they just don't get it.

Sometimes there are trusted, wonderful friends who know you well, love you with all your warts, and are tough enough to hear you out, all of it, and can give you the hard truth in a loving way that you can accept. They can provide good insights to help you grow and begin healing of the wounds.

But sometimes these people are absent or too far away to be of any help. Friendships may fade over time, people move in and out of our lives. And even these great friends may not have all the knowledge and experience to reach you at your deepest hurt, especially where things have gotten so twisted and complicated that a person doesn't even understand their own behaviors and how they turned out the way they did. That's where professional help may be needed. Nothing creepy or weird about that, just someone trained in being handed the twisted mess of people's lives and being able to carefully open up the knots and help that person live again. To be themselves again.

So then what happens to those stories? They are not forgotten. Their scars remain, but now instead of just being a painful reminder of the past, they are carving out a greater depth in that person's heart, if treated properly, and can be used in a beautiful way in other people's lives. That deeper capacity to love and understand can help others with similar hurts. Sometimes the person might even be inspired to enter a vocation of counseling themselves. This is another light at the end of my tunnel. That once I get through this darkness, I will be able to help others like me. We'll see. First I have to keep tunneling through...

 

 

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smoke screens

hello again students, now come on over to the circle-time rug, have a seat, criss-cross applesauce, and let's begin our next lesson.

Today we will talk about our Shame Screens. What's that? You thought I meant to say smoke screens? well, they're similar. A smoke screen, used in time of war, is something inside a canister that is released and creates a big cloud of smoke so that you can hide from your enemy. Now imagine your enemy is actually that yucky feeling of shame, that fear of disconnecting with other people due to your ...."badness". That shame could fall under any of these sample categories: appearance and body image, money and work, parenthood, your family background, mental or physical health, sex, aging, religion, speaking out, surviving trauma, or being stereotyped and labeled. Any of those bring up issues that cause you shame? Everyone has it.

Sooo, what do we do when something in a situation triggers that ugly feeling of shame? We try to hide behind a shame screen, similar to that smoke. Here are 3 techniques we commonly use to try to "hide":

By the way, these are also affectionately known as Fight, Flight, or Freeze.

The first is to move against other people, or to Fight. We might blame others, try to control the situation, or become aggressive. Sometimes this fighting response is actually internalized, and we fight against ourselves.

Next up is the Flight response, or to move away. To move away from other people when we feel shame, we withdraw, become silent, keep secrets, avoid others or avoid eye contact with them.

And finally is our good friend, Freeze. This actually means you try to Move Toward people by freezing your real identity and becoming a people pleaser. This comes in especially handy when dealing with someone in authority or someone who tries to have control over me.

There, now that wasn't so hard, was it? Next, class, I would like you to ask yourself, Which of these "shame screens" do you use, why, in what situations, and with whom?

What's that, you say? You want me to answer that first? but I'm the teacher here...oh...uh...hmmm. ok. uh, my preferred starbucks beverage is running low, I'd better scoot on home and finish this later. Coming to this starbucks after a Difficult Conversation was sort of a "Flight" response in itself, actually. Much easier than slapping on the ever-so-comfortable poker face and pretending everything's fine. That would be using the Freeze response. And then I'd wake up Thursday morning and go to my awesome Body Combat class where I can really release that fighting response by killing it with some mean boxing, karate and muay thai moves. So that answers your question. My answer: all of the above, in lots of situations, with a good handful of people.

That's all for now. My heart has more to say, as I go along this difficult journey. I am thankful for some of the great input I've been receiving from various sources, now time to filter it all through what God speaks to my spirit. So hard to find that quiet place these days. so many voices screaming. Thankful for this mode of expression, for faithful listeners. quiet listeners. but not too quiet. thank you.

adios.

 

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Gettin' fierce with onions!!

ok so where was I....oh yes. my onion-inspired, ADD-tainted, sweat-and-blood-dripping, MMA think-tank session I had yesterday. ahhh but I feel another bout of ADD coming on, mixed with a need for some fresh air and exercise. Running shoes, woods, here I come!

sorry, see ya later!

procrastinate much?

(half hour later...)

ok, I can do this. fresh air, exercise, pistachios, powerade, coke zero. check x 5. I'm alivealertawakeenthusiastic. !!

Don't know why this is so hard, why I'm dragging my feet on this. It's not that I have nothing to write about. too much on my mind. problem is, carefully choosing what NOT to say is important. so here goes.

Love this Body Combat class. Today (actually it was yesterday) he's teaching us a few new moves. One was a new, quicker jab, I think he called it a speed jab? And then he adds this little ducking move called a slip, ( I think) so he's like "8, 7,6, 5, 4, 3, slip, slip, 8,7,..." and so on in our boxing warm-up.

And then my mind drifts back to that smellly onion. Now people are different. They like their coffee different, some with cream, or just sugar, or both, or neither. I like both. Now how do you like your onion?

We do a traveling jab. He says it's for when you're trying to push your opponent to the other side of the ring. Corner him.

Some people like a flaky onion. Now in case you've missed my last post, I'm not really talking about onions here, but the degree to which we choose to share our personal junk with others. Others meaning, people we can trust. oh and did I mention that my mind flits back and forth a bit?

Now he's explaining the difference between the different kinds of kicks. In karate there's the snap kick, with a flat foot going out fast and precise. In muay thai it's more of a shove, with the knee to chest. And the round house, point the toe down. That's all I could remember anyhow... I love kicks.

Now if you're a flaky onion, you don't open up to people much, you keep things shallow. Perhaps it's the way you've been raised, or from past experiences where you're afraid to trust others with your deepest feelings, or you've been hurt before, or maybe you've just unconsciously blocked a lot of harmful junk so you don't even know what your deep feelings are. Like people with post-traumatic disorder. Doesn't have to be something huge, though, we're not talking "nam" vets, if you're old enough to know what those are.

Mr. Rob gives us more imagery to help us with a karate move:

"You're at a nightclub, drinking your diet water, and this guy standing behind you starts getting "handsy".. so you do this combo: guard, then punch, add a snap kick." Actually he used some word other than punch, I'm bad at terms, but he said it was basically "like a pimp slap but with a round fist".

If you're going to keep peeling your onion, you have to know the risks involved, and to proceed with caution: Some people are safe to share with, some are not. What are the risks, real or imagined? Well, we fear that people will think less of us if they know our dirty secrets. The image we were hoping they had of us suddenly gets reduced to just that horrible piece of information, ruling out all the positive qualities that you know you have, those qualities you want to share with the world.

He splits the class in half, we do our traveling jabs, facing the other half of the class. He adds a "punching bag" move, as I like to call it, where we roll our fists really fast. I hate it when he cracks jokes at this part, it's hard to concentrate and keep a straight face when you're face to face with someone..

Another risk. The fear of feeling alienated, like you're the only one in the world who has such a disgusting problem or issue. Someone may hear your story, look at you with pity, (which they may feel is well-meant sympathy) and say something like "wow, that's pretty deep stuff". LIke they're on the other side of the fence, afraid to come near your stinky mess for fear of being contaminated. Sympathy. It's like throwing a casserole in someone's mailbox with a "get well soon" note and driving off. What we need is empathy. Empathy gets down in the dirt with us. Listens. Tries to step into our pain with us. Feels with us.

Muay thai. New traveling move. Adds the lawn mower move. (maybe in a few years I will learn the real name for that type of strike!) I love that one, seeing my opponent already down, then raising my fist, elbow way back, and smacking his face anyway. hoooah!! More elbow strikes.

Empathy is what Jesus showed the woman caught in adultery. Jesus, who has the power to sit on His throne and look down on us, plunking us with his golden sceptor and telling us how wrong we are, but chooses not to. Jesus got down in the dirt with the woman. Wrote something in the dirt, doesn't matter what. Point is, he was down there, at her level. Like when you get down to a child's level to look into their face. You get on the level of the person who's sharing. Maybe you've never experienced "x", but you can listen ,try to feel what they're feeling, then dig deeper. Dig down to a time when you may have experienced similar emotions to what they felt. You share that. But avoid the temptation to "one-up" them, being like, "oh, you went through that, well listen to what "I" went through..." The focus is on them, not you. But show them you can relate.

Pause to wipe the blood off my elbow. His blood, not mine.

Finally, the risk of sharing with the advice-giver. They may be well-meaning, but they're still not getting on your level. Still makes you feel alienated.

So how do I like my onion? good question. Depends who I'm with. (I know, don't end your sentence, that's not even a sentence, with a preposition, well guess what, english professor, i'm in blogger now, where there ain't any rules!!! scary but true.....) I scope people out, like we all do, I think, and decide who's "safe" or not. Even people you know for most of your life may still not be safe receptors of your real thoughts and feelings. You learn to be a good actor, just pretending everything's fine. And keep searching for someone you can trust. You still take risks, sometimes you end up with a few more cases of "vulnerability hangover" than you care to have, but you learn. And you always trust God. The only one who knows your inners better than you do.

I love this verse, Eph. 3:16 "that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being". yes, that inner being, that pit of the stomach that churns when anxious and feeling shamed, that can be calmed with God's perfect peace.

And 2 Cor. 12:9-10 "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. for when I am weak, then I am strong."

I honestly cannot say that I am perfectly content with my weaknesses and hardships right now, that was Paul speaking, and he was a tad more spiritual than I am. But that's ok. Jesus still loves me, this I know. That's all I need to know.

I may be in a place where I'm floating around, doing a lot of pretending on the outside to hide what's on the inside right now. Just trying to keep it all together. Do the right thing, and live a life of 80% contentment. I can keep up the image most the time. Unless I'm touched by certain worship songs that break me. Like "how he loves". Songs that remind me that God wants ALL of our hearts healed, not covered. To the very stinkin' core. Through the pain. That unforeseen kiss- something only God can do. In my spirit, I cannot stand there unaffected, with dry eyes, when that truth reaches me. where it hurts the most. where I'm broken, lying prostrate before Him, as He kneels down beside me. Not peering down in disgust from His heavenly throne, but down in the dirt. with me.

Jesus loves me, this I know.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Onion heads

Opening up and sharing your heart with a group of people you're just learning to trust is like peeling the skin off an onion.

You start with the light, flaky stuff on the outside. You know, that stuff everyone sees anyway, and it's so dry it just flakes off easily. The stuff you know people can relate to, you can make jokes about it. Light stuff.

Then it gets a little juicier. This is where the onion might make you want to cry a little. You have 3 choices:

#1- Stop right there. Decide you don't want to cry, you don't want to go any deeper. And that's ok. for now.

#2- You can keep going, but you figure out a way to keep the tears from falling. I've heard that keeping your mouth closed and breathing through your nose works, as does peeling the onion in the sink under running water. Or you just turn off your heart and speak with your head, stating the facts without getting the emotions involved. I've learned to do this when I need to be honest about how I feel but don't want to hurt someone's feelings. Or...

#3- You keep on going, courageously baring your soul, pushing through the tears, exposing each and every ugly layer of onion skin, till you get to the core. And all those layers just lie there, naked, exposed, fumigating the air with with their stench and bringing tears to the courageous few who dare to come closer.

All analogies aside, this is hard stuff. You don't bare your deepest hurts to just anyone.

(to be continued, I'm getting sleepy....)

:)

 

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mind over muscles

My dearest Blogsy, hello! How good it is to see your bright white screen shining up at me, waiting expectantly for me to throw some digital ink upon you! I've been thinking about you and couldn't wait to tell you what's on my mind.

So much so, I must confess, that I was quite distracted while at the gym yesterday and barely heard what my Body Pump instructor was telling us during class. I kept thinking of the words I wanted to share with you, instead of concentrating on reps and positions and weights and postures and breathing and when to add more plates to the bar.

I was wimpy. While my faithful instructor used heavy plates, gritted her teeth, yelled and pumped till her skin shone pink, I'd sheepishly chosen only a few lightweight plates and just went through the motions, my mind elsewhere. Till the cool-down song, when my brain peeked out for just a moment, as it heard the voice of Kris Allen and some song about an elephant? no, that can't be right, must've been something else. 'Course I'm not really listening to the lyrics anyway, so focused on my cool-down stretches, I am...

 

 

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