Cari,
I answered your challenge.
It's resounding. It's enlightening.
It's not at all what I'm sure I should be doing.
Daring, isn't it? Following your heart.
The whole world, opening up. A bright, blossoming flower. Who knows what poison it brings?
The end of one thing.
The beginning of another. . . . .
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
So I got my hair cut today...
What an odd thing to blog about but here we go! I got my hair cut today. I was meeting a friend for lunch at 1:30 and I had 45 minutes to kill so I decided to get my hair cut (naturally). Let me just say, getting one's hair washed/dried/cut/styled is one of those things that women do and it may look for all the world like vanity-- but comeon. We know what it's really about.
History lesson. So back up hundreds/thousands of years ago and men are the hunter/gatherers and women are the social ones who keep the hearth and home and raise the kids, etc. I know I'm simplifying things here, but back in the day, things were much more community-oriented. We lived closer to each other, we worked closer with each other, we were much more involved in each other's lives, etc. In our culture, we are much more separate. We have separate homes with huge yards and we drive our own cars and raise our own kids, etc. Needless to say, we are missing out on something very organic and personal and essential to us as humans and I'd argue that we are missing simple basic human contact. And thus we pay people to touch us (masseuse, hairdressers, personal trainers, etc). I don't mean this in a sensual way, but in our heart of hearts, we need to be touched. We need people to invade our personal bubbles. We need to have that human connection. As young girls, we had our sisters or friends brush, braid, etc our hair. Friends hugged us. Friends snuggled next to us in tents on cold Girl Scout retreats. As adults, that touch is mostly lost to us. Which is what brings me to having my hair cut today.
Ladies, think about why on earth we pay $35 to have somebody wash and cut our hair? My stylist's name is Tiffany. Tiffany washed, rinsed, conditioned, rinsed and then blow dried my hair. That personal connection-- Tiffany standing inches or millimeters away, combing out and blow drying my hair (much like my mother used to) is a completely comforting experience. Now, I try to respect American Cultural norms, but in general, I don't have a very large personal space bubble. I enjoy people standing close to me. It makes me feel incorporated and grounded. I don't mind people brushing elbows with me or reaching for the same latte at the same time and our fingers meeting for a fraction of a second. To me, that's just a Human Experience. In America, however, it's taboo. I think it's all the Puritanical whatnot still running rampant underneath the surface of our society. Anyway. Moving on. There is something True and Real about being in close proximity with another human being and sharing the same space. And there's something about trusting something so personal with another relative stranger like the cut and crop of my hair that makes me feel so in union with with rest of my brothers and sisters-- it's a Holy experience for me.
Needless to say, Tiffany gave me a most excellent cut and fulfilled a deep, cultural need inside me to feel connected to all of humanity.
Crazy?
Maybe. But for all you ladies out there who have felt the same way but have never known how to express it, can I get an Amen?
History lesson. So back up hundreds/thousands of years ago and men are the hunter/gatherers and women are the social ones who keep the hearth and home and raise the kids, etc. I know I'm simplifying things here, but back in the day, things were much more community-oriented. We lived closer to each other, we worked closer with each other, we were much more involved in each other's lives, etc. In our culture, we are much more separate. We have separate homes with huge yards and we drive our own cars and raise our own kids, etc. Needless to say, we are missing out on something very organic and personal and essential to us as humans and I'd argue that we are missing simple basic human contact. And thus we pay people to touch us (masseuse, hairdressers, personal trainers, etc). I don't mean this in a sensual way, but in our heart of hearts, we need to be touched. We need people to invade our personal bubbles. We need to have that human connection. As young girls, we had our sisters or friends brush, braid, etc our hair. Friends hugged us. Friends snuggled next to us in tents on cold Girl Scout retreats. As adults, that touch is mostly lost to us. Which is what brings me to having my hair cut today.
Ladies, think about why on earth we pay $35 to have somebody wash and cut our hair? My stylist's name is Tiffany. Tiffany washed, rinsed, conditioned, rinsed and then blow dried my hair. That personal connection-- Tiffany standing inches or millimeters away, combing out and blow drying my hair (much like my mother used to) is a completely comforting experience. Now, I try to respect American Cultural norms, but in general, I don't have a very large personal space bubble. I enjoy people standing close to me. It makes me feel incorporated and grounded. I don't mind people brushing elbows with me or reaching for the same latte at the same time and our fingers meeting for a fraction of a second. To me, that's just a Human Experience. In America, however, it's taboo. I think it's all the Puritanical whatnot still running rampant underneath the surface of our society. Anyway. Moving on. There is something True and Real about being in close proximity with another human being and sharing the same space. And there's something about trusting something so personal with another relative stranger like the cut and crop of my hair that makes me feel so in union with with rest of my brothers and sisters-- it's a Holy experience for me.
Needless to say, Tiffany gave me a most excellent cut and fulfilled a deep, cultural need inside me to feel connected to all of humanity.
Crazy?
Maybe. But for all you ladies out there who have felt the same way but have never known how to express it, can I get an Amen?
Monday, October 8, 2012
Choices: pt II
New shoes on the dirt,
over the logs,
under the trees,
dodging the poking roots,
dodging the choice I made
and the choice taken away.
This evening, I run a path I know well,
it's all laid out for me
and there's comfort in that.
It keeps my question
Quiet
for now.
My friend told me I'm at a fork
in the road.
I don't think she reads my blog
so it really must be true.
Pick one, she says,
and go for it.
Oh, those words weigh heavy on my heart tonight.
over the logs,
under the trees,
dodging the poking roots,
dodging the choice I made
and the choice taken away.
This evening, I run a path I know well,
it's all laid out for me
and there's comfort in that.
It keeps my question
Quiet
for now.
My friend told me I'm at a fork
in the road.
I don't think she reads my blog
so it really must be true.
Pick one, she says,
and go for it.
Oh, those words weigh heavy on my heart tonight.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Choices
I had lunch with my sister last week. We sat at Panera in Mission, KS and discussed life and the choices we make. Where we will be in one, 5, 10 years from now is dependant upon the choices we make now. That's pretty heavy.
I remember blogging just a few weeks ago about how I hates choices. I've always liked my future mapped out for me: black and white, here and there. If you look back at that blog, I mentioned sitting in the proverbial fork-in-the-road and how I was so glad I didn't have to be there.
God has a funny sense of humor, doesn't He? Don't get too comfortable, He was telling me. It's about to get shaken all up.
But change isn't bad and choices aren't bad. And even now, the choice to take things one day at a time, it almost feels like dragging my feet--- but I'm wise enough now to know not to jump so quickly. I told my husband this afternoon that my heart is still hurt. That I have trouble trusting. That I trusted and jumped and landed somewhere foreign and hurtful and got stuck there for a very long time.
No, it wasn't all bad. We humans can adapt to any circumstance we chose to. I just chose to stop pretending, that's all. I stopped defending something that was broken. I stopped feeling guilty/prideful/victimized. So there was the first choice. The second was to forgive.
The third?
Well, I'm in the middle of that, aren't I? One day at a time, right? That's what I say. It's moment by moment. Taking every thought captive. Every thought of flight. Every thought of failure. Every thought of resentment or inadequacy or fear. It's choosing to salvage something that could be quite beautiful if we can just make it out of the fire.
Or ice.
Jered says time waits for no one, the world keep spinning. And every. single. day. I make a choice. It is the most difficult choice I believe I've ever made in my life and I need to recommit to it every day. Who am I kidding? Several times every day. One day at a time.
I remember blogging just a few weeks ago about how I hates choices. I've always liked my future mapped out for me: black and white, here and there. If you look back at that blog, I mentioned sitting in the proverbial fork-in-the-road and how I was so glad I didn't have to be there.
God has a funny sense of humor, doesn't He? Don't get too comfortable, He was telling me. It's about to get shaken all up.
But change isn't bad and choices aren't bad. And even now, the choice to take things one day at a time, it almost feels like dragging my feet--- but I'm wise enough now to know not to jump so quickly. I told my husband this afternoon that my heart is still hurt. That I have trouble trusting. That I trusted and jumped and landed somewhere foreign and hurtful and got stuck there for a very long time.
No, it wasn't all bad. We humans can adapt to any circumstance we chose to. I just chose to stop pretending, that's all. I stopped defending something that was broken. I stopped feeling guilty/prideful/victimized. So there was the first choice. The second was to forgive.
The third?
Well, I'm in the middle of that, aren't I? One day at a time, right? That's what I say. It's moment by moment. Taking every thought captive. Every thought of flight. Every thought of failure. Every thought of resentment or inadequacy or fear. It's choosing to salvage something that could be quite beautiful if we can just make it out of the fire.
Or ice.
Jered says time waits for no one, the world keep spinning. And every. single. day. I make a choice. It is the most difficult choice I believe I've ever made in my life and I need to recommit to it every day. Who am I kidding? Several times every day. One day at a time.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Not to Get Too Deep. . .
I've been thinking a lot lately about the value of airing out life while online in the form of facebook/blogs/etc.
And yet here I am blogging about it. Irony.
But the thing is, I am a writer. Always have been in one form or another. Whether it's writing obscenely long fiction at the age of 16 (try 60-pages size 10 font single spaced. . .) or journaling or my various blogs throughout the years. . . and who is a musician but somebody who enjoys music and wants to share? And an artist who creates in order to showcase? And who is a writer but one who likes to put words down and then gives them as a gift to the world. In all cases, it's evident we are all narcissistic people. Haha.
In general, I'm not the person who likes to get really deep with relative strangers. There are few I trust with the entire truth of my heart. That's probably why I mostly blog about running and music.
Speaking of running and music, last Tuesday I made two of the best purchases I've made in a long time. I bought a pair of Asics trail runners and I also bought the new Mumford & Son's CD. I lost the CD over the past few days but refound it just yesterday. I'd been listening to it on Spotify, but the CD I bought has several extra songs included. . . . one of which is The Boxer (originally Simon & Garfunkle-- and also, as some of you know, one of my all time favorite songs ever). I was really nervous listening to the Son's version and it was different-- can't really sing along and difficult to harmonize with-- but it still blowed my mind. Listened to it about four times back to back to back. . . I discussed this with my dad this morning in probably one of the best conversations he and I have ever had. It had all the classic markings of our usual father/daughter conversations: sitting around the kitchen table drinking coffee. . . but then he pulled out his new Iphone which made me get out my phone and I opened spotify and we listened to Brandi Carlyle and the Son's new CD and we went from there. . .
Nothing like music to bring people together.
But, seriously, I count myself lucky to have found several really solid albums in the past month or so. It so rarely happens, it's like finding a great surprise. And I can really be such an internal person, music has always helped me connect and find expression in what I can usually not articulate well. If somebody asked me how my day went, I wish I could just pull out my ipod and play them a song and that would be their answer. It's like that. Even as I write, I need something moving my soul along.
I guess that's also why music has been so essential to me this past week and it was music that helped my resolution. God knew what he was doing when He led me to buy that CD last Tuesday. Nothing else has been able to minister to my heart the same way.
Boy, Barb, you're probably saying, that's a lot of credit to give some secular group.
Oh, sure, credit is always due to many different things. But God has always used music in my life to direct change, to express my passions and to heal. I thank Him for that. Music combined with a good run often frees up my mind enough to go where it needs to and process what is necessary.
And here I do feel the need to post something although I always hate it when people post lyrics in facebooks/blogs because what are lyrics without the music? But here we go:
Now I'll be bold as well as strong
And use my head alongside my heart
So tame my flesh, and fix my eyes
A tethered mind freed from the lies....
-I Will Wait...
And yet here I am blogging about it. Irony.
But the thing is, I am a writer. Always have been in one form or another. Whether it's writing obscenely long fiction at the age of 16 (try 60-pages size 10 font single spaced. . .) or journaling or my various blogs throughout the years. . . and who is a musician but somebody who enjoys music and wants to share? And an artist who creates in order to showcase? And who is a writer but one who likes to put words down and then gives them as a gift to the world. In all cases, it's evident we are all narcissistic people. Haha.
In general, I'm not the person who likes to get really deep with relative strangers. There are few I trust with the entire truth of my heart. That's probably why I mostly blog about running and music.
Speaking of running and music, last Tuesday I made two of the best purchases I've made in a long time. I bought a pair of Asics trail runners and I also bought the new Mumford & Son's CD. I lost the CD over the past few days but refound it just yesterday. I'd been listening to it on Spotify, but the CD I bought has several extra songs included. . . . one of which is The Boxer (originally Simon & Garfunkle-- and also, as some of you know, one of my all time favorite songs ever). I was really nervous listening to the Son's version and it was different-- can't really sing along and difficult to harmonize with-- but it still blowed my mind. Listened to it about four times back to back to back. . . I discussed this with my dad this morning in probably one of the best conversations he and I have ever had. It had all the classic markings of our usual father/daughter conversations: sitting around the kitchen table drinking coffee. . . but then he pulled out his new Iphone which made me get out my phone and I opened spotify and we listened to Brandi Carlyle and the Son's new CD and we went from there. . .
Nothing like music to bring people together.
But, seriously, I count myself lucky to have found several really solid albums in the past month or so. It so rarely happens, it's like finding a great surprise. And I can really be such an internal person, music has always helped me connect and find expression in what I can usually not articulate well. If somebody asked me how my day went, I wish I could just pull out my ipod and play them a song and that would be their answer. It's like that. Even as I write, I need something moving my soul along.
I guess that's also why music has been so essential to me this past week and it was music that helped my resolution. God knew what he was doing when He led me to buy that CD last Tuesday. Nothing else has been able to minister to my heart the same way.
Boy, Barb, you're probably saying, that's a lot of credit to give some secular group.
Oh, sure, credit is always due to many different things. But God has always used music in my life to direct change, to express my passions and to heal. I thank Him for that. Music combined with a good run often frees up my mind enough to go where it needs to and process what is necessary.
And here I do feel the need to post something although I always hate it when people post lyrics in facebooks/blogs because what are lyrics without the music? But here we go:
Now I'll be bold as well as strong
And use my head alongside my heart
So tame my flesh, and fix my eyes
A tethered mind freed from the lies....
-I Will Wait...
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