What I Think About When I Don’t Sleep At Night
“I’ve always liked the time before dawn because there’s no one around to remind me who I’m supposed to be, so it’s easier to remember who I am.” -from a Brian Andreas print my babycarrot sister gifted me last year.
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I’m thinking tonight.
I’m wondering: why do we settle? For less of everything that was once promised. We settle for less free time, less challenge, less spirituality, fewer meaningful relationships. We choose superficiality. We choose self-doubt. We choose the world and we starve on a daily basis. Hungering for fulfillment, for a way to spend our time, we look to the material lot of things. Possessions, acquaintances, money, “success.” All of which only taint us, tempt us, tease us. Leave us even more famished, our hearts even more empty, even more lost.
We can’t find anything to conquer. Flags everywhere. And so, we are left to look inside, to look to ourselves. And suddenly, we are looking for something else, anything else, to do. My living space is never cleaner than when I am postponing some much needed introspection.
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Sometimes I think I was conditioned to doubt from the beginning of me. Maybe we all were, to a certain extent. I hate doubting. I hate feeling weak in thought and mind, dislike wondering if there is life after this one and spending time wondering if the answer to that question even matters.
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I refuse to remain stagnant, to walk through life unchanged by experiences both wonderfully intriguing and painfully horrific. I’ve had my share of each. I’m glad. I’m proud of where I’ve come, proud of the mud through which I’ve trudged, and still I am unfinished. I’m proud of that, too.
When I met Chris I was broken. I don’t mean whimsically, metaphorically, although I’m sure that could surely apply. Truly, emotionally, I was broken. I had been brazen with my affections in the past. I had thrown my heart violently at people who had looked at me lovingly, had promised to keep it safe, and then dropped it, kicked it, rolled it around in a particularly unflattering shade of shit. And yet I kept coming back, like a beaten mutt still seeking attention from a man with a boot whose point I had recently felt, and still remembered. I take full responsibility for the ridiculousness I allowed to routinely occur. I take full responsibility for moving on, too.
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He tells her she’s fat and she’s actually listening. The next time she cooks herself dinner she throws half of it in the garbage. The rest she resolves to sweat away from her bones. An hour and a half on the treadmill, pictures of emaciated women and centerfolds urging her faster, faster still. Too fat. Too thin. Too round. Not round enough. Too verbose, too opinionated. Too quiet. Too self-reliant. Too dependent. Too honest. Too timid. Too available. Too busy. Too open. Too loving. Too attached.
Never just “she.” Never just “fine.”
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GREAT ODIN’S RAVEN, IT IS SO HOT. WHY IS IT SO HOT?
Oh, right. “Climate change.” Touché.
Weekend Update, Leprechaun Edition
I haven’t run a 5k since 2005, when my sister and I signed up to “trot” a Race for the Cure in Portland and then on race day, about twenty minutes before we were set to briskly walk with the rest of the meanders, she asked if we could run. We have different memories of this day, but I remember knowing we would run even though we had said we were going to walk. I also remember that while she → Read more...
Things I’m Contemplating As I Enter This, My Superhero(ine) Phase
This post inspired by my friend and Patron Saint of Divorce Redemption.
We’ve all heard about the five (or seven) stages of grief, the designated personal places you must traipse within and for yourself to be able to stand tall on the other side of whatever loss you are suffering. Stages you need to fight your way through surviving, and really processing, to be able to find yourself again.
In my head I liken the five stages of divorce to a wily → Read more...
Do A Big Sister A Favor?
Today is babycarrot sister’s 26th! Day of Cake. Being that my sister happens to be (awesome, yes! and) one of my favorite people on the planet, I think instead of being here, you should go here, and read all about what made her day great. (Seeing as how we’re all very visual learners around these parts, I will tell you that there are most definitely pictures. Of cake, even!)
You could even wish her a happy! birthday. You know, if you → Read more...
My Heart Is A Nautical-Themed Pashmina Afghan
We interrupt copious amounts of Asia recapping this broadcast for a maritime digression of sorts.
You see, I’ve been a lover of the ocean, and of all things aquatic and nautical-inspired, ever since I can remember.
My love for sea-faring-everything might very well have been fostered during the myriad spring breaks spent exploring quaint coastal communities in and around Port Ludlow, Washington. Some of my fondest childhood memories spring forth from days spent poking my curious face into every trinket shop in → Read more...