On Vulnerability

Telling the truth is hard. Mostly, I think, because we don't know the full extent of the truth about ourselves. It's easier to go through life tending to the daily necessities than to sit down and confront ourselves. It's easier to go to work, get the groceries, do the laundry, clean the house and then fall into bed, than it is to be still and honest with ourselves.

I thought I was pretty good at telling the truth. I love conversation and have shared many evenings talking with friends about life and purpose and meaning.

Then I went to an all day writing workshop and discovered there are many levels of truth, and I was living in the top few. I wasn't strictly a surface dweller, but there were things I discovered that surprised me. We did several free-writing exercises, where you're given a topic and you start writing and don't stop until your allotted time is up. It would often start out completely innocuous, as I wrote about the minutiae of the day, sometimes just writing about the sound of the other writers scratching away in their journals. Then my mind would take a dive and go somewhere unexpected. Sometimes I kept writing, and sometimes I just didn't have the courage. Afterwards, we would share what we'd written, and I would be completely blown away by the truth that had found it's way out. And I respected and admired those that broke open their souls and shared their true selves. And I wanted to share just a little bit more, but wasn't quite ready.

I don't mean to suggest I have some dark, hidden secret that needs confessing. It's more pedestrian than that. It's the little disappointments that turn into big deals and bother us more than we let on. It's the fears that keep us from growing and trying new things, although we have another explanation for not being involved.

I'm drawn to those writers that embrace vulnerability; that share the good, the bad, and the things hoped for but not yet seen. I will get there, in time, but it's definitely going to be a process. If I were writing anonymously it would be so much easier! I know,though, that there are friends and family and co-workers who happen by this blog every now and then. And some of those very wonderful people have a habit of commenting about what I've written, and I need to be able to own up to my confessions in real life.

I don't think I'll ever write some big tell-all post (mostly because there's no big "tell-all" secret) but I am going to try to continue growing in the area of truth-telling, one blog post at a time.

So I think I'm good for today then.

If you're looking for more, may I suggest visiting one of the following blogs:

http://loraleeslooneytunes.com/ - I laughed, I cried, and then I went through a lot of kleenex. Seriously? Don't read this one in a public place, because sooner or later you'll get to a post about her son Matthew, and then you may fall apart a little. She is a woman who went through hell, managed to find her way back, and now has the courage to write about it.

http://inkonmyfingers.typepad.com/ - Beautiful writing and photography. Not quite as raw as the one above.

The Lightness of Being

(Thoughts from yesterday)

Today started like any other day. Get up, shower, get ready for work, feed the cats, feed myself, a few finishing touches, and out the door to work.
I felt a little scatterbrained for the first little while, running on autopilot as my thoughts bounced around from one thing to the next. And then I started to feel it.

A lightness in my being.
A bounce in my step.
A song in my heart.
A welling up of joy and goodness that threatened to spill over into song if I wasn't careful.

The sun was shining, I was full of ideas, and my blog stats were up. I have a few great books on the go, and the upcoming weekend holds the promise of laughter and fellowship.

In the midst of this happiness, I stopped and whispered a prayer for a family friend who is in the middle of a fierce battle with cancer. A prayer that they would see good days ahead.

When everything is going so very well I get a little bit nervous. I want to revel in this feeling, but at the same time I worry that if I let down my guard and allow myself to be swept away by joy I'll be too vulnerable if and when life takes an unwelcome turn. There's a part of me that seems to believe if I'm constantly cognizant of all that can go wrong, if I acknowledge that this can all change in an instant, then I'll somehow be more prepared when it happens.

I know that isn't true. You can't prepare for bad news.

Knowing this, I shall endeavor to fully celebrate the good times. I want my awareness of the fleeting and fragile nature of life to be a catalyst for greater celebration when life is good. I want to be fully present and allow myself to indulge in happiness. I want to imprint on my memory the smiles and laughter and sense of well-being I experience in those moments.

self portrait

i stand in front of the mirror. i came to get a bobby pin, but upon seeing my reflection decide I like the way strands of hair are escaping my ponytail. they fall around my face in a delicate frame. i smile at my reflection and think to myself - i look cute right now. navy thrift store shirt with pink letters - Las Vegas - slightly off centre. pink tank top peeks out from beneath. soft brown capris rolled up above my knees into makeshift shorts. bare feet.

happiness with a touch of longing reflects in my eyes.

Home

I've been reading a series of posts on La Belette Rouge about how people define Home, and started thinking about what Home means to me.

Home is walking in the front door after work and being greeted by my cats. It's sitting on the couch and doing a little reading before I start supper. Maybe even having a quick nap, just because I can.

Home is the feeling of unquestionable belonging.

It's where I can be and feel and express everything exactly as it is. I don't have to try to make a good impression on anyone. If I'm watching a sad movie and blow through a whole box of tissues (pun intended) I don't have to feel self-conscious.

Home is where I can just be.

Home is where good conversations happen. I'm fortunate to have a roommate who is also a friend, and a very gracious one at that. I'm a bit of a talker and she's heard pretty much everything I have to say on every subject you can imagine. And she's still my friend.

Home is where all my dreams begin, and the place I will always come back to.

It's where I can laugh well beyond the point of decency, without feeling like I should really get it together because people are starting to look.

Home is where I work through the difficult times; where I can voice my fears and gather the courage to face them.

At the end of the day,

Home is where I want to be.

My Grandma's Handwriting

(note: I wrote this post awhile back, but needed to give it some time before I could let it go.)

In the course of tidying up the bookshelves in my bedroom today, I pulled down an old cookbook that belonged to my grandma. It's titled The Mennonite Treasury of Recipes. Coil-bound with yellowing pages, I flipped it open to look for handwritten notes, some extra instructions jotted in the margin perhaps. She was in my thoughts, and because the written word holds a great deal of meaning for me, I wanted to see her words. Even if it was only a notation to cut back on the cooking time.

In the notes area of the Butchering section, I found a handwritten recipe for brine for curing beef roasts. I read it through, considering her handwriting more than the instructions she penned. She wrote with flourishes, which surprised me because she was such a practical woman. I think I expected some no-nonsense script - a spartan use of ink and effort.

I realized that there is so much I never knew about my grandma. I wish I could go back and ask her to tell me stories. And to give her one more hug. She always hugged me so tightly, squishing my glasses against her cheek.

Every now and then when the family was visiting, she would catch my eye and give me a knowing look, and even if I don't know exactly what it was she was sharing, it was a special moment between the two of us.

She's been gone for many years now, and I think of her often when I use the kitchen items that formerly occupied her cupboards. Although I may not have known every side of her, I recall with a smile the woman I did know.

And sometimes, like today, I really miss her.

Growing. Older.

I realized yesterday that I am not comfortable with the thought of growing older. I have no problem being the age I am; I don't even mind thinking about sticking a 1 behind that 3 in less than 2 months. What I do mind, apparently, is the thought of the inevitable decline of our bodies as we age.
I had this revelation as I was reading my February edition of Runner's World magazine. They've dedicated a number of pages to a feature called "Age Matters." I've just skimmed the articles, but the news that bones start losing their density, muscle mass declines, recovery rates increase, weight gain is almost inevitable, and your heart starts beating slower pretty much discouraged further reading. I know there is some good news in there somewhere, but for some stubborn reason I find myself unable to sit down and read the whole series of articles.
I've only been a runner for a couple of years, and I'm sad to think that I have only 4 or 5 years left to run my fastest race before age becomes more of a issue.

However. I do not know what the next 5 years, or even tomorrow, may bring. What I do know is that today I can run. So I will do my best, because I can.

(aside: Sometimes it's good to express doubts and worries, because in the simple black and white letters, lining up all orderly on my page, things make more sense than when they're swirling thoughts, all disorderly and panicked. This is one of those times.)

Grocery Shopping, Reading, and Looking Forward

It's official. Sobey's rocks. I'm generally an Extra Foods shopper, mostly due to proximity, but every time I've needed a slightly obscure ingredient I've been able to find it at Sobey's. Every time. It's almost like magic.
Yesterday I was looking for a package of dried Italian dressing mix, and as a last resort (I don't know why I don't just go there first), I went to Sobey's. Slightly holding my breath, I walked down the aisle, and there it was. Magic I tell you.
[aside: I'm trying a new recipe tomorrow and am somewhat of a stickler for following exact directions the first time I make anything, necessitating the hunt for this particular ingredient.]

This year was another good year of reading. I read only 40 books, down a little from last year's count of 54, but there were some definite gems among them. Here are some of the highlights:
1. During the holiday season I read the first installment in the Troy Trilogy by David Gemmell, titled Lord of the Silver Bow. There's something that appeals to me about reading an epic novel during Christmas. Perhaps because the stories of larger-than-life heroes and mythical conquests remind me of the magnitude of the event we're celebrating. This was probably one of my favorite novels of the year.
2. Rowboat in a Hurricane. Fabulous true story of Julie Angus, who was the first woman in the world to row across the Atlantic Ocean from mainland to mainland. During the worst hurricane season on record. After biking from Moscow to Lisbon. And then she biked home from Costa Rica to Vancouver. Yeah, she rocks.
3. Travelling Mercies, by Anne Lamott. I haven't read a book by Lamott that I didn't love.
4. The Little Book, by Selden Edwards. Well-written book about a guy who finds himself in Vienna, circa 1900. And yes, now I would like to go to Vienna. Somewhere, in some notebook, I have started a list of the places I would like to visit, inspired by books I've read. If only I could find that notebook...
5. The Necklace, by Cheryl Jarvis. Girl power! A great book about women and friendship and what we can accomplish when we work together.
6. Well Enough Alone, by Jennifer Traig. A humorous book about hypochondria.
7. Interred With Their Bones, by Jennifer Lee Carrell. Mystery with a dash of Shakespeare. Perfect.
8. The Animal Dialogues, by Craig Childs. Interesting and educational. Did you know there were once camels in Saskatchewan? Or that porcupines quite often fall out of trees?

It would be too hard to pick a top 8 of 2008, but this list is where I would start.

And tomorrow is a new year. I love New Years. My version is not some big, crazy party, but rather a reflection on the past year and anticipation of next year. I'll probably start half-marathon training in about a month and am greatly looking forward to it.
I used to make a list of all the new things I had done the previous year. I like looking back and feeling that I've continued to learn and grow as a person. This year's list would include running 2 half marathons, and learning much about myself in the process, as well as writing book reviews for the StarPhoenix. Dreams for next year include running a full marathon and doing some travelling.

May you enjoy this last day of 2008 with friends and family, and do at least one new thing next year!

Casting Crowns

I've been challenged by several songs on the Casting Crowns CD lately. (The old one.) Challenged, and moved to tears sometimes.

From "Here I go Again":

So maybe this time
I'll speak the words of life
With Your fire in my eyes
But that old familiar fear
is tearin' at my words
What am I so afraid of?
'Cause here I go again
Talkin' 'bout the rain
And mullin' over things
that won't live past today
And as I dance around the truth
Time is not his friend
This might be my last chance
to tell him that You love Him

and...

But how then will he know
What he has never heard?
Lord he has never seen mirrored in my life

So many times I find myself talking about things that just don't matter; things that won't live past today. And I wonder at my inability to talk about what's truly important.

From "If We are the Body":

Jesus paid much too high a price
for us to pick and choose who should come
and we are the Body of Christ.

True - the Gospel is for all people - not just those we deem worthy.

And finally, from "The Voice of Truth": (this one needs no explanation, for it's exactly how I feel)

Oh what I would do to have
The kind of faith it takes
To climb out of this boat I'm in
on to the crashing waves
To step out of my comfort zone
Into the realm of the unknown
where Jesus is
And He's holding out His hand

But the waves are calling out my name
And they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times
I've tried before and failed
The waves they keep on telling me
Time and time again.
"Boy, you'll never win!"
"You'll never win!"

Chorus:
But the Voice of Truth
tells me a different story
The Voice of Truth
says, "Do not be afraid!"
And the Voice of Truth
says, "This is for My glory"
Out of all the voices
calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe
the Voice of Truth

Oh what I would do to have
The kind of strength it takes
to stand before a giant
With just a sling and a stone
Surrounded by the sound of a thousand warriors
Shaking in their armor
Wishing they'd have had the strength to stand

But the giant's calling out my name
And he laughs at me
Reminding me of all the times
I've tried before and failed
The giant keeps on telling me
Time and time again.
"Boy you'll never win!"
"You'll never win!"

Chorus:
But the Voice of Truth
tells me a different story
The Voice of Truth says,
"Do not be afraid!"
And the Voice of Truth says,
"This is for My glory"
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe
the Voice of Truth

Grace Awakening

I'm reading about grace right now, in Philip Yancey's book, "What's so Amazing About Grace?", and discovering that EVERYTHING about grace is amazing. From the depth of God's grace to the sheer lack of it in myself.
Particularly when I'm driving. One of my pet peeves is when one lane of traffic is closed off for construction, and there are signs announcing this fact several kilometers in advance, AND STILL people speed along in the soon-to-be-closed lane and expect to be let in at the very last minute. I want to shout at them, "don't you know that YOU'RE the one holding up traffic, because people have to stop and let you in?!? If you'd just get in line like everybody else, we could all get where we're going a lot faster!" My main thought being, you don't deserve to be let in if you don't want to follow the rules. Not too much grace there.
Not when

"...in the realm of grace the word deserve does not even apply." (pg 62)

Hmmm...the word deserve does not even apply. This rails against everything in me. And, I think, most people. We get angry when someone gets less jail time than they deserve for committing a crime. Most people think they deserve to get paid more, or have a big house, fancy car, and exotic vacations. Think about the McDonald's slogan "you deserve a break today." What does that say? You've worked hard - you deserve a rest. Sure, I have no problem with that. I have no problem with people getting what they deserve. It's when they get more or less than they deserve that I start thinking "that's not fair!" (And how should I know what they deserve anyway? But that's a whole different blog...) Kind of like Jesus' parable about the workers who all received the same pay, even though some worked 12 hours and some worked only 1.

"They could not accept that their employer had the right to do what he wanted with his money when it meant paying scoundrels twelve times what they deserved." (pg 63, italics mine.)

But God's grace is not about being fair. It's not about earning his rewards, or deserving anything. It's simply about his wanting to give good gifts to all - even those who don't deserve them (in our eyes). But maybe that's the point. When I read the story, I always think that I'm one of the deserving ones, but maybe I'm not. And if I'm not one of the deserving ones, than I should be humbled and thankful, because I don't deserve what I've been given.

And maybe that's the whole point.

Lyrical Musings

I've been pondering the following lyric from the new Switchfoot album...

"The shadow proves the sunshine"

from the song of the same title.

---

Also thinking about the following...

Welcome to wherever you are
This is your life; you made it this far
Welcome, you got to believe
That right here, right now
You're exactly where you're supposed to be
Welcome to wherever you are

Be who you want to be
Be who you are
Everyone's a hero
Everyone's a star
When you want to give up and you heart's about to break
Remember that you're perfect; God makes no mistakes

Contemplating

I like listening to music in my car. It provides the perfect environment for really listening. There is nothing else you need to be doing, aside from driving of course. You can't really do this at home, where it's hard to justify sitting on the couch doing nothing but listening to music for 1/2 an hour.
Lately I've had a worship CD playing in my car, and there's one song that's been cycling through my head over and over. It's a remake of a classic, called The Wonderful Cross. (Which is a bit of an oxymoron to me - but that's a whole other line of thought.)
The verse that I've been contemplating is this:

Were the whole realm of nature mine
That were an offering far too small
Love so amazing, so divine
Demands my soul, my life, my all

I wish I could somehow insert the track here, so that you could hear it, because it's so much more powerful than just reading the words. But nevertheless, it's the words that have captured my thoughts...

Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all