I have vivid dreams. Sometimes, they are so real, I can't remember if it was just a dream or if it actually happened. Many times there are songs in them, like a soundtrack. I suppose that's kind of cool, but sometimes it just bugs me. The other night the soundtrack was the song "Falling to pieces" and it was stuck in my head all day. Then another time it was the song by Far East Movement "Like a G6" - try getting THAT out of your head. (If you haven't heard it, please google it and enjoy that one entrapped in your mind for awhile!)
I have a recurring dream. It happens once every few weeks or so. It's always about the same thing, the same issue that needs to be resolved. Sometimes the place or details change, but it always has the same end result. I always wake up affected. Sad. Happy. Thoughtful. Some would say it's a sign. Maybe someone somewhere is trying to tell me something? Psychologists would say it's because this area in my life needs to be resolved. I like the first choice. I prefer to think that it's a sign. Probably because resolving something means dealing with it. I don't really want to, because I like the dream and however irritating it might be it keeps me connected to my feelings. The real ones. The ones that people always try to cover up from everyone else.
Do you do that? Do you keep your real feelings hidden? Do you go about your life acting as though everything just couldn't be better? Putting on appearances? That's not to say that you don't love your life and the people in it. You may absolutely be content. I believe there is more to a person though. Whatever it was that might have influenced you emotionally long ago, maybe when you were little, or maybe someone you really loved...it's not like it just goes away. It carves a place in your heart and that's where all the old affections live, until you have a dream or hear a song, or smell something that transports you back to that time in your life. You reminisce. You feel nostalgic and at times you miss it, not because you are discontented, but more because it's totally part of you now. You may not even know it, -as you sit there and try to figure out why your even letting it be a thought - but it has created who you are today. So I suppose it's right to accept it. I know not everyone does... they want to forget because it was shameful or unacceptable, or it shows vulnerability, and they are known to be the "strong one". They have the perfect appearance now. The truth is that you can keep those feelings and places inside hidden for years. But eventually they will come out, like a sliver in your skin, your mind will reject it and you will have no choice but to face it.
Don't be ashamed of what made you who you are, or the people involved in sculpting you into what you are today. Embrace it. It's the same as when you were little and you were told "if you tell the truth, you won't be in as much trouble as you will if you tell a lie". So true. Who knew that was going to be applied to your entire life and not just that one instant. Do you see the metaphor? Perhaps, I should take my own advice.
Until next time, my lovelies
T♥
This is my personal journal of thoughts, intuitions and discernment. A committee of sorts that is the very core of me. This is a VIP tour inside my brain. Enter at your own risk. My name is Tera. I'm in my 30's, a mom of two, I have a life and things I'm accountable for... but I'm still just a girl in spirit. I might be just like you...Welcome to T and the Committee.
10.24.2010
Reasons
I'm weird. It's okay... I've dealt with it. It doesn't bother me as much as it used to. In fact, as I get older, it's kind of a welcome blessing that I'm not just ordinary. It might be more accurate to say instead that I'm dealing with it. Have you noticed as we get older we lose our sense of imagination? We have somehow discarded our ability to believe without reason. Sometimes, even people with an abundance of faith find themselves searching for validation. They have forgotten what the definition of faith is. I always attribute faith to the wind. You can't see it physically. But you can see it's effects... The trees and how they sway to it, like it's their own personal music. You can feel it when it moves the air across your face. You know it's there. There is proof.
Intuition. I have that. Funny, I make it sound like an illness and truthfully, it feels like it at times. My strong intuition gives me a sense of the things and people around me. Not just that they are there... but descriptive details. How, you might ask, I have no idea. It can be exhausting because, unlike when I was younger, I'm always searching for proof and reasoning as to why I sense these things and for what purpose. When your 5, no one accuses you of being crazy for playing with your imaginary friends or talking to your stuffed animals. No, no, no...I don't have imaginary friends (they aren't made up anyway..) and I don't talk to my stuffed animals (not all the time anymore, haha). When you are older all that ease disappears and people tend to conform. I've conformed to being responsible and trying to be a good mom, and any big decision is always based on that... those were my choices and those people I'm tied to are owed that respect by me. However, in most other ways, I haven't. I just don't want to. I refuse. I make the deliberate choice to think about life in another way. What a waste it would be to only think about what I have to do every day...my job, my schedule, my clothing options, what to eat, how I really dislike bad drivers, watch a couple of TV shows, go to bed and repeat the next day. Sure, I do those things. But in between I start thinking and all of a sudden I'm experiencing.
There was a storm today...lightning and thunder, wind and rain. I walked to the beach to take some pictures. On the way, it was cold and I drew my jacket in close around me. Quarter-size drops of rain pelted and stung my face. I started to conform and think this was a dumb idea, I should turn back...instead I chose to experience it drawing in the brisk air through my nose and feeling the icy rush into my lungs. I pushed forward, my shoes sinking into the wet sand with each step. I was tempted to close my eyes and shut out the burn of the wind but I kept them open. I reached the end of the trail to meet the ocean, roaring in my ears. The tide was driving in and the waves were intimidating as I ventured closer. There was no beach to walk on today and I was confined to the safety of the grassy dunes. It was powerful to say the least. I wasn't just looking at it. I was encountering it. I felt like it was encountering me. It wasn't just water, it seemed...alive.
It would be suffice to say that the peculiar design of my thoughts is all for a reason. But I don't need one. I'm contented to say I'm blessed and anyone who might be sweetened by reading my thoughts, even ever so slightly, are most likely the reasons themselves.
Take time out to experience your life. I'm absolutely certain there are some who would give anything to experience their lives once more.
Enjoy it.
Love,
T♥
Intuition. I have that. Funny, I make it sound like an illness and truthfully, it feels like it at times. My strong intuition gives me a sense of the things and people around me. Not just that they are there... but descriptive details. How, you might ask, I have no idea. It can be exhausting because, unlike when I was younger, I'm always searching for proof and reasoning as to why I sense these things and for what purpose. When your 5, no one accuses you of being crazy for playing with your imaginary friends or talking to your stuffed animals. No, no, no...I don't have imaginary friends (they aren't made up anyway..) and I don't talk to my stuffed animals (not all the time anymore, haha). When you are older all that ease disappears and people tend to conform. I've conformed to being responsible and trying to be a good mom, and any big decision is always based on that... those were my choices and those people I'm tied to are owed that respect by me. However, in most other ways, I haven't. I just don't want to. I refuse. I make the deliberate choice to think about life in another way. What a waste it would be to only think about what I have to do every day...my job, my schedule, my clothing options, what to eat, how I really dislike bad drivers, watch a couple of TV shows, go to bed and repeat the next day. Sure, I do those things. But in between I start thinking and all of a sudden I'm experiencing.
There was a storm today...lightning and thunder, wind and rain. I walked to the beach to take some pictures. On the way, it was cold and I drew my jacket in close around me. Quarter-size drops of rain pelted and stung my face. I started to conform and think this was a dumb idea, I should turn back...instead I chose to experience it drawing in the brisk air through my nose and feeling the icy rush into my lungs. I pushed forward, my shoes sinking into the wet sand with each step. I was tempted to close my eyes and shut out the burn of the wind but I kept them open. I reached the end of the trail to meet the ocean, roaring in my ears. The tide was driving in and the waves were intimidating as I ventured closer. There was no beach to walk on today and I was confined to the safety of the grassy dunes. It was powerful to say the least. I wasn't just looking at it. I was encountering it. I felt like it was encountering me. It wasn't just water, it seemed...alive.
It would be suffice to say that the peculiar design of my thoughts is all for a reason. But I don't need one. I'm contented to say I'm blessed and anyone who might be sweetened by reading my thoughts, even ever so slightly, are most likely the reasons themselves.
Take time out to experience your life. I'm absolutely certain there are some who would give anything to experience their lives once more.
Enjoy it.
Love,
T♥
10.21.2010
Teenagers are a blessing...
Welllllll... it's happened. I'm officially the mother of a teenager. (Ew. NOT "mother".. I really dislike that word, it makes me feel old.) Let's start over. I'm officially the mom of a teenager. (Much better.) I keep trying to figure out how this has occurred and I can't quite sum it up...I'm obviously not old enough. haha..oh, I guess I am. But we'll just keep that between you and I.
I guess it started to happen a few years ago when we had Tyler's 12th birthday party at the local pizza place. He invited all his friends to join him for a little food and video games for the afternoon. I order the pizza and drinks and before 15 minutes have passed, Tyler is telling me that I need to order some food for them to eat. "I did!!" I say, and start to go up to the counter to find out what the hold up is. He says "no mom, I already ate that...".. Surely, there must be some mistake. I'm astonished as I've ordered 2 large pizzas and 2 pitchers of pop. But as I look down at what used to be a large cheese pizza on a pan, I'm faced with reality. He ate the whole thing... I'm lost as to how this has happened. In my mind he's only 5 years old. Well, wait, no he's 8-- oh dear that was 4 years ago... he's 12. What? Where have I been? Oh, now I remember...
For those of you who don't know, you will find out one day - so I might as well tell you now. When your child turns 12 (sometimes earlier) they are replaced by a clone from outer space. I am unsure how this actually takes place, but it must be while you are sleeping, because one night you will tuck into bed, that precious gift from God, and the next morning they will awake with a vengeance. You'll find yourself speechless as you say (as you always have) "Good Morning, buddy!" and you are slapped in the face with "you're ruining my life!!" You'll shrug it off at first as a fluke of sorts until- as the days and weeks go by, you realize they are morphing into someone else. Before long, they are 12 and completely immersed in Jr High and your biggest hurdle then is to find just one phrase in the English language that does not utterly embarrass them... (who knew "Have a good day!" was such a death sentence.) The easy job of shopping for clothes turns into a horrifying ordeal as you tip-toe the racks afraid to suggest even one item of clothing. It's pointless really, as apparently, adults are incapable of style and we have "no idea how ugly" everything we pick out is. Also, they know everything. Not just some things, absolutely everything. You'll see this as whenever you open your mouth, before you can even finish the sentence they will cut you off with "I KNOW." This goes for reminders - "Don't forget to turn in your homework." "I KNOW." Maybe a simple statement "Hey, your favorite show is on tonight!" "I KNOW". You will eventually concede that this fortress of knowledge cannot be broken and you regress to -"Hey just want you to know I love you"... can you guess the answer? Yep, they know. This is also goes hand in hand with the fact that they are NEVER wrong. NEVER. And if they are, well of course, it's probably your fault.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel. They return around age 14 (again, probably while you are sleeping), and the hurricane that was your child emerges from the clouds. The sun actually shines a little while an angelic "Hallelujah" chorus is quietly versing through your mind. You get a glimpse of who they might be as an adult in little things that they do and you're able to take a deep breath for the first time in 3 years. You made it!! It's not completely incident free. There is still the random "you're ruining my life" and "leave me alone" but much fewer and far between. Mostly, I just watch as he goes through all the experiences of high school, each milestone marking the way, a silent reminder of how fast time goes by. Freshman year...milestone...performing at the games with pep band (and they are really good!!)... milestone. Now, he's going to Homecoming this weekend... with a date...another milestone.
I find myself lost in my thoughts a lot, thinking about Ty and how we got from that sweet little boy who sang along to Sesame Street, who used to chase bubbles outside- the same one who melted my heart with one little grin, and required "hugs please" and I would bury my chin on top of his white-blond hair...Who is this boy and how did he end up taller than me... am I actually looking up at him? I suppose he is still there. He still sings along, only to different songs now.. and he still melts my heart with his smile. Now I am the one who requires "hugs please", and he rests his chin on top of my head!
My daughter turned 11 this year... dun, dun, dun... I suppose the clones will arrive sometime in the near future...
In the meantime, I will continue to remind myself of how truly blessed I am.
Until then~
Love
T♥
I guess it started to happen a few years ago when we had Tyler's 12th birthday party at the local pizza place. He invited all his friends to join him for a little food and video games for the afternoon. I order the pizza and drinks and before 15 minutes have passed, Tyler is telling me that I need to order some food for them to eat. "I did!!" I say, and start to go up to the counter to find out what the hold up is. He says "no mom, I already ate that...".. Surely, there must be some mistake. I'm astonished as I've ordered 2 large pizzas and 2 pitchers of pop. But as I look down at what used to be a large cheese pizza on a pan, I'm faced with reality. He ate the whole thing... I'm lost as to how this has happened. In my mind he's only 5 years old. Well, wait, no he's 8-- oh dear that was 4 years ago... he's 12. What? Where have I been? Oh, now I remember...
For those of you who don't know, you will find out one day - so I might as well tell you now. When your child turns 12 (sometimes earlier) they are replaced by a clone from outer space. I am unsure how this actually takes place, but it must be while you are sleeping, because one night you will tuck into bed, that precious gift from God, and the next morning they will awake with a vengeance. You'll find yourself speechless as you say (as you always have) "Good Morning, buddy!" and you are slapped in the face with "you're ruining my life!!" You'll shrug it off at first as a fluke of sorts until- as the days and weeks go by, you realize they are morphing into someone else. Before long, they are 12 and completely immersed in Jr High and your biggest hurdle then is to find just one phrase in the English language that does not utterly embarrass them... (who knew "Have a good day!" was such a death sentence.) The easy job of shopping for clothes turns into a horrifying ordeal as you tip-toe the racks afraid to suggest even one item of clothing. It's pointless really, as apparently, adults are incapable of style and we have "no idea how ugly" everything we pick out is. Also, they know everything. Not just some things, absolutely everything. You'll see this as whenever you open your mouth, before you can even finish the sentence they will cut you off with "I KNOW." This goes for reminders - "Don't forget to turn in your homework." "I KNOW." Maybe a simple statement "Hey, your favorite show is on tonight!" "I KNOW". You will eventually concede that this fortress of knowledge cannot be broken and you regress to -"Hey just want you to know I love you"... can you guess the answer? Yep, they know. This is also goes hand in hand with the fact that they are NEVER wrong. NEVER. And if they are, well of course, it's probably your fault.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel. They return around age 14 (again, probably while you are sleeping), and the hurricane that was your child emerges from the clouds. The sun actually shines a little while an angelic "Hallelujah" chorus is quietly versing through your mind. You get a glimpse of who they might be as an adult in little things that they do and you're able to take a deep breath for the first time in 3 years. You made it!! It's not completely incident free. There is still the random "you're ruining my life" and "leave me alone" but much fewer and far between. Mostly, I just watch as he goes through all the experiences of high school, each milestone marking the way, a silent reminder of how fast time goes by. Freshman year...milestone...performing at the games with pep band (and they are really good!!)... milestone. Now, he's going to Homecoming this weekend... with a date...another milestone.
I find myself lost in my thoughts a lot, thinking about Ty and how we got from that sweet little boy who sang along to Sesame Street, who used to chase bubbles outside- the same one who melted my heart with one little grin, and required "hugs please" and I would bury my chin on top of his white-blond hair...Who is this boy and how did he end up taller than me... am I actually looking up at him? I suppose he is still there. He still sings along, only to different songs now.. and he still melts my heart with his smile. Now I am the one who requires "hugs please", and he rests his chin on top of my head!
My daughter turned 11 this year... dun, dun, dun... I suppose the clones will arrive sometime in the near future...
In the meantime, I will continue to remind myself of how truly blessed I am.
Until then~
Love
T♥
10.16.2010
Ode to Summer...
If you have ever lived on a farm or near one, you know what a wheel line is. A long watering mechanism with sprinklers for a head and wheels for feet. There is it's mama, the center-pivot...a massive system with one large sprinkler on the end and several drops along the tubing to the middle of the field. Many a child shivering at the thought of being hit by that end sprinkler while riding our bikes on the back roads in the summer. It was like being pelted with the stream from a fire hose, knocking you on your butt, drenching you completely and easily. I swear I could hear it laugh as it passed on, the click of the sprinkler saying "tsk, tsk, frail human"...
Summer was a paradise. The sun soaked you during the day and dragged lazily to dusk stretching out its departure to the very last minute every night. We ran and played jumping about, occasionally finding hidden treasure in the hot earth and sometimes burying our own. Road 7 ran behind my house (about a quarter mile behind me across a corn field.) My friend Lisa lived down that road about a mile and half. Surely, we had worn tire tracks into the pavement going back and forth on our bikes when we realized we were "neighbors" (haha) We were 11 (my daughter's age now) when we decided to bury our treasure - A mason jar full of silver! (etch-a-sketch dust).
With the exception of a couple of main arteries through the valley, our play land consisted of roads named for letters and numbers. Simple and effective as if to taunt the bigger cities about their parkways and boulevards of fancy names. We swam in the lakes and ditches, sometimes the city pool... we laid in fields staring up at the endless blue and breathed in the aroma of alfalfa, the scent of home. We gorged ourselves full of the summer high until it was time to come back down and face the reality of going back to school.
As we all got older, we had parties in secret locations (the patch, the trees...yes I remember them all but a few have names I'm not going to repeat!!) Some of us painted the tunnel with our names and the names of the boys and girls we loved. Others invaded Crescent Bar to mingle with the "206-ers" that would colonize the area from Memorial Day to Labor Day. I had a group of best friends I did everything with. I remember coming down to earth one day while we were all out swimming at H Lake. I watched my "girls" laying on the rocks to stay warm, jumping off the cliff to the water below, the bronze of summer on their faces. I wondered in that instant if we would always be friends.. would we always stay together? We made a pact, "best friends forever" so it had to be true right? Would our lives change enough that they wouldn't be my next door neighbors when we became adults? I pondered this as I sat atop of the rocks at H Lake that afternoon. My intuition told me I would be writing about this one day, so enjoy while it lasted. I made a point of memorizing the area around me, from the first splash to the drive home. When I think about it today I can visualize it all. It is one of my only memories so vivid.
I've lived away from the area for 7 years. The place I live now feels somewhat like home...but I sense how mistaken I am each time we are driving in from I-90 at George to Quincy. If it happens to be summer I roll down the windows (affffter the feedlot..haha) and breath the alfalfa and mint just like I did as a kid. The nostalgia is instant. All I have to do is close my eyes and listen for the click of the wheel line and I'm home.
A lot has changed. We have some streets in town with actual names! There is much more industry and some of the farms have disappeared. But the area is still the same, the familiar flatness of the land hasn't changed, and good ole Road 7 is still there. As we pass it each summer on our way into town, I strain my neck trying to see a little glint of silver under the power lines where we buried our treasure so long ago. I've never seen it, of course, but I can't help but hope it's still there, holding a bit of summer's past and etch a sketch dust inside.
For those of you who know exactly what I mean: Here's to summer♥
Love,
T♥
Summer was a paradise. The sun soaked you during the day and dragged lazily to dusk stretching out its departure to the very last minute every night. We ran and played jumping about, occasionally finding hidden treasure in the hot earth and sometimes burying our own. Road 7 ran behind my house (about a quarter mile behind me across a corn field.) My friend Lisa lived down that road about a mile and half. Surely, we had worn tire tracks into the pavement going back and forth on our bikes when we realized we were "neighbors" (haha) We were 11 (my daughter's age now) when we decided to bury our treasure - A mason jar full of silver! (etch-a-sketch dust).
With the exception of a couple of main arteries through the valley, our play land consisted of roads named for letters and numbers. Simple and effective as if to taunt the bigger cities about their parkways and boulevards of fancy names. We swam in the lakes and ditches, sometimes the city pool... we laid in fields staring up at the endless blue and breathed in the aroma of alfalfa, the scent of home. We gorged ourselves full of the summer high until it was time to come back down and face the reality of going back to school.
As we all got older, we had parties in secret locations (the patch, the trees...yes I remember them all but a few have names I'm not going to repeat!!) Some of us painted the tunnel with our names and the names of the boys and girls we loved. Others invaded Crescent Bar to mingle with the "206-ers" that would colonize the area from Memorial Day to Labor Day. I had a group of best friends I did everything with. I remember coming down to earth one day while we were all out swimming at H Lake. I watched my "girls" laying on the rocks to stay warm, jumping off the cliff to the water below, the bronze of summer on their faces. I wondered in that instant if we would always be friends.. would we always stay together? We made a pact, "best friends forever" so it had to be true right? Would our lives change enough that they wouldn't be my next door neighbors when we became adults? I pondered this as I sat atop of the rocks at H Lake that afternoon. My intuition told me I would be writing about this one day, so enjoy while it lasted. I made a point of memorizing the area around me, from the first splash to the drive home. When I think about it today I can visualize it all. It is one of my only memories so vivid.
I've lived away from the area for 7 years. The place I live now feels somewhat like home...but I sense how mistaken I am each time we are driving in from I-90 at George to Quincy. If it happens to be summer I roll down the windows (affffter the feedlot..haha) and breath the alfalfa and mint just like I did as a kid. The nostalgia is instant. All I have to do is close my eyes and listen for the click of the wheel line and I'm home.
A lot has changed. We have some streets in town with actual names! There is much more industry and some of the farms have disappeared. But the area is still the same, the familiar flatness of the land hasn't changed, and good ole Road 7 is still there. As we pass it each summer on our way into town, I strain my neck trying to see a little glint of silver under the power lines where we buried our treasure so long ago. I've never seen it, of course, but I can't help but hope it's still there, holding a bit of summer's past and etch a sketch dust inside.
For those of you who know exactly what I mean: Here's to summer♥
Love,
T♥
10.15.2010
Have my cake and eat it...ALL
I'm a spiritual person...I believe God created us and all things. He did a pretty good job (way to go God!) on most things. But what happened when he was creating food? He made all the things I want to eat daily bad for me...(not His fault.. perhaps he thought we would LOVE Lima beans!) Yesterday, I wanted to eat a whole cake. (Funny, this happened right after I posted about my life changing reality and how wonderful it was to be living and changed, haha, of course...) This is what happened...
So I hopped on the treadmill yesterday, so proud, running almost 3 miles. I felt great! I showered and got ready for work, happy, singing in the car.. ahh life was good.
I arrive and walk into the break room where we store our coats a personal belongings. It's like someone set a trap for me. There on the table is a cake. Not just any cake, but German Chocolate, my favorite. I look around expecting a person dressed in black with a mask sneaking out the back door, but, no one is there. Apparently, it's not a trap set intentionally for me.. just a simple birthday gesture for a coworker. I don't go near it, I'm avoiding it like it's a land mine or something..walking gingerly around it to fill my water bottle (good job, T water is good!!) and I go out to my desk. I'm working away, talking to customers, smiling.. but inside I'm thinking about the cake. Their voices fade to the background as my mind wanders to the yummy goodness awaiting me. NO! I will NOT deviate. I shake my head and think "can I seriously be this focused on a stupid CAKE??!" My lunch time is coming soon, and silly me I haven't had anything else to eat but my morning protein bar and I can feel the hunger pangs in my stomach. Time inches closer to my lunch hour, each minute making a loud click as the hands move on the clock. It's unavoidable and I stand up to leave the lobby like I'm walking to my execution. I'm standing at the doorway to the break room and I suddenly feel like a mouse and the cake is the cheese. (Let's be real, I would have been just as excited for cheese but for arguments sake let's move forward.) I'm moving a little at a time, studying it...looking around every few seconds to see if anyone is behind me. I feel guilty already just looking at it! I clear my head and decide this is ridiculous and I walk with my head high to the fridge to retrieve my healthy salad and HA! my DIET COKE.. not water, for a treat. (take THAT, cake!) I'm minding my own business, doing my daily crossword and Sudoku (NO, I'm not a nerd, it helps me stay sharp...okay...maybe I'm a little nerdy.) In walks another employee, the one who the cake is for with a couple of other people. "Alrighty, she says, time to cut into this baby!!" I'm panicking just a little, but, I'm holding it together. They slice into the cake and start serving themselves. Meanwhile, I'm salivating like a dog under the dinner table. I don't know why I'm doing this to myself. Probably because I've been denying myself anything remotely sugary for awhile now. This proves to be a mistake as, after they leave and I'm alone in my misery, I decide to end my suffering and just have a little...
Was it ever good...each slice. Yes. Each -as in more than one- slice. Oh yeah, baby, I started with one tiny sliver..then another.. and then one more. I'm reasoning with myself that I haven't had a full piece yet, until I realize that a good portion of the cake is gone. Not the whole thing, but, a significant area of the cake has disappeared. I feel like the kid who has been sneaking the cookies without mom knowing until the jar is empty. I don't think anyone will notice, and hey, plenty of people got their share. Someone else walks into the break room as I'm pondering my actions and has the audacity to state "WOW, I better get some of this cake before it's gone! Is it any good?" I must consider the facts. I've eaten the cake. I'm not gonna lie about it. I will confess. I say "yes..." (yes mom, I ate the cookies.) I'm waiting for some kind of judgement, but it never comes. Why? Because no one has given it a second thought. The only person that is being hard on themselves is me!
Why do we do this? So I had some cake!! BIG WHOOP! I haven't eaten cake in months! It's not like I eat cake daily..(oh but I so could.. hahaha). We are all so hard on ourselves, especially as women. (Guys are too, but, I sincerely doubt very many guys have analyzed eating a cake.) Most women have no idea how beautiful they are, inside AND out. We are critical of our every move, worried about what others may think or worst of all totally harsh on ourselves. We must get over this. We must do the best with what we have while still remembering who we are, for real. Now eating cake daily (or whatever your "cake" may be) isn't the best choice to be healthy, it is okay to just be a girl sometimes. Take a deep breath. Things are only as big of a deal as we make them out to be. Don't forget that you were once just a girl, carefree and full of spirit. Don't lose that part of yourself in your daily routine....and if you have..go find her. Chances are she's been missing you, too.
Eat your cake girls,
Love T♥
So I hopped on the treadmill yesterday, so proud, running almost 3 miles. I felt great! I showered and got ready for work, happy, singing in the car.. ahh life was good.
I arrive and walk into the break room where we store our coats a personal belongings. It's like someone set a trap for me. There on the table is a cake. Not just any cake, but German Chocolate, my favorite. I look around expecting a person dressed in black with a mask sneaking out the back door, but, no one is there. Apparently, it's not a trap set intentionally for me.. just a simple birthday gesture for a coworker. I don't go near it, I'm avoiding it like it's a land mine or something..walking gingerly around it to fill my water bottle (good job, T water is good!!) and I go out to my desk. I'm working away, talking to customers, smiling.. but inside I'm thinking about the cake. Their voices fade to the background as my mind wanders to the yummy goodness awaiting me. NO! I will NOT deviate. I shake my head and think "can I seriously be this focused on a stupid CAKE??!" My lunch time is coming soon, and silly me I haven't had anything else to eat but my morning protein bar and I can feel the hunger pangs in my stomach. Time inches closer to my lunch hour, each minute making a loud click as the hands move on the clock. It's unavoidable and I stand up to leave the lobby like I'm walking to my execution. I'm standing at the doorway to the break room and I suddenly feel like a mouse and the cake is the cheese. (Let's be real, I would have been just as excited for cheese but for arguments sake let's move forward.) I'm moving a little at a time, studying it...looking around every few seconds to see if anyone is behind me. I feel guilty already just looking at it! I clear my head and decide this is ridiculous and I walk with my head high to the fridge to retrieve my healthy salad and HA! my DIET COKE.. not water, for a treat. (take THAT, cake!) I'm minding my own business, doing my daily crossword and Sudoku (NO, I'm not a nerd, it helps me stay sharp...okay...maybe I'm a little nerdy.) In walks another employee, the one who the cake is for with a couple of other people. "Alrighty, she says, time to cut into this baby!!" I'm panicking just a little, but, I'm holding it together. They slice into the cake and start serving themselves. Meanwhile, I'm salivating like a dog under the dinner table. I don't know why I'm doing this to myself. Probably because I've been denying myself anything remotely sugary for awhile now. This proves to be a mistake as, after they leave and I'm alone in my misery, I decide to end my suffering and just have a little...
Was it ever good...each slice. Yes. Each -as in more than one- slice. Oh yeah, baby, I started with one tiny sliver..then another.. and then one more. I'm reasoning with myself that I haven't had a full piece yet, until I realize that a good portion of the cake is gone. Not the whole thing, but, a significant area of the cake has disappeared. I feel like the kid who has been sneaking the cookies without mom knowing until the jar is empty. I don't think anyone will notice, and hey, plenty of people got their share. Someone else walks into the break room as I'm pondering my actions and has the audacity to state "WOW, I better get some of this cake before it's gone! Is it any good?" I must consider the facts. I've eaten the cake. I'm not gonna lie about it. I will confess. I say "yes..." (yes mom, I ate the cookies.) I'm waiting for some kind of judgement, but it never comes. Why? Because no one has given it a second thought. The only person that is being hard on themselves is me!
Why do we do this? So I had some cake!! BIG WHOOP! I haven't eaten cake in months! It's not like I eat cake daily..(oh but I so could.. hahaha). We are all so hard on ourselves, especially as women. (Guys are too, but, I sincerely doubt very many guys have analyzed eating a cake.) Most women have no idea how beautiful they are, inside AND out. We are critical of our every move, worried about what others may think or worst of all totally harsh on ourselves. We must get over this. We must do the best with what we have while still remembering who we are, for real. Now eating cake daily (or whatever your "cake" may be) isn't the best choice to be healthy, it is okay to just be a girl sometimes. Take a deep breath. Things are only as big of a deal as we make them out to be. Don't forget that you were once just a girl, carefree and full of spirit. Don't lose that part of yourself in your daily routine....and if you have..go find her. Chances are she's been missing you, too.
Eat your cake girls,
Love T♥
10.14.2010
I ran so far away!!!!
For those of you who know me, you know I've been struggling to get into shape for a good year now. I started out going to a dietician which turned out to be a great choice. I learned a lot about what I actually eat, what I should eat and what I shouldn't.
I started out great.. I was going along, eating healthy, proud of myself. Then it happened.
The Event.
Last Christmas, I was at my parents house and we were getting ready to go out for the day, ice skating, holiday shopping, typical holiday activities. I had put my hair up earlier and I was primping in the mirror when I decided I'd better check the back of my hair to make sure it was in place. I pick up a hand mirror and proceed to my backside's reflection. You know those horror movies where the camera flashes from scene to scene with the scary music that gets louder and louder, until someone screams? This is what took place at that moment in my head. My hair? No, that was fine. It was the unfamiliar rear in the jeans staring back at me that scared the living daylights out of me. "Whose butt is that?", I ask myself in my head. Because it isn't mine. It's the ass of someone I don't know, right? Surely, there is someone in this bathroom with me, playing a trick. Someone I might see out and about and think "dang, she should do something about that and rethink those pants.." I don't know how else to describe it, and maybe it's better I don't give a detailed description...but in a word or two, it simply looked like it had given up. Perhaps gravity played a factor as the once shapely area of my body had taken a dive and deflated. It sounds superficial, but I had a mini nervous breakdown. I changed into something else (20 outfits and needless to say a longer shirt) and we went on our way.
That was my moment of truth. My subconscious gave me a lecture.."T, you're in your 30's now, it's not going to be like it was 10 years ago where I could skip a meal, lose 10 pounds and call it good." I'd never had a weight problem...but more than just the weight, I'd never been unhealthy.
I started a workout called Slim in 6. "6" means weeks...(I was hoping that meant minutes, heck, I'd settle for 6 days!!) But no, it meant weeks...6 long, excruciating weeks. It's a series of workouts that start out at 24 minutes and then get longer as you progress. I fondly called it "Slim in kill me now"...(and a few other colorful phrases on bad days..)
But I stuck with it... I used muscles I didn't know I had, and (after many "Lord help me's", "God give me strength" and "Travis shoot me now") I welcomed back the ones I had been missing. Before long, I mastered the program..It became easy. I lost weight. Lots of it. More than that, I became healthier.
And so it was time....
Time to check that rear-view mirror,. It had been 6 months. I said a silent prayer (Something like "Dear God, please!!!"). Lo and Behold there it was...in all it's glory... hahaha, okay... no, not really...but definitely improved!!
It had all started out as a mission in vanity. I wanted to look better.. and yeah, I guess I wanted to feel better...but I was focused on what I looked like. What I got was so much more...
We were all walking to the beach one afternoon and my kids (14 and 11) were running ahead... I said "Hey wait up!!" and I burst into a run.. A RUN!! I was shocked. It was EASY! I wasn't tired, it didn't hurt and the look on Abby and Tyler's face was priceless like "NO WAY"
Nothing is better than being able to run and play with them and not get tired.. not bend over and gasp for air after a few yards...I had no idea when I started that I would gain anything!! I gained so many more rewards for being in shape than just looking great in my jeans... I'm living now, not just biding my time waiting to get older. I'm living. I changed. Not just the shape of my body, my entire outlook on life. Thank God.
Life is so good. I'm blessed beyond belief. And yes... I'm loving the view....... from all sides.
Live well, my lovelies.
Love, T♥
I started out great.. I was going along, eating healthy, proud of myself. Then it happened.
The Event.
Last Christmas, I was at my parents house and we were getting ready to go out for the day, ice skating, holiday shopping, typical holiday activities. I had put my hair up earlier and I was primping in the mirror when I decided I'd better check the back of my hair to make sure it was in place. I pick up a hand mirror and proceed to my backside's reflection. You know those horror movies where the camera flashes from scene to scene with the scary music that gets louder and louder, until someone screams? This is what took place at that moment in my head. My hair? No, that was fine. It was the unfamiliar rear in the jeans staring back at me that scared the living daylights out of me. "Whose butt is that?", I ask myself in my head. Because it isn't mine. It's the ass of someone I don't know, right? Surely, there is someone in this bathroom with me, playing a trick. Someone I might see out and about and think "dang, she should do something about that and rethink those pants.." I don't know how else to describe it, and maybe it's better I don't give a detailed description...but in a word or two, it simply looked like it had given up. Perhaps gravity played a factor as the once shapely area of my body had taken a dive and deflated. It sounds superficial, but I had a mini nervous breakdown. I changed into something else (20 outfits and needless to say a longer shirt) and we went on our way.
That was my moment of truth. My subconscious gave me a lecture.."T, you're in your 30's now, it's not going to be like it was 10 years ago where I could skip a meal, lose 10 pounds and call it good." I'd never had a weight problem...but more than just the weight, I'd never been unhealthy.
I started a workout called Slim in 6. "6" means weeks...(I was hoping that meant minutes, heck, I'd settle for 6 days!!) But no, it meant weeks...6 long, excruciating weeks. It's a series of workouts that start out at 24 minutes and then get longer as you progress. I fondly called it "Slim in kill me now"...(and a few other colorful phrases on bad days..)
But I stuck with it... I used muscles I didn't know I had, and (after many "Lord help me's", "God give me strength" and "Travis shoot me now") I welcomed back the ones I had been missing. Before long, I mastered the program..It became easy. I lost weight. Lots of it. More than that, I became healthier.
And so it was time....
Time to check that rear-view mirror,. It had been 6 months. I said a silent prayer (Something like "Dear God, please!!!"). Lo and Behold there it was...in all it's glory... hahaha, okay... no, not really...but definitely improved!!
It had all started out as a mission in vanity. I wanted to look better.. and yeah, I guess I wanted to feel better...but I was focused on what I looked like. What I got was so much more...
We were all walking to the beach one afternoon and my kids (14 and 11) were running ahead... I said "Hey wait up!!" and I burst into a run.. A RUN!! I was shocked. It was EASY! I wasn't tired, it didn't hurt and the look on Abby and Tyler's face was priceless like "NO WAY"
Nothing is better than being able to run and play with them and not get tired.. not bend over and gasp for air after a few yards...I had no idea when I started that I would gain anything!! I gained so many more rewards for being in shape than just looking great in my jeans... I'm living now, not just biding my time waiting to get older. I'm living. I changed. Not just the shape of my body, my entire outlook on life. Thank God.
Life is so good. I'm blessed beyond belief. And yes... I'm loving the view....... from all sides.
Live well, my lovelies.
Love, T♥
10.13.2010
Music, Music, Music
It's constant in my life. I sing it, I listen to it, I write it, I love it. Constantly. I'm in the car and I'm thinking of the lyrics of my favorite songs currently, songs I've written, songs I've half-written (so many of those) new songs... old songs. Music. It's a time machine. It is possible to be transported through time in an instant.. the second you hear the familiar notes to your once favorite song. You remember exactly where you were when you might have heard it. This happens to me on a regular basis. I love that feeling that comes from somewhere in the pit of your stomach, the one that jolts you when a song starts playing that you haven't heard in awhile. Or when a song has been put together in such a way that it can draw emotion right out of you. Examples: Motley Crue, Without You- Jr High Halloween Dance. I'm wearing a black cat costume (really just a black mini skirt, shirt, and ears and a tail - Halloween is every Jr High girl's excuse to dress inappropriately right??!) I'm dancing with Jeremy Sterkel. I wonder whatever happened to him? haha.. Okay.. Anything by Def Leppard and I'm in Jr High/High School again..seriously, you know you can't turn on Pour Some Sugar on Me and not remember where you were!! Wreckz N Effect..Rob Bass..Snoop!!! Fast forward....Return Of the Mack...- My bachelorette party... Sometimes songs can be painful.. Avril Lavigne - I'm with You. Sometimes nostalgic - Boston -More Than a Feeling. See what I mean? I bet you all have songs like that... the ones that are so connected to a time in your life that when you listen to them you are sucked back to that time or place. Wasn't it Dick Clark who said "Music is the soundtrack of our lives"? He was right.
I have a friend, he's an older gentleman, that I see probably once a week or so around town. We couldn't be more opposite, which is probably why he's so dear to me. He lost his wife a couple years ago, she was his best friend in the world. We got to talking once and the subject of music came up. He said "I don't listen to music, I don't like it, it's boring". I was astonished! "Why?" I asked, shocked. He went on to say that today's music is crap so why bother... I said "Well what about other music!?" He said "I used to like it, but, well..." He kind of trailed off. I suppose it's because it all reminds him of his wife. And any song that was a favorite, is connected to her. Since they were married for over 50 years... I can see his point. The soundtrack of his life...
Music is more than an art of sound in time that expresses ideas and emotions through the elements of rhythm, melody and harmony It's a creative outlet. It's a therapist. It's your best friend when you feel alone. A jukebox is a scrapbook, the covers inside are the pictures. And somewhere in the middle of all of it is you. What songs play on your soundtrack? See you soon... Love T♥
I have a friend, he's an older gentleman, that I see probably once a week or so around town. We couldn't be more opposite, which is probably why he's so dear to me. He lost his wife a couple years ago, she was his best friend in the world. We got to talking once and the subject of music came up. He said "I don't listen to music, I don't like it, it's boring". I was astonished! "Why?" I asked, shocked. He went on to say that today's music is crap so why bother... I said "Well what about other music!?" He said "I used to like it, but, well..." He kind of trailed off. I suppose it's because it all reminds him of his wife. And any song that was a favorite, is connected to her. Since they were married for over 50 years... I can see his point. The soundtrack of his life...
Music is more than an art of sound in time that expresses ideas and emotions through the elements of rhythm, melody and harmony It's a creative outlet. It's a therapist. It's your best friend when you feel alone. A jukebox is a scrapbook, the covers inside are the pictures. And somewhere in the middle of all of it is you. What songs play on your soundtrack? See you soon... Love T♥
10.12.2010
Signs are for reading....
For those of you that have the same duty of dropping your kids off at school each morning, I know you will relate to this. Each morning around 7:45am I drive to the school, take my turn in line in the circular drive way/parking lot, and send my child off to the wonderland of 6th grade. Each morning the same thing happens. There is always that one person.. the one who doesn't pay attention to the signs all around them.
This circular driveway parking lot in front of the school is my daily test of patience. Who would have thought that in all the things that could happen in a day, this certain area of pavement decorated with white lines could be my enemy... I suppose it's not fair to blame the parking lot, but rather the people in the cars that line it every day. Why do you ask? Well, let me tell you. There is a sign right as you enter that says.. (anyone? Anyone know what it says?).. it says "Please pull all the way forward before stopping". It says this, because if you don't, you create a long serpentine of vehicles that can't move around you. They must wait. The entrance is narrow, and if you turn juusssst right, you can maybe squeeze past but only in...well.. a Smart Car. So each morning I pull up and just as I think it may be avoided and everyone will read the signs, and we'll all drive happily into the sunrise.. it happens. The flow of traffic STOPS! Out jumps that oblivious parent, to not only drop their child off, but get out and escort them the, oh I don't know, 5 feet to the front door of the school. The dance of the serpentine begins as each new car pulls up and we create a line a mile long. Not only has this parent not read the street sign..but not read the clear sign that they are holding up traffic.
Today, as I sat there, grumbling to myself I wondered what all the other cars were thinking. Were some of them mad and yelling? Were others just as oblivious because they had other things on their minds? Were some grumbling just like me or simply laughing at the sheer irony of the "please pull all the way forward" sign?
I could stay mad, I could get "circular driveway parking lot rage" and lash out but what good would that do? Instead, I began to laugh. I realized that I too, need to pay attention and read the signs. My sign for today? Clear as the morning bell before school...Patience is a virtue.
Take your time today... Love -T♥
Take your time today... Love -T♥
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