Month: August 2020

Tread

I tend to tread lightly… both figuratively and literally.

It bothers me when others tread heavily, loudly, noisily… both figuratively and literally.

I tend to take people off-guard by my doing so…

I tread lightly, but with intentionality and casual comfort and ease… yes, both figuratively and literally.

And when I am met with fear, I pause, take a few full breaths, relax, and continue forward, still treading oh-so-lightly…

I tend to read lightly, and I thus feel that I am often not even noticed.

It is who I am, but that doesn’t mean the noise and thunderous clamors of the world around me make it easy to be myself.

The hardest part is always the breathing, for some reason… that’s the part I always seem to forget, and it gets me just a little bit turned around, as though I am looking for the breath I have lost… when I find it, though, it gives me the strength to take my next steps onward and forward… as myself, lightly, intentionally, and confidently so.

Post-a-day 2020

Playing love, not fair

Have you ever come back to something from the past, mostly in a casual comment during a casual conversation, and discovered with surprise that not only are you not over the event but you are actually rather furious about it still? I had that happen tonight while showering. I was considering my struggle to do a workout today, and the friend who helps keep me accountable by my sending her the workouts whenever I finish them. I was imagining a conversation with her, sorting out why I struggle so much to make myself exercise right now, on my own, and determining what was at stake for me, why I want so badly to be so super fit. My motivation, it turns out, has been something along the lines of ‘I’ll show him,’ regarding a guy who judged me strongly, prematurely, and quite unfairly… which, I dare say, even without my recent struggles to exercise easily, I know is not a good enough motivation. I don’t want to have to be that way with anyone. And I don’t want to do things for someone else’s sake, when they really are for my sake. I want to be beautifully fit for me, not for anyone else. Yes, I want others to benefit from my fitness and also the physical beauty of that fitness. No, that is not the reason I want to be fit. And yes, people are granted an opportunity to see what they themselves do not have by not being in a relationship with me, when I am very fit and healthy and well. But none of it matters if I am not happy, myself. And I know I won’t be fit, if I am not happy. And I know being fit for revenge of sorts is no motivator for me – it is mean, shallow, and an easy escape. Rather than deal with any issue at hand for myself, I throw something like revenge out? Not hardly… I know to my deepest core that such an act is not for me, and does not serve me in even the least bit – it only harms and hurts me in the long run, as well as the daily.

And so, I now am re-evaluating two things.

1) What do I need to do to heal and to free myself from the stress regarding this guy who was unfair toward me?

2) What is my true motivation for being fit – why do I actually want what level of fitness?

Those are my tasks for the present, and I look forward with delight to their solutions, but slight fear to the tears I know must be shed to reach such solutions.

Here goes…

Post-a-day 2020

Vroom Vroom

Today, I went to my mom’s house to bring some salmon for dinner for my grandparents (who are still there due to hurricane damage at their home in farther-east Texas), and to hang out with them and with my mom. Where I am house-sitting is about an hour away from my mom’s house. I have express permission to drive the Vespa (which was, essentially, a copy of mine only a few weeks after I bought mine) and the Porsche, because, “It’s the cheapest car we own.”

Take that in for a second, will you?

…

Anyway, it’s a 1999 Porsche 911, a little car made for speed and spectacular performance. I drove it (with the owner in the passenger seat) once years ago when he first bought this particular one, and he had me go up in the highway and experience the sheer speed the engine can produce. I remember noticing that we were going 96 miles per hour despite my having had no idea we were much above even 60mph – I had told him at the time that the car just felt comfortable there, like it was made to go that speed more so than any other speed. He agreed with me, and then gave me a breakdown on why that felt to be the case. It was a really cool experience for me.

Today, I own a 2002 Hyundai Accent GL with crank windows and a 2013 Vespa 300GTS (that’s 300cc). The Hyundai is mostly a rainy day and grocery store car, as the engine can really only handle light use and short distances. The Vespa is, well, a Vespa. It can go 88mph with me driving it, but it isn’t made to do that very often or on the regular – it is really made to go 50-ish on the regular, possibly a bit more. Neither of these vehicles is anything like a Porsche. Nor was the 2011 Toyota Prius I recently drove for a while while a friend was out of the country – that one even less so, really.

And so, fast-forward back to today, when I fired up – and I use those words on purpose, because, boy, does it sound like someone just lit a massive fire when that engine roars to life! – this Porsche 911. It kind of made me nervous just to get the thing out of the one-car garage door (of a four-car garage, of course), I felt like I might blast a hole in something every time I even touched the gas. (Plus, with the age, the gear shifter was a little wonky to figure out at first, having to pull it way to the side for first gear, and even more way to the side for reverse, I was nervous of going the wrong direction straight into the concrete in front of me!) I had to run a quick errand first, and so experienced the world of growling beasts that are the low speeds of such a vehicle… I felt like I was going to break down just about everything that I passed, that engine was so strong and rough with its constant dull roar and slight explosion at every press of the gas pedal.

But I got over it after that short errand, and I took the dog for a quick little neighborhood ride before I headed out. I was told she absolutely loves it, and she even snuck out the gate while I was checking things over before leaving, and she climbed halfway in the driver door, despite my telling her to come back inside the yard. It was actually quite comical, so I couldn’t resist. I had considered doing it, anyway, but didn’t want to be running any later in my plans than I already was. When she so pathetically tried to crawl into the car, I had to go ahead with the original plan to take her for a ride.

Thus, the following… and no, I have no real explanation but that I imagine she might have been escaping the sunlight… the top and the windows were all down, and she knew it…

So, there’s that…

…

After I dropped her back off at the house, and gave her a treat as my departing gift, I headed out to my mom’s house. To start the trip, there is a quick stint of about six or so exits on the highway, before exiting for a ground-level Highway with a million stoplights and a surprisingly low speed limit for something called a state highway… anyway…

As I turned onto the feeder and headed the long road to the ramp onto the highway, I began really to feel the car’s power. I used to drive a new Volkswagen Jetta, manual, and was in love with the German engineering and the smoothness and classic-ness of the engine and steering and everything-to-do-with-driving of it. When I rented a new Volkswagen Beetle a few years ago, I was reminded of that fabulous engineering. Today, climbing up onto that highway ramp and overpass, my whole body reacted with memory and nostalgia at this experience of yet another classic case of stellar engineering. When the car felt like it was in its ‘chill space’, as I call the average vehicle’s 45mph feeling, we were going 85.

I might have gone a bit faster than that for a while, but I wasn’t paying attention to the speed anymore. I was feeling throughout my whole body the tingling sensation of memory combined with satisfaction and fulfillment. This is how a car should feel, I found myself thinking. This is a car.

And I meant it.

The top was down, the wind was blowing in just that way around, and I couldn’t stop smiling and giggling and laughing aloud, hard. I actually thought for a second, Wouldn’t it be silly if I cried right now? And then I noticed how my thoughts spoke without analyzing fully the situation… within seconds of having the thought, I noticed tears in my eyes. And not from the wind. I agreed with my thought, that it was silly, but I allowed the expression to be true and easy, and dove into my experience.

Driving this little car just felt right for me. It surprised me, but I could see that, now that I was trying on the idea, I truly want to make having one of these in my life happen – I want to have one of these 911s one day, to drive on the regular, wherever I may want to go in it. She is calling me, and I can finally hear it…

Vroom Vroom…

Post-a-day 2020

Extra ouch

Well, today felt like much of an improvement after yesterday. I tutored in the morning, finished up mixing six CDs for a student to have some exposure to French-language music – these have been taking me weeks of on-and-off effort to organize them out and pick which songs to include, which genres go where and belong at all, and figure out what degree of effort it is worth as well as how many CDs would be acceptable – messaged with a good friend about her wedding planning and tres leches and not feeling like working out, and then I worked out and watched a very interesting film of Natalie Portman’s. I want to look further into the film to see what it was all about, and whether it was inspired by a specific story or many or what. She sang very well in it, by the way, and I was quite pleased with her performance on all levels, especially the concert portion, which was a surprising yet lovely part to me. As for the workout: man, it had a 3k run in it, as well as 80 jumping up-downs (burpee without the push-up)… talk about a sore calf feeling the heat! Both calves have been sore for a few days now – I genuinely could barely go up and down the stairs two days ago, and walked with a limp, all because of my calves. Finally, when they show signs today of recovery, I have to put them through so much work. Ridiculous, just a bit, I dare say.

But the greatest part of the workout, I think, aside from doing it, was the part where I hung out in the pool afterward to relax and stretch out. That was awesome. Though, the effort to swim breast stroke for a few lengths of the pool felt like it might paralyze my arms, my shoulders and all were so worn out from today’s workout. 😀 Haha

Anyway, I’m off to read and sleep, now. Today was a lot in a good way, but it was nonetheless a lot, and I am exhausted. Goodnight!

Post-a-day 2020

Recuperation

Today, I did a lot of not much all day and evening. In fact, I woke up a few times throughout the morning, either because the dog was shifting around or because I needed to pee. But, every time, I went ahead and went back to sleep. It was overcast enough of a morning, plus the curtains in this room are rather effective, I was able to fall back asleep easily. I went to bed after one in the morning, sure, but getting up for the day at 1:45 in the afternoon is just plain nuts. I haven’t done that in years.

However, yesterday, and the proceeding few days had a whole combination of stressors for me, as well as the added lack of sleep that comes with an uncomfortable situation yet comfortable company (read friends). So, it really makes sense that I slept so much and so hard last night (and today, technically). I knew I was exhausted yesterday, especially since things were really getting to me in a way they only do when I am exhausted. So, even though I physically felt okay, I knew I was close to wiped. Thus the 12+ hours of sleep.

Then, after getting up for the day, I indulged in the candy that tempts from its jars, as well as a Tillamook ice cream bar (which was awesome, by the way) from a freezer filled with desserts. I did eat some real food, too, but the bulk of my calories today was likely the three ice cream bars and the finishing part of a tub of ice cream. However, I think I still ended up under my caloric requirements for the day, so my body gets to use its excess stores to handle the remaining caloric balance for the day.

Basically, I spent the day hanging around, either eating food or watching Disney movies, or even both at once. I took the dog on a training walk-run, and exerted some real physical effort this evening, but mostly just spent the day recuperating. And yes, recuperating is the right word – I wondered why I was so unbelievably uninterested in doing anything else throughout the afternoon and evening, and I realized that it was because I needed this non-effort… I needed the opportunity to readjust and revamp… I needed to spend today in a way that allowed me to re-empower myself, both physically and mentally. So, I slept physically for 12+ hours, and then I rested mentally the rest of the day.

And it did a really great job. I think tomorrow will be a joyful and bouncy day for me, now that I will have rested so much and so well. 🙂

I am grateful for such an opportunity.

Post-a-day 2020

Rain’s a’comin’

Okay, the grandparents are safely evacuated from the hurricane’s danger path, and I am mostly settled into the home where I am housesitting for the next couple weeks, both being on the Houston area. Hopefully the casual wind and rain forecast will turn out as expected here. I love storms, but prefer they be safe ones.

(Ha – I wonder if that has anything to do with the ups and downs in my life…)

Dear God and Universe, help is to be happy, healthy, holy throughout these storms this year, and going forward from them afterward.

Amen.

Post-a-day 2020

Swirlytop

I don’t have much to say right now, tonight. Except that I feel a lot of that old hurricane season waiting for the next 24-48 hours. It could be disaster, and it could be simply some winds and rain and no biggie whatsoever. It could not even do that much – the storm could turn elsewhere entirely, or dissipate immediately upon landfall. They all have happened in my lifetime, and more than once. I guess that, in a way, growing up in such a place, I find myself calmly in the middle of the total and extreme fear and concern, and of, its polar opposite, utter chill and calm and unconcern – it shall pass. Because they always do pass. Like final exams, next week, they will be over and done with, but there is a huge hurdle to get through them to next week. And all we can do is just prepare and then wait.

As I was saying recently to someone, having grown up in southeast Texas, hurricane season, somehow, always gives me a sense of at-home-ness. I guess it is kind of how I felt so comfortable with all of the earthquakes in Japan, because they happened so often (weekly, was the average where I lived). In a way, they were representative of my home there. So, I have this odd sort of affinity for earthquakes now. (In fact, when still living in Japan, it am earthquake didn’t happen for a couple weeks, I would feel so out of sorts, it seemed nuts. When finally one happened again, I felt like I could breathe more easily, more freely again.) And I think the link between hurricanes and my childhood, being with my family through them (and through their aftermaths), has me feel this sense of homeyness and comfort around hurricane season now.

Also, I am rather fascinated with the powerful display of this planet’s abilities of power. Air and water, two things we need to be alive, are the exact things that can take away this life via a hurricane. Yet there is beauty in their power, both figuratively and literally.

Funny: I just realized that I even felt incredibly at-home when we had typhoons in Japan. Just like home, I suppose was the feeling. Haha. How odd this all is…, but that doesn’t make it so any less.

Over the next couple or few days, there is a potential of two hurricanes to pass this way. We shall see what happens, I pray.

P.S. While this has never happened in my lifetime, I think there has never in known history been two such storms developing in the Gulf of Mexico at the same time. She’s kind of a one-storm-at-a-time kind of Gulf. ;P

Post-a-day 2020

The Body Of Life

My left hand has been going tingly and numb lately. And I don’t mean because I hit it on something or and carrying heavy items or anything else that could be cutting off the blood pressure in any circumstance. I mean because I move it a half inch forward or an inch backward, or any other number of regular movements or non-movements of the arm. Whatever my regular existence is, that has the to king and numbness begin.

I have been thinking that it is something in my shoulder, as the alignment there has been iffy for quite a while, and has lately been worse than usual. However, when my aunt looked at it tonight – she’s an awesome massage therapist, with extra emphasis on the therapist part of the job title – she concluded that it mostly wasn’t my arm or shoulder at all, but somewhere ever farther up the line. After some more poking around, and some noises from me, it was clear to both of us that its origins lay in my neck, all the way up at the base of my skull. So, the bottom of my head slash top of my neck have been affecting my whole arm and hand negatively recently.

It has me wondering, just from a little brain-playing a few minutes ago, if our body is representative of life, and, if so, if this is representative of pains and aches in our greater lives. Is such and such pain cause not by the thing that seems obvious, nor by the thing that makes sense based on all previous experiences and evidence, but by something even further up the line or down the rabbit hole… something w head never even considered, because it was so obviously this other thing causing the pains?

In other words, what if, by going more than just the extra step, the extra level, we were to look even further than we imagine makes sense or seems reasonable or likely to make a difference? If we did so, what might we discover? What might we be able to sort out for ourselves in life, if we didn’t stop after only the first or second why?

I’m certainly willing to give it a go, and to see what then happens. I’ve already had that in certain areas of my life. Perhaps this will give me that intense level of freedom in all areas of my life, as opposed to tingling and numbness in so many places, cause by the slightest of changes of position by myself. Because I am all too familiar with that tingling and numbness in my life. 🙂

Post-a-day 2020

Yikes

It has only been a few days of te air being warmer in the house, and already my acne has gotten significantly worse. Specifically my back, shoulders, and chest are suffering from abnormal numbers of individual blemishes appearing. Even my face has had a bit extra in the past two days. And this is normally the time in my menstrual cycle that produces the least amount of acne… so much for that right now. This merely adds to my experiential belief that a huge part of my acne is related to 1) getting sweaty and then 2) having things (mostly clothing) rub on that sweaty skin. Without the clothing part, it is never as bad, but it still can happen a bit. However, the two together really make the acne happen, no matter the time of month. Add onto it my week-ish or menstruation, and we have a recipe for an extremely uncomfortable-for-me amount of acne on my body. Ugh.

So, I suppose less clothing would be helpful over the next few days, to help to counteract the elevated temperature in the house. Racerback tanks instead of tees are the requirement now.

Ugh…. hassle.

Haha

I acknowledge my first world problem, as some might call it. That doesn’t make it any less annoying to be covered with acne when I already have found a way to prevent such a thing from happening… anyway…

Post-a-day 2020

First loves

I found myself thinking again today – after another long conversation with him, that is – of my high school boyfriend. We are certainly clear that we are of no romantic interest to one another anymore, and are fully satisfied in being friends. However, as I explained last night, there is a part of me that is only filled by him, un trou that likely never will be filled fully, as we never will be in a romantic relationship again. And that’s okay with me. What it had me wondering today was about the irony of my not wanting to be like all the world, yet fitting practically perfectly to the stereotype of the adage, “You never forget your first love.”

I never understood that before today, I think. I always wondered why people spoke so fondly of their first loves, yet they had let their first loves get away or disappear from their lives completely – what kind of love is that? Or so I always wondered. I realize now what it likely really is. When we love someone for the first time – even before we might understand what it means to love someone outside of our families – it is exactly the fact that we have never done it before and never experienced it before that it ends up staying with us throughout our lives. Without the opportunity or intention of keeping ourselves safe or preserved or protected, we dive into our first experience of love wholeheartedly, loving with all of our being, however we can find to love. We have no reservations, and no agenda either – we just live purely and truly and openly and fully. We have never lost our love, and so we don’t even try to cling tightly to it, or mistrust our own feelings around it – we simply love.

When the relationship ends, for whatever reason it may be, we have our first lesson in loss. Yet we, after having been so utterly invested in our love, can never hold anything against our first love. No matter how it ended, the experience of the love remains untouched, pure. But the ending of it keeps us forever on our guard, of course. Likely never again will we love in such a way. Never again will we be so reckless with distributing our love, as we may see it. The free love lives forever in that first and only fully free relationship of love, therefore inducing a nostalgic look of longing for yesteryear whenever we find ourselves reminded of our first love. I’m nowhere near old age, but I already experience just that around my first love.

And I am grateful for it.

I have no desire to reestablish that relationship, yet I always will be grateful for the opportunity to love so fully as I did with my first love.

Perhaps, just perhaps, this is a perfect opportunity to consider what value may lie in loving so freely again.

Post-a-day 2020