Rest in the knowledge

‘I mean, I love him, but if he’s not going to take his fitness seriously, then it’s not ever gonna happen,’ she says with casual comfort and clear honesty. ‘If he won’t even stretch, then no way…’ She is not upset in what she says, nor is she concerned. For her, it is clear that, if he isn’t the one, then he just isn’t the one, and she’s totally okay not spending any strain, stress, or brainpower on wishing, hoping, or dreaming for him to be the one. If he’s not, he’s not, and there’s someone better out there. If he is, then he’ll make it clear that he is, which will include caring about his well-being and honoring his own body. How can we love another, if we cannot love ourselves?

Be not afraid. God is with us, even and especially when we feel so utterly alone on the partner/relationship front. God, grant me the serenity to be your love in the world, even and especially in the face of no agreement in my life. Help me to do what only I can do to share your love in the world. Help me to fulfill on all I am capable of doing in this life, through your will and help. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2022

(Still have to think about that year…)

Family workout

This morning, when I offered to my friend to any site for her to go to the midday workout class, she told me that her dad already was going to babysit this afternoon, so that she could go to the late afternoon workout. And so, she and I went together to the workout, and her husband was able to finish work in time to make it, too. At one point, my friend commented that we were doing a “family workout” (I am currently living in their house with them and their dog and baby, recall.). And, you know, it truly did feel like a family workout, surrounded by loved ones who are part of my everyday interactions each day and night. It was awesome.

My friend mentioned at one point, either yesterday or today, something about my having only been here four weeks, and yet something something… but I was stuck on the part where she seemed to think it had only been four weeks. Really, it has gone by quickly and hasn’t felt very long, although we do all get on really well and understand each other’s schedules and all. But, see, this week is my seventh week here.

Kind of crazy… and I am incredibly grateful for all of it. Thank you, God, for such a blessing as it has been to live here these past almost seven weeks. I certainly will miss it. Keep us all feeling your love through one another as we move forward into the next chapter, please. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2022

Cookies

My girlfriend said her husband didn’t need the cookies, so to eat or take as many as I wanted. So, I took loads. I think she made around 40 cookies. I probably ate ten of them. I left four for her husband. Maybe he had a couple last night already. I took a box of them to school and made the day of several girls – they were certainly surprised to be getting delicious homemade chocolate chip cookies when they showed up to class! Then, I took another box-full of them to the boys’ soccer game tonight, and they delighted in the cookies after the games. One small act of love – my friend baking cookies for me to enjoy on Valentine’s Day – turned into exponentially larger acts of love. Put differently, this loved expressed by one person to another turned into love experienced by roughly 30 different people. And my friend doesn’t even know about it yet.

So, just remember that our love is way more powerful and impactful than we may ever know or likely ever could imagine. And it is always worth it to love, even when it seems almost insignificant.

Post-a-day 2022

(Yeah, almost got the year wrong again… I guess we are going back in time now…)

Be my Valentine

Today was a lovely, lovely day. We sorted it the apartment stuff – the first major step of it, anyway. Then I got my cream cheese king cake. We had a girls’ hangout that included an hour-long walk with the dog and baby and heart-shaped balloon on the stroller in gorgeous weather (and looking like we were a same-sex interracial couple with a mixed-race baby and a black dog [we seriously had all the main bases covered, aside from male, what with our being white, Asian, Mexican, and black females]). Then we chilled on the sofa for a girly movie and loads of chit-chat about anything and everything. I had hazelnut gelato that felt like eating hazelnut cheesecake, which was amazing. My other friend (the actual mother of the baby) spontaneously baked me chocolate chip cookies from scratch, then gave me some Prosecco in a fancy glass. We bathed the baby together, then hung out some more, just having an overall lovely, lovely time.

Tomorrow, I’ll get the few bites of Valentine’s Day candy from my mom, and give her the gelato and king cake remains, and then I’ll be done with the sugars and breads for quite a while again. (And boy will I be glad for it!)

Now, however, I must pass out – I am exhausted.

Post-a-day 2022

Guidance

Dear God, I give it all up to you. Guide me, please, to do as you need me to do in this world. Help me to plow the path that only I can plow, in order that your love be abundant through me and my life, a beautiful expression of your love and creativity. I trust in you fully, and I let it all go tonight. Your will be done. In your name, I pray. Amen. Hallelujah.

Post-a-day 2022

(Wow… ^ almost messed it up for the third night in a row here, even though I’ve gotten it so well for a while now)

Burning my a

Tonight, something burned away from me. Big time.

We had a whole day of events at church today, and it was really cool, right? Well, it all ended with Mass and then Adoration. For those who don’t know, Adoration is when a priest brings out the blessed sacrament and puts it on display for folks to adore. Put differently, it is an opportunity for people to sit in a physical presence of God, to look right at a physical form of Him. (The blessed sacrament is bread that has undergone transubstantiation, a change of form/state, into the exact form that was the bread Jesus, way back when in the Garden of Gethsemane, declared to be his body. The priests have a beautiful right – is it actually called a right?? Now, I’m doubting myself here… – in which they recreate Jesus’ words and actions, allowing for the bread and wine to become the body and blood of Christ, just as they were when Jesus declared them to be his body and blood.) It’s like having someone here in person, instead of over the phone – prayer, aka conversation, with one sitting right in front of us.

During Adoration tonight, there was some music, some prayer led aloud, and some silence. For part of the time, the blessed sacrament sat on the altar for all to see. And, eventually, the priests and deacons carried it slowly around the entire church – it’s a quite large church, you see – for everyone to be able to pray right up close to the blessed sacrament.

I tell you, every time I got to see it straight on, clearly, I suddenly lost the capacity to sing. All I experienced in those moments was intensity through my whole being, like a current being upped immensely in power. The words that suddenly filled my head were simply, “Love,” and, “My Love.” Every time.

And then, when it came around by us – I was even on the end of the pew, and they stopped almost exactly next to me – things went to a whole new level. As it turned the corner onto our aisle, my breathing became inexplicably heavy and fast. My tears turned into heavy, intense crying. I was in a sudden full-blown, desperation-type cry in mere moments. We were already kneeling, and I couldn’t even keep myself up – I fell to the ground… or, rather, I went from sitting tall on my knees to collapsing on my heels, holding onto the pew to keep myself from falling off the kneeler, my chin just above even with the pew back where I was holding myself still upright, but lower to the ground than before.

When they were within about a meter or two, I felt a sudden heat approaching me, coming from their direction. As they got next to me, I felt like the intensity of a sun was exploding outward from the small group of priests as deacons, the blessed sacrament at the center. My entire body was intensely hot, in a matter of moments and directly connected to the position of the blessed sacrament. As I roughly cried my heart out, my whole body shaking, I could feel something burning away from me, layers being penetrated and spots being dissolved in the crazy heat. It felt like a fever times two. I considered how I needed to take off my sweatshirt, also the jacket that had been covering the backs of my legs… yet I couldn’t make a move beyond crying and clinging to the pew, looking directly to the blessed sacrament, struggling to breathe calmly (and failing). I even felt one priest notice and look right at me as I fell downward, but I didn’t even look at him as I typically would do. I was pinned.

And then, this small eternity in the cosmos ended. The priests and deacons began to walk again, moving to the next spot. As they moved away, I could feel the temperature changing by small jolts with each step they took. Perhaps thirty seconds or so later, I found no need to remove my sweatshirt, as it was back to the winter cool it had been all day in the church.

And I collapsed even further, like all my energy had been spent, like after a long, long day of work and a nice cleansing shower, how I collapse into bed… it felt like that. I could barely even hold onto the pew back at this point, I just draped an arm on it to keep me from collapsing fully to the floor. My eyes could just see over the pew back, following the blessed sacrament still, but from a distance now. All my energy was gone. I had been well worn, it felt, well washed and scrubbed and cleaned. I tried singing a bit, and could only manage it when I couldn’t see the blessed sacrament directly. Every time I saw it, no sound was emitted from me, now matter how I may have intended.

I eventually got my energy restored and was even more energetic afterward than I had been all day today. My mom was asking the main priest about a quote afterward, and I joined them briefly as I returned from a bathroom trip. The priest recognized me from adoration – he remembered seeing me crying. I wasn’t embarrassed. Not in the least.

And I noticed that I felt so much more myself now, not so afraid or strained or stressed about anything anymore. Weight had been lifted, and from all of me, somehow. Now, I’m going to bed much later than I like or than usual. I am utterly exhausted. I do not know what is going to happen with my living situation or my financial situation. Nope. And, somehow, I’m not secretly incredibly stressed about that. We’ll just face that tomorrow and onward. May God’s way manifest clearly and beautifully, and may I embody it fully through myself in every way.

Post-a-day 2022

Gratitude, Dude

I was a bit nervous leading up to today, as I was going to be subbing with the boys again. It had been a while since I’d been with this school, and I’d gotten accustomed to working with the girls lately. I was slightly afeared.

However, by the end of taking role in my first class of the day, I was clear just how perfect it was that I was there today. I love these boys. Within the first few minutes of class, without even trying, they had made me feel so unequivocally at home, I was feeling a sense of total ease, belonging, and love. Yes, they are dopes. And I absolutely love them for it. Don’t get me wrong here: Girls are great. But there is just something about how I’m made that just has the boys feel so much more right for me. Even as a kid, I was more comfortable playing with and being friends with the boys than with the girls. Perhaps it was due in part to my siblings closest in age being boys. I always felt more distant from my sisters, what with there being a nine-year and 11-year age gap between us. Compare that to the three boys that were only seven, six, and four years older than I was, and it makes a bit more sense that I ended up a total tomboy throughout my childhood. I also just prefer the honesty and directness of males, as well as their willingness to be goofy. That makes a big difference for me, too, and played a big role in my seeking out male friendships over the years and to this day.

Anyway, thank you, God, for this blessing that has been today. It was glorious. May I continue to be part of the beautiful formation You are offering these boys here. In Your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2022

Bombshell, or just an actual bomb?

Whenever I see those gorgeously fit people – the ones who are basically the epitome of what we’re meant to do with the human body – I find myself just a little bit tense, stressed, on their behalves. I place upon them this ideal, somehow. Since they are practically perfect in this one visible right, they must be perfect in all the other rights, too. Their lives must be in order. They all must have a gorgeously fit partner or spouse, too, and an amazing house and car and job, and, basically, their lives are perfect. Right?
Except, I know their lives aren’t perfect. I know it is just an automatic judgment my brain makes, and that it likely isn’t the truth.
However, I always have found myself envying and, sometimes, slightly disliking these people for that envy, as though it were jealousy (that I can’t have something because someone else has it), even though their fitness has nothing to do with my own.
Now, that all being said, I must say: I believe I have become one of these people. No, I am not in the top tier of them, but I am definitely part of these incredibly fit individuals.
Yes, I am extremely grateful for this, for my intense efforts paying off so well. However, I also have found a certain degree of unexpected stress from my fitness. You see, now when I show up somewhere that is not the gym in anything that shows off my body or fitness, I feel almost weird. I almost feel like I need to hide myself, so as not to upset those around me who are so clearly not on the same level in terms of physical fitness. It isn’t always, but I sometimes see the looks people give me, and I can see that envy, the misplaced jealousy… even, at times, hatred. And these things hurt.
Part of me feels that it would be so much easier just to hide, just to allow the loud voices demanding inclusiveness and equality their way… and yet, where is the love there? When I am hiding myself in shame, in fear… what I have worked so hard towards having… When I am rejected for who I am… where is the love there?
I keep returning to Marianne Williamson’s quote about how my playing small does not serve the world… My hiding does not help… anyone, especially myself. I am here to love and to teach int this life. I am not here to cower. Hiding away or being ashamed of who I am is not honoring myself, my work, or God. I am God’s gift and an expression of His creativity in the world. When I am honoring myself and being my best self, I am honoring God. When I am ashamed of myself and hiding myself, so, too, am I doing that to God…
I understand all of what I have said here. I am convinced that it does not work for me to hide away or feel ashamed for my fitness and my fitness goals and pursuits. Yet, I still feel such pressure at being seen as ‘one of those fit people’.
Why?
I think it is because, to me, being rejected by others has been quite difficult in my life. I have had some very hard rejections from people in my life, on various levels. Oftentimes, they never even told me why I was being rejected, which made it even worse. Now, being rejected for my fitness isn’t about the fitness for me, but about its being yet another rejection.
Yes, that is exactly it. (I can tell, because that is what brought tears to my eyes just now.)
Okay, so, as my silly unicorn calendar said last year, I must remember that, whenever someone rejects me, The Universe is also protecting me from that person. For whatever reason, that person is not needed in my life beyond simply exiting it.
So, the people at my one job might not like me very much. But that isn’t because they know me. It is because they don’t know me. And because they weren’t willing to get to know me. If that is the case, then they aren’t people for my life in the long-run. It’s as simple as that. I want people in my life who both can and will love me. If they won’t get to know me, they never can love me. If I am hiding away myself, then those people still won’t get to know me and still won’t be able to love me. Therefore, be myself truly. If people reject me for that, it is for their own problems and struggles – it has almost nothing to do with me and everything to do with what my presence brings up from their memories about themselves. Being small serves No One and none. Indeed. Again as Marianne Williamson says, being true to myself and letting my own light shine will allow others to do the same for themselves. Though I likely will upset the loud few for being so gorgeously fit and for sharing that fitness with the world around me, the ones who are ready will take the opportunity as – consciously or not – inspiration for their own pursuits.
Therefore, honoring myself with my fitness, sharing it openly, also will be honoring and supporting those around me.
That’s quite cool, actually…
Post-a-day 2022

Sleepy

I didn’t go to the gym this morning, as going to bed at midnight after the opera just did not give my body the rest it needed to take on today, especially not with a workout to start it all off. So, I slept another two-ish hours, and that was barely enough to get by for the day.

After school, I got to go workout, though, despite my plans o babysit for my friend so she could go. Her dad came to watch the baby for 30-45 minutes while my friend drove to the my, and I finished working out and came home to take over the babysitting. I’m glad I got to work out, but, boy, I am wiped. The baby has a fever, which probably is playing a role in my present state of exhaustion – my body is probably working overtime right now (though, no fever for me, thank goodness).

At that, Imma sleep now. Goodnight.

Post-a-day 2022

Opera

Tonight, we saw a very unique production of The Magic Flute. It was awesome, but also rather bizarre. Rather than being a typical opera production, this one was done with inspiration from 1920s silent films. So, a massive white screen was the stage backdrop, and a projector created every scene, props and all, and a good chunk of characters, too. Pieces of the white screen would flip around like trap doors, revealing a person halfway up it or at the bottom or near the top, depending on the situation, and the projector would make their appearances and locations all make sense. They interacted with parts moving around in the projections all throughout, and it was really well done. Also, instead of spoken dialogue, they projected large words onto the screen itself, like in silent films, and had Mozart harpsichord pieces playing as the music, really making it feel like a silent film. And the actors as did a wonderful job of being believable in their roles in the film – it was stellar. And the Queen of the Night was the best singing performance I have ever attended for that role. Just wow

Go check it out this week at Houston Grand Opera, if you’re in Houston!

Post-a-day 2022