Tag: dreams

Like Nike

I did it.

I didn’t know that I would be ready to do it today, but, when I went to reply to a missed message from earlier today – well, temporarily forgotten, really, because I hadn’t known how to say no without being nasty or angry st the time – I somehow had the will and the desire and the ability to reply, and with ease. So, I did it.

I realized I never replied to this. It wasn’t intentional. I’ve been busy rather nonstop all afternoon and evening.

No, I don’t want to message about any of it. Too much to it all, you know? It’s been so long since you and I have talked, I think there’s just so much to fill in, it wouldn’t make sense over messaging.

It’s also been really hard for me not having you in my life, not knowing what or how you’re doing. I want you to have the space you need, but I really would like for us to reestablish our friendship together – see what kind of friendship we want to have, especially now that you have yet another big life change. I’ve been rather upset about it all for quite a while, but didn’t want to cause any trouble or bother you while you needed the time. And I’m not saying this to be mean or to hurt you – not in the least. I love you far too much for that. I have been afraid of just disappearing completely out of your life these past couple years or so, but I haven’t been able to put that fear into words until just this week, talking with my cousin about it all.

What do you think? Are you up for reevaluating and reestablishing what we want for our friendship going forward for now?

We shall see what happens next tomorrow. While I am somewhat terrified at facing whatever that “what” is tomorrow, I have faith that my words tonight were guided appropriately, and that their honesty will carry them well – whatever the result of this, it will be perfect, in some known or unknown way. God kind of just does that in life, you see. 🙂

Post-a-day 2020

Today

I’m not sure what to share today… I woke up later than planned but early enough, as hoped, and completed a workout before sunrise. It’s amazing the difference it makes 1) to have the coolest part of the day and no sunlight, and 2) to start off the day with exercise. I had only done the first part of the workout at one point, when I noticed how I already felt amazing… and more so than I have felt any morning lately, even when I have slept many more hours.

I called my mom, because she was messaging me, and kind of hung out with her as my workout neighbor over the phone for the first half of the workout. It was actually really cool, and I enjoyed it immensely. It was nice to have that same feeling of company that the workout class gave. Truly, it was a fabulous way to begin the day. It was so good, in fact, that I didn’t even realize that I had already mentally planned to do it again tomorrow, without even thinking about how I have only managed to do workouts every other day at highest frequency lately… I’m delighted for what feels like a true shift for myself here.

AND… dear me, my friend reminded me yesterday how “ice cream sandwich > some guy”. I had been preventing myself from having one or having any ice cream, because of my concerns around being not fit enough and whatnot. I ate and enjoyed the sandwich last night, got up and worked out as planned today (only the time was slightly different, but it was still the first thing I did and I had to get up early to do it), ran all my super important errands of the day (including a lovely and satisfying lunch with my mom), and then picked up veggies and ice cream and gelato from the grocer on the way back home. And I totally ate a couple bites of the gelato and several bites of the ice cream. Full enjoyment on that ice cream tonight, and still within the caloric goals for the day. Bamn! I can do this, derr. And, though I don’t want to have it all that often, due to the dairy and the sugar, I was comfortable today in the fact that it’s okay for me to have ice cream when ice cream is what I truly want to have. And, today, it was. And it was delicious and satisfying.

Tomorrow, another workout to start off the day! 😀

Oh, also, I met a lovely and adorable Australian Shepherd today… gosh, it was hard to stop rubbing and petting her, and to leave her to go home… she was lovely and super sweet… I want to snuggle now… haha

P.S. It is September now… what on Earth???

Post-a-day 2020

Progress

I think I have worked out some of the concern around my exercise and desperate motivations. Unfortunately, it is ridiculously hot these days, so it is looking as though my only logical option is to get up for the now-imaginary 5:15am classes again on the weekdays for my regular. Of course, it is almost midnight right now, but I have a laser hair removal session in the morning, so I won’t be able to work out in the afternoon – morning is my only option tomorrow.

Here’s to hoping I make it happen! ❤

Post-a-day 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

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

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