Being myself

Yesterday, I listened to the German audiobook for “Bis(s) zum Morgengrauen”, which is somehow one of of my favorite audiobooks (the beginning and first third of it, anyway), while I made brunch and sunflower seed butters.

All turned out delicious.

I did not leave the house the entire day.

The entire day.

And I was totally okay about that.

At night, I hung fort my prayer flags, and then a bunch of paintings that I pulled out from a corner box.

My space is finally looking like I live here – I think this is the longest I’ve gone without making my space home-y.

Usually, I do it right away, hanging things and making my space feel like home…, but, for various reasons, I was concerned about doing it here, and so never did it, which meant I never fully unpacked and that I never fully felt at home here.

After last night’s decorating, I’m actually excited to come home and do some more throughout the week – and I already feel so welcomed whenever I enter my space, and it is lovely.

Today, for the second day in a row, I slept in past 9am (which is not necessarily all that late, but seems like it when compared to a 4:10am weekday alarm).

I again listened to my beloved audiobook while cooking and eating brunch and lunch, as well as cooking dinner for the week.

I then power washed the whole front walkway and house steps and front wall – and it looks amazing now!

I talked with a friend briefly while doing part of it.

I then rushed upstairs to clean off my legs, put on some socks, grab my white tennis shoes, and then head off to a gallery closing party I’d wanted to attend.

I even invited someone to go with me after I was already on the way, and didn’t really expect it to be a yes on the other person’s part.

It was a no, and I went anyway, and comfortably.

I had asked myself what the person I want to be would do…, and she very clearly would have gone to the opening alone, and so I went with confidence.

I even tried out those glasses the eye doctor gave me way back a few years ago, to see if they might work out (I had some trouble catching lacrosse balls the other week, and hit myself, causing me to be worried about my eyesight.).

At the closing party to this blacklight art show, I felt like I was walking into a college party – it was dark, blacklight lit, and smelled of pot and alcohol and a little bit of sweat.

And yet I walked in confidently and comfortably, and merely laughed at the idea altogether: college after college (again).

See here some choice selections from the show:

Cool, huh? πŸ˜›

Afterward, I went to Whole Foods to pick up my new helmet, and then stayed there a while to get my necessary steps for the day, as has been my practice on previous occasions, as well.

Eventually, I returned home, ate a final bit of food, enjoyed my homemade sunflower seed butter, had olives as a kind of dessert to my dinner, and then came up to get ready for bed.

I am going to bad far too late, but I have not yet perfected being exactly the person I want to be, so I accept it – I did loads that was true to myself this weekend, so I’m actually rather okay with having this one thing be off.

Here’s to amazingly restful and refreshing sleep tonight! πŸ˜‰

Post-a-day 2019

Sharing is caring (world peace edition)

Is it wrong to be excited about sharing a negative experience with another?

I mean, to feel excited at discovering that a friend and I each have gone through similar bad experiences – is that so bad, feeling excited about it?

At first glance, it sounds off – being happy about not just myself but someone else having to go through a bad experience.

However, upon consideration, my opinion of it improves – in fact, it even seems a wonderful thing, this excitement.

You see, it is not that I am excited that we each suffered – not at all.

I am excited that we are able to share so fully and deeply and truly with one another, be so vulnerable and open with one another, and that we are both able to find someone who understands…, and, possibly most importantly, someone who loves us nonetheless for what we share openly.

And, in having that excitement happen, and in having that sharing and love happen, we are bringing positive out of two negative situations.

So, in a way, I guess it’s like multiplications: two negative stories, when shared across our two lives, make a positive.

(Yes, I enjoyed that dorky/nerdy moment.)

So, yeah…, share away your tough and deep and true stories, people – be open and vulnerable with one another.

I think it might just be one of the best ways for us to learn to love each other best.

Aka world peace. ❀ ❀ ❀

Post-a-day 2019

Another day full of energy

I asked God and the World to have me do what was best today, what was perfect.

Apparently, that turned out to be waking up at 3:37am to use the bathroom, and then going back to bed, only to go ahead and get up at 3:47 and begin my day, instead of waiting for my 4:10 alarm.

Then doing a solid workout at the gym, and heading to school for the team’s morning working, and catching just about every traffic light along the way, adding a full ten+ minutes to the drive – I kept asking, What are you having me avoid by being pushed back in my time path here?

Then forgetting until it was too late to grab a student and schedule a meeting with him.

Then passing a different way in the way to my room, only to discover that we could have great breakfast in the mornings – and then to have a delicious omelette and few sips of orange juice that satisfied every nutrient need for my body post-exercise and the general morning activity of the previous four hours.

Then organizing class materials, helping someone develop a good idea into a great one while I got myself some autumn tea, grading a bunch, and then sitting down outside in the shade for twenty minutes with an old priest on my way to lunch, discussing various aspects of the workings of his community’s life, plus a bit about language and culture – I’m working on getting him to offer masses at least weekly in French (which would be a great increase from the current ‘zero ever’ frequency).

Then my being shown love by a couple students as I obtained my lunch and took it to eat.

Then happily chatting with coworkers and showing a test to the department head for approval.

Then kicking a kid out of class and partly scaring the rest of the class.

Then forgetting about the kid for most of the class period, and eventually remembering and finding him sitting outside on the floor, joining him, and having a wonderful talk with him in which he Fi-Na-Lly got it, and due to which he now intends to pause to consider before Everything he does – you see, he discovered that he just really doesn’t think at all before acting, thus resulting in some terrible behaviors.

Then being silly yet helpful with my next class, and having an oddly at-home comfy environment for class as they did their test review work, and scheduling a morning meeting to help a student.

Then perfectly running into the person I was seeking when I was only halfway to where I was going to find him – and my being slightly disappointed at the journey being cut short, as I would not be able to run into another person I sought to schedule a meeting.

Then having to pause to use the bathroom, running into some students, and finally heading out.

Then, just as I was about to pull out of the parking lot, being flagged down by the exact person I’d hoped to cross earlier, and talking for a bit and scheduling our meeting for tomorrow.

Then singing, unsure as to why, a German praise and worship song that repeats, “Ich vertraue dir…” (“I trust you…”), and laughing at myself, first for singing that song with such sudden delight, and second for the struggle that is riding a Vespa/motorcycle with an open-faced helmet while singing – better watch out for bugs…

Then having to order a new helmet… πŸ˜›

Then running a silly errand to print something and it taking a crazy amount of time, while I gladly enjoyed the presence of someone I love and rarely see.

Then sharing something wonderful with my mom.

Then finding Crown Maple Syrup (not alcohol, but syrup that was aged in the barrels after the alcohol was bottled out of them, allowing the odor to soak into the maple), and sharing the discovery with family who were delighted.

Then coming home to Sunflowers and stacks of colored paper just inside my back/side door, sitting outside on the porch for a while, cooking and eating dinner, and heading up to shower and to ready myself for bed.

Then reflecting on the day, and discovering how so much of it were things that I could have seen as bummers as they happened, but that I allowed just to be as they were, without meaning…, and how beautiful it was – without forcing anything or stressing about anything – to have all that I desired in the day to fall beautifully into place, loads better than I had initially anticipated.

Life really does go beautifully when we let go and let God… that was my high school junior retreat theme, and it was awesome then, and remains to be awesome now – it works every time. πŸ™‚

Well, I’m off to sleep, for an early morning meeting, preceded by an early morning workout, waits for me(!).

(I promise I’m still not a morning person…)

Post-a-day 2019

Sunday, fun day

I painted today.

Twice.

I really enjoyed it, and it made me want to do loads and loads more, and kind of right now.

Something about painting feels addicting – the everything about it, really – and I love it.

My mom was attending a workshop demonstration, and I went to watch and learn the technique, but there were extra spots available, so I even got to participate.

Then, I took home our leftover paint bits, and used them as the first part of the bedsheet I am painting with mixed splatterings of color for a photography backdrop.

On that note, my mom has figured out what to get to make my frame (because I did my measurements this morning) for a backdrop in my sort of pop-up photography studio.

I told her that I want to do photos either next week or the week after, so we need to kick things into gear two or three at this point, and we have.

So, she’s getting the frame stuff hopefully tomorrow.

I’ve asked the model for her schedule in general and on the desired week.

And I even made a Facebook page for my photography, in addition to the Instagram page I already have for it.

I don’t love the Facebook page yet, but it exists and it isn’t bad… shown here.

All of this has arisen out of a visit with a good friend of mine last night at the party.

It lights me up, and I had forgotten that, so I am extremely grateful to our conversations last night. ❀

(Although, I dare say I am not yet convinced of her other ideas and recommendations regarding my [non]dating life and my next steps… we’ll have to see on that one…) πŸ˜›

On a separate note, I lived a short time in a little town in southern Germany several years ago.

I was looking up someone this morning who lives there, checking out his company for which he had given me a card at one point, and which I crossed today.

Tonight, as I see the Instagram story of an old student, I see a photo that looks crazy-familiar to me… I click to see the video that is freeze-framed, and recognize the place even more still… I feel like I know not just the town but the little park area where this video is taking place…

I check, and the location is the right little city – hoorah!… I’m a genius, as we all know!

I then go check some photos of mine and – duh du-du duhhhh – it is exACTly the spot I was thinking…. I even have photos of the same buildings.

Shown here:

The video freeze-frame

My photos at the same location,
though from a slightly different angle

Isn’t that nuts?!

Super cool, though.

I love things like that happening.

I remember once talking with a pair of people who were recent visitors of Rome, and one shows the other a photo in front of Trevi Fountain, at which point the other pulls out his phone to show the same lady in the background of his photo as who was in her photo – they had been there at the same time, and had the same woman in the background of their photos from different angles.

They, of course, hadn’t known each other at the time, and so wouldn’t have noticed to greet one another, and therefore did not notice one another.

Anyway, fun stuff, right?

…….

One other thing I want to note about conversations from last night:

When discussing the whole recent conversations with a girlfriend and guy regarding physical comfort and confidence (see here), I was mentioning how the guy had said that I needed to worry less about what other people think, as part of sharing the conversation.

At this point, however, a friend across the room cut in, “Okay, wo-wo-wo-woah…. someone said You need to stop caring so much about what people think??…..”

“Mmhmm,” I start to reply, but she continues over me, addressing me and the room at large.

“Does he know you, like, at all??… I don’t think I know anyone who cares less about what other people think than Hannah…”

The other friends in the room give their agreement confidently, and we all begin popcorning smiles and laughter around the room as people give further comments and repeat what the guy had told me, amazed.

I hadn’t thought much about it, but I definitely see her point – I really don’t care much about what other people think of me.

I do care, but only so much, and that ‘so much’ is a whole lot less than the average person’s level of concern for what other people think of him/her.

For the most part, I worry only in the situations that could directly affect me, like avoiding doing something that would have my boss/superiors wanting to fire me, or something like that…. and my only other sensitive area is specifically making sure my body doesn’t come across as displaying the message, ‘Do me now, oh, baby, oh, baby.’

Because, unfortunately, that one can result in actually dangerous situations…, so as I’ve mentioned before, I care about my own safety, and therefore will care accordingly about how people perceive me…

Otherwise, though, it’s laughable how often I do things that most people would avoid for fear of what others might think.

Aka constantly…

Anyway…., goodnight fair World.

I am off to sleep for an early, early rising tomorrow.

Sweet dreams unto you.

Peace

Hannah

Post-a-day 2019

Saturday

(I’ve decided to share about Class 101: the laughing out loud class, instead of 100, so that’ll come next week.)

I went to the workout this morning, and it was rather uneventful but that my friend and I finished second in the workout, and there were a lot of people there today… we just found a beautiful way to get through the push-ups, and it worked perfectly – when other people seemed to take forever on the push-ups, we slammed through them quite quickly.

After the workout, I practiced and improved my double-under jump roping, and was glad for it.

I then went home and made a spice cake from the grain-free/flour-free zucchini brownie recipe I’ve been using, but this time used cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, and ginger instead of cocoa powder… and it was delicious.

I discovered that I have no interest in going to Minute Maid Park, due to their security requirements that prevent me from having any form of protection, as well as a reusable water bottle (even empty)…, and so I did not go to the Astros game to which I had been just invited.

I did go to a house party – not the jammin’, drug kind, but the friends hanging out together kind – instead, and it was wonderful.

However, on the way to the party, on my way to stop at the new grocer to pick up plates that were requested for the party, I found myself at a stoplight next to car crammed with young guys (adults, but still younger than I am) who clearly had just played a soccer game together – the matching jerseys and sweaty hair kind of gave that one away.

As I turned and saw the front seat guys looking my way, the back window rolled down, and three faces looked out at me, smiling.

“I like you’re scooter.”

Ha…, “Thanks.”

“Does it go fast?”

I shrug, knowing fully that their borderline joking comment is about to choke them, “I’ve gone eighty on it,” I say, quite casually.

Their eyes pop open wider than one could have imagined, and their mouths opened wide, ready to catch some flies…

Eighty?!

“Mmhmm… It’s a big scooter, 300ccs,” I add quickly, smiling, before driving off, for the light has turned to green.

At the next stoplight, the car pulls next to me again, the back window still down, the boys smiling bigger than ever.

“Long time no see,” they laugh together.

I laugh and smile broadly.

“Do y’all know where the HEB is?” I ask, having just been wanting to be able to ask someone (which was why I had even looked over to their car in the first place).

“Yeah! It’s on this street,” one says, pointing forward and to the right side a bit, confirming my thoughts.

“Okay, thanks!”

“Are you going grocery shopping?”

“Can you put your groceries on there?”

“Are you going to carry groceries on that?”

“Do you need help?”

The sudden rapid fire of their near-simultaneous questions knocks me back a tad, and makes me smile and chuckle even more than I already had been doing.

“Yes, I can carry groceries, yes, I’m going to the store now,” – “Really?” – “and no, I don’t need help.”

I then drive off again at the newly green light, and see them take off not far behind me.

As I slow and pull into the HEB parking lot, I both see and hear them passing me one final time, saying a few more positive comments that make me laugh (though I do not at present remember what exactly they were – I was focused on the turn and figuring out the parking lot and watching out for stupid people in cars in the lot, but I remember that they were pleasant comments of well-wishing).

I enter the garage fully chuckling fro the hearty spot on my belly, lips super wide on their glorious, teeth-filled grin position – I just had my first fanboys, I think to myself, and smile all over again.

Post-a-day 2019

β€œThe oven looked awesome and so did I”

I asked him why he took the photo, and he replied honestly,

The oven looked awesome and so did I hahaha πŸ€·πŸ»β€β™‚οΈπŸ€¦πŸ»β€β™‚οΈ

He, of course, corrected “oven” to “ocean”, but I knew what he meant.

He was not being conceited, nor was he being rude or nasty or macho or anything else negative… he was sharing truly with me, openly and honestly.

It was a gorgeous photo of a gorgeous swimsuit-donned, tanned, and tattooed man on a spectacular scene of two-toned blue ocean water and a blue sky of yet another blue, and the man was smiling with practically no eyes, so large and true was his grin.

I would have longed to have taken such a photo – I would be proud of it for him…, but I would be terrified of such a photo of myself.

To come across as sexual, even sexy, at times, has been ingrained in my mind to equate wrongness, shame, something terrible for myself and the world.

I have only recently begun to appreciate such images of others, and am working on valuing such an image of myself – in accepting it as appropriate as part of my human expression in this life.

My next step in that process, I feel, is being comfortable with a photo like the one I had discussed with this guy tonight.

As he mentioned in our conversation, the intention behind the photo was to show something beautiful – his father had declared the scene and the son as gorgeous, and so photographed what stood before him (as I gladly would have done)… he was not trying to catch anyone’s eye, or get anything out of it – he was just sharing the wonderful memory and scene with the world (for which I and everyone else I know who has seen the photo have been grateful).

So, I want to create some photos of me that are beautifully gorgeous and that I would want to share with the world for their beauty, and then I want to share them with the world.

Yes…, that is my next step. πŸ˜›

Let’s do this. πŸ™‚

P.S. Our whole conversation began out of a conversation my friend and I had, regarding our shared experiences of body image (though from different backgrounds and for different reasons), after she posted this, which included a somewhat sultry photo of her posing on the beach.

She is still Christian, and more beautiful than ever in her confidence…, and I regularly use her as inspiration in my own life, to help me to challenge my own fears and struggles in life that I have yet to transform.

Post-a-day 2019

We Are People First

Sometimes, it is important just to remember that, as my stepfather has always said, we are people first.

Above everything else and before everything else, we are all people.

Whenever I forget this fact, I get stuck in my head, I grow nervous, and I even panic at times… I become afraid of not being wanted or loved, and define any form of rejection as a direct statement of my un-lovability (which, I know, is false, but which still manages to put in a word here and there in my mind, and will share as often as I’ll let it).

But, when I remember that we are all just people, I remember that it is okay to talk to one another, to say what I want to say… I can offer my help, I can ask questions, I can be interested in the lives of others and in being a part of them… I can do all of this, and, even when I am rejected, I can be bummed briefly, before accepting that it’s really okay – this particular situation just wasn’t meant to go the way I had hoped it would go, and, now, something even better is somewhere on the way.

πŸ™‚

This weekend, I was rejected.

And it was okay.

Today, however, I was not rejected, but rather accepted.

I believe letting go of my fear and just talking allowed for me to be at ease and for things to flow comfortably.

Yeah…, it went well. πŸ™‚

And, through it all – this weekend and today – I remained true to myself, which, next to being open with one another, is the most important part of it all.

Yeah πŸ™‚

So, yay, me!

Haha πŸ˜›

P.S. The potential drama referenced yesterday is still not handled – though, God did give me a bit of a funny, ironic moment in the middle of it all, which, somehow, helped immensely… I’m still very unsure about things with it, but I’m trusting God to help me do what is best for us all.

Post-a-day 2019

Scary Movie Drama

Some days, after reading a book or watching a film, we find ourselves wondering why our lives aren’t so interesting as in the lives of these stories.

Why do our lives not have such rising action, climax, and denouement over and over again on such a grand scale as the lives of these main characters.

We are the main characters of our own stories…, so why don’t we get such clever treatment as those characters in the book and movie stories?

And then, after a slow creeping up from behind, we are engulfed by a possible and sudden catastrophe – a rising action, ready to turn to a terrible climax at a moment’s notice, to be given by some unknown-to-us force…, and we discover that we really would prefer not to have such drama and climax as those people have in the films and novels…, that we really are incredibly content with our formerly-seen-as-boring lives, and that we would prefer to continue them on the path they already seemed to have been taking for years and years, free from the happy drama, but also free from the sad and upsetting drama…

Or, perhaps, that is just something I have happen, and something that I do…

Thus my current potential to panic, as I pray, intend, and hope that my life will remain as I have known it to be: un-sad/scary-film-like in its action and climaxes…

Post-a-day 2019

Football

I had never been to one of my school’s football games without being in the band.

Tonight, I simply attended a game as a guest/patron (for free, of course, since I work there).

I didn’t know where to sit (or do they all just stand?).

So, I went and sat with the band. πŸ˜‚

Although, I technically sat next to it while it was there, because that was where the orchestra director, whom I knew, was hanging out, and he invited me to join, once I found him.

But, when the band went down for half-time, I sat in the band section with him to help keep other people out of it.

Nevertheless, I basically sat with the band.

It was a good enough evening, I suppose, though in large part due to the conversation I had with someone about modeling and high fashion and photography – we’re going to do some photos together, and we’re both excited about them. πŸ™‚

I did somewhat miss being in the band, though.

However, I enjoyed it lots in high school, because I sat next to a bunch of older, handsome boys, so the dorky, skinny, boys, combined with the required dance movements of the band tonight really had me not want to be a part of it… it mostly just made me miss my old band days and people a little more than usual.

P.S. I have had a headache and a sense of nausea nearly the entire day today (and night thus far)…. ugh!!!

Post-a-day 2019

Si tu savais…

Si tu savais… comment je doute… parfois

Si tu savais….. ce que je ne dis Γ  personne d’autre….

Si tu savais…..

There’s this song by the francophone (I think he’s actually French, but I’m not sure) singer who goes by the mononame Corneille, called “Si tu savais”.

The title means, “If you (only) knew” (the only being a matter of what the phrase is intended to mean by its use).

Those lines were repeating in my head tonight, and had me wondering about the song and about my life.

I don’t know the rest of the words to the song – I first heard it when I knew very little French, so not much stuck, and I still get lost in the rhythms nowadays, because I’d grown so accustomed to doing it when I was back in high school – and so I can’t even guess knowledgeably as to the purpose or meaning of the song as a whole.

I only know my own initial interpretation based on those few lines and the desperate, melodious, melancholy that is the tone of the song, the feel of the music.

To me, he is singing, as I mentioned, in a sort of desperation and pain… either he wants to tell her everything, but he is afraid she won’t want him anymore, or he fears telling her everything, because she thinks he is the best thing ever, but he is telling her in the song how he has faults… or, even, she thinks he is full of himself, and he is telling her how he is not… or perhaps he is telling her how he only shares openly with her, but she doesn’t realize it, nor that it means he loves her… whatever the case, if only she knew… how imperfect and insecure he really is… how much he loves her… if only she knew…

Whatever the case, these lines hit me in a new way tonight – considering the song as though it were based on someone’s real life, I asked myself how it could apply directly to my real life.

When would I say the words, “If only you knew,” in such a manner as Corneille in this song?

What do I not say to anyone else?

What would I want to say to the love of my life and not to anyone else?

What do I wish I could say to others, and not have to worry about being discarded, neglected, expelled, despised, etc. from whatever facet of life those listening occupy?

And it is this last one that really got me the most, I think.

I wish I could share my greatest faults and fears, the way the werewolves do in the Twilight books – just get over it, please… it’s a girly story, sure, but the creativity is definitely there, and you comedy bits are all over the place, making it a true delight even for me, not just an okay story, as so many declare it (mostly after only seeing the movies) – where they can’t hide their thoughts, feelings, emotions from one another, and the whole pack accepts the rest of the pack willingly… they all know the minds of the rest, and they all still respect, love, and care for all the rest (even if some do get on others’ nerves from time to time).

In that kind of world, we wouldn’t have to worry about our secrets – everyone would know everyone’s mess-ups, and so we’d kind of have to get over it pretty darn quickly, if we wanted to function in life.

I enjoy that people no longer are allowed or able to judge me by my age (because I don’t give it to them anymore), but I would be willing to give that up, in exchange for all my sins, so to speak, to be washed away from concern of being (1) found out and (2) held against me.

Could you imagine?

I almost can, but not very well… I think I’m mostly just afraid of the idea, because I don’t trust people enough…

J’ai pas trop confiance en eux, en fait…

Post-a-day 2019