Tag: goals

Give some credits

At the end of a good movie or show, when the credits music is right, I love to dance to it. Especially if the movie was a happy one and one where things were accomplished, I am already in a celebratory and happy mood. Put on some great music that makes one want to move, and I am so on board. I, too, want to accomplish things and be happy and take on the world successfully, like they did in the movie (or, sometimes, show). The story followed by the music just makes me want to jump up and dance wild and freely right there in the living room. I love living room dancing period, and this is one of those living room dancing times that is particularly goofy and fun. It’s just great and so freeing…

I have yet, however, to find anyone since my childhood who enjoys doing this with me. When I first began visualizing the partner I wanted to have in life, back as a teenager or, possibly, pre-teen, I had these visions of the two of us dancing together in the living room of a cabin-in-the-woods type of house, in front of the fireplace, on the big living room rug. I wanted this to be a nightly occurrence, really.

Alas, that has yet to happen. It has partly happened, in that I got my man to dance with me a couple times to this long, thrumping song that plays at the end of the Mandalorian episodes. But that’s it for the living room dancing. Otherwise, I’m the only one who hops up after a film to dance around and have fun. I seem to be the only one who’ll dance around at all, really…

Guess I’ll have to work on that with him, because I really want to dance with him both at home and at dance things and anywhere at all. My first guess is that he likely is like most people – how I myself was at one point – in that he likely feels a lack of confidence in his ability to ‘dance around’ or dance spontaneously and freely/free-form, and so feels embarrassed whenever he attempts it, and, therefore, avoids it.

Here’s to hoping we can resolve whatever it is for him that holds him back from being silly and dancing with me, because it is such a wonderful experience to go wild with dancing in the living room. Cheers.

Dear God, please, heal us all. In your name, we pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

Cutting it close

Sometimes, things don’t feel like they’re getting close. It doesn’t feel right now like I am getting closer and closer to completing my course. It not only feels like I’ll be cutting it close to my self-given deadline. It feels more like cutting… it almost hurts like actual cuts, not having more done already, not progressing faster… failing so much… it just hurts…

Post-a-day 2023

Semi-on-schedule

I slept in until noon today, actually sleeping for a change. Granted, we went to bed around two something, so I actually only got just over nine hours of sleep. However, it was real sleep this time, only interrupted briefly by a need to use the bathroom a couple times. I fell right back asleep after each, which is huge. I knew I was tired, but didn’t know if this sinus infection would let me sleep. I am grateful that it has lessened enough to let me sleep. I pray for good sleep tonight, too.

Thank you, God, for sleep last night. Please, grant me good and healing sleep tonight. Heal me, please. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

Mother’s Day

Has anyone else ever struggled on Mother’s Day, due to the sudden overwhelming amount of everyone your own age and even significantly younger putting up photo after photo of how happy they are being mom’s? For some reason, that hit me really hard today, and I was in actual tears over it all. It felt like a slap in the face, over and over again… like they and God were just dangling their joy in front of me, showing me what I still cannot have yet have wanted for so long. Though, I suppose it would not be God dangling something like that – that would be more akin to the work of the devil, would it not? ‘Go ahead, covet what they have,’ he might say, ‘Hate them for it,’ he would encourage, ‘Be angry with your God.’

But I shall not. I shall do just the opposite.

Dear God, thank you for my current state. Thank you for not making me a mother or a wife sooner in this life. Thank you for giving me the man who is perfect for me and for whom I am perfect. Thank you for helping us to become perfect for each other before we met. Thank you for giving us the time and experience to let go of and get over so many things that do not serve us or you. Thank you for taking the time to work on us before we get to be together and get to be parents. Thank you for such care and concern and love. Thank you. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

Good start

Today was a success! Yay! Sure, there were definitely some moments of awkwardness, and I also had to sit around and wait for an hour and a half, simply because certain people did not communicate a schedule change to others. However, it all worked out okay, and I even got to walk around the festival for a while with my mom. I also got to sit in a shaded VIP area for a while with my mom and just hang out and rest somewhat. Both opportunities were great and greatly appreciated.

What’s more, my man built almost the whole chicken coop today!! ** So, an extra yay!! Yay!!

Thank you, God, for a successful day for us all. Grant us peace and purpose always, and heal all of us, please. In your name, I pray. Amen.

**I only just a few days ago re-learned – because I definitely knew this before – that it is a “chicken coop,” and not a “chicken coupe.” To be fair, I once read a joke, after having already heard my cousin tell it, that kind of made me mess up my spelling of the word.

Relevant joke that is meant to be said and not written: Why doesn’t a chicken coop have four doors? Because then it would be called a chicken sedan.

Though, the written joke had “coop” spelled already as “coupe,” which really messed me up. Also, I never understood the joke, because it was also worded poorly, instead saying something like, ‘Why does a chicken coupe only have two doors? Because otherwise it would be called a chicken sedan.’ I massively struggled with this version of the joke, because I only knew of chicken coops that had just one door. So, the premise alone didn’t make sense to me. Nonetheless, the idea of the joke is cute and comical. Imagining a “chicken sedan,” whatever that is, as well as a “chicken coupe,” is quite a fun game to play in the brain. Give it a go! Vroom-vroom!

Post-a-day 2023

But Why Guns?

Okay, to clarify, as I realized I might never have done so:

I am working on my comfort around and with guns. Why? Because I noticed how utterly uncomfortable and incapable I was with them. Let me explain.

***Note: If you don’t want spoilers for Fifty Shades of Grey, don’t read the following.***

When I read the Fifty Shades of Grey books – yes, I read them eventually, and as audiobooks… not sure I could have continued reading if I’d been reading them as text! – I eventually got to the part where Anna opens Christian’s desk drawer and finds a gun sitting there. Her immediate reaction is that she proceeds to pick up the gun, she checks if it’s loaded, and then she sets it back down in the drawer. At no point does she express any nerves or unease at doing any of this. Her only thoughts are of why he might have the gun in the first place, as it surprised her to find one in his desk drawer.

Initially, I was panicking. I felt like some accident would ensue from her unintentionally mishandling the firearm. But then I remembered that her stepdad, who helped raise her, was a military man who had taught her everything he knew how to do. So, she likely had grown up knowing guns very well and using them comfortably and with ease. She wasn’t being unsafe by picking up this handgun. She was actually been even safer than Christian had likely been with the gun, as she truly knew what she was doing with it and how to handle it safely.

I was awed. When I thought about it, I was certain that I could not have done what she had done – check if it was loaded – even though that was about as simple as it gets with firearms. If I ever were to come across a gun or, God forbid, please, have to fight one away from an attacker, I wouldn’t even know how to pick it up and know that it wouldn’t fire as soon as I touched it. I knew not to touch the trigger itself, but that’s about all I knew. I couldn’t even turn a weapon in to the police if I crossed one. So, how would I make sure no one else came across it on accident, if I didn’t even know how to pick it up and unload it? And, God forbid, if someone were to attack and have a gun, if the gun got loose, how I could pick it up safely and keep it away from the perpetrator, let alone use it for defense, if needed?

What’s more, later in the book, she actually carries the gun with her, fully concealed, and then saves her own life by using it at the right time as she is being attacked by a man who means, likely, to kill her.

My mind was doubly blown by that part, especially considering we the readers don’t even know she has it until she draws it… I think, anyway… Nonetheless, this again brought up that I wouldn’t even know how to go about any single part of that whole scenario, let alone the whole thing. In addition to everything else about it, I just kept wondering how on Earth she knew she wouldn’t accidentally get shot with the gun in her waistband…

This determined for me that I knew too little about firearms and weapons handling.

And, for whatever reason, this weighed heavily on me for years after reading the book. Eventually, I knew I had to do something about it, and somewhat soon.

Last year, I had the opportunity for someone, in the comfort of a home, to show me how to take apart a semi-automatic handgun – think of the most typical black handgun you can imagine, and that’s what that means – and to guide me to do it all myself and put it all back together myself, including unloading and loading each bullet into the magazine.

Once I finished it all, I set the weapon down on the counter and declared I was finished for the day. The weapon was put away directly, and we raked some more about what all we had just done and discussed. It was absolutely terrifying for me, but extremely informative and good for me to do. Talk about having courage… courage was what got me through it all, along with the grace of God. This was important to me to learn – truly learning and getting to know something removes a great deal of fear from it, as history has shown us often, especially with peoples*.

I went through a similar thing with makeup. Once I learned how to do all the fancy stuff – and I do mean all of it – and I was comfortable with it all, I no longer was afraid of wearing make-up. Sure, I actually wear make-up even less now than before all of that, but I have no anxiety around make-up anymore. And I truly only wear it when I want to wear it. And I can pick it up on the fly and do it easily, every time. Basically, that’s how I want to be with guns. I’m not trying to become a competitive shooter and gun-hoarder for any zombie apocalypse or anything. I just want to be able, should the need ever arise, to handle and, if needed, use a firearm both safely and effectively.

Thus my reasons for working on my relationship with guns. I highly encourage everyone to lean into those intense fears that could change your life for the better, let alone possibly save it one day. I believe that, when we learn about what we fear, we have the potential to transform for the better the world that we face every day.

*Yes, I mean that plural use exactly as I wrote it.

Prayers

When I first learned how the rosary wasn’t just an “Our Father”, ten “Hail Mary”s, and a “Glory Be”, I was overwhelmed with how long and complicated it was. It seemed an impossible prayer setup, and far from being meditative.

And, for most of my life, it was just that. I had to look it up every time to read it, and never could keep it all straight. It was only meditative for short bits on each of the “Hail Mary”s. Otherwise, it was stunted and jolty and not so enjoyable.

Fast forward to tonight. I have been listening to and praying the rosary with Mark Wahlberg on Hallow for months. I finally know which mysteries are which day of the week, and remember it rather easily. I’m not sure I know all the mysteries, but I believe I am close. (Those Luminous being only once a week makes it hard to remember them, especially with their being on events I don’t quite know very well into he first place… still need to look those up, actually…) Tonight, I forgot to play the rosary while I got ready for bed, because I did things a little out of order tonight. So, I went to play it when I remembered this, and it wouldn’t play – it was past midnight, and the app changed the availability of the rosary. It used to be available always, but now is only available on the respective day for that rosary. Quite annoying for someone who’s wanting to pray the rosary only eleven minutes after midnight.

Anyway, so I endeavoured em to say the thing all by myself. And, I kid you not, as I am no goat, I was able to do it. Granted, I say the “Apostles’ Creed” in German – started confusing it in Mass with the Nicene, and don’t want to ruin all that hard work, so switched to learning it in German instead – but everything else is in English.

I did all the mysteries, and even got almost all the fruits for them all – just wasn’t sure on the last one. I know and said the “Hail, Holy Queen” and the closing prayer. And I had a great and surprising time of it all.

Thank you, God, for this really cool and actually meditative experience I’ve had tonight with the rosary – and with Mark Wahlberg still in my head for most of it. This has been a blessing, and so look forward to more time with the rosary throughout my life. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

At home on the range

Well, we went to the range today. It was only my second time going to an indoor gun range, but I believe I was much better prepared this time than last time. I had eye and ear protection that fit well (and didn’t hurt), for one thing. For another, I was mentally prepared for all the reverberations and all the physical shakes I’d get from other firearms being fired throughout the room/range. (You know, I feel like carpeted walls and floors and ceilings would go a long way for indoor ranges not being so loud and miserable… they’re only concrete right now, anyway, so I don’t see the carpeting hurting in any way…)

Now, I got to shoot two different revolvers and a 9mm, each for the first time today. The first revolver was a .22 caliber. The grip was a bit large for me, but I was able to shoot it okay, nonetheless. Starting with that one helped me significantly not to break down into ugly tears*. Then, after getting my man’s input on the kick of the .38 Special as compared to the .22 and the 9mm – double the .22, but much less than the 9mm – I reloaded the single round, aimed, breathed a bit, exhaled, and fired. And it was not anywhere near as frightening as I had been expecting. It felt doable, frankly. I put a full round in, then, and went through them all, and at a reasonable speed. And I nailed the target with all of them.

After that, I tested it at different distances from the target – I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had wonderful accuracy with this gun. Both its sights and its weight and lack of massive kick helped me in my accuracy, I know. After a few rounds, I knew we were running out of time, so I switched back to the .22 revolver to have a little more experience with the ‘little’ guy.

Then, in our last few minutes, I went back to my man’s lane to try the 9mm. 9mm had, so far, made me cry every time I start shooting one. I don’t necessarily cry the whole time – only with certain ones, it seems – but I cry after the first shot, at least, and for an unclear amount of time. So, he tried to get me to fire the .45 first. I watched him fire a round from it, and then firmly declined – that was the one that had hurt with a wall between it and me(!). I had him show me the 9mm, then, and determined I could give it a go. I only wanted a single bullet in the magazine/gun – mental safety right there – which he set up for me. I picked up the gun, aimed, exhaled, fi… and pulled the really light trigger a long way… and got stressed and released it…

I’m sorry – what?? I guess it had a really long pull. Try again.

So, I did. This time, I found the hard spot in the trigger action, paused, inhaled and then exhaled once more, and pulled that last bit.

And it wasn’t as bad as I had been expecting.

I immediately asked for five bullets, please. We were short on time, and I wanted to have the practice, so let’s do it. But let’s not overdo it or anything. Five is a good big number for me right now. Haha

I fired the five comfortably, especially after having discussed the trigger with my man, and felt a sense of relief. It was a bit of a wow: a 9mm that didn’t make me ball. And it was still a black pistol. That’s kind of a big deal.

After that, I packed up shop and got out of dodge (meaning the range room). It had been a good and successful time for me, and I wanted to end it all on a high note(!). (Our time was also basically up, and my man had to leave for a meeting, so I wasn’t just being dramatic or anything. It actually was time to go.)

I am both glad and grateful for our time at the range today. Yes, there were still people going at it with something loud down the way, upping my heart rate every time they decided to shoot – think a whole bunch of loud booms, one right after the other. And yes, my man’s firing of the .45 scared me every time he fired it. But I worked on accepting the noise and the shaking in my body from those Boom!s, and continuing my own steps, anyway. And it went really well. And firing the firearms I intended to test out went really well, too. And my aim was good with them all! It was a really good time at the range today. I genuinely wanted to keep reloading the revolvers, because – get this – it was fun! (Shocked me, too, I know, but it really was fun.) For the first time, I understood why people might want to compete in shooting competitions. Not that I intend to do that – my eyesight likely isn’t good enough, in the first place – but you never know. I can be quite competitive, and competition helps me strive and work to do better at something…

Anyway, I’m really glad we went, just the two of us, and that it wasn’t very busy at all. I don’t expect it always to be that way, but it was just what I needed for today. Baby steps, right? Today had several of them accomplished, that’s for sure.

Thank you, God, and thank you, my man, for such great support and such a great time today.

Thank you, God. Keep us always safe, please. In your name, I pray. Amen.

*Okay, I did break down slightly, though. When we first arrived, my man told me he was going to fire the .22. Uh, okay… thanks for the warning… on a gun that barely will go boom at all… I was grateful he was watching out for me, right? So, then, after he fires it, I fire it, and then I go back to my own lane to see if I can get myself to fire the .38 Special revolver that is there. Just as I’ve loaded a single bullet into the cylinder and aimed, I am accosted by a sudden series of loud and repetitive Boom!s in quick succession that shake my insides and make my ears cringe. I set down the .38 Special, and step away from it, my eyes beginning to water.

As silly as it may sound, that was shocking and scary for me. It was sudden and very loud and very shaking for my actual body. Why was it so rough? Because it was a .45 shooting right next to me(!). Who shot it? My man.

Really, man?? You’re going to warn me for the .22, but not for the really big and loud .45 with a ton of rounds in it????!!! Massive eye roll, I’m telling you. I told him, too, of course, and we both laughed about the idiocy of it all. Baby steps. Haha. I didn’t end up crying full out; I just had tears prick my eyes, then go away. But that was how it happened today. Massive improvement from the constant ugly crying of the last two times I went to a range and shot guns. 😛

Post-a-day 2023