Hospital Humor

Walking out of the hospital, through the cold evening air of our recently arrived cold front, I reflect on our time in the hospital room, and I can’t help but to smile and let out a bit of a chuckle, shaking my head ever so slightly.

We were all sitting around, chatting casually, occasionally commenting on a “Wheel of Fortune” puzzle, if we happened to look up in time to catch a new one.

My mom was across the room, facing me.

My grandma was to my left, and my opa was to my right (“grandpa” in German), still lying on the hospital bed.

Thus the memory begins:

My grandma is reading the label of a nut and seed butter I had brought with me, one which everyone found to be delicious.

As she reads, she pronounced “Celtic” with a soft c, and s sound.

Grandma: Pumpkin seeds, and Celtic sea salt… Celtic… Celtic sea salt

Opa, at the same time: I really like peanuts.

I look at my mom, and begin to chuckle silently, rolling my eyes.

Mom: What?

Hannah: I feel like I’m in a room with two kids: [I motion my arm toward my grandma] One’s practicing a tongue twister, [the other hand and a head nod toward my opa] the other’s saying just things he likes, “I Love peanuts…”

Opa, still continuing his list of likes: I like cashews,…

My mom and I look at each other again.

Hannah: You see?!

We both crack up quietly and calmly, but genuinely.

I continue for his list: I like Batman

Opa, still listing: I like Brazil nuts…

Mom : I like fire trucks

Mom and I are really laughing now.

Opa pauses ever so slightly, then adds: I even like Hannah

My mom and I glance at one another, and then at Opa to verify that we heard correctly, and then we all start to crack up together.

Opa: save the best for last

Chuckling continues all around, as all four of us have joined in on the joke of how silly everything is in the moment, and the love that we all have for one another – it is fun to play with those who love us.

Post-a-day 2019

Rockin’ it

Tonight, I went to another art exhibit.

And alone, too.

Yes, I ended up meeting friends there, however, I was going in the first place, whether they accepted the belated invitation or not…

And it was wonderful.

I loved the art, I had fun with the friends, I felt myself, and I felt totally loved, and for being just that (myself, I mean).

And I didn’t even think about this as being an improvement on who I am being in life until after the fact, upon further, late-night reflection…

It was wonderful.

It has only taken me years, but I am finally beginning to embrace and to take advantage of the wonderful arts scene found in Houston.

I am finally going to museums somewhat regularly, and am even going on my own, at times, now.

And I love it.

And I love myself for it, too.

I love being myself, the self I have always had inside, the one who wants to be a museum/goer, who can be found on her own at a museum, contemplating this or that piece with curiosity.

It’s really cool, y’all… really cool.

Post-a-day 2019

Being myself, laughing out loud*

Be the person you long to be.

Let go of whatever is holding you back, including yourself.

Accept the fears, acknowledge them, and allow them to be superfluous side comments in your mind.

Feel the pressure that time is upon you, and just start – then the pressure will be off.

Say what you mean, and mean what you say.

Be who you long to be, now.

These are my near-daily considerations…, plus specifics on who that person is who I want to be.

In January, I began slowly searching for what to do next in becoming that person… I knew it had to do with my physical body and my fitness level, but I didn’t yet know how that would turn out.

I got a friend to join me in my search, as I knew I needed the moral support to make it truly happen.

In April, I found the place where I wanted to belong.

The place where the person I want to be would belong.

101 workouts later, I am so much that woman, it is almost scary for me even to consider it – I have been afraid of never becoming that woman for so long, and it seems that I am actually being she, and now… I’m not waiting for 40, like I had once thought.

There is an image I’ve had for years, and it is of me when I am 40 – I live in a chic place, with a chic and gorgeous man, and, somewhere, there is a kid or few… every time I glimpse this woman, my breath is caught in envy – she is my every dream for myself…, all the better that she is myself, though my future self.

In the past several months, I have been taking on being she now, and not waiting for 40 anymore.

When I began these workouts in April, joined this gym, I knew I was taking a step I had never before taken toward being that woman.

Fitness would be only the catalyst for an explosion of transformation in who I am in life.

I knew I would end up fitter than ever before (though I grew up doing sports, and was always fit), and that fitness would help me be who I wanted to be.

I knew that I was acknowledging that, despite the fact that there are terrible deeds done by people constantly in this world, those people and those deeds do not define humanity, nor do they define my life.

I was acknowledging that being fit, being sexy, being the best physical version of myself need not be dangerous, despite what has happened to me in the past.

Besides…, now I could just kick the guy’s a**, if ever he – whoever any new he may happen to be – tries something terrible toward me… anyway…

My second class, I had to attend alone, without my friend who signed up with me.

When it got hard physically, and I felt the beginnings of the challenges to come that would change my body for the better, for the sexy self I wanted for myself, I cried.

I was alone and exposed, and it was emotionally scary.

For the next few weeks, whenever I hit those physical challenges, I cried – I was not accustomed to fitness and sexiness being safe, and so it was scary to know that I was doing work that would turn my body fit and sexy.

It felt like walking around Downtown Gotham at night, singing – as though asking for an attack from any which direction…, but I now knew that it wasn’t… in a way, I knew that Batman was by my side – please excuse the silly reference, but it is oddly applicable – … and he still is…, and it’s like I’m training to be Robin – I’ll always have Batman, but I can handle things on my own, too…. and, it just so happens to be that we have cleaned up Gotham altogether, and there are only the occasional bad guys now…

Anyway, enough Batman…

Working out was scary and actually made me cry from fear on the almost daily – not because of actual dangers, but because of perceived dangers from the physical results I eventually would have.

After a month of what I felt were too minimal results, I took my diet fully into hand – I did a mostly raw cleanse for two weeks, tried out some regular foods again afterward, decided I hated how the regular foods made me feel, and eventually took on my current diet of absurdity that has me feeling amazing, pretty much always.

I currently weigh – and have weighed for a few months now – less than I did at my fittest, back in high school, and I still have some more visible patches to relieve.

I fit into all of my shorts, and have had to alter some of them, because they were too big, only weeks after they suddenly fit again.

Just about every item of clothing I own…, actually no… some of my clothing is just a bit too big, because of how I’ve shaped out and slimmed down, but some of the best pieces from my wardrobe look absolutely amazing on me.

I’m almost totally comfortable in a swimsuit, and I can get over it and wear one when circumstances involve swimming.

I have dropped several percentage points in my body fat, to the point that I am in a fancy percentile of really healthy people.

My butt is about 75% muscle now, and I kind of can’t stop checking it (to make sure I wasn’t exaggerating on that estimate)…, and it makes me smile with delight every time I rediscover how much muscle there is there now.

I find myself looking at and feeling my muscles somewhat as a pastime nowadays, and it makes me chuckle every time I notice that I am doing it.

I’m not (socially) afraid of attractive men, and I don’t feel inadequate around them or attractive women.

I am stronger than I have ever been, and by far.

And not just physically.

I teach high school boys, and I could totally take a good chunk of them – it’s actually funny seeing the weights some of them use at weightlifting practice, when I consider that I used to think them so strong and fit compared to “adults” who are not in the prime of life and have ‘let themselves go’.

I now see that the prime of life is more about when we take on life and take on being our best possible selves, and much less about an age.

(e.g. “Sexy Old Man” at the gym, as my friend always calls him, is fitter than probably all but a handful of these boys, and even that handful is questionable.)

I practically bounce when I get out of bed in the mornings, and I glide with ease down and up my stairs (in the dark), like I have been up for hours and have stretched and gone for a run…, instead of rolling achingly from bed, and creaking down the stairs, everything just a little too uncomfortable to be moving so much so quickly.

I only feel lame in terms of my fitness when I look to compare myself with others at the gym – who, by the way, are some of the fittest people I’ve ever seen in life, so it’s really no biggie there – so I aim to remind myself that that is not a necessary comparison, but merely a point for encouragement.

And it is encouraging, so long as I keep it straight in my head (which has been easier and easier the further I’ve come with everything these past months).

I am a little bit in love with my gym, and its role in helping me – in being such a valuable tool for me – to become this person I so long to be.

I am extremely grateful – to the point that words cannot express, and only a good, long look into my grateful eyes could possibly portray – to the owner of my gym and to the coaches there.

To the owner, I am grateful for his stand to have an exceptional gym.

Period.

He does not settle – be it in something that improves his gym or himself, he will make it happen, thereby encouraging, enabling, and empowering others to do the same for themselves in their fitness and, therefore, their lives.

Also, I love his humor – I laughed pretty hard today – though I wouldn’t say he jokes around much… genuine is more the word for how he shows up in the world.

And, for his genuineness, I am the most grateful.

He cares, and it shows in everything he does.

And it is always felt, and forever appreciated.

His gym is a place of love and inspiration, and encouragement to be the best possible version of oneself – it is no wonder that it is his gym I ended up joining, though without knowing what exactly it was that drew me in at the time.

For the first time in my life, I am bummed when I ‘don’t get to go to the gym’, as it now is phrased…, because I actually love going there.

I still am super focused on myself and my own training during the workouts, but I even enjoy talking to and with people now, because he has a gym filled with great people – these aren’t meatheads or dopes, but awesome people, every one of them…., and they are all there, because people always end up being surrounded by similar people.

If you have an awesome and amazing and fun gym owner, you get a gym filled with awesome and amazing and fun people.

And I am honored to be a part of their clan, and forever grateful.

Five and half months in, 101 workouts completed, and I know that this is one place where I belong.

I just worked out this evening, but I – despite never having been and still not being a morning person – am practically excited about getting up for the 5:15 class in the morning.

Who knew life could alter so much – and for the better – just by joining a gym? 🙂

🤗🙏🐪

🦖 Rawr, World – here I am. 🦖

“Let’s Freakin’ Go”

*because 101… lol 😂

Post-a-day 2019

What’s the point?

Aimlessly I pace, pause, glance…, repeat… until I realize that it is not aimlessly after all… merely fruitlessly…

“What is my aim?” I ask, originally expecting an answer about what topic to use for writing…

“To provide beautiful inspiration through new perspectives,” is the reply, clearly referencing more than just tonight’s aim of finding a topic about which to write…

So, we’ll roll with this idea…

“Did I know this already?”

“Yes, I believe so… perhaps you just set it aside with all the off-and-on panic you temporarily embraced, and forgot its depth for a while…, but you knew it already, yes.”

……

I seem to have done this much lately, letting fear and concerns get in the way of what I want to do in the world with my life, what I am almost committed to doing… perhaps it is because I’m not committed to doing it that I allow myself to push it aside(?)… yes, that would not surprise me…

Fear and concern show up, and, instead of allowing them to be expressed and then move onward, I have embraced them a bit here and there… fortunately, I always seem to let them go, however, I think I could use some work on letting them go much sooner than I have been doing.

Every time I release the fear involved in something, say photography, I end up doing something spectacular or having something spectacular happen to or for me…, so I think it is high time I spent a bit more attention on creating a commitment to providing beautiful inspiration through new perspectives in what I do, and to allowing fear and concern to express themselves and then be released immediately…

I can do this, I know, so let’s just do it already. 🙂

Smiles away! 🙂

Post-a-day 2019

At the close of a rough day…

What are you doing right now?

Can I play ukulele to you?

I’m feeling a bit lonesome and useless, and that would be a quality purpose

I considered guitar, but the strings really need to be replaced :/

Those were the messages I sent.

And then she called me…, and I played ukulele and sang to her, and we talked a bit afterward about some things, and it was great.

My mission was accomplished, and I felt so much more at ease than beforehand… service given, art made, purpose felt, love shared.

Friends are wonderful, even when they are all the way across the country.

🙂

P.S. I spoke briefly with a friend in D.C. earlier, and then this one in Oregon tonight… I really do span the country with my closest friends… it’s almost as though one must live farther away in order to deepen our friendship more. 😛

Post-a-day 2019

Hello-Goodbye

The Beatles sure do have a song for every occasion.

Tonight, we say hello to the new year as we say goodbye to the one that’s been here for a while (for a year, to be exact).

And it really has been a year, this one… life has looked little like how I might have expected.

And yet, the good and the bad, the ups and the downs and the plateaus, have all balanced out rather nicely for this year… it kind of even has me terrified for this next year, because of how wonderful these unexpecteds keep turning out.

Kind of like the beautiful Marianne Williamson quote, where she says that ‘it is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us,’ and that ‘our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate,’ but ‘that we are powerful beyond measure.’

This year has been an even more clear example of that entire quote for me in my life, as each year has been progressively showing me, more and more… and so this next year definitely has me on the edge of my seat in slight but giddy and delighted terror. 🙂

P.S. For those who want to read the full and fabulous quote (which I didn’t even have to reference when writing this, though I haven’t seen it in probably years – I just know it so well) from Marianne Williamson: a link.

Post-a-day 2018*

*The Last of its group

Biblical coincidence?

I’ve been reading from the Bible every night, in my effort to read the whole thing (Being raised Catholic, my family fit in well with the stereotype that Catholics really don’t read the Bible, but merely rely on hearing almost all of it through Mass attendance over the three-year plan the Catholic Church follows).

I’ve been in the part where Saul becomes King of the Israelites, and just last night hit the part where the Israelites seem like they’re about to have this big showdown with the Philistines… little did I recall that this upcoming showdown is actually where the story of David and Goliath takes place.

But I still haven’t read that part yet, so how have I come by this tiny enlightenment?

Checking my e-mail this morning, I found a digital audiobook from the library to be just this morning checked out to me (it had been on hold for quite some time, really [possibly months]).

And what book was this?

None other than David and Goliath by Malcolm Gladwell (if you don’t know his books, read them ASAP, or listen to the audiobooks, which are read by the author himself, ASAP)…., in the beginning of which, Malcolm Gladwell discusses the lead-in for the David and Goliath story, which, as I am listening, I suddenly recall, I have just been reading!

And so, with this fabulous Malcolm Gladwell approach to the story, I set myself with delight to the task of continuing on in my reading of the Bible.

I mean, what kind of perfect coincidence is that, anyway???