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)
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
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
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
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
My skin has gotten so dried out that it truly had a layer of white on top… the dead skin cells, I suppose, that did not get their needed hydration (or, rather, were stripped of that hydration by soap and dry winter air).
Guess I really ought to be better about putting the oils on after showering now, when my skin is still all wet from the shower. I’ve just been so focused on my hands not getting all bloody, everything else with my skin has kind of taken a back burner… 
Post-a-day 2022
My mom mentioned to me today something that she read just this past week about reaching for our dreams. The question she gave me was “If you woke up tomorrow, and your dream were fulfilled, what would be the first thing you would notice that told you that your dream had been fulfilled?“
I thought about this question. It somewhat baffled me, because I could not easily come up with an answer. Why is that? Well, if my current dream were fulfilled when I woke up tomorrow morning, I still would start my day the exact same way I do right now. I would get up early and go to the gym. I would exercise with delight and rigor. And then I would head to school. Only at this point would I have the noticeable sign, as the bag I had packed for school would be a bit different and where I showered would be different (at school versus at the gym).
While the exercise was interesting simply for the idea of what one thing would give it away, should my big dream come true, what was more fascinating and valuable to me was that my day would begin the exact same way. Put differently, I am already, in part, living my dream.
And that is quite cool.
Sure, I don’t have the specific work and finances and all the follow-up details and activities that come with those, but the person I am being, the habits I am pursuing… those are already exactly part of my dream life being fulfilled.
So, how do we level up now to the next step in fulfilling this dream? That is the question.
Post-a-day 2022
(Just a touch of hesitation now…)
I learned this morning that I need to go ahead and scale things down on Mondays at the gym. I needn’t feel like I am lame or cheating out or anything like that – I just simply cannot do the prescribed work. In the past, we had three levels of capability listed for each aspect of a workout. I was always the lowest originally, and eventually moved up to some of the middle level for parts of workouts. Now, we have only one, the hardest one. I am not on that level on any day. And, now, on Mondays, we are doing movements that are hard for my body period. I absolutely need to scale those down, and a lot. Otherwise, I will not improve and things will not go well for me. We can push when we are being lazy, but it is not a good idea to push when the body is crying with pains and high discomfort in movements. I needn’t cry doing any movements at the gym. But, today, I did, I was just so frustrated with not being able to do the stuff, no matter my effort.
Yeah, it was emotionally rough this morning. And my muscles were, of course, still quite sore going into it all, which didn’t help. At least I’m getting to bed a little earlier tonight…
Post-a-day 2022
Mass is such an emotional experience for me these days. When I am truly present, I end up in massive and intense tears… I wonder if it always will be this way, now that I am not so afraid to be myself as I am when I’m Church, in love and in need…
Thank you, God, for such passion and love as I have an feel from you when I am in Mass these days… may it continue beautifully. Amen.
Post-a-day 2022
(Had to think about it still, but I got it right twice now!)
When you are down
And feeling blue
And like a miserable, out-of-shape lame-o who never will be loved or wanted romantically (even though you’re actually rather amazing and quite fit),
Who helps you up
And reminds you that temporary depressive and obsesssive insanity is only temporary?
That’s what friends are fooorrr!
But seriously, they really do make a massive difference. Let’s keep them around, shall we? ;P
Post-a-day 2022
hannah ananas 