Freezing

I live in the wrong climate. It's something that I've known for years, but am always reminded of it when winter decides to roll around again. You would think, seeing as the area I live in seems to be under winters spell for nearly half the year that I would do something about that. Well, I almost did, but that's another story. My body prefers the tropics. Where it's warmer and there's a little moisture in the air.  

Anyway, it's that time of year again, and I once again find myself always cold. I have often been heard saying that I'll probably freeze to death.  My grandmother would say that I almost did once.  When I was little, my mom, dad and I were driving to Idaho in the dead of winter, and the heater broke in our car. Apparently I was nearly an icicle by the time we got there. Maybe that's what started this, maybe it's just a girl thing, or maybe I got it from my mother who thrived in eighty degree weather. Either way, I'm freezing!

I dislike winter. Sure, snow is pretty if you only get to look at it.  But it's cold and wet. It doesn't stay pretty for very long. After awhile it turns brown or black. It makes driving very difficult, next to impossible. (Which always baffles me. We get snow EVERY year, so do people really forget what driving in snow is like?) I wish it would stay in the mountains, so those Crazies that like to play in the snow can go skiing or snowboarding. I like snow in the month of December. I like it for my birthday, and Christmas, but after that, it can go away. It needs to stay away from me.

I am resigned to the fact that I am stuck with it all. The snow and cold temperatures, and the bad drivers. So, I stock up on cinnamon hot chocolate and various herbal teas. I pull out the blankets made especially for me by loving hands. I buy more books, and rent more movies. I curl up, cover up and tuck in for the long winter. I'll wait for the daffodils to show their happy faces. They tell me when spring is around the corner. I've made it through winter every year previous to this, so I know I'll make it through another, hopefully with feeling in all of my fingers and toes.

Thankful Heart

It's Thanksgiving, and I thought I'd share a few things that I'm thankful for.

I am thankful for a good job, that I like at least 95% of the time. I'm thankful for this beautiful country that I live in and the freedoms I enjoy here. I am thankful for the service men and women past and present who work and have worked so hard to protect the freedoms that I enjoy. I am grateful for friends who are always there for me. You are like family to me. I am thankful for my actual family and the strength they give me, especially my father who is always there when I need him, whether I need to vent about something or I need his help to calm a crisis. For my brother, who is steady and gentle, and proof that there are good young men out there in the world.  For my sisters, both old and new, for the solidarity they show me. For my mother, who helped shape me into who I am today, who gave me wings and let me fly. But most of all, I'm thankful for my knowledge of the gospel, and the comfort it gives. I would be lost without it.

Loving Me

Self-esteem is an unusual thing. It's to value one's self. In this world, self-esteem is hard to come by.  We are constantly berated by the media. It tells us what we think we should be, and makes us think that we somehow don't stack up. It's very difficult, especially for young girls, to escape this. To learn to love themselves as they are. Somehow, and to this day I'm not exactly sure how, I never really had that problem. I decided early that I was going to love myself, no matter what anyone else said. I knew that I was a daughter of God, that I had worth in His eyes, and what others thought didn't matter. I thought I was pretty even though I didn't look like the girls in the magazine. In fact, I usually think I'm the most beautiful girl in the room.  Sure, there are things about myself that I don't like, but I decided to embrace them. They are part of what makes me, me. I refuse to think badly about myself.

This was something my mother and I could hardly talk about. She had been riddled with self-esteem problems her entire life. We were on completely different ends of the spectrum. She couldn't understand the self-confidence that is the side effect of the high self-esteem. But I owe it all to her. She was the one who told me every day that she loved me. She told me I could do anything I set my mind to. I am who I am because of her.

But in the last couple of years, I've had a few experiences that have severely shaken my self-esteem. And I didn't like them. I know that at least one of them was something I needed to go through, the others I 'm not so sure about. But I did learn that to value yourself is precious.

Two years ago I got a bad case of the flu. I'd never had the flu before, so it knocked me down and pinned me for awhile. Then I got every secondary infection that gets associated with the flu. A sinus infection, and inner and outer ear infection in both ears, and bronchitis. The ear infection was so bad that it irritated the nerves to my face and I ended up with what the doctor said was a "classic" case of Bells Palsy.  For those of you who don't really know what that is, basically the left side of my face was paralyzed. I dealt with it for over two months. I had to tape my eye closed at night, because it didn't stay closed. I was lucky that it wasn't super noticeable, except for when I smiled.  That's when people could tell something was wrong. The left side of my mouth wouldn't turn up. It was hard to look in the mirror, and not see the beautiful woman I thought I was.  Eventually it went away, and I got most of the control back, and it was great to see my full smile again.

This last time my self-esteem has taken a hit has been harder to overcome. There's something about the pain of rejection that sinks deeper than anything else. The wound is often so deep and ragged that it takes months if not years to fully heal from. I know this from experience, more than one experience. I've caught myself wondering if the fact that I love myself makes me unlovable by others. But that doesn't make sense, either. Because there are people who love me. I know that the people who count love me, and the rest don't matter. But it's hard to give your heart to someone, only to have it thrown back bloody and bruised. It's difficult to climb out of the hole they've dug inside of you. But that is just what I'm doing.  And even though it sucks, I'm probably better off.

Catalyst part two

And here it is, the newest version.

 

This is just the catalyst for what comes after,

The breath before the scream,

The cringe before the blow,

The beginning in the end.

It's the moment of decision,

The steeling of the nerves.

It's the jumping off point,

where the paths diverge.

This is where I let go,

Douse the dying embers,

And scatter the ashes.

Throw caution to the wind.

It's the broken pieces mending,

Leaving me stronger in the scars,

It's the spark of hope, because

This is just the catalyst.

Catalyst

For two days I've been thinking about what I should write about for today's post, and I hit a brick wall. There were several things I could have explored, but none of them really struck me. And then all day today I've had snippets of these poems that I wrote earlier this year running through my head. So I thought I'd share them. I wrote these back in February. The second poem is actually the first version, but the lines just wouldn't stop rolling around in my head. Then the other version popped out. I found it interesting that how very different the two versions felt. What's even more intriguing is that I can feel another version forming in my head. Another reincarnation with a different take.

Anyway, here are the Catalyst poems.

This is just the catalyst for what comes next,

The breath before the scream,

The pause before the start,

Tension pulled to the breaking point.

Its the balance beginning to sway,

The calm before the storm,

The frenzy before the fall,

Its the dance, out of control.

Turn the key and wind us up,

The spring's about to break.

Let me loose and watch me spin,

There's not much more I can take.

This is just the catalyst.

The moment of truth.

Will you stop me here, or let me go,

Dark oblivion or bright ecstasy await.

This is the other version:

This is just the catalyst for what comes next,

The breath before the scream,

The pause before the start,

And I'm stuck here, in between.

The moments last forever,

Dragging into impossibility,

Driving me insane,

As I long for tranquility.

The next move is a mystery,

is this a game or a dance.

What more can I say,

I have to take this chance.

It's a bet I'm willing to make,

So take this leap with me.

It'll be worth it in the end,

I promise, wait and see.

The future is unwritten,

And I'm an eternal optimist,

Waiting with bated breath

Because...this is just the catalyst.

Just Keep Flying

I've been sick this week. Nothing major, just a cold, but I don't like being sick. I don't think anyone does. Now for a tangent that I promise I will get back to. My mom had multiple sclerosis. It's an autoimmune disease that causes the immune system to be over active and attack the body's nervous system. So, she very rarely got anything like a cold or the flu. Second tangent that is also important, emotions in my father's family run close to the surface. I also got this curse/gift. So what do all of these things have to do with each other? Well, I'm usually pretty good at controlling my emotions, keeping them in check. When I'm sick though, the control gets lost in my body's fight against the illness and the emotions just leak through. I'll start crying for almost no reason. That's how I usually know if I'm really sick, or if I'm just having an off day.

When I get sick, I usually want a bit of sympathy. Who doesn't? Well, my sweet mother wasn't so good at that, mostly because she didn't get sick. She never really understood it. And her mother and grandmother were hypochondriacs, so if I wasn't throwing up, or if I didn't have a fever, I wasn't truly sick, and should get on with life. Oh, she'd "poor baby" me, but if I wasn't completely incapacitated by the illness, I should be ok to keep doing what I should be doing. Now, my mother knew what it was to be sick, because when she did get something it GOT her. I've never seen someone as sick as she had been. But when I'm feeling crappy or cruddy as she would say, I just wanted to call and cry to her. She'd listen to me and then tell me to sleep it off. So then I'd call my dad, who'd let me cry, and tell me what I should do, go get medicine or go see the doctor.

When the tears started this week, and I knew I was dealing with more than just a case of ennui, I had one of those moments where I missed my mother so completely that the tears became more insistent. But as soon as they started, they stopped, because I could feel her presence, and the assurance that I was going to be just fine. Yes, the cold would keep me low for a few days, but nothing will keep me down for long. I'm meant to soar, and even from the Heaven my mother is still showing me how to use my wings.

What Comes First

I was recently asked a question that I currently have some strong feelings about. The question was: What is one that thing that helps a relationship be successful? My response was quick, and in my mind very important. I in turn asked the questioner what their answer was. While I still believe that my answer (communication) is vital, the response I received has opened my eyes a bit more. The reply I received was simple but layered, and in short, living a Christ-centered life.

In the few days since this conversation, I've pondered what that really means. The query was in reference to a romantic relationship, but I believe that it can and should be applied to all associations we have. A marriage isn't just about a man and a woman. A true marriage involves God, so why wouldn't that apply to other relationships? By putting God and Christ first, and letting Them lead us, we cannot go wrong. That's not to say that there won't be hard times, but we will be blessed for our obedience. By putting Christ at the center of our dealings, they will be more honest, sweeter, and more fulfilling.

This principle is something that I do inherently. It's not something I really think about, and I'm not perfect, but I do my best to let myself be led by the Spirit. I try to listen intently to what I'm being told, and to act accordingly. Not long ago I was made to feel bad for doing so. For weeks, I've felt horrible because someone was hurt because I wasn't putting them first.  Well, it took a stranger's words to make me see what I already knew. I was not at fault, and I shouldn't be ashamed. I'm living my life the best I know how, and my Heavenly Father lets me know in a very unique and special way that I'm doing what is right. I'm moving in the right direction, on the correct path, and in the end that's what truly matters.