For some reason i have the welcome back kotter theme song stuck in my head.
i seem to have these random thoughts that go through my head, like before i left i thought- 'next time i'm here, i will have come from Africa'. . . Last night i had that same thought- except reverse. It seemed so weird to experience something that i have looked forward to for so long, and what i've talked about for so long to be over- but it's not truly over because i want to go back. However, it will take awhile for me to recover from the 40 hours of travel that we experienced both ways.
At times i found African culture overwhelming with their willingness to give every part of them. i also found it overwhelming to come home, and to be so segregated here. It's not my intention to rant, and i'm not- but i realize how lonely it can be and how it feels almost wrong to not acknowledge someone you see walking down the street.
i am so tired too. i went to bed around midnight, and woke up at 5:30 AM, and couldn't go back to sleep. i need to stay up at least until 9. i'm glad i took off the week from work, there is no way that i am good company right now. i am a lot more anxious than i usually am.
Lucky for me i made sure that i'm not doing anything so i can readjust.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
minor miracles
The fact that i can be calm and rational and cool always surprises me. Usually because in my head it's the complete opposite.
Right now it's kind of hard for me to adjust to the idea of being gone for three weeks is hard. Only because i know too well that the world here will still be proceeding at its current pace.
i've been doing some stalking of this artist that i saw a couple months ago at a first Thursday exhibit. There he was reflective the painting of my dreams. A pensive looking young man looking off into space. For some reason i felt an infinity with a painting, A PAINTING- which may sound weird, but there are times that something will move your soul and captivate your being. i went searching, knowing that there was someone who by now owned the painting i love. The woman at the gallery confirmed my dread- someone else had purchased my reflective soul mate. However, she knew the artist who is local, and called him to ask if he would be willing to paint another painting- not identical because where is the true art in that- but one with the similar qualities. i always hated being the one who asked for special treatment, even if it's not a big deal- but here i truly don't want to offend a talented artist who paints how he feels. i have to say those moments of inspiration are rarely duplicated, and sometimes it's for the best. He did agree, and i feel humbled by the thought of someone painting something of that nature just for me.
On my way home today after the glory of the gallery i was waiting for my bus across from Powell's . i like to people watch, and often feel bad for those who stand selling magazines, or newsprint- especially since they aren't always treated with the respect that every human desires. It was funny, because i could have sworn that it looked like my cute bus driver was standing there handing out something that inspired him. i knew i would never get it out of my head if i just went home- and honestly i can never turn Powell's down. It's like the mother ship calling me home. i say this gingerly, if i were to sell my soul it would be for books or music. (i digress i know)
In my head i thought, "what do i have to loose by just walking by?" So again i crossed the street, trying to figure out how to get a good look w/o being looked at. Well, that didn't really work, why? Because when he sees(yes, because it was him) me he says "i recognize you, i'm a bus driver i think you're on my route." (my first thought was 'and i gave you my number last year that could be noted in history as the most unsmooth way to give someone your number- hey that's how i roll) Apparently his passion- socialism, just in case you were curious. we made small talk about the wonders of Powell's and that he spends hours in the leftist section, and that i just love books and i will read just about anything that will keep my attention (i am now realizing- this may not have been good on my part to say this because it makes me sound stupid or shallow). So i realized that i didn't know how to keep the conversation going so i made polite said i needed to go inside. Plus at this point i realize that i don't have a clue about the socialist's appeal, and i want to save pace. i admit, i am interested in the idea of socialism, and curious about marxism, so for me it's no judgement that he's selling his marxist literature. i think that's the beauty of this country, the ability to peacefully support your cause.
At this point, i can't concentrate, i am now getting to spot where i don't feel overwhelmed in Powell's. It's my candy store, and i want to overdose so bad. i did find a book by a feminist author my friend talks about.
AND i did see him on my way out, asked if he had sold another newsprint, wished him luck, and told him to take care.
i don't know how to say how liberated i felt. It felt amazing to converse and not vomit, it felt amazing to be able to walk away and not feel that i ever threw myself at him. i feel rational, i'm always amazed when i feel that i've acted like an adult- because even at 30 i still feel like a little kid, and that my mom will tell me it's time to come home and get ready for bed.
Right now it's kind of hard for me to adjust to the idea of being gone for three weeks is hard. Only because i know too well that the world here will still be proceeding at its current pace.
i've been doing some stalking of this artist that i saw a couple months ago at a first Thursday exhibit. There he was reflective the painting of my dreams. A pensive looking young man looking off into space. For some reason i felt an infinity with a painting, A PAINTING- which may sound weird, but there are times that something will move your soul and captivate your being. i went searching, knowing that there was someone who by now owned the painting i love. The woman at the gallery confirmed my dread- someone else had purchased my reflective soul mate. However, she knew the artist who is local, and called him to ask if he would be willing to paint another painting- not identical because where is the true art in that- but one with the similar qualities. i always hated being the one who asked for special treatment, even if it's not a big deal- but here i truly don't want to offend a talented artist who paints how he feels. i have to say those moments of inspiration are rarely duplicated, and sometimes it's for the best. He did agree, and i feel humbled by the thought of someone painting something of that nature just for me.
On my way home today after the glory of the gallery i was waiting for my bus across from Powell's . i like to people watch, and often feel bad for those who stand selling magazines, or newsprint- especially since they aren't always treated with the respect that every human desires. It was funny, because i could have sworn that it looked like my cute bus driver was standing there handing out something that inspired him. i knew i would never get it out of my head if i just went home- and honestly i can never turn Powell's down. It's like the mother ship calling me home. i say this gingerly, if i were to sell my soul it would be for books or music. (i digress i know)
In my head i thought, "what do i have to loose by just walking by?" So again i crossed the street, trying to figure out how to get a good look w/o being looked at. Well, that didn't really work, why? Because when he sees(yes, because it was him) me he says "i recognize you, i'm a bus driver i think you're on my route." (my first thought was 'and i gave you my number last year that could be noted in history as the most unsmooth way to give someone your number- hey that's how i roll) Apparently his passion- socialism, just in case you were curious. we made small talk about the wonders of Powell's and that he spends hours in the leftist section, and that i just love books and i will read just about anything that will keep my attention (i am now realizing- this may not have been good on my part to say this because it makes me sound stupid or shallow). So i realized that i didn't know how to keep the conversation going so i made polite said i needed to go inside. Plus at this point i realize that i don't have a clue about the socialist's appeal, and i want to save pace. i admit, i am interested in the idea of socialism, and curious about marxism, so for me it's no judgement that he's selling his marxist literature. i think that's the beauty of this country, the ability to peacefully support your cause.
At this point, i can't concentrate, i am now getting to spot where i don't feel overwhelmed in Powell's. It's my candy store, and i want to overdose so bad. i did find a book by a feminist author my friend talks about.
AND i did see him on my way out, asked if he had sold another newsprint, wished him luck, and told him to take care.
i don't know how to say how liberated i felt. It felt amazing to converse and not vomit, it felt amazing to be able to walk away and not feel that i ever threw myself at him. i feel rational, i'm always amazed when i feel that i've acted like an adult- because even at 30 i still feel like a little kid, and that my mom will tell me it's time to come home and get ready for bed.
Monday, May 19, 2008
getting ready
It always amazes me how time flies. . . Although with all that is going on it can believe it.
It is official, i'm allergic to spring, and basically everything that i love about Oregon. . . except the rain, i love the rain, and so far i'm not allergic to the rain. . . i am however allergic to nuts. . . which will drive me crazy, i did get sunflower butter. It's not too bad, it's no peanut butter though. . . i am hoping that altering my diet will affect how i am feeling. i really don't seem to have much energy, so maybe knowing this will help me feel better- and help the break outs.
The countdown has begun, in two weeks i'll be leaving for Tanzania. It still feels surreal to me. . . Although all the random things i'm buying, and the shots i guess makes it feel real. . . i go between being excited, and a little panicky about the unknown.
i may do a blog or two on the lahash blog: www.hopeisalive.com.
It is official, i'm allergic to spring, and basically everything that i love about Oregon. . . except the rain, i love the rain, and so far i'm not allergic to the rain. . . i am however allergic to nuts. . . which will drive me crazy, i did get sunflower butter. It's not too bad, it's no peanut butter though. . . i am hoping that altering my diet will affect how i am feeling. i really don't seem to have much energy, so maybe knowing this will help me feel better- and help the break outs.
The countdown has begun, in two weeks i'll be leaving for Tanzania. It still feels surreal to me. . . Although all the random things i'm buying, and the shots i guess makes it feel real. . . i go between being excited, and a little panicky about the unknown.
i may do a blog or two on the lahash blog: www.hopeisalive.com.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
i might like spring if...
my allergies didn't go haywire every year.
The sniffles, the runny nose, the mass quantities of tissue shoved in any pocket, watery red puffy eyes. . . i hate to whine, but a girl cannot function when she cannot see. i was joking with a co-worker today that the red watery puffy eyes really accentuates the raw runny nose. It's all the rage in Milan---
The worst part is i take stuff- this year has been bad!
It looks as if it will be a season of glasses, eye drops and tissue. . . And will be breathing through my mouth since breathing through my nostrils seem almost impossible. . .
The sniffles, the runny nose, the mass quantities of tissue shoved in any pocket, watery red puffy eyes. . . i hate to whine, but a girl cannot function when she cannot see. i was joking with a co-worker today that the red watery puffy eyes really accentuates the raw runny nose. It's all the rage in Milan---
The worst part is i take stuff- this year has been bad!
It looks as if it will be a season of glasses, eye drops and tissue. . . And will be breathing through my mouth since breathing through my nostrils seem almost impossible. . .
Saturday, April 05, 2008
i really love the lyrics of Patty Griffin, i have used her words before. She knows the words that my heart never seems articulate enough to say. This is my favorite Patty song because of the acknowledgment of despair, but even through the pain and acknowledgment of the lack of hope, hope still seems to be alive. If you don't know her, i recommend her. i love her, she has changed my life- i can never listen to music the same way- she sings the words of my soul.
The Sunday after, there was laughter in the air
Everybody had a kite they were flying everywhere
And all the trouble went away and it wasn't just a dream
All the trouble went away, and it wasn't just a dream
In the middle of the night
We try and try with all our might
To light a little light down here
In the middle of the night
We dream of a million kites
Flying high above the sadness and the fear
Little sister, just remember as you wander through the blue
The little kite that you sent flying on a Sunday afternoon
Made of something light as nothing
Made of joy that matters too
How the little dreams we dream are all we can really do
In the middle of the night
The world turns with all its might
A little diamond, colored blue
In the middle of the night
We keep sending little kites
Until a little light gets through
The Sunday after, there was laughter in the air
Everybody had a kite they were flying everywhere
And all the trouble went away and it wasn't just a dream
All the trouble went away, and it wasn't just a dream
In the middle of the night
We try and try with all our might
To light a little light down here
In the middle of the night
We dream of a million kites
Flying high above the sadness and the fear
Little sister, just remember as you wander through the blue
The little kite that you sent flying on a Sunday afternoon
Made of something light as nothing
Made of joy that matters too
How the little dreams we dream are all we can really do
In the middle of the night
The world turns with all its might
A little diamond, colored blue
In the middle of the night
We keep sending little kites
Until a little light gets through
Thursday, April 03, 2008
not alone...
It never ceases to amaze me when i am feeling my worst that when i share my burden, my ache, my sorrow that the pain i feel eases. The funny thing is, that scary thing i feel so bad about most of the time isn't really as bad it feels inside of me.
Maybe those are the lies we grow up with, you are alone, nobody will understand you, you will be loved conditionally, you are unworthy. . .
It must be there where we learn to wear masks. It's there where we learn not to be true to who we are. But often i find that when i am honest, even at the fear of isolating others, i find comfort. But maybe that has to be for someone true to understand the baring of ones' own soul, even if it costs respect. i know some who may be reading this are some who have said to me "i was afraid to say anything because i didn't want you to think less of me." As someone who lives this fear i hurt. i hurt that there could be judgement there- and as much as i wish that i could say i would never judge. . . to say never could prove to be sooner than i thought. But that shouldn't detour us from being honest, sharing our lives, and striving to live into this thing called community.
For me it's my refuge where i realize i am not alone, because more than likely i haven't been the only one struggling, and that when we share our burdens we are living.
Maybe those are the lies we grow up with, you are alone, nobody will understand you, you will be loved conditionally, you are unworthy. . .
It must be there where we learn to wear masks. It's there where we learn not to be true to who we are. But often i find that when i am honest, even at the fear of isolating others, i find comfort. But maybe that has to be for someone true to understand the baring of ones' own soul, even if it costs respect. i know some who may be reading this are some who have said to me "i was afraid to say anything because i didn't want you to think less of me." As someone who lives this fear i hurt. i hurt that there could be judgement there- and as much as i wish that i could say i would never judge. . . to say never could prove to be sooner than i thought. But that shouldn't detour us from being honest, sharing our lives, and striving to live into this thing called community.
For me it's my refuge where i realize i am not alone, because more than likely i haven't been the only one struggling, and that when we share our burdens we are living.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
becoming Pam
Do you ever at work look for the camera because something one person does makes you think you are about to be punked? Honestly it's like everyday at work for me. There are times that i think, "this really can't be happening?!"
i do feel like i should be apart of The Office- which means with the odd things that happen between me and my new boss, and the comments made-make me Pam Beesely. Well, almost every situation with most of my co-workers resembles the show.
i thought about something like a "10 reasons your boss is Michael Scott". . . But i'm pretty sure they'd be found, and i didn't want to have to explain anything. . .
Now, where is my Jim Halpert?
i do feel like i should be apart of The Office- which means with the odd things that happen between me and my new boss, and the comments made-make me Pam Beesely. Well, almost every situation with most of my co-workers resembles the show.
i thought about something like a "10 reasons your boss is Michael Scott". . . But i'm pretty sure they'd be found, and i didn't want to have to explain anything. . .
Now, where is my Jim Halpert?
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
How are you doing?
i had a conversation with friends a couple weeks ago about that four words. It's funny that an intentional question at times when asked tends to request an insincere reply.
When we respond with the genuine- "well, i feel miserable, i am questioning everything i do/am, i had a fight with a loved one, i am lonely. i feel no hope" answer, it throws the other person off. i guess it also depends on who's asking the question too. i admit i often lie and say i'm fine with someone i don't want to share any personal information with.
Last week i had made a comment about the conversation with a co-worker, and she had said "how are you?" is the Portland hello. Which could be true. There are people that i will ask them every time i see them, and when i realized that for the 17th time i had seen them-17 times i had said "how are you/how's it going?" i then wondered if they thought i was crazy/ or that i was obsessed with how they were- which when you don't know them too well is creepy.
Since the conversation i have felt challenged to really mean the question i ask. . .
-------------------------------------------------
i finished the baby blanket yesterday. Seriously- i can never do that again. i felt so disjointed during, like i had forgotten how to properly talk to other humans. So, i'm sorry for anyone that felt awkward with my lack of conversation, and the blank stares. i have returned to the living.
When we respond with the genuine- "well, i feel miserable, i am questioning everything i do/am, i had a fight with a loved one, i am lonely. i feel no hope" answer, it throws the other person off. i guess it also depends on who's asking the question too. i admit i often lie and say i'm fine with someone i don't want to share any personal information with.
Last week i had made a comment about the conversation with a co-worker, and she had said "how are you?" is the Portland hello. Which could be true. There are people that i will ask them every time i see them, and when i realized that for the 17th time i had seen them-17 times i had said "how are you/how's it going?" i then wondered if they thought i was crazy/ or that i was obsessed with how they were- which when you don't know them too well is creepy.
Since the conversation i have felt challenged to really mean the question i ask. . .
-------------------------------------------------
i finished the baby blanket yesterday. Seriously- i can never do that again. i felt so disjointed during, like i had forgotten how to properly talk to other humans. So, i'm sorry for anyone that felt awkward with my lack of conversation, and the blank stares. i have returned to the living.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Addictions
This lent season i have become very aware of my addictions, where it be food or retail therapy.
i honestly feel very embarrassed to admit this, i feel deep shame that i use these two things as coping mechanisms in my life. Right now i am overcome by this brokenness i feel. There is this disconnect with coping, and instead of looking for ways to deal with the way i feel, i will use things like food or something new to give me artificial, temporary feeling of all is right with the world.
This concept is so new to me that i really don't know how else to process it, or quite honestly how much i want out in cyberland.
i honestly feel very embarrassed to admit this, i feel deep shame that i use these two things as coping mechanisms in my life. Right now i am overcome by this brokenness i feel. There is this disconnect with coping, and instead of looking for ways to deal with the way i feel, i will use things like food or something new to give me artificial, temporary feeling of all is right with the world.
This concept is so new to me that i really don't know how else to process it, or quite honestly how much i want out in cyberland.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Healing
Why is the thought of healing a scary thing? You would think a person would like to get better. Sometimes does it feels better to stay the same?
What do you do once you've healed, how do you spend time that was once in the bile of life?
It feels too easy to live the embittered life. . . i know too many bitter people, i work with too many bitter people. At times daily i feel that i must give up that part of me that dwells in the bitter space. i really don't think i dealt with it, and it transpired into my dreams.
i am hopeful that all the baggage of self loathing, and my fear of hoping will be sorted through the process of healing.
What do you do once you've healed, how do you spend time that was once in the bile of life?
It feels too easy to live the embittered life. . . i know too many bitter people, i work with too many bitter people. At times daily i feel that i must give up that part of me that dwells in the bitter space. i really don't think i dealt with it, and it transpired into my dreams.
i am hopeful that all the baggage of self loathing, and my fear of hoping will be sorted through the process of healing.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
paging Dr. Freud
i had a dream two nights ago where i was in my room and this person kept placing things in my room and i kept getting frustrated by this, and i couldn't find any peace stuff all over the place, and i couldn't move-- mere coincidence. . . but last night i dreamt that i was at work frantically trying to complete this project while my co-workers did nothing to help, and didn't seem to be aware of my frustration, and my feeling of being overwhelmed. . . It's hard to need help, and when that hand is stretched out for help there doesn't seem to be anyone reaching back. . . Which leads to me dreaming about work, which is annoying because if i am dreaming about work, since it is work related shouldn't i be getting paid? No? i thought it was worth asking. . . I
This is my hundredth post, i wish i would have baked a cake to celebrate. . .
This is my hundredth post, i wish i would have baked a cake to celebrate. . .
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
I'm just curious...
What's the bravest thing you've ever done?
Me- i had an infatuation with my bus driver, and in a moment of bravery, or for lack of better judgment i gave him my number( i did double check to make sure there was no ring). He never called.
It turned out to be one of those things that i I knew it wouldn't have killed me- but all i could imagine was bursting into flames from the sheer panic my body was in. i can't say i'd do it again though...
Me- i had an infatuation with my bus driver, and in a moment of bravery, or for lack of better judgment i gave him my number( i did double check to make sure there was no ring). He never called.
It turned out to be one of those things that i I knew it wouldn't have killed me- but all i could imagine was bursting into flames from the sheer panic my body was in. i can't say i'd do it again though...
Sunday, January 20, 2008
INFJ
So i took my myers-briggs test which my friend Lindsay predicted my out come. i can't remember if she predicted correctly- but i'm pretty sure she was right in predicting that i was INFJ. Jimmy Carter's also an INFJ- that's pretty exciting.
i must admit that i am so exhausted. i have stayed up way too late these last few days between concerts and well i was watching tv last night- so that's not a good excuse. i have to say i made the good decisions to go to both shows this week. i love good music, and learning to appreciate a musician for their art feels like a good thing for me. So my goal this week is to go to bed early most nights this week, even 9:30.
i keep thinking of my new years' resolutions, and how badly i am doing- and it's not even February. i wanted to be healthy, and judging by the junkapalooza (all the massive amounts of food not good for me) that i call my eating habits for the week, i need to be better. Our Executive Chef is such an amazing chef, truly makes the best curry i've ever eaten. i did turn down a delicious slice of almond pound cake with raspberry sauce & a lemon glaze (leftovers from the Directors lunch)- then i was bitter that i had eaten so poorly that day.
Who knows, now that i have a roommate i may join the gym- or i will entertain the idea ;~).
i must admit that i am so exhausted. i have stayed up way too late these last few days between concerts and well i was watching tv last night- so that's not a good excuse. i have to say i made the good decisions to go to both shows this week. i love good music, and learning to appreciate a musician for their art feels like a good thing for me. So my goal this week is to go to bed early most nights this week, even 9:30.
i keep thinking of my new years' resolutions, and how badly i am doing- and it's not even February. i wanted to be healthy, and judging by the junkapalooza (all the massive amounts of food not good for me) that i call my eating habits for the week, i need to be better. Our Executive Chef is such an amazing chef, truly makes the best curry i've ever eaten. i did turn down a delicious slice of almond pound cake with raspberry sauce & a lemon glaze (leftovers from the Directors lunch)- then i was bitter that i had eaten so poorly that day.
Who knows, now that i have a roommate i may join the gym- or i will entertain the idea ;~).
Sunday, January 13, 2008
My life in a Hugh Grant Movie...
Or i guess it feels that way, but instead of four weddings and a funeral yesterday was a memorial service & a wedding...(plus two birthdays!) That is two totally different ends of the emotional spectrum. It was very touching while at the service to see how much of an impact this woman's life made on those around her. In that same idea, my co-worker thought enough of me to invite me to her wedding. To me that really felt like such an honor.
i really have felt over the holidays this sense of reflection, even more so than i have previously.
It's funny what a birthday does to a person...
i really have felt over the holidays this sense of reflection, even more so than i have previously.
It's funny what a birthday does to a person...
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Welcome back
I feel like the older I get the faster life seems to be flying by me.
Last week was my 30th birthday, which felt so much larger than me. It's odd to me to think that one day dictates that you are one year older, and that can put you in a completely different decade.
I have to admit I am glad that 2007 is over. It didn't feel like a good year overall, and so far I have a good feeling about 2008 it's going to be a great year!
This is going to be a good year... I know it will be...
Last week was my 30th birthday, which felt so much larger than me. It's odd to me to think that one day dictates that you are one year older, and that can put you in a completely different decade.
I have to admit I am glad that 2007 is over. It didn't feel like a good year overall, and so far I have a good feeling about 2008 it's going to be a great year!
This is going to be a good year... I know it will be...
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
In the blink of an eye
i find that the more i get used to digital, and high speed age the more impatient i get.
i do think that this technology is amazing and wonderful, but also i have noticed that i am not as patient as i once was. If i am listening to my ipod i have discovered that i rarely will listen to an album start to finish, it's playlists, shuffles, and skip skip skip(the songs).
Just as i wonder if commercials can lead to disruptive sequences in ones' ability to focus for long terms, thus altering the concentration of the viewer.
All affecting my ability to concentrate, and showing my lack of discipline.
i do think that this technology is amazing and wonderful, but also i have noticed that i am not as patient as i once was. If i am listening to my ipod i have discovered that i rarely will listen to an album start to finish, it's playlists, shuffles, and skip skip skip(the songs).
Just as i wonder if commercials can lead to disruptive sequences in ones' ability to focus for long terms, thus altering the concentration of the viewer.
All affecting my ability to concentrate, and showing my lack of discipline.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Supersize me...
i had this thought as i was in Ashland this weekend about portion control, especially since most meals this weekend was in a restaurant. i find it so hard to find remember what normal portions look when i have a HUGE plate of food in front of me. One thing i like about sharing a meal with my mom is that we really share a meal together. i like this mostly because then i don't feel the need to eat most of the food when i know i won't be able to take it home. i also like it because then i don't overeat.
It's so hard when you work hard for your paycheck, and you want the best value and for those with limited funds super-sizing at fast food locations seems like the best value. Honestly when considering all the extra empty calories in that 44 oz. jug of Dr. Pepper, 8 oz is 100 calories the mind bends at the thought of all that yummy delicious high fructose corn syrup. But man do i love my Dr. Pepper, although not 44 oz. Honestly though i digress.
i read a book called mindless eating, and what i love so much about the book is that the author eats the bad food, and admits that he mindlessly eats, and eats french fries. What i like most is the intentionalness of his story i know that my life becomes so routine that i forget to be intentional, and i miss the beauty of paying attention.
On another note, i changed my community group this week... It was sad to leave, because i like everyone so much. Although, i do love the new group i'm in, not so much the alarm clock going off @ 5 this morning. But i'm so excited to try something new to move in a new direction, and i'm not too freaked out by the thought of change, which makes me believe that this is what i'm supposed to do.
It's so hard when you work hard for your paycheck, and you want the best value and for those with limited funds super-sizing at fast food locations seems like the best value. Honestly when considering all the extra empty calories in that 44 oz. jug of Dr. Pepper, 8 oz is 100 calories the mind bends at the thought of all that yummy delicious high fructose corn syrup. But man do i love my Dr. Pepper, although not 44 oz. Honestly though i digress.
i read a book called mindless eating, and what i love so much about the book is that the author eats the bad food, and admits that he mindlessly eats, and eats french fries. What i like most is the intentionalness of his story i know that my life becomes so routine that i forget to be intentional, and i miss the beauty of paying attention.
On another note, i changed my community group this week... It was sad to leave, because i like everyone so much. Although, i do love the new group i'm in, not so much the alarm clock going off @ 5 this morning. But i'm so excited to try something new to move in a new direction, and i'm not too freaked out by the thought of change, which makes me believe that this is what i'm supposed to do.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Hope is alive
i often forget the power that is behind this statement. And for me maybe that can be a problem of mine, is that something so powerful can become mundane. But in the mundane comes the joy from realizing powerful statements again.
i spent the weekend in Ashland for their AIDS benefit called Daedalus Project. As i stood last night with others in memory of loved ones gone again it was brought to mind the power of the mundane. It's been 15 years since my uncle lost his battle with AIDS, and even last night i still felt that twinge of pain of the great loss. It also hit me as all of us who had lost someone stood. How bad this really is, how powerful this pandemic truly is.
But hope is alive... We may not see it, it may take longer than we feel it should. Hope lives within us, it keeps us going... It gives us reason to move, to believe that there will one day be a cure for AIDS, for cancer, for poverty, for oppression...
i spent the weekend in Ashland for their AIDS benefit called Daedalus Project. As i stood last night with others in memory of loved ones gone again it was brought to mind the power of the mundane. It's been 15 years since my uncle lost his battle with AIDS, and even last night i still felt that twinge of pain of the great loss. It also hit me as all of us who had lost someone stood. How bad this really is, how powerful this pandemic truly is.
But hope is alive... We may not see it, it may take longer than we feel it should. Hope lives within us, it keeps us going... It gives us reason to move, to believe that there will one day be a cure for AIDS, for cancer, for poverty, for oppression...
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