my adventure

This is my life.
This is my adventure.
Thank goodness.

Photos by Rich Legg

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okay then.

Oh, unending stream of criticism in my head.

Will you ever run out of words?

Why is it so hard to believe that I am who You say I am?
Put together just the way you wanted.
Poured out into the body you designed.
Crafted into this person...that confounds me daily.

I enjoy chocolate cookies
and pizza
and cheese/crackers/salami
and all things "unhealthy".
I'm a walking klutz, unless I'm on ice.
Then I feel like a ballerina.
I spill, I trip, I snort, I sob.

I am a landmine of emotions.

Get out, get out, get out.

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here it is...there it was

It's like inadequacy.

Wondering, "Really? Why not me? We seem the same."
But actually, they kept all the good parts that you let go to waste.

I don't want them to go to waste anymore.

God, can you take me back to a beach in Mexico where you were more powerful than the wind and the waves, and all I could feel were your hands on my shoulders?

I'm so overwhelmed with this.
I'm so overwhelmed when I remember everything else, and everything now.

Your life comes with commitments.
You go from thinking, "I wonder what my life will be,"
to
"This is what my life is. I just defined it."

Did I do the right things?
Did I make the right decisions?
Is this how I was supposed to turn out?

I've forgotten the solid peace I had when my life was wide open and there were no doors to hide behind.

Dear Jesus,
Make me better.
Amen.

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too much.

*update--
My husband is amazingly wonderful and is taking me on a staycation to Evanston. We are staying in a cute little bed and breakfast just off the purple line. We leave on Thursday afternoon and come home on Saturday afternoon.
Praise the good Lord Almighty.

Secondly, I had an interesting observation while biking home this evening. My thighs were literally cramping up about halfway home, but I just tried to ignore it and keep going.
However, had I been on a stationary bike at the gym, or a treadmill, I would have just gotten off.
But I wanted to come home, and biking was my only option, so I stayed on.
Now my thighs are looking nicely mannish with muscle and I am in desperate need of some good stretching.

Bug Count:
Mouth-4
Nose-1
Eye-1
Head/Arms/Hair-too numerous to count

Seriously. Does anyone have any suggestions about this? I had to stop and get a drink to wash them all down. Nasty.
_____________________________________________________________

There's just been too much lately.
Really, I probably could have written 20 posts in the past week, but I just couldn't.

I couldn't do a lot of things.

I have got to snap out of this.

On the biking front: It's an interesting thing. I enjoy the exercise and the fresh air. I hate the cars and their mean drivers. So on one hand I am getting out, getting air, calming down. On the other, I am winding back up when I have to yell at people that drive an inch away from me and force me to the side of the road.
I saw fireflies the other day. It was a little bit of magic for a moment.
Until one went down my throat.
Then it was not so magical.

On the everything else front: I could spend my days sitting on the beach and eating frozen yogurt.
Is it wrong that I feel entitled to some sort of break?
I've written repeatedly about how I've felt like I went non-stop for this past year and I know that there's a crash coming somewhere.
Or maybe it's just little crashes.
I think I've been having some of those lately.

I don't know. Our society pushes us to keep going, keep working, make money, don't quit.
Yet, God clearly talks about us needing rest.
Where's the balance?
How much rest is enough, and when do you cross the line into laziness?

It's been hard to move lately, and I don't like it.

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contradiction

I want to leave this place.
paris, barcelona, rome, london.
I'll take any of them.
I want anywhere but here.
And I want to take everything with me.

I want home and I don't know where it is.

I want to settle in, and I don't want to stay anywhere for too long.

I am a walking contradiction and I just need a place to lie down.

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