stream of consciousness from the middle of a river

Gosh, this is a weird season of life. I'm now two miscarriages into the idea of being a mom, with no plans or answers on the horizon. My pups are a major obsession, and I'm fully aware that it's partly to do with the pregnancy losses. That bothers me sometimes, but mostly I just let myself delight in their soft fur and fun little personalities (plus, their total love of me? Man, that's just good for the soul). I'm running/training again. Which is good, because I'm legitimately out of shape. I'm a pretty good counselor, but my schedule doesn't reflect it. I need more referral sources and I'm stumped in how to get them. The low client load routinely triggers my core negative cognition of "I don't matter" and leaves me unmotivated to work - filling my head with messaging about messups and inadequacies. I forget I'm an adult and feel like the stupid little kid again. My inner child needs a hug. But so does the Mr.'s. He's in school. And he's loving it. The subject matter - in content, relay and purpose - is lighting him up. He's really good at it too. Watching him be so engaged and excited is delightful. I hate that he's been so vocationally dead for so long and no one noticed (or cared). But, things are different for him now and I think that means things will be different going forward. That's good. Scary to think about though. It's a little tough, him being so amped, and me being so, well, not. It feels harder to connect, to be seen and wanted. And that goes right back to core wounding stuff too. I'm working through it, but it's slow going. I know that's normal, but that doesn't make it feel okay. Besides that, we're currently broke. Savings? Trashed. Despite our low debt (just the house and my grad loan), the season is kicking our ass. With my client load low and he without an income for the next couple months, well, it's a big ouch. Especially with the big ass car repair, the needed new mower, my workshop hotel stay, running shoes, birthdays, baby showers and weddings. ... the list goes on. Then there's that vacation we need and want to go on (Steamboat, we're gonna figure out how to come for you!), the tires our cars are begging for, and then there's the dreams ... of a car with Bluetooth and a backup camera, the house with the land and the water ... Yeah, those dreams sit heavy on the backburner this season. I kind of resent it - the decision I have to make daily not to hit up the realtor or autotrader dot coms. I kind of resent how money seems to come easier (or show up in bank accounts) for others. I started looking online for jobs last night. I can't tell if it's smart or an attempt at running away from the discomfort of the season and trying to damn up a process that needs to flow through.

These are the thoughts as they come. This is #reallife. More later.

LOVE. 

Belize 2016

Commentary and pictures to come!

On likes

What makes you like or choose NOT to like one of my pictures on Instagram? Is it about you or about me? My joy or your judgement? 

What equates to "Nope" or "Amen?" Because you care about me and it's something I've posted? Is it because my dogs are in it? An alcoholic beverage is making an appearance It's got a kid or two (not mine)? I'm outdoors? The framing and/or subject matter is artistic? My caption is relatable? My caption is funny? It's overtly Christian?

What gets you to click?  

Because I can't figure it out.

And I've been noticing my OWN like" habits - what they're about ... Which filter I'm feeding my clicks through. And it's been interesting. Telling.

----

I think it's good to notice our qualifiers every once in a while ... and to wonder: What do they say about us and our love-ability of others??

my music: "dreams" by life of dillon

she's worth the whiskey

Double-fisting in Jamaica

There are moments (usually when I'm buzzed) when I wish I could live buzzed. No less, no more. Just buzzed. Cause the girl I am when buzzed? I LOVE her, want to squeeze her and hang out with her, like, ALL THE TIME. She's me, the real me. Fearless me. Emotional me. She sings when there's a good song on, knowing full well she can't carry a tune. She can't help but move her body to a rhythm, even if no one else is feeling the song. She says what she means (and, it's usually love and truth). She's up for nearly everything (within her moral compass) - conversation or action or dream. She's living and noticing the moment. She's undistracted. She's really happy. She's hopeful. She's slow and easy - like a non-churchy Sunday morn. She's completely okay with all that she is and all that she is not. She's willing and able and sure ... of God and life and self.

And, I love her. I really do.

I don't know many people like that in real life. I want to know more people like that in real life. Fun and easy and real and present. How do I find those people? How do I get that way ALL THE TIME without imbibing? Is it possible this side of heaven? In this culture?

I lean toward "no." But, I'm trying. I'll keep trying. Healing. Sanctifying. Getting closer to who I was designed to be. I'm trying.

So, "cheers" in the interim?

LOVE.

what my water bottle says about me

For years and years, I have tried and tried and tried to drink more water. For the sake of my skin, muscles, digestion … by glory, I have tried. And failed. Over and over and over again. And it’s not even like I don’t like water. I actually like it. Purified, tap, sparkling or spring — I’ll take it. I just suck at remembering to drink it.

I often tell my clients to eliminate obstacles and incorporate helps when working to achieve goals. If they want to work out in the midst of a necessarily busy schedule, join a gym they pass on their commute. If they want to quit smoking, first toss the carton and get a box of patches or buy a vape. So, when I wanted to start drinking more water, I knew having water with me at all times would be essential to success … so, a hunt for the perfect portable water bottle began.

“Portable = Light. Small. Refillable. Comfortable and easy to drink from on the go. Indestructible.”

And, ridiculous or not, my hunt has continued for years. Many a BPA-free plastic bottle has graced my kitchen counter and eventually made its way into a cabinet coffin. My goal of hydration had all but fallen to the wayside when I stumbled upon FRED in the aisle of my local Fresh Market. 

Yup, it’s shaped like a flask. Yup, it looks like a small vodka bottle ... but it comes filled with water and is refilled with water several times a day … by ME (Miss Couldn't Ever Remember to Drink Water). Yes, I'm drinking water these days like it's going out of style. Granted, my recent increase in water intake also coincides with the recent acquisition of our first refrigerator with an in-door filtered water dispenser, BUT I’ve also never been happier with a water bottle than I am with this FRED flask (learn about the product and company here). 

But, WOW, THE LOOKS I GET when I take a swig out of that thing.

Seriously, I meet judgement on a daily basis. Even people that know me (clients, co-workers, friends and family) have done double-takes. And all of this condemnation tossed my way (unwarranted) has gotten me to thinking ...

... About how often I have judged people without knowing the details of THEIR story

… About how often I have condemned another based on assumption and an unwittingly ignorant, self-biased perception. 

... About how little compassion I offer to those who appear different from me.

See, it looks like I’m throwing back whisky, but it's actually my attempt at getting what I need — life-giving H2O. I've chosen to drink water out of a flask because that works best for me as a I pursue healthy and whole. I am okay with how that's not always known and/or perceived as okay by others.

Every sideways glance of recent has been a reminder not only to continue working on self-compassion and self-acceptance, but to also cut others a break and refrain from judgement.

Unless given the privilege to hear and enter into another’s story, I cannot know why they are who they are and what they’re actually doing. My profession teaches me that in glimpses on the regular, but sometimes, when it’s personally impactful, I finally apply the lesson I’ve been learning ....

So, I’m grateful for FRED … for making it easier to reach my goals … that of healthy hydration AND that of growing in Christ-like compassion.

Join me?

spring is coming

As I've grown older and more self-aware, I find it impossible to ignore how affected I am by environment. I am in sync with warm days and light breezes, cool waters and long hours. I'm a Spring and Summer girl. I'd rather wear less clothes and wish for shade than bundle up and pray for a moment indoors. And, as it's been a long Fall and Winter, I find myself fully yearning for the nature of Spring. I need the promise of sun. The freedom of flip flops. I need a cold drink and a lazy, wasted afternoon. I need a break and a hope. I'm ready for Spring. Are you?

i was pregnant

It's a surreal statement.

I was growing a human. Me. I still don't quite grasp it. Despite the positive pregnancy tests. Despite the morning sickness. Despite the unusual cravings. Despite the ultrasound that proved it and ended it. Despite having the surgery that removed it. Still doesn't feel quite real.

But, I was pregnant. For two months, I was a mom ... body and mind. My boobs hurt and my free time was spent considering the merits of various strollers. And then, well, I just wasn't. Pregnant, that is. And the hormones tapered off. My boobs felt normal. And I cleared the cache on my computer so I'd stop seeing baby gear ads.

This is the reality of a miscarriage. Intense feeling and a hesitancy to let the feeling flow. 

playing catch up

So, what’s happened since July?

We got puppies! Now just over 6 months old, Gibbs and Grissom have stolen our hearts, some of our money, and a little bit of our sanity. Typical of their breed, our little guys are spunky, stubborn and completely lovable. Just three weeks ago, Grissom gave us a scare by breaking his foot (in two places) while playing outside at night with his brother. His little gimpy self should be cast free in a week or so (just in time for neutering)!

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We house hunted and put in offers on two different homes before changing our priorities and pulling ourselves out of the housing market to pay off our remaining debt (my car and my student loans). The hope is to re-engage a search in two years. 

Really loved this little place in Longwood, but it needed 70k in upgrades to fit us ...

I got busy, fast. My practice hit a tipping point for a bit at the end of the year and I was over 20 clients a week. The money was nice, but I felt the emotional toll. It surprised me and wiped me out. It was the impetus to get me thinking about who I really want to work with and why and that I need to make some professional adjustments in the new year.

The Mr. has spent the majority of his free time pursuing an education in developing mobile apps. Utilizing online resources, courses and a whole lot of hands-on trial and error, he’s learning a lot, fast. This year will have him enrolled in a mobile developers’ school locally and on the way to a new career. I’m excited and hopeful for him!

We entered counseling for marriage maintenance. We both felt ourselves slipping toward complacency and disconnection in life AND our relationship, so we moved quickly to avoid things getting icky. It’s been good. Hopeful. Reconnecting.

We capsized our boat! We’d set out to take a quick lap around Lake Fairview in our sailboat and one random gust of wind later, we (pups, included) were tossed into the chilly depths. For all the known dangers of sailing, I don’t think I really expected that to ever happen to us! But, we’re safe — the pups got above water, the boat was righted and the Mr. was able to bale out the majority of the water while a fellow sailor towed us into the dock. Talk about an adrenaline rush (and don’t even get me started on the two day crash that followed)!

Finally, I’ve been on a (yet unsuccessful) search for community. It’s as though my schedule never works with anyone else’s consistently, so I am forever trying and failing to connect. Most recently, I tried to engage in a women’s bible study that was even a bit out of my comfort zone … but, alas, my not being a mom (and, thus, not having particular constraints on my free time) and having an atypical work schedule got in the way again. My “word of the year” for 2016 is CONNECT and I've been feeling thwarted in all attempts thus far! I’ll keep trying though …

So, that’s it. That’s what’s been up. I’m hoping to be a little more present here as the year moves forward. No promises though :)

Love.

my music: "my church" by maren morris

Can I get an "amen"?

my music: "buy me a boat" by chris janson

insomnia

They call it secondary trauma. Exposure to another's tragic or uncomfortable experience results in a unique psychological effect. Unlike first-responders, who often cope with coming face-to-face with trauma regularly by detaching, a therapist's job is to attach - to enter in and empathize. We don't get to detach. And it's exhausting. But, sometimes - like tonight - it makes it so I can't sleep.

to have or not to have ...

Kids, that is. 

And, yes, that is the question.

It's a heavy, looming, invasive question. The answer, a simple yes or a simple no, but a syllable unfathomably complicated in context and consequence.

Sometimes I like the idea of kids. When I see the Mr. with a nephew. When I cuddle the same. When I hear a name I like, see a stroller I'd push, or a baby wrap I'd wear. Sometimes I feel the fit. When I realize how much I know about attachment and emotion and brain development. When I'm told how much I have to give. When I catch myself so delighted by a two-year-old's discovery or a 17-year-old's confidence. When I see a couple going about adventure and intimacy with a smiling kid in tow. Sometimes, I think I should HAVE.

But, sometimes I don't like the idea. When I see woman after woman disappear into nap schedules and momma drama. When I see a trip overseas exchanged for a new four-door car. When I realize I wouldn't be able to ride regular on a motorcycle for a long while. When I read in research how even the best nurturing and discipline doesn't fix what's broken in DNA. When I hear a song and note that the pull to carefree is still so strong, unsettled, and wanting to be satisfied. When I see what's now normal (scary) in the world and cringe at the emerging repercussions. Sometimes I think I should NOT.

Sometimes, I REALLY don't like the idea. Like, when I'm sitting grateful for the comfortable and delightful dynamic I have with my husband. In those moments, I think a kid would kill it ... and I revolt against the idea of parenthood.

Sometimes, I REALLY like the idea. Like, when I'm sitting in the middle of a family gathering, watching a 10-minute video montage of a nephew's life thus far. In those moments, I see how a kid could enhance a life ... and I smile at the idea of that experience.

So, to have or not to have?

I don't know. But, dang, if it doesn't feel like the ONLY question that matters these days. Sometimes, I wish the question felt less looming and invasive. Sometimes, I think it's a stupid, socially-forced question, not worthy of my time. Most of the time, I think it's really a presumptuous question — ridiculous to even think I have any control over God's creation (or not) of another human being.

But, at almost 34 years of age, it's still THE question bouncing around my head. And I ain't got no answers. :)

Yet.

Oahu, Hawaii

Fresh coconut water on the shores of the North Shore.