On letting the light in

Our neighbors never open their blinds. This morning, noticing it for the hundredth time, I wondered why. I know someone occupies that room and uses it during the day, so why do they not open the blinds? I do not understand indoorsy people. No judgement, just baffled - I really don't understand how to be satisfied with artificial light and small spaces. I'd feel trapped and be experiencing some major FOMO. 

Do you open the blinds? I get the occasional privacy reasoning, but if you don't open them otherwise, clue me in ... Help me understand ...why???! 

LOVE. 

8.30.16//

8.30.16// Today, before the coffee, before the teeth brushing and dog feeding, I put my running shoes on. I do this on the days I'd rather stay in bed. Because if I don't, I'll stay in bed, at least figuratively - letting life happen to me, barely participating and certainly not engaging. And it never fails - if I'm dressed to run, then I'll run, and once I'm done running, I feel capable/productive/alive ... and, well, who wants to stay in bed when there's a life to be lived, you know?

toil turmoil

I've been struggling with Mondays. I feel my spirits drop as I enter Sunday, anxiety whispers a bit as Sunday evening falls, and come Monday a.m., I'm dragging, sometimes even despairing. So, I've been trying to figure out what that's about and, after much mental munching, I'm stuck between two possibilities (it could be a both/and, but I'm hoping it's more of a this or that) ...

1. My junk is getting in the way of potential joy. I have a history of experiencing negative emotions and thoughts when I feel inadequate in or unsure about something important. That pattern usually runs tandem to various forms of quitting. If I don't know what to do and feel like I SHOULD know what to do, I run. Not so much because I fear failure, but because I don't believe in myself enough to work hard and succeed. At my core, I sense I'm insignificant, lacking, even, and so, I prove self-defeating. Time and time again. Despite my acute awareness of this fact, I don't know that I've broken the habit yet. And, unfortunately, this work I do? I feel so inadequate at it all the time. Their problems? So big. My wisdom? So small. Eck.

2. This might not be my calling. This emotional/relational work, it might not be for me. This carrying the weight of people's expectations and hopes, this feeling so heavy as I struggle to know what to say, what to do, how to react to people's desire for saving — I can't love it. I don't. It feels wrong. Still, I don't know that I'm not just trying to hold onto something as part of the job that is actually NOT supposed to be part of it — this feeling like I'm supposed to know how to fix their stuff, or at least know how/where to direct them toward fixing their own stuff. That could be the problem - my impossible expectations for self. Or maybe it's not, and that's just an excuse - an attempt to disown something inherent in all who BELONG in the profession. I don't know.

But if it's not my calling (and, don't get me wrong - I think we can have lots of callings, places where God's unique design matches up with the world's needs), what is? What am I about? 

I don't know.

Yesterday, someone asked me where I want to be in five years. My brain disintegrated. Because, I don't know anymore. I know I want to be married to the Mr., but that's all I've got. That, and maybe living slightly off the grid with a kid of our own and our dogs. I don't have energy around much else and that worries me.

Anyway, just more evidence of the ponder :) Until next time,

LOVE.

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. 

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??

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.

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?

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.

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.

on being me

Sometimes it's really hard being in a different stage of life/living a logistically different life than (what seems like) everyone else. It's a little bit lonely. And trying to figure out how to make the most of it instead of being depressed by it? Well, that's a daily battle.

Tonight I dance, alone, in my living room. Wine glass in hand and a little happy, and a little sad conflicting in my heart.

this is not the most wonderful time of the year

At least not for me.

Come the close of Christmas Day, I start yearning for Spring. Every year, as December arrives and hurtles toward holiday hurrah, I start clamoring for sunny days. My soul longs for Resurrection. My spirit scans for lake views. My body begs for the freedom of a bikini. I think my neural pathways find their way to joy more easily when the middle of March comes around. By April, I find myself acquainted with hope. By May, I believe in a reality of abundant life. But, until then? I struggle. And ache for something more. Something different. And this week — the one immediately following the emotional high of Christmas — is the hardest to plod through …

But, I’m walking … little steps today toward the March … April … May of tomorrow.

#30days ... the list goes on

I am grateful for ...

How deliciously warm it is under the covers on a cold morning. 

My parents.  So many reasons.

Wand curling irons - so we straight-haired girls can change it up occasionally.

The struggle to get clients - I'm learning so much about myself, God, the profession and how to help people as a result of the less than ideal circumstances. 

The ability to Google - I am thankful for the ease of access to all the informations whenever, wherever.

The fact that growing up doesn't mean we're done growing. For learning new things each day and changing as a result, I am thankful. 

Pinterest - it made kitchen updating fun and helps make Christmas shopping a little less stress-inducing. 

Random dachshund sightings - so friggin' cute and joy-bringing!

My home - the person that shares it with me, the fact that we've made it our own, the cozy parts and the less than ideal pieces - it's ours and it's home and I'm so thankful for the blessings of shelter and security (and a low mortgage!).

#30days ... singalongs, beautiful weather

I'm grateful for ...

Last night's primer painting hour - I loved working hard with my best friend, listening to 90's pop on Pandora and making progress on our #kitchenupdate

Friday blue skies and breeze - it's days like today that make me thankful to be a Florida girl.

#30days ... traditions, tub, granite, greggo, validation

I'm grateful for ...

Potters (certain stuffed Christmas penguins) being thrown at my head. I'm thankful for the Mr.'s understanding that a little tradition can go a long way toward good on a "bad day."

A Sunday breakfast date with Tub and Reece. Grateful for the munchkin snuggle that came prior, too.

Affordable granite countertops! Pictures to come, but I am thankful for the refreshed, luxury look our "discount" granite gives our #kitchenupdate.

Greggo's unexpected (and welcomed) text invite to join him for dinner. I sincerely wish I could have made it happen!

Unsolicited permission from my mom to take care of myself. After eight clients in a 12-hour day, the suggestion of a warm shower, a little TV and a glass of wine felt wonderfully validating.