Tag: journey

Simple Moments

mary at 3In the midst of a frenzied few weeks, when breathing into a paper bag is my stress reliever, I have tried really hard to FOCUS…(the caps are me, telling myself to focus right now at this very moment because even in writing about focus, I seem to lose it).  Anyway, there are many lifetime events swirling around me right now: death, new driver, graduation, major home projects, none of which has  sent me over the edge.  I tell myself that I’m handling them like a trooper.  Except not really.  So what threw me over the edge?  Taking out my warm weather clothing, only to realize that while my psyche may have withstood the longest winter EVER, my body has not.  Nothing fits.  Stomping around like a 14-year-old didn’t make me feel any better, especially since I only felt winded.  Finally getting back to the gym this week only validated what poor shape I’m in.  And while body consciousness is usually irrelevant in my day-to-day musings, today it is LOOMING AT ME LIKE OBNOXIOUS WORDS ALL CAPS.  Do you know how hard it is to suck in your stomach when you’re doing planks, or how disconcerting it is when your boobs bump into your gut rendering it almost impossible to complete a crunch?  I tell myself, that this too will pass, that my butt will be back where it’s supposed to be in no time at all.  I will face all these major changes in life with a body that is as tight as my spirit.  Right?

While my momentary body consciousness may be the expression of the challenges I’ve faced as of late, I think the root of my anxiety lies in the fact that while I am fine with life moving forward, I am not always fine with how well or effectively I’ve lived thus far.  Note, that this statement comes from that guilt ridden, Irish Catholic school girl inside me who will never be satisfied with how well I’ve done anything until I’ve earned a feast day.  But as life will have it, something extraordinary happened.  While Steve and I were bickering about which depressingly expensive pool liner we were going to purchase to replace the one that lived 3 years beyond its life span, the young man behind the counter asked me my name…(to which Steve used this momentary distraction to vacate, to make his tee-time) when I told him, he smiled and said, “You were my teacher at Holy Angels”  It was lovely to catch up, but even more so that he actually remembered some things that I said in class that stuck with him.  A simple moment, but remarkable given the funk I was in.  It was nice to know that I did make an impact on a life.  Sometimes it’s just nice to know.  We should all be better at letting others know how they’ve impacted our lives.  I know I will.

Time

winterspringAs reflected by the weather…time seems to be at a standstill for me, leaving me with a bit of whiplash since it usually speeds by so fast I never seem to be able to keep up…even with good shoes.  When a particular moment in history is difficult, it feels like the clock will never move again.  I am stuck at an impasse.  Mother Nature shares my sympathies, given the late April snow storm we had yesterday and oddly, it gives me comfort, allowing me to stand still for a moment and try to catch my breath.  As I stood in my yard yesterday morning at the crack of dawn, I tried to recognize the beauty and peace of the moment and stifle the growing frustration at the circumstances of my life right now.  Even in the cold, when the exit of winter is long over due and stubbornly forces the entrance of spring into stasis, I find peace in the stalemate.  While I am anxious for new life to begin in the resurrection of spring, I pause to reflect on springs past and pull out memories that have given me strength to move ahead into the warmth of spring.

The Shoes of Boston

saints of boston 2Literally moments after I published “Step by Step”, I became aware of the tragedy in Boston.  While I am still walking in my shoes here in Wisconsin, I immediately asked myself what new steps I could take to appease the horror of what happened.  So I want to point out the many shoes of the Saints of Boston, who used their shoes to bring help, comfort, hope, healing and many more unbelievable qualities to those affected by the bomb at the marathon.  The response of what happened after the tragedy is proof positive that good does outweigh evil.  The evil actions of one can not quell the goodness of the many, that is the most important memory I want to take away from this tragedy.  Hopefully it will be what the rest of the world sees as well…that we are not the axis of evil that our enemies portray us to be, but strong, brave and compassionate human beings.  America is defined by those people who ran to the victims and offered their help.  Our pride is reflected in the eyes of those people who stood together singing our National Anthem at the Bruins game.  That is the America that I want to stand up and get noticed…not a blood lust for revenge.

While it is understandable to feel rage after being bombarded over and over again with news of violence, like those Saints in Boston we have to hold on to that same source of goodness that drove them so we don’t let vengeance rule the day.  In all truthfulness, I am disgusted by some of the idiotic commentary on social media escalating the blood lust for retribution or even linking our president or the government to the growing tide of violence that has swept our country.  I am tired of anger, paranoia and panic being the exemplifying qualities that define America.  We are better and stronger than that.  When we let the few who have committed heinous acts intensify our distrust of one another, then we accept defeat.  I would venture to say most Americans are like those Saints in Boston and it is the voice of those reasonable people who must guide us forward…not those that feed our fear of the government and each other.  Grieving belongs to us, vengeance belongs to God.

I pray for peace and justice, for reasonable and level heads to move us forward.  As always, first and foremost, I pray that we champion love.

Step by Step

my shoesThese are my shoes…kind of quirky, kind of fun.  You can design your own on the Adidas website.  I had my name added, not because I was living in fear that someone would steal them, (although they are cool), but as a reminder that it is my feet that are walking this path.  I am the one putting one foot in front of the other, or standing still, or even on the occasion walking backward.  These are my shoes, no one else’s.  Only I can get myself where I need to go.  It’s true that at times, others have given me direction, cleared obstacles and smoothed the way and some have even put obstacles in my path to trip me up…but I am responsible for how I move forward.  Regardless of what is ahead, I can choose to dance or drag my feet.  I can stomp my feet in a tantrum at the unfairness of it all or simply let it go and run forward as fast as I can.  I am the only thing that can stop me.  When I allow chatter like “You can’t do that”, or “You’re not worthy” to impede my steps, I can’t blame anyone but me.  No one can limit me, but me.  The intent of the universe is for each of us to achieve our highest purpose.

This is underlined even more for me as a woman of faith.  When God is for me, who can be against me?  The boon of spiritual assistance gives me no excuse.  As I look to my future and I walk in my shoes, I remember that blame will stop me in my tracks, and will never get me where I need to go, as will lending an ear to those who want me to fail.  I walk in my shoes…no one else.  While my journey may be a singular affair, the upswing is that I don’t have to walk alone.   I can choose companions to walk along side me, which does abate the loneliness of my life’s adventure.  I’m better now than when I was younger at avoiding those who slowed me down or confused my sense of direction, yet I still have to remind myself once in a while when it is time to move out of a crowd and forge ahead on my own.   And while my journey may include walking in step with fools at times, there are many times in hindsight where I realize that I myself was the fool.  I am thankful for those angels God put in my path when it was most needed, and I hope I’ve been an angel to others in their time of need too.

My steps may not be as quick as they used to be and my shoes have taken on a more practical nature, but I embrace the adventure of every new day…I forge on happily, just me and my shoes.