Age is Just a Number

Where to Light the Fire

Addendum to yesterday's bloggy love post ....  I found spouse-man's blog, sitting quietly on the galaxy, undisturbed by posts or comments.  If you feel the urge to toss a lit match his way, here's the link:

Spouse-man

Today's Quote

Avoid stupid happiness [such as Schadenfreude]

~ the Dalai Lama

Apathy Acne...part 2

Another item on my calendar for the week was to spend 24 hours at this.  I needed to blast home after work on Friday, eat something and get there in time to start.  It wasn't easy though. First, I obediently sent my money earlier in the month to the appropriate address and checked that little to-do off my list and had peace of mind; all I needed to do was to show up.  Not to be, as the envelope found its way back to my mailbox:  Undeliverable.  Huh?  I checked, sure enough I addressed it correctly.  It took me another week to follow up on the address problem, and by then I only had time to make sure it was okay to just bring it with me.  Make another note to remember the envelope when I go.

Enter into the window of last week and I was expecting something like directions to this thing.  However, being busy and all, it occurred to me about Thursday I hadn't heard a word.  My first reaction was to get angry.  That's how it works in my brain.  The next reaction is to play the mental gymnastics game that flips from one thought to the other:

"You don't have time to go there, in fact, it would be a relief to not hear anything and you can have your weekend back, and hold someone else responsible for not letting you know.  This kind of event is really for people more biblically mature than yourself, more able to understand and take in the knowledge;  more worthy."

I was not to be let off the hook and did actually receive some form of information at about 9:30p.m. Mountain Standard Time, a half hour before my bedtime goal, Thursday evening.  Now I had a new thing to be angry about;  "What? I need to prepare for this event?  Fine, now I don't have time to prepare!  This is not going smooth at all.  See?  I really am not supposed to go."

I left work early to be able to round up my things in time to drive there.  I felt rushed, delinquent, lacking and miffed.  Then I had a new thing to be miffed about: No, there were not balloons marking the gate on this dark, country, dirt road in the middle on nowwhere.  However the house was lit up like Las Vegas on a moonless night.  I drove in, and it appeared to be the right place; in fact I walked in to ask the first person I saw in this building in the middle of nowhere if this is where all these people are meeting for this event. I felt pushed and pulled and ready to cry.  Okay, so I did.

I settled down, settled in and we began.  I can't regurgitate details of my 24 hours.  I can relay my foremost lesson.  What I have been ingesting - that is: eating - is my daily craziness:  this unfulfilling, lightning speed, no room for error, no room on the calendar life I call mine.  There is no nutrition, just calories.  Calories that make me cry from feeling angry that there were no balloons on the gate.  Calories that make me feel that I shouldn't be at a place where God shows up.  Calories that make me feel this overburdening Apathy.  God-breathed words are nutrition dense. 

Eat Vegetables - Clear Skin.  Eat Pop Tarts - Pimples.  Apathy Acne.

Eat your vegetables.  Ingest God-breathed words.

Apathy Acne

Last week, if I had had time, I would’ve written a post that looked something like this:

What Keeps Me Busy

Piano Lessons – I am a pathetic student; sometimes I practice, most times not.  It is a love hate relationship. Why on earth do I take lessons if I am not going to be diligent about learning? But I do, and I learn a bit, bit by bit and my teacher is patient with her adult student.

Master Gardener Activities – There was a big conference in town for the Green Industry (those who work in anything related to dirt, grass, trees, flowers and landscaping) and I spent 10 hours there attending classes and volunteering: a day off from work, and education and volunteer credits. I love this stuff – my hands are happy in the dirt.

Painting – I volunteer paint for a particular organization; those who know me know, but I attempt to stay anonymous. It takes one or more evenings on a given week. It is very fulfilling. It’s like personal worship time.

Dog Walks – I have two high energy dogs who will destroy my real estate if I don’t walk them and exercise their bodies and brains.

Vehicles - I have two cars that seem to find their way into the shop just about every month, one or the other. Think logistics and bus passes. I attempt to manage my life on a bus schedule where my bottom line is "I don’t run for buses". Sometimes I am in the red. This is not fulfilling.

I am a stepmom, wife and homeowner. Sometimes fulfilling, sometimes really….well, ah….anyway.

Isolation Prevention - I am part of a small group that meets part time at my home: think vacuuming after aforementioned dogs and making sure the dishes are cleaned up. Fulfilling, interesting and fun.

Work - I work fulltime. I commute just under an hour each in the a.m. and in the p.m. - if the traffic is aggreeable.  My workplace is undergoing some changes that required my "more than usual" presence mentally and physically for meetings. Not so much fulfilling, but they pay me to show up, and, for now, I need to be paid.

Rest - I need sleep. Fulfilling when it happens, and not when it’s not…

Eating - I don't eat Hamburger Helper and attempt to not eat out much - think time to make food at home without boxed conveniences.

That was last week through Friday afternoon …. to be continued…

Oklahoma City National Memorial

While visiting this fine city, admittedly I had completely forgotten about this event from the '90's, and certainly had not considered that there was a memorial in place.   So we visited.   First, it was cold - And windy.  Maybe I hadn't mentioned that about this time of year in Oklahoma. 

The Memorial is rather extradordinary once you wrap your brain around it, and geographically get your bearings.   We chose not to tour the Museum itself;  for one we weren't prepared for a $20 pp charge, and two we had a time factor to pay attention to.  Also, admittedly - and maybe this is hardhearted, but you're hearing me admit this right here and now - I don't do well with events or circumstances meant to deliberately tug my heartstrings in a graphical kind of way (baby shoes and burnt purses, for example) ... as a way to remember a horrible event.   We headed outdoors to walk around the grounds in the cold and wind.   There are two huge walls on either end of a reflecting pond which is a replacement for what used to be the through street. 

One wall is inscribed with "9:01" - before the event, and the other with "9:03" - after the event.  It is impressive, particularly at night with light shining through it. 

On the actual site of the destroyed building sit chairs representing each person who lost their life.    They too are lit up in the evening and it makes for a rather humble and innocent representation of this tragedy.  The foundation still stands, as well as the courtyard serving as the original entrance from street.  According to the local residents, the thunderous boom could be heard and felt over 5 miles from the site.

If you haven't already been here, put this on your to do list for the next time you find yourself in Oklahoma City.

note:  pictures taken from the internet as it was too cold to hold the camera still enough to take my own picture ... much less from a hundred feet in the air.   

Today's Pic

For a little background, go here, and here ... and here.

Together-ness, or Alone-ness

While listening to Scott teach last Sunday about Going it Alone or Together the image of a story my dad told me flooded into my mind from who knows which archive buried in my brain.

He was in the Army in WWII and happened to be a smoker at the time. One day while in the middle of Africa he decided to quit. No patches, no support group or special gum. He just decided in his mind that he was done smoking. He told me that "the guys" would taunt him and try to get him to smoke – shaking their packs at him and other nonsense. After getting enough of it, at some point, while driving a truck ( I think an ammunition truck!) down a dusty road, he pulled his gun on one of them and told him "if you do that again I’ll shoot you".

I heard many stories from my dad about how he used brute force to solve his problems, so it didn’t shock me in any way to hear that. He was raised in rough times; in an orphanage, in foster homes, out on his own…on into the Army, nearly mortally injured, sent home to recover or die. What I was always impressed by – meaning, as a kid I was truly Impressed – is that he was able, by his own strength, to make up his mind and just do it; he set his mind and the task was done. I inherited that trait. I have always been proud of that trait.

Play - alone.
Move out on my own – alone.
Go to college – alone.
Take care of business – alone.
Make small and large decisions – alone.
Home repairs, car repairs, bodily damage repairs – alone.
Live – alone…. All until my late 30’s.

The toughest challenge is to live with another person well. I became aware on Sunday just how much my dad’s example has penetrated my character; how much it has possibly hindered my relationships, how much it has probably hurt me.

Going it alone has advantages, as Scott said. My mood affected no one – it didn’t bounce off anybody to come back and nail me. Life wasn’t so messy, it was simpler. It was soooo much simpler. I once told spouse-man the best vacation would be if he went somewhere with the girls for a week … and I got to stay home. Is that bad?

Now I am wondering and pondering about 1. being Proud of the trait and 2. the Trait itself. It is difficult to reach out and depend on other people, especially when God gave me so many physical talents and abilities to do things myself. Reaching out emotionally has netted great, great disappointment in the past. I find that people are quick to jump in to help with material things when someone is in need, but shy away from helping relationally - like schools of fish when you dip below the surface and swim near them. So I wonder how many others out there inherited a similar trait - one that keeps all of us hovering at a distance like a school of barracudas?

Observing

After spending 7 lucky years of hurting and praying, praying and hurting, not necessarily in that order or consistency, experiencing exactly what Stephanie tells us about in her recent post about Trust, I am observing, and being open to a changing relationship between spouse-man and his oldest daughter. I have not yet healed from or built trust back, nor has he. It will take time.

A year ago when she got her driver’s license and car, she’d swing by our house in that newborn sense-of-freedom flurry, and we saw her more in that first month or two than we had in a year. She had a new boyfriend we didn’t meet until 6 months or so into it; earlier this year. We’ve watched her struggle with getting into college partly because of that "I want to do it myself" attitude, and partly because of The Mother’s lack of knowledge of anything pertaining to gaining knowledge. We’ve heard her say that she needs to "get out of that house" (The Mother’s) in frustration and in the same sentence tell us that she needs to "play the game" though because The Mother is going to "pay for" tuition. I’ve noticed – with detached faint joy - that she has called her dad somewhat frequently - more recently - in her efforts to get college information, and we’ve been severely dismayed by the fact that she wasn’t able to get her mother’s cooperation in obtaining financial aid – the cheap government kind. In the end, the end being actually getting herself settled into her dorm and starting classes, it appears that The Mother put her efforts into cosigning on a private loan with high interest…and the interest starts now thankyouverymuch. I won’t even go into other promises we’ve heard second-handed-ed our way that might make a head shake a little.

We were invited last evening to have dinner with her at her dorm/cafeteria where, she claimed, they serve pretty doggone-good food. And sure enough, the food wasn’t bad, and there was evidence that lunches and breakfasts were pretty good too. She has done pretty good for herself in that she works at the dorm which nets her free room and board. Amazing, free room and board, a loan for tuition and books – where DOES our child support go anyway? Yes, still. That aside, we visited for a whole 2+ hours. Yes, we sat down, met some of her friends, ate, had conversation, and I had hope. She is growing up and growing out of the clutches of her mother’s direct influence – to some degree. I have reservations, I admit, as she jumps when her mother calls her home to run an errand or fill in where she stops. I’ll bet as soon as school gets a bit busier those trips may decrease over time. When she gets older, molds her own life; not so many trips home. But she invited us over to eat and that’s cool. Spouse-man meets her after her class some days on his way to his. As we made our way to our car she looked back and asked if she’d see him tomorrow…That’s cool.

Gough Island

Ever heard of it?  Apparently it is the "most remote place with a constant human presence".   Just a little geography lesson for the middle of your week....

 
Google Earth it!