Throughout the last month, I’ve read quite a few posts about people revisiting their 2012 goals. Each time I read these I think, hmm, I should do that. But that’s kind of a goal in itself, isn’t it? Finding time to take stock. Ugh. Living is hard. Anyway, it is April now, after all, so before the entire year gets away I decided to finally take a minute and think about the things I wanted to focus on this year.

To save time, and because I’ve had them taped to the bottom edge of my monitor since January, here’s my list.

1. Be still, purposefully. I wanted to take the time to pause, to appreciate, to pray beforehand. Before I got into the overwhelming thick of it.

2. Love others as myself. Particularly, the difficult people. It’s easy to love the saints.

3. Gratitude as if this is as good as life can possibly get. Even if it keeps getting better, I wanted less expectation in my appreciation.

Being still hasn’t come easy to me. I mean, duh, of course it has not. But trying to? That has become more easy. The yoga studio I go to has weekly mediation classes. Not as in mediation during your practice, but a class solely focused on mediation. I have been attending for at least six months now, but I think it’s purpose is finally sinking in. I do think of yoga as a spiritual thing for me. Not a religious thing, but spiritual for sure as I tend to think of my entire life and every thought or action within this context. There’s always meaning for me, is what I’m saying. So. I say this all because people tend to think that meditation is about belief and religion. It is not, necessarily. It may be for you, which is nice for you, but it’s not the foundation. All of this to say that I think this meditation class has revealed to me that some other paths of belief might do a better job of teaching us how to forge and follow our own paths than what our own paths my have taught us. That is confusing.

What I really mean is that I feel like I’m finally learning to be still and really think about what I’m thinking, what I’m living, to the point where I don’t have to think about it at all. I get to simply be with it, albeit usually briefly. In the last few weeks I have begun adding meditation (or sitting quietly and trying not to be annoyed by it, every day is different) to most of my days and it’s going well. This isn’t to say it’s easy, but I think I can feel myself becoming closer to myself, to my being, and to my God. I don’t know if this is the point, but I do know that the point has got to be different for everyone, so I’d say it is working. For me. For now. I’m enjoying trying.

Loving others as myself hasn’t been a piece of cake, either. Goals aren’t easy, right? That’s why they’re goals– if they were easy we’d already be doing them, I guess. And, of course, just as I was feeling pretty at peace with my neighbors, a new pair has moved in a few doors down with a new pair of dogs and none of the four of them feel compelled to pick up after themselves. I can forgive the dogs– no opposable thumbs, no access to plastic bags, etc. I am having a much harder time forgiving the people. This seems to be my life’s metaphor: misplaced dog poo. Of course, I am like many others and can get annoyed by people and even dislike them in all kinds of settings. But there’s something about a person lacking the urge to pick up the poo of their own dog that sends me over the edge.

I immediately dislike them, I give them no benefit of the doubt, and I begin making assumptions about the rest of their life. I am super cool like that, if cool = jerk. I don’t know why this is such a sticking point for me, but I want to overcome it somehow. I feel like even if I excel at loving others is all other areas of my life, if I can’t somehow find some compassion for this neighbor that cannot clean up after their dog that I am falling short. I know how this sounds, because no one likes dog poo. Why should I like them? Why should I care? Why would anyone watch another person leave crap in your yard and feel good about it? But that’s not what I want. I don’t want to feel good about the poo, I just don’t want to have such a firey dislike for the person. I think that’s possible. I’m still working on it, though.

And gratitude in this moment, well, that has been both easy and difficult. I have my moments. I have times when I look around and think WOW. That is probably my most common thought, I am easily entertained impressed with life, I’ll admit it. It’s a great feeling. But. (Of course.) I also have a struggle, because I’ve chosen a life in which I cannot see the future like I once could. Or, like I thought I once could. Like the illusion I once lived wherein I thought I could see the future. You understand. Probably.

What I mean is, I used to be able to sit at a computer on April 2 and plan for October. I felt very comfortable doing that. And aside from the proverbial bus that might hit me, I didn’t see obstacles. Now, it’s not so easy. While there is also the proverbial bus, always, there are a lot of smaller hazards too. And I’m not so good at navigating them yet. Which is part of this goal, to be grateful for this time, not just because I don’t know what the next moment holds, but because I will never know. Part of me is scared of not knowing, part of me is scared of being 100% right and knowing the best is yet to be. Either way, I don’t want to speed through time not being grateful for now. Now is pretty good. I have not seen a bus in a while.

So, a quarter through this year, I’m pretty content with my goals. It is not all going perfectly, because it never could, but I’m not forgetting about them. I’m enjoying trying. For the most part.

Oh my gosh, I am such a backslider right now. Backslider? That is a word you can use in place of hypocrite because hypocrite just sounds so… harsh. And I made a decision a long time ago to not be harsh with myself. So, backslider. Because yesterday, on the first day of the year, some things just hit me. Hard. And I guess that is life… because I baited it all by saying I really had nothing to resolve myself to do on January 1, 2012.

Then my neighbor let her dog poop in my yard, right in front of me.

I got angry. I really did. Not at the dog, of course, but at my neighbor. And I scowled, and complained loudly and slightly maniacally to my mother whom I was on the phone with at the time. Which is when it hit me, that maybe I shouldn’t be getting so angry on the first day of the year about poop, of all things. Over the last year it has been increasingly important to me that I try to have love and compassion for all people, not just the ones who make it easy, or the ones I’m related to. All people. I strongly feel this pull, like I would confidently bet most humans do, to love my neighbor. I know this is the right thing in my heart, truly. I know that our worth is wholly equal, no matter what. But like many others, it is a challenge for me. And here I was, on Day One of 2012, SO VERY MUCH NOT loving my neighbor.

And, yes, many times I have had the thought and then been able to move on from it. But not yesterday, yesterday it haunted me and when something like that haunts you long enough, experience tells me it is for a reason. So, first things first 2012: Love Thy Neighbor. Like, the difficult ones especially. Because I know I’ve made it difficult for others to love me, often.

__________

I’ve been practicing yoga routinely for several years now. I am better for it, of this I am certain. It challenges me, physically and mentally, which is good, but also… hard. And one of the hardest poses of all of yoga for me comes at the end of a practice session, when it’s time to do nothing. Savasana is the name of the pose, and all it means is lying on your back, eyes closed, and being in the moment. Over the last few months it has become harder and harder for me to take that time. I am already thinking about where I have to be, or whether I will get a shower before everyone else crowds the locker room, or a million other things that really don’t matter, and in which a few more minutes won’t make a difference.

So Saturday, on the last day of the year, I decided I would start taking that time. That it was not only part of the class itself, but that it would lend intention to other parts of my life. Often times I find myself only taking time to be still when I have already gotten to the point of being overwhelmed. I’m not so cool with that. So on Saturday I lie there for a full 11 minutes (it turned out), eyes closed, pushing away the worry of what was going on around me. And you know what? Everything was fine. Better, even. So, I will Be Still in 2012. Ahead of time and on purpose.

___________

Also, yesterday, somewhere between being with family (and being unexpectedly hurt by one family member) and coming home to do laundry and clean the house, I noticed that I was attempting to escape from those feelings of disappointment and, just, blah by imagining something different for the future. While there is nothing wrong with imagining a future, of course, I don’t really think it should be used as a way to not deal with the now. And life has kindly spoiled me in this way, too, as it does just keep getting better and better so why wouldn’t I escape to the dreams of what’s to come? It’s fulfilled me beyond my expectations in so many ways so far.

But it also hit me that even if this is all there is, even if these moments now are as good as life will ever get, I have so much to be grateful for. I want to live and love right now as if this right here is totally enough. Because it is, more than. So now I have the intention to start acting like it. Even if I know the odds, even though I know life does get richer and more rewarding (and harder, amirite?), I won’t forsake what I’ve got right now. I will be grateful as if this here, right now, is the best life.

Here’s to 2012! Thanks for being here with me as I backslide a little, but mostly move forward.

At about 1:30 AM on Tuesday I fell face first on my bed after a long day of travel that included a ferry ride, a taxi ride, two flights totaling over seven hours of flying time, and one ninety minute drive home from the airport. Yes, I was on my favorite island again, and although it always proves worth the long travel day, it wasn’t until the next morning when I woke up at 7:00 AM— but it really felt like 10:00 AM— when I really could think about it. And be grateful.

As I have in the past, this time I went to be a dog sitter for friends. And maybe it’s just because I am an animal person but when I do this I never really feel like I’m helping that much. I mean, I get to be there. That makes me feel very lucky. Not to mention there were three separate cold fronts/winter storms that rolled through Colorado while I was gone, and if missing sub-zero temperatures isn’t lucky, I don’t know what is.

So when I woke up yesterday morning, in my home but with a week of friends and warm weather behind me, it felt impossible to decide what to be grateful for first. And I’m getting an overwhelming feeling of that lately. Maybe it’s just because I’m older and gaining experience and perspective, but it still feels like a very special thing to feel more grateful all the time. It has more depth, and that’s a beautiful thing to be allowed to learn.

My friend Melissa wrote about getting what you believe you deserve yesterday, and it sparked me to remember one of my favorite quotes: “Once I started counting my blessings, my whole life turned around.”– Willy Nelson. (I love me some Willy Nelson, people.) And isn’t that so true? Isn’t it so right that the moments when you see all you really have, even the tough parts of life, the parts you don’t want to deal with, as a blessing, you are forever more wise. You see the details, you see the little moments you may have passed up before, and you see the opportunity that is sometimes hidden when you’re too wrapped up in what isn’t rather than what is.

More and more now, when I’m struggling with something, I remember to pause. When a good thing happens but it’s bad timing, when someone doesn’t do what they say they’ll do, when things don’t happen according to my plan, I find myself more able to stop and think. Yes, I still ask Why? but it is different. It is Why is this happening? What am I supposed to be seeing here? How is this making me better, independent of anyone or anything else? I try to listen, and use it.

People call this different things: manifesting, God, magic, and although I know what I believe, I’m alright with the different names. Because it is all the same thing: there is good meant for you, and you are being given opportunity to see it every single day. Being grateful for it all, well, that is the opportunity.

Whether it be in the form of warm sun and friends, a home you can’t wait to get back to, or reminding yourself that there is nothing without meaning in your life, even the hard things, you can count them all. There is so much that probably sooner than later, you will lose count. I know I have.

I am sure I’ve mentioned it before, but I live in the city I grew up in. Not the next city over, not the next county, but the city. Having only left for college (only to return when I got tired of bouncing around schools) and travel, I sometimes get strange reactions from people. Somehow this is viewed as a drawback, and I can see why. I have had friends that grew up in very small towns and very large cities and couldn’t wait to leave. It wasn’t for them. But the thing about my city? It is so for me. While it is definitely not the only place on Earth I could be happy, I am so happy I’m here.

A lot of people dread being in their hometown. They don’t like seeing the same people, or people from the past. I may be the only person in the world who doesn’t mind that, but I don’t. And I went to school with people who went on to become professional athletes and rocket scientists, so I don’t have the most impressive story by far. I am merely happy where I am. I like my people.

Having recently passed two years since I started working on my own and spending very little time in offices and with in-person coworkers, I think I value my community even more. I’ve had to push further to be social, really. I’ve had to look for friends and acquaintances in new places, simply to have people to talk with. It sounds kind of silly, but the social, chatty part of me was never at a loss for an available ear in an office and so I never thought of how tough it would be on me for that to change. So I’ve made my office in other places in my community, and it continues to surprise me.

A lot of times I think people view staying in one place as limiting yourself, and in some ways it can. (I fully endorse travel.) But I think that limit is only in one way. Horizontally, I’ll say. There is this pressure to always keep reaching and reaching out while never getting deeper. Having to adjust to a life wherein I did not have standard issue friends like I did in an office (I was very lucky, I realize not all coworkers make good friends), I appreciate a lot more that I can become even more ingrained right where I am. I didn’t exactly try for that before; it was a default of working with other good humans. I had good friends, good interests, things I loved, and so pushing for more wasn’t really a necessity before. I didn’t have a huge need to be open to making my life even more full.

Looking back now, that was so silly, because allowing your life to become even more full is such a gift. And this city continues to surprise me.

When I think about training for races again, my brain consistently reminds me of reasons it will not be ideal. And the cause of most of these reasons is an unchangeable fact: I am older. My body is not the same as it was at twenty-five. How can it be ideal when I’ve put it through over a decade of running and some really tough training seasons? It cannot. Well, some bodies could. But mine cannot. As much as I’ve accepted this, it also feels like a constant adjustment.

I also know with all certainty, though, that nothing is ideal as you get older. In fact, I think ideal is a word to altogether stop using past the age of 25. There is no ideal. There is what you imagine, the worst that could happen, and somewhere in between. And that in between is where most of us live all the time, and most of the time it is so good.

I think the more comfortable I become with this, the more comfortable I become with every decision in my life. I am more accepting of relationships, of people, of myself. One of the toughest parts of this is realizing others are not on the same page. I am no good at this. Whether it be a relationship, running, work, the way I see it is there is probably going to be some pain. That’s the part you get comfortable with– the discomfort. In none of these scenarios should the discomfort be excessive, but expecting the ideal to unfold before you is pretty damn silly, now that I think about it. How are we really supposed to get anything done coming from that place?

Instead, I’m choosing to move forward with the mentality that if something is going to challenge you, make your life more interesting, and has the potential to teach you, do it. Get comfortable with discomfort and DO IT. Forget the ideal, it’s boring anyway.

I think it’s normal to dream. I do it all the time. When I was a kid, I would dream of impossible (for me) things like inventing boots that would allow you to jump onto the tops of buildings. I still think that would be really cool. If anyone knows of boots like that, please direct me to the link. I hope they have them at DSW!

Now, though, I dream of things I consider a little more necessary for my life. Which is sort of a strange thing to say, considering I sit here in a warm home, safe, while three wars are going on and millions of people are displaced from their homes. But as one of us, the fortunate ones, I also know now that dreams can be what puts us into action, the thing that makes us work harder to discover our place and purpose— or to allow it to be revealed to us.

One of my purposes, I know, is to have people around me. That may not sound like a true purpose, but I know I work and live best when not just my life but my actual presence is full of others. I do spend time alone and I enjoy it, but when I compare it to a house full of people and life, alone never wins.

This is hard for an unmarried person with no kids and one dog. The opportunity to be alone is presented a lot more often than not. So I find myself working hard to make my life and home a place that welcomes others. I have spent the last year doing minor renovations in my small house, and every time I made a decision I found myself asking “how many people can I fit in this space?” Because that’s what I dream of— a space packed with people I care about, family, friends new and old.

My current house, though small, does this okay. The kitchen and dining area are open to one another, which allows for more gathering space in the area where, cliche as it is, people always end up.  What I dream of, though, is a kitchen that feels like more than a kitchen. A kitchen with cooking space and eating space and sitting-around-eating-and-talking-until-we-cannot-move-and-are-too-tired-to-care space.

I know it’s very Western American to want a big space. I know people that live in large cities only dream of a kitchen with more than a square foot of counter space, but I can’t help it. I want everyone I know to be able to fit into my kitchen, and that includes half of the Internet.

And here are some of the “rules” I’ve created for this imaginary space in which my life can be lived:

1. It cannot be too fancy.

…to say hello, actually. Not goodbye. (Any Mickey Mouse Clubbers out there?) Because we’re getting ready around these parts. For company, family, friends. For cooking and more baking and gift wrapping like it’s my job, grateful procrastinator that I am.

But I’m not ready to sign off just yet. Not without first saying THANK YOU!  Thank you to everyone who read, commented, and/or sent emails in support of my recent posts on weight and body image. You have reminded me that if you feel the need to share something, to say it, that no matter the scale or who you may or not reach, you should always share. I’m reminded that I do know what’s good, and that I should always trust that feeling that says “share this.”

Which brings me to this: there are things we should always do, right?  As there are things we should never do.  A great blogging friend of mine, Barb, mentioned this recently, and I responded on her post with my Always and Nevers:

Always: Listen more than you talk; Go outside if it’s a sunny day; Play with the dog even if you’re tired.

Never: Apologize for eating dessert; Believe people have enough time to think about your faults; Get completely comfortable.

And now I’d add, always be grateful for the progress of the world of technology that has allowed for social interaction with people I likely never would’ve met otherwise; Internet friends.

Do you have any Always and Nevers? I’d love to read them!

And from my house to yours, I hope you have the happiest, most blessed of Christmases, or Saturdays as your case may be.

Last Saturday, November 13th, marked one year since I quit my 9-5 corporate job. Not that a 9-5 corporate job is always a bad thing to have. It’s not. But the 9-5 corporate job I had?  Well, that one was bad.  The work, though not what I wanted to be doing per se, was fine. My coworkers, they were also very good.  I miss them the most. (Okay, also potlucks and regular happy hour.) But the environment I was in, the management, the opportunity for forward movement both for the organization and myself… well, all of that was awful. Soul-sucking, if you will.

And I know you will.  Because many of you have been where I was. You have dreaded getting up in the morning, like I used to. You have rolled your eyes so much you think they’ll stick that way, like I used to.  You have hidden out in the bathroom (perhaps on the other end of the hall, perhaps on an entirely different floor) just to get away for a MINUTE, like I used to. You’ve had Sunday Evening Sydrome wherein no one wants to be around you because, yes, you are already dreading Monday morning. Just like I used to.

Yes, I went through all of that. I was given more responsibility! A change in title! Eventually more money! Things to do! Deadlines! New things to learn! And for a while, all of that does work. It gets us through, until we find our something else. And me, I found my something else. I sat for a over a year thinking of my something else. It wasn’t an overnight something else. It wasn’t a perfect something else. But, it was the one something else that allowed me to move away from all of those things that I mentally, physically, and emotionally could not handle any longer.

The last year hasn’t been easy. I would say, really, that it’s been filled with more worrying and wandering and searching than I had ever imagined. If I’d known how hard it would be to intentionally ride this roller coaster of the unknown as opposed to just being on the ride I was on before, I am not sure I would have chosen it.  But that’s the point, right?

I tell myself that a lot. I tell myself that I need these ups and downs, this time of uncertainty, of not being able to plan anything too far in advance for fear of how my life will be at that point. I need that, because it is the constant reminder that those things are always true, and we have to know what we know in our minds and hearts in spite of what we cannot see. I feel like every few weeks in this last year, I’ve gone through that very same thought process. And every time I go through it, every time my faith is restored a little more, I feel like I’m getting a second wind. Except I guess it’s a third, a fourth, a fifth. By my count now, I’m probably somewhere around my 23rd wind.

It’s difficult to conclude my thoughts here. This year has been so many things to me, and listing everything doesn’t really seem right because it’s only a year later—while still quite unsure of what’s ahead, while still hoping for so very much—that I can look back and say everything has gone just as it should.

The change in me, though hardly outwardly visible at times, has been huge. I think about things that had never occurred to me before. I know how to do things that I never would have had the confidence to try before. I’ve been more resourceful and had to act more sure of myself than I ever knew I could be. I’ve had to look people straight in the eye who were doubting me, some of them quite justifiably, and act anyway. Because I knew what was right. I knew a year ago, and I know now.

None of this means I have anything figured out. None of this means I have a new direction or plan. What it does mean is that it’s been a year, I’m still standing, I feel really good and really blessed about my life, and in 365 days I have not hidden in a bathroom stall even once.

The way through, is through.

Easy enough, right?  As someone who’s now officially thirty-one, I can honestly say I know that.  (And if I’ve emailed you or left a comment on your blog recently with similar words, well that’s because I’ve been repeating that to myself a lot lately, too). Even when you know something, though, there are times you need a reminder. In the past, a lot of things have worked out essentially exactly how I thought they would.  I’ve been lucky that way. So, it’s kind of incredible that at a time in my life when I chose to change, to exercise my free will (if you will), things are working out in a way I could not have began to predict.  Then again, I didn’t really try to predict.  I knew better than that, at least.

It’s a tough line to walk for anyone who writes publicly to express her thoughts and feelings without actually spelling out every detail that’s led to those thoughts and feelings.  So, at the very least I can thank everyone who read and/or gave me advice and well wishes here for your patience and understanding. I am lucky in that I know the people that take the time to comment on my little, often poorly written feelings have the best of intentions and only want good for me. Seriously lucky.

Moreover, I know I’m lucky to realize that going through something is just that, going through. You could not have convinced me ten years ago that there was an end to certain phases in life. You could not have convinced me that huge things didn’t go on forever, that once you were The Loser you weren’t always going to be The Loser.  The Loser is just an example, I don’t really think I’m a loser. It’s just I know better now, and I’m so very grateful. I know things pass, and there’s always something waiting to keep the things I fear from actually coming to be.  Even when the worst happens, I know it’s not actually the worst.  And at the very least, there is always a counter balance there to remind me. All I have to do is look around. All I have to do is go through it, and I’m grateful that at thirty-one that doesn’t seem like the tall order it did at twenty-one.

In between the 1,001 non-exciting things going on around here (took a break from the kitchen and ended up painting furniture. Yeehaw! The fumes!) I am spending some time enjoying the season. It’s incredibly warm (88 F today) but at the same time, there is that change in the air.  And, I lie, because I’m also spending plenty of time contemplating life and life changes and what this last year has been like.  In about three weeks or so it will have been about one year since I decided to change everything around, quit my job, and “figure out” my life.

Well, I did those first two things, and let me just say that last thing is pretty much impossible. So, if you ever decide to do something drastic, and “figure out” your life, set your expectations very, very low.  I mean, LOW. Like, survival = success low.  Then, you won’t be surprised when it is almost a year later and although you’ve discovered so much about yourself and the life you’ve created vs. the life you want and how those two things both relate to each other, you will also feel some comfort in going to  bed every night just about as clueless as you were before. Only happier. Which I guess was half the point to begin with. Slight disappointment is worth happiness, even if those don’t really go hand-in-hand.

And where was I?  Oh, yes, fall.  Let me just say, it is just incredible around here this year.  While leaves are only just beginning to change in the lower country (read: 6,000 feet or so), just a couple thousand feet higher is simply amazing.  Better than I remember in any recent year, in fact.

So, take a break from either being just as lost as ever (like me) or knowing just where you’re going (many other people, apparently) and look at these photos. You will not be disappointed.

)

)

))

]]> http://justrunjustlivejustbe.com/2010/09/28/fall-not-disappointing-at-all/feed/ 7