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Reasons

Shortly after the New Year, I took about a three week break from Facebook, deleting the app from my phone. I felt that it was in my best interest. As a whole, it made me feel wretched about myself (or bitter, or judgmental, or a slew of other negative emotions). Not to mention the amount of time I wasted.

It was hard at first, as most habits are, to break. But, as the days went on, it became easier, and I had more time to be engaged in the present. I was looking less at my phone for the red notifications. However, there were certain things I missed, such as seeing pictures of those that live far away, or sharing in others' happy news.

So, after some time, and after I felt like I had found some balance, I decided to log back in. It was the day after the inauguration and the day of the women's march. Two of my best friends and I went together. We joined about 5,000 others in Riverside. People of differing beliefs and backgrounds came together in solidarity, each person choosing …
Recent posts

when you are done

This will probably read more like a quick update instead of my usual posts. It's been a while. I am not entirely sure when I last wrote, or what I wrote about. Probably Grace. Or thanksgiving. And I am sure there was certainly some angst woven somewhere in there. Maybe even a curse word or two.

I can be all about the angst. Sure, there is a time and place, but it's heavy, man. I mean, it's a lot for one person to carry. All. The, Time.

I think it is inherently good to be honest about areas of necessary growth. A huge area for me {although it can be a positive thing} is my emotions. They own me. I feel things deeply. For all the things. All. The. Time. This can be problematic when I have been wounded, or when my emotions are overspent on the same scenarios.

But, with the New Year we ventured back out into the pews or chairs. Among the old and the new. Heavy with liturgy or twinkling with lights under purposely exposed ducts.

I began to feel like Edward Norton's Narrator…

The Unattainable

November is probably my favorite month. I adore autumn. And Thanksgiving. Late this afternoon, as I was leaving work, the sun was starting its early descent and there was a distinct, crisp bite to the air as storm clouds rolled across the sky. I breathed in deeply and felt invigorated, like in that brief second, I believed that anything was possible.

Sometimes, I feel stuck. I start things, and for whatever reason, I don't finish them. Maybe it's just part of my quirky personality. I lose interest. Or simply move on. Some things, however, feel unfinished. I think about these things as if they were completely unattainable. But, you know what? They're not.

Tonight I drove by the plaza and the sight of the Christmas tree surprised me. It reminded me that seasons eventually change. Abruptly, even. The days eventually get shorter. In a few weeks I will turn 41. A new year. A fresh start of sorts. And I want to make the most of it because these years are going by at breakneck sp…

The Unexpected

It was supposed to be a quick check-in with my doctor. My foot was bothering me. My ankle would swell and all of my walking I had done in Washington seemed to have exasperated the issue. My doctor told me my arch had fallen. She instructed me to stop wearing flats and get some inserts. Easy enough. As I was checking out, she reminded me that since I was 40, I should stop in for my first mammogram.

I had already been gone longer than I had wanted. After all, school was gearing back up and I had so much to do. I didn't want to take any more time. I don't know why, but I decided to go anyway.

It was very routine. The "squeeze" didn't hurt as much as I had anticipated. As I wrapped the open-in-the-front gown around me, the technician said I'd get the all-clear postcard in the mail.

I did not receive that postcard, but a call instead. They suspected something and asked that I come back in nine days to have the images redone. I tried not to think too much about it,…

Of Fear...

Tonight is the fifth night out of my normalcy. My routines. My surroundings, which are comfortable and customary. Tonight, I sit with a cup of hot tea as the cool, Washington breeze blows sympathetically and my curly hair dries in the night air.

I should be tired, but I am not. I just spent the last 36 hours away. Camping and exploring towns and trails and asking questions about the area as quaint towns popped up as the miles wore on.

It was wonderful. Everything except for 2 AM. You see, at 2 AM I was awake. Too much coffee too late in the evening necessitated a trip to the camp bathrooms which were about 100 feet away. They were easy to spot from our tent trailer but the grounds were full of obstacles. Logs. Rocks. Shrubbery. And the possibility of God-knows-what? Bears? Creepers lurking in the dark?

I talked myself into being brave and slipped my flip-flops on over my socks and prepared to venture out. The flashlight that was left by the door wouldn't turn on, so I flipped on t…

Untitled

I feel incredibly vulnerable today. I abhor these days. These days of forced sentiments. These days that mark loss.

Eight years ago, my grandfather, the one who stepped in when my own father split before I was even one, passed away due to complications from a hip replacement.

I received the call in the middle of the night. A call that would jolt me from my sleep. He had taken a turn for the worse. There was blood. They didn't know the source. I hung up and called my mother and brother. Instead of leaving for the hospital, I waited for them. It took them about 25 minutes to get to me and the hospital was another 20 minutes away. I got a second call - the call - as we were around the corner from the hospital saying he was gone.

Around the corner. Had I gone alone, I would have made it to him.

I regret waiting. I regret that he died alone.

I should have left immediately.

Last night I slept fitfully as dreams interfered with rest. Accusatory voices echoed in my head: "You were to…

The In-between

I was going to be brave. I had set my alarm. Picked out an outfit. But I didn't sleep well. I turned off my alarm. I stayed in bed.

I appreciate that my bedroom is at the back of the house. A small dirt area and an old wood fence separate it from a two-story apartment building. My room is relatively dark the hours after the sun blazes into the heights.

This morning, a subdued antique gold color gently bathed through the window and stretched onto the wall. For some reason, it comforted me. I hadn't realized I needed to be comforted.

It's Easter morning. It doesn't feel like Easter. I am not sure what Easter is supposed to feel like these days.

Maybe I am a hopeless nostaglic and I have a tendency to remember what it used to be like back in the day. Not sure which day, just not today.

Even though it is Resurrection Sunday, I still feel very much as if I am stuck in Saturday. The in-between day. The everything-isn't-quite-right day because they didn't know what wa…