Still Good


photo (2)Today, I had the opportunity to teach my two-and-a-half-year-old daughter an important lesson. Today, her Stuffy broke. For those of you not in the know, Stuffy is a blue dragon stuffed animal from the Disney Junior show “Doc McStuffins”. He is known for being a “big, brave dragon”. My daughter has little plastic figurines of six of the main characters of the television show and, today, her figurine of Stuffy broke. He lost a wing. Now, I had attempted to fix Stuffy’s wing earlier in the day but my fix-it job didn’t take and the injured wing is now nowhere to be found. Elizabeth was absolutely distraught upon the discovery during an afternoon walk; she burst into tears and sobbed the entire way home. When we arrived back at our house, she refused to allow me to comfort her so, instead, what I did was take all of the figurines out of her little dolly stroller and set them up on the floor. Stuffy was in the middle with his friends all surrounding him. Then I said this to Elizabeth:

“Stuffy’s wing is broken, and I know that you are upset. But Stuffy is still a good toy. He is still lots of fun. He is still a big, brave dragon. He can still ROAR! And, most of all, his friends still love him. Stuffy is still Stuffy, even though his wing is broken. He is still a pretty great toy.”

I know that she is two and a half and that what I said has not sunk in all the way, but I tried to make my point by having all the toys close in around Stuffy and give him “cuddles”. Elizabeth seemed to calm and to be paying attention so I repeated:

“His friends still love him and he is still Stuffy, no matter what he looks like.”

Our outward appearance is not an indication of our inward hearts or the strength of our spirits, nor does it indicate a rating on our humanity. That is a lesson I want my daughter to learn that will be deep and abiding throughout her life. No matter the color of our skin, our abilities or disabilities, or our bodies or conditions, we are all still human beings. We are still pretty great; it doesn’t make us any less.

Just like Stuffy is still a good toy even with a broken wing, we can still be good (even great) people with all the differences and eccentricities inherent with being human. Yeah, still good (great, even).

Amazing the Change


Author’s Note: I posted the beginnings of this earlier on Facebook but decided to expand upon it here.

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Yesterday, I called going to Planet Fitness “my zen”. Those who have known me a long time know that this is a hugely marked change in my life. I HATED conventional exercise and the idea of going to the gym seemed like an exercise in desperation. When I started belly dancing, I started conditioning/drilling movements as well as using planks, yoga, and other toning exercises to improve my technique and to build up strength and stamina. That, I actually enjoyed and still use some of the exercises. And, yes, I still tiny-shimmy while I am waiting in line or the like.

Now for the honest nitty-gritty. I am five foot one. Before I had Elizabeth, I weighed 120 lbs. and was a 34 D. I rose up to 150 and a 36 D by the end of my pregnancy (the day I saw that on the scale, I definitely yelled out “WHAT?!” in the doctor’s office) but lost the weight rather quickly after I had my darling girl, dipping down to 124 lbs. again. When Elizabeth was still young and able to be carted about in her buggy with no complaint, she and I had a beautiful schedule. She would get up around six or seven in the morning, we’d have breakfast, get dressed, read and play a bit, and then be out of the house by nine-thirty, off for our walk around our little town. Those days, I would speed walk at least a mile, if not more, pushing her in her buggy, my little girl giggling her encouragement as I breathlessly reminded myself to keep pushing. By the time we would wend our way home after a mile walk, stopping at the post office, sometimes the bank, and me fetching myself a strawberry smoothie from the coffee shop, Elizabeth would be ready for her morning nap. I would get her down to sleep, finish whatever cardio and conditioning I had planned for my workout, and then take a delicious shower, undisturbed and all to myself. But, of course, children grow and their routines change. So do their mothers’, and, even though we still walked and whatnot, my weight slowly began to tick up again.

By the end of December 2014, I was 139 lbs. and some high ounces and I decided that I had had enough of not feeling good about myself and, for once made myself some New Years’ goals. As such, I got myself to the Planet Fitness about twenty minutes’ drive from my home. My trips there had been sporadic at best up until that point. Now, I determined that it would be a regular occurrence, at least twice a week. And so it is. With a good friend running by my side, I have never lacked for challenge or encouragement. For the first few months, all I had the courage to try was the elliptical. It was hard at first, really hard. I won’t lie about that. I don’t like running. I was a sprinter, inherited it from my father. Long-distance running just made me shudder and groan. So getting on the elliptical for half an hour sounded like an impossible goal. But, eventually, I found myself developing more endurance, breaking my personal performance records, and actually starting to ENJOY running. It is something that has become just for me, something that is building my strength and my health, and where I can set goals and push myself more and more. Recently, I branched out into the weight machines as well and found that I really, really like strength training on them. I also walk with my little family, work out at home, and play outside with my toddler daughter. My legs are currently mostly muscle now from running, and I love feeling the ache of muscles pushed to greater strength. It is an absolutely stupendous thing to find yourself stronger and being able to add weight to the machine or resistance levels to the elliptical. To walk into the gym feeling like a warrior and walk out feeling like a conqueror. 

Since December, I have gone from 139 lbs. down to 132 and then, as I have built muscle, I have ticked back up to 135 (my weigh-in this very morning).  No, I’m not as light or thin as I was before my pregnancy. Yes, I have gone up a dress size since then. Yes, I’m still a 36 D. BUT. I know that I am stronger and healthier than I was, and my body craves movement and exercise more now than before. I am also eating better/making better food choices while still treating myself at times. I post my fitness and exercise on Facebook as well as in a journal as a means of tracking and keeping myself accountable, and I am always grateful for the encouragement that my friends and family give.

So, almost seven months down the road, I can honestly say now that I LOVE my time at the gym. It’s time just for me, doing something that will make my life better and, therefore, make me more able to hopefully better the lives of my loved ones.

It’s hard. It’s a struggle sometimes. It’s a daily series of conscious decisions. Sometimes I do really well, sometimes I’m just middling, and sometimes I fail. But I always get up to try again. I’m doing it and so can you, without a doubt! Keep running, keep lifting, keep dancing, keep breathing, keep doing. Keep on!

When Connections Fray


A friend of mine said something interesting to me back in March. She said, “[It m]akes me wonder what the next big bonding experience will be,” in reference to mutual friendships and how they have progressed. I didn’t notice it at the time, but that sentence came to mind recently right before I fell asleep and I realized that there is something in it that felt remarkably free. It was as if she had unveiled this divine secret to me that I just couldn’t grasp or understand until now. The secret?

Not all connections last.

It feels like she acknowledged it, accepted it (though the idea is hard and clearly does cause her pain), and was preparing herself to move on, happy to remember the good times and work through and file away the bad. It also felt like she was looking forward to new connections and friendships on down the road, the “next big bonding experience”, and she had just shared this secret of freedom with me. But it’s not exactly a secret, is it? It’s a truth.

Not all connections last.

I have had connections break and friendships end before, but that took a pretty deep hurt or traumatic catalyst to happen. One such catalyst was being thrown under the bus of someone else’s lies accusing me sexually harassing him and trying to steal him away from his wife. Not only being accused but those rumors — completely untrue, by the way — being spread around to people I knew and even those I didn’t know. That connection was done. Friendship over. No turning back, no second glances and no regrets. That is not something a connection can come back from, at least not for me.

In general, though, I am a personality type that works to preserve my connections, especially those that have been formative to who I consider myself to be as a woman and a person. So a truth like the one above can be hard for me to swallow at times. Very hard. Letting go can be quite painful and it feels suspiciously like giving up to me, but it doesn’t make the truth any less the truth.

Not all connections last. Not all friendships/relationships remain close-knit or even remain, period.

I still communicate with my friends from high school but have only really remained close with one. I still communicate with very dear friends from college but have also lost touch with more than I care to admit over the past eleven years. I still have some close friends from nine or ten years ago, but some of those connections have ended, others rather abruptly. Others I still hold near and dear to my heart, are still thriving with synapses firing in both directions, and those are lovely and life-giving.

But not all connections last. And sometimes that is incredibly difficult for us as interconnected, interdependent human beings to accept. But we do need to accept it. To refuse to do so will rob us of the joy that we can take in the connections that still remain, as well as rob us of the ability to grow and mature and continue to build ourselves up with new connections and new, deep bonds that resonate with this particular season in our lives.

Now, please, do not mistake me. I am not saying that we should just give up on the old bonds and connections that helped us along this road of life. No, no, no. If there is still life there, nurture it and be intentional about preserving those connections and friendships. Life is busy, yes, but make time. At the same time, though, you know as well as I do that sometimes connections fail, bonds unravel (swiftly or slowly), and friendships can fade for any number of reasons (and most not malicious). If that happens, if you have tried to stem this flow and it continues, it is all right to step back and let it go if you feel that it’s necessary and for the best. Don’t be afraid, however much you might feel so. Believe me, this message is just as much for me as it is for you.

Not all connections last. And that is all right.

Some people find it easy to end connections, move on, and find new ones. For some, it is not so easy and can be incredibly painful. I am one of the latter; I only have a handful of people at a time whom I would call “close friends”, with whom I am comfortable being wholly myself, and from whom I fear nothing. However, none of this makes anyone else’s experience any less valid or the truth of this any less…well, true. Not all connections or friendships last. Life flows and carries us with it, no matter how hard we tend to dig in our heels.

There is a goal in all of this change, however. Lynn Cowell wrote a thought so well that it has stuck with me continuously: “Every day we are becoming something different. The question is, Who are we becoming? During the planting, watering and weeding of change, if we will be diligent and faithful during each season, we’ll see beauty grow in our lives.”

Each season of our life (even those of change) has different needs and those that enter our lives during those seasons can help us grow in specific ways. This article is not a call to be cruel. It is not a rallying cry to take a pruning shears to your life. Rather, it is a permission slip to acknowledge that, sometimes, it is okay to let go, to let things and people go. It might not be easy and we may not like it. Actually, it might be difficult and quite painful. However, we can still “allow the pressure of transition to transform [us] (Cowell)” and grow us into better, more mature, and stronger people. Likewise, connections that remain can still bring us joy and growth as well, as long as we are willing to to work on them to keep them alive.

Not all connections last, not all friendships are immortal. And that is okay. We can remember the good, process and file away the bad, and move on, acknowledging the part those connections played in helping us become who we are.

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In a world so quick to judge, just #BeReal


This was very encouraging to me today. One of my deepest desires and wishes is that we can all – men and women – find ourselves beautiful just as we are. There’s nothing wrong with working to be healthy and strong but we are still a thing of beauty regardless. ^_^

Lil's avatarThe SisterWives

This is a first for SisterWives – not only are we on trend, but thanks to Hasty, we ARE the trend – yesterday, in response and outrage at the #DontJudgeMe tag (where people post ‘before and after’ pics of themselves in an Ugly Duckling transformation to show their (now) levels of beauty and acceptability), this amazing lady created a new hashtag, and it’s one we should ALL use – #BeReal.

Hasty BeReal SW

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Spotlight: Hannah Brencher, TED Talk: “Love Letters to Strangers”


As a fellow epistophile and lover of letters, I admire Hannah Brencher a great deal and have participated in her love letter writing initiative several times. It’s a wonderful act of love for someone you may not even know but needs your love and encouragement nonetheless, and it might even been an uplift for you own heart and soul.

I hope you will have a listen to her TED Talk and be encouraged/inspired by it.

Musing in a Bubble


The other day, Strangling My Muse posted a blog entitled “Who Is Your Muse?” and in it was a writing exercise called “My muse is…” and I really enjoyed it. Ideally, you would answer this question 15-20 times, ending the sentence with the first thing that pops into your head, no matter how silly or off the wall.

So I gave it a try. Naturally, with my toddler in the living room with me, I only got it done seven times but I still like them.

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My muse is bubbles pouring by the hundred from a bubble-maker. Bubbles I wish I could gather up into a basket like opalescent treasure so I could keep them and the magic that each bubble holds.

My muse is the smell of chocolate chip cookies and the peace of moment in each bite. The stress before or even the guilt afterward don’t matter. Just the sweet piece of happy bound up with each bite.

My muse is the rarest of things in this day and age: a unexpected phone call. That and the happiness that spreads throughout my core for hours after the call has ended. How is it that someone’s voice is the last thing we expect to hear and yet it can make us so happy?

My muse is watching my daughter act out her favorite movie and knowing that she will never really be alone with these beloved characters by her side.

My muse is a warmth that fits perfectly with my own, connecting body, mind, and heart like perfectly sculpted puzzle pieces.

My muse is the rumble of thunder, the power that waits in the distance. Once upon a time, it was frightful but now it is soul-soothing.

My muse is the early morning quiet, the Christmas Day anticipation that we often miss in the rush of our feet hitting the floor and the PLAY button being pushed on the day.

Fulfilling the Law


These are notes from my husband’s sermon today. I am thankful for and adore this man and his heart for God and others. ❤

Melissa Snyder's avatarWest River Friends Meeting

Scriptures: Romans 12:9-21, 13:1-14

With all that has happened in our society in the past week, I believe there is something important that we as Christians, and as people, need to remember. Love is of God and is therefore holy. Above all things, we are called to love – love God and love others. In that vein, there are several key things that I think we need to keep in mind in reference to God’s law.

1.) You cannot legislate love. “Against such things [love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,  gentleness, self-control] there is no law (Galatians 5:23b).”

2.) “Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law (Romans 13:10).” The greatest commandment that we are given, aside from loving God, is to love and care for each other as we love ourselves.

3.) Marriage between others is not my (our) business or…

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Waiting


The rain tapped on the pane of the window with beseeching fingertips as she watched the droplet bounce, drum, and roll from the leaves of the red oak in her front yard. If you had asked her how long she had been sitting there, she wouldn’t have been able to tell you. If you had asked her how long it had been raining, she had wouldn’t have been able to tell you that either. All she would have told you was that she was waiting.

“Waiting.”

She was always waiting. She would always wait. Wait in beauty. Wait in silence.

She did make quite a lovely loading screen.

  

Poetry: Words Alive and Thriving 


This morning, a friend sent me Brandon Griggs’ CNN article “Does Poetry Matter” and I was struck by it. In my mind, I agree with the opinion that poetry is far from dead; rather, it’s just being experienced differently in this ago of social media and ultimate connectivity. I have a dear friend who shares poetry with me frequently when she thinks I might need a pick-me-up or that remind her of me, some of which I’ve never read and that’s a delight. 

My husband is an avid lover of poetry and a much better poet than I in practice. The first time we spent significant time together, just him and me, he showed me some of his poems, which I know was intensely personal for him, I know. And I will forever appreciate the gesture and love him all the more for his sharing of his literary passion with me. 

My daughter hears poetry every day, in the storybooks that I read to her and the whimsical children’s shows she watches. It’s helping her learn words and cadence and she loves it. 

Poetry isn’t dead. No, no. We just need to acknowledge it in its evolved state as well as in its classic form. Poetry is a way of viewing the world with heart and words, just like we see with our eyes and experience with our souls. 

  

Years on a Calendar. Marks on a Page


According to WordPress, I opened this blog five years ago today. It really doesn’t feel like I have been around here that long but I am thoroughly enjoying the ever-evolving process of being a writer becoming.

Since I opened this blog five years ago, I have participated in two National Blog Posting Months (NaBloPoMos), been a contributor for The Well Written Woman, and have been published in Forgotten Leaves: Essays from a Smial.

It’s been an awesome ride so far and I am looking forward to so much more. ^_^