Once Upon a Time

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Author’s Note: This is a piece that wrote for a roleplay character who had the ability to create illusions. Her entire concept was built the ideas of dreams and stories and hemmed in by the imagery of Alice in Wonderland.

There was once a little girl who loved stories, especially Alice In Wonderland. One night, as she was reading, the Cheshire Cat leapt from the book and spun the world around the little girl, drawing her into a rabbit hole, down long and deep. The little girl had tea with a Hatter, scared the DoorMouse, refereed a fight between a Lion and a Unicorn and shared the prize amongst them. She cowed the Red Queen and out-skilled the White. She enraptured the White Knight and intrigued the Black. She danced on rooftops and soared over lakes. She tamed the Jabberwocky and made stars out of the Bandersnatch. The Cat was always there, guiding, teasing, taunting. He became her best friend and confidant, even when she found that she, too, could spin the world and make it her own. She grew stronger and shared her world as two kittens eventually joined them in their adventures and the girl became their guide in turn.

The Cheshire Girl

In Empty Red

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Not a great deal on deck today. It’s been a rainy, gloomy, blah sort of day. I was more active this evening than throughout the whole of the day. But, now, my daughter is abed, I am contemplating a cup of something before my own bedtime, and then, hopefully, some deep, good sleep.

Perhaps tomorrow, my dears. Perhaps tomorrow.

Sacred Spaces: My Backyard

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For a long while, I have had a blank document sitting in my Microsoft Word and it is entitled “Sacred Spaces”. I had an idea of what I wanted to write in it but could never quite find the words to express it. Also, what specific spaces would I write about? Then, this morning, it came to me. Well, the beginning did.

After our walk this morning, I took my daughter out to our backyard to play. I sat on the porch swing that is hung on our swing set frame beneath a large oak and made myself stay put while she ran to and fro between the swing set/slide and her playhouse just beyond our mulberry tree. This is one of my sacred spaces: my morning backyard. I love my backyard in the mornings. Overspread with deliciously cool shade,Sacred spaces - backyard only dappled by the sun, and a cool eastern breeze at my back. Heavenly! Now, sometimes, my backyard isn’t quite so pleasant. If it has been frequently rainy or muggy, the bugs are often out in force, which means nothing good for me. But, on an average morning, this is its norm. I spent our time in the backyard swaying placidly in the big swing, enjoying the breeze on my back and shoulders, my reverie only broken by Elizabeth’s request for me to help her into her swing and then swing in the “big girl” swing beside her. Later, I held her on my lap while she drank some water and, together, we listened in silence to the world. We heard the leaves rustling with the breeze, the birds chirping in branches nearby, the deep barking of dogs down the street, and the distant rumble of an oncoming train.

This is one of the places where my daughter learns about the world around her. It is where she is learning to play and climb and imagine. It is where she pulls bark off the oak to look at it more closely. It is where she strips the leaves off a fallen branch to make a sword. It is where she picks grass blades in order to “cook food” in her playhouse. It is where she picks a handful of “flowers” (weeds) and tosses them into the air with a joyful abandon. This is where she worships in her own toddler way.

This sacred space is where I am learning, too. I am learning to breathe, to inhale the quiet that can be found in the foreground of a moment and let the rest fade into the background. I am learning to release my fear and worry and to trust my child’s courage. I am learning to sit in silence and just be, to feel the heartbeat of the world and to find my soul reaching out to it. This is where I am remembering that God will be Who He will be. Remembering that God will be just what I need as I go through life. I have sat in this backyard time and again, sometimes in tears, sometimes in frustration, sometimes in so much pain that I can barely breathe. I have shared this pain with others and borne it alone. Other times, I have sat in this place and shared laughs and stories with family and friends, the fire casting golden glows over our faces or the moon its blue moonlight over our forms. Three years ago, I sat in the quiet around dying embers and marveled in awe at the truth that my husband and I would soon be parents. I have found my heart bursting with joy for the beauty and peace that can be found in so small and simple a place as I call home.

This is my sacred space. This is my holy ground.

Well, one of them anyway. As I said, this is the beginning.

 

Memories Trapped in Chestnut

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There was a memory trapped somewhere in her hair, a memory she desperately wished she could remember. She knew that it was one she had cherished and replayed with all fondness. Its scent was tangled there in her chestnut tresses, and she caught it when she would tilt her head just so or when the wind would throw her hair about her head like a halo. What was it? A person? A place? Perhaps just a moment in time? Whatever it was, it lingered there, teasing her affectionately and she found herself smiling at every little moment. And that, in itself, was precious.

Trusting My God-Gut

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Some of you knew about this and some of you didn’t. Two weeks ago, I applied for a position at a local middle school. This was an act that required much prayer, faith, and courage on my part because I didn’t particularly enjoy my previous time in this corporation several years ago. But I felt that I needed to woman up and apply, so I did. They called me for an interview a week later. Amidst lots of prayers and encouragement from friends and family, I interviewed for the position (grades 6-8, tier 3 English/Language Arts intervention) this past Friday, and the principal called back the same day saying that she had called my references (thank you to all those wonderful people, by the by) and wanted to recommend me to the superintendent for the position. I asked for the weekend to be able to speak with my husband about it and if I could give her a call Monday morning. So we took our weekend together and discussed it as we walked about GenCon and prayed about it together. I spent my quiet time/time alone praying and listening with my heart for God’s guidance. Sometimes that guidance comes as a gentle heart nudge, a thumb in my back, an inability to settle with peace on a particular decision, or just a gut feeling that I know I need to go with. Based on our talks, prayers, and that undeniable, unexplainable gut feeling that we have both experienced time and again, Ben and I both agreed that we felt a leading that I should be home with Elizabeth this last year before she heads off to preschool.

No, we will not have a lot of extra money this year as a result, but we have always determined that our home will be built on love first and foremost. Standard of living and quality of life are two different things (I even looked up the definitions this morning to be certain before I said that) and we are concentrating on the latter. We may not have a lot of extra money, will have to be frugal and wise with what we do have, and certain things will have to wait a bit longer, but we have a roof over our heads, food on our table, cars that work, and I will be able to give Elizabeth my love and presence for another year as she and I learn from each other and prepare for her to head off into the world all too quickly.

All that being said, I just got off the phone with the principal at the middle school, a former colleague of mine, and told her that I am so thankful to have been able to interview with them and for her faith in me in wanting to recommend me. I do feel led, however, to be home with Elizabeth this year but, if she has any positions open up in a year or so, that I would definitely appreciate her consideration again.

We are trusting God for continued guidance and leading and that He will help us to have a wonderful year together. We are praying for strength and wisdom as Ben teaches and preaches, giving of his time and energy unendingly to and for others and us. It is also my prayer and hope that, at the end of this year, Elizabeth and I will both be ready to go out into the world and face it head-on with all the fierce, fearless courage of roaring lambs.

Thank you all for your prayers, advice, and love. They mean more to me than I can ever say. And thank you for reading.

The Tiredness of Happy

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GenCon 2015 is over and I am now home, preparing to re-enter life as normal.

But last night! Oh, last night! I was “on” last night and determined to have as much fun as possible. I was bubbly, chatty, laughing, dancing, and just general energetic, especially after playing a fairly serious and controlled character in Werewolf for several hours. When we got back to our hotel in the wee hours of the morning, I found myself heaving a heavy sigh (not sad, just heavy) as we climbed into bed, saying to my husband, “No wonder I was always so tired after game.”

He nodded. “It takes a lot of energy to be ‘on’ for a long period of time.”

“Yeah. Being happy makes you tired.”

What I mean by this is: allowing yourself to be happy and energetic can really take it out of you. We, as human beings, are often trained to temper our energy, our happiness, and our joy. We are taught, and we tell others, to “calm down”, “rein it in”, etc. So much so that, when we do allow ourselves to expend that happy energy, we can sometimes be a bit out of practice and quite winded afterward. As I think about last night, watching a friend pelt around the LARP room after a tennis ball that was the absolute center of his character’s happiness only to comment, “I need to sit down, I’m tired”, I really do think it’s true. It takes energy to be happy because, I believe, when we expend the energy to be happy, we are not only spending that energy ourselves. We are giving and gifting that energy to other people. We are sharing our smiles, our laughter, our happiness, our energy with them.

I have been approaching happiness lately as something that is a choice rather than merely a feeling. I can choose to be content with my lot in life while still keeping my dreams. I can choose to let the small things roll off and not make anthills into mountains. I can choose to find the beauty in the ordinary. I can choose to share as much encouragement and edification with the world as I possibly can. I am choosing to share as much positivity, light, and love with the world as I possibly can.

But, yes, the active expulsion of the energy that it takes to be happy can leave us tired but ultimately satisfied. I had several goals for myself this weekend, the main of which was to allow myself to be happy, bold, and have fun. I am glad to say that I accomplished that goal, and I hope that I gave some of that energy to other people. I pulled people along in my happy (and was pulled along in my turn) to dance, laugh, and be silly. Today, my legs ache, but I walked over nine or ten miles over the past two and a half days and saw lots of friends and interesting strangers, which is awesome! This morning, I still had a slight headache from the music last night, but I got to do the cha-cha slide with some awesome folks, and getting up early meant that I got to spend some nice pre-departure time with others. My muscles ache from laughing and running and dancing, but I was able to share those full belly laughs, those joyous runs down the hall, and dancing just because it felt good to move. And that was definitely worth going to bed tired. It will always be worth going to bed tired.

Geeking Out

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For August, I am doing a BloPoMo (Blog Posting Month) with a friend of mine so here we are. ^_^ In other news, I walked over eleven thousand steps yesterday! I cannot tell you the last time that happened. And there is a reason for that. I am currently in attendance at one of the great geek festivals ever: GenCon! I have been coming to this gaming/fandom convention for the past…nine years. Yep. ever since my husband and I got married, we have been coming to GenCon together and it’s usually our last hurrah of summer together.

In case you missed it, I am a gamer. I play tabletop and larp (live action role play) games. I also

Clay and Aisha, about to have a “business discussion”.

cosplay. ^_^ Today, I will be cosplaying “Aisha” from The Losers. I also have all the necessary pieces to throw together a banging new Harley Quinn costume, but we shall see if I feel the need to switch it up. Aisha’s outfit is comfortable, though, I admit, not hugely recognizable, unless, you know, you’re really into Zoe Saldana and her characters (which I am). Yes, I know it’s a comic. No, I haven’t read it. Now shush! I do realize that I forgot to get stuff to do her tattoos on my left arm and right shoulder (especially the left arm), which would have made it probably more recognizable. I could always pop into Hot Topic and grab some make-up there to do it, I suppose. My outfit will be a close approximation, not exact, but you know what? I will still be volatile.

In other good news, yesterday – after we packed the toddler off with the grandparents and got to the convention – I got to spend an entire afternoon/evening with my husband. ALONE. Just us. Again, can’t tell you how long it’s been since that happened. Our plans with friends fell through (which is totally fine) so we got to get dinner and such by ourselves and it was lots of fun, just the two of us. We also got into character for the Werewolf: The Apocalypse game that we will be playing tonight and did some background stuff for our characters – his a medical examiner and mine a defense attorney. I even bought a new dress for the occasion. Squee!

Yes, I’m getting my geek all over the place but it’s my blog so I’m allowed. Today will be full of friends and fun, I am hoping. I need a rock-my-face-off weekend and, so far, it’s been pretty good.

Zoe Saldana as Aisha from “The Losers”

Finding Refuge in the Deluge

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“Then the Lord will create over all of Mount Zion and over those who assemble there a cloud of smoke by day and a glow of flaming fire by night; over everything the glory[a] will be a canopy.  It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.”  Isaiah 4:5-6 (NIV)

The other morning, I took my daughter out into our backyard after pleas of “House? Please, house?” I had a plan, too. I was going to plant my chair underneath our mulberry tree and, from there, I would have a good view of her whether she was playing in her playhouse or climbing up the ladder to go down her slide. While I sat in this shady refuge, I was going to continue reading and journaling and had plans to write a short devotional on the refuge of peaceful spaces. It was going to be a lovely time outside.

Unfortunately, the insects had other ideas. It has been hot and muggy and raining off and on the past few days, and the dew was still on the grass when we went out so the bugs were out in force.  My backyard, which is usually a beautifully cool refuge in the morning hours, had turned into a torture zone for me. I am notorious for being bitten by insects. So much so that there are times that I just about flat-out refuse to leave the house. If there are bugs about, I will get bitten, buzzed, and, really, just all-out bugged.

How like life, isn’t it? We sit down and determine that this will be our sacred time, our time with God, when we absorb His Word and listen for that still, sweet voice. This will be our time to center ourselves in the midst of everything, to find silence and calm and peace. And then the thoughts creep in. Or, rather, they pop in, buzzing about our mind while we are trying to be still. Grocery lists, dinner ingredients, errands that need to be run, appointments needing to be kept. They buzz and bite at our concentration, threatening to draw our minds away from God, away from quiet.

Sometimes these thoughts are like annoying insects, interrupting us. Other times, it can be our emotions that interrupt, suddenly washing over us like a sudden storm. I can personally attest to this. Thoughts lead to emotions and those emotions lead to more thoughts and, before I know it, I am lost in the storm. I have no idea what I was thinking or praying about in the first place, or even what I was reading or journaling. Something that I tend to forget, however, is that, even in that deluge, God can still be my refuge. Our refuge. We can still call out to Him, call out His name, and He will meet us in that place. That place of trying and failing, that place of frustration or overwhelm. He will meet us there.

As it says in our key verse, “It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain.” The “it” refers to the presence of God. It is there to cut through it all and draw us back. Back to a place of quiet, a place of reflection, a place where we meet God, where He can speak to us, and where we can hear Him with our whole heart.

So, while my backyard might not have been the shelter and refuge I had hoped for of a morning, it served as a great reminder of the God Who is, no matter what.

Refuge

Still Good

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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

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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!