What Path Are You On?

What Path Are You On?

The better part of my evening was spent window shopping online. I was too lazy to get up and get my credit card to part with my money. So the outcome was hours of thinking through my list of I wants (which is a little bit longer than it was before 5pm yesterday).

I know it's the moral thing to do and fight the holiday consumerism that plagues Western culture but I like knowing what I want.

In my wannabe-blissful-with-not-knowing what I want in life, I'm able to define a few material things that make me smile. But still, I envy the 20-something that knows what she wants in life and is on a path to get it. Although, to be honest I'm probably on a path to somewhere. I just don't know if it's the right path. Is that where faith comes in?

Are you on a path to somewhere? Is it the one you want to be on? How do you know?

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There's No Crying in Baseball

There's No Crying in Baseball

Although this blog doesn't prove it (based on this and previous posts) I am not a crier. I do not cry. But today, and the day before, and the day before I cried. It turns out that running on empty for too long is not good for holding back 'what's-wrong-with-me-mini-breakdowns' in the ladies restroom (or with friends, for that matter).

There is no crying in baseball. -Tom Hanks, A League of Their Own

People ask me how I'm doing and I'm tired of answering 'great' because the truth is, I'm not great. I'm crumbling. Like big chunks of 'watch for falling rock' on the side of a mountain, pieces of me are crashing to the ground.

When a person visits a doctor she looks at the symptoms and gives advice for 'fixing' what's wrong. So I started looking at my symptoms:

• Symptom 1. My ability to hear and take criticism is low. I have left no time for improving my output. I'm barely fitting in my necessary responsibilities and hoping no one challenges me along the way because I have left no margin for that.

• Symptom 2. I cry. When I'm low, I cry. Even though I despise my tears, they rain down my cheeks as if to warn me that my emotional health is running in empty. Time to recharge.

• Symptom 3. I focus on surface content. This is really the first sign that I begin to notice when things are not right. I don't want to be around others and I want to just be... quiet. Still. I don't take the energy or time to really invest in relationships.

Recommended Medicine: Slowing my schedule, running, and laughing. Tonight is a bag of popcorn, Iron Man 2, and Brandon.

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Rhythm o' Lazy

Rhythm o' Lazy

It's 11 a.m. and I haven't done much besides check the weather, which was a redundant thing to do since I could already hear the thunder and see the rain. The report coming from the automated computer voice with a slight English accent was quite simply, "rain today." Good to know.

Now off to my next challenge: motivation. I can feel the guilt cover me when I let laziness run longer than my self policed time allotment with it. I know it, can name it, but not really that interested in fixing it. Is it really okay to relax and not cover my neatly written to-do list with little check marks?

Today, I'm looking for my rhythm o' lazy where I can be okay with being me.

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Roses In Roses Out

Roses In Roses Out

As part of my graduate studies for professional counseling each student was required to attend a number of group counseling sessions. After finding an Al-Anon group that fit into my schedule, I couldn't think of an excuse that would leave me guilt free so integrity talked me into my first Al-Anon group.

I found a lot of people who had been broken by life and were making it through one day at a time. But I was in church work (still am- sort of) and was familiar with doing life with broken people (self included).

Here's the thing that struck me- on my first session, a woman who resembled an older worn out version of Marisa Tomei captivated the room. As she shared about her husband's journey towards sobriety it was clear that he had found another woman and was ready to leave the marriage. Her words came from an empty place and I wondered how much longer her waterproof mascara would hold up.

When she started talking about anger, her gaze went to the floor and she described a bad root growing in her. It's a little melodramatic, I know, but I think we've all been there. When the anger takes hold deep in your gut and you know it shouldn't be there but still it grips you and all of the fruit that you give out is rotten.

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle." Philo of Alexandria

It's a pretty simple concept: Roses in, roses out. Rotten in, rotten out. I don't think I need to reflect on this tonight but I do think each of us needs to take care of the inside self enough that we reflect life and vitality to the world, and more importantly, to each other.

Love,
Hanna

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The Art of Growing

The Art of Growing

In my childhood I was a real life version of the awkward girl in teen movies complete with glasses (my eyes were not the same prescription, so one eye was more magnified than the other regardless of how much I squinted), clothes from my great aunt who wore flamingo pink lipstick and loved garage sales, and...wait for it... head gear for my braces. I collected rocks in the alley behind our house, which I think were just chunks of asphalt and dull pieces of broken glass. I freed my brothers pet turtle so I could live out “saving the planet” like the back of my Hardrock Café t-shirt commanded. My go-to food was grits with American cheese and I was afraid of ghosts.

Looking at my life through a philosophical lens, one might say I was a flower waiting to bloom. I think I was just growing into me. I’m still awkward but I have found that confidence can do a lot to mask nerdy blemishes.

Although my childhood was spent blossoming and discovering who I was, only one word comes to mind for my 20s: pruning. Pruning, like the shriveled up dried plum that I would pack for lunches (not making that up).

John 15:2 (The Message)
He cuts off every branch of me that doesn’t bear grapes. And every branch that is grape-bearing he prunes back so it will bear even more.

So how is it that I actually allow for pruning to take place? How does a person let their guard down enough to ‘let go, and let God’?

It takes a different discipline to bloom and grow than to step back and prune. I’m not even sure what should be pruned right now but I can’t deny the need for it. At the end of the day, I know I’m not the person I’m going to become, yet.

Happy trimming.

Photo courtesy of Wes Legg

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The Chair Waits

The Chair Waits

I didn’t know a person could actually have a true breakdown in her 20s. I thought you would have kids and really go through being an adult before you could actually get to the point of becoming breakdown worthy. And even then, I knew I was immune to the breakdown I was destined to. Destiny won- or God.

When I read the excerpt below, it hurt, just like the paper towel I was using to wipe the tears flooding my cheeks. (Bounty really is the quicker picker upper.)

From Soul Care:

The chair awaits you at all times.

Please, for your own sake, sit down.

Breathe deeply.

And let God love you.

The fight to health is much more difficult when you’ve gone on covering up and never fixing. What I am most confused about is I didn’t realize I was just covering up. Do I really believe that sitting in the chair will make a difference for my soul?

My personified tears would say ‘yes’… my ego would nod ‘no’. Tonight the tears win.

Standard disclaimer: I am not a crier but lately I have been. Working on that.

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