4.29.2013

adventures in undergarments

This is maybe TMI, but it's been a long time since I've had undergarments that I could feel good about. I used to wear really cute things underneath my clothes, but then I worked a string of jobs that barely paid anything, and one of the things I let go of was the "silky bits." Fast forward several years, a 40lb weight gain, a pregnancy, and then a 40lb weight loss (in addition to the pregnancy weight), and the contents of the silky bits drawer were looking a little bit ... uninspiring. And you could read the lack of "inspiration" under everything I wore, though I barely noticed. Who has the time for that?

The weekend after I turned 30, I decided it was time to address this situation. Quite frankly, I was tired of all the cotton sportswear and the odd shape of my upper body. A trip to the outlet malls and a coupon to the Hanes store later, I had the situation all under control. It's amazing what a difference it makes! Having spent the past several months with a very limited wardrobe on account of everything being 2-4 sizes too big and 2-4 years too old, I feel like I have a new lease on life.

So let that be a lesson to all you ladies who haven't had a "fitting" in a while....do it! Now! And paint your toes while you're at it. You'll start seeing the world a little differently.

4.26.2013

lessons learned from a line a day

In January of last year, I started keeping a 5-year journal. Each date of the year gets a page with five entry slots. Over the course of the year, you write your little entry in the current year's section. Eventually, you're writing on the same pages year after year.

I'd wanted to start the journal when my son was born, to serve as a little daily record where I could note our lives without feeling the "pressure" of recording everything or having to do long journal entries. There's only room for a couple of sentences in each entry -- just enough to capture the essence of each day. Most days I mention Gabriel and something he did, but this journal has been the repository for a lot more than mama memories.

Sometimes, it's really neat to read about what was going on last year at this same time. Right now, though, it's a little tough. I'm reading through, and to an extent reliving, a lot of the marital anguish that marred the spring of 2012. My journal notes involve things like anger, fear, and confusion. We were "going to counseling" (a sham, the purpose of which I may never know). We were coexisting, barely peacefully. He was working (or "working") long hours every single day, and/or not speaking to me for days on end, inviting his new social cohort of single college girls to hang out with us and being mean to me the whole time. I ask a lot of painful questions in this journal -- why is he still pretending he's not leaving me? is he trying to torture me? is it worth my sanity to keep trying to save this marriage when he is so clearly planning a future without me?

Now, a year later, I can look around and know that everything will work out. I can tell that scared, exhausted woman with a new baby that there is grace for her, that her worst fears won't come true. I can even go for strings of full days without thinking about my ex or feeling the "scarlet D" burning on my forehead. But when I sit down each evening to write in my journal, I am taken right back to that miserable place, full of rage and hurt and fear. It's hard, so hard to walk myself through that experience again. Even if it's just a line a day.


4.24.2013

nouwen on solitude


Several times in the past few weeks, I've had the opportunity to reflect on this brief passage from Nouwen. (Remember how dreamy he is?) There were times, when I first started going to my new church, that my priest was a real friend to me in the sense that Nouwen describes. There have been other times when I've been able to offer this type of friendship to someone else, as well. I do think there's something special about sitting in silence with someone. It speaks to me of total acceptance.



Sharing Our Solitude

A friend is more than a therapist or a confessor, even though a friend can sometimes heal us and offer us God's forgiveness.

A friend is that other person with whom we can share our solitude, our silence, and our prayer.  A friend is that other person with whom we can look at a tree and say, "Isn't that beautiful," or sit on the beach and silently watch the sun disappear under the horizon.  With a friend we don't have to say or do something special.  With a friend we can be still and know that God is there with both of us.

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