Somewhere between

This first song is "I ain't the same" by Alabama Shakes, the second is "It's Time" by Imagine Dragons.   I believe music speaks - and that both of these songs are saying something very different from each other, and yet, they are both - right.

How can that be?

A Story -

A couple of weeks ago I wanted to go to a writers group.  I was rushing around, I put on pants with a button, wow, go me.   Actually, I was pretty desperate to make this meeting.

What happens at this writers group is  5-8 people meet in a room at the library, bring several copies of a chapter or a short story that they have written, and read it aloud.  Then the other people critic them.  There are published novelists there.  It is pretty serious stuff.

I was rushing around and could not for the life of me get my computer to make my printer print.  It was maddening, I gave up and went to the library to print it.  There were no computers available at the library, there was no way to hook up my computer to the library printer and it was going to cost me 25 cents a page to print (that is 3 pages times 8 people).  I gave up.  I went home.  I pouted and got on with my evening.

I told myself something that I hadn't said in a long time "it just wasn't meant to be"  which is dangerously close to "God didn't want me there."   I couldn't get it out of my head.  I kept telling people about it.

Then, last week they were having writers group again, I told Jonathon before he left for work that I was planning on going. I had used the printer earlier in the week for something else, unrelated, but hadn't printed the document that I was taking to share.  I was determined to deal with that earlier in the day.  A couple hours later I was sitting at the table with several of my children doing school work and the printer started printing.  I am dead serious.  I wasn't even near the computer.  The first thing I did was look over at the computer, closed, on a table across the room.

It was printing the document that I wanted to take to writers group two weeks before.

I don't believe in stuff like this.

I don't believe in Karma or the universe or fate.  I don't even believe that God works that way, anymore.  I used to think that every little thing meant something.  What I mean is, I don't really think that God gives a care whether I go to writers group or not.  I don't think it is good to spend all my time analyzing every little thing that I do and the response that I get from it or what happens because of this or that thing (benign things, not something obviously right or wrong).  It isn't healthy for me to ascribe a "God loves me for doing *this* and punishes me for doing *that* to everything that I do.  I thought I was over that.  This silly printer thing kinda rocked that paradigm for me a bit - okay -  so maybe a lot.

In this way I feel like "I ain't the same anymore" but in another way, even time can't take some things from us, "I am just the same as I was, I am never changing who I am."

How this tension between *change* and *the same* works I don't know.

Why things happen or don't happen, why my printer wouldn't work and then worked with out being told to work.  I really really don't know.  I think it is an extreme example of my lack of control.

My need to accept -

This - just this.  This moment and experience and situation.

And yet - move forward from it;  learning, growing, changing - anything but staying still.

It is hard.  The not understanding.

And still -

Figuring out how to simply live this mysterious, crazy, complicated, confusing, amazing, blessed life that I live.

Musings on worth it and Facebook

Both of these articles have popped up on my FB page this week while I was supposedly taking a "break."

Ummmm, yeah.

5 questions about social media

and

How to love an Empath

I really think they are about the same thing.  At least for me.

In response to 5 questions - I completely get the point.  I knew I was having a problem last week when I thought - oh I should make bread so I can post pictures of it on facebook.  Ummmm, nope.  I justify myself constantly when posting on FB or here, saying "well, at least I don't do THAT" - which this article covers thoroughly.  I think it can lead to discontent when we see everyone else having fun and we aren't or getting stuff that we aren't or being something that we aren't.  This I must be on guard against.

What I really learned about myself, and this is not new information to anyone else is that I am a validation junkie. I don't really care what you are doing, I just want someone to appreciate what I am doing.  I am not sure that this is all bad.  It can become bad when I don't get the response that I was hoping for and it ruins me, which I struggle with, but what the Empath article made me realize is - this is also a good part of me.

It is a hard part - I am pretty sure it makes people less want to engage with me.  Realness is uncomfortable, heck, anymore, kindness is sometimes uncomfortable.  When I worked at Amazon I started the happy face club, I feel a little bit like I should be ashamed of this, or of telling people about it.  I bought a bunch of tiny happy faces and started giving them out to people that were nice or looked like they needed cheering up, it made me *so* happy to do this.  So so happy!   I am not ashamed, I am proud.  I am proud that I am the type of person that can give in this way.  I feel horrible when I talk myself out of giving.

This is the thing though, I also love to receive, I try hard not to take - not to be needy (something I have been accused of before, much to the detriment of my mental health ;) ).  I posted about M&M's on FB yesterday.  It was true that the bag of M&M's were gone, literally.  This was an analogy though, and the people that posted played into it perfectly.  Jonathon and I talked about this the other night.  He needs things of the heart to have a concrete explanation.  I told him that I needed a full bag of M&Ms and I love giving away my M&M's and, often, it is like more just appear, but when they are taken and not returned - I run out.

This is not a good place for me - The connections that I have on FB fill my M&Ms.  No one has to comment, everyone is more than welcome to unfriend me, same with this blog, read it, don't read it - I can live with that.  Me, telling myself that I am bad or wrong for wanting to share though - that is what kills me - that is what empties my bag.  I will keep engaging with people on the internet, I will keep inviting people into my life and being rejected, I will keep serving and sharing and being my interesting self - because I am and I can't not be.

What I must do is be more aware of the little ways that my M&Ms are given back; with a kiss from my baby or a positive school day with my struggling student or a smile back in the grocery store .  These are the M&Ms of life and I love them (especially the peanut butter ones!).

And always the hope is that social media is a means - to face to face interactions, to truth and Truth being spoken among friends, to opportunity for care and compassion being communicated and acted out, in real life and real time.

Because that is so completely worth it.

Neither

When I started this blog I didn't consider the "neither" - for someone so often unable to make up their mind the irony is not lost.

Disposable life! !

Disposable life
territory example of love
Wrapping in plastic bags
Flying with windstorm

Annoying the air of cool wind
Finding a new rescue of life
Disposable life

Clitch on wrist
Run wid fun
Tickle on face
Live with charm
Disposable life

Factory trash in canal view
Burning the sick desires few
Waiting at the end of street
Watchng the cars passing by
Disposable life
Bunch it crunch it
Disposable life 

Somia Race

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/disposable-life/

Just found this poem - I like.

BBQ Chicken

One of the best things that I have ever done was get into the habit of buying tons of chicken breasts and ground beef at the beginning of the month and then cooking it all up and putting it in dinner sized portions in the freezer.  It is probably the only reason that I actually cook at all.  I recognize and feel an appropriate about of guilt over the fact that we eat said chicken and ground beef for nearly every meal.  Oh well.

This evening I, of course, didn't want to fix dinner.  I had some shredded chicken that needed to be fixed, and some hoggie buns that needed to be eaten and after perusing Pinterest for 30 minutes I decided to KISS and slap some Sweet Baby Rays on that chicken put it in the microwave and call it good.  Add some chips and baby carrots, bada bing, bada boom - dinner.  I know I am such a gourmet.

The point of this story is that over our lovely BBQ chicken I remember to tell my husband that I called in his prescription and that he needs to pick it up on Monday.  He responses with "oh has it been a month already?"

This proves how on completely different wavelengths we are.

The last time that he had a refill it was Dec 4th.  For some reason I noticed this when I called the Dr. this morning.  I remember the day.  I insisted that he take UnPaid Time off to go and get the medication.  We were both working, I remember the conversation specifically.

To my point.

That was a *really* really really long time ago to me.

Worth it

Journey just said "I want to learn to read."  Wahoo!

Worth it