One of the things I'm not so good at, followed by "My Big Mouth".

Commitment.

Guhhhh... I can't even spell it correctly most of the time.  I'm about as bad at committing to something as I am at being consistent.  C words.  The worst.

But if I want to blog (B word) then I just have to stick with it.  It's not that I don't have the gumption (G word), it's just that I get so analytical (A word) about everything (E word).  (That was fun and now it's not anymore.)

I have all of this massive amount of free time.. see previous blog post (aka: no friends).  And what am I doing with it?  Today I slept, pretended to sleep, whatever.  And it's dark outside all of the time and it will be so easy for me to get into the habit of eating bags of "Fun Size" Snickers every night if I don't plan something out for myself.

So I'll let you in on a little conversation I had with God.  One sided.  So, basically I'll tell you what I told God.  I said "God, I want two years.  Give me two years."  What that means, I could get into details about, but basically I just want you to know that I'm starting a two year project.  I'm going to see where God takes me in these two years.  And I'm going to ....try to..... rely on him.  Whewwww, I said it.  And immediately I'm faced with a conflict.

EXHIBIT A.

My totally amazing redheaded friend is backpacking through Europe for a month this spring.  She invited me to join, spending a week in Paris, and then doing some tromping through Eastern Europe-which is so tempting because I have never been to the Eastern, darker, moodier side of Europe. And I have heard nothing but phenomenal things!  Honestly!  But here's the thing.. I can't go.  God didn't tell me to go.  I can't.  Is that crazy?  Because that's what these two years are about.  Saying to God "I don't move until you tell me to."

It seems crazy.  And maybe that's why it's such a good idea?  A lot of my friends say, "Just gooooooooooo!  Do what you want to do and put God in the centre of it."  I want to do the opposite.  I want to delve into the relationship, rely fully on him and only move when I feel compelled.  Some people might say that I am wasting my days, but if the ultimate goal of life is a relationship with Jesus and if there are people right here that I can minister to then why would I need to "get out of this stupid dumb dumb town!!!"...?

Which brings me to EXHIBIT B.

Same friend.  Lives in Ottawa.  With a slew, a whole cat litter, of some other chum-chums of mine.  I haven't visited Ottawa since 2009. (aka: so long ago!)  I've been to BC 4 times since then and I'm right in the middle of the two.  So, there's an airline that has a 50% off sale which ends Monday and it's so incredibly tempting to book a flight!  For spring!  In the city!  With my babes!  Right?  Doesn't that make sense?  I mean, wouldn't that be the reasonably fun and exciting but not too, too adventurous thing to do?  Wouldn't that still be within my allowance of mobility during this two year bonanza with God?  I mean, Ottawa.. it's our country's capital city for goodness' sake!  Would God be so offended at my outward display of patriotism?  I think not.

Until I actually think about why I want to do it.  Because I'm already looking at my life calendar and thinking "Wow.. Spring of '12 is going to be a rough patch."  It just seems so hallow.  Deathly, even.  So an easy fix is to put a trip in there, and then count down the days, be able to look forward to something.  But the more I think about it, the less patriotic I feel.

So, how much am I willing to sacrifice over the next two years?  No, I'm not answering that.  But I will say this.  Here's the level of "enlightenment" which I hope to reach.

Immediately upon posting this I thought, "Wouldn't it be cool if I posted a photo-a-day of my life?!!"  No, no it would not.  Refer to the top of the blog post. Amen.

Fearless and also friendless.

The holidays are over.  This is bad for my social life.  Reeeeeeeeally bad.  I had an appointment at my chiropractor's and after running my errands in town I still had some extra time so I drove around the riverfront.  It was 11pm-kind-of-dark at 5.  Eery, but really beautiful.  It just gave me the gentle reminder, "You're all alone again." but not in a lonely way.  In a matter-of-fact way.  I'm flying solo again.  And I love to fly.

And sometimes that's a good thing.  There's a certain schedule, certain priorities that I have when free time = me time.  I find that it's very easy to get into a lull when my friends are in town.  It's easy to get sidetracked.  So, while I'm sad that we're back in the "dry" season, it's also a refreshing time for me to be with myself.  It means more time for myself, which is blessing.  I feel like a lot of people are so busy trying to be someone, trying to be with someone, that we forget about our own selves.  That little nugget inside of us.  So I'm going to try to be patient with God and myself.  And I think out of that patience will come something unexpected.

Oh hey there baby new year! Five day old baby new year, look at you.

The proposition for 2012?

Be more fearless.
(Be more.  Fear less?)

Something like that.

That was fast.

Hello, it's January 1st, 2012 and I'm already lonely.  What in the world.  Why??!  Today was this grand, inspiring day where I looked in the mirror and teared up because I could only see a bright future in front of me.  My emotions are absolute speed junkies, adrenaline seekers.  So quick and on the move.  They're here. They're gone.  Oh, look it's -happine... Oh wait, it's gone.

It's funny though because emotions don't really affect my ability to believe that my future will indeed be illuminating.  It's just that right now-cooking dinner for my parents who are going to arrive home from Arizona-is so mundane.  I think it has something to do with the lighting in our house, or lack thereof.  Every bulb has that sick orange-y glow to it.  And our living room has no light at all since it decided to burn out.  ...Burn out..

It's a recurring theme.  Comes and goes.  There are no blinking red lights on my phone.  And some days that is the farthest thing from a problem, but some days, like the very first one of the entire year, it feels like.. "Oh gee, no one in the world wants to see what I'm up to."  And I can't help but feel a little vacant in my being.  This is what I will live with the rest of my life.

I've already figured out that loneliness is my weakness.  When I'm not lonely, oh I couldn't care any less if I didn't see a human for weeks.  But when that twinge of emptiness comes, it doesn't really matter if I had coffee with three thousand of my closest, dearest friends.  As soon as we're on the last sip, or maybe even before, I'm feeling unspeakably blue.

I wanted to write poetry today, because I was so overcome with the need for community-for women to call each other sisters instead of bitches.  **Please, do me a favour and the next time you want to call another woman a bitch-don't do it.  She's not.  Hurt?  Ya.  Turning that hurt into a means to exude power and/or hurt others?  Oh ya, I don't doubt it.  But we're all guilty of that.

I think I get lonely because I get scared.  Because I don't tap into everything that is in me, namely the absolute fullness of God.  If I was 24/7 tapped into that, I don't think I would feel so lonely.  Burdened?  Ya, but I would feel close to God.  And it only took me this long to remind myself (accidentally) that God is the Great Physician, even for loneliness.

Airplane conversations... which is pretty open-ended so I'm gonna go ahead and say Part I.

I was flying yesterday, bidding my stay in the sun farewell to soak up all that is grey sky central.  Hey, but it's home.  So anyway, there's a couple sitting next to me.  And I notice her ring first, obviously, because it's big.  And then I notice what they're up to: meal planning!  And for the outsider looking in, this is like a parade on Envy street.  Two souls, uniting to plan their destiny.  It's just pure poetry.  And then I notice his ring-BAM-married folk!  And young!  And like me in a lot of ways but in another world!

So I'm thinking to myself, trying not to completely lean into their space with my curiosity, about how "cool" their life together must be.  They're probably students, studying late hours, books everywhere, just happy for the chance to sit and have a meal together-which they are now preparing for in advance.  I saw "chili" and "yogurt covered fruit" as the list of their Meals to Freeze.  Ahh, reach for the stars kids.  The world is yours.

But then this plane ride takes a turn.  Not literally, otherwise  we could have ended up in Utah.  Although at one point, it's so turbulent that Mr. Married does spill his Jack and Coke everywhere.  On the Kindle, even.  Rough. 

Anyway, somewhere near the end of the trip, as the husband is taking out his Kindle, obviously to read from it, while he has his headphones on, the wife says, "Can I talk to you about something, if you're not doing anything else?"  Well, I was actually.  But sure.

She proceeds to lay out for him a wide range of scientific study which suggests that... a bed should only be used for sleeping.  Reading in bed, or doing anything stressful in bed (she mentioned "homework", zing! I was right about the books everywhere in their apartment!) can be disruptive to the body's ability to go to sleep in that same spot.  So she suggests, get ready for it.. chairs.  Chairs in the bedroom is what she is suggesting to him on this flight.  And she's doing a great job; "I think there's enough space.." followed by, "A lot of people have them.." and finally, "I just-the studies.. it's what they say."

And then he says "Ya. Sure. Sounds good."  And now turns his Kindle off and takes his headphones out because we've reached that altitude in our descent where it's "no longer cool", as one flight attendant pointed out, to have your electronic devices on.  And so he pulls out his gun magazine, but before he turns the first page, "I'm really glad you like the idea!"  "Ya."  And the only question he asks is "Wait, what kind of chairs are we talking about here?"  To which she replies, "Oh nothing very expensive!  Just some small chairs.  Maybe even a love-seat so we could sit together and read!"  To which he replies, "Ya. K. Ya."

As soon as those three ticks of noise are out, his eyes are focused on the gun magazine.  And then she proceeds to further the conversation, "I mean, it's not like we have to sit there every night or anything, it's just..."  Eyesoffpage. "Ya." Eyesbackonpage.  He obviously doesn't care to talk about this any further, yet she keeps plowing through.  She will magically will the small, inexpensive chairs into their bedroom with her words.  

Does she know that he doesn't care, that he would rather be reading about something about a gun which seems like the worst thing in the world to read about but who am I to judge?  Or, does she knowingly not care herself, like she has a point to get across and she'll do it come Desert Eagle or .44 Magnum?  And lastly, is that going to be me?!  Will I be that girlfriend/wife/slave to the kitchen?!  Are those what marital conversations are like?  I mean, I get it... you have to have conversations about necessary, but not necessarily fun for everyone subjects.  Chairs in the bedroom.  I get it.  But what will I do when, while I'm talking about something important to me, all he wants to do is read about guns?  Is that something you just get used to?  Or should he have said, "Can we talk about this later?  I just want to play on my Kindle."  Should he have said that, or would there ever be a better time for him to be interested?  

After that conversation between the two people sitting next to me, I thought, "How will I ever marry a boy?" ... Stay tuned to find out!

Don't be ridiculous.

I know you well enough to know that you've-at least once... a day-had the urge to apologize for something that well, really you don't need to apologize for.

Picture me, hobbling among the Arizona Foothills.. in fact, it might just be easier to picture a crippled Tibetan monk and add a backpack.  There!  You found me!  I thoroughly enjoy spending time climbing the hills, but I couldn't help but feel self-conscious.  Why you might ask?  A flare up of some juvenile arthritis in my left ankle causing me to ginergly, oh so gingerly, cascade down the mountain slopes like a woman who is literally holding all the time in the world in her backpack.  It's embarrassing.  But why?!  Every time I encountered someone on the same path as me I wanted to explain myself, "I don't actually usually travel this slow, it's just that, well, my arthritis doesn't usually do this to me, you know, I can walk faster than this-but it's swollen... it hurts."

I imagined that people were snickering behind my back about the "that girl who is sooooo afraid of falling".  Nooooo, I promise I'm braver than I look!  It's just... THIS... FOOOOOT!!!  I even thought about how much easier it would just be for all of us in the mountains-wildlife included-if I just wore a t-shirt that said "I've got arthritis okay?!"  Then everybody wouldn't have to wonder about the helpless girl who could use a walking cane.  Or a scooter.  Or a para-glider.

Isn't that dumb?  You don't have to apologize to anybody for whatever you're working with!  And honestly, probably nobody has even noticed anyway.  The people I met probably didn't realize, or care to give my sight more than a second of thought.  Stop worrying about what anybody else thinks!  Go and hike!

I'm that woman.

You see me in the grocery store standing in front of the sale ice cream in the frozen food section that I passed with my cart 3 minutes ago.  I returned.  And now I'm doing the routine "Shouldiiii-shouldiiiinot-shouldiiiii-shouldiiiiinot" dance in my brain. 

"We don't really need ice cream."
"Oh wait.. I do love Skor."
"Skor's on sale!"
"Skor's usually 8 bucks!"
"...Skor's still 6 bucks...."
....shuffles away...
"BANANA CREAM PIE?!"
"Would I even really eat it?  I mean... banana flavour is a tricky thing to get right... and it's 6 bucks."
"But it's on sale. It will never be six dollars again.."
"That's true.. It will never be.."
"If I had to choose between Wunderbar and Skor what would it be?"
"The container of Skor says it has 3 whole bars in the ice cream!"
"But I'm realizing that Skor is a relatively thin candy bar.. and three isn't a very big number.."
"But it's always nice to have ice cream in the house."
...puts the Skor ice cream in the cart which is sitting unattended and lonely 20 feet away....
"Ya, ok this is good."
....takes steps 1, 2, and .....
"I really can't justify paying six dollars for something I do at home for cheaper."
....puts ice cream back in its rightful place...

I did a similar dance at the checkout with a FoodNetwork holiday edition magazine.  Long live (because there's no such thing as short lived) indecisiveness.