Breaking down….

A friend referenced to this song during a discussion we were having.  The general gist of the song is not along the lines of an attitude I would encourage, but sometimes, there’s lyrics that better define your condition than any words in your head.  But maybe that’s just me.

It is always such a relief to find words that relay what I’m feeling.  I don’t think there’s many things more discouraging to a writer than not being able to find the right description.  It almost seems from time to time that it’s like a sickness plaguing me and burdening me with all of these external symptoms, but no diagnosis comes back from any tests.  It isn’t even the diagnosis that frightens you, it’s the not knowing.  In fact, oftentimes, once you have that label, diagnosis, whatever, you exhale.  It’s the sigh of relief….it’s knowledge.

To have a writer/singer-songwriter/speaker conveying words that find you exclaiming “That’s it!!!”  “That’s what I feel inside!!!”  “You said it, you spoke it, you know it!!!!” is just liberating.  It’s my exhale.  Not even so much to what the “prognosis” is from the label, just having it put into words is comfort in and of itself.

But—–like I said——maybe it’s just me….and if it is…that’s okay.  Again, don’t be disturbed by this…I’m really okay, just weeding through some things and thoughts.  It’s just a fraction of the label!  Prognosis is excellent!

(Smiles)

Kristie

Sleeping off Sickness —-City and Colour

I awoke only to find my lungs empty,
And through the night, so it seems I’m not breathing.
And now my dreams are nothing like they were meant to be,
And I’m breaking down, I think I’m breaking down.

And I’m afraid to sleep because of what haunts me,
Such as living with the uncertainty
That I’ll never find the words to say which would completely explain
Just how I’m breaking down

Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Maybe I’ll sleep when I am dead,
But now it’s like the night is taking sides
With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind
Could it be this misery will suffice?

I’ve become a simple souvenir of someone’s kill
And like the sea, I’m constantly changing from calm to ill
Madness fills my heart and soul, as if the great divide could swallow me whole
Oh, how I’m breaking down

Someone come and, someone come and save my life
Maybe I’ll sleep when I am dead,
But now it’s like the night is taking up sides
With all the worries that occupy the back of my mind
Could it be this misery will suffice.

A life remembered…..

It was a horrific day, to say the least…to sum it up is impossible.  To watch a dear friend beg the doctor to do more to revive their daughter’s lifeless body will forever change you….no matter who you are.  To then have to go home and explain to my 4 children that their friend was gone was terrible, too.  Nothing that I feel pain-wise of this situation will come close to a minute fraction of what they felt that morning….no parent should have to feel that wrenching in their heart.  Here’s just a fragment of what they felt:  

http://www.rbc.org/devotionals/our-daily-bread/2009/06/08/devotion.aspx

There are simply no other words right now…

Missing: Photo ID

Well, as I write this, I am 2 days into my college career.  Go on, ask me how many times I’ve thought “What am I doing?”  “What was I thinking?”  “Why did I decide this was a good idea?”  The answer would be “Only about every hour or so”.  I am completely confused and bewildered to think that I am capable of accomplishing a 4-page essay comparing and contrasting something.  I am convinced the only positive thing about that assignment is that the subject is of my choosing.  I’m trying to stay confident, but truthfully, that is fading FAST!!!

So, that brings me to the very interesting aspect of my dream last night.  It was so realistic…one of those wake-up-an-remind-yourself-it-isn’t-real dreams.

I was in a hotel room.  There was a sense of excitement, also.  I was going to go on a trip.  To me, in my dream, it was going to be the most amazing trip.  It was even paid for…all I had to do was GO!  I had a large suitcase that was all packed.  It was full of all of the just-right outfits.  Some great name-brand clothing, and a fabulous new designer handbag.  (That part was particularly cool to me!!)

It was time to go, and as I was making sure that I had everything I would need along the way, I remembered that once I got to the airport, I would need my driver’s license for ID at security.  Thus began the casual browse through my purse…and my bag….and the room….and my coat, etc…  My ID was nowhere to be found.  I KNEW I’d had it in my hand when I arrived at the hotel, so it had to be there somewhere, right?  It just HAD to be.  I’d just seen it the night before.  My dad and his girlfriend were the ones that would be accompanying me on the trip, and they were at my hotel-room door waiting for me.

(Editorial interlude here:  I am completely perplexed at the presence of my dad and his girlfriend.  Not for any reason other than the fact that in regards to my decision to pursue a college education, ie, “the trip”, there isn’t a significant role that  they’ve played.  And when they were waiting for me, they were standing like zombies in the doorway.  Completely sullen-faced and detached, with arms down at their sides as in this Verizon commercial:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QrlEYNfODI

Generally speaking, neither one of them is ever sullen-faced and unfriendly.  It was freaky to say the least!)

Back to the story.  As they were waiting, I didn’t want to tell them that I couldn’t find my ID.  We went out the door, as I’d searched everywhere in the room, under the bed, etc…  We were in a cab on our way to the airport and they figured out — in dreams, I never see how they figure it out, or ever tell people things, they just know it— that I was missing it.  As I feel the level of anxiety and distress steadily increasing due to the missing ID, somehow there’s an expert in the car, too, that is repeatedly uttering “If you don’t have your ID, you can’t board the plane.”  “They WILL NOT let you through security if you don’t have it to show them.”  “How do you expect to get your ticket handed to you if you don’t even have a way to prove it’s you.”  So on and so forth.  The dream ended, or rather, faded into the distance with me in tears pleading my case with the person scolding me. 

I’ve always been VERY intrigued by dreams.  Especially when they are quite relevant to personal experiences.  I can see that the trip is my college journey, and that the suitcase is full of “necessary materials”.  I’m guessing the designer handbag is the icing on the cake, because it was literally sitting on top of the suitcase.  Did I mention that the suitcase was huge???  I think the handbag represents  something I desire as in my eventual career as a nurse…because I desire that career as much as I desire that incredible purse that I will NEVER pay $800 for.   Even my “Burberry” purse is a $25 knockoff!  

I’m still quite perplexed as to what the missing ID represents.  My friend today suggested that perhaps it’s my diploma.  I agree that is a fair assessment.  Somehow, tho, in my dream it was something that seems more like a tool I need to succeed that I have within proximity, but can’t locate.  Kind of like when you reach for a glass of water in a dream but you never can really grab ahold becuase, in reality, you’re simply grasping at air with your raised hand.

So, please, my friends, I am very curious to know your thoughts and ideas on this.  I’m always open to hear others opinions on things like this.

As for me, I guess I’m looking again for something to compare and contrast!!!!!

Goodnight to you all!

New chapters, new beginnings & COURAGE!

Courage.  Merriam-Webster defines it as this: “mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty

MY definition is found in a quote I love:  “Courage isn’t the absence of fear, but a decision that what we want is more important than what we are afraid of.”   – Bill Crawford

Finding courage is a meaningful thing to me.  I spent many years struggling to find the energy to simply face the day, let alone step out on my own to accomplish something.  Recently, I made the decision to go to college and attain my degree in nursing.  I realize that to some or maybe most of you, that may not seem like a big deal.  To me, though, it meant overcoming many issues I have had with anxiety, but primarily, recognizing that it was okay for me to do this for myself.

I have always been of the belief that if I worked outside the home, I wasn’t aligning my priorities correctly.  After all, isn’t a mother supposed to stay home, cook and clean, homeschool the kiddo’s, and be presentable when hubby comes home to dinner on the table.

HA!!! 

Never did it ever work out like that.  I would try, though, and usually it would end up with me crying while cooking dinner as hubby walked in while the two older kids were running around like monkeys and the baby boy twins were biting each others arms.  Inevitably, I would be frustrated to no end…until I realized that not every household has to operate under a specific regimen.  I can’t even describe the agony and utter confusion it caused me to think that it was okay to do things my way in my house.  I didn’t have to answer to the other moms that I thought I had to live up to…nor did they care if I did!  As a friend recently told me, “where is the panel of judges that pats you on the back for a job well done?  A bit disillusioning to one day realize there is no audience to your life really but yourself (at least while we are on this earth…)”  (Thanks, Peter)  To recognize that God wouldn’t be displeased with me if I pursued an interest outside of the home is a free-ing thing.  To even further realize through prayer that God is opening doors for this to happen is even more liberating.  To feel like I’m doing something to eventually help provide for my family is a good thing.  I’m all for stay-at-home moms, but have come to realize that God is calling me into something more than JUST a mother and a wife.

It just hit me one day…”I can do this!”  I went to the college, took a placement test, talked to a counselor, registered and signed up for classes…ALL without one little pang of uncertainty.  There’s been panic moments since then, but they’ve come and gone. 

I feel like Annie when she walked into Daddy Warbucks house.  “I think I’m gonna like it here!”  It’s such a good place for me to be.

Rain…

Ahhh, rain…

Does it just seem strange to some people that I love the rain?  Sometimes it even seems strange to me…

The rain is so refreshing to me…I welcome it any time of the year, but particularly in the summer.

Most of my memories of rain as a little girl in Idaho involve the dusty ground.  The fine, dry dirt that was SO much fun to walk in would seem to repel each raindrop.  No matter how hard the water droplets fell, when it struck the ground, it wouldn’t absorb into the warm earth, it would just create a small cloud of dust with each hit that would dissipate quickly.  I remember playing in the dirt and trying to absorb that water into the dirt, but it just never seemed to mix.

Observations:  [Rain IS typically viewed as a negative element, especially when used symbolically in relation to our lives, so I choose to use it that way in this example.]  Thinking back, the rain storms from when I was growing up were usually preceded with dark, billowy clouds and noisy claps of thunder.  It was a race to get indoors before the violent drops began.  My fear would win out and I would retreat.  Then I’d watch it from a safe distance…knowing that the window would keep me dry and my house would keep me warm.  Of course, living in a hot climate, there was always the comforting, refreshing scent of the pavement after the rain.  The earthy aroma that just seemed to bring me back to nature. 

It’s now, as an adult, that I recognize the power of those moments in light of my Christianity.  How many times, as Christians, are we so on fire from the Son (sun) that our warmth alone repels the drops of rain that enter into our lives?  I cant say that it’s the case with me.  I can see the analogy’s significance in my life.  To be so on fire for God that the rain that falls cannot disturb or even begin to mix into our very being.  It simply creates a tiny puff of dust and pools to the side…waiting to dissipate.  The rain drop’s force and velocity of falling to the earth from perhaps miles above is simply resisted…just like that…putting all of the “intentions” (if you will) to shame.

Satan’s attacks on us can sometimes be seen coming at us.  They can seem like they will have the impact of a freight train barrelling directly toward us…but Christ’s power in us is strong enough to repel even that.  It is the same as that small sample of dirt, which, if warmed enough from the sun (Son), resists the full force of any attempt on Satan’s part to enter our lives in a way as small as a raindrop.  Oh, to be that kind of Christian is my desire.   

There is, however, another perspective of rain to me…and that is the cleansing power.  A couple years ago, I became obsessed with caring for my lawn, which is huge, so it is no small task.  I began alternating through the cycles of fertilizing, watering precisely, feeding, etc…  It was also during this time that I read something that talked about the value of the rain.  The rain brings elements in the air down into the ground which feeds the grass.  It isn’t necessarily just the water itself that encourages growth. 

So, when our lives get cluttered with busy-ness and polluted with contaminants, a rainfall should be a welcome sight.  Sure, the fear tends to win us over, but once we’re in a shelter, we recognize the safety and cleansing that the rain can bring.  God is that shelter and He provides the cleansing.  Maybe we’re afraid in the noises and darkened clouds that come first and threaten us, but once we run to Him, we’re given a different perspective of it all.  And to be able to recline and know that the sweet aroma of His presence awaits us once the storm is over and the growth that WILL follow is truly a precious gift.

So, now I have grown to love the rain and welcome it.  Even when I feel soaked to the core and miserably cold, I know what Shelter I have been given…and it’s better than any umbrella that is sold.  Oh, and let’s not forget the rainbow that follows…

John 14:27  Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Beginnings…

Here’s to the beginning of my blog.  Interestingly enough…most of my ideas for blogs come to me in the shower.  I find this a very trivial thing, but quite intriguing.  I suppose the rest of my day is spent with thoughts in my head pertaining to what I’m doing, but in the shower, it’s routine enough that my mind is free to wander.  I often think the things would be boring to others, but cathartic to me so here I go off into the adventure of blogging….and I’m really excited!

 

In the meantime, here’s a beautiful pic to look at.

“sometimes i wish i was born a bird”