life as i know it...

a foggy beginning...and ending...

The fog is thick this morning, hovering over the corn fields.  As I sit outside, it is like looking through the layers of a delicately knitted afghan.  While the white cloudiness outside feels like the manifestation of my own foggy brain this morning, it is also soothing - a salve to calm my edgy nerves for all that lies ahead today.  I feel blanketed by the layers that block my view of the distance.  As if my mind is not quite ready to process this day of beginnings, Nature has decided to be my companion during this transition of uncertainty.

Today is a beginning and an ending.  It is the ending of a month of solitude spent in a new home, in a new place.  It is the end of long mornings immersed in books and afternoon naps.  It is the ending of open days and my frequent uniform of cozy pajamas.  But it is also the beginning of the next eleven months.  It is the beginning of my work at the new hospital, the beginning of the final stage in reaching my dream to become a doctor, and the beginning of the road that will eventually lead me back home.

people come, people go...

I truly believe that people enter our lives for a reason.  Some are there from the very beginning and maintain their place in our lives until the very end.  Others enter for brief periods, becoming mere acquaintances or even friends or lovers for a time.  Still others enter later, but fill a more permanent role in our journey throughout life.  And sometimes, people enter our lives only to leave and then enter again.  Regardless of how long the relationship lasts or the meaning the relationship brings to our lives, most of these people impact us in some way.  Even those who only pass through our lives for a brief time often leave their markings upon our hearts.

The greatest difficulty lies in the uncertainty that accompanies any relationship.  There are no guarantees.  Even with those closest to our hearts, we have no assurance that they will be there beside us tomorrow or next month or next year.  We have no guarantees; what we have is faith.  And while that faith brings us comfort, there is a very real fear hidden in the uncertainties.  It is that fear that reminds us of how precious our relationships are, of the importance of showing our love to those closest to our hearts, and the value those relationships have for us.

There was a time when I opened my heart to others freely and with abandon.  If I met someone whom I thought could potentially be one of those "permanent" people, I would immediately shed my mask along with many layers of my skin.  I never stopped to question the other's motives or their commitment to the relationship.  I dove in, heart first.  As a result, I often found myself surprised and puzzled when I realized that the relationship was not one that was meant to last.

As the years have passed and I've learned tiny slivers of wisdom, I've become more protective of my heart.  While I still love freely and passionately, I no longer feel the need to immediately bare all my hidden layers.  Perhaps previous heartache has led me to this place.  Or perhaps it is just a growing patience and the faith that relationships will lead wherever they are meant to go.

In the past several months,there has been a shift in many of the friendships in my life.  The changes have not been bad; in fact, many of the changes have been good.  In the physical separation from a few dear friends, I have come to appreciate those relationships even more, to realize what a truly special gift they are in my life.  There are others that have drifted away, and still others that have found their way back after long absences.  With these others, there is a great deal of uncertainty and I am not sure whether the future will cement these bonds or stretch them thin.  It is difficult not knowing, and yet I am surprised to realize that my fear with these uncertainties is minimal.  For now, these relationships are simply where they are, and they will go wherever they will go.

For all the other relationships in my life, I am blessed with faith and trust.  I am comforted by the strength of bonds formed and molded.  I am thankful for ties that will never be broken.  My heart is fuller than it has ever been, and yet I know there is still a place for all the people who have yet to enter my life...

inheriting love...

There are moments in life when we are reminded of our greatest blessings.  I experienced one of those moments tonight...and that moment has flooded my heart with such intense love that it feels as though my heart could not possibly contain all the love I feel. 

As I was getting ready to get in bed, I decided to check my email one more time just in case there was any new information about my start date for work.  While I did not find any work-related emails, I found something so much more important...a beautiful, thoughtful email from my Daddy.  As I read the touching vulnerability contained within his words, tears fell down my cheeks.  They were not tears of sadness, but tears of the greatest emotion any heart can experience.  They were tears of pure love.

As those tears fell upon my face (and as they still do), I am struck by the depth of love I feel for my family.  To be blessed so tremendously is difficult to put into words.  I ache to find the words to describe this feeling, but the only thing I can find is this...overwhelming, unconditional love!

It is this kind of love that I have known every day of my life, and I realize in writing that what a true and rare treasure that is.  The fact is that, from the very moment I was born and even before, I have been whole-heartedly loved.  I have been given love, and I have been taught how to give that love to others.  At the very core of my being, even in my worst moments, that love is always there...to give and to receive.  And it is a precious gift...a miracle!

I love with every ounce of my being, to the tips of my fingers and toes, to the ends of every strand of hair on my head.  I love fiercely and with ineffable passion.  I love as if my entire purpose on this earth were simply that...to love.  And perhaps it is; perhaps it is the one true purpose for all of us.

This love is the one thing I know when I do not know anything else.  When the world is spinning and I have no idea which direction to follow, the one certainty I always have is knowing that if I just stop and look inside my heart, I will find my direction.  I will find the answers.  I will always find my way back home.

Most people inherit something from their parents.  Some inherit a certain color eyes.  Others inherit athletic talent.  Some inheritance comes only when a loved one has passed away, and that inheritance may involve money or family heirlooms.  But there is another kind of inheritance...one that has nothing to do with genetics or money...one that is not contingent upon time or loss.  I did not inherit the brilliant green of my parents' eyes, and none of us are exceptionally athletic.  What we have is far greater than money, and while it is a family heirloom of sorts, it is not an heirloom in the traditional sense.  What I inherited from my parents is far greater than any of that...what I inherited was love.

Tonight, I sit here, 800 miles away from my parents, and yet I feel them with me.  I feel them with me because I carry them in my heart every moment of every day.  I carry their love with me, and I know that they carry my love with them as well.  I have inherited the greatest possible gift from my precious Daddy and Mama...I inherited love!

In honor of my own inheritance (and my dear parents who gave me this gift), I want to say one last thing tonight...I hope you all find this overwhelming, unconditional love in your own lives.  Love the people around you.  Love them fiercely and passionately.  Because at the end of our lives (or the beginning), love is the one legacy truly worth inheriting.

what I "should" be doing...

Life is filled with too many "shoulds."  We believe that we should do this and we should not do that.  We grow up with expectations placed on us by society or family and eventually we form our own expectations for ourselves.  There was a time when I thought that others' expectations "should" be the guiding force in my life.  Then came a time when I realized it was my life and I could no longer base my life on the expectations of those around me.  That was when I started to believe that following the direction of my own expectations was the route I "should" follow.  And only now am I coming to realize that my own expectations are just as dampening to my spirit as the expectations of anyone else for me.  The truth is that any expectations can be harmful to the soul.  In forming expectations, we are merely setting ourselves up for failure and disappointment and frustration.  Life is not really about what we "should" or "should not" do; it is about what we want, need, hope, and dream for in our lives.  Placing parameters upon those hopes and dreams narrows the fullness we allow ourselves to experience in this life.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately.  With more time to think these days, I've begun experimenting with some of the "shoulds" I carry around inside of me.  To be more honest, I've only come to understand more about the "shoulds" and "should nots" after finding myself in a seemingly perpetual state of personal disappointment and frustration.  My ideas and expectations for myself have been thrown into a chaotic upheavel as I am forced to confront the battles between how I believe I "should" be spending my time and how I truly want to be spending my time.  It is yet another learning process in life, and it is one I am determined to pursue.  Because at the end of the day, there are certain things that perhaps I "should" enjoy, but I just don't.  And living my life based on those "shoulds" only makes me frustrated and irritable and quite miserable company (for myself and others).

Amidst all the "shoulds" I have been carrying inside myself, I am learning more about who I actually am.  And more importantly, I'm gradually learning to start accepting myself more. 

Specifically, I have been overwhelmed with thoughts about how I should be spending this time while I am waiting to begin work.  I think that I should be doing something productive, such as working on my dissertation.  I should not be taking naps.  I should be going to bed early and waking up early.  I should be cooking meals and eating normal meals at normal mealtimes.  I should be patient.  I should go to church every week and I should be a better person when I return home after church.  I should enjoy the cool weather here.  I should not complain.  I should be able to stop the anxiety that overwhelms me at times.  I should read classic, reputable literature and I should not read mindless romance novels.  I should...I should...I should...

All those "shoulds" are nearly driving me crazy, as you can well imagine.  And while some of those "shoulds" have been a part of my mindset for a long time, others are only now beginning to enter my awareness.  Realizing that I am nearing my 29th birthday and I'm no longer spending my time with doctorate classes and 12-hour night shifts, I have believed that my whole lifestyle should suddenly change.  And while pieces of my life need to change (to accommodate a new schedule), I'm coming to understand that other pieces are just a part of who I am.

I do not want to be working on my dissertation right now.  For the first time in years, I finally have time to myself without the burdens of constant schoolwork and deadlines.  I want to enjoy that time.  I want to be lazy and not feel guilty for my laziness.  Which also means that I want to take naps when I am tired. 

I can go to bed much earlier than I did in previous months and sometimes I can actually fall asleep before midnight.  When that happens, it is great.  When it doesn't happen, that is okay too.  Pretty soon I will have to start waking up early every day and when that time comes, I will do what has to be done.  In the meantime, my body yells out in protest if I force myself out of bed too early.  In the meantime, there is no reason to anger my body.  In the meantime, I want to sleep past 8 a.m.

I do not enjoy cooking, at least not on a daily basis.  And I am not good at cooking.  While I can imagine all sorts of delicious meals in my head, the final creation in my kitchen is far removed from the image in my head.  I have certain foods that I really like and most of those do not involve any form of cooking (other than perhaps a few minutes in the microwave).  My body does not usually get hungry at typical mealtimes and forcing myself to sit down and eat at specified times only leaves me feeling sick and irritable.  I would not care if I never ate meat again (with the exception of fish) and I am terrified of cooking meat (or rather terrified of getting some disease from handling the meat or not cooking the meat properly).  I like baking and I love desserts; I do not believe there is ever a time too early or too late to eat dessert.

I am not a patient person.  Period.  End of conversation.

I enjoy the music and prayers at church, but I oftentimes get bored during the sermons.  I get irritated when trying to figure out which disciple did what and who was the son of who.  I would like to leave church and feel like I learned something I can apply to my life.  I do not like it when a church does communion every Sunday, especially when it is not accompanied by the communion readings and "the body of Christ, the blood of Christ" reminders.  I think it loses its significance without the accompanying rituals.  I want to grow each day in becoming a better person and a lot of that growth has nothing (directly) to do with going to church on Sundays.

While I do enjoy moments of the cool weather up here, I miss the sweltering heat of Georgia's summers.  I believe that summer is supposed to be hot and I despise the constant chillbumps on my body in the middle of a summer afternoon.

I am a complainer.  It is one of the things I dislike most about myself and yet it is a fact.  I try to stay quiet and keep my complaints to myself sometimes, but I usually end up more frustrated by holding my thoughts and feelings inside.  This is particularly true when it comes to physical complaints.  I have spent the better part of the past 15 years feeling physically crappy.  It sucks and there is often nothing that can be done to alleviate the discomfort.  And yet there are just times when I need to say it out loud, to let someone else (and maybe myself too) know that the pain is real.

As much as I would like to be able to control my anxiety, there are times when no attempts at relaxation seem worthwhile.  I hate taking medicine on a daily basis and yet sometimes medicine is the only salve for my brittle, weathered nerves.

As for reading, there are days I want to read something classic and full of greatness.  There are other days when I want to get lost in someone else's fairy tale. 

What I am learning is that I cannot base the way I live my life on what I think I "should" or "should not" do.  Living that way takes the joy out of living.  It takes the very essence of life out of living.  And so, I'm realizing that there are many things I like and many things I do not like and those things do not always follow my expectations.  While I'm happy with some aspects of myself, there are other parts I would like to change.  And maybe I will.  But only if I decide that is what is best...not because I think I "should".

dawn breaking...

I awoke this morning to see the sun rising over the far edge of the cornfields, wavering lights of orange alternating with the gray shadows of the massive trees beyond my bedroom window.  To see the morning break open a new day, to separate the darkness and night from the bright buzzing of daylight, is truly a miracle.  And to see it amidst such beautiful scenery is an even greater miracle.

A year ago, I never imagined that I would now be living on a farm in Ohio.  I could never have predicted that I would walk a half-mile each morning (not because I measured out the distance but because that is the length of my driveway down and back), or that I would call out greetings to cows grazing in the pasture each time I arrive home.  There was no way to foresee that I would live on a startlingly beautiful stretch of land where fresh blackberries grow next to Christmas trees so green that their shadows give off the slightest tinge of blue.  I never imagined myself here, and yet this is where I am today.

Each day, dawn breaks and a whole new world opens up all around us.  We have no way of knowing what the future holds, or even what this very day may hold for us.  In a world where uncertainty is inevitable, we must remember to appreciate the small miracles and enter each new day with hope and gratitude.

another quiet night...

It's another quiet night in this northeastern corner of the Midwest.  I'm gradually finding more peace and comfort in these quiet nights, and the days too.  Driving to the grocery this evening to do the weekly shopping, with the sun's rays casting an aura of heavenly beauty across the endless fields of green, I felt so alive.  More and more often, I realize I'm having that feeling of pure aliveness these days.  It doesn't usually last long, often times only a moment or two.  But those few moments are blessings.  Those few moments are my reminders that each of life's experiences offer adventures and possibilities and moments of just blissful happiness at being alive.

Last night, Hubby and I sat downstairs on the patio and enjoyed hours of conversation with our new neighbors.  As our laughter punctuated the cool night air, I felt a refreshing breeze wash over me.  I was happy.

This morning, I took Dakota for a half-mile walk.  Watching him leap through the tall grass and wildflowers, my spirit lifted and I knew today would be a good day.  I was happy.

After numerous warnings of the brutal cold of Ohio winters and the depression that is apt to settle amongst many in this region, I have decided to take some more knitting and crochet classes.  Making the decision to pursue one of my favorite avenues of creativity makes me happy.

These are small, seemingly insignificant moments.  But they are moments that make me happy.  And tonight, as I sit here in this quiet night, soaking in this blessing of peaceful solitude as Hubby and Dakota sleep inside...I am happy!

Being so far away from home has made me start to think more about the years I spent growing up on the Georgia coast and all the many aspects of life back home that I took for granted.  Today especially, on the 4th of July, I am reminded of home and the simple pleasures of life there.  July the 4th is one of biggest holidays celebrated in my family.  This day that marks the birthday of our freedom and independence in America became a day not very different from Thanksgiving for us.  Of course the food and festivities were different, but the overall celebratory nature of the day has always been one of thankfulness and the sweet company of time spent with family.  The days were always spent lounging on the beach or by my aunt's pool, wandering through the booths at the Sunshine Festival, gathering for an evening cookout, then watching the fireworks shoot out their magic over the ocean.  My memories of this holiday are full of exquisite images that paint the picture of the perfect summer day...the feel of hot sand beneath my feet and the gritty, stinging sensation of the individual grains of sand rubbing against sunburned skin...the salty scent of the ocean, the muddy smell of the marsh, and the delicious aroma of meat cooking on the grill...the sound of home-made ice cream being churned, laughter, and the shocking boom of fireworks exploding...outdoor showers, clothing of red, white, and blue, island traffic jams, music reverberating from the bandstand out across the rough, ocean waters...

My mind is filled with memories of this day in years past.  This is not the first year I have been away from the island on this day, but each time I'm not there, I am filled with these memories (and so many others).  These times away are the impetus for creating new experiences and traditions, but they are also the opening of a pathway that returns me to my past, allowing me to revisit the most special moments of the experiences and traditions that have so meaningfully impacted my life.  I am grateful today for the memories I have, for those afternoons I spent lying on the sandy beaches of home, for those evenings of good food and firework displays in the company of family.  While I hold those memories close to my heart today, I will enjoy a day of celebration with my family here.  With the sun finally shining (and the temp only predicted to reach a max of 75 degrees), we'll lounge outside with good books and each other.  The sand will be replaced with lush, green, freshly-cut grass this year.  Expansive cornfields and flower gardens will replace the view of the ocean.  But the smell of meat cooking on the grill will not be so different.  And we will still see a magical display of fireworks exploding against the night sky.  The fireworks will not present their magic over the ocean this year, but when we look up, it will be the same sky seen as our other family gazes upward from back home.

After all, we may be far from home here, but this is still America and the simple pleasures of this day can (and will) still be appreciated.

an unexpected day...

I should have been at work today.  I expected today would be my first day working at the hospital in Massillon, but as fate would have it, I am resting at the house instead.  After a pleasant morning yesterday, meeting the other interns and getting acquainted with the general internship program for the consortium here, I was met with unexpected and confusing news in the afternoon.  Due to Ohio state government budget issues, I am not allowed to begin my work at the hospital as planned.  After a brief time of internal panic, I was assured that I will nevertheless graduate from an APA-accredited internship program.  However, that was about the only question that was very directly answered.  The other questions...when I will get to start work, where I will actually be working...could not be answered.  And because I do not fully understand what is even happening with the state budget up here, I am now left waiting and wondering what this year will indeed hold for me.

In the meantime, I'm sitting in my patio chair, looking out at the backyard.  The day is gray and chilly here, so strange for an afternoon in July.  My body is not accustomed to such weather and I'm bundled in sweats, oddly missing the heat of the South.  My bare toes feel like ice cubes, which naturally leads me to wonder how I will survive the brutally cold winter up here.  I try to comfort myself by believing that the cold, icy weather expected of winter will not be such a surprise as this cool 60 degrees in the middle of summer.  In fact, I keep trying to find all sorts of thoughts to comfort myself today.

With the holiday weekend approaching and this unexpected gray day on the farm, I have found myself continuously battling the feeling of being terribly and intensely homesick.  I cannot help but think of my family in Georgia, the sweltering heat and humidity only a mild annoyance in the company of such loving companionship.  I think of the art and crafts festival that is probably being set up down by the pier as I write these words.  I imagine the beach, the good food, the fireworks spraying out vibrant designs of exquisite colors above the ocean.  I think of these images and I miss home so much.  I long to be there, to share in the festivities of what was once my favorite holiday. 

Hubby continues to be such a blessing for me, now more than ever.  He holds my hand while the tears fall, understanding that my missing home is just a part of me, and today, and the circumstances.  He reminds me that the year ahead will be a good one, and I do believe him.  I believe this in my heart.  I met some wonderful people yesterday and had a nice, long conversation with a new friend last night.  I know that the problems with beginning work will be resolved.  I've read the weather report and am relieved to see that the weekend is expected to be warm and sunny.  We've even found some local festivals and fireworks for our own celebration of the 4th.  But today, in this moment, that belief does not take away the heartache of missing home.

Sometimes I think it's better to just allow myself to feel whatever emotion is present.  I think that is especially true today.  So instead of fighting the heartache and sadness today, I think I'll just let the tears falls when they want.  I'll dig out my cozy leg warmers and snuggle under blankets on the couch.  I watch Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood, and I'll let myself miss Home.