There is a love in me raging
Alegria
A joyous,
Magical feeling
Music Monday – Alegria
Reply
Author Archives: WendyA
Wordless Wednesday – on target
Image
On becoming officially weird
I’ve always felt that since I live alone, I need to be extra vigilant about becoming too weird.
Don’t acquire too many cats. Check.
Don’t talk to yourself out loud. Check.
Don’t get too attached to a body pillow. Check.
But yesterday I was forced to acknowledge that I may have officially become weird.
It didn’t seem like that at first. We had a light dusting of snow where I work and as I crossed the parking lot I noticed that my Fluevog shoes were creating really funky footprints in the snow.
So, I stopped to take some pictures. (mental note: this may have been the point where I veered off into weirdsville)
Anyway, I was making snowy fluevog footprints in the parking lot and bending over to check out good angles for a shot when the CFO of my workplace came over to make sure I was okay.
I got halfway into an explanation of what I was doing – making snowy fluevog prints for a photo – when it occurred to me that my explanation may not be making me sound less strange but just plain batshit crazy.
I may have just officially become weird.
Check out the cool shot I got, though!
And, here are my favourite pair of Fluevogs (so far) …
Music Monday – Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time
Viewing the change
Change seems to be in the air these days. It is the time of New Year’s Resolutions, of planning for the year ahead. Of new school terms, new courses (I’m doing three!). In Canada, we have the Idle No More movement demanding a change in relationship between the government and First Nations people and the protection of our land, water and air.
As I think about change in my own life, I am struck by how profound the inner changes have been and how the outer changes are but mere echos, or ripples, of that inner shift.
In a recent blog, Susannah Conway noted that it didn’t seem right that her outsides looked the same while her insides had been totally rearranged. Even though she was talking about scars, I wanted to say, “me, too!!”
A few years ago, I lost close to 100 lbs. Of course, people remarked on it and told me how great I looked. Which was nice, but hard to not let it mess with my head. Because for a perfectionist and people-pleaser like me, I had to be careful to not define my success by the scale and not to let the compliments of others become my self-validation.
The fact was, it was the internal changes, the hard work of facing my fears, that lead to me putting down the food that lead to the weight loss. But, at least there was external change that reflected the internal change. And, while a lot of people said “you look great” a lot of people said “you look happy”. Happy was the sound; thinner was just the echo. A really great echo, but still …
Over the past few years, the weight has stayed pretty much the same. And while I get frustrated because I’d like to weigh less and be healthier, the internal changes have been as profound, or maybe more, than they were during the weight loss. And, I’ve worked my way across some pretty rocky landscape while my weight has stayed the same; a change in a pattern of creeping weight gain that had been part of my life for twenty years.
So, I pretty much look the same as I did 18 months ago, even though my insides feel cracked open, rearranged and reassembled. Even though my approach to who and how I am in the world has changed.
Even though now I pray and meditate in the morning (well, almost every morning) and journal every night (well, almost every night).
Even though I am open to being wrong and I apologize when I screw up and make mistakes.
I try to be honest, even when it’s hard. To find compassion, even when it hurts. To face conflict, even when I want to avoid it in the hopes that it’ll go away on its own.
To set healthy boundaries so that I can embrace vulnerability.
To be fiercely me, to give myself the space for creativity and to allow myself be visible in the world.
To imperfectly struggle against fear in an effort to allow as much love as possible into my life and my world.
I mean, really, with all that, you’d think I would look totally different!!!
But yesterday a friend looked at me and said “there is something about you today, you look really happy”. It’s been a long time since someone said that to me.
So, maybe my changes are rippling their way to the surface after all.
Wordless Wednesday – accidental EXTREME close-up
Image
Music Monday – getting ready for the joy
cause I’ve been downhearted
I’ve been too long cryin’
cause I wanna be ready
when joy comes back to me
“Joy Comes Back” by rani arbo and daisy mayhem
Grabbing the blogaphone
On December 27th I received an amazing gift from my friend at Witchy Rambles. She nominated me as her “Blog of the Year 2012”.
And here’s what she said –
“This blog is written by a friend and so I could be biased. However, I have been amazed at some of the posts she has written, some of the hard things she has shared and I love the fact that she actually started blogging. I know how hard it can be to open up to the world sometimes and so I admire her courage at starting a new project and sticking with it.
I’ve enjoyed watching her find her blog voice and I love seeing into her world. I admire all the new classes and new things she has picked up this year and think it is great that she is trying out new things. So with much love I say she is my “Blog of the year 2012″
So, yeah, that made me cry. Her blog has been an inspiration to me because I always thought blogging was something people did to make money. But her blog is so clearly for herself and to share herself. And she does it with both a fierce courage and a deep well of compassion. I like that kind of blogging. And, I like her a lot.
It’s been an amazing journey so far trying to figure out what my “blog voice” is. Tomorrow I start on Susannah Conway’s Blogging from the Heart course. So, my “blog voice” might be about to get a megaphone.
I’ll try not to squawk too much into it. Feedback welcome.
What’s the word?
I’m not sure who started the trend of picking a word for each year (Brené Brown? Susannah Conway?) but I’ve been doing it for the past three years although I’ve never shared my word with anyone. Before now.
At first I was kind of worried about picking a word because I thought it was just going to be another new year’s resolution that would gradually fade by the wayside leaving me feeling inadequate (again) at the end of the year.
But that’s not what has happened. The word never played out throughout the year like I thought it would. It took on nuances, different meanings and showed up in the most unlikely places. Which I guess might kind of be the point.
Last year my word was Light.
It was the light in the darkness of depression and loneliness.
It was the light that flickered but somehow didn’t go out, even when my heart had caved in and I couldn’t breathe.
It was the light of faith that helped me to keep going trusting that it would get better.
It was the light of learning that left me not regretting the past but grateful for the lessons learned.
It was the light that needed me to learn how to set the boundaries that would allow it the space and oxygen to stay lit. And maybe to shine brighter.
It was the light that taught me that I am merely the light-bearer, not the light itself.
It was the light of the torch flame that melted glass and created beauty.
It was the light that played in hundreds of photos and changed the way I look at the world.
And it was the light of the fire in me that led me to this blog, to the need write and to the risk of letting myself be seen.
Yup, it was not what I expected. Which makes picking a word for this year both exciting and scary. Because the word that I have picked – or rather which has picked me – is Joy.
I have certainly been happy over the past year but I have not felt that pure joy that makes me feel 100% alive. The joy I feel when I’m running.
Not the first part of the run when I want to stop and cough up a lung and head for the coffee shop. But, that sweet spot where I feel like I can run forever. Or dance or maybe even fly.
The joy of singing. When the breath and sound and tones vibrate through me in a way that makes me feel like my heart has learned to speak.
The joy of waking up early in the morning because I’m so excited about what the day will bring.
The joy of seeing a loved ones name on call-display or in my inbox and feeling that surge of excitement that I get to hear their voice and their stories.
The joy of being in the trees or near the ocean and finding myself in the slowness of geologic time, rather than the pressure of human time.
And the joy of a spiritual connection which fills me so full of this life that I don’t want to waste one single moment of it on the things that just won’t matter at the end of it.
As far as new year’s goals go, my little word seems kind of BHA – big, hairy and audacious.
But since I’ve shared it, I might as well get started on it. Because if it’s anything like last year, or the year before, all I have to do is take that first step and the rest of the journey will unfold as it will. With all it’s unexpected turns.
Guess it’s time to lace up my running shoes.
Wordless Wednesday – feet at rest
A Fish and a Bicycle 