Today I had this kind of delayed realization of how dramatic I really am.
Not gonna get into the particulars, but really. Seriously. I am.
I don't have anything in particular I'd like to commit to writing. A bunch of everything I don't have time to get to. Mostly, I love the line my title is taken from. Call it a summary if you will, or maybe inspiration. But it needed to be put out there.
I just think it's funny how life is rarely balanced. Feast or famine, my Aunt G told me the other day. A subheading for this post could very well be (originating from the genius minds behind the first line), "Everything hits at once". Which is apparently how I like it.
I've been thinking a lot lately about my tendency to try to carry too many things at once. I mean, I have small hands and my arms get tired prematurely despite my pathetic attempts to endow them with strength. Oh and did I mention I have a little thumb. Anyway, I've been thinking a lot about this because I've been moved out about a month now and honestly every time I stop home-which is about every other day-I end up bringing more things home or hijacking miscellaneous objects from my house like say a book or two here and some food and instant breakfast or a corner of a brownie I shouldn't eat but do while I leave a nice bag of laundry in the washer. And I also feel like I live at work now. I bring half of my cupboard with me so I can put together meals there. So I get in and out of my car and my arms are brimming with bags and sacs and books and boxes and groceries. Oh yeah, did I mention that I do my own grocery shopping now? Not to sound pathetic-because I mean, with my freak of a gluten self I have been doing a lot of my own shopping for a while now-but there is something I LOVE about grocery shopping. It reminds me of France, and hiking up the 5 flights of stairs with water. As in, my drinking water for the week. Then followed by my milk. Then followed by everything else. It was a serious feat for my 20 year old self. And this was all after a spending a good hour perusing the aisles and basking in the glory of French food and labels. Not to mention a successful exchange with the cashier. Yes, in French.
That, ladies and gents, was how I came into the world of grocery shopping for ones self. It was a beautiful, complicated thing. And I still love grocery shopping today, if only because I associate it so deeply with something so wonderful.
But yeah, back to this bad habit of mine that my Dad likes to give me grief for. Rather than make several trips, I tend to pile everything possible on top of me. Using every finger, crook and sometimes toe. The irony of course is that I rarely make it anywhere without gravity and physics getting the best of me. Though technically I suppose physics wouldn't be physics without the gravity and that physics is an all encompassing term but hey, emphasis on the gravity. And on the toes. Which usually end up suffering the consequences.
Saturday in fact I was returning from Costco and lost the strawberries twice to the grass on account of the fact that I couldn't see where I was going because said strawberries were obstructing my view. I had to squat twice to pick up and rearrange. The best part of the story is that my roommate was a witness. She was in her car, watching, but occupied. I was really glad that someone else got a laugh out of it because there I was in squat #2 and I thought that this whole gravity thing was wasted on me if I was the only one who got to see it. Because let's be honest. Been there, done that. It's not that impressive to me anymore.
This gift that I have for overestimating my capacity to juggle what I'm carrying and my ardent attempts at defying gravity are starting to seem like a metaphor of my entire life. Not that this cycle is necessarily driven by an attempt at cutting corners-more an attempt to streamline efficiently.
For example, recently, I feel like I'm in a relationship with my running that started off as a fling which then turned on me into a serious, committed monster. This is kind of the story of my life. It's weird how the little things I take on have this ability to morph into big, life consuming things. They just sneak up on me, imperceptively. And afterward I think, as I so often do when I'm gathering up the fallen spoils of the war between gravity and I, "should I have seen this coming?"
Most of them are beautiful things in their own right. Most of them I wouldn't take back. Because if I could have foreseen the potential mess I couldn't have foreseen where that mess would bring me.
And therein lies my problem.
Because here I am. Trying to add just one more thing to the top of my stack and my burdened arms. But hey, I'll count my blessings: I carry around one terrific pile of things and I'm gonna do it like I've only got one trip. And ain't that the truth.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
Getting crafty
So it's fall break. The plan was to read a little from Manual del Guerrero de la Luz and get up sharply at eight and spend all day tomorrow being very efficient.
So not going to happen right now.
My efficient day tomorrow hopefully will revolve around a service project we're collaborating on as a ward. It's a fundraiser and by collaborate I mean we all come up with crafty things to sell at a boutique and then the money will go to support the non-profit charity group Mothers Without Borders. My roommate is kind of the one who put us in contact with the organization and is spearheading our efforts. She's inspiring, so I figured that I could summon the artistic/mime buried deep inside and get crafty.
Now I'm not particularly big on the whole "vinyl" thing on the walls of houses. I'm not too big on vinyl on wooden plaques either, to tell you the truth. Like, I don't know if I would actually ever purchase them. But supposedly people like them and my dad has a vinyl machine so it seemed like a nice marriage of means and demand and lack of originality.
And, I probably don't need to mention this here of all places, but, I do love words. So it kind of makes sense, right? In fact, one of my projects to do before I die or turn 30 (isn't that synonymous?) is to find favorite lines from some of my favorite children's books (we're talking the classics here) and illustrate them. Watercolor. Colored pencil. Sketch. Modge podge collage. Whatever. And then I want to frame them, complete with the test/line at the bottom of the frame.
On second thought, maybe I should postpone my deadline till 35 because obviously the idea behind this is that this potential "series" would go in a kids room. And well, there's me getting ahead of myself. Though with 4 sisters one of us is bound to have produced a mini-Hendry over the course of the next couple years.
If I ever type the number 35 in reference to my inevitable future age again I think I might puke. I'm still in denial I ever stopped being 22.
Anyway, so you get the appeal with the whole words thing. My dilemma is that I love words excessively. As in, a lot of words. As in, the quotes and poems that I want to dedicate to vinyl are probably longer than most people care to have written on their walls. And I can't really help the starving children in Africa if I make something that doesn't sell. But, like, I'm not a mind reader. Nor a marketer. Soooo.....
Truthfully, I'm not sure how this dilemma will work itself out. This week though, with this project in mind I came across a book with some beautiful silhouettes of children. And some of them I might try to make work for my project. A lot of them though just made me think of "project nursery" (a word that I am only able to type without nausea because my sister is decorating hers so I'm getting immune to it: much more immune that the number-which-shall-not-be-typed). And one of the pictures (which I cannot scan because my scanner IS NOT WORKING) would go oh so perfectly with this quote from Alice Through the Looking Glass:
Alice: You see, Kitty, it must have been either me or the Red King. He was part of my dream, of course -- but then I was part of his dream, too!
Wish I had the silhouette. Anyway, one thing led to another and this picture and one on the opposite page reminded me of something I wrote years ago in a creative writing class and have been wanting to edit and dedicate to print. Like maybe bookbags or something. I don't think anyone would care for it on a wooden plaque in vinyl with the silhouette. But I might be onto something with the last two lines. They've become my own personal mantra and I know that's super lame to be so self involved that you take your own advice way too seriously but well, is it so crazy to say that maybe the words speak to me because they came to and not from me. (This is another cryptic Elizabeth Gilbert reference. You can get the full context here, under the news section and her TED talk on creativity). And I might actually start up my own project once Mothers Without Borders is done. I blame Etsy for these desperate, hairbrained ideas. Among other things. Thought more than Etsy knick-knacks (all of which, coming from me, would probably involve words) I really want to collaborate with my sister and write and illustrate a children's book. Like really. But most of my ideas and wants never come to fruition which kind of leaves me just wanting to post the thing here. In the meantime, I tell myself.
So whatever, enjoy. Hopefully my scanner will start functioning and I can get the images. They kinda tie everything together.
I have several other posts that never made it past a few lines in my head that summarized an entire web of feelings and thoughts. I wish I had time to go back and write them but I likely won't. In summary:
I miss Colorado. I miss my CZ family. I miss the hours I had to read and speak French and run and play with the dog. I miss riding in the car and having the kids sing along to the radio (Your Love is my Drug, Break Your Heart, and other top 40) but most especially when they would sing to 500 Days of Summer soundtrack.
Four years ago October 11th I started my mission. I rewalk the streets of Quebec almost every day in my memories. People that I maybe only talked to for 5 minutes and will never see again are still changing my life. I miss the members there more than they'd probably ever guess.
Yesterday, a man down the street from me passed away after a year or so of battling cancer. My dad sent me the link to his blog and his last entry was so beautiful. A young father of 3 children, he was at peace with his end. I think a lot of that is faith and a lot of that is a life of giving. I'm in no real position to comment and not really able to articulate. But that kind of peace and strength, it's something to think about.
I love a lot of people, all around the world. It baffles me sometimes, how much room the heart has to carry people in it. I am grateful for the people who carry me with them still. And for those that inspire.
So not going to happen right now.
My efficient day tomorrow hopefully will revolve around a service project we're collaborating on as a ward. It's a fundraiser and by collaborate I mean we all come up with crafty things to sell at a boutique and then the money will go to support the non-profit charity group Mothers Without Borders. My roommate is kind of the one who put us in contact with the organization and is spearheading our efforts. She's inspiring, so I figured that I could summon the artistic/mime buried deep inside and get crafty.
Now I'm not particularly big on the whole "vinyl" thing on the walls of houses. I'm not too big on vinyl on wooden plaques either, to tell you the truth. Like, I don't know if I would actually ever purchase them. But supposedly people like them and my dad has a vinyl machine so it seemed like a nice marriage of means and demand and lack of originality.
And, I probably don't need to mention this here of all places, but, I do love words. So it kind of makes sense, right? In fact, one of my projects to do before I die or turn 30 (isn't that synonymous?) is to find favorite lines from some of my favorite children's books (we're talking the classics here) and illustrate them. Watercolor. Colored pencil. Sketch. Modge podge collage. Whatever. And then I want to frame them, complete with the test/line at the bottom of the frame.
On second thought, maybe I should postpone my deadline till 35 because obviously the idea behind this is that this potential "series" would go in a kids room. And well, there's me getting ahead of myself. Though with 4 sisters one of us is bound to have produced a mini-Hendry over the course of the next couple years.
If I ever type the number 35 in reference to my inevitable future age again I think I might puke. I'm still in denial I ever stopped being 22.
Anyway, so you get the appeal with the whole words thing. My dilemma is that I love words excessively. As in, a lot of words. As in, the quotes and poems that I want to dedicate to vinyl are probably longer than most people care to have written on their walls. And I can't really help the starving children in Africa if I make something that doesn't sell. But, like, I'm not a mind reader. Nor a marketer. Soooo.....
Truthfully, I'm not sure how this dilemma will work itself out. This week though, with this project in mind I came across a book with some beautiful silhouettes of children. And some of them I might try to make work for my project. A lot of them though just made me think of "project nursery" (a word that I am only able to type without nausea because my sister is decorating hers so I'm getting immune to it: much more immune that the number-which-shall-not-be-typed). And one of the pictures (which I cannot scan because my scanner IS NOT WORKING) would go oh so perfectly with this quote from Alice Through the Looking Glass:
Alice: You see, Kitty, it must have been either me or the Red King. He was part of my dream, of course -- but then I was part of his dream, too!
Wish I had the silhouette. Anyway, one thing led to another and this picture and one on the opposite page reminded me of something I wrote years ago in a creative writing class and have been wanting to edit and dedicate to print. Like maybe bookbags or something. I don't think anyone would care for it on a wooden plaque in vinyl with the silhouette. But I might be onto something with the last two lines. They've become my own personal mantra and I know that's super lame to be so self involved that you take your own advice way too seriously but well, is it so crazy to say that maybe the words speak to me because they came to and not from me. (This is another cryptic Elizabeth Gilbert reference. You can get the full context here, under the news section and her TED talk on creativity). And I might actually start up my own project once Mothers Without Borders is done. I blame Etsy for these desperate, hairbrained ideas. Among other things. Thought more than Etsy knick-knacks (all of which, coming from me, would probably involve words) I really want to collaborate with my sister and write and illustrate a children's book. Like really. But most of my ideas and wants never come to fruition which kind of leaves me just wanting to post the thing here. In the meantime, I tell myself.
So whatever, enjoy. Hopefully my scanner will start functioning and I can get the images. They kinda tie everything together.
You are here to learn the world by heart. One plus one, two plus two. The sky is blue, and the grass is green. But sometimes the sun likes to remind us that we shouldn’t get too comfortable with that simplicity, and plays tricks on us by way of surprises. (Especially at sunset.) Dark clouds mean rain, and if there's going to be rain it’s best to have a coat. And maybe some rubber boots. Sometimes, being in the rain without a coat isn’t such a bad thing. You are here to learn the world by heart. You get what you pay for (most of the time). You won’t always get what you give. Sometimes you will get exactly what you give; and more. Everything is qualified. You are here to learn the world by heart. Always bring an extra pair of socks. You can never own too many shoes. Socks don‘t always have to match; shoes probably should. Don’t let your feet-and most especially your toes-forget the feeling of the raw earth under them. You are here to learn the world by heart. There are times when it’s best to remember to forget. Sometimes the little things are disguised as big things and sometimes the big things are disguised as the little ones. What matters most cannot be seen. Do not see what isn’t there. Look both ways. You are here to learn the world by heart. Please and thank you really are magic words. A seed plus soil plus sun plus water all just right makes a plant. And that is magic too. The worst of times can also be the best of times. The soul speaks many languages. You are here to learn the world by heart. Take time to listen. To people. To music. To the streets and the wind. To the sound of you breath and your heart beating. Stand up straight. Smile. Fake a smile. Never fake tears; but don’t stop them either. Fear doesn’t always mean that you aren’t brave. Maybe just too careful. Gravity is that thing that pulls you down when you are trying to fly. But don't keep that from stopping you. You are here to learn the world by heart. Beginning, middle, end. For every breath you take from the world, the world will make you give it back; it's like you're breathing together, if you do it right. You are here to learn the world by heart. Learn the world by heart.
I have several other posts that never made it past a few lines in my head that summarized an entire web of feelings and thoughts. I wish I had time to go back and write them but I likely won't. In summary:
I miss Colorado. I miss my CZ family. I miss the hours I had to read and speak French and run and play with the dog. I miss riding in the car and having the kids sing along to the radio (Your Love is my Drug, Break Your Heart, and other top 40) but most especially when they would sing to 500 Days of Summer soundtrack.
Four years ago October 11th I started my mission. I rewalk the streets of Quebec almost every day in my memories. People that I maybe only talked to for 5 minutes and will never see again are still changing my life. I miss the members there more than they'd probably ever guess.
Yesterday, a man down the street from me passed away after a year or so of battling cancer. My dad sent me the link to his blog and his last entry was so beautiful. A young father of 3 children, he was at peace with his end. I think a lot of that is faith and a lot of that is a life of giving. I'm in no real position to comment and not really able to articulate. But that kind of peace and strength, it's something to think about.
I love a lot of people, all around the world. It baffles me sometimes, how much room the heart has to carry people in it. I am grateful for the people who carry me with them still. And for those that inspire.