Archives for January 2014

No more fear. This year, faith is taking center stage.

I have finally learned, internalized really, that the two are exclusive opposites of each other and that I cannot feed my fears while claiming to have faith.

I certainly cannot enjoy the blessings and fruits of a faith tree well tended while chopping at its base with the blunt edge of worry.

I cannot wring my hands and squeeze my eyebrows together in pursuit of those terrible “what ifs” while smiling wildly and raising my arms in praise of the answers and celebration of grace already given.

This flip side relationships between the two is so obvious to me now, it’s a wonder that all these years previous have yielded me any answers or any peace at all. Because fear and worrying have come so naturally to me. But they can be trained out.

Were you here at the digital W when I had that slightly mystical Worry Door experience? It was August 2012. And it was intense. 

http://lazywmarie.com/closing-the-door-to-worry/ This was the original post. A vivid sight and powerful message for me.

Well, that door has crept opened and been slammed shut too many times since then, and it all has been a beautiful learning curve for me, one for which I am so grateful. The times over these past seventeen months or so that  I have succumbed to that weird temptation to peek behind the Worry Door and examine the shadows, pet the darkness and soak in the ick, have yielded me confusion, bitterness, a sense of defeat and exhaustion, and plain inactivity. I have been easily paralyzed in my beautiful life just by gazing at what I thought I should be worrying about. Big things by the way, important things. Things of the heart and building blocks to life and well-being. Still, I knew better. Worry is not the answer.

On the other hand, miraculously, those times over these past seventeen months or so that I have consciously turned away from the Worry Door and rejected fear, have yielded incredible peace and joy. More than emotions, though, my life has seen very real changes when I have acted on faith instead of acting on fear. God responds to our faith expressed, and He wants us to trust Him with everything. Have no fear. He invites us to enjoy confidence, deep in our bellies and bones, that He hears every whispered prayer and every groaning, and He loves us and is able to help.

How will my days be different without fear?

• More reaching out to loved ones, especially my girls, without fear of rejection or confrontation.
• Interesting, life affirming new experiences without fear of looking silly or failing. (I went for several city runs this past week, a brand new experience for me, and it was amazing! That first one was fearful, but I am SO GLAD I got past that! LOL)
• Deeper involvement with our church without fear of not fitting in or disagreeing.
• A renewed effort with beekeeping and horse training without fear, once again, of failure.
• A calmer, more relaxed marriage without fear of Handsome finding someone else more… everything.
• Finishing a written work, like a novel, without fear of criticism or forgettability.
• Running a marathon without fear of running a marathon.

And so many other things are possible, too. Maybe this sounds like a broken record to those of you who have been reading along with me these past couple of years; but clearly it’s a lesson aimed straight at my heart:

Do Not Be Afraid

Marinate in Love so deeply that you ooze it. Receive your promises and act on faith. Be confident and steady, not fearful. When you recognize that you are torn between the two, choose wisely and start celebrating the answers ahead of time!

What might be different in your life if you abandoned fear? What possibilities would be unlocked?

You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith.
~Mary Manin Morrissey

XOXOXOXO

I am linking up this week with some of my favorite bloggers

to share our “un-words” of 2014.

My un-word is fear.

Check out the other pieces written by Edie, Darlene, and more!

Hello again, and happy Mama Kat Thursday! I’m once again linking up with this fun group of people, today in response to Kat’s wondering… What are five of my favorite things?

I like things. I have plenty of them, and I have a pretty particular taste with most stuff. But I honestly had a hard time getting excited about things I could tell you to go buy. I’d much rather tell you about things worth enjoying. Cool?

1. Waking up (almost) every day with Handsome. He is my husband, my best friend, my fierce protector, and my constant provider. He makes me feel the best of all feelings and challenges and inspires me too. He drums up cravings to show strong, active love, something much deeper than sheer romance or companionability. Waking up next to this man and starting our days together… Then reuniting (almost) every night and blending our limbs and our hearts… These are precious gifts to me. Also, it’s been a lot of fun lately to hear which new iPhone alarm sound he chooses for startling  us out of our deep slumber. The A-Team theme song has recently given way to a dolphin’s eeeee-eeeee-eeeee-eeeee!!! Soothing. Soothing is what it is.

2. Nourishment. Perfect coffee early each morning and so much healthy, decadent, wonderful food every day, every week. Only occasionally do I partake of coffeehouse indulgence, but I am today. The rest of the time this girl is frighteningly good at brewing cheap coffee at home and dressing it just so to taste like a $4 cup. Yum. And the blessing of being so well fed the rest of each day is far from lost on me. My favorite eats lately are kale, oranges, eggs, anything with salsa or avocados, mushrooms, roasted garlicky chicken, ceviche, and any kind of oily pasta. Ok aaaaannnd… I am so hungry.

3. Hearing from my daughters. Any little snippet about them or especially from them infuses my day as with essential oils. This special contact is healing to me, perfuming, invigorating. Just plain wonderful. My heart is confident in them and in each of their futures. I know beyond any earthly fear that God has been with them all along and that He always will be. I’m also making changes in the Apartment because I feel some farm visits coming soon… This, friends, is a truly precious gift, this deep maternal knowledge. My girls are such beautiful, fascinating, gifted young women… I am abundantly grateful and hopeful.

4. Running. I’ve stepped up my marathon training just a tad, which is to say that I am almost on track now, haha! I’ll get there and will write more of a Hal Higdon update later; but in the short term, making running a part of my daily routine four to five times per week has been one of the best life changes I have ever made. My husband would certainly agree, because at the very least I am in a fantastically better mood on the days I run long.

5. Late winter garden daydreams. Oh the lusty, intoxicating, full-self stimulating business of imagining and planning next season’s gardens. I have been enjoying this gardner’s private ritual for years and get more serious and more carefree about it every single January. Right now I’m deep in the belly of the beast. When I emerge with something worth sharing you’ll know. Because I’ll be shouting it from the rooftops.

So these are five of my favorite things about life, lately. Of course my list of passions and blessings is at least a thousand times as long, but as always there are other things to do besides write.  And Kat only asked for five. These five are the shining, throbbing hallmarks of my days lately.

Do you share any of these with me? What are your top five faves?

If you’re stopping in from Mama Kat, welcome! I would love you to stay a while. Please consider adding to our little chain story from earlier this week. http://lazywmarie.com/lets-build-a-chain-story/

To my other friends, pop over to her blog and check out some of the other fun entries!  http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/blog/

Y’all have an amazing Thursday. Count your blessings, big and small. Actively enjoy them, or they are wasted. Smile big and silly. Life is good.

XOXOXOXO

You’ve played this game before, right? Where one person begins a story, no limits, and passes to the next person, who adds to the story’s beginning, again no limits, then passes again to the next person? The story can take as many twists and turns as the various players can imagine, and the ending is usually nothing like what the beginning might have hinted. Or maybe it is! This is completely up to the players.

Oh my gosh. Friends, it is so much fun. I was subbing in an eighth grade English class this winter, sans-lesson plans because the regular teacher had taken sick rather suddenly. To calm the natives, who were restless and can definitely smell a sub’s fear, I had them sit on the floor in a big circle. We kicked off this game with about nineteen extremely creative, intelligent, hilarious thirteen-to-fourteen year olds, and the results were phenomenal! Some kids were shy at first, but the story-telling opened them up even more than I expected.  Other kids dove right in, face first, plunging into the icy unknown waters of fiction with greed and joy.  It was a sight to behold, and I walked away from that class period wishing fervently that I had taken notes. Their communal, accidental story was amazing. And as a group they were on a serious writer’s high when the bell rang. Lots of the kids ran up to me in the hallway later that week asking if we could do it again. It is FUN.

Well, I want to play this game with y’all. My really smart, funny, insightful, creative readers. And I have the perfect prompt: This photo. I snapped it while on a particularly invigorating run this morning, not at the farm in case you’re confused. It literally stopped me in my tracks.

Since I cannot gather you in one room at the farm and have you sit on the floor in a circle (although that would also be a blast!), let’s just pass the baton electronically. The first person to comment can write in any direction whatsoever, as briefly or as lushly as you desire. The next person, same invitation. Feel free to change the story completely or embellish, go deep or get ridiculous. Variety and will. That’s the thing.

I would be tickled turquoise if this story were to continue gradually for many weeks. Tell your friends! Spread the word. Come back often to see where the storyline has spun, and contribute as many times as you like. Do you have writerly kids? They can play too! Let’s see what kind of story we can build together.

Okay, I’ll start…

Emma couldn’t believe that it was really happening. She’d heard warnings and horror stories about it all her life and was trained for such situations in half a dozen ways but never thought of herself as a target. The man who’d been tailing her in her blind spot for a  full mile was gaining on her, aggressively now with no one else in sight, and she felt that prickly heat sensation of danger scan rapidly over her body. Pushing her son’s stroller leisurely all morning, she now picked up to a clumsy jog and resisted to urge to turn around and look at the man in the face.  Didn’t want to see him, wanted to will him far away from her and her baby. She sped up. The chunky wooden necklace she’d been so careful to select that morning was now bouncing painfully against her collarbone and ping-ponging off of her face, confusing her and obscuring her view. Her son either felt Emma’s tension or was uncomfortable with their new pace and started fussing…

See? Easy. Your turn!

This morning after the men left for work, I fed the animals, did a round of early chores, and made sure there was plenty of food for cooking later (there always is). Then, temporarily ignoring a long list of more important things that really are not more important, I laced up and swam through the thick, low-hung fog to grab a few miles.

Just as Handsome and I had noticed earlier this morning during Hot Tub Summit, everything outdoors was amplified in the fog. Louder, stronger smelling, brighter, crisper, yet diffused. Absolutely magical. So, while running I did my best to memorize the details (sans notebook) and am now sharing them as a Senses Inventory. Hope you enjoy!

See:  Prairie grasses bent and blackened from the damp. Well worn foot path curving ahead of me, slightly uphill, between fallen limbs. Our house and barn both ghosted in the distance. Geese bathing excitedly in the pond. Dulcinea (baby llama) watching me from the field-dividing green gate.

Hear:  Geese honking softly and splashing in the water. A neighbor’s donkey braying and a different neighbor’s hound dog howling. A diesel pickup truck coming to life. Really good music in my ears: Today was FUN and Big Bad Voo Doo Daddy.

Touch:  Feet pounding the soft wet sand, laces just the right amount of extremely tight. Legs warm and throbbing. Belly empty, cavernous feeling. Sweat drying everywhere on my skin, cold breeze on warm muscles. For the first time in what seems like forever, my hair is plastered against my face and neck. It is wonderful. Heavy, cold moisture on the fronts of my eyeballs.

Smell:  Rain. Wet earth. That intoxicating, peaty, mossy, rich, clean perfume… Crisp pine greens and spicy cedar aromas. Decaying leaves. My own saltiness. I can smell springtime yearning for us just like we yearn for her.

Taste:  A trace of cinnamony snickerdoodle milk and coffee from breakfast. Sweet and creamy, so good. And salt when I lick the corner of my mouth.

Feel: I feel deeply excited for our future, for our parents and children, for our friends. I feel a sense of overcoming right around the corner. I feel inspired and capable, less conflicted than I have felt in months. Maybe years. Steady.

Think:  I am almost always thinking of my girls, especially right now. I am also thinking of my friend Marci and her beautiful little family. I am thinking of my Mom and all the hearts she juggles and tends to, including her own. I am thinking of our good friends Jon and Margi, of book reviews I can’t wait to share, and of a book I want to write myself. I have a lunch date in about an hour; so I’m wondering if she would notice that I just air dry this sweat, and skip a shower?

Do you practice Senses Inventories? I would love a glimpse of your day. It is so calming to deliberately notice and articulate the seen and unseen details of your life, just for a moment. It’s really helpful to get you out of worry and into appreciation, too.

I’ll consider it a personal favor if here in the comments you share any part of your senses with us. Thank you so much for reading!

Very little grows on jagged rock. Be ground. Be crumbled, so wildflowers will come up where you are.

~Rumi

XOXOXOXO

The year was 2004. The city was Playa del Carmen, Mexico. Handsome and I were there to celebrate our wedding anniversary, and quite against my will I was being seduced and absorbed by another man.

Ted Bundy. Yes, that Ted Bundy. The serial killer.

I’m not proud of this. But neither am I terribly ashamed.

I am sharing this with you fine people for two reasons. First, because Mama Kat http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/, in all of her infinite wisdom, has asked us to dig deep into our histories, ten years deep to be exact. She has asked us to share a photo of ourselves from 2004 and compare it to ourselves now.

I am also sharing this with you fine people because this photo represents a rather sore spot in my otherwise dazzling love story with Handsome. A tiny little fly in the ointment, I’ll admit, although good grief I have laughed so hard about it over the years! So telling this story publicly needs to happen. The healing needs to begin.

I’ll tell you how much the healing needs to begin: While typing this story I asked my sweet guy to verify the name of the city in Mexico where all of this took place, and his eyes flamed. He even stopped playing his video game.  “You don’t even remember?! You were so caught up with what’s-his-name that you can’t even remember the name of the city we were in??” Then he shook his head too forcefully and went back to his video game. “Playa del Carmen,” he mumbled, “you should know that.”

Once again, I laughed so hard. You have to understand how rarely my husband gets jealous. It’s a rare romantic gift that delights me, and I realize that is horrible.

Back to Summer 2004.

Handsome and I were leaving Oklahoma City, just the two of us, to seek the hot sands and tranquil waters of the Gulf of Mexico. We were so excited, and with good reason. I mean, when does a married couple not need a trip alone to anywhere beachy? I know.

Before driving to Dallas for our overnight wait, we stopped at the grocery store for road trip snacks and at the library for books.

Allow me to repeat: We both checked out books for pleasure reading during our trip. Neither of us disputes this fact, but also neither of us can remember any of the other books we borrowed from the Metropolitan Library System. Just the Ted Bundy story stands out in our pained collective memory.

So we drove cheerily south to our Dallas hotel, no doubt flirting with each other and jamming out to really good early 90’s rap all the way. It’s kind of our go-to road trip music. I don’t remember exactly when I would have first pried open that paperback book by Ann Rule, but by Dallas I was hooked. Perhaps you can see the seriousness on my face in the photo above, taken by my already frustrated husband of just three years. Perhaps you can see I didn’t even bother to unpack anything before crashing with this stranger.

Perhaps you agree my forehead is too shiny.

I should point out that this was long before I had a blog for recording my book reviews. I didn’t even know at that time that normal people were allowed to write book reviews. Didn’t you need a Presidential pardon? Or to be knighted by the Queen? No such plans for me. I was very simply enthralled by an excellent story and glued to its pages. My husband grew less and less amused by my amusement.

Apparently the deeper I fell down the morbid, twisted rabbit hole that was the story of Ted Bundy’s 1970’s wickedness, the more difficulty Handsome had in getting my attention. He claims that by the time we reached Mexico he had to say my name three or four times to break my hypnotic gaze, and getting me to go anywhere without that paperback appendage was impossible. Including to the elegant pineapple-and-espresso breakfast spread at our resort. Including to the pristine white beach with no children. Including to our vacation bed.

He exaggerates. It’s really embarrassing.

Anyway. This book was incredible. It was written from the perspective of a young woman who actually kn…

Wait, I’m slipping down the T.B. rabbit hole again. Sorry. Suffice it to say that I wasn’t avoiding my wonderful husband; I was having a great time with him in Mexico! I was just also deeply, widely, thoroughly fascinated by the ed-Tay undy-Bay story. (I try not to say his name too often. It’s… provoking.)

All told, we were in Mexico for almost a week, and if my sweet, lonely husband’s version of the truth can be trusted, it was halfway through that week before I would swim in the ocean or dine with him making full eye contact, undistracted by you-know-who. I feel a little bad about that. What I do not feel bad about is becoming fully educated on the dangerous wiles of a serial killer and simultaneously being absorbed by the story telling prowess of a woman who, somehow, survived him.

Rabbit hole!

So that’s the story of my tryst with Ted Bundy. How am I different ten years later?

Ironically, I read far more now than I did then. But never, I mean almost never, at the beach with my husband, and also never at dinner. In fact  to this day I am reluctant to bring a book on any trip with my long suffering husband, lest it should prove to be as wickedly fascinating and distracting as that. Fat chance, but still.

Be better than me, friends. Pay attention to your man on vacation and read on the side.

And if you know Handsome in 3-D, I double dog dare you to strike up a conversation with him about the Lady Killer.

XOXOXOXO