I don't believe in coincidence. That's not new to this journey, I never really have. I strongly believe that the Universe is always looking for new ways to communicate with us, to get through all the drama and other assorted crap we surround ourselves with in this world. Sometimes it's subtle, a wink, a glance, a nod from across a crowded room. Sometimes it's a billboard on a desolate Midwestern highway.
For the more subtle suggestions, I have a rule. If I hear about the same artist/book/movie etc from 3 different people within a 10 day period and I think I will have some interest, I give it a go. This is especially true of music for me, the Divine speaks to me in music all the time. Universe - one verse. No surprise. Yesterday the Universe presented me with Adele. 4 times now, 7 days. So I download her 2 studio albums. It turns out I loved her before I had a name to the voice.
Interestingly enough, the song I am most familiar with on the two albums, was the song that I think I was meant to hear again at this very moment in my life.
Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements
Even if it leads nowhere?
Or would it be a waste even if I knew my place
Should I leave it there?
Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements
Even if it leads nowhere?
This journey for me has been all about getting back into reality. Well... that's not exactly it. There are so many things I've held on to falsely, so many aspects of life I considered truths that really aren't. And so many things I once held incredibly dear that I'm working on making not matter as much. Although everything is meant to be as it is, and every moment and every person and every lesson in my life has shaped my today and there's not a line of my life story I would erase even if I could... I'm spent a hell of a lot of time chasing pavements. A hell of a LOT of time! Incredibly recently, I've committed to giving up, but there was still a nagging "should I?". I'm taking this gift as confirmation that this is the right path for me at this time. Why else would this one verse make it through all the noise, into my open ears and my hungry soul.
If you haven't heard her music (I live under a bit of an indie rock, so she's probably old hat to most of you) let me contribute to the suggestion. It may speak to you as well.
Share your Divinity,
Kimberly
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Academic Thoughts - 4/23
I stood in front of my bookshelf today and thought about a feeling I've had for a couple of years now. I miss school.
I miss those moments of clarity when I finally grasped a concept that had previously been foreign to me. I remember the dance I did when I finally figured out the chain rule, or learning what a derivative really means and letting out a huge "ohhhhh" in the middle of Physics lecture, or when my ex borrowed my textbook the first weekend of my 10 credit summer of organic chemistry and made me flash cards for all of the reactions I'd need for 1 and 2 so that I wouldn't feel overwhelmed. They could have been cue cards for a Swahili news program at that time, but I remember when the symbols started taking on actual meaning. What an amazing feeling that was!
I miss that tests had correct answers and that, with the exception of marks on essays, grades were pretty black and white. I especially miss multiple choice tests. I miss educated guessing, or choosing B and moving on when I was completely stumped, or being able to skip a challenging question and being able to return to it if time allowed.
I miss structured learning, that sense of security (validity notwithstanding) that grasping the material in the textbook meant mastery of the subject; that once there was a book and a syllabus there was a very finite range that could reasonably be expected in order to succeed.
I miss curves. I miss boosts that accounted for general and widespread imperfections. I miss extra credit questions, just because. I miss trying to figure out with my classmates who broke the curve (even when I already knew it was me). I miss extra points for participation, that just showing up meant something. (Though, as an aside, I do not miss forced attendance to Friday lectures.)
I miss concretely knowing where I stood. I miss rosters with scores next to them. I miss calculating how well I'd have to do on the final to get the grade I wanted by using the weighted average specific to the class. I miss progress being as cut and dry as a single letter in thick red ink.
I miss how simple it was to be classified a "good student".
I miss the sense of satisfaction that I was working toward something rather than just floating about and waiting for the next 'something' to arrive.
I miss the perfectly highlighted page.
I miss open book tests, take home exams, papers and the one page of equations allowed in Calculus, Physics, Statistics, etc. I miss the answers all being as easy as knowing where to find them.
But, why?
There are still plenty of concepts foreign to me. I can choose my own path, my own books. I can abandon a book midway through if I so choose, or a topic entirely. I can work on my own projects, my own passions without #2 pencils, scantrons and someone looking over my shoulder to make sure I'm not cheating. I can graffiti pages in all the highlighter I choose. All of it can be important, or none of it, whatever.
In my life I've heard people saying they miss abusive relationships, addiction, crappy family environments, prison, even homelessness. I've always thought that to be insane. Who doesn't prefer freedom?
So why would I miss limitations?
Maybe because I haven't given myself a syllabus or the right learning materials. Maybe because I know I won't do the work without consequences to my inaction. Maybe I never properly learned to cope with uncertainty. Maybe I miss being externally challenged. Or maybe I'm just that tough of a grader. . .
I miss those moments of clarity when I finally grasped a concept that had previously been foreign to me. I remember the dance I did when I finally figured out the chain rule, or learning what a derivative really means and letting out a huge "ohhhhh" in the middle of Physics lecture, or when my ex borrowed my textbook the first weekend of my 10 credit summer of organic chemistry and made me flash cards for all of the reactions I'd need for 1 and 2 so that I wouldn't feel overwhelmed. They could have been cue cards for a Swahili news program at that time, but I remember when the symbols started taking on actual meaning. What an amazing feeling that was!
I miss that tests had correct answers and that, with the exception of marks on essays, grades were pretty black and white. I especially miss multiple choice tests. I miss educated guessing, or choosing B and moving on when I was completely stumped, or being able to skip a challenging question and being able to return to it if time allowed.
I miss structured learning, that sense of security (validity notwithstanding) that grasping the material in the textbook meant mastery of the subject; that once there was a book and a syllabus there was a very finite range that could reasonably be expected in order to succeed.
I miss curves. I miss boosts that accounted for general and widespread imperfections. I miss extra credit questions, just because. I miss trying to figure out with my classmates who broke the curve (even when I already knew it was me). I miss extra points for participation, that just showing up meant something. (Though, as an aside, I do not miss forced attendance to Friday lectures.)
I miss concretely knowing where I stood. I miss rosters with scores next to them. I miss calculating how well I'd have to do on the final to get the grade I wanted by using the weighted average specific to the class. I miss progress being as cut and dry as a single letter in thick red ink.
I miss how simple it was to be classified a "good student".
I miss the sense of satisfaction that I was working toward something rather than just floating about and waiting for the next 'something' to arrive.
I miss the perfectly highlighted page.
I miss open book tests, take home exams, papers and the one page of equations allowed in Calculus, Physics, Statistics, etc. I miss the answers all being as easy as knowing where to find them.
But, why?
There are still plenty of concepts foreign to me. I can choose my own path, my own books. I can abandon a book midway through if I so choose, or a topic entirely. I can work on my own projects, my own passions without #2 pencils, scantrons and someone looking over my shoulder to make sure I'm not cheating. I can graffiti pages in all the highlighter I choose. All of it can be important, or none of it, whatever.
In my life I've heard people saying they miss abusive relationships, addiction, crappy family environments, prison, even homelessness. I've always thought that to be insane. Who doesn't prefer freedom?
So why would I miss limitations?
Maybe because I haven't given myself a syllabus or the right learning materials. Maybe because I know I won't do the work without consequences to my inaction. Maybe I never properly learned to cope with uncertainty. Maybe I miss being externally challenged. Or maybe I'm just that tough of a grader. . .
Thursday, April 21, 2011
My dream last night - 4/21
I had this dream last night that really got me thinking. It involved me and someone who I have meditated about recently, sending energy into the universe with the intention of sharing time, and trust, and commonality with this individual. (Who it is is irrelevant, this person has just been on my mind and I think that's why the dream presented itself as it did. Nothing more.)
The dream begins with me sitting at the computer. I have a lot of tabs open and two Venti Starbucks cups on the desk, keyboard in my lap, my chair leaned all the way back. (All key indicators that I am hard at work on a task I am relishing.) I was talking to myself, but I don't remember what I was saying.
Then he is blindfolded in an airport, and I'm sitting on a mid sized piece of luggage a few feet away, smiling.
After that, the dream becomes this montage of amazing, personal experiences clearly centered around what I would interpret a fantasy trip for him to be. I was having a great time as well, but, as we are all human, I think most people will get my point without going on about that. I kept looking at him, looking into his face. I was getting this overwhelming feeling like he was a stranger, because his expression was hollow. Excursion of a lifetime, still there was no joy, or peace, or gratitude in his face. He could have been alone at a supermarket contemplating which paper towels to buy and been more engaged. (This is why the identity is not discussed, I'm not going to hold anyone accountable for their state of being in my dream.)
And the more indifferent he was, the more furious I became. Ruining my own time. Giving him the consent to rile me in indescribable ways. I threw a vase of calla lillies, the vase was unharmed but the flowers shattered.
--
At first my interpretation was "you feel undervalued". I left it there. There was still a nagging feeling though that this needed to be reconsidered. "By who?" I asked myself. Turns out, I'm not all that sure which character was meant to represent me.
--
There are times when I don't feel very grateful for myself. I do a lot for me. I am taking this journey for me. I never really allow myself to want for anything. I have invested a great deal of time and resources in my education and personal fulfillment. I give myself everything. I value my health on all levels. I love little more than the sight of my own smile. I experience joy when I'm happy and bliss when I'm joyful. And yet, I don't express gratitude nearly enough. I am frustrated by looking at a hollow self staring back at me. Rather than pushing the issue though, I instead look for gratitude in the outside world. I am not shy about communicating to my friends about what is missing or what is needed in our interpersonal relationships. This honesty has cost me people, yes, admittedly I sometimes lack the appropriate tact for that conversation, but that's another issue. My point is, why have I not sat me down and told me this is unacceptable until today?
Compounding my frustration is that I also don't seek help from others when I can at all avoid it. There are so many people out there who would rather something be freely done for them or given to them than to do it, get it, earn it themselves. I'm all for trading resources, bartering, all of that to fill in areas of skill and knowledge gaps, no one is an island. But I feel like the people who shout "Help Me" the loudest are typically the first ones out the door when those words are so much as uttered by someone else. I used to be very against those people, I considered them selfish and toxic, but after considering it they have my sympathy and I meditate for their empowerment, it's typically a weakness and/or a lack of confidence more than a malevolent desire to get over on people. At any rate, in an effort to never be that person myself I try to carry as much of my own weight as I can. I tell myself that it will make me stronger rather than expressing thanks. That needs to stop.
William Arthur Ward penned "God gave you 86,400 seconds today. Have you used one to say Thank You?" I'm going to take a lesson from my dream and use more of mine that way.
Thank you for reading. :-)
Share your divinity,
Kimberly
The dream begins with me sitting at the computer. I have a lot of tabs open and two Venti Starbucks cups on the desk, keyboard in my lap, my chair leaned all the way back. (All key indicators that I am hard at work on a task I am relishing.) I was talking to myself, but I don't remember what I was saying.
Then he is blindfolded in an airport, and I'm sitting on a mid sized piece of luggage a few feet away, smiling.
After that, the dream becomes this montage of amazing, personal experiences clearly centered around what I would interpret a fantasy trip for him to be. I was having a great time as well, but, as we are all human, I think most people will get my point without going on about that. I kept looking at him, looking into his face. I was getting this overwhelming feeling like he was a stranger, because his expression was hollow. Excursion of a lifetime, still there was no joy, or peace, or gratitude in his face. He could have been alone at a supermarket contemplating which paper towels to buy and been more engaged. (This is why the identity is not discussed, I'm not going to hold anyone accountable for their state of being in my dream.)
And the more indifferent he was, the more furious I became. Ruining my own time. Giving him the consent to rile me in indescribable ways. I threw a vase of calla lillies, the vase was unharmed but the flowers shattered.
--
At first my interpretation was "you feel undervalued". I left it there. There was still a nagging feeling though that this needed to be reconsidered. "By who?" I asked myself. Turns out, I'm not all that sure which character was meant to represent me.
--
There are times when I don't feel very grateful for myself. I do a lot for me. I am taking this journey for me. I never really allow myself to want for anything. I have invested a great deal of time and resources in my education and personal fulfillment. I give myself everything. I value my health on all levels. I love little more than the sight of my own smile. I experience joy when I'm happy and bliss when I'm joyful. And yet, I don't express gratitude nearly enough. I am frustrated by looking at a hollow self staring back at me. Rather than pushing the issue though, I instead look for gratitude in the outside world. I am not shy about communicating to my friends about what is missing or what is needed in our interpersonal relationships. This honesty has cost me people, yes, admittedly I sometimes lack the appropriate tact for that conversation, but that's another issue. My point is, why have I not sat me down and told me this is unacceptable until today?
Compounding my frustration is that I also don't seek help from others when I can at all avoid it. There are so many people out there who would rather something be freely done for them or given to them than to do it, get it, earn it themselves. I'm all for trading resources, bartering, all of that to fill in areas of skill and knowledge gaps, no one is an island. But I feel like the people who shout "Help Me" the loudest are typically the first ones out the door when those words are so much as uttered by someone else. I used to be very against those people, I considered them selfish and toxic, but after considering it they have my sympathy and I meditate for their empowerment, it's typically a weakness and/or a lack of confidence more than a malevolent desire to get over on people. At any rate, in an effort to never be that person myself I try to carry as much of my own weight as I can. I tell myself that it will make me stronger rather than expressing thanks. That needs to stop.
William Arthur Ward penned "God gave you 86,400 seconds today. Have you used one to say Thank You?" I'm going to take a lesson from my dream and use more of mine that way.
Thank you for reading. :-)
Share your divinity,
Kimberly
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Hybrid entry - 4/16
I'm coming of age
to turn the page
put the past behind me
and not let
regret
find me
Write my life's tome
upon my thrown
make my dad's issues his own
let him reap what he has sown
alone
Put all former abuse
to a far better use
and tell a painful ruse
it's no longer my muse
Shed the tired
for inspired
disregard how the 'admired'
say I'm hardwired
See all I can see here
I was never supposed to be here
But the world it can not scold me
it never told me
Make Echo's final fleeting kiss
not to a dream of Narcissus
but to the lips of one deserving
bestowing love and still self serving
Love to my capacity
let wu-wei trump tenacity
give up the opacity
for things that come more naturally
stop defending the ascension
transcend all the pretension
let me one small voice
rejoice
by choice
and roar
and soar
and lifetimes more
Lividity yields to lucidity
and I am finally free
to be
me.
to turn the page
put the past behind me
and not let
regret
find me
Write my life's tome
upon my thrown
make my dad's issues his own
let him reap what he has sown
alone
Put all former abuse
to a far better use
and tell a painful ruse
it's no longer my muse
Shed the tired
for inspired
disregard how the 'admired'
say I'm hardwired
See all I can see here
I was never supposed to be here
But the world it can not scold me
it never told me
Make Echo's final fleeting kiss
not to a dream of Narcissus
but to the lips of one deserving
bestowing love and still self serving
Love to my capacity
let wu-wei trump tenacity
give up the opacity
for things that come more naturally
stop defending the ascension
transcend all the pretension
let me one small voice
rejoice
by choice
and roar
and soar
and lifetimes more
Lividity yields to lucidity
and I am finally free
to be
me.
Friday, April 15, 2011
The last few days
So a very important lesson just clicked over the last few days, that actually I've been learning for a while I suppose, but I think it just finally hit me.
I wanted to find a really deep quote for this, but nothing expressed it exactly, so I'm going with my own metaphor. People who genuinely care about you and your well being are like a great pair of pantyhose. They're supportive just where you need them to be and they don't run.
I have always taken myself too seriously. When I have something important to share but I don't know how it will be received I almost always (while sober) err on the side of silence. I would rather most people know almost nothing about me than to think even for a moment that I am damaged. I really don't know why I held on to that as long as I have. Most of the people I love in my life have a ton of battle scars. Why is it 'character' on people I love but damage when it's a part of me? Because I've never put trust in the people closest to me to love me because of (rather than in spite of) my insanity, issues, character flaws, quirks and just overall all human nature bullshit.
The irony is, in trying to be the me I want to be rather than the me I currently am, I've lost more people than if I would have had I just been my genuine authentic self in the first place. On top of that, when people did choose to run I don't think it would have hurt as much, because I would have either not chosen those people in the first place or at least not been left to wonder 'what if I had just been more open'.
In the last three weeks, I have been as honest as possible. I have opened up to friends about experiences that I would have never shared in the past. I spoke openly about my breakdown last year. I have been more open to new people and new life situations. I have tactfully removed venom from some scathing words (a known defense mechanism for this individual) to reveal probably one of the greatest compliments ever bestowed upon me. I rallied a small crowd after a particularly sad life event and had a man come into the ladies room and hold my hair while I paid homage to the porcelain deities after the Jameson fairy was extra generous. I have publicly sung new songs completely out of my range because I wanted to, playfully hung furry hand cuffs from my car's rear view mirror, enlisted help at work when I needed to add voices to my cause. Every aspect of my life, I've welcomed the world into with open arms.
And I've gotten more invites, more "I love you"s, felt more valuable and gotten more support than I have in years.
I have had so many moments of bliss over this past week where another version of me would have worried about judgements, about speculation that I'm not perfect.
Guess what. . . I'm not.
And anyone who thinks any less of me, please keep silent on your way out. Your judgment of me is none of my damn business.
For all of you who know who you are, heart on my sleeve and spirit in my soul. Thank you. I love you!
Share your Divinity,
Kimberly
I wanted to find a really deep quote for this, but nothing expressed it exactly, so I'm going with my own metaphor. People who genuinely care about you and your well being are like a great pair of pantyhose. They're supportive just where you need them to be and they don't run.
I have always taken myself too seriously. When I have something important to share but I don't know how it will be received I almost always (while sober) err on the side of silence. I would rather most people know almost nothing about me than to think even for a moment that I am damaged. I really don't know why I held on to that as long as I have. Most of the people I love in my life have a ton of battle scars. Why is it 'character' on people I love but damage when it's a part of me? Because I've never put trust in the people closest to me to love me because of (rather than in spite of) my insanity, issues, character flaws, quirks and just overall all human nature bullshit.
The irony is, in trying to be the me I want to be rather than the me I currently am, I've lost more people than if I would have had I just been my genuine authentic self in the first place. On top of that, when people did choose to run I don't think it would have hurt as much, because I would have either not chosen those people in the first place or at least not been left to wonder 'what if I had just been more open'.
In the last three weeks, I have been as honest as possible. I have opened up to friends about experiences that I would have never shared in the past. I spoke openly about my breakdown last year. I have been more open to new people and new life situations. I have tactfully removed venom from some scathing words (a known defense mechanism for this individual) to reveal probably one of the greatest compliments ever bestowed upon me. I rallied a small crowd after a particularly sad life event and had a man come into the ladies room and hold my hair while I paid homage to the porcelain deities after the Jameson fairy was extra generous. I have publicly sung new songs completely out of my range because I wanted to, playfully hung furry hand cuffs from my car's rear view mirror, enlisted help at work when I needed to add voices to my cause. Every aspect of my life, I've welcomed the world into with open arms.
And I've gotten more invites, more "I love you"s, felt more valuable and gotten more support than I have in years.
I have had so many moments of bliss over this past week where another version of me would have worried about judgements, about speculation that I'm not perfect.
Guess what. . . I'm not.
And anyone who thinks any less of me, please keep silent on your way out. Your judgment of me is none of my damn business.
For all of you who know who you are, heart on my sleeve and spirit in my soul. Thank you. I love you!
Share your Divinity,
Kimberly
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Progress not perfection
I've taken a few steps back today. I think it's human and to be expected. I'm trying to not beat myself up over it. I almost didn't want to write about it. I was trying to suppress it as 'no big deal' or just something that should be buried away. Truth be told, that would be a even bigger step backwards, to regress to that point in my life where I was afraid to even show the smallest of imperfections. What a sad point that was for me! I remember the crippling pangs of isolation so vividly. It was like wearing a suit of armor on a hot July day at a nude beach and being asked to play volleyball by a whole team of 9 1/2s and your mind just being consumed with all the little scratches the sand would make on the metal.
Anyway. . .
My mind is not in a good place today. My soul got sucked in. My body ate half a pizza and half a box of Girl Scout cookies. (OK, my body truth be told is kind of giving me a high five and explaining that spinach on the pizza and a thin wheat crust means it's good for us, high in iron. She gets a pass.)
My meditation for today did me in, because I may have delved a little deep somewhat unprepared for what I was going to uncover. As it turns out, I resent myself for spending such a long time yielding to my ego. I'm disappointed in all of the time I've spent intentionally making the wrong choices to protect myself from all sorts of imaginary demons without really even checking in first. I'm tired of watching myself not fight for the things that are important, for the aspects of life that matter, because I haven't aligned myself to really even be in the right arena to fight for those things most of the time. I mean, I fought harder against a parking ticket than recently when someone special in my life decided to walk away. That's not acceptable. I've let a false self drive all these years, after I was convinced they knew where they were going and I ended up here.
A quote from Cicero "Any man can make mistakes, but only an idiot persists in his error."
I've been an idiot.
I've proactively given play by plays on the mistakes I would make in an evening. I have been a self-fulfilling prophesy of sabotage for longer than I can even think back.
And I don't know what to do with that.
If I was angry, anger I'm good at working with. Anxiety, even more familiar, I can talk myself off a ledge with the best of them. But, disappointment, I don't know how to handle disappointment. The only experiences I have in dealing with disappointment are deeply rooted way back to childhood and I'm not sure I can count those as 'dealt with' at the end of the day. Even then though I can say, 'deal from within because you can't deal without' or 'don't be affected by other people's decisions, it makes you a victim and that's not you'. But I can't use any of that on this because I did this. I set the fire that took so long to rebuild, I got myself off course, I am the one allowing myself to get away from me. I am the one letting this moment spiral downward. I'm the one looking into the past and not the present moment where I should be getting ready for tonight's birthday festivities.
To make the same mistakes I always do. Cheap shot. I know. Please stop doing that!
I can't do anything about the past, there's a quote eluding me about all the ink in all the world not being able to unwrite a single line of our lives. I have to just accept what's been done. I just have to learn to do better. I don't know how, but it's really the only available option. I don't like this disappointed feeling.
I'm going to start by not eating the other half of those pizza and cookies.
Share your Divinity,
Kimberly
Anyway. . .
My mind is not in a good place today. My soul got sucked in. My body ate half a pizza and half a box of Girl Scout cookies. (OK, my body truth be told is kind of giving me a high five and explaining that spinach on the pizza and a thin wheat crust means it's good for us, high in iron. She gets a pass.)
My meditation for today did me in, because I may have delved a little deep somewhat unprepared for what I was going to uncover. As it turns out, I resent myself for spending such a long time yielding to my ego. I'm disappointed in all of the time I've spent intentionally making the wrong choices to protect myself from all sorts of imaginary demons without really even checking in first. I'm tired of watching myself not fight for the things that are important, for the aspects of life that matter, because I haven't aligned myself to really even be in the right arena to fight for those things most of the time. I mean, I fought harder against a parking ticket than recently when someone special in my life decided to walk away. That's not acceptable. I've let a false self drive all these years, after I was convinced they knew where they were going and I ended up here.
A quote from Cicero "Any man can make mistakes, but only an idiot persists in his error."
I've been an idiot.
I've proactively given play by plays on the mistakes I would make in an evening. I have been a self-fulfilling prophesy of sabotage for longer than I can even think back.
And I don't know what to do with that.
If I was angry, anger I'm good at working with. Anxiety, even more familiar, I can talk myself off a ledge with the best of them. But, disappointment, I don't know how to handle disappointment. The only experiences I have in dealing with disappointment are deeply rooted way back to childhood and I'm not sure I can count those as 'dealt with' at the end of the day. Even then though I can say, 'deal from within because you can't deal without' or 'don't be affected by other people's decisions, it makes you a victim and that's not you'. But I can't use any of that on this because I did this. I set the fire that took so long to rebuild, I got myself off course, I am the one allowing myself to get away from me. I am the one letting this moment spiral downward. I'm the one looking into the past and not the present moment where I should be getting ready for tonight's birthday festivities.
To make the same mistakes I always do. Cheap shot. I know. Please stop doing that!
I can't do anything about the past, there's a quote eluding me about all the ink in all the world not being able to unwrite a single line of our lives. I have to just accept what's been done. I just have to learn to do better. I don't know how, but it's really the only available option. I don't like this disappointed feeling.
I'm going to start by not eating the other half of those pizza and cookies.
Share your Divinity,
Kimberly
Friday, April 8, 2011
My first 3 days
My quest for a healthier mind, body, and soul has gotten off to a fantastic start!
I spent an hour at the gym on Wednesday with a friend of mine I haven't gotten the opportunity to really b.s. with in a while. We played Cash Cab on the treadmill and she remarked that I seemed to be working harder than usual. I am, at all of it, because there's certainly a new level of commitment, a spark, a real desire to make my life better. I'm very pleased that I'm already projecting that energy into the world.
I also took some time to relax and give myself a proper mani-pedi as my 'one thing' yesterday. It was nice to carve out that time to put on my favorite pajamas, light some candles, and do something wonderful for myself.
As for my mind, I attended an amazing lecture Thursday evening, celebrating the life of Andy Warhol through his nephew and fellow artist James Warhola. I really took in the feeling of excitement that I was in the same room as someone so connected to such a genius. At the end, I met James, and we spoke about my falling in love with all things Warhol during a trip to Paris a couple of years ago. How I just happened to be near the Grand Palais at the right time, how an exhibition I nearly missed because I didn't want to go myself nearly cost me a lifetime of loving pop-art, how I would have never been in that place at that moment if it hadn't been for that one day. I asked about his favorite Warhol, he said he always loved the flower pieces. Then he drew me a soup can. Everything is so very connected.
My soul finished and posted a poem I'd been semi working on since Monday and I'm very pleased with it I must say. http://whenwaitingisfilled.blogspot.com/ (for anyone interested). It's fairly raw in the rhythm of it, and I think it's perfect that way.
I also read this wonderful passage on Inspiration that I'd like to share:
"When you are inspired by some great purpose,
some extraordinary project,
all your thoughts break their bonds;
Your mind transcends limitations,
your consciousness expands in every direction,
and you find yourself in a new, great
and wonderful world.
Dormant forces, faculties and talents
become alive, and you discover yourself
to be a greater person by far
than you ever dreamed
yourself to be." - Patanjali
I am in awe of how amazing it feels to be showered with hope. I am my own extraordinary project and wow, does that really give me a lot to look forward to!
This weekend is filled with socializing with friends I don't hang out with as often as I should. I'm definitely looking forward to that too!
Share your Divinity,
Kimberly
I spent an hour at the gym on Wednesday with a friend of mine I haven't gotten the opportunity to really b.s. with in a while. We played Cash Cab on the treadmill and she remarked that I seemed to be working harder than usual. I am, at all of it, because there's certainly a new level of commitment, a spark, a real desire to make my life better. I'm very pleased that I'm already projecting that energy into the world.
I also took some time to relax and give myself a proper mani-pedi as my 'one thing' yesterday. It was nice to carve out that time to put on my favorite pajamas, light some candles, and do something wonderful for myself.
As for my mind, I attended an amazing lecture Thursday evening, celebrating the life of Andy Warhol through his nephew and fellow artist James Warhola. I really took in the feeling of excitement that I was in the same room as someone so connected to such a genius. At the end, I met James, and we spoke about my falling in love with all things Warhol during a trip to Paris a couple of years ago. How I just happened to be near the Grand Palais at the right time, how an exhibition I nearly missed because I didn't want to go myself nearly cost me a lifetime of loving pop-art, how I would have never been in that place at that moment if it hadn't been for that one day. I asked about his favorite Warhol, he said he always loved the flower pieces. Then he drew me a soup can. Everything is so very connected.
My soul finished and posted a poem I'd been semi working on since Monday and I'm very pleased with it I must say. http://whenwaitingisfilled.blogspot.com/ (for anyone interested). It's fairly raw in the rhythm of it, and I think it's perfect that way.
I also read this wonderful passage on Inspiration that I'd like to share:
"When you are inspired by some great purpose,
some extraordinary project,
all your thoughts break their bonds;
Your mind transcends limitations,
your consciousness expands in every direction,
and you find yourself in a new, great
and wonderful world.
Dormant forces, faculties and talents
become alive, and you discover yourself
to be a greater person by far
than you ever dreamed
yourself to be." - Patanjali
I am in awe of how amazing it feels to be showered with hope. I am my own extraordinary project and wow, does that really give me a lot to look forward to!
This weekend is filled with socializing with friends I don't hang out with as often as I should. I'm definitely looking forward to that too!
Share your Divinity,
Kimberly
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Seventy-One Days
Over the past 6 months, I've been doing a lot of rebuilding. And I'm extremely proud of how far I've come to regain myself. Had someone told me April 2010 that within a year I'd be whole again; thriving rather than surviving without the use of medication or human voodoo dolls, I probably wouldn't have believed them, or, would have been in a complete panic about what that year would have entailed.
Now I'm here. And I love it here. But recently, with the rebuilding going so well, the Divine has started raising the bar and throwing signs at me from every direction that the foundation is ready for some additions. It's time to add on to the structure, to make it better, to start knocking down walls and to give everything a fresh coat of paint. It's time to take life to another gear!
About six weeks ago, I started writing again. Not these epic life changing polished works of brilliance, but just ramblings from whenever. It was missing in my life, so I brought it back. I've also started putting it out there, unpolished and imperfect, for the world's eyes. That's been a sore point throughout my life. I'm working on it though. I'm starting to casually reconnect with art as well. I'm going to museums more, I want to try my hand at painting or making my own jewelry. Maybe photography.
A week or two ago I started feeling overwhelmed and I also promised to do one thing every day that I'd been putting off, to make progress one day at a time. My apartment is coming along, I did my taxes, and my car is finally up to date on all its maintenance. It's even clean! I've started a Don't Sweat the Small Stuff journal to identify triggers that still cause anxiety, a deep dive I've never even been in a place to attempt really. Mentally and spiritually things are coming along.
Also about a week or two ago, two skinny co-workers invited me on their "Biggest Winner" team (it's a terrible name, terrible, I'm aware) because they want to do it for fun and need a third person. I was just saying not two weeks prior that that's exactly what I needed, some kind of game to give me a shove to learn to ride a bike or get ready to run the charity 5k I've always wanted to do. Still I wondered if it was the right decision though, to make it a competition, to put structure to improving my physicality. This morning I had a well timed (another sign) health screen at work. I aced it! I was told there that there's a lifestyle questionnaire too and that if I filled it out it would tell me all this great health information and I'd score a 50 dollar gift card. Sweet! I was blatantly honest. It was too. If I don't start making some changes, healthy now or not, I'm not getting old. And I really want to get old. Like feeding pigeons from a park bench wrapped in an Afghan in the Summertime before my 4:00 pm late dinner OLD. Because, after all, what's the alternative?
So over the next 71 days (or more, either way), I'm going to make my first commitment the renovation and improvement of my mind, body and soul. I'm going to also blog about all the random stuff that comes my way and try to include one thing everyday that's going to help me get where I want to go. Today, I did my health screening. I know where the baseline is, and even though I'm a well oiled machine, it's only going to get better.
I hope you'll follow along on my journey. Maybe you'll pay along at home. Let me know if you blog about it too! I can use the inspiration!
Share your Divinity,
Kimberly
Now I'm here. And I love it here. But recently, with the rebuilding going so well, the Divine has started raising the bar and throwing signs at me from every direction that the foundation is ready for some additions. It's time to add on to the structure, to make it better, to start knocking down walls and to give everything a fresh coat of paint. It's time to take life to another gear!
About six weeks ago, I started writing again. Not these epic life changing polished works of brilliance, but just ramblings from whenever. It was missing in my life, so I brought it back. I've also started putting it out there, unpolished and imperfect, for the world's eyes. That's been a sore point throughout my life. I'm working on it though. I'm starting to casually reconnect with art as well. I'm going to museums more, I want to try my hand at painting or making my own jewelry. Maybe photography.
A week or two ago I started feeling overwhelmed and I also promised to do one thing every day that I'd been putting off, to make progress one day at a time. My apartment is coming along, I did my taxes, and my car is finally up to date on all its maintenance. It's even clean! I've started a Don't Sweat the Small Stuff journal to identify triggers that still cause anxiety, a deep dive I've never even been in a place to attempt really. Mentally and spiritually things are coming along.
Also about a week or two ago, two skinny co-workers invited me on their "Biggest Winner" team (it's a terrible name, terrible, I'm aware) because they want to do it for fun and need a third person. I was just saying not two weeks prior that that's exactly what I needed, some kind of game to give me a shove to learn to ride a bike or get ready to run the charity 5k I've always wanted to do. Still I wondered if it was the right decision though, to make it a competition, to put structure to improving my physicality. This morning I had a well timed (another sign) health screen at work. I aced it! I was told there that there's a lifestyle questionnaire too and that if I filled it out it would tell me all this great health information and I'd score a 50 dollar gift card. Sweet! I was blatantly honest. It was too. If I don't start making some changes, healthy now or not, I'm not getting old. And I really want to get old. Like feeding pigeons from a park bench wrapped in an Afghan in the Summertime before my 4:00 pm late dinner OLD. Because, after all, what's the alternative?
So over the next 71 days (or more, either way), I'm going to make my first commitment the renovation and improvement of my mind, body and soul. I'm going to also blog about all the random stuff that comes my way and try to include one thing everyday that's going to help me get where I want to go. Today, I did my health screening. I know where the baseline is, and even though I'm a well oiled machine, it's only going to get better.
I hope you'll follow along on my journey. Maybe you'll pay along at home. Let me know if you blog about it too! I can use the inspiration!
Share your Divinity,
Kimberly
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