Authenticity

A sidenote to those of you that don't really know me - I love reading for more reasons than I can possibly name and one of them is that reading so often is the spark to inspiration. It can give you an idea or thought or word or phrase that will carry you through the day, brighten it, change your attitude, give you a new perspective and make a color that you always thought was just blue, is now cerulean. I read a simple post this morning, no more than three paragraphs long with a description of the writer's grandmother. She said that "she thinks what she says and says what she thinks." At first, I thought she was simply trying to be poetic and fill space and stretch out the well-known phrase "saying what you think." However, it stuck with me and struck a cord. What does it mean to think what you say? We all say a lot of things: "I'd like to run a marathon someday," "I am an informed voter," "I love your hair!" but how often do we really mean the things we say? I know I have certainly fallen victim to the ease of saying something to please a person or please a crowd or please myself and there have been countless times that I have not thought what I have said. I was playing a part. And yes, I know we all play parts, but what would our lives be like if we truly thought what we said? Would we be truer to ourselves? Would the fair weather friends sink back and the true and steadfast ones rise up? Would we be happier? I met a new friend recently and as most new introductions go, we told our stories. Inevitably and I'm not sure how, I always get to the subject of marriage and children. It is probably due to the fact that I am getting older and there are expectations for people my age (oh Bridget Jones, how apt you were). I told this new friend exactly how I felt. I do not want children. I do not believe I will ever get married. I don't judge those that do, I applaud them and purchase them gifts as society demands. And, I am not too silly of a person to not know that I am still relatively young and acknowledge that my opinions on such matters very well may change. As I was standing on my soap box, I realized just how far I had come. Many moons ago, on similar such introductions or first dates or "get-to-know-you-gatherings" or holidays spent with family, I would skirt around my feelings, hoping to not hurt feelings or risk losing a potential date or friend. This new friend, in my mid-twenties, showed me just how little I am willing to sacrifice my own authenticity for their approval. I am me - take it or leave it. I am secure enough on my own to follow my own feet and say what I think (mostly)...

Chasing Minutes

I have this terrible tendency to hit the snooze button three, four, sometimes eight times totaling more than an hour slept past my intended waking time. This morning however, I woke to its 7:25 ring, and a short text right after that telling me my sister was sick and unable to make training this morning. I thought for a second how lovely it would be to get an extra hour of sleep so texted the trainer to see if he wanted me solo or just push it til next week. He wanted a workout himself so we decided to skip. I have a very long day ahead of me today - two jobs, a meeting with a friend to feed her dogs before she goes away on her honeymoon, bank and bill paying. So it was incredibly tempting to rest a little while longer. But I didn't. I got up and went for a quick run - only two miles because the changing of the seasons has me short of breath. And then I used the empty room that used to be ours for some yoga. Coffee and homemade breakfast followed and here I sit. Writing this blog. Most days, even the most event-less, I find myself chasing the minutes, unable to fit all the things I want (or need) to do before I have to run off somewhere else. But more often than not - minutes can be found lurking just on the other sides of the comforter, or inside the coffee mug made at home instead of at the drive through Starbucks. I am already planning all manner of things for tomorrow but will take this peaceful morning as a reminder that I can find a moment to be still, write, and prepare for the day. This calm will help me carry on.

Mist

It has been five in the evening for the last thirty six hours or so. The light has stayed the same, a dusty gray that is soaked through with a mist that doesn't penetrate but gives the feeling of dampness to everything - even inside. The air is chilled, the leaves are turning. My dishes have been done almost as soon as they have been used. I baked bread. I went to sleep without crying last night, drowsy before the clock struck nine but unable to focus on the criticism I am supposed to cross reference with my thesis. I am set firmly in between loving this change and chill and shaded light and the desire to leave it behind for the place in the South where I hope my voice will be cheerier or at the very least - less strained and tired. I am less than three months away from this change, one that I am trying to prepare for, but not. What changes are you all making (or avoiding) today?