Sunday Reflection Quote…I’ve always had a sweet palate and choose not to marinate in bitterness. There have been painful growth spurts sprinkled over the last few years; however, an intentional mindset of gratitude and grit has made the difference. Thankful, indeed.
Sunday Reflection Quote…Memories old and new, thought provoking conversations, stretch experiences, and personal challenges have rounded out the last two weeks of summer break. As I’ve listened and observed, the beauty in others has been revealed. Thus, a realization has been confirmed…Rather than seeking acceptance and approval, I just need to be me, as I am and wish to seem. We all have our nuances and idiosyncrasies. For that, I am thankful.
Sunday Reflection Quote…Thankfully “being at peace” continues. I’m realizing getting out of my own way has set me free. Conquering my fears, taking reasonable chances (golf/poker/teaching/social endeavors), communicating clearly, setting boundaries, and choosing how I spend my time has been a quiet victory.
Sunday #reflection#quote…I am the architect of my life actively tearing down stubborn, useless walls in order to resurrect a strong foundation of my OWN extending to new heights.
An acquaintance recently said, “Don’t you know what a catch you are?! Great things are in store for you; you’re going places!” Chicago opened my eyes confirming the sentiments and endless possibilities.
I sense in my bones all of my determination to rebuild my life will open brand new doors, which may involve a different career path, residency, or life experiences. I’m gradually erasing the track of self-doubt playing in my head and laying down a new rhythm.
Sunday morning (well, evening) #reflection#quote…I continue to discover and reveal who I am regarding my personality, goals, and desires. Up to this point, the majority of my life has been lived for others–their expectations, filter, and box.
Lifting the facade and breaking through has been liberating in a multitude of ways. For me, a weight has been lifted, a bunch of pressure extinguished, and I’m having a hell of a lot of fun.
Being me, just me, wherever the setting may be is rewarding and a variety of doors are opening. Exciting times!
Back in my moccasin and penny loafer days in high school, my best friend asked if I ever wore sneakers. She said this with a hint of judgment meaning “Don’t you ever dress down?” I didn’t, unless I had a specific purpose such as playing a sport, or wearing grubby ones for yard work or camping.
However, there was a short stint during middle school where wore sneakers on a regular basis. They were a navy blue pair of high top Converse, which was a big to-do for my family to purchase. Mom wanted to know why a girl would want such “ugly boy shoes.” Dad was concerned about the quality of canvas and the price tag attached. After much cajoling, the box made it home. I wore my Cons almost daily with pride. Those shoes were a snapshot capturing a moment when I finally got my way and satisfied a longing for “Cool.” For once I was wearing something name brand and I felt in sync with the style of the time. The Cons made it about three years through the wear and tear of a teenager. By the time they were reluctantly placed into the garbage, there were small holes, random doodle designs, and crossed out names of crushes dancing along the sole.
A pair of indoor soccer shoes used for just one season from several years ago still occupy the farthest corner of my closet. I can’t seem to part with them. They represent a time when I played games at 10:00 at night, sweated profusely, and felt that athletic high. I had war stories to share the next day of jammed toes and ripped fingernails from being slammed into the Plexiglas wall and bruises worn with pride. They reflect a time of aggression, release, and belonging to an unlikely team of all female elementary teachers.
Life speeds by and before we know it, we’re looking back more often than looking ahead. Somehow, I feel like these thoughts should be happening thirty years from now, rather than at the age of thirty-three. I wonder why at the moment does it seem insignificant, but looking back it is exactly what I long for? Why is there a desire to capture the simple things, but a hesitation to establish or recognize new ones? Perhaps that is the beauty in it all, random events versus forced. The lack of simplicity coupled with escalating complexity has created a silent discontent within my own life. Finding the brake to slow this ride eludes me. Occasionally, there is a lull, but the momentum quickly builds, leaving me scrambling once again seeking the eventual stop I know is out there.
As a child, everyday normal to even boring events seemed to be a constant occurrence. One doesn’t realize that those snippets over time actually mount up to a nugget of significance; a time of uniqueness that would be difficult to duplicate, only cherished. During my childhood there were simple things initiated by my family or myself, which created an experience now savored.
Summers were filled with handstands in swimming pools or lakes; I wasn’t one to discriminate. There was something soothing about viewing the underwater world upside down; chubby belly hidden by the water and clumsy legs exposed to the sun. I would do my best to gracefully keep my legs together and point toes towards the sky like a ballerina, but I knew the result continued to be a wobbly V shape. My parents would compliment my performance each time, as if improvement was really being made. They knew all was good; the joy of a simple handstand after handstand would fill the afternoon. Read More »