Back to Voice

I guess it’s fair to start writing again.  The weather is fair, I mean.  There is enough space for me now.  Terri is gone, though I love her.  And I have a pass to the Elks club which is my little piece of peace.  And I actually read something –for pleasure!—yesterday. 

A MFA in writing sounds like a ton of fun.  What that gets you, though, I’m not sure.  Who the hell cares?

By “gets you” I mean, what kind of life-success, what kind of pay you might make, whether you’ll live in a nice house or rent a shitty little apartment the rest of your life.  So I guess I do kind of care.

I’m ready to find my voice again.  It will not be as full of wonderment and hope as it once was, and I think I was waiting endlessly for that voice to return before returning to writing.  But no, who I am now will just have to do.  And maybe, just maybe, the hope of old will seep back into my bones and I will feel nourished.  Maybe.

There’s a cat that lives right outside the place that I love.  She is old, maybe 10 years and looks it—her paws are calloused, with a pinky toe on her left hind paw splayed out sideways (maybe broken).  She is black and white with green eyes that are dark and lined with milky grey cataracts and her mouth doesn’t ever close fully.  She looks a little funny with her jaw ajar like that, like she’s always a little bit stunned at something.

But it is her greeting that I count on into the place I love and when I leave.  We have some sort of connection that I did not ask for, but I certainly hoped for.  When I first saw her at a distance and called her over to me and she came, I was delighted.  When she sat with me on the concrete pathway and rolled over to let me scratch her dirty white belly I was surprised.  When the old man with slicked back hair that works at the place I love walked by and told me “she doesn’t do that for anyone,” I was special.  Sometimes I think about whether I will like this place as much as I do without her—especially since she is so old, but that is like saying that a building will be worthless without its doorman.  But it would make every entrance and exit feel empty, and just thinking about it makes me sad.

The place that I love is not a place I would have gone to on my own.  First of all, it’s a club, so you have to come invited by a member anyway.  Second it’s a club, and to me clubs were either hoity-toity and exclusive to people with an exorbitant excess of income or reminiscent of tree houses with paper signs hanging with “NO GIRLS ALLOWED” scribbled in crayon.  Or perhaps the tree house just evolves into the country club with a registration fee of $30,000 as the members get old and fat.  Either way, a club was not a place I belonged.

But past the cat and through the entrance, you immediately notice how run down the place is, like an old hotel on the beach, whose bright peach and turquoise patterned carpets are …realized the cat was a clue—a raggedy cat would have been kicked out or trapped long ago

-Part retirement home part campground
-Musicians and empty tables w/vinyl covered seats on rickety rattan chairs
-An old couple
-Construction workers at the bar w/neon t-shirts, steel-toed tan work boots, thick blue jeans, beer bellies, faded white mustaches

-Danced for them breathe some life—but not too much (blues dances  not ok)

-Swim around the canoes
-Yesterday I swam out to the waves that the surfers catch, something I would have dared not to try but after several days of wanting just went.  The freedom of just being able to swim and swim, no one knowing where you were, no one missing you (at least for a few hours), and endless ocean to swim through was exhillerating. 

First, I learned, or remembered—I think I knew this before but forgot—waves break because there is something there to break them.  I quickly found myself scratched up against the reef around my feet and shins as I was treading, but I simply adjusted to stretching flat and floating on my stomach.  The waves—there is nothing in this world that smells like the white foam of a fresh wave deep in ocean.  It smells different than

It is crisp and light, refreshing, and as you inhale it, even though you may be getting pounded crashing next, the mist fills you and you feel as though you are floating up into the air.

-Sit and read

vent

I am fully aware that each and every person has their own strengths and weaknesses, and that these show themselves in the workplace.  People are by no means all weakness, nor all strength.

Anyhow, that's a disclaimer.  I am frustrated because I get reprimanded for spending extra time fact checking and communicating clearly.  To me, it is better to not say anything than to say something misleading or confusing, especially to a client.

Anyhow, now I am stuck cleaning up the fast, dirty, no-research work of those who reprimand good work....

Chances are, too, that they'll tell me I took way too long doing so.

I have always, always, preferred being the tortoise to being the hare.  I work for a hare though.

My weakness?  I am incapable of sprinting, and so always feel behind, even if I do win the race in the end.

the evil 200

i have to exercise now. 
I've hit the ominous 199 as of this morning.  So wrong to be this big.  I don't feel huge though, but I know I am getting bigger when I look in the mirror.   How did this happen?  two months ago I was 15 lbs lighter.  I know I was stressed with the wedding, etc.  I was also on a higher dosage of meds (by choice). 


It's funny, I've spent all this time telling Noa I'm worried about his weight and his health and now I'm suddenly on the decline myself.  Hm. 

So the other part is I know I need to step it up for us.  We're both waiting for each other to get motivated.  Hrm.  I'm frustrated to have his weight on top of mine, but I'm sure he feels the same way about me. 

Lucky, then that I hit that 199--because I will fight as hard as possible to stay far away from the evil 200, as it is, to me, the sign of defeat.  Of letting laziness take control of me instead of taking control of myself. 

Okey doke.  So we'll work out tonight.  That's a good start.  And tomorrow, I'm walking to work.  Even though I have an 8am call.  So be it.

God bless us as we try to be better.  Please give us your H.S. bump, and may we permanently lose more than the weight--may we lose our laziness and lack of focus as well.  Shed us of that as well as the fat!  And may we seek you daily as part of our discipline.  Amen!

We're married!
And I'm tired!

The wedding was great.  The wedding night was great.  The honeymoon was great.  Everything  is great!  There's just no time to clean, to breathe, to settle with work being so nuts right now.  I'm stressed and exhausted. 

I can't wait until September, when hopefully I can stop running.  That will be good.


Until then, however, I need to focus and fight to push all the way through the finish line.  Off to Tennessee!
peace.

Thursday and such

So I've been trying to ignore it, but I've had these muscular pain points for as long as I can remember, but they come and go.  Last night after returning to halau, I hurt so bad.  My muscles ached like I had the flu, but only in certain areas (trapezeus, base of the head, back and front of the neck, rotator cuff area).  In getting older I have gotten slightly more in touch with my body and what it needs and although I didn't have any strength to do so, I knew my body was begging for some kind of consistent cardio--like a walk.  I laid in my driver's seat of my car for a few minutes contemplating what to do (I was supposed to call Noa to work out), ended up driving over to his place, where with some massage, some aspirin and some dim/peaceful lighting, my muscles began to relax and I started to feel better.  This morning, I awoke to more pain, so when I got to work, I decided to do some research on wth was going on. 

Without a long to-do, I figured out what it was, and that lots of other people have it too.  It's called fibromyalgia. 

What was great to see was that all the remedies that were suggested were things that I have already experience as great pain relievers, even without knowing what was going on in my body.  These things include:
-Exposure to sunlight
-Ice
-Relaxation/stress relief
-Regular exercise!
-The right kind of muscular strength training
-Vitamin D3
-Vitamin B12
-Yoga and stretching
-Anti-depressants

All of these things are things that are so very healing to me.  I realize that by sitting in my office chair for hours daily has hurt me incredibly, and that my gut was right--I need to move, I need to stretch, and I need to be outside.

The mainstream pharmaceutical world is pushing other drugs like lyrica that were originally anti-seizure medications.  The side effects outweigh the pros for me, plus I am not disabled by my pain, just bothered, and I really sense that what I need to fix me is a healthy lifestyle.

As a note, the 3 yoga classes I've been to were the most euphoric and soothing experiences of my life.  It is time to restart that.  Things I hate about yoga are the hippie white people, but I can get over that if it helps me so much.

Having this dx makes helping myself no longer something I can ignore, it brings it front and center as something treatable that I can deal with.  I don't feel sick or sad, in fact I am ecstatic to know that I have the tools to bring my body back to life so to speak. 

Thank you God for this insight!  Help me to live it. 
Thank you for the amazing body that you created!


So today this morning I took some D3 and a multi-vitamin with B12, and then a lunchtime walk down to Ross and back.  I also bought some shoes at Ross but well, never mind that.

Can't seem to focus today.  I should be familiar with this already, this "funk" and it's symptoms.  This should be an easy diagnosis, but I never seem to want to believe it's happening. 

Maybe my "funks" should be reclassified--they're not something to medicate, but they do signal You wanting time with me, a yield sign in my blurry ride.

So maybe I can stop.  I don't know when.  I'm scanning through the rest of my day today and all things to do and I don't see when. 

But I have now.  This is it, I guess.  This is the time to talk to you. 

I'm grateful to not have Christine here on Wednesday afternoons.  Nothing against her at all--just that I don't think I could find peace sharing this space--it is nice to be alone.

There's so much running through my head.  There's work that I don't feel very capable of, work that I just don't want to do, and a lot of fighting to hold on and not let go. 

The only part of me that is willing to let go is the vain side that knows that the more I struggle emotionally, the more weight my body retains, so in order to look my best for the wedding, I best be spiritually and emotionally happy.  That's so stupid, but I consider this issue at least 1x a day.

So instead of all the whats and the whens that clutter my day, I am going to stop to reflect on the whys.  When I graduated college and started work at OHA that was one of my major lessons in corporate work world--don't ask smart questions, or at least ask them sparingly.  The "whys" of what the work is, how efficient the system is are usually so dangerously complex and assinine that you are better off using your time doing anything else than to ask "why".

It's a survival technique but it also stifles the soul.  So there you have it.  Machines don't ask why and that is why they're so g-damned efficient.  They just do.

And I have started to use this technique with everything else in my life.  It works.  I survive.  But I really want to thrive and love, and feel deeply, and worship.  And those things, those require more than just action, they require pause and heart.

And although this survival technique works--every machine breaks down once in awhile.  And to me, that's what my funk, what my depression is.  It's a reminder, a beautiful reminder that I am not a machine, I have a soul.

I have a soul.
God thank you.
I have a soul.
Life is not just stuff to do.  What a waste to do do do do do and never stop and thank, appreciate, and worship.

We need to start to get to church on time, and stop missing the worship.

That's where my voice went too--nowhere, I just stifle it because I'm too busy.  It's still there.  It's been there all the time. 

The "do" side of me wants to figure out how to work in these pauses regularly but so that I have a balance (unlike college where all I really did was walk around and worship).  So instead, I pray, Lord, that you would do that.  You know the perfect balance of all.

That stupid talents parable is haunting me.   If I stop working, I will lose your favor.  Or something like that.  But the spirit in me is saying that I need to stop too.  So how to do both?

There's a lot to write about, a lot to ponder and cherish in my heart.  Like Mary, of course.  There's so much magic that you've been doing that I feel like I've wasted because I don't stop to thank you.  I'm so sorry.

Please know, God, how thankful I am for all the miracles I see you doing.  Please help me to see your hand, your presence, your work even more.  And I pray that as you reveal that, that I might always be quick to stop and worship you.

Noa is fragile and strong and beautiful and when I ponder his soul I am overwhelmed with emotion.  I can't handle such depths and usually try to ignore the beauty of a man you've blessed me with.  Which is so wrong--it's such a sin, I can feel it.  It's like someone laboring hour upon hour to make you a gift and when they give it too you, you respond with a mere "meh".  How awful. 

I am so excited, but I am so scared because it's so new--but not really.  What you are showing me now is what I am really afraid of is losing/forgetting to stop.  Forgetting to worship.  That's what the mid life crisis for me would be about.  It would be this incredible guilt and sadness for all the years I ran forward and never stopped to enjoy.  It wouldn't be a job so to speak, not a career that I never reached for, not even (as much as it sucks to say this) never getting to be outside.  It would be forgetting to worship. 

College was exciting because with every new thing I worshipped.  I was amazed, I was grateful.

Did I get it?  Do I get a point?  Am I on-key here?  And if so, what do I do now?  I know I need mornings with you.  Yep.  Pretty dang sure.

Is it wrong that I am frustrated at how you are still such a mystery? 

God, keep us close to you.  Thank you for teaching me still.  Keep Noa and my heads together bowed before your presence. 

And thank you for uncle Greg and his family's salvation.  Tutu Momi is cheering up there, right??

Please give me good chances for worship and pause, especially going into the wedding!

xoxo
ho'onani

By Your Grace We are Saved

Oh, Jesus.  Thank you, Jesus.  Thank you. (I can hear Tutu Momi's low voice--late night prayers :))

That excitement that I had for LC, the beauty I found there--it wasn't the place, but it was You leading me to see.  So now, I am in your grace, under your hand, walking in faith to a lifelong journey.  This is a big step, but I am just as excited.  I pray that you would guide me in my relationship with Noa just like you did with my time at LC/pdx.

That depth of voice, that awe, that gratefulness.  Thank you for being here with me again.  Thank you for answering my mother's prayers, her mother's prayers, my prayers. 

Today is Ash Wednesday.  I know that the basic just of it is to give something up to get closer to You.  I'm pretty sure you want me to pray for Nana's salvation every day.  I know that's not really "giving up" something in the traditional method, but I think that the humility necessary and the time is something.

Just got props from Catherine and Frank.  Thanks God!

Okay, back to work.  Just wanted to say thank you.

--H