These past six weeks have been a crash-course in learning about what the word “community” really means.
I’ve been silent these past months, not by choice but because grief, depression, and crippling anxiety attacks have rendered me immobile. I have felt stationary – unable to muster basic interest in most things besides sleeping, reading, and endlessly scrolling through social media feeds. I’ve still pushed myself everyday; I’ve still gotten out of bed and gone to work, but that in and of itself has caused anxiety as I question my ability to do my job, my career choices, and my prospects for the future.
I’m going to confess up front that I’m riding a wave of nostalgia right now. It’s sharp, it’s somewhat piercing, and the memories are sometimes so sweet that they make me ache.
I created a Facebook group last night to spur conversation for my graduating high school class’ upcoming 20th year reunion next summer, so my mind is, for the most part, awhirl with memories of life in and around the small town of Hanover, Indiana. This morning on the hour-long ferry commute into Seattle, I pulled out the latest issue of MaryJanesFarm magazine, which is almost a spiritual text to me in its place of importance in my life, and discovered that this particular issue is all about chickens and eggs, with adorable ducks making a few appearances because Mary Jane is, obviously, a genius.
Chickens and ducks – namely the waddling waterfowl – send me right back into my spiral of whimsy.
Author’s note: Post started on 11/12 and finished on 11/14…
The past few weeks have been a flurry of activity, book-ended by mornings that start long before the sun comes up and end hours after it’s already set (which here in the Pacific northwest is at about 4:30pm right now!) During these busy times, I’ve learned a few lessons that I’ve been reflecting on today, which happens to be not only a day when I’m stuck at home with bronchitis while a wind storm rages outside my door, but also my 36th birthday.
When preparing to move, rooting through boxes of crap is inevitable. You find things like your high school yearbooks, which you haven’t looked at in years because you’re friends with most of those people on Facebook anyway. You find your collection of New Kids on the Block memorabilia from when you were just a kid, and your husband urges you to throw it all away, only to receive a heated glare because your Joe McIntyre doll isn’t going anywhere. Continue reading “Materializing memories”
Tim and I have 90% of our conversations about religion in the car. Not sure why it happens that way, but when we’re heading somewhere is when, inevitably, the conversation turns to religion. Continue reading “If the spiritual journey is like a winding road, I’m stuck on a bypass…”
I thought about doing a reflective, sentimental year-in-review, but then I said, “ahh, forget it!” and decided to just highlight my favorite things of the past year. (I’m leaving the sentimentality to the last paragraph!) This is going to be a hodgepodge of real life and pop culture and just about everything else, but these are the things that made 2013 fun for me:
Growing up, I was a witness to my parents bickering about religion.
Continue reading “Where do we go from here?”