Tuesday, April 9, 2013

calling

We talked about "calling" in our community group on Sunday. We talked about it in a vocational sense and in a broader sense. Vocationally, I feel it in my belly that I'm supposed to be a mom (not in a pregnant way). I think I'm good at being a manager because I'm bossy yet loving, but I don't want to do it forever.

In a broader sense, I have always felt the need to be honest. I have not always been honest, but I've seen and felt the healing that comes from telling the truth. Someone once told me that I was a "fixer" who always had to "fix" things. And perhaps so, but that need has grown I think, into hopefully something a little more loving.

I have learned through marriage that other people do it (marriage) differently and I'm not a marriage counselor. I'm sure I'll learn the same thing about parenting when I have kids and more of my friends have kids. I told myself at the beginning of the year that I wanted to work on deepening my relationships. I deleted my facebook, which I think has helped my relationship with my husband a bit. And I wanted to make a point of having those tough conversations with people I love rather than hoping things will blow over.

Just Sunday, I got my feelings hurt by my dear friend. I didn't want to respond immediately because I couldn't quite put my finger on why I was upset. Monday morning I shot a quick email just saying, "hey, I'm hurt by this, and I love you," and within five minutes I got a phone call. "Hey, you at work?... let me in... Let me in! I'm at the front door." I go to the front door of my store and let my friend in. We hugged and cried and said I love you. And then hugged some more.

It's too easy to sit around and stew over things, and then put that cloud of yuck around those people who you chose not to talk to about whatever the issue, and assume assume assume. It turns your heart black.

As far as the "fixer" issue goes... the other night I was sitting around a table of musicians practicing for our show next week. Concert. Show. I don't know lingo. Regardless, one of them set a pen on the table. Music was playing - guitar, drum, banjo, and trombone. The pen started to roll toward the edge of the table... I sat and stared at it, humming along, and peacefully fought (?) the strong desire to say loudly over the musical instruments "ERR!! Blaaa... yer pen!" It quietly rolled off the table, the guy leaned down to pick it up, and set it back on the table so it wouldn't roll off again. I didn't implode. Practice wasn't ruined. My mind smiled. I have control issues, if you didn't know.

Which is another reason why when people don't get enough sleep and they continue to get sick and eat unhealthily, I want to punch them in the throat. I'm a jerk.

Friday, Tyler and I are going to Sump, which is a very serious coffee shop in the city. I think it's probably similar to Double Shot, but I won't know until we go! From there, we're going to Springfield, MO to spend the weekend with the Stewarts. I'm pumped. Two more days of work.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Easter, rituals, life.

Easter was a great day. And not just because I got back on Instagram :)

Sometimes I have meaningful things to share, at least they're meaningful to me, but I'm like "Ah, it won't come out right. I'll just talk about my dogs and work and digestion."

This morning after I taught yoga, I asked a student what she did for a living. She told me, and then she said she didn't really like it. I said, "What do you want to do?" and she told me she wanted to write. We talked about writing and blogs. She said that most blogs have a purpose - like "I'm not going to go shopping for a year, read about my white, middle class life," or tell some story.

In the past I've tried separating things, like this is my life blog and then I'll have a food blog. Eventually the food blog turned into a poop blog, which then turned into a life blog. I can't separate things.

But anyway. Easter Sunday we woke up and went to the sunrise service at the river. It was beautiful. Our friend Joel lead it. We dipped toasty warm lechem into wine. He said how the women, about 2,000 years ago, were going to the tomb about that time to find that Jesus wasn't there and that His clothes were neatly folded - the first act of order after the Resurrection. It felt so historical and so meaningful. These things are real, not just myths or old stories. And the chill in the air, the clouds, the birds chirping, all of these things were real back then too.

A few days before Easter we were a part of a Seder meal. It was incredible. I got the same feeling during that meal - the feeling of being a part of a story. People have been eating this meal and drinking this wine for thousands of years. The leader would say, "Had you only rescued us from Egypt," and we would all respond "De Yanu," which means "it would have been enough." And the list went on. By the end of the meal I was overwhelmed with gratefulness and purpose. I love the idea of rituals, but I don't really have many. I think I got burned out on them growing up, perhaps (though I'm not even sure what they were), but they really do soften your heart. I totally believe that habitual actions can change your heart/mindset.

Tyler and I went to breakfast after the sunrise service, where I posted my first Instagram photo in 40 days. Big deal, I know. Sorry. We went to church at 10:30. I wore jeans, a dark purple button up, a brown cardigan, and sandals. My sweet friend said, "You look so pretty. Like Annie Hall. Have you seen that movie? She dresses like a man for the most part... in a hot way!" After that I kept my legs crossed and tried to look feminine.

Easter afternoon we played Kan Jam in the park with our friends. It was perfect. Oh, that sweet friend that called me a hot man... when we were playing Kan Jam I tossed the frisbee to her and it tapped her in the back of the head. I was so upset. Like, one time I was pushing a grocery cart and I rammed it into my dad's Achilles tendon. I hurt him, and it hurt me. So I hate hurting people on accident. It's like, "Ah! I was trying to do something else and it didn't work and now I've hurt the person I love." Anyway, she was like, "I'm fine. Not a big deal." A few minutes later she said, "Shannon, you're body language is telling me that you're really upset. Are you okay?" and I love that about her. I hadn't forgiven myself yet for throwing a frisbee at the back of her head. But she helped me do that.

I'm in a band at church called Desert Voices. I'd prefer to be called The Refuge Band, or something (my church is called Refuge Church). Anyway, we practice on Thursday nights at 8:45. That's the time I normally start finishing my chamomile tea and getting ready for bed. Regardless, we will be opening for Page CXVI when she comes to town 4/19. You should listen to her if you can. She's great.

Things at work are tougher than normal, but hopefully after our sale they will settle down and we can get things back to normal. I'm extremely short staffed, which means I just get to work more. It's hard to find decent applicants. I called a guy yesterday for an interview and when I got to his voicemail, I couldn't understand a word he said. Communication is key when you work in customer service, so I panicked. His voicemail beep happened really quick and I left a message anyway. I'm done being nice to applicants. If he comes back in and I can't understand what he's saying, I will not go through the full interview, and later use the "I went with another applicant" reason. I will stop the interview short and say, "Sir, I'm going to be honest with you. This interview is over because I am having a hard time understanding you." People need to know!

Life goes on. I'm busy. I'd like to be a little less busy at some point.

Last story. I woke up at 5 to teach yoga yesterday. I came home and fell asleep. Throughout the morning I would wake up, and then go right back to sleep. This happened until 12:56 pm, and I was supposed to go into work at 1. It takes me about 17 minutes to get there. I was so cloudy and befuddled. It was so strange.

Time to eat some cheese.