Resistance is Futile

In the mornings, I wake up and so often I don’t feel like doing the things. Hence, the coffee or other caffeinated beverage. I don’t feel like working out, putting makeup on, getting dressed – so many things.

Recently, I’ve realized something about this mood I find myself in pretty frequently. It is resistance.

Resistance to the person I am becoming.

Our minds like things to stay the same. We are conditioned for homeostasis. Yet, our souls long for more. We desire change.

But changing is hard.

My mind’s desire for homeostasis creates the “mood” of resistance. I just don’t feel like it. I don’t want to….

These are resistance to what I truly want.

I want to be slim and trim, fit and healthy. I want to write and edit and proof. I want to love my children. I want a clean house. I want the day to start off right. This is who I am. This is the jewel inside the crust of resistance.

First, I must recognize the mood of resistance. Then, I must dis-identify with it. It is not me, but a function of my conditioning to want sameness. This is the process of overcoming resistance.

Easier said then done.



Married with Children

I watch from my solo spot in the café, as an old woman and man come to sit in a booth on the other side of the restaurant. He sits down next to her instead of across the booth from her.

It’s sweet.

I think as parents, my husband and I get lost in the whirl of children. Sitting next to one another isn’t possible, because we must divide and conquer. It’s us against them in a lot of ways.

Not some epic battle, but sort of a low grade struggle of chaos versus order, in which we represent order and they (the children) represent chaos.

Maybe its having four children, being outnumbered, that seems to result in this little clash of wills. Maybe its this way regardless of the number of children you have.

But does it have to be that way?

These days, I find myself embracing the chaos more and more. It isn’t the end of the world if we all have wrinkled clothes. I mean, they smell good so that’s winning to me. It’s not just laundry though.

Its accepting the crying and its domino effect. Sitting still in the whirlwind of outcry and despair, being at peace, that is my latest approach. No rushing to appease, no rushing to scream and discipline. Just sitting still.

Sometimes, I watch my husband do the same thing. We just look at each other sometimes and shake our heads. Maybe that’s our equivalent of the old couple in the booth.

Present to each other, despite the rest of the world.

These Ordinary Days

I am really struggling with the monotony of life these days. Maybe its that we don’t have money for special things or maybe its that we have hindrances to living a normal life. 

There is just nothing special here. 

I feel so wrong, so guilty for saying such a thing. Does it mean I value the people in my life less than I should? Does it mean I’m selfish? Where is the line between self-preservation and self-consumption? How do I care for myself enough and still care for others too?

So many good questions. 

Here is where I am supposed to be the Sherpa and make grand conclusions that enlighten everyone. After all, that is what would make this blog popular. 

I’m not going for popular. I’m going for real. 

I don’t know all the answers. No one does. When life seems the same over and over again, I wonder at the purpose behind it all. Where is the meaning?

Perhaps the truth is that not everything has meaning. Perhaps the truth is that a good portion of life is spent at traffic lights and sleeping and doing things that don’t amount to a full life. Perhaps it’s a bit normal and okay to be sick of the drab parts of life and to feel a bit directionless. 

I want to re-enchant everyday life, but what if everyday life was never enchanted in the first place?

Maybe the key is to do one enchanting thing each day until the enchantment builds on itself. Suddenly, two things are enchanting in my day and then three and so on and so forth. Maybe the key is trying for enchantment, not the enchantment itself. 



The Movement of Standing Still



I feel as though I cycle through these modes endlessly. Some days, I’m adaptable, tolerant. Other days, I’m stiff, immoveable, uncompromising. 

Some days, I am strong. Some days, I am weak. 

Life holds these moments, passing them to and fro. I see it echoed in the movement of the sun over my head, the passing of clouds in and out of view. I see the earth beneath my feet turn to mush, rainy day after rainy day. I see it harden too, baking in that moveable sun. 

Back to the sun. 

The center of the universe. Unchanging, yet volatile. It stands still. From where I stand, it appears the moveable thing. But I am the thing moving, the thing shifting position, even as I stand still. 

All truths are paradoxes, my friend says to me. 

I think she is right. The sun in its great distance, seems to be standing still. Yet, we know it fluctuates in its volatility. I seem to be standing still, but I am moving at the rate of one revolution per day.

Two things I know – I am changeable. I remain the same.




Healthy Thoughts

I don’t feel like writing today. 

I’m not sure I have much to say. I feel good these days. Not too good, because that is a thing that happens to me. Just the right amount of goodness. 

I have that niggling sensation in the back of my mind that something will happen to screw up this goodness. I’ve tried ignoring it, but ignoring is not something I’m good at. I’m one of those people who  literally can’t give the cold shoulder. 

So I’m just acknowledging that its there. I don’t need to grasp it and hold on. I can just let it go. 

Maybe this is the sign of a healthy person – letting go of unhelpful thoughts. 

Am I healthy? 

I’m not sure its helpful to worry and agonize over that one…




I went to the doctor today. 

For the first time in as long as I can remember, I answered ‘no’ to the question. You know, the question about whether I was having suicidal thoughts. 

It felt good. 

He’s a new-ish doctor for me so he didn’t understand that it was a big deal. He doesn’t know how many times I’ve said ‘yes’ to the question. He doesn’t know how many times I’ve lied and said ‘no’. 

The truth is that I’m not depressed right now, anymore. I don’t  remember a time like this. Its a new feeling. 

And I’m waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop. 

Because something is always coming. Something can always go wrong. 

But something might not come or, if it does, I’ll handle it better than I would have before. 

If I could get through all that I’ve gone through, then I can handle what is next. 

I believe this is called resilience. 

For the first time, I am resilient. 



Conquering Fear

Recently, I was given the opportunity to submit my writing to a large church organization for publishing. 

I haven’t done it yet. 

Procrastination, that ominous sign of fear. 

Elizabeth Gilbert says, “All procrastination is fear.” She’s spot on. 

I am afraid my writing won’t be good enough. I’m also afraid it will be good enough and then I’ll have to deal with an editor or writing assignments I don’t like or any number of other things that are challenging about working with others. 

When it comes to my work, I’m an introvert less because of how I gather energy and more because others have burned me in the past. 

Or I’ve allowed myself to be burned. 

You see, that last sentence is a good reminder that I can choose my response. I don’t have to be burned. Instead, I can be hurt and overcome that hurt. I don’t have to be rejected. I can be moving on to other things. 

Perhaps today, I will get on with those submissions.