Friday, February 19, 2016

Go with your gut

The gut is the new brain, have you heard?

Control your gut and you control the chemicals and hormones released in your body and brain.
Control the release of chemicals and hormones and you control your feelings and emotions.
Control your feelings and emotions and you control your thoughts.
Control your thoughts and you control your actions.
Control your actions and you control your destiny...

....or something like that.

Go with your gut...
I felt it in my gut...
My gut feeling...

Put the good stuff in...a wide variety and copious amounts.
Flush the bad stuff out. Movement is crucial.

Any serious runner already knows this. Train the lungs to breath deep and fast, the heart to pump effectively strong, the muscles to find stored energy in hidden places...but the gut...the gut is where it's at...the inner most strength. Those critical moments when all else is failing and done, your brain will play tricks on you to find an excuse to give up...compleate justification at the moment.  How bad do you want this? Just on the serface with the latest running gear soaked with sweat, or does it go deeper? Pass the working muscles and it in your gut?

"Let thy bowels be full of charity..., and let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of  God.~Doctrine & Covenants 121:45

Charity in my gut. Is this my inner most desire? A force that can overcome fatigue, brain fog, and a broken heart.

Put the good stuff in.

Flush the bad stuff out.
Let go.
Find His rest.

Go with your gut.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Did it really happen

I fell asleep on the couch this morning after I dropped the kids off at school. In the middle of unpacked boxes and a kitchen buried in last nights dinner and all our life's paper work that still needs to be refiled. My stomach grumbled for my missed breakfast and I slept.

I haven't shaved my legs in three weeks, a record for even me because who has time? 

Not me.

I am buried in projects that can never be finished, things that can never be organized, and of course last nights previously mentioned dinner. 

I broke last night and cried at my kids; I don't think I've done that before. Cried with them, yes. Cried for them, yes. Cried in front of them…but not at them, blaming them for my inadequate self. 

So I slept. Maybe I really needed it, maybe I should have shaved my legs instead, or maybe I just needed an escape into nothing before I go back to everything again.

How long can it take to organize a house anyway? Week three is disappearing fast and here I am still trying to figure it out. It's not just a house after all, it's a home. One great thing about moving is the opportunity to start with a clean slate. Throw out the trash, question new bills and old schedules. Maybe get it right this time. I know it's worth the time.

I think back to a month ago to life in the hotel, or three months ago to life in Colorado and it feels foggy, distant and lost in all the emotion of moving and leaving a home that I didn't know would be a home and hoping that we can find that again. Sometimes making a new home feels disloyal to the old. 

I will always love the old. 

Buried on the couch I dreamt of walking through the woods in the rain (it always rains here) with my kids. As we came through the trees the scene opened up to a fast flowing creek making it's way down from the mountain peaks that were now right before us. The rain had turned to snow and it was beautiful. We turned in circles admiring our new surroundings and I knew it was put there for me. I also  knew it was a dream. I breathed deep, sucking it all in, daring it to be real; to prove itself to me. The snow was soft and cool, my nose was even started to feel cold. I held my kids hands and we turned around one more time as the horizon went flat again. I knew it would and I was grateful anyway. Grateful for that moment and grateful for this moment.

I just want to remember that.

Friday, September 12, 2014

home indeed

The ocean or the mountains;

 I always thought it would be one or the other.

But this…

this sea of trees where the humidity only hides imaginary peaks just out of reach. 

Home is where your rump rests….where your heart is…where your family is…where the soups on…where you park it…where I'm with you…

…home indeed.

No "thing" can make you happy.

Not the right school, not the weather, not a job, not a package in the mail, not the ocean, not the mountains, not even a house. 

I know, because I've been looking for that happy…

…that elusive peak just out of reach.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Time to let go

We went to the ocean this summer. It had been calling me for so long. For a girl who was raised amongst mountain tops I wonder at the deep pull that immense salty place has on my soul. In the mountains I feel at home….they keep me oriented…I know where I am and where I need to go. I love the feeling of looking up at their depth and height and the awe of looking for miles from their towering peaks.

When we lived in the south and there wasn't a hill in sight I often felt desultory….like a stranger roaming and lost. The only comfort was at the ocean, feeling the salt on my skin and the wind on my face. It wasn't the same as my mountains that beg me to climb, to conquer, to be in them…feel the rugged path under my feet and grit under my nails.  I can't swim…not really, and the uncontrolled impulsive power of the waves scares me. Yet there I stand, as long as I can, watching the waves roll and crash; only my feet brave enough to withstand the teasing waves. It soothes my soul, clarifies my thoughts and orients my perspective. Even now as I sit here in my mountain home I feel the pull of the rolling tides.

"The Lord still moves mountains, and still calms the raging seas." I heard in church today.

It made me wonder (but not really wonder) why I find comfort in the things that only God can control.

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Flowers Shmowers

Slow down they say,

Take time to enjoy it they say….

But my feet pound the earth and eyes grapple the horizon and I am revived.

Just because you don't take time to smell the flowers doesn't mean you didn't enjoy the trail.

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Rhythm Recognized

My little one strikes out in anger
fear in motion.

I gather him close.
Wrap him tight, arms full circle
my cheek on his.

I rock him back and forth
His tense body relaxes into mine.
He rocks too...deepening the rhythm.

Physical pressure
controlled rhythm
witness that he is recognized

Later I find myself striking out.
Anger filling my body.
 My smile, my touch, is all it should be
but the battle rips through me
jagged and bloody.

I try to mend it with logic, 
all I know to be real.
Breathe deep, refocus...
tomorrow will be better.
But it still burns.

I cry out
I'm done
I want it gone.

I feel the peace wrap around
music, rhythm rocking me
applying pressure to my spirit
witness that I am recognized

My body relaxes, sways with the melody.
I sleep.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Record the Mark

I have a goal.

Not one of those new year's resolution types.
The kind of goal that has been on my heart my whole life. 
Before I even knew it was there...
it was.

Maturity brought understanding of what I want, brought it into picture, but logically it has felt more like a just a day dream of a possibility...children's' laughter in the distance.

Still...I make plans.

Some goals are all about doing, checking off lists and being done.
This goal feels out of my control, but I am willing.

So I do what I can do now to prepare for the opportunity,
and I pray.

Then, just like that He hears.

A casual kitchen conversation reveals that God works in mysterious ways. The day goes on like nothing happened, but I know....I witnessed hope with my own ears; still my heart is a little slow to celebrate...still cautious weighing reality, own fear.

Still distant, but every step is counts, so I record this mark.

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