A Package, A Puppy and A Purse

I believe I experienced my first runner's high today. It had absolutely nothing to do with the wind or the terrain or the distance to which I had traveled. It also had little to do with the fact that my asthma felt quite non-existent and my lungs had somehow taken a trip back to the days of my youth. I ran further and faster than I ever have and as I did, noticed a pattern beginning to emerge.

I fancy myself a writer. Writing has always been my outlet, my therapy and will always hold a very special place in my heart. But these days, I am beginning to fancy myself a runner as well and for entirely different purposes. I am a better person when I run and not merely because it brings me indescribable peace and contentment, although it does indeed. Running has literally made me a better person, if for no other reason than it has afforded me opportunities to be precisely that.

Since I took up running as an outlet for my anxiety and boredom less than a year ago, I have had three opportunities to prove that altruism is indeed alive and well. The first took a great deal of courage on my part, at least from my perspective. Passing through an industrial complex, I spotted a large box in the middle of the street. Considering the times we live in, I jumped straight to fear and apprehension and felt certain it was an explosive device not to be disturbed. Curiosity put my pessimistic self to bed almost immediately and tucked her in tight. I held my breath and gently nudged the box with my foot. Several tense seconds later and much to my astonishment, I found myself still standing, still breathing, all limbs intact. Upon further examination, I discovered that the box was merely a package from Urban Outfitters that had fallen off a delivery truck. I exhaled. Although I fancy myself a runner, I do not at all fancy myself an iron woman and therefore did not think it possible to haul the box the remaining four miles to my house. I promptly entered one of the nearby offices and requested the front desk staff hold it until I returned to retrieve and deliver it to its rightful owner. On I ran.

The second opportunity that arose to prove myself a do-gooder was the discovery of a wallet, or the contents therein alongside the road. It was a gorgeous day and though I am ordinarily lost in the lyrics and rhythm of my favorite songs and laser focused on my own thoughts, for some odd reason - perhaps not by chance - I was scanning the hillside as I passed. Something shiny caught my eye. Scattered amongst the bushes were several forms of identification, a gas card, frequent flyer card and yes, there was even a credit card among the debris. This quandary was much easier to navigate. There would be no shopping spree in my immediate future. Honesty and integrity prevailed and to say that I would be intrigued by my own actions would be the understatement of the year. I tucked the items into my pocket and on I ran. To my surprise, locating the owner online proved quite effortless and she was altogether pleased to be reunited with her belongings. 

The third opportunity I have had the privilege of stumbling upon transpired this morning as I passed a fellow runner. Trudging along behind her was an excited and highly spirited dog. I commented on how darling he was, but a brief conversation revealed that she was not his owner and seemed perplexed as to how to proceed. We both attempted to corral the little ball of energy but he proved quite elusive. She eventually went on her way and I cannot at all fault her, as the situation appeared quite challenging. Witnessing  him dart in and out of passing cars gave me pause and something inside simply would not allow me to abandon him. I waited for him to tire and when he found a shady spot, latched onto his collar and phoned the number on his tag. There was no answer but as luck would have it, a couple passing by recognized my new friend and gave us a proper introduction. They were unable to return Tsuki to his rightful owner, as they had several dogs of their own. I happily carried the pup and followed the couple back to Tsuki’s home where I secured him beyond the front gate. On I ran.

We are all capable of great things. Opportunities present themselves every day. It is how we approach and respond to these opportunities that defines our character. There were no accolades for the “good deeds” I have been blessed to bestow upon others during my runs. No one inquired as to my name and no rewards were offered, but altruism is its own reward if you allow it to be. I was simply given a chance to step outside myself and exercise a bit of kindness if only for a moment. Running has made me a better person. I can see it on the faces of the drivers passing by. There is a certain light that shines within you when you are given a choice to take the path less traveled - the one that is oftentimes, contrary to our human nature - and you heed the call. There is a certain beauty that transforms you from the inside out, a peace that captures your soul and cannot be likened or attributed to a physical act, but rather an inward change that occurs when you choose to do the “right” thing as opposed to the easy thing.

I fancy myself a runner these days, not one of elite stature but rather, one who has simply been changed by the road. These days it seems I cannot run home to the pen fast enough to share the journey, its many blessings and hopefully, restore or plant a new seed of faith in humanity. “A man with integrity walks safely, but those who follow crooked paths will slip and fall.” ~Proverbs 10:9

Therapy Couches and Rose Colored Glasses (If it's broke, don't try to fix it)

I was told recently by a somewhat new acquaintance that I’m too old to have young children. In disbelief, I asked for clarification and said, “Are you seriously calling me old?” Now mind you, he was several drinks in and perhaps in a slightly altered state, but nonetheless aggressively confirmed that was indeed, the intended meaning for which he would make no apologies. I was stunned for a moment, as I had spent a fair amount of time earlier in the evening engaged in what I deemed to be friendly conversation wherein we were getting to know each other a bit better and thus, felt a bit blindsided by what I took to be a blatant insult. Another friend who had been listening in saw my frustration and hurt and tried to reassure me that this “gentleman” would most certainly regret the statement in the morning and quite possibly in an hour or so. Perhaps he would. Perhaps he already did. But most conceivably, there would be no regret to come. I’d like to say I immediately dismissed the flippant comment as ignorant, insignificant and maybe even a misunderstanding of the inebriated kind, but such was not the case. I am a woman after all, and a professed self-loather - the deadliest of combinations and so, I let the comment marinate for a solid day or two and allowed it to pierce my soul on a level much deeper than I care to admit. The truth is that I barely know this man and his words should have carried no weight, yet still I allowed the insecurity to creep in and the pain to gain a foothold, if only for a moment. And then I went for a walk and the truth of our humanity steered me back in the right direction. Maybe he’s a sad, lonely soul like so many of us. Maybe he’s a bitter, angry soul hell bent on making sure others feel his pain. Or maybe he is simply one of those people who have chosen not to invest in me on anything other than surface level. Yep, I’m gonna go with that. Because at the end of the day, most people will not choose you over themselves - over their own insecurities and hurts - but those who do are the ones who deserve your time, affinity, presence and energy. "There comes a time when you have to stop crossing oceans for people who wouldn't even jump puddles for you." ~Author unknown

I decided on that particular walk, with a clearer mind and in the absence of the insecurities and demons that grip me daily to make a promise to myself. I promised from that day forward to surround myself with people who uplift me, people who invest in me and genuinely care for me: not simply people who tolerate me. I promised to choose people who choose me. I believe the true meaning of life is, simply stated, to be in constant relationship - not solely with our inner selves - but with each other and whoever or whatever calls us to a higher power. For me it’s always been a Heavenly Father, thee Heavenly Father to be exact and I’d be doing He and myself a disservice if I did not acknowledge the current state of that relationship. Those who know me well and have read my musings as of late know that I’ve been on a journey, a soul-searching of sorts. I’ve affectionately named it a mid-life crisis, but that is neither here nor there. I believe it is, at its core, an authentic, honest, struggle with my demons and I have no delusions that I have chosen not to include my Heavenly Father in the crusade thus far. Sufficed to say, I am keenly aware that He has been along for the ride every step of the way and has chosen not to leave me - not for one fleeting moment, not for one second. I am His and He will not and has not quit on me. It is perhaps, the messiest, most exasperating, misunderstood relationship in my life (on my end anyway - to Him it makes perfect sense), but also the one I hold closest and dearest to my heart. Therefore, I am confident it will be brought to fruition in due time. I am grateful He has chosen not to forsake me and I am daily drawing closer to Him. So breathe my concerned friends and family. I am still here, in His loving arms and headed home, slowly albeit, but eager and optimistic. I digress. The meaning of life as I understand it...

I have learned considerable lessons on this journey and am confident there is much more to come, but what is permeating deep at the moment is how I interact with those around me and how I engage in relationships with those I care deeply for (and perhaps even those I don't). What I’m only just beginning to understand is that they aren’t actually meant to be perfect relationships and therein lies the virtue. I’ve formerly addressed them on therapy couches, believing myself to be a “fixer," wielding psychological duct tape and interpersonal super glue as if they were the holy grail! I’ve told myself lies such as, “If I can mend this bruised relationship, I’ll find peace and contentment and all will be right with the world once again - or at the very least, with my family and within my friendships.” I’ve approached them from the pulpit with a wild tenacity, believing myself to be righteous and finding no fault on my end. It’s always the other half of the equation who is to blame. The pain they have caused me takes precedence over any wrongs I may have done to them. And I've even viewed them through rose-colored glasses, deeming them fully functional in all facets, otherwise known as denial. Introspection aside, when all is said and done, it really does not matter, because it always seems when one struggle is resolved, another takes root. There will always be one more miscommunication, one more injustice, one more unintentional slight - or God forbid - an intentional one. At the end of the day, there will always be conflict and struggle, because I - and those I choose to engage with - will always be human and finite, flawed and imperfect, broken and bruised. And though it sounds hopeless, it isn’t at all if I can shift my perception a bit to the right - or more fittingly - heavenward. I tend to relish the struggles and to find beauty in the darkness, in the broken. It is, after all, through the cracks that the light shines in.

The truth is that I am not meant to have flawless, elementary relationships with the people I love and care for, although that would seem ideal in this present darkness. The sooner I learn to accept and even thrive within that reality, the more joy will find its rightful place in my soul (insert serenity prayer here). Make no mistake, I am in no way saying that I have chosen to opt out of my relationships and throw in the towel. They do indeed serve a purpose, as challenging as they may seem. I believe I am meant to use my relationships as a gauge of sorts, with the sole intention of bettering myself (and hopefully those around me) until I am one day fully transformed (or self-actualized, as some would say). The fractured, dysfunctional, cracked relationships I struggle with every day point me directly to the one perfect example of relationship, which is the one I share with my creator. I believe that is the only perfect, pure and authentic relationship I have the privilege of engaging in. And not because I am perfect; because He is perfect and all He desires is all I have to offer. These days it’s not much, but for Him, it’s more than enough. Oh that I could approach each of my relationships with the same love, grace, intimacy and enthusiasm he brings to ours! 

Back to the promise I made to myself, back to the clarity I am blessed to receive during my daily walk (with thee). I am confident I will still feel slighted at times, still struggle with my insecurities and still fail to effectively communicate my love for my friends and family on more than one occasion. I am confident I will mince my words and proper articulation will elude me on more than a thousand occasions. I am confident damage control will always claim a bullet on my resume. But I am also confident of this. I will never stop trying. I will never stop investing in those who invest in me. I will recognize the failures and shortcomings of others and myself as opportunities to grow and learn. I will choose people who choose me and try my best to not concern myself with those who do not. And I will not run from the deficiencies and discord in my relationships, but will do my best to delight in them. And if I pass you on one of my walks, not only will I NOT do my best to avoid eye contact with you as most people I encounter do, but I will cross to your side of the street to look you square in the face as I say, “Good morning” to you. 

Light A New Fire and Give Me Desire

I’m a terrible mother. No really, I am. I’m also a terrible wife. And a terrible friend for that matter. I try not to discriminate.  I’m pretty much failing miserably across the board. All I can really hope for these days is that I don’t ruin my children for all eternity, that somehow they will survive my shortcomings and failures and manage to become well-rounded, kind, and fully functional adults...or at the very least, decent human beings. And maybe, if I’m just lucky enough, my marriage will not only survive this phase I find myself stuck in but will actually emerge stronger and more fruitful at its cessation. Perhaps I’ll even get lucky enough to have a few of you still standing by my side when I finally grow up and get my head screwed on straight and my life back on track (God willing). I’m going to pause now to wait for all of you who are silly enough to call me your friend to reassure me that I am not at all any of the afore-mentioned things, that I am indeed, a good mother, wife and friend. Go ahead, chime right in. No? I thought not. Then I will indulge my sorrows a bit further and invite a few more guests to my pity party. Here comes the brutal honesty. Fasten your seatbelts. This one might not sit well with some of you.

I am the chief of sinners. As Timothy so eloquently penned, “Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners - of whom I am the worst.” And I do so often feel that I am and must indeed be, the worst of all sinners (insert a multitude of sins here, beginning with pride, ending with selfishness and basically everything in between). But I have decided it is futile to ask God to help me stop sinning or even to forgive me for my sins, although I do know I need copious amounts of forgiveness on a minute-to-minute basis. Make no mistake, I am aware that He desires us to seek forgiveness and I have many, many times in the past and will do so many, many times in the future, but what I genuinely crave and need above all else presently is simply, desire. I need a desire to turn away from my sinful desires, to choose the path less traveled, and to fulfill the roles God has called me to play in my life. I need a yearning to be a better version of myself - a better wife, mother and friend.  I need a longing to choose virtue over sin. You see, the desire to walk the straight and narrow has been replaced as of late with an insatiable impulse to run, to escape, to be anywhere other than where I am at this moment. Call it a mid-life crisis (that’s what I’ve been calling it). Call it restlessness, this uneasiness that consumes me, this feeling I can only describe as crawling out of my skin. Call it boredom. Call it whatever you’d like, but to deny its existence would be catastrophic at best, because these things do not just fade away. These feelings do not resolve themselves. I look at most of my friends and neighbors, the moms at the school, on the baseball field and at the Girl Scout meetings and think, why do they not feel the need to flee? Why are they perfectly content to volunteer, engage, encourage, cuddle and step up where it matters most? Why are they so firmly planted and engaged in their children's lives and in their marriages, to their friendships and families? Why do I always feel so distant and disconnected? Why does wanderlust consume me? Why am I constantly listening for the sound of a passing freight train to carry me far, far away? Why have I not settled into motherhood after all these years? Why, oh why, do I always seem to be the only one fighting vehemently to contain my tears on the sidelines of the soccer field, unable to fulfill my halftime duties of sliced oranges and water distribution?

I have many things at my disposal on a daily basis. I have plenty of guilt, shame and regret. I have exhaustion to boot. I have uncertainty at every turn, medication to stabilize my mood swings and counter the depression, and enough personalities to fill a large stadium. I have loads of heartache and suffering and an impressive accumulation of self-loathing that has been years in the making. I have disappointment and insurmountable feelings of inadequacy that tear through me like a hurricane. I have bitterness, insecurity and frustration. I have abandonment issues from childhood right up until today in my faith, or lack thereof.  And I have so much accumulated rage and bitterness that it frightens me to the core. My life is abundant with all things stifling and oppressive. What I don’t have enough of is the desire to shake the stagnancy and move beyond the pain. I need desire.

And so I am making myself a promise. I am vowing from this day forward, with the tiniest seeds of strength and hope that remain within me, to ask daily now for desire alone. And though I don’t fancy myself anything remotely close to a prayer warrior these days (in fact it takes everything within me to even acknowledge the existence of my faith sometimes), my soul will cry out for nothing more and nothing less than a shred of longing to start anew. I will seek a hunger to feel warmth and affection toward my children when my very core wars against it and I find myself kicking against the goads with every breath. Pause for effect here. Inhale, exhale, don’t freak out. I love my children with every fiber of my being. I would take the same bullet for them that any mother would. They have my heart and soul forever. And I know how painful it sounds to say that being their mom is not always enough and the feelings of affection don't always come naturally, but if I am nothing else, I am a truth teller who values authenticity above all else and I will be the first to admit that the struggle is real. I need the desire to put their needs above my own, the desire to sacrifice on their behalf. I need the desire to work as hard as it takes to survive this phase of life and come out clean on the other side. I need the desire to make my marriage work despite the fact that the flame might have waned a bit and we are indeed two ships passing in the night. It’s not personal. The love is there. We have a good marriage and a solid foundation. We are good friends, committed to forever. We are, simply put, over-committed, weary and missing the mark on far too many occasions. I need the desire to start fresh and move forward, to cling to the thread I am hanging by and stay the course, however obscure it may seem. I need my thirst for adventure to be replaced by a thirst for contentment. I need my instinct to run to be overshadowed by a love of the present and an appreciation of the power of mindfulness and intentionality. I need so many things, but I can gather them all under the blanket of desire. And so it begins.

I am confident of one thing alone. This storm will pass, as they always do. This hurricane will undoubtedly leave a wake, but will no doubt, flame out in due time. And when that time comes, I will welcome the next phase with open arms. When the apology tour has concluded, the tears have been bottled, and the seas have been calmed, I will lift my eyes heavenward and behold the beauty of a God who refuses to forsake me, a God who, in all things, works for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28). I will say a silent prayer of gratitude to my savior for allowing me to feel what I need to feel when I need to feel it despite the grumblings and fear of those around me (I love you all dearly, but I do not need to be saved. That work was finished long ago as far as I know). I will weep tears of joy and relief that my God never allows me to fall too far from His grasp, too far from His loving arms, too far out of reach. Because just when I am certain I am beyond redemption and grace - at the very moment I am confident He cannot possibly continue to love me -  it is then that He carries me and calls me home. It is then that He rescues me and reveals Himself to me. It is then that He reclaims my heart and breathes grace back into my life. And it is then that my soul sings, "How great thou art."