A Mild Anti-depressant

I was listening to a speech on my ipod on my way to work yesterday, and the speaker was talking about a friend of his who is a trauma counseller. When this friend was training, she was told that one of the best things they could do for trauma victims was to have them make a list each day of the things they are grateful for. Apparently, they've done studies, and making a list of the things you're thankful for each day does the same thing physiologically as a mild dose of anti-depressant. Very cool.

Anyway, here's some of things that are making me smile today...

• purple and white argyle socks
• mellow music to accompany a snowy day spent doing domestic sorts of things
• the sense of accomplishment that comes from ticking things off my list of things to do
• a chance to go out and do errands. Have I mentioned that I love doing errands?
• a chance to sleep in, and then, after a quick trip to the bathroom, crawl right back into be and curl up with a good book for an hour and a bit.
• a comfy favorite hoody and jeans to wear (I do love casual clothes after dressing nicely for work all week)
• a general sense of tidiness and comfort in my bedroom.
• hot pink crocs - still making me happy every time I put them on.
• a fresh perspective brought on by a good night's sleep after a rather difficult day yesterday
• plans to do at least one creative thing today

It occurs to me that I am rather easy to please... why does it seem so difficult some days to be happy, when something so small as a trip to the post office, and argyle socks can make me smile? I need to work on being more regularly aware of things that I'm enjoying, instead of locking in on the things that are weighing heavily on my heart and mind.

Jesus, you make me smile. I'm grateful for the reminder to be grateful. Thanks for all the little things in my life.

Read This

Renee Altson recently posted a link to a beautiful article about church that she wrote for a magazine. You can find her post, and the link to the article here.



It really is something beautiful to imagine a church that embraces brokenness, and leaders who journey alongside, rather than from a position of power, a separation from the people whom they lead.

powered by performancing firefox

Bless the darkness

Found this somewhere as I was surfing the web this morning. Really liked it and thought I'd pass it along.

Bless the darkness around you.
That’s why you’re a poet.
As the night presses inward
you radiate beams of light.

Voznesekií

Unsatisfied

I went to a concert last night at a local café. A band I know a little was playing – Jacob and Lily out of Winnipeg. My baby brother came with me, and we left, just as they were beginning their second set, because Tim and I both had to leave for work early this morning. (Who starts a concert on a Wednesday night at 9pm anyway? Doesn’t anyone I know have jobs with normal hours?)

I enjoyed it. I really did. Listening to Karla and Caleb play was great. Visiting with friends I hadn’t seen in a while was great, too. I even got a couple of hugs. I place a high premium on hugs these days.

But I came home entirely unsatisfied with my life. It wasn’t really something new, just something that’s been growing for a long time, and was underscored by friends who are living their dreams.

I don’t want to be in Calgary any more. I don’t want to be so tied to the realities of full-time work. I want to be in ministry, but don’t know how to go about it. I want to be some sort of monastic (though I think I’d be bad at it), or some sort of gypsy. I want to see the world, and meet Jesus in crazy places. I want to collect stories that make me laugh and stories that make me cry.

I fell asleep wondering how to communicate to my parents that their most conventional, most set in her ways child wants to find adventure in life. How to make my parents who are big on responsibility, on setting and meeting goals, that I just want to wander. That I have things (you could even call them goals) that I want to do with my life, but at present I’m more interested in the journey to those things, than in the ultimate achievement of them.

The thing is, I’m no musician, so I can’t make a living as a bohemian that way. I have absolutely no idea how to support this kind of lifestyle. And, here’s a confession. I’m awfully attached to the comforts of life. I could live simply, but I really like having things, having disposable income, having lots of clothes, lots of books, the ability to eat out regularly, hi-speed internet, and so on. I am increasingly convicted of a sort of selfishness, a me first mentality within myself that I am not happy with.

And the dreams?

Well, I fell asleep on the thought that I want to change the world. I want to hang out with broken women, and see healing and wholeness. I want to write. I want to be happy. I want to live somewhere with sunshine, where I can wear skirts the whole year round, without worrying that my legs will get frostbitten. Skirts are who I am. I’ve spent years denying the girlyness within me. I want to wear skirts. They suit my figure, they make me happy.

A Melancholy Happiness

I finished writing a long journal entry a few minutes ago, ranting and musing. Not one for public consumption, but just for me, working through all the questions and issues floating through my brain tonight. Basically, if I don’t take the time to do that every once in a while, I don’t sleep! I’ve found these last few months that it helps a great deal to take the time to write down the things that are weighing heavy on my mind, that it brings perspective, and sometimes even peace.

The days feel long lately. I haven’t been feeling that well physically, and I find myself dreaming constantly of being elsewhere. There continues to be something deeply unsatisfied within myself, a desire to see and experience the world, to meet God in crazy new places and ways, to have less sameness and more adventure.

I am feeling tentative as I plan and begin to really immerse myself into working with youth this month and next. This has been an area where I have felt such a strong sense of spiritual opposition, and so very little covering and support. I wonder if I am up for the challenge of working with teenagers again. I was immensely bad at even being a teenager, how the heck am I supposed to connect with them? And it is something that I sensed a rightness about when I agreed to become involved all those months ago.

I am wondering what comes next with my grandma. She is doing well, but remains in hospital. Her heartbeat continues to be irregular, despite attempts to medicate it into regularity. They have, as yet, failed to find the cause. She is waiting for an MRI, hopefully sometime this week, to provide the doctors with further information. Is it selfish to hope that this resolves, and she remains on this for a very long time to come? Is it selfish to not want to go through the process of grief right now, the long drawn out illness that my grandpa had with congestive heart failure, the watching him slowly weaken, the eventual death and all that that then entails?

I have been deeply lonely at intervals over the last while – not the sort of lonely where I never see people, because I do, but the lonely that comes from the lack of deep heart connect – the friends with whom you can be silent, or speak a thousand words. The ones who can look at your face and read your heart. Mine are all quite distant – my best friend in Pakistan, and others scattered around, and I find myself generally unwilling to begin yet again to develop those deeper sorts of relationships.

So, that’s the update. Sigur Ros is playing on my laptop, and I am well, though it may not sound it. There are deep things going on in my heart, and that always excites me, though it hurts like the dickens just presently.