Soft & Warm

One-week-old bunnies, by Oh Joy! Rabbits make me happy. Look at those precious little munchkins! I bet their tummies are really soft and warm.

Personal update: Yesterday I went to therapy for the first time in about a month--my therapist was on vacation or something--and it was good but rough. More stuff came up than I expected. I really miss having a relationship, but there are so many knotty problems with me and romance.

Taken 1/17/2014

Artsy outtakes from this post.

Floral Self-Portraits

I think part of the reason why I like taking pictures of roses, and flowers in general, is that they can come out gorgeous without me having to do much (if any) artistic work. It's not really that I put together a nice photo, but rather that roses are simply lovely.

Currency

// background // dollar roses //

I made this simplistic collage to go with a post about money on my main blog, but I ended up not liking the image I put together. So here it is instead.

Writing Reminder

Some of the most memorable authorial advice I ever got was from Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird. This is how it sticks in my head (although I'm sure the original phrasing was better): "Write, and more will come."

The idea behind this is that you shouldn't "save" your ideas. Use them as they occur to you, instead of waiting until a future date when you might be more capable, have a better venue, or whatever it is. Work with the material that excites you, right away! Anne Lamott promises that you won't run out of good concepts, and I have found that to be true.

This blog notwithstanding. HA.



The photos in this post are just what came up when I searched "anne lamott" on Flickr. Both of them link back to their sources, which are Warwick's Books and Luther College _ Photo Bureau (yup, including the mysterious underscore).

Star Hearts

Re: post title: I'm a romantic. So sue me.

Spotted & Pink With Crawling Ants

Perhaps I should have edited these photos beyond cropping, but I just wanted to get 'em posted and couldn't rouse the energy.

Yesterday I really did feel like trash. I wanted to pursue some creative project, and couldn't think of anything "good" to do, and thus was worthless and awful. It didn't help that I've been a social disaster lately. I always think that I'm gonna be okay, and then it turns out that I'm still me.

I can't wait 'til I get to have therapy again. Seven days.

Cherry Petals

Like candy that's supposedly cherry-flavored, not like actual cherries.

Tucked Into Corners

I've developed a decided preference for small, ordinary flowers. Although the big roses can be breathtaking and wonderful, I find little weedy plants with nubbly blossoms much more relatable and comforting.

Before I Wake

Carrie Ann Tripp wrote something today that stayed with me from morning until now, at 10pm: "If I fall asleep while talking to God, there isn’t time for the worry, the doubt, the endless to-do list for tomorrow to creep in and rob me of the peace He gives me. I can sleep in His peace."

Like most people, my mind keeps buzzing when I lie down at night. Especially if I've only just closed my computer. I would like to drift off in spiritual calm rather than blurry stress.

My job and my hobbies are somewhat similar. Different content, but the same processes. I have a tendency to keep going going going until I have to stop. Thank goodness our internet shuts off at 11:30pm.

These thoughts are fragmented, but sometimes a valuable reflection takes time to come together. Right now I'm going to close my laptop, run a bath, and read some more stories about faith.

Green Pastures

I am sitting at my dining room table, drinking Tazo English breakfast tea (there's some kind of deal going on) and munching on leftover salad from last night. I have 135 unread blog posts in my feed, which sounds like a LOT, but most of them are pretty fluffy, so it's not too much to get through. That kind of pileup is what happens when you take a day off from the internet! But I'm glad I did it; gave myself time to read, reflect, and relax. It was very refreshing. Now I feel more organized and focused than ever. I might try to make a habit of abstaining from my keyboard for 24 hours, every month or perhaps weekly.

My book of the moment is A Celestial Omnibus: Short Fiction on Faith, which I am finding very valuable. One of the works I read yesterday was "A Father's Story" by Andre Dubus. This quote in particular stood out to me, and seemed to segue easily into what's been on my mind:

"I say the Lord's Prayer, trying not to recite it, and one morning it occurred to me that a prayer, whether recited or said with concentration, is always an act of faith."

First let me backtrack a little: I get hung up on belief, like we all do. I have made an uneasy settlement with myself, with my skeptic's mind, my inner scientific cynic. The world has plenty of mysteries, and why can't divinity be one of them?

My mother has always taught me that practice is more important than belief. She prefers Christian charity to the Nicene Creed. When I think of this, a sing-song voice pops into my ear: "Actions speak louder than words." Unfortunately, I've always been better at words than actions.

I am tempted to say "Faith is" and then make a grand statement, but I have learned that generalizations inevitably fall down. And exceptions don't prove anything about a rule, at least not anything good. But I can safely describe my own faith:

The way it feels to quietly enunciate the words of the Hail Mary. I always say "thee" and never "you", even though the spiritual head of my Catholic high school rejected the impersonal, archaic version. That always threw me off. I think he wanted the prayer to be more accessible to young people. Personally, I need traditions to have an aura of ancient precedence, so I can sink in and feel it.

My faith is a sensory belief rather than a cerebral one. How can I reject the cool hands that comfort my swelling heart? Why would I want to?

After all, "The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures." That is an alluring prospect. At the depth of me, I am someone who wants to not want.

Universally Declared Human Rights

By whom or on what authority, I know not. Which is somewhat disturbing--I feel like this is something with which I should be familiar! Despite lacking prior education, I got 77% percent on a quiz, which I encountered on Holly Jahangiri's blog. I think that means that the Universal Declaration of Human Rights encases a pretty natural set of imperatives, although my argument has always been that no "rights" are truly intrinsic, but rather bestowed by a compassionate society... Irregardless--and I use that semi-word ironically--the quiz is worth perusing:

Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR)

77% (10 out of 13 Questions Correct)

Facebook quizzes & Blog quizzes by

Coffee & Robin Eggs

Dark Pink Ruffles

I took the above photo in my neighbor's garden yesterday. Today I am moody and blah. Luckily the roses are pretty no matter how I feel.

Kin Unkind

"Fine" is all the text said, and that terse reply summed up everything. Frustration, anger, and probably a fair amount of hurt.

I laid in bed pondering that for a while. Frustration, anger, and hurt were running through my own mind. Fiercely, I thought, "You can't ignore me for a year and then expect everything to be hunky dory."

But you also can't tell someone that you've been lying to them for months and think they'll be okay with it, because mental illness is not a get-out-of-jail free card. Maybe I should have known that she would cut me off. And so I have to tell myself, once again: Stop using your issues as an excuse to treat people badly.

Context: My cousin texted me a few days ago, asking if I wanted to hang out. There was a bit of back-and-forth, crossed wires, and I hemmed and hawed, but eventually I was straightforward: "I don't want to deal with this."

I can't decide if that was cowardice or "speaking my truth". Or both.

What would I tell myself if I were an advice columnist? What would Mother Mary do?

1) Move on. Clearly you don't want that relationship. 2) Forgive. Apologize. Reconnect.

I'm not a "big enough person" to pursue #2.

Oranges

These photos feel like summer.

Cliche Mirror Selfie

It's odd to see how the camera captures the specks of dust on its own surface.

Comparisons

My boss uses a service called BlogMutt to get content for his website. I have to remember to adjust my expectations when reviewing the posts that they supply. The rate is $16 per article, and the writer gets $8 of that. It's not realistic to insist on a high-level creative product for roughly minimum wage.

Somehow this feels connected to my mental health journey, perhaps in the sense that I also have to manage my expectations for myself. I only have so much energy, and it's not healthy to insist that I build the Taj Mahal everyday with my limited personal resources. (That's hyperbole, but you know what I mean.)

I have a very all-or-nothing attitude toward accomplishments. The way I think is that either I'm top of the class, or I'm nothing. In therapy I've been working on learning a different way to understand my own achievements. I want to regard myself and my work as innately valuable, rather than only worthwhile based on where they fall in a hierarchy.