Now that it's a Blockbuster...geez

I've been reading friend and family blogs a lot lately, relishing the happy photos and enjoying the parts of their life they are willing to share. How wonderful! My own thoughts have drifted more to the serious as of late and, though I at times feel bad for this, I realize this is ridiculous. So I'm going to continue to use this forum as it seems necessary at the time.

It seems that life has one curve ball after another as of late--well, for years now. I'm not sure why...Is it my choices? Is it fate? Is it random? Is it a lesson? Or likely some combination of all of the above. Soon, however, hopefully we will be successfully tethered in Phoenix for the next few years, providing some stability through the madness.

I, in part, feel silly for only now reading Eat, Pray, Love and loving it--largely because it was one of those book club numbers that make me initially cringe at the bandwagon (though hypocritically so). Now that Julia Roberts has her stake in the business, it adds a thin layer of judgment (though I love Ms. Roberts). Yet as I'm reading, I find so many passages and quotes I wish I could store away in my brain, able to pull them out as needed. As I'm shedding a lot in my present--or rather, trying to figure out how that's possible--this passage made me smile (in the context of Ms. Gilbert's own letting go):

"This is what rituals are for. We do spiritual ceremonies as human beings in order to create a safe resting place for our most complicated feelings of joy or trauma, so that we don't have to haul those feelings around with us forever, weighing us down. We all need such places of ritual safekeeping. And I do believe that if your culture or tradition doesn't have the specific ritual you're craving, then you are absolutely permitted to make up a ceremony of your own devising, fixing your own broken-down emotional systems with all the do-it-yourself resourcefulness of a generous plumber/poet. If you bring the right earnestness to your homemade ceremony, God will provide the grace. And that is why we need God.

Until my do-it-yourself resourcefulness comes to fruition, I'll remain a just a girl, stagnantly here, hoping to will the tide into sweeping something into motion. Perhaps I'll make up a silly ritual with good intent, do some yoga, or just enjoy the silence. And 'til then, I'll eat good food, run my booty off, pray more often and love, not only others in the best way I can muster, but I'll work on loving little 'ol me.

2 Stamps

I've been having one of those "mad at the world days." I don't have that great of a reason to feel that way--things are slowly falling into place with moving and I have everything I need. Minus daily annoyances, which are unique to no one, I am okay. Except...there is this grating, nagging, voice dragging me down asking me what is the point? What is my purpose? My inability to find that answer is, I'm sure, the source of my poor attitude. Way to continue the cycle, Em.

However, today I needed to do something I've been putting off for a long time. A letter that needed to be sent. A letter that needs to be received. One that was written, sealed and addressed weeks ago, yet lacked stamps and courage. So on my lunch, I sought both.

Upon leaving the post office, I saw a thin man on a bus bench with a cardboard sign reading "HuNGrY." Many of us see these things daily and cannot or will not do anything (I, admittedly, often fall into this category). Today was different. I felt that little voice that sometime comes from inside saying "Yes!" or "No!" or "Now!" And the little voice rapidly became a pressing weight, urging me to help in whatever paltry way I could. I rushed home excited to rustle through my cupboards in hopes of finding something and managed to assemble a grocery sack with what I could offer. Some nonperishable packaged snacks and protein bars, a Hawaiian Punch I knew I'd never drink, a cooked hot dog and cold yogurt--utensils and paper towels included. Not a gourmet meal, but a meal.

I was elated that he was still there when I returned--though perhaps I should have hoped he might have found somewhere cooler, maybe with a real meal inside. He seemed a little startled at first when I ran across the street to give him the bag (no crosswalks, barely any sidewalks in this gem of a town), but accepted it graciously and I ran on my way. I, too, felt a little nervous and locked my car doors upon getting in, part for safety, part due to prejudiced assumptions.

I took a different way home because I felt awkward sitting at the stoplight where he sat, as I would essentially just watch him go through the bag. I didn't want either one of us feeling uncomfortable and, truthfully, didn't want to see any potential scowls at my lunchtime grab bag. As I pulled away, I only caught a glimpse of him in my rear view mirror, going first for the paper towels and wiping the sweat from his face. It is hot; he is hungry; and it'll likely be the same tomorrow.

I don't feel quite comfortable even writing all of this here, just as I think it's equally strange to post on Facebook "I did xx amounts of good deeds today. Look at me!". But since I'm pretty sure this doesn't get read much, I'll leave it be.

My mood is a little less ugly now. I hope that it made some difference on some level. I still don't get what my greater purpose is all about, but maybe these things were part of my purpose today. And so now I get back to work, trying to be grateful for what I do have, taking things day by day, and hopefully listening to that feeling in my gut when it tells me to do something.

Now to drop my letter in the outgoing mail...