It snowed this morning. I was pretty ticked that I still had to go into work, when all I really wanted to do was burrow back down in the covers and snooze. The boys are home from school, but I doubt that I could have justified the need to stay home with a 16 and 18 year old... so I pulled on my boots and hat, and fought my way through unplowed streets to get here. And I'm glad I did.
The view from my desk is absolutely beautiful. The snow is still coming down, covering the evergreens and rooftops. Across the circle is one of the oldest buildings on Drury's campus - Wallace Hall. It is a stately brick dormitory, and today it has snowcapped ledges to compliment the structure. It is easy for me to forget that I'm in Springfield MO and pretend I'm in Cambridge, MA!
Drury has been termed by someone in our history as "the Harvard of the mid-West" (or is it Princeton?). I suppose this is a reference to our prestige, but I have to say, I feel that the physical beauty of our campus has just as much to lend to this moniker. Stately trees line Drury Lane (did you know we are a tree farm? Over 300 varieties on our campus!), and our facilities staff takes immense pride in caring for the grounds.
All in all, I feel blessed to be here. I'm receiving an education (in more ways than one), I am in a position to impact students, I'm warm, I'm employed.... just to name a few positives.
As I ponder these thoughts, I wonder what other areas of my life may not be the "best and brightest", but are enough. If I spent more time meditating on what I do have than what I don't, would I feel just as blessed? I hope so...
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Progress
Hi, I'm Tammy, and I'm a diabetic.
There, I said it. I'm owning it. I'm also taking charge of it. According to my doctor, my fasting blood sugars should be under 100; that's the goal. This has not happened for me in at least a year. But I am now on modified meds, and this week, I had a funeral for sugar and buried it. Already, I'm seeing the results. My Monday morning level was 160, Tuesday was 150 and today is 140. I've exercised at least 30 min each day since last Thursday, and this has also helped with my general overall feeling of well being. I'm committing to being in bed by 10:30 during the week, and doing at least one productive thing each evening before I share tv time with Keith.
I'm also trying to really analyze what I feed into my mind; is it positive messages or negative? This doesn't mean I'm sticking my head in the sand and being unrealistic. Just the opposite, actually. I'm not listening to messages that make me discontent with the place I'm in. No messages that make me feel my worth is in being younger or more beautiful or having a knight in shining armour to rescue me from life's doldrums. As a former boss used to say- "It's time to pull up your big girl panties" and fight for the abundant life that's out there! You go girl!
There, I said it. I'm owning it. I'm also taking charge of it. According to my doctor, my fasting blood sugars should be under 100; that's the goal. This has not happened for me in at least a year. But I am now on modified meds, and this week, I had a funeral for sugar and buried it. Already, I'm seeing the results. My Monday morning level was 160, Tuesday was 150 and today is 140. I've exercised at least 30 min each day since last Thursday, and this has also helped with my general overall feeling of well being. I'm committing to being in bed by 10:30 during the week, and doing at least one productive thing each evening before I share tv time with Keith.
I'm also trying to really analyze what I feed into my mind; is it positive messages or negative? This doesn't mean I'm sticking my head in the sand and being unrealistic. Just the opposite, actually. I'm not listening to messages that make me discontent with the place I'm in. No messages that make me feel my worth is in being younger or more beautiful or having a knight in shining armour to rescue me from life's doldrums. As a former boss used to say- "It's time to pull up your big girl panties" and fight for the abundant life that's out there! You go girl!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Living the Serenity
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."
How many times have I recited this prayer, having no real application in my life? But it occurred to me this morning that I have been fighting things I can't change, because I lack the courage, motivation, whatever, to change the things I can. Case in point: I am a diabetic. I don't want to be a diabetic. I have refused to accept that I'm a diabetic. I have fought making changes that will actually keep me healthier because I don't want to admit that I have a disease. So I'm not getting anywhere.
The "wisdom to know the difference" part comes in having the understanding that, even though I make the changes I need to, I will still always be a diabetic, although I can help keep my numbers down. But if I'm living in some delusion that I will someday magically not be a diabetic, I'm not living the first part of the prayer. I can eat all the right foods, take my meds, exercise the right amounts, and I will still be a diabetic. This is not negativity, it's reality, and I need to start understanding the difference ---oooh, another application for the prayer!
How many times have I recited this prayer, having no real application in my life? But it occurred to me this morning that I have been fighting things I can't change, because I lack the courage, motivation, whatever, to change the things I can. Case in point: I am a diabetic. I don't want to be a diabetic. I have refused to accept that I'm a diabetic. I have fought making changes that will actually keep me healthier because I don't want to admit that I have a disease. So I'm not getting anywhere.
The "wisdom to know the difference" part comes in having the understanding that, even though I make the changes I need to, I will still always be a diabetic, although I can help keep my numbers down. But if I'm living in some delusion that I will someday magically not be a diabetic, I'm not living the first part of the prayer. I can eat all the right foods, take my meds, exercise the right amounts, and I will still be a diabetic. This is not negativity, it's reality, and I need to start understanding the difference ---oooh, another application for the prayer!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
A Start is a Start
It's amazing how quickly you can lose your stamina when you haven't exercised for a while. After a meeting last night, Keith and I went to the Y and just walked the track. We did walk at a fairly brisk pace, and passed several people, but still; 1/2 hr later, I was aching and whining to go home. But a start is just that- a start, and so I feel good that we didn't sit on the couch all night.
Today, I'm going to spin class at noon; I'm actually very thankful that the teacher won't be there, and it's just a few of us getting together to do it, because I don't think I could keep up otherwise! I'm hoping to see the changes in my attitude and overall sluggishness as I keep up with this.
Next comes the eating part...right now, I'm still so sick of food, after all the holiday binges, that I just want to not eat anything! And because it's so cold, the idea of fresh veggies and salads does not thrill me in the least; bring on the hearty stews and casseroles! I'll get there....
As for the "winter blahs" of my soul, well, I can only say that I feel I made some discoveries about myself last night that make me feel as if I am no longer wallowing in the wilderness, but am moving through the wilderness, on my way to something better, some discovery. I realize I am very purpose driven, and when life or work feels as if it has no greater purpose, I languish. Now, the task becomes to seek out the purpose in the everyday place I find myself!
Today, I'm going to spin class at noon; I'm actually very thankful that the teacher won't be there, and it's just a few of us getting together to do it, because I don't think I could keep up otherwise! I'm hoping to see the changes in my attitude and overall sluggishness as I keep up with this.
Next comes the eating part...right now, I'm still so sick of food, after all the holiday binges, that I just want to not eat anything! And because it's so cold, the idea of fresh veggies and salads does not thrill me in the least; bring on the hearty stews and casseroles! I'll get there....
As for the "winter blahs" of my soul, well, I can only say that I feel I made some discoveries about myself last night that make me feel as if I am no longer wallowing in the wilderness, but am moving through the wilderness, on my way to something better, some discovery. I realize I am very purpose driven, and when life or work feels as if it has no greater purpose, I languish. Now, the task becomes to seek out the purpose in the everyday place I find myself!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Winter Blahs
It's cold today. By Ozarks standards, it's REALLY cold. My car thermostat said 5 degrees when I came into work today. In years past, I haven't minded the winter; it seemed a great time to burrow in and pretend to be a bear in the evenings. This year, I feel like that's all I do, and I'm tired of it. Mind you, not tired enough to actually MOVE. I've become a winter slug. I go to work, I sit. I walk to my car, and sit all the way home (which is good; it would be hard to drive standing up). I get home, change my clothes, and sit, til it's time to get up and go lay down in bed.
Something's got to give. I'm beginning to not even be bothered by my inactivity, it's becoming my habit. But I don't want to feel this way much longer. I need a motivation. You know, besides the already present motivators of high blood sugar, high BMI, and the extra 15 lbs around my hips like an inner tube. But try as I might, nothing seems to be the thing that trips my trigger...
Blah.
Something's got to give. I'm beginning to not even be bothered by my inactivity, it's becoming my habit. But I don't want to feel this way much longer. I need a motivation. You know, besides the already present motivators of high blood sugar, high BMI, and the extra 15 lbs around my hips like an inner tube. But try as I might, nothing seems to be the thing that trips my trigger...
Blah.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Crazy Little Thing Called Love
I wrote this essay about 1 1/2 yrs ago; I'm happy to say, Daniel is now 16 1/2, and he and Lindsey are still an item. Where the future takes them, only God knows, but I'm enjoying the ride.
I have a lovesick teenager at my house. He’s fifteen years old, smitten by a fifteen year old female. My son Daniel has been dating Lindsey for about nine months now, and although their relationship is innocent enough, I have to say his behavior is completely silly. This is the boy who, five short years ago, was the president of the Anti-Girls Club, an organization made up of 5 prepubescent wannabe men; who vowed to never like a girl, let alone touch one, and never, ever marry one. What is it about love, even puppy love that absolutely changes rational human beings into starry eyed saps?
I remember being a boy-crazy little girl who followed young males around the playground, watching their every move, daydreaming that they would turn and smile, and ask me to join them in their game of basketball. Even when they flipped my skirt up, pulled my hair, or tried to see up my dress when I was on the swings, I still believed that someday one of these handsome boys would pick me up, put me on his white horse, and ride off into the sunset to live in a castle, happily ever after.
I don’t think that much changes as we get older. Look at all the promises of advertising, which guarantee you’ll snag that special someone, simply by drinking the right diet soda, or driving the right car. And we fall for it, male and female alike. We believe that love is something that can be bought and sold. Women go to great lengths to change how they look, smell, and feel, all in the hopes of eternal bliss.
This is not a new thing; examples date back to the beginning of time. Eve gave Adam the apple, in hopes that she could lure him with wisdom. David went to great lengths to kill Bathsheba’s husband, in order to cover up his affair and win her as the prize. King Solomon, supposedly the wisest man to ever live, wrote one of the most steamy, syrupy love stories to the Queen of Sheba, and it actually worked.
Wars have been fought over love, kingdoms joined and toppled, murders committed. Sometimes the negative effects of love are easier to see than the positive ones. But they are there, and it’s actually in the ridiculousness of love that you find its beauty. Is it rational to love someone who has betrayed you with another? Is it sane to give everything you have for the object of your desire? Does it make sense to drive all night, sleep deprived, for one more moment with your love before they ship out? No it doesn’t. And that’s why we crave it. The idea that someone would be so crazy in love with us that they would do the most unpractical things is mesmerizing.
My son came home last week with what looks to me like a wedding ring on his left hand. I choked back my hysteria to ask him what this was. He replied “a promise ring.” To which I said “ a promise to what”? He said “marry her”. Let me repeat; this is my fifteen year old. How irrational is that?
But then I look at my right hand, where there is a ring of silver on the finger. It was given to me when I was fifteen, a promise to always love me and cherish me, and to be together forever, to be made official at a later date. And twenty four years later, that rash promise has been kept. Who knows? Love is rarely predictable; it’s a gamble.
Some win, some lose, and most fall completely overboard, but it’s always worth the chance.
I have a lovesick teenager at my house. He’s fifteen years old, smitten by a fifteen year old female. My son Daniel has been dating Lindsey for about nine months now, and although their relationship is innocent enough, I have to say his behavior is completely silly. This is the boy who, five short years ago, was the president of the Anti-Girls Club, an organization made up of 5 prepubescent wannabe men; who vowed to never like a girl, let alone touch one, and never, ever marry one. What is it about love, even puppy love that absolutely changes rational human beings into starry eyed saps?
I remember being a boy-crazy little girl who followed young males around the playground, watching their every move, daydreaming that they would turn and smile, and ask me to join them in their game of basketball. Even when they flipped my skirt up, pulled my hair, or tried to see up my dress when I was on the swings, I still believed that someday one of these handsome boys would pick me up, put me on his white horse, and ride off into the sunset to live in a castle, happily ever after.
I don’t think that much changes as we get older. Look at all the promises of advertising, which guarantee you’ll snag that special someone, simply by drinking the right diet soda, or driving the right car. And we fall for it, male and female alike. We believe that love is something that can be bought and sold. Women go to great lengths to change how they look, smell, and feel, all in the hopes of eternal bliss.
This is not a new thing; examples date back to the beginning of time. Eve gave Adam the apple, in hopes that she could lure him with wisdom. David went to great lengths to kill Bathsheba’s husband, in order to cover up his affair and win her as the prize. King Solomon, supposedly the wisest man to ever live, wrote one of the most steamy, syrupy love stories to the Queen of Sheba, and it actually worked.
Wars have been fought over love, kingdoms joined and toppled, murders committed. Sometimes the negative effects of love are easier to see than the positive ones. But they are there, and it’s actually in the ridiculousness of love that you find its beauty. Is it rational to love someone who has betrayed you with another? Is it sane to give everything you have for the object of your desire? Does it make sense to drive all night, sleep deprived, for one more moment with your love before they ship out? No it doesn’t. And that’s why we crave it. The idea that someone would be so crazy in love with us that they would do the most unpractical things is mesmerizing.
My son came home last week with what looks to me like a wedding ring on his left hand. I choked back my hysteria to ask him what this was. He replied “a promise ring.” To which I said “ a promise to what”? He said “marry her”. Let me repeat; this is my fifteen year old. How irrational is that?
But then I look at my right hand, where there is a ring of silver on the finger. It was given to me when I was fifteen, a promise to always love me and cherish me, and to be together forever, to be made official at a later date. And twenty four years later, that rash promise has been kept. Who knows? Love is rarely predictable; it’s a gamble.
Some win, some lose, and most fall completely overboard, but it’s always worth the chance.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
A Beautiful Mess
You've got the best of both worlds
You're the kind of girl who can take down a man,
And lift him back up again
You are strong but you're needy,
Humble but you're greedy
And based on your body language,
And shoddy cursive I've been reading
Your style is quite selective,
Though your mind is rather reckless
Well I guess it just suggests
That this is just what happiness is
And what a beautiful mess this is
It's like we're picking up trash in dresses
Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write
Kind of turn themselves into knives
And don't mind my nerve you could call it fiction
But I like being submerged in your contradictions dear
'Cause here we are, here we are
Although you were biased I love your advice
Your comebacks they're quick
And probably have to do with your insecurities
There's no shame in being crazy
Depending on how you take these
Words I'm paraphrasing this relationship we're staging
And what a beautiful mess this is
It's like picking up trash in dresses
Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you say
Kind of turn themselves into blades
And kind and courteous is a life I've heard
But it's nice to say that we played in the dirt oh dear
Cause here we are, Here we are
Here we are [x7]
We're still here
What a beautiful mess this is
It's like taking a guess when the only answer is yes
And through timeless words, and priceless pictures
We'll fly like birds not of this earth
And times they turn, and hearts disfigure
But that's no concern when we're wounded together
And we tore our dresses, and stained our shirts
But it's nice today, oh the wait was so worth it.
Jason Mraz is known for his “wordsmith” songs; he is not afraid to use words to paint a picture. As a result, it is rather easy to listen to any number of his songs and feel an emotional and personal connection. On his album “We Sing, We Dance, We Steal Things”, Jason uses his talent to describe love, childhood, sex, and honor. In ‘A Beautiful Mess’, he skillfully portrays long-term relationships.
As someone who has been married for over half of my life, I can tell you that love is, at times, messy. We do not marry our Prince Charming, ride off on a white steed, and live happily ever after. But we do live. Oftentimes, we hurt those we love the most with our words and actions. Mraz nails it on the head when he pens “Your comebacks they're quick and probably have to do with your insecurities”. Many times, the words we hurl at one another are a reflection of our own inner turmoil. Love, with its moments of beauty and ugliness, is “like picking up trash in dresses”.
I have to admit that I had listened to this particular album several times, and had actually skipped this song just because it was really slow. But in November of last year, I took my son to see Jason Mraz in concert at the Fox Theatre in
Someday -and I hope it’s later, rather than sooner- my life mate and I will be parted. While I’m sure it is a natural thing to have regrets at that time for words unsaid or for those that were spoken in haste, I love the perspective in the last lines of this song:
And through timeless words, and priceless pictures
We'll fly like birds not of this earth
And times they turn, and hearts disfigure
But that's no concern when we're wounded together
And we tore our dresses, and stained our shirts
But it's nice today, oh the wait was so worth it.
Sources:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AKanbidzvUQ&feature=related
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