So I’ve made it through Day 2. Honestly it’s been easier than I thought…except for 2pm and dinner time. And the drive home….oh dear Lord when I drive home I just want GUM! But so far so good.
What I have discovered, though, is that I have interesting vices. Smoking was a vice, food was another, and as it turns out, so is diet coke. Without it I find myself just wanting to snack on anything. No Bueno.
And I’ve managed to drink enough water to drown a fish.
Today is Ash Wednesday, also known as the first day of lent. Today, I am a good Catholic.
I would venture to say that most people probably don’t think of me as “super religious”. And while I would not characterize myself that way either, I am certainly much more so than most would realize. There is a reading from Matthew every Ash Wednesday that I think describes it best:
“And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by men. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward.”
Now, I’m not saying anything derogatory about any one or other religion, but I put that out there because I feel like it synopsizes so much about the religion I was brought up in. The bottom line is that I was never brought up to talk about my relationship with God. In fact, I never had even heard such a phrase until I became involved with Young Life in high school. And when someone first asked me “how is your relationship with God?” my first thought was “do-what?” and the second was “none of your business thankyouverymuch”.
The point is, I was just not brought up to discuss my beliefs like some. And that’s fine. The point isn’t whether or not you shout about your beliefs or you hold them close to the vest. But the point is that because of the fact that my belief system was quite private, most people just aren’t aware. Even my mother probably doesn’t get it. This was only the second Christmas that I wasn’t with them on Christmas Eve, and the first time that I was spending it with another family (besides just my husband). My mother felt the need to remind me to go to church for Christmas Eve mass. I had to laugh. I had already told the boy it was a non-negotiable item.
And of course the older I get, the more important it is to me, and to the boy.
But still, it’s not exactly something I shout out from the rooftops.
For whatever reason, in the past few years Lent has become more and more important. I suppose it’s a time for me to “show my Catholicism” and it’s a chance for me to reconnect. It’s no secret that I”m having a hard time finding a church in this area (I have issue with the Arlington Diocese and their old school mentality) and I’ve long known that even if we join another denomination I’ll always be a Catholic at heart. What can I say, I hate change love tradition.
So this morning I drug myself out of bed for 6:30am service. It was dark, and I almost busted my booty on the ice, but I made it. I got all ashed up, and began my 40 days.
What did I give up? Aspartame. Which, as it turns out is in a LOT. Like Diet Coke. Pretty sure Jesus should give me bonus points for that one. Going back to Matthew 6, we’re not supposed to “look dismal” but rather we’re supposed to ‘put our big girl panties on and deal with it…with a smile”. Ok, so maybe Matthew didn’t say THAT but you get the idea. Have no fear though, I’ll be sharing all of it here.
So 16 hours in. within the first 62 minuets I thought about Diet Coke 5 times. By 1:00pm I had a massive headache and thought I was going to toss my cookies. You tell me how I”m doing.
About a week ago I received an e-mail from a colleuge asking me about running for the board of a particular industry association. Less than 24 hours later, I recieved a letter from the incoming president on the same topic. Both of these amazing woman wanted me to consider being a candidate for the board.
I’m far from the only person on this earth who has trouble saying No. And the good Lord knows all I need is a little flattery about how “indespensible” I am and I’m a little like melted butta’. Basically, I’m a sucker for some good flattery.
So you can imagine when I recieved this correspondance (which was then followed up that afternoon with some training for this organization to ‘re-energize us) I was thrown. Not a week before I sat with my manager discussing my goals for 2010. One of my goals included being LESS involved.
Yep, you heard it hear first folks.
Two bloggers I read have used a certain turn of phrase that seems particularly appropriate–my ’seaon of life’ has changed. (yes I know it sounds like a menopause commercial) It’s no secret that the boy and I have talked about starting a family sometime in the next two years (the same length as a board term) and to be honest, I want to focus more on ‘non-work’ things…you know, it’s normally called a personal life? Yea, I had to look it up too.
I won’t lie, they almost had me. I was so flattered by the compliments I was given, by the confidence they have in me and the optimisim I could bring to the table. Heck, even the fact that they were “looking forward to the opporutnity to work with me and get to know me better”. Seriously, that’s some good stuff. And I mulled it over. Long and hard.
Maybe, I thought, I could carry on. How hard would it be right?
When I mentioned it to the boy and said we needed to discuss it, he asked me what there was to discuss. “Oh” I said, “so you think I should go for it??!”
His reply:
“What part of that statement makes you think I think this is a good idea?”
In fairness, when it’s written out it sounds like he’s running some sort of dictatorship. That couldn’t be further from the case actually. This is a man that hears all the backend jumbled jarrgon of all of my little world’s ins and outs. He knows me, perhaps better than I know myself (much to my dismay) he also knows when I need to slow down. He’s like my own personal barameter. And so when the discussion of our family and where our lives are heading originally came up, I had to suck it up and hear what he had to say. No longer am I a single gal who can come home after working a 12 hour day and tune out, with only myself and a cat to be responsible for. Never would I have thought that that would be a struggle for me to embrace, and yet here it is almost a year and a half to the day later and I still struggle with it. Apparently, I can be a bit selfish. And to be perfectly honest, this is a new season for me and there is a lot going on. Perhaps it was time to shift it down.
And so yesterday I responded with a thank you, but no thank you. I expressed my sincere appreciation but declined the offer. It was harder than I would have thought, I cannot lie. A year and a half in and I have to remind myself still that it’s not just me. Sad maybe, but true. But the benefit to all of this is a life shared, which is much better than a life as the cat lady 
A post about not much
I love the snow. Correction. I USED to love the snow. Right now snow and I, we have a kinda love hate relationship.
We’ve had 3 storms in 2 weeks, and tonight is our 4th. 6inches, 6 inches, 29 flippin inches, and now somewhere between 10-20 inches. The snowflakes are huge and falling, but they are not pretty to me. Instead, every one is currently another one that we will have to shovel. It may in fact be the on that pushes the tree over, or collapses the roof. Stupid flakes.
It’s a rather morbid Debbie Downer though process, I realize. And that’s when it occured to me. Let Go and Let God. Seriously. I mean, sure we’ll shovel the deck and the sidewalk and drip the water and do what we can, but at the end of the day if the trees’a comin down, it’s coming down. You’re certainly not going to see my fool butt up in that tree shaking it off (though I totally took a broom to it -bwahaha) At the end of the day, it will all work out one way or another.
And so with that, I’ll just enjoy power while we have it. I can’t say that my relationship with Mother Nature isn’t brusied at the moment, but for now I’ll do my best to enjoy the snow…you know, the ones that are going to accumulate and cause me to shovel another 3 hours…..oops. Well, baby steps.
I worked with a local photographer for a show in Philadelphia. Every year he sends out a print that he’s taken and sends it to all of his clients, something that speaks to him. Honestly, it’s one of the best ideas out there–I remember him and look forward to seeing what he has done. This year was no different. When I opened the photo, there was a note attached. The basic jist is that he happened upon a group of tourists at the Rocky statue and snapped them all doing the “Rocky Pose”. The photo inspired a quote from Rocky himself that is printed below the photo of about a dozen tourists, fists in air, and is as follows:
“…it ain’t about how hard you hit, it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward, how much can you take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!”
-Rocky Balboa
The idea behind this, of course, was the craptastically crappy year a lot of use had in 2009. But the quote, to me, goes much further than just last year’s poor economic status.
It’s about all of the times that you just want to give up, to say “to hell with this” but instead you put your chin up and press onward. Sometimes it’s so painful that you literally have to hold your breath and you get up and go on with it. It’s about choosing to learn from even the worst situations, when it would be just as easy to speak of excuses, place blame and lament about how unfair life is.
It is no secret if you know me that my work life in 2009 was…a bit painful. One of my coworkers was telling me about a challenge she recently faced, one that was I’m sure very painful. I kept saying to her “I just wish you knew how awesome you are”, because she is. Because I know that regardless of everything, I have no doubt that she gave her all and she’s an amazing planner. And then it occurred to me that perhaps I should look in a mirror and not only remind myself of the same thing, but listen when others remind me.
Because at the end of the day, you gotta “keep moving forward, that’s how winning is done”. And sometimes winning just means making it to the end of the day :