Failure to plan is planning to fail. -Project Management
I like to plan. I plan parties, schedule work-outs, even write blogging on my to-do list. Its the type-A personality, I can’t avoid it. (Side note, I just read Wikipedia’s definition of Type A and it made me want to cry.)
So I’ve been on the five year plan of life. Basically I’ve been getting frustrated because my whole plan is falling to bits. I had planned to climb like a rockstar, oops no. I intended to fall in love, damn. I was hoping to get a graduate degree, blasted. Nothing on the five year plan has happened yet. So apparently my planning was more like unthought-out silly dreaming.
I’m thinking that its not possible to boil down my dreams to a list, a schedule, or an order of events. So how do I go about this life? Just float about waiting for God to drop things in my lap? Well I don’t really believe that either. There has to be a combo that can be comfortable, yet challenging. Just this week, God showed me that he can give me the opportunities, and I can still plan. There’s a dream come true. Soon I’ll get to say the first thing on my five year plan is coming to fruition, even if it took a whole year of waiting in Texas.
I’ve noticed lately that I’m really pushing back from all things “supposed to.” Things filled with obligation, not necessarily commitment, have really started to grate on my nerves. As I strive to live a life of intention, I’ve realized its important to strip away all the worldly imposed life elements.
Why do I work out? Because I want to be healthy, and I like the challenge.
Why do I work? Because I need money to pay off my silly debts and buy Ben & Jerry’s.
Why do I go to church? Because I feel its necessary for my sanity to worship and take the focus off of me.
Why do I facebook? Because my friends expect me to, awfully close to “I’m supposed to.”
Why do I give things up for lent? That’s a tough one…
I’ve been giving up ridiculous activities and decadences since I was seven. I’ve given up sugar, coffee, swearing and many other “unchristian” activities. The forty days have never really felt that long to me, I’m a control freak so its never bothered me to limit myself. But now as I look back, I wonder why I even gave up my guilty pleasures. Sugar and swearing aren’t inherently bad, so I fear I might have done it because it was expected. Its also possible that I just like the challenge.
So this year, I’m taking up a new practice instead of sacrificing. We’ll call it a new habit if you will. I think life changes take a little practice, so I’ll be taking the next forty days to train my mind and body to focus on God first thing. My snooze button is officially dead today. Tomorrow, when my phone beeps I’ll be up to start the day slowly and centered.
If I can get up on time for forty days, I can do it for the next forty years.
Thank-you to everyone for the Christmas I’ve always wanted. I enjoyed the time, the laughter, and the memories. Everyone’s “gift” was donated to 3for5. So thank-you for helping me do that as well.
Or blue, green, or purple. Painting is therapeutic. I fully support the use of low VOC paint, made using Celanese products. I gotta help our stock price somehow…
For the last 24 years I’ve asked a lot of questions. I’ve always been an observer; watching reactions in flasks and recording temperature, pressure, and color (or even people in situations, cataloging temper, body language, and tone of voice). I find myself asking “What is going on here?” I’m a scientist.
Every scientific statement in the long run really means something like “I put some of this stuff in a pot and heated it to such and such a temperature and it did so and so.” Do not think I am saying anything against science, I am only saying what its job is… But why anything comes to be there at all and whether there is anything behind the thing science observes – this is not a scientific question.” -C.S. Lewis
So I would never claim to have science figured out, but I am a classic type A and questions of the ‘what’s going on here’ have always come naturally. Pensive thoughts of the ‘why are things happening’ are a foreign topic, up until now.
While home in Utah for the holidays, I caught myself delving into the world of curiosity. I was shocked with questions- why I can’t help but love certain people, how I had come to my present circumstance, why do things always seem to work out, and why does life change so quickly. It was a barage of questions; it exhausted me. I’m still spinning in thoughts. Its blissful to be caught up in questions with no concrete answers, I can’t be wrong today!
I’ll start with a confession, I’m electronically challenged.
I got a new cell phone a few months ago, and its a minor miracle that I’ve figured out how to call and text. The blasted thing is so much smarter than me. I can’t believe cell phone is foiling me, not for lack of trying mind you. I’ve read the ridiculous 79 page manual, put the cd in my computer, and tried pushing random buttons in complicated combinations. After a week of serious work, I gave up on the stupid thing. I haven’t managed to put my pride on the shelf long enough to go the the Sprint store and ask for help, but I predict that is coming soon. Its embarassing, really. Sprint’s commercials say to “come in and get a lesson in how to use a new phone.” Lessons? Really?
I could have sworn phones were invented in the late 1800s, how complicated should they really be? We have progressed a long way from the old rotary phones of childhood. I’ve gone through the stages, spinning dials to digital, speed dial and multiple lines, now Blackberry’s and iPhones. I guess I deserve this frustration, I wanted a phone that had bells and whistles. I like the idea that it can keep my schedule and my contacts, take photos, and make me the occasional blueberry waffle. Is that really too much to ask?
Second confession: I’m finally sending my old phone away, it was a crutch. Now I must figure out the new one, I can’t keep giving up because I have the old one on my desk at home. Time to move on.
You know that little note that some people put in invitations “No Gifts Please?” I’ve seen it, I’ve laughed at it, I’ve ignored it. But now I want to try it myself. For Christmas this year, if I made your long list of people to shop for, please cross me off. I know its a lot to ask, breaking tradition and all. But when it comes right down to it this really matters to me, as a Christian but also as a person. I’ve never wanted for anything, and in all reality I don’t need anything. I have plenty of clothes, and more toys than any twenty something really needs.
I hope this doesn’t create division in my friends or family, but I’m really not doing gifts this year. Please don’t be insulted, put-off, annoyed or worried. I love you enough to show you my love. I’d rather $spend$ my time with you. I’ll be there, if not in body in spirit. We’ll talk, laugh, take photos, create memories. And for those I can’t see due to miles, we’ll make it happen. Christmas can be more than one day this year.
He opens by talking about a pretty well known book, Post Secret. I remember the first time I stumbled upon the book in Urban Outfitters, and couldn’t help but flip through page after page of anonymous confession. “I like to pee in swimming pools.” “I raped my own sister.” “I stole money and used it to feed the homeless.” I felt like a voyeur as I stood and looked into people’s souls through their disclosures of guilt. I couldn’t help but write a list in my own mind of the things I’d like to write on a post-card and submit for the world to read.
Loren’s sermon goes on to discuss the masks we wear. We all have them (some of us even have different costumes for different occasions). While he was speaking, I kept thinking that I’ve been wearing so many masks I might have forgotten what my face looks like. I voiced this concern when I visited SLC last month. I was getting ready to go climb with Kim, and I couldn’t bring myself to leave the bathroom without putting on make-up, I’ve gotten so used to painting the face before going out. The literal mask I’ve gotten used to, it felt like an indicator of the masks I’ve been hauling around with me. I actually looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself.
I think my confession would be that I enjoy the masks.
Do I want to know myself? Do I want to know my friends? Who would I tell my secrets to right now? Would they still like me if they knew my worst?
The greatest fear of man is that he will be found out. -John Eldredge
I’m obviously feeling quite analytical, my posts of late deal with numbers. I’m a nerd, we’ve known it for years. So the title of this refers to the approximate number of steps up Mt. Olympus in Salt Lake City.
It was exhausting and humbling. We were both sluggin along, but loved every minute. We talked about family, boys, spirituality, goals. Six hours of depth. The canyon was beautiful as the colors changed to amber and crimson. I felt like the season was unfolding under time lapse right before my eyes. Spectacular views were expected and delivered. I wonder how many steps it took? Asked and answered. The hike is only seven miles x 5,280 feet/mile /1.5 feet/step = 24,640. Thats a lot of steps.
I’m glad I didn’t calculate that before the hike, that would have made steps twelve and even two hundred seem daunting. Even the prospect was intimidating. That mountain has always seemed like a bastion in my life, standing guard over the people huddled at the base.
At the summit
When I was a freshman in college, I did research for a joint replacement team. We were interested in the amount of movement our bodies need to maintain bone density around a total hip or total knee. The ancient Japanese texts dictate 10,000 steps a day. This theory has been adopted by modern science (read-sports equipment advertisers) and now people wear small pedometers to measure their strides. Well, we did 24,640. That means I get to sit on my butt for a whole day, take that!
So I just filled up my gas tank, and at the risk of annoying my many audience members (<2 people I believe) I’m tempted to gloat. I just filled Cedric with 14 gallons of gas, and it only cost me $40. That’s the cheapest gas I’ve put in since I bought the little guy. My pocket book is thrilled! At this price, I can afford to drive across Texas someday.
Although my pocketbook feels swollen, I’m a bit worried. I was almost glad to see gas prices rise. I was hearing otherwise un-green people talk about ways to decrease their gas consumption, people carpooling, and a broad change in the way people purchase cars. My internal tree-hugger was glad to see oil prices rising.
Gas gauge
So now that little excitement is flipped around. Our economy is in the proverbial toilet, and we’re starting to see the effects all over the place. The analysts say that we’ll see it first in people’s little luxuries, i.e. lattes and jet setting. The idea is that frivolous spending will decrease, but we’ll keep zooming about in traffic, guzzling Chevron with Tecron. Since I’m a big girl (OK, I act like a big girl) I feel connected to the economy like I never hoped to. I felt happily isolated while in school, never worried about the costs of food rising or heating oil going through the roof. I can now understand the penny pinching that annoyed me so much, I understand why my family has never gone on vacation. Its so stressful.
That being said, I’m planning my next vacation, despite the responsibility I’m supposed to be buried under. Alaska anyone?
