Sunday, December 31, 2017

Celebrating 7 years of crochet

I finished my first crochet project the last week of December in 2011. But I didn't really get into it until April 2012 when for the first time ever I went to church. Crochet has always been that thing I can do well, but not because I actively seek new patterns or new stitches...but because I enjoy it.

I enjoy finding new colors and creating new things. Even if it's the same hat pattern forever and ever. I think I've made close to 200 hats since 2011. I just enjoy crocheting. It’s something to do. It’s better than watching TV, though crocheting while watching TV is super fun.

And though I only enjoy the art of bringing that yarn through the the loops and chains...it’s okay. I don’t have to look at new patterns, new yarns, new stitches, new hooks. All I need is one strand, one hook, and an idea in mind to create.

Happy crochet anniversary to me.

Wednesday, December 20, 2017

A Sign of the Times

A friend messaged me that he had gray hair. So I responded that I’ve had gray hair since I was 15. You know, it’s just the way I roll. There’s no sympathy for gray hair. I would call my gray hair pepper gray hair. That awkward stage between a gray head with white specks and a black head with white specks. My hair being black with white specks.

When I first discovered my gray hair I was upset though. And sometimes I forget that. I forget what it’s like to be upset about something for the first time. Or sad about something for the first time. It’s been a real long time since I experienced those types of feelings because I live day to day in a constant state of urgency to get to the next day.

And that’s been tough. What I’m feeling is like PTSD except it’s not because I can’t embrace that I have PTSD. I have such a sour opinion of myself still that I cannot let myself honor my feelings. These feelings that are mine, I’ve just always hid them like a child hides when they break something.

I’m like a child in that regard. If I feel joy, I hide it. If I feel pain, I hide it. When I hurt, I pretend I don’t. When I suffer, I smile more boldly because I don’t give my suffering a chance to know itself. But we need both. I need both. I need to nurture these feelings, FEEL them, and let them heal and grow into strength. Like the jalapeno who becomes spicier when faced against the elements. I too, must harvest the suffering, the joy, the pain, and everything in between to be me.

Sunday, December 17, 2017

Today

Today for the first time in recent memory
I waved at the reflection in the mirror

A low and crackling candle sat on the counter
While I washed my hands

A smile whispered out of the corner of the frame
And my reflection jumped into view

I waved and the smile was meant for
me

Monday, December 11, 2017

Magical Thoughts

I asked my social worker for a list of Bible quotes regarding waiting. That led to a list of quotes about patience. And upon further reading, the quotes are not a one stop shop for patience nor waiting. But that’s the way any reading is--it’s the blueprint to a deeper meaning. And sometimes that deeper meaning is only accessible with what we interpret around our lives.

The quote coming from the over-quoted passage in 1 Corinthians 13:4-5 about love. Perhaps you’ve heard of love? Love is patient, kind, it does not envy; nor does it boast because it’s not proud. If you read further you will see another over-quoted passage that speaks about growing into adulthood by leaving childish things behind.

Have you associated both passages to the final verse in that section, aka 1 Corinthians 13:13? Paraphrased, Apostle Paul says that as an adult--or a mature being, we are to abide by faith, hope, and love. But of all three the greatest is love.

That’s magical in the child-like sense of magic...to leave childish worries aside to leave insecurities and doubt--could we just have faith, hope, and love? What a clandestine thought, if we just held each other in faith. If we just held hope for each other. If we loved each other. Well, if we did all three we’d have a very blessed world.

At its root. If we had faith in ourselves and our personal relationship in Christ. If we had hope in ourselves and our talent, treasure, and time. If we had love for ourselves to know that we are nothing more than clay refined by the flame of our Lord. Yet because we ARE molded by our maker we ARE more than just clay in the earth.

If I could open a box in my mind and be filled with all these magical thoughts. That I could be filled with faith in myself, hope in myself, and love in myself. If I had these, then maybe I’d finally reach the other end of this severe depressive and anxious crisis in my life. Then maybe I’d be magical inside and out. Shining even to myself.