How's Life?

I’ve been stuck in this mental place for awhile. It’s not necessarily a bad place, but it’s a quiet, unfamiliar place. It’s hard when you can’t take anything at face value; when you keep looking at the zigzags of miniature black and white boxes, but you still don’t see the picture…but you know it is in there…you just know it!


I’ve started several posts about my daughter, who is about to turn another year older (please God let me tell you how this is breaking my heart). I have started several posts about life in general in an attempt to be funny (but really, how funny am I…seriously…). I’ve got a lot going on in my personal life that I can’t put into words (all good stuff). I’ve also got a lot of nothing that I want to write about too.

It’s mental constipation, and it feels as bad as it sounds.

you can all just thank your lucky stars that I settled on this as my picture representation




P.S. this little beauty lives on my desk and taunts me with her crooked, gaping mouth. It’s tantamount to office psychological warfare when I have a deadline.

Kudzu

You either know what it is, or you do not. I cannot and will not explain its dual role in our world. I will note that it has an absolute strangle hold on The South, and when I look at it, I feel ambivalent because it is lush and green with long, purple flowers that dot the sea of leaves; however, it is a selfish killer. I think about kudzu a lot because it has ravaged the creek beds, and banks, and the accompanying hillsides that I run each week.



Today however, as I ran up to the entrance of the trail, I could not help but be overwhelmed by its beauty. It was everywhere. In fact, I was overwhelmed by its beautiful smell. The afternoon air was thick and warm and in it hung the most beautiful scent. It was so sweet and soft. I pulled hard on the air through my nose and allowed my head to swell with the contents of each breath. It was as I lifted my face to take these fat breaths that my eyes wondered to the swirling, clouded sky above me with its speckles of bright blue. The breeze that had been blowing over my body carried the noise of the flowers over me. This wind gifted me with a rare and full sense of touch to less mindful parts of my exposed skin. It was so delicate that my arms and legs and cheeks tingled. In my thoughts I joyfully prayed in unison with each foot striking the ground. I could hear leaves rustling, crickets rattling, birds madly chirping, swollen waters rushing past each lazy rock, and at moments...nothing. Each of my senses becoming more refined; each moment more unforgettable. My mind at rest, but my body at play in its movement and purpose. I felt wholly alive.



I am ever more grateful for this time...for the physical ability to run...and today, for the kudzu.

Hyperbole

i will be ammending my original marathon post and substituting with the words half marathon

Silver and Gold

I ran into my old friend, Karen, last night that I haven’t seen since she was in the hospital room with me the day after Clare was born. Her daughter was around Clare’s age now on that day. Since seeing her, I have been flooded with emotions ranging from happiness to sadness that I let all of this time slip away. I think her about all of the time and I really started wondering last night, “How in the world did three years pass and we just didn’t see each other? How does this happen in life?” This is a good person, someone I’ve laughed with, cried with, and played with. I was there when her first child, who is now in the 3rd grade, was born. He was the first baby I had ever held. She called me on her way into the hospital that night – I probably drove 100 m.p.h to get to the hospital on time because I had to drive 3 hours from Mobile to Montgomery and didn’t want to start my journey until morning. I gambled on her delivery time and won. Were it not for her, I might not have run back into Mason so many years ago here in Birmingham. She was in my wedding. She is the keeper of secrets that are old now, but not old enough that I have forgotten then. She is that kind of wonderful friend, not at all the kind you want to lose.

I suppose it happened gradually. The phone calls turned into emails, and the emails got further and further apart and just finally stopped because it’s just too hard to respond, or too easy to make excuses?

I hope I don't let that time get by me again. I don't think I will. I feel like I've been given a present!