Home sick and medicated today.  Medication does funny thing to my body: sometimes it takes double does before any difference is noticed and other times, it throws me through a loop without much effort.
Picture
Today...apparently, I attempted to walk with Oakley through the canyon, chasing who knows what, before I got cold and the fever came back.
Picture
It's always a surprise to upload photos on a day like this. . . I'm never sure what I am going to end up seeing.
Picture
It was a brisk morning, despite the sun attempting to make its way from behind the clouds.  There was ice on my steps until 11am.  I'm still trying not to completely transition into the full winter mode yet, I don't want autumn to be done yet.
Picture
In the mean time, it's one foot in front of the other.  Trying to enjoy the moments while I can.
Picture
 
 
Fear.

 A four letter word that seems to have a tremendous amount of weight behind it that can not only infiltrate our lives, but completely destroy them if we are unable to keep it reigned in.

Fear of the unknown.  Fear of routine.  Fear of failing.  Fear of succeeding.  Fear of being alone.  Fear of genuinely falling in love.  Fear of following passions.  Fear of letting go and trusting.

For a long time I tried to not to believe in fear; that is, I tried to convince myself that I did not fear, not because I thought I was invincible but because life is inevitable.

 
 
It's one of those days that you can't really tell what time it is or when dawn even occurred because it's completely gray and hazy.  There usual welcoming morning sun is not trying to get through my curtains and call to me to explore my day.


I love days like this.  Not all the time, but the low-key mindset that they seem to procure does me well; it allows my soul to recharge, if even only for a brief moment.


In and out of sleep last night, despite being worn out physically, mentally, and emotionally. This morning seems to promise more.  Part of me yearns to take a long run deeper into the mountain trails with Oakley; the other part simply wants to curl up with my tea, a book and blanket in front of a nice fire.


. . .  Off to make life happen. . .

 
 
I keep laughing at myself, just for being completely run down. I have good intentions, goals, and desires but sometimes even with sleep I simply am worn out, like living in a complete haze. Either everything is moving 100 mph around my usual speed or I have suddenly and accidentally been stuck in slow motion as the rest of the world continues on without me.
 
I have been having several conversations with children about death lately. It is a natural phenomena and a curious yet fearful stage that most people go through at least once in their lives.
 
The combination of these conversations and my general zombie like feeling has led me to wonder about life's continuation after death. The children are scared of being alone; the windblown effect of my semi-conscious/active state has left me literally in the dust. I do often wonder not only what it would be like to view one's own memorial service as an outsider, but also to witness the daily events after death as well, to see how life continues on.


 
 
Sometimes it's worth letting go, maybe not completely but enough to loosely hold the reigns barely within your fingertips. It's just enough to have faith in things working themselves out but to still have a base in reality.
 
This is one of the most difficult steps that one can take, to relinquish control over that which we desire for the most.  Our lives, our dreams, our hearts, our destiny seem to be things that can control us the most, for either positive or negative directions.  These pull us down paths that we normally would not dare venture, through hesitation and the unknown.  Yet they seem to inspire us the most as well.  It is these things that can light up our world and continue to lead us through even the darkest moments.
 
It’s the balance of desire and need for control that we must find comfort in if we are to be able to be successful (in any manner) in life.


 
 
I have been the most petite of my family for sometime now.  When my family pays me a visit, they like to give me grief and play light hearted practical jokes on me.  Most of which I have become accustomed to and simply laugh about.
Picture
Ironically, although I am not tall, I am not particularly short either.  But in most newer homes with higher ceilings, shelves and cabinetry I do often require assistance in utilizing the upper most shelves.  My home is not new and doesn't have out of the ordinarily tall ceilings or fixtures.  Yet, this card is just out of reach without standing on a chair, stool, or something else to gain about 6" in addition to my tip-toes.


It has now been there for almost a week.  I have made no effort to remove it.  It makes me laugh, and more than that it bothers others that I have not taken it down.  Ignoring it and shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly helps in adding to the general frustration.  


I think it shall stay there until the ceilings need Cloroxed or my brother returns from his deployment, whatever comes first.  After all, it makes me smile anytime I actually catch it out of the corner of my eyes (not a direct gaze because I don't actually spend most of my free time staring endlessly at the ceiling around me).
 
 
“Souls are like athletes, that need a worthy opponent in order to be challenged to attain their full potential.  Your difficulties are great because you are.” –Thomas Merton
 
We all have challenges and burdens in our lives.  I believe we are faced with these for a reason; to be challenged, to help our character grow, to learn a lesson or two, to gain a new perspective, to instill respect.  But I also believe that it is up to us to decipher and interpret how we let these experiences shape our personas and our views of the world.
 
I heavily believe in the importance of respecting the circle of life, this includes the inevitability of death (be it plant, pet or person).  It can be a difficult hurdle as we loose the ones we love and inspire us, but ultimately we must learn to cherish and hold on to the moments that we were able to share with them, rather than choose to linger on in their absence, forgetting to continue living ourselves.