Sorting

I am still debating, sorting through my interests in the hope of one day going back to school. So this post might be a little disjointed; it's just me tossing my thoughts around.

I am quite sure I want to study language — but English or foreign studies? Or even the physiological aspects of language? Communication? If there were a course of study called "Language and the Brain", I would be there in a heartbeat.

Last night I was looking up the Greek and Latin translations of different words, and I realize I would love to study Latin. It opens up parts of my brain for understanding English better. Greek is a little more difficult because I keep forgetting which sounds go with which letters.

But I doubt one can go to school just to learn Latin. What shall I be when I grow up? A journalist? A speech therapist? A literacy specialist? I'm not sure I want to get an English degree and end up teaching, unless perhaps it was tutoring one-on-one.

Hmmm, but no, I wouldn't want to be an au pair unless I was taking care of only one child. But then the child would have to be school-age, and if he or she was, I might then have to teach all lessons, not just English, or else the kid would be in school all day and my position as au pair would be moot.

Perhaps I may need to talk with the English professor at the college whom I spoke with once before. How shall I find out about the different language professions?

Sanctuary

Yesterday I was at a wedding shower at a very beautiful house. The restroom was painted in a rich, reddish earth-tone, with few decorations other than some white accents, and a framed painting on the wall with the verse underneath it, "As the deer pants for water, so my soul longeth after thee."

It felt like a sanctuary, where I could finally be in God's presence, without life seeping in around the edges. No distractions.

Each time I visited the restroom, I was reminded that deep, hidden in my soul, is this excruciating longing for God, and God alone. To finally, one day, be in his presence, surrounded by light and laughter. And to feel his presence here on Earth, growing inside of my soul like a flower beginning to blossom.

I need to seek out those solitary places where I can hear God better. Last week there was a spot of sun on a windy day, and it caught my breath. I can feel the ocean calling for me.

It does this in spring, as the days begin to lighten and the wind picks up. I am reminded of the force of the wind and ocean together, awakening my heart to the awesome power of God. And I am reminded that the God who created the wind and ocean with all their force loves me with a love even stronger. And the God who created the delicate primrose and unfolds its petals to the sky — he loves me with a love just as tender.

Naptime with Jesus

I found my backed-up files with the old pics I borrowed off the Interwebs, and here is a sweet one that I realize I must have forgotten to share. But I was certain that I did... hmm... not sure where it would have gone though.

And I'm not sure what happened to dreamingofkittens.com, but it doesn't seem to exist anymore. I have linked the image to icanhascheezburger.com, which has the pic posted on their site.

Emotional Update

I had a meltdown yesterday.

I'm good at stuffing down my emotions and not dealing with them, and this is an example of the implosion that is possible with such an explosive mix of compounds compressed inside the soul.

For example, my muscles have been seizing up. Not so much charlie-horses, but a slow and steady compression which may or may not be causing my brief bits of dizziness and an odd spell of numbness in the right side of my face yesterday. I guess if muscles get tight enough, they can constrict nerve impulses and blood vessels. My chiropractor said that if symptoms get worse, I should be checked out at the hospital, because there are some disorders which can cause symptoms like that.

But thinking about such things seems to cause me more anxiety, and thus assumedly cause the muscles to constrict further. So today I have been trying to find all of the cute and funny pictures I have borrowed off the Interwebs so I can have them going as a slideshow on my desktop. I'll try to share some of them soon.

I might also have to clear some space on the floor for pilates or light aerobic exercise. It would be too much stress to find a comfortable, modest swimsuit for the Y just yet.

Flower Essence

I called my nutritional counselor a few minutes ago to see which supplements she would recommend that I take (or not take) right now, since I needed to make an order to replace some things I got from her, mostly just things like omega-3 oil, probiotics, and digestive enzymes.

I didn't tell her anything about my current emotional state (rather depressed, lonely, and generally morose (you can read my previous post about it)), other than that I had been sick lately. But she also does muscle-testing to see which supplements I should take, and she said that a certain flower essence tested very strongly for me.

The name of it? It's called "Release It (Vented Grief Formula)".

As she was reading off the names of the herbs in it, I had to laugh inwardly a bit as I considered my post from yesterday. Here is the synopsis of the herbal formula:

Benefits:

• May assist the body with the grieving process.
• May help in letting go of the past.
• May assist with emotional distress.

Ingredients:
Self-Heal (Prunella vulgaris), Love Lies Bleeding (Amaranthus caudaius), Chicory (Cichorium intybus), Bleeding Heart (Dicentra formosa), Chrysanthemum (Chrysanthemum morifolium), Borage (Borago officinalis), Star Thistle (Centauria solstitialis), vegetable glycerin and purified water.

I think I may just have to try this, simply because of the fact that she knew nothing about my current woes. If nothing else, I can receive it as a message from God saying, "Even I read your post. Let it go!"

In fact, earlier today I was complaining to my psychiatrist that I need emotional healing, but I just haven't found a counselor who is able to help me with it. She suggested taking a very low-dose antidepressant to help me get through spring.

I, on the other hand, would rather suffer the ignominy of water aerobics before trying that, so I'd better get cracking and find a non-cotton swimsuit that they will let me wear in the pool at the Y.

Comfort Food

It's a wonder what a little butter can do.

Tonight I made mashed sweet potatoes, although technically I used yams, which are not sweet potatoes. But "mashed sweet potatoes" sounds so much better than "mashed yams". Also, most "mashed yam/sweet potato" recipes are sweet and cinnamony, but I just couldn't handle that with supper.

So here are my mashed yams, accompanied by spinach leaves moistened with Brianna's French Vinaigrette, the tartness of which complemented the sweetness of the yams quite well:

I boiled the diced yams with some thickly-diced garlic and sea salt, then added butter and basil as I was mashing it. It was quite good; the only fault I could find in it was that there was not enough of it, and I wanted more.

But perhaps again, the Lord is showing me that inspiration is closely linked with tribulation.

Reset Button

There are a few things in life that work like a reset button. Sleep, for example. Or a hot cup of tea. Or a walk outside in the fresh air.

I tried to nap, but I couldn't get comfortable. For one thing, my throat has been feeling odd, a bit like it is sharing its space with a garden hose. And my head is feeling stuffy, as if the aforementioned hose were pumping gallons of salty brine into my cranial regions. Plus my clothing was bunchy.

I went outside to get something from my car, but the brief walk depressed me. Grey drizzle hung in the air; an eternal twilight. It's one of those winter days where one can't be too sure that the sun even exists anymore.

I also tried the cup of tea; it was soothing and warm and gave my weary soul pause, but it didn't reach the maximum potential of resettedness.

So I came here to write.

And I found my previous post, with the funny videos, which helped lift my bedraggled soul a few inches off the ground. I am picturing it kind of like a pet on a leash, being dragged behind me on the ground. It refuses to stand up and walk on its own today.

I can't say I know all of the reasons for it,  but I think one reason my soul is being so cantankerous is that it learned that a former crush is engaged to be married. And when former crushes engage in such alarming behavior, it alerts the soul to the possibility that current crushes might just as easily do the same.

And so my soul lays there on the floor, refusing to get up.

But this can't be the only reason. There is also the fact that I haven't been able to find a good price for a ticket to Hawaii. The airlines can smell Spring Break coming — it probably smells like high school jocks — so the ticket prices hover around $700.

But even if I found an amazing price, it's a little late, considering that my grandma's time-share week begins next Friday (a week and 4 days), and I have yet to go shoe-shopping again. It wears me out so much. And I couldn't really wear my leather loafers in Hawaii.... nor my furry winter boots. ;op

And on top of it all, I finished reading a soul-stirring story of a real-life romance. They were meant for each other —he a chef, and she a gluten-free blogger.

Such stories both encourage and frustrate me. I long for someone to spend my life with, someone to take care of me. Someone who has found his calling and pursues it passionately. A man on fire for God. One who can make me laugh when my soul is dragging behind me on the floor. And he should have a childlike sense of wonder at the complexities of God's creation. And he must, absolutely must, possess the capacity to be as silly as I am.

This, this depresses me. Does he exist?

And if he did...

He would really have be like Jesus to overlook all of my deficits. A husband needs a wife, not just a girl who dotes on him.

I am quite sure a man doesn't go out searching for a sweet, kind girl beleaguered with illness and handicaps. He looks for a Proverbs 31 woman — and she gets up while it's still nighttime!

I say, "Pff!" They can have each other!

I think I'll just lie here on the floor next to my soul.

{Move over, you're poking me in the back!}

Prawns with Breakfast

This morning as I waited for my breakfast to bake, I realized that some King Prawn would be a necessary addition to my morning meal. And I was quite... well, just shocked, you know — that I can't find a link in all of my 753 blog posts to a video of Pepe The King Prawn. So I am rectifying that in this post.

I am finding that Pepe ranks right up there next to Inigo Montoya, even above my newfound friend Featherstone (from Gnomeo & Juliet).

[If you are viewing this post via email or in a list on my main page, you may need to click on the link to the post in order to see the videos. But I'm not sure.]


Here's Pepe at his finest:

And the introduction of Featherstone:

Heart Perspective & Spelling Reformation

On Valentine's Day I volunteered in my Favoritest Auntie L's classroom (I believe she teaches first grade, but it might be a mixed class).

There is something about helping first-grade children that gives one perspective. Perhaps it's the way their eyes light up when they are telling you something important. Or how so many things are new to them.

You can see how wide and distant the future is for them. Like spokes on a giant wheel, infinite pathways spread out from them in every direction, each glowing with an electric current of potential.

So many choices to make, so many new options becoming available on a daily basis.

It gives me perspective.

- - - + + + + + - - -

I sat at a table outside the classroom to call back a child at a time for them to read through their practice book. Observing how difficult it is for some children to sound out words, it's a wonder that they don't just give up altogether.

I mean, there's all these seemingly randomly-placed letters which change each others' sounds, and letters like 'd' and 'b' which look an awful lot alike. And in the book they were reading, the 'a' looked quite a lot like an 'o', just with a microscopic tail above and below the right-hand-side. And then there are letter-combinations like 'sh' and 'ch' that one must learn by memory, because on paper they don't offer any hint of their proper sound.

After listening to only about four children read, I'm almost ready to join the spelling-reformation camp. Let's replace 'sh' with a letter of its own. We could have '+' make the 'sh' sound. We could write 'shoe' like '+u'. Wouldn't that be a lot easier? ;o)

English spelling is a catastrophe.

- - - + + + + + - - -

After the reading "lessons", I sat down at a table to observe the Valentine's Day mayhem and perhaps eat one of the gluten-free cupcakes my mom had made for my sister's birthday party last week.

But a seemingly-alienated girl transferred her Valentine box over to my table and started jabbering at me excitedly about various and sundry things. She seems the teacher's pet, but I could be mistaken. Some children bond better with adults than their peers, because most adults will listen, rather than dismiss them, as disinterested children will.

This girl (we'll call her Nettie) had freckles, if I remember correctly, and glasses. Glasses often seem to alienate a child. She asked if I could help her make Valentine decorations (she pointed out the two Valentine decorations on the wall, saying emphatically, "We need more than that.")

She also explained that there was a plethora (she didn't use that word) of useable paper in the recycling bin, which would be perfect for making decorations.

Indeed, there were pink sheets of discarded paper in the recycling bin, which we fished out and carried to the table. As we began cutting out paper hearts, a few more stragglers gravitated toward our table. Soon I was remembering how to make a chain of paper hearts and accordion-folding strips of paper so the others could make some too.

Ah, such simple things astound the young, or at least the young who have not yet been jaded by life.

- - - + + + + + - - -

This brief look into infinity brought youth to my bones. I had much more energy today.