Over Thought

I’m in a talking mood today, and unfortunately for you, I currently live alone and my baby boy is asleep, so I figure writing would be a fine substitution…. Some nights I don’t sleep well because there are too many thoughts swirling around in my mind. It’s almost as if the processing that’s supposed to be done by your subconscious when you sleep, begins too soon, and I am well aware of it’s work. Last night was one of those nights. I can’t remember exactly what my mind chatter was all about. It was too much like standing in one spot on the platform of a busy train station. Too  many thoughts coming and going; hitching rides together and disappearing before I had a chance to grasp what they were all about. I was just aware of the constant motion, the disorderly organization of it all.

I think I over think things. I have always been this way though, for as long as I can remember, and as far as I know, it’s not intentional. I wrote a post a while ago about being stuck in the past, or looking back too often… I believe that is because I spend too much time in my head. I’m not the cerebral type at all. Don’t confuse me with someone who doesn’t have or choose to respond to their feelings. I think this blog alone paints a pretty accurate picture of that.

I just like to mull things over. To take a thought or idea and write it down on binder paper, old school style. To tear it apart into it’s smallest components and wonder why it is the way it is. I wonder why people are the way they are – and it must be the things they think but don’t dare say, much of who I am is what is written on these pages… the thoughts I could never just say aloud. I could sit here and wonder how I got here for hours. Especially because this isn’t where I thought I would be a year ago.. no where near who I thought I would be at the beginning of college.

It makes me wonder how much God is involved on a daily basis. I was saved when I was thirteen, but spent much of my teen years off doing my own thing. Now that I am back to praying daily, what affect does He have exactly? What would my life be like if I couldn’t believe, if there weren’t that calling in my heart? Why did I need to believe when the rest of my family doesn’t?

Why me.. I spend my free time meditating and reflecting and I think it makes me a better person, but that’s not to say someone who never takes a second to analyze their life is wrong. I wonder what it would be like to live that way for a week. I wonder if I would be any different.

I have friends that think my life is over because I’m this old, married and with a baby on the way. What they don’t know, is that I want to tell them that they are too afraid to start living. The social, party scene was never my thing.  It’s like a rut I see them get caught in. Work or school all week, Friday hits (TGIF by the way) and it’s once again time to pre-game for a weekend spent drinking and hanging out with other people who are stuck in the same way you are. People who are on the same “train” as you.

I feel like in many ways the decision to get married wasn’t mine to make. It was the path I inherently knew was mine to take. And I do take ownership for standing there, repeating vows that I didn’t remember but a second later. I was in the moment but out of it. It was life changing. It was one of those decisions that forces you to move away from who you were. Having a baby will be the same. It’s no wonder my friends think I’ve reached the end of all the good times in my life.. they can’t see the grass is still green on the other side from where they are standing. They can’t possibly know.

And so there you have it. A peak into what my mind is like the morning after a night of little rest. Tonight I hope to fall asleep and just sleep, but with a baby boy bouncing around all night, it’s highly unlikely that will happen. I almost don’t want to post this publicly.. because who really wants to read this? But it is my blog for saying the things I can’t say out loud; for writing the things I don’t think anyone would care to read. Let’s be honest, most days my page gets two hits, and one is probably me, signing in. I’m ok with that.

Summer Soon

I was thinking I owed it to anyone who might still read this thing to post something besides a weekly update, but all I’ve got are a bunch of random thoughts on my mind.

It felt like summer earlier this week. Was bright and sunny, like we brought back a part of CA to the typically gloomy Washington skies. Didn’t last long though, because it is once again an overcast and misty day out there. Was sunny long enough for me to buy a hoola hoop though, in the spirit of summer and all. I’m going to see if I can get Graham to jump through it, even though he really isn’t that great at jumping. And then I’ll get to see if I’m still any good at hula hooping. Haha! A gym I used to work out at in SoCal had weighted hula hoops and they were the best at working out your abs while standing up. It was either use the muscles, or squish your kidneys which never really felt all that awesome. That’s part of the reason I suspect – despite this little fat covering I’ve got on my belly – that it will be a long time before I’m honestly “showing” or have “popped.” I’m okay with that though. Less stretching = less stretch marks.

I’m still fighting off this cold. Had a major coughing fit as I walked into Target which was less than ideal considering all the stares I got. I know, sick people suck, but I’ve still got shopping to do and finally have the energy to leave the house for more than cold medicine. Oh! Speaking of shopping, I’m going to challenge myself to cook a wider variety of dinners. I’m in a major food rut of pasta, shake and bake chicken, salad w/ranch dressing. Things that are fine every once in a while, but have become far too easy to make way too often. I want more variety. And I also want to start making a salad as part of our meals every night for dinner. Doing the dishes together after that,  and going on walks afterwards. It’s time for some change.

I really wish I could be grocery shopping right now, as our fridge doesn’t have much besides yogurt, pickles and condiments in it. I feel the need to clarify that the pickles are for me, but not because I’m pregnant, just because they are delicious with a turkey and cheese sandwich. Instead of shopping for lunch foods and dinner foods, I am instead stuck here waiting for a plumber to come give me an estimate of what it will cost to clean the massive root invasion in our sewer line. The line that runs diagonally down our entire front yard. The same one I am hoping they can just jet (clean) and not have to dig a trench and replace because that would look seriously awful for a long time. Fingers crossed! The joys of home ownership; always something that needs fixing/replaced/worked on/painted. Anyway, I think I’ve about said enough for now. Going to make myself a sandwich for lunch and then take Graham a lamb out for some fetch in the yard. That is, if he actually feels like retrieving the ball today, unlike yesterday when he just looked at it.

Too Many Words

I have kept a journal for years. I am sure that at some point, that has come up in one of my posts before. It helps me mind dump before the day is over; helps me sleep at night knowing that I don’t have to pay any attention to the thoughts swirling around in my mind because they are already written down. I stopped writing (mostly) daily after I graduated from college. And I try to write most days in my pregnancy journal now..

I sometimes look back on where I was two or three or four years ago on that day… usually when I’m bored, or reminiscing, or “find” my journals after a move. Three years ago today I was counting down the days until summer, and until my wisdom teeth were to be removed. Two years ago today I was procrastinating final projects, and waiting to leave for Hawaii. Those were the days I would give everything to just hug my long distance boyfriend – who just happens to be my husband now. The days we still talked like best friends, would spend all our money on gas just to see each other for a weekend and counted down the days until we could be together every day.

I always thought what I had to say was so important, but it is honestly mostly whining about life, rushing through college and waiting for the future. The most interesting parts are actually the margins, not the posts themselves. I wrote the most random crap in the margins.. February 21st, 2009 :: “I hope my life doesn’t become.. “better in theory.”.. May 10th, 2008 :: “Life isn’t about you. It’s about the impact you make, if any at all.”

These journals are getting old. Ink bleeding through pages and they smell like a dorm room.I wrote about everything, anything that crossed my mind. I wonder if it’s possible, but I sometimes felt like I had more thoughts than other people. Like my mind over-complicated even the simple things and it was and still is a jumble of words on lined paper. There’s this quote that I have always felt suited me perfectly by Blaise Pascal, “I have made this letter longer, because I have not had the time to make it shorter.” I am wordy to the core. My english teachers in high school knew it and graded me down for it and I am wordy now, subjecting all of you, whoever you are, to random, long posts about nothing.

What do you care if I write journals? And who am I kidding, I know you have to “hook” your readers in the first two sentences or they get bored of what you have to say and move on. I should start saying really cool/random/weird stuff at the end of my posts just because of that.. Hmm.. I really can’t think of anything random, but I can’t get this off my mind :: “The trouble with being revolutionary and making waves is that sometimes a big wave sneaks up and tries to drown  you.” – me, today.

Limitless and Immeasurable

Before starting this blog, I had forgotten how much I like writing just to write. It’s like talking just to hear your own voice, except these words are rarely spoken aloud unless I am proofreading. I kept journals all through high school and college for the same reason. It’s not that I think what I have to say is particularly important or needs to be shared, but that I like blabbing about things; about anything really.

Seeing what I think and feel, or rather articulating what I think and feel, helps me understand myself and where I am coming from. It helps close some of the windows that keep popping up in my life. To get that, you probably have to have heard the analogy of our brains being just like computers. For the most part, men can just “X” out of windows whenever they like. When they are done thinking about something they close the window and they move on. Women, on the other hand, can only usually minimize the window and like an overloaded computer, the windows sometimes pop back up or become frozen and thus demand attention. I find this analogy works very well for me, and most people I know. You may find yourself to be different, and should probably consider yourself lucky.

Lately, a particular phrase keeps popping up in my  mind. Actually, its more of a quote type thing that I thought while driving to pick Logan up from work one day, and quickly wrote in a note on my phone.

“Overwhelmed by the thought that adult life is often limitless and immeasurable.”

Have you ever felt that way? ………. The more I think about it, the more true it becomes and the better it represents my attitude towards life at the current time. As kids, there was always school; homework, papers to be written, assignments to be done. When we accomplished those small goals, they amounted to moving on to the next grade, the next school, the next step. But after college, and besides intra-work promotions, what kind of grading system is there? For someone like me, who thrives under stress and structure, where can I find that sort of motivation? There doesn’t seem to be any.

Being an adult is at it’s core, limitless. I could do whatever I want – and of course there are those things that I should do, like get a job; and there are those things that I could do, like have a baby; and then there are those things that I have already done, such as buy a house and get a puppy. But there is no one to say what I have to do anymore, except for me, except for maybe standards and guidelines set forth by God and my peers, but really those are all up to my interpretation anyway.

And how do measure the accomplishments of adulthood anyway? You don’t get a fancy certificate saying “Congratulations, you bought a house!”…or anything of that sort. Where is my Life tile that rewards me with $200,000 when I retire because I graduated from college. Why can’t having kids be as simple as picking a card from a deck and finding out we’re having twin boys? It’s weird and probably only something I take time to consider, but who is to say how I should or could better spend this sunny afternoon, where I have a bit of headache and a mind full of thoughts? There is no one.

Peace, love and happy wondering wherever you are, from me,