Waiting game

The hardest thing to do is wait.

To know something, to believe in it, and then just wait around is torture.

It’s the not knowing half that does me in, but I’m strong enough to keep sticking it out for now, and smart enough to find a happy place in this, and to find the enjoyment in it all, in the waiting game.

I can easily cave into the ticking of the clock, sometimes I do, but I’m really working towards the enjoyment of the whole process instead, and looking forward it’s fulfillment.

The receptive mode

The receptive mode, that’s where I’ve been all day, and I think I’m beginning to prefer it more than other modes I have to choose from.

You could call it inspired, creative, motivated, feelin’ good, whatever, I just lump it all under receptive.

Being receptive is being open, open to new ideas, new trains of thought, new conversations, engaging in whatever activity that’s in front of you and being totally content to do so.

When your receptive your intuition is strong, so if you think of someone, don’t be surprised if you hear from them, or if you call them and they’re also in the receptive mode, they’ll probably pick up on the first ring and exclaim that they were just thinking about you!

It makes me more flexible.

I can think of a million wonderful things to do but  I’ve spent my day doing those annoying things that are constantly nagging at me in the back of my head. I do this on purpose because to do them when they are the most dreaded awful thing to do is so much harder than doing them when they’re really not so bad after all.

The nagging things left…

I might ignore them  because I need to linger in my receptive mode. Hopefully tomorrow will be the same way and I can get them accomplished.

Right now I have a sweet little piggy in my lap, and a sleepy baby (my dog) cuddled up beside me, so I’m just going to spend some time cherishing these lil animal babies.

A rampage

If you want to feel good listen to this. I have been listening to everyday lately, and there’s so much there to grasp it’s still sinking in.

I love this ladies response when asked what we would notice if we were in a state of appreciation.

Life in Xenia Ohio

Overall I’d say my town isn’t great or special for any reason, it’s also not terrible. Like most places it has a “good” side of town, and a “bad” side.

I moved around growing up, and have lived in many different places, big, small, good, bad, but honestly life itself tends to take the same general shape no matter where you move to.

People who have lived to long in one place don’t understand this, they don’t see the value in knowing an area, or seeing some in the grocery store that they can say hello to. They don’t know what it’s like to only hold memories, but never have someone to share them with.

I treasure these little parts of life. I love when it feels like a small world, or when someone turns to me and says “remember when…” because I know what it’s like to be an outsider, to only look in, but never fit it. It’s lonely to see people hugging old friends when no one has said hi to you is such long time.

How ever similar life is in each place, each place has it’s differences, which I can usually appreciate as well. I love small, local history.

Around here it’s the Shawnee Indian Tribe at the roots of history, then of course the fist few settlers, like the Galloway family. Also the destruction each generation seems to experience by tornadoes.

For some reason I imagine the ground here just absorbing it all, the loss, the hope, the death and new life.

It’s rare that I find another person interested in these things, however I go about collecting my data on local history. Sometimes it internet searches, other times it’s digging through piles of old books at the thrift stores, and at local used book store. Other times I find older people to talk to, I’ve become comfortable about this, and I really love the life experiences they have to tell about.

I’ve gone out exploring on foot, or my bike, to snoop around abandoned buildings, homes, and farms. I sneak glimpses into the past lives of our town. I know this is technically trespassing, but it’s done in the most respectful way possible, and I only venture onto property that is so overgrown and lost to decay that I know nobody is caring for it, or even watching over it. I don’t leave trash, I don’t vandalize, I might close a door that’s blown open, pet a stray cat, I’ve even run off destructive kids on numerous occasions.

I’ve tracked down property owners and contacted them with my questions. One let me take an old wardrobe from his old abandoned house, in return I offered to cut back the bushes and clean up the yard. I’ve never actually had anyone get mad at me even after I make it known that I’ve clearly snooped around their property. Most of them are decaying in their bodies just like the building they own, and they’re all sick of being nagged by the city to do repairs.

Anyways, I just thought I’d sit down and share this with people this morning because it’s a great way to distract yourself when your feeling crummy about the place you live. Sometimes you just have to take a look around, and find ways to appreciate things, even if it’s someone saying hi to you in the store, or that ugly house on the corner, or interesting little cabin.

cabin fevers kickin’ in

Sorry I’ve been out it lately. Thanksgiving always throws me off any normal routines in life.

I have blog reading I hope to get caught up on tomorrow.

So how was Thanksgiving? Ours went smoothly. It put some of my newer coping skills to the test, my goals where to stay calm before, during, and after, even if, especially if things went wrong somehow.

I think I made it through smoothly.

I’ve had cabin fever, with the kids being off school, and there’s something wrong with my truck.

However, I got away for a little bit tonight and it’s motivated me. I HAVE to finish a book I’m reading so I can start the new Harry Potter book.

I probably stared at my book selection for 15-20 min before I settled on it, I’m not a huge Harry Potter fan, but Fantastic Beast actually looks really good, and the main character is different.

I’ve just spent so much time at home keeping an eye on the kids, they consume your focus and energy. I loose sight on things, time blurs together. I just sit with my dog and my pig for long periods of time, watching the kids, trying to stay awake, or asleep, or trying in vain to clean.

The sinking ship

“You will never show up to the dock and realize your ship has already sailed, there will always be another; and another…”

-Ester Hicks

I read about and research different ships and shipwrecks.

So to me, what Ester is saying in her quote is that it takes a lot of faith to board that ship sometimes, but it’ll always be there waiting for you.

The other day at the thrift store I found to many deals to  act on. My favorite is this beautiful picture of Marlyn Monroe.

It now hangs beside me.

It has a quote, something like “good things fall apart so better things can fall together”.

I’ve loved her since 4th grade, and  read that quote so many times, I just thought she was clever with words.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I’m always searching for answers, for new ways of thinking, of looking out at the world.

Ive been through hell and back numerous times (although I don’t always go into details here)

I want to make sense of life, most of all I just want to be happy.

I realize this can be easy or hard, depending on how you approach it.

Marylyn knew that when things begin to fall apart we run around trying to pick up the peices and frantically attempt to put it back together again.

This feels good because we’re “doing something” about it.

But she follows that thought with “so better things can fall together”

Things just falling together suggest a more hands off approach to me.

I’m pretty sure she meant that all those broken peices can only transform into something better, if we let them.

Its like waiting on that second or third ship.

We are waiting because of the fear we are operating in. “What if it sinks again?”

If it sinks, things fell apart, but they will fall back together also. But we’ll never experience any of that if we don’t even board the ship.







I wish somebody knew how it felt to be me the weeks/days/hours before Thanksgiving.

I wish somebody would listen. I don’t re-live things willingly, and that’s the only way it doesn’t come out weird and cold.

People assume I am weird and cold,  really I’m honest and hurt.

It doesn’t make much of a difference to me, what people think, or how they see me. That’s their business; not mine.

But this past of mine still comes back to haunt me.