I was recently running, nothing unusual. As I was running, I noticed something on the ground. It was right where my heel should land in stride, but I pushed out further to avoid squishing it's life out from him. It wasn't until I barely missed, that I realized it was a hornet. I hoped it wouldn't pop up quickly and sting me so I said, "Please show me mercy, as I have you."
But as I continued on, my mind was brought to a new point: What if I was meant to kill that hornet? Humans are given free will. Whether you're a Christian or not, you can know that your actions are your own. Nobody is pulling the strings. The difference lies in the reason behind our choices, usually. And no, this isn't necessarily a God post, but it also cannot be. So follow me on this journey through my heart and mind. God did not force me to go and run at the exact time that I did. He didn't force me into the path that I chose to run. I was allowed to awaken when I did and run. But what if he did have that hornet on the ground at just that time knowing my stride length, the path I would take, every little detail? What if he knew something bad would happen if that hornet was left alive and made sure he dropped to the ground when I would be the conquering hero to destroy it, but I chose to give it mercy? Heavy thoughts for a morning run. I think this happens more often than we would like to admit. We long to be the good guy. We want to do what is right. But we don't always know what is right or wrong. Keeping the hornet alive is the right thing to do to honor God's creations. But what if that hornet flew up and stung a child? What if that hornet sent a human into anaphylactic shock? They are alone in their yard when they get stung, not knowing they are allergic, and go into the house alone only to die. I could've prevented it if I would have just stomped that nasty hornet out of existence! Or not. Maybe I did the right thing after all. We see this when it comes to the beggar on the street. If we give them money, they could go get a meal. Or they can use the money for drugs or alcohol. It's then a debate of whether or not we should give them money. For many of us, we try to pray over it and listen for the voice of God or a nudge on our hearts. Sometimes we offer to get them food instead of giving money. Some of us give money and pray that they will use it well or say we did our job to provide. But we really don't know. We could have enabled a habit or stifled hunger. It's out of our control. How often do we do this in everyday situations? (Prepare for the bus, Charlie.) My husband does this often. He loves to "help" me. Usually his help ends up causing some sort of problem- it wasn't done well, I have to redo it, it needed to be done after something else or before something else. You know how it works. Spouses seem to have a magical way of screwing up nice gestures. We do this as parents. We help our kids or don't immediately help to teach a life lesson, or some other thing. Did it hurt them in the immediate? Did it hurt in the long run? We don't know. We won't know until time passes. I'm not sure I have a solution for the hornet effect (previously the butterfly effect, but nobody steps on butterflies unless they're psychotic). It's just something that has made me think. Perhaps we should all think about our actions more.
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We live in an age where self care is considered not only a norm, but a necessity. I've struggled with this idea for a very long time. No matter how much I see the benefit, I feel selfish. Why should I get the chance to sit in a tub for an hour? Why would I spend money on getting my hair or nails done? Sure, I take care of the kids. I take care of the majority of household chores. I lesson plan, make fitness plans, keep the budget, and on and on. But so do a lot of people. What kind of care do I need?
I look at the people who regularly do self care and I am filled with so many questions. Some of these questions are: How do you have this much money? Is your life that stressful? What is it that you do? All of those questions have less to do with the people I look at, and more to do with me. It isn't about how much they make, it's about where my heart is while I see them enjoying themselves. I don't know them. I don't know if they work three jobs to pay the bills and have a little extra on the side. I don't know if people give them gift cards. I don't know if they're horribly in debt and just continually bleeding and don't know how to make it stop. And you know what? I don't have to know. It's none of my business. But after seeing so many people take the plunge of self care, I started to wonder. Why do we need self care? Society has us doing so much, we have anxiety and depression. We're worn out from being all the things for all the people. We wear hat after hat. It's exhausting. And we try to recover with an hour here and an hour there. That hour feels like heaven. Then we pick up our phones again and see that we missed an important call, or our kids need something, or some other trivial thing that America has taught us should be important. I can't bring myself to a regular indulgence of self care due to guilt. Take a bath? But I'm leaving my kids who just want to spend time with me. Go out alone? But my husband works, he needs alone time too. But I'm beginning to make some changes. I don't call it self care, I just do it because I can. A sugar scrub in the shower once a week is refreshing. A massage every so often, needed. Doing my nails and hiding in the bathroom when I should be writing a book? Hey, the nails will look nice while I'm signing other books. The biggest problem with self care is not the concept or the price (though, come on - some of it is crazy expensive). The problem is that our lives are so off-kiltered that we need to schedule times to refresh ourselves. We need to learn balance and boundaries. Those two items should be the foundation of your self care. Without them, it's just a band aid on a bullet hole. Stop trying to play keeping up with the Joneses. Stop letting work walk all over you. Don't let others guilt you. Be a human. Fully human. Find quiet. Find peace. Then go get your nails done. It's been a while since I've done a little something fitness related for you, and I feel like this is a good time. After all, it's summer. And everyone is hoping for that beach bod to show up one morning.
I'd like to go ahead and give my continual reminder - Just because it worked for someone you know, does not mean it will work for you! I will always share my case in point to back this up. When the keto diet was hitting hard and fast, I had clients thinking about going that route. I'm not a nutritionist, nor a dietician, but I have common sense and a background in studying all of this. However, because I am me, I decided to put myself at risk for the sake of science. I went low carb. (Scary, I know.) Within four days I gained quite a bit of weight. I was sluggish. I couldn't get through a workout. I quit after a week. I went back to eating as I felt and lost the weight. I gained energy. Why? Why didn't it work? Should I have stuck with the diet for another four weeks? Maybe. But I wouldn't be able to workout if I did. I had to make the choice that was right for me. I grew up on sugar. I grew up on processed foods. I grew up going balls to the walls in fitness, but ate like a drunk/high college student studying for finals. I ate what I wanted, when I wanted. I didn't count calories. I drank more Mountain Dew than I can imagine. And I was fit enough. So now, as an adult, my body does better with sugars than it does fat. My body is ok with Auntie Little Debbie coming by and stocking the cabinets. That's me. I know myself. It's your job to get to know yourself as well. But here is a little piece of the puzzle that maybe you aren't looking at as well. Fat burn. I know I've posted about target zones for cardio, but what about strength? Did you get confused? How is strength related to fat burn? Science has shown us that bodies with more muscular tissue burn more fat. So why is it that when someone makes that crucial decision to get in better shape, they start with cardio? Is this you? The process usually starts with walking or going to a gym. It increases to biking/cycling classes/aerobics, the elliptical, treadmill, and rowing machines. And usually there is a loss. Weight or inches might drop from a person. And then they're stuck. So then they start eating "healthier" and dropping calories. Well, more weight and inches are lost. Then the wall gets hit again. Strength training is usually the third and final option. It should be the first. Strength training will help to burn calories at rest. Muscle will help to burn fat. Muscles will gain endurance to take you on the walks, bike rides, and runs. Strength training helps balance blood sugars. The key to success is in the strength training. I know many women don't want to hear that. They don't want to get "bulky". Fun fact, unless you're taking testosterone, you won't get bulky. And I know men get excited by the strength training, push those weights around. But there will be a balance. You need the strength training. You need cardiovascular work. You need flexibility training. All of these things work together. Let's get training! So as many of us know, Facebook has begun showing TikTok reels in clips. I enjoy scrolling through them. I particularly go for cake decorating, tumbling, home decor, and fitness clips. Well, don't forget about those, "America's Funniest Home Video Nut Shots" that come across every so often. But I digress.
Recently, I was watching a reel which showed an anchor team sitting at the big desk on camera for something I can only imagine is a news show, but clearly do not watch. On the list of anchors, there is one African American male on the right hand side. The two on the left side are white males. There are two more in between that I believe were a woman and another white male, but I didn't get a good look. The camera focused on just the first three back and forth. The male on the far left states that African American rappers are using the n-word here and there, but he as a white man cannot. When the camera panned to the African American gentleman he had his head in his hand as he massaged the bridge of his nose, clearly unhappy about the conversation. When the first person stops talking, the African American says, "So say it!" The response made to the African American coworker is, "I can't say that." It is repeated. "So say it. Go ahead. Say it." The second white guy joins in now, "You know we can't say that..." It almost felt like he was ready to say, "on air," and left off that bit. It was really upsetting for me to see that video. The words they chose were "I can't." There should not be a discussion of can't. The word they needed to use was WON'T. Think about what the difference in those words imply. I can't - There is something prohibiting me from saying this word. I won't - I respect you and your community too much to say that word. It is offensive and I would never think of doing that. I don't know what show that was. I don't know who they were. But I can honestly say that I have no respect for men that would choose the word "can't" over "won't." You could say I'm playing semantics, but I simply see the reality. They felt they couldn't say the word because someone would be upset, not they wouldn't say that word because it would upset. There is a huge difference. Color me, disgusted. I'm an odd onion of layers to peel back. In my deepest core, I've always been a hopeless romantic. I suppose being jaded and and years of hurt have led me to be more cautious, but that hope still comes alive. And through it all, many people look at me and think that I'm a pessimist. I don't say so. I say I'm a realist. I take things for what they are. But the hope I've had created a way for me to find the silver lining. I've noticed that when I show people the silver lining, they are very confused by me. They give me a pat on the back and condescendingly tell me how proud of me they are.
On-ion. Seeing a silver lining is easy for me. It's the hopeless romantic in me that believes something better is right around the corner. Recently I had a very difficult meeting. Truly difficult. What was supposed to be a professional meeting, turned into someone telling intimate details about their life that did not have anything to do with the meeting. Despite me trying to steer conversation in the right direction, I was brought back into one sided conversations of things unnecessary and inappropriate. I left the meeting frustrated, My brain was frazzled and I was left both speechless and ready to word vomit my frustration. So, what did I take away? A brilliant book idea. Don't worry it isn't about the meeting or the person. The concept began to form from all the thinking that I was forced to do. I could rant and rave. I could be frustrated. Or I can take a bad situation and make it good. We're only given one shot at life. Your choices determine your situation. Sure, we can be dealt some bad hands, but it's how we choose to play the cards that determine if we come out winners or loser. Go play the game. Live life. I promised a fluff piece, and here it is for your reading pleasure.
Almost every single morning, I take my puppy for a walk. Depending on the day we will go as little as a mile, or as much as three miles. Factors including weather, her behavior, my health, time limits, and such. Still, it is a nice way to start the day, by moving with a cute puppy through the neighborhood. We've had our Jersey girl for almost a year a now. She's 50 pounds of muscle. Lean, fast, and friendly as can be. She wants nothing more than to race around and say hello to as many people, dogs, cats, birds, lizards, or insects as possible. We can't let her make friends with everyone, though, so I keep her on a short leash. Literally. Jersey has four feet of freedom from my side. And sometimes that is harder than it looks. We often pass by other people, dogs, and cats. I don't mind walking past the dogs in fences lately. My pup has become more aware that she must not pull or tug to sniff the buddy on the other side of the vinyl. Quite often she simply walks by, even when she whines to her furry friends, "If Mama wasn't walking with me!" I usually try to tell her, "They're just jealous you get to walk around the neighborhood while their stuck in their yard." You know, because she totally understands what I'm saying. Recently, we were walking and passed multiple cats. Ugh, my hands and shoulders are not fans. Still, it made me think. There's a cat that is found outside all the time. People know who the cat belongs to. The owners claim him. They tell us he's allowed to venture into the unknown and that he finds his way back (with cat dementia no less). I can't help but think how careless that is. I mean, I believe animals can get by on their own. They have for thousands of years. Our domestication of them has hindered their abilities more than anything, but if left to their own, they can survive. But then, what's the point? We see the cats roaming the hood and think of their freedom. Does my dog get jealous that cats wander about without leash? Do they seek the same autonomy? Possibly. I think my dog's main concerns are water, food, and snuggles. But I'm sure she'd like a chance to wander alone. That's why she escapes from the house whenever she can and runs in a full out sprint through neighboring yards. And every time, I get upset with her. These animals are showing me a picture of God's love for us. There are people that are left in their yards and that is their only outside time. They don't experience what's in the world. I see this as a problem. Just like dogs need space to exercise and stretch their legs, Christians need to be in the world (not of it) in order to spread God's love and build the kingdom. But still, we cannot simply wander the neighborhoods like the cats. We claim we have a home that we go back to for food, but often the neighbors feed them or give them attention. We cannot look to the world to feed us spiritually, it will mess up the diet plan that will keep us healthy. I walk my dog through the neighborhood on a leash. I can't trust her, yet, to walk beside me without the leash. She'll chase anything that grabs her attention. But I hope one day to be able to have her well trained enough to walk with me and be satisfied with walking by my side. She knows where her food and water dishes are. She knows I'll show her love and affection. But she is still immature and wants to find out what the world has to offer her. I keep her on the leash so she doesn't get hit by a car, or get in a fight with another dog. God, too, allows us a leash, if you will. But he doesn't put it on us. We must. We must agree to harness ourselves and let him hold the leash so that when we get distracted by the things of the world he can gently pull us in the direction we need to go. Hopefully, eventually, we do not need the leash. Hopefully, we are willingly walking alongside him despite what is going on. Hopefully, we can be an example of how to walk and how to live for those that see us. My dog does not have a choice in whether or not she has a leash. Not yet, anyway. But we do. We can tether ourselves to a God who does not fail, is just, is on time, is faithful and steady, or we can wander from fence to fence looking for the next thing to occupy us. It is our choice. Well, life is a constant kick in the pants, isn't it?
I had a nice little fluff piece for this week's blog. A point to be made, but cute and fun with the point. Then Texas. I felt the urge to write about what happened in Texas, what has happened in too many schools. And I realized I can't. I still have my babies. My husband came home from work. What could I say? So I want to address not just this situation, but many situations that leave me saying, "I can't talk about it." My faithful readers are often reminded of my struggles through anxiety and depression, with a goal of informing you. I have heard from some of you with thankful hearts that my writing has helped you better understand, and that makes me happy. So, for those of you that don't find it helpful, too bad. Here comes another one. As the tragedy unfolded about the shooting in Texas, I found myself repelling, retreating, disengaging from the world around me. Seems a little harsh, right? This is a time I should be holding my children and teaching them to do better and be better. But I just can't. For many of us with anxiety/depression, we live in emotions. Many of which are real emotions, true to the situation, and some that are ours to believe despite evidence against us. We're always on our guard. We assume that something we said two weeks ago in passing is now going to ruin the lives of our children. It's unreasonable. We are aware. We can't control. Hopefully, though we work through it to see the truth. Regardless, there are a lot of emotions, thoughts, and energy flowing through us at all times. It's a lot. So when these big ticket items - things that register deeply on normal people scales - come into play, many of us seek solitude. We don't wish to talk about it. We're struggling to wrap our minds around it. We aren't running away from the problem. We're processing it. We're taking things in. We're gauging our reactions. We're empathizing with families. We are struggling. If we engage with others on the topic, there's a good chance we won't come back up. We'll drown in our sorrow. We will be ready to talk. We will be able to discuss the issues at hand surrounding it all. But it will take us a little longer. Don't cast us aside. Don't bring your judgment. We know that how we deal is not what you consider normal. We don't force you to do things according to OUR normal. Let us be. We'll come back. But at this point, you have probably noticed the pattern. We "shut down" during these crucial times. But maybe, just maybe, our anxiety is keeping us from saying something we might regret later. I've always been unpopular, so why try to change that now. What I'm about to write is going to make people mad. Hopefully, it will also make people think.
My son cannot seem to point his feet or his legs. It drives me crazy. A full year after me telling him that his feet are not pointed, he still cannot point them as they should be for the art of ballet. He thinks he is, but he isn't. So, he needs to work on strength and flexibility. Easy enough, right? Guess not. It's the same for much of health and fitness. There is a goal at hand. We must work for the goal. It will take dedication. After time, we hope we are closer to the goal than the starting point. But physical changes seem to be easier to tackle. It's the changes in us mentally and emotionally that we have a harder time with. Probably because they wrap more around our sense of self. (Disclaimer at this point- please read it all. I know some of you will be mad. I understand. But please, please read it all.) Lately the hot topic is what? That's right, abortion. I see this as a sticky situation. I know! I know! But I asked you to read it all!! For many people, the idea of abortion is a cut and dry. As someone who grew up in the church, my first reaction is simple. Abortion = bad. Killing of babies = bad. Killing of unborn life = bad. Simple. Regardless of the situation, I still hold on to this mindset. I don't think it's right to take that life. But! Ah, the existential but. I've never been placed in a situation where abortion was on the table for me and my body. I chose my children. I still do. And I would again. And if I were to become pregnant again (insert boisterous HA!) I would keep that child. But I am a 37 year old woman who knows herself. I know my God. I know my family. I know the blessing that can come from this situation. I have never been raped, thank the Good Lord. I have never had to deal with that mental and emotional waterfall of pain. I cannot begin to imagine what it would be like to live with that pain for the rest of my life. And if impregnated by the rapist? Wow. From the outside, I say keep that child. It's a miracle. That baby, your story, it can all be for the glory of God. It can all be used for good. Don't let this happen! I'm still on the outside. I don't believe that abortion should be used as a "I was irresponsible" fix. It shouldn't be a "the condom broke and now I'm not ready" solution. If two people enter the ring together, they know the potential outcome of the dance. Taking one life because you were not prepared is not okay. When it comes to children that will have a lower quality of life, I still say, keep the baby! Again, I have not experienced this pain, but I have watched. I have watched my friends keep their baby until birth. I have seen life taken in mere days. I have seen poor quality of physical life, but rich in spiritual! I have seen friends and teammates live hard lives with difficulties I cannot imagine. They thrive! They press on. They are remarkable. I thank God for their push in this unfair life. The biggest problem I see is not keep the baby (whether to raise or give for adoption) but whether the mother to be is supported properly. We forget that this is not a battle of flesh and blood, but of the spirit. Those rooted in Christ will rarely choose abortion. When I see people stating their case for abortion, what I see is a call for help. I see people that made choices because they don't have God. I see people that don't have physical help - parents, families, partners - that will be with them through the upbringing of a child. I see people that don't have mental support - families, counselors - that help them to understand who they are. And again, I see people without spiritual support - church, families, the Holy Spirit - that can lead them in the quiet strength they need. When someone is against abortion, I understand why. When someone is for abortion, I sometimes understand why. For some people, pregnancy and childbearing is more than they can handle. I can try to put myself in the shoes of a 14 year old girl that was raped by a family member, but the Lord has blessed me and kept me from that tragedy. I can give my thoughts and opinions, but I have not experienced that pain. If we have illegal abortions, we must also have stricter penalties for sexual assault, abuse, rape. We must also have better health care - physically and mentally. And we must be actively portraying the LOVE OF CHRIST and not the judgment of pharisees. Lately I've been thinking about some experiences I had in high school. Experiences, and people, that tried to break me. And one popped to my brain while I was working out and when I revisited this situation, I started to see something that was a bit odd to me.
Here's what happened: One morning I was sitting in English when the vice principal came to the room. He called me out and we started walking to his office. He told me he had called my mom and she was on her way. Once we were all sitting around his desk, he played some messages left on his answering machine the night before. A female voice claimed to be me. The girl was threatening suicide. She made multiple calls and left at least three messages saying that she was starting the tub, she was going to cut her wrists, and he needed to call to stop it. The answering machine happily told us the times of the phone calls. "Do you have anything you want to say about this?" "Last night, during the time of those phone calls I was in Abington playing a basketball game." "Oh. That's right." "No offense, but if I was planning to kill myself and was expecting someone to stop me, I wouldn't call the vice principal, and especially at night when he wouldn't be in his office. Seems a little odd." "Good point. Do you know who would do this?" "Yup. Megan Forde." "Why?" "How should I know? It's kind of a weird thing to do to try to get me in trouble. But I bet someone can identify the voice." I was released from the office. That was it. No more was ever spoken of it - outside of me telling friends and whatnot. Why did this come to mind? I'm actually pissed off by his reaction/response to the threat of suicide. He thought the best thing to do was to punish me for the phone calls. Did it not cross his mind that if it really were me, that maybe I did need help? His concern was not for my well being or if I was suicidal (fun fact, I was). His concern was that I was prank calling the school. There's a lot to unpack there, but when I made this realization, I got angry. One thing I have noticed is that people don't always know how to respond to bad situations. Especially people that care about the hurting person. There's this idea that adults are supposed to protect children (which I stand with) and when they don't/can't/missed something, there's a lot of anger and frustration. Unfortunately, in their struggle to figure it all out, they usually release that frustration on the child accidentally. It may come as disbelief, justification, or just frustration. But it leaves an impression that the child is not validated. There is where the trauma grows. What would have happened if the vice principal didn't take me out of class in anger? What if he checked on me immediately and asked me if I was okay? What if he brought the counselor with to talk to me? What if? It's too late now for me to change the narrative. But it's not too late for me to change the cycle. My family has recently finished up the dance competition season for our team. And boy did I struggle this year. Last year we found ourselves racing back and forth to the dressing room to change and go on stage within minutes due to covid changes. This year, things ran like they used to, which means more time to sit and watch dances. That's the hardest part.
We live in a society that is finally taking a stand against the outrageous treatment of women and girls. We are bringing to light the pedophilia issues in this country and others. We are outraged by the sexualization of children. And then we go to dance competitions. Sometimes I felt like the competitions were simply there to help groom children for a future of debauchery. I know that sounds harsh, but if you had only seen. Little girls - under the age of 8 - are wearing skimpy glittery outfits. They pop on stage and shake their rump. Moms cheer. "Get it girl!" and "Yes, ma'am!" echo through the audience. Dads call out, "Let's go!" They do some tricks. Shake some more. Give duck-faced pouty lips to the judges and big over-the-top smiles. Then they walk off the stage like they own it. Children. Tiny little undeveloped babies shake their booties and chest for a line of judges and cat-calling parents. Then those same routines win. They win for the stage presence, and they executed the tricks. And just like that we have reinforced that small outfits, high energy, and sexuality are winners. And I get sick. You cannot blame the children. They're children. They (unless they're like mine) do not know any better. They are following orders and doing what is designed for them. I blame the parents for allowing it, and encouraging it. I blame the choreographers for allowing children to do those things. I blame studios for not holding choreographers accountable. I blame the competitions for allowing the "maturity" level to rise. Somewhere along the way, parents forgot to protect their children. To stand up for innocence. They have chosen to win at all cost. What will it cost? What will become of these girls? These girls are taught to move in sexual ways while wearing little clothing. They get cheers for it. They are judged on it. They are being told that sex sells. They don't even know it. They have no idea. It's harmless for them. They go on stage, shake a bit, and walk off. And everyone says how much they love it. The worst part is that it will continue. Parents won't say no if the studio says it will win. Judges won't take off points if the routine is done well. It will never end. But I wish it would. It's too late for my children, but I pray that an end will come. I pray that innocence will be restored. |
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May 2023
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