The Gal I Am

I feel the need to tell y’all something.

Celebrate your individuality. Not only today, but every day. There must be something in the water…or something. You know, be you. Love what you love. Not to worry about what other people think because it has no bearing on you. No hold. What other people think has more to do about them than about you.

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So, in that spirit.

I am the kind of gal that gets surprised by the new noises that can be heard on the north wind after the first cold front of the year. That happened this morning.

I am a complete album kind of gal. To me, whole albums are a complete work and I have more complete albums than single songs in my music library. How many times can I say complete? This also means I am a music buyer and not a streamer.

I am a go to the grocery store hungry and buy all the things I do not need kind of gal. This turns into me being surprised at the check out every time.

I am the kind of gal that likes to drive on the line rather than between them. There may be some kind of deeper life metaphor in there. Apples don’t fall far.

I am a turn the gospel music on in traffic so I do not get Traffic Tourette’s and yell at people kind of gal. I really helps.

I am an early to bed, early to rise kind of gal with a full night’s rest in between. You know how I am about my sunrises and sunsets. Besides, they just said on the news that sleep deprivation leads to Alzheimer’s. Must be true, right?

I am a sit around the fire pit kind of gal and always have been. I can not wait for the first fire of the year.

I am the kind of gal that gets only mildly surprised and greatly amused when I discover I am many times over a product of where I come from. Fascinating, right?

I am a cross wall gal. As in I have a wall of crosses in my house. So does my oldest sister, A.

I am a close the cabinets and drawers all the way kind of gal.

I am the kind of gal that wears more than once necklace at a time because I can not just pick one.

I am a set the table for dinner gal. I actually keep my dining room table set, complete with cloth napkins and napkin rings all times, but I eat on my couch 99% of the time. I just have a thing for table settings. And lots and lots of candles.

I am a color gal. Lots of color. My closet looks like a rainbow. ‘Winter’ colors are not really a thing for me.

I am a flavored coffee gal. Get of your high horse, coffee people. Pecan coffee is good, I do not care what you say.

I am the type of gal that smiles when I come home and there are dog toys scattered all over the house behind my dog greeting me at the door with her wagging tail.

I am a planning and dreaming gal. I am not spontaneous as a general rule, not that I can not be, I just prefer to plan…the whole day. Every day. But I am also capable of adjusting. I also day dream a lot. Little dreams and big dreams. Close ones and far off ones.

I am an ask all the questions kind of gal. I love my details. I was told once that I should be a lawyer because I like details. I found this more than mildly amusing.

I am a gal that prefers animals to most people. Although, I think you already know that.

I am a gal that does not mind getting dirty and using her hands.

I am an independent gal. A do not tell me what to do kind of gal. I have been told that this intimidates people. What people? Who are these people? I also find this amusing. I do not think of myself as intimidating. Maybe I am. Strong, sure, but like I said, I am a product of where I come from. Most of the people in my life are this way, related or not.

I am a helping gal. I like to help people. To be of service.

I am a gal that has an easy to read face. There is no hiding my thoughts if you can see my face. I am no poker player, that is for sure. I also have a tendency to roll my eyes. Very loudly. And normally I do not even know I do it. I had a teacher in high school call me out for this one time. It made me laugh.

I am a homebody type gal and I need my alone time sometimes.

I am a gal that knows she is a child of God and was made this way for a reason. Even if it is hard sometimes.

What kind of person are you? Let us celebrate it! Thank you for being you and being here!

Walk in love, dear readers!

The Path Of Least Resistance

The sun is fierce this morning, y’all. It feels like it is going to be a hot one. But. I am not here to talk about the weather. Even if it might be easier to do.

My creative juices have not been flowing forth as of late if you have not been able to tell. In a funk, if you will. Again. Or still. It is what it is, but I do not have to like it.

It is also scary. Being vulnerable. This whole blog thing. Making it public…what was I thinking!? Woof.

bBTn_h

Someone once said I was brave for starting this blog and sharing my story. I do not feel very brave lately.

I meant to post this last night, but then I got self conscious about it and conveniently ran out of time. What about the other days since I last posted? Shh. I do not know.

I am just going to say it. Part of this funk leaves me feeling alone. There, I said it. It is true. There is more to it than that, like vocation, desires, future, faithfully waiting that all plays its roll in the bigger picture of the feeling. Blah, blah, blah.

But here is the thing.

There are times when I think it might be easier to not be me. Did a bomb just go off? Very brief, short times, but still very present. Easier to change what might be different about me and be like ‘everyone else.’ Be more accepted. Whatever all that means.

I might fit in more. Who cares? Did I ever care about that? I am not sure I really do.

Have more friends. Do I need more friends? I have never been one to have a huge group. Just my close, small group.

Maybe not be single? Eh. I would rather not be in a relationship than be in one where I could not be myself.

That I wouldn’t feel lost in this way. Is lost a strong word for this? I am not sure. No stronger than alone, I guess. No one else seems to be going through this. They are all out living their lives. Aren’t they? Is that not what the book of face and insta prove? Ha! I do not believe any of that for a second.

Not stuck in my head of circular thoughts, unable to still?

I have no way of knowing any of that, but I do not believe it would be easier. Indeed it would be harder. I tried to be someone I wasn’t once. It was terrible. It was in middle school. It sounds silly and trivial, I know, but it is true.

I had a very clear feeling that I was not like everyone else. I was too different. I was outside of the box. I felt like a round peg in a square hole. I liked different things, like going to the farm to ride. I did not care to break rules or do things we were not supposed to do. I was quiet. I related more to older people than kids my own age. I did not care to wear makeup or do my hair or wear nice clothes, much to my mother’s chagrin. I felt lost and I did not know why.

I told myself I was going to change. Be more square. Not talk about horses as much. Talk more. Make more friends. Look like someone I wasn’t. I do not know how long this lasted, but I do not think very long. I felt more lost than ever before. Like a stranger in my own skin. I suppose I made more ‘friends,’ but there were not real. I went back to being me because that was the only thing that felt right. It was easy and not hard.

I have been rather. Um. Restless as of late. Desiring a change and not knowing much more than that. Feeling an outside need for change, greater than my own desire. A greater and grander plan. I can’t see the path yet. I guess that is what seasons of waiting are to feel like. I do not know what it looks like or feels like. I am doing my best to seek Him and be faithful in my waiting. To grow and learn what He needs me to. To see and feel Him seeking me. To pray. Keeping knocking.


“Believe me, the choice that does not involve Him always ends up in a bad and downright disappointing place. It ends up in failure because it’s not the path we are meant to be on. It’s not the truth. Seek Him and you will find the truth.”
~Cory Morrow

Desiring a change in life, or rather, feeling the imminent change (and not knowing what it is) is different than changing who you are. Not being you. AHAmoment.

You were made a certain way for a reason. Divinely and uniquely made. Tailor-made. For a purpose. He has a plan and a path for that plan. The road and the gate are narrow, yet easy to follow when you keep your focus on Him. We like to make things complicated and difficult. Instead, keep it simple. His path is the path of least resistance.

Anyone still there??? Does any of this make sense? No?

Be yourself. Do not change what makes you, you.

Walk in love, dear readers.

Crisis?

I have never understood the whole quarter life or mid life crisis thing. Always was an odd concept to me. A conundrum. I jokingly throw around the term at times. I typically think of age as just a number. A number that many people use as an excuse or something to dread. Or view as a ticking time bomb or one of those daily flip calendars with a finite number of pages. The truth is, you are the age you feel you are. I have never really felt my age, even when I was little. Dare I say that I typically think of myself as an old soul. I read somewhere that one should never admit to that if you ever want to get married. Well, I just did. I suppose I am doomed now.

 


“Yeah there are different roads to happiness
I took a different path I guess
Came out on the others side just fine
The losing side of twenty five”


Turning twenty five was no big deal for me like everyone makes it out to be. Well, on second thought, maybe it was. I was either twenty four or five when I died my hair on a whim. Making the decision as I walked in the door of the salon. Pretty out of character for this planner. It was supposed to be redish and my parents freaked out like I had gone to the dark side and said it was purple. It wasn’t purple, at least not after it faded.

Twenty six was a big one. When I turned twenty six I felt like I was kicked on my bum out of the nest, falling on a large stick puncturing my wallet as I had to get my own health insurance policy. A puncture that just keeps getting bigger. Like some terrible kind of graduation gift that just keeps on giving. I called that a quarter life crisis to be funny, but honestly, I still do not know why it felt like such a big deal. Everyone has to do it. The hair dying was probably closer to a crisis, depending on who you ask. Some people may even call this blog, created almost a year ago, a quarter life crisis.

 


“My regrets are far and few between
and I can’t say that they’ve cost me a thing.
Except some money and a little bit of love,
But I’ll give that up.

If I can say that I am still my own
Without the rules that they forced upon.
At least since they day that I was had
because I can’t go back.”


At twenty eight, I sometimes feel like I am back where I was at twenty three, fresh out of undergrad, wondering why on earth I worked to graduate on time and give up my ability to ride every day. Still with an urge to dye my hair and blame it on a quarter life crisis just because. Just because I feel antsy. Questioning my life decisions and wondering. What is next? What am I supposed to be learning here?

I don’t think a season of life in transition, with God pushing me into rest, prayer, and waiting, can be considered a quarter life crisis. That is what I think most people do.

Here is the thing though. Everyone is in their own boat on the same sea. It is all a part of the journey. AHAmoment. The path. Individual and unique, just like you. The end destination is the same for everyone on different roads with different challenges. Might as well enjoy the ride! Look back at the end and marvel at what was experienced and accomplished instead of regrets or what went wrong. There will be many more seasons of transition to prepare you for what is next, often feeling like the waves going up and down the beach. One minute you think you are up and then the next you are back. The key is to stay the course. Just like working with a horse. One bad ride does not doom the next. Give them time to learn and figure it out. One mistake does not define a life. Mistakes do not exist if we learn from them. Be patient. Pray. Learn and grow. It is hard, yes, but in due time, His time, you will know what the next step is and when to take it. The next season will begin.

 


“When you are at war with yourself, you are bound to lose.”


So, no. No crisis. Never was and never will be. I am over here, happily in transition. Faithfully waiting. My current season of rest. Still. It does not come easy for me, but with His help, it will get easier. I will be prepared.

I’m not going to dye my hair, don’t worry. At least I don’t think so.

How I get to all of that from listening to one song is a wonder to me. Hello? Did I lose you? Anyone still there?

The good news is, the strangles scare was just that, a scare. I will still check each horse just in case while I am out tending to my Lito man. Speaking of Lito. He still seems to be recovering well and is enjoying his short workouts. Keeping sound with no added heat or swelling. Barring any schedule changes, we should be ready for his vet check by Wednesday or Thursday next week. Fingers crossed, dear readers.

Walk in love!