Haikuesday 04.26.16

April 26, 2016 Leave a comment

The air was heavy,

and so were the words spoken,

but then we felt light.

I’m living it.

April 23, 2016 Leave a comment

I think my life started at 28 years old. That was when things started to change. That’s when I started to see what was possible. It’s not that I didn’t have good experiences before I was 28. I got to travel to other countries. I lived in different states. I got to go away to the college of my choice and study exactly what I wanted. I had good friends. It was nice. However, some things seemed fuzzy. Like my entire future. I didn’t have a sense of what I wanted for myself. I knew I didn’t want to be a nomad. Adventure grew less important. I still wanted challenge and risk, but with that I wanted purpose and stability. I wanted my brain to work hard and my bank account to reflect what my brain could do.

When I was 28, I was not happy. I was not even content. I was uncomfortable and antsy. I felt like a wolf with nothing to hunt. I had all this skill, all this potential, all this drive, but nothing to do with it. Then I made the decision to pursue my Master’s degree in social work. Then I found judo again. Then I ended my seven year relationship.

Those three acts made me feel new. All were terrifying and difficult and brought a sense of uncertainty, but they were necessary. At 28, I had the unshakeable feeling that this leg of my journey had to be done with me alone, ready to take my turn on the high dive. I wanted to be self-propelled.

Although I ended that relationship, I was never alone. I don’t think you can live a good life alone. I know that I need my family. I need my friends for fun, comfort, and sanity. I need the people in my life to inspire and motivate me. I like having my local heroes.

I’m 34 now. I’ll be 35 in November. I have some feelings about 35 which I didn’t expect to have, but I like where I’m at. The past six years have been rocket-fueled. I’ve had a series of intense, non-stop changes since July of 2014. With every good thing that’s happened, every new opportunity, every new personal connection, there has been something equally stressful and discouraging to keep me in check. I feel uncomfortable sometimes and I still get antsy, but I have focus now. No blurry vision about the future. No drifting. I know what I want to do. I know who I want by my side. This isn’t the life that happened to me. It’s the life that I chose. I’m glad I’m living it.

Haikuesday 04.19.16

April 19, 2016 Leave a comment

There is emptiness,

but you can replenish it

with a commitment.

Categories: poetry, Uncategorized Tags: , ,

Haikuesday 04.12.16

April 12, 2016 Leave a comment

I know I’m changing.

I can tell it’s happening,

and I’m excited.

 

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Haiku for a Sunday.

It is small gestures

during fragile moments

that show we are loved.

Haikuesday 03.29.16

March 29, 2016 Leave a comment

The muscles grow tense

and the breath starts to quicken

right before the throw.

 

Up and down.

March 26, 2016 Leave a comment

It only took about 24 seconds for me to feel unstoppable. Just 24 seconds of me in the loud, grimy gym near my house on a Monday morning for me to see what a ferocious little monster I can be. A little encouragement, a lot of focus. That was it.

Leading up to those 24 seconds, I was not feeling invincible. I was feeling empty. My recent promotion at work was freaking me out. Each day in my new role, I was seized around the throat by that feeling that I was in way over my head. I was up all night reviewing all the ways I thought I screwed up and possible new ways for me to screw up in the future. I questioned my judgement. I questioned my assertiveness. I cried. I shut down. I ate three bowls of Coco Puffs in a row.

I told myself that I was going to be OK. I told myself I was just going to take this opportunity to learn and grown. I’m not going to grind away my sanity and well-being. “Be gentle to yourself,” is what I kept repeating in my head. I made sure I didn’t skip morning work outs and made it to judo practice. My non-work time was filled with nice things and nice people. I was going to be OK. I was going to do this. No drowning.

At the end of last week, I told myself I was relaxed and in control. That was a fib though. Deep down, I was still freaking out. Monday came, and I was so relieved that a few months ago, I scheduled the day off. My boyfriend, Frank, was with me and we had plans to go deadlift. I am novice level at deadlifting. I started lifting once a week in January and made my way up slowly from 115# to 145#. Frank trains in jiu jitsu and also took a period where he focused on power lifting. He’s smart and wants to do things to right way, not the bro way, so he’s a good gym buddy and training partner.

Frank was insistent that I could deadlift way more than 145#. I did not believe him. He said I could pull 200#. I did not believe him. I just started. I’m not that diesel. We put 135# on the bar and Frank studied me doing five reps. He told me, “I’m going to fix, like, two things and your deadlifts are going to go up 100# pounds today.” I raised an eyebrow. He showed me the adjustments. Then we kept adding weight gradually. We got up to 175#. I was in happy disbelief. How about 190#? Sure, why not. Then Frank asked, “Think you could try 200?” Sure. I got my breathing together. I gripped up. I pulled. I got the bar maybe and inch or two off the ground and then put it back down. I got scared. “It’s too heavy. It’s a lot of weight,” I said with furrowed brow. “Yeah, it is a lot of wait,” Frank acknowledged, empathetically.  I paused. I breathed. I said goodbye to my fear. I could do it. “I want to try again. I think I can do it.” I got my mind ready. I approached the bar again. Frank stood a few feet away, coaching and cheering me through. I did it. I pulled 200#.

I know 200# is not that amazing for serious powerlifters, but it’s amazing to me. I really didn’t think I could do it. At least not yet. I didn’t let myself see that I had that in me. But I do. It’s awesome.

When I got to work on Tuesday,  I was amped. I didn’t care about any crises, any drama, any tension. None of that scared me. I just deadlifted 200#. I know it sounds dumb, but that’s how I felt. Anything that came up, I was just, like, so what? This hard, but it’s not that hard. It all can get done. I felt calm even when a situation came up where I didn’t know the immediate solution. I was sure of myself. I was excited. I mean, I can pull 200#.

Twenty four seconds was all it took.

 

 

 

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