Honest, hope is a verb, ramblings, relationships

Will you save the baby?

It’s been a minute.

Well, at least it feels like it has. I feel like my life just went into overdrive and there is ABSOLUTELY nothing I can do to stop it. My brain feels too exhausted for words and my Sundays have been overtaken with sleep and the inability to make it out of my house.
Today, while at work, I made the decision that I was going to go home and not sit and move my body down to one of my current favorite writing spots and sip champagne and write.
And then it started raining and my phone wasn’t charged and I had leftover pad thai in the fridge.
But, I did it.
I put my rain boots back on and plugged in my headphones and put my computer in my bag and walked out the door.
So, now I’m sitting here with probably too much champagne for a Monday. The same amount of champagne honestly as there are thoughts and topic sentences and beginnings in my head. I have two pieces I need to work on and no words for them and…

Instead, I’m just rambling.

About three weeks ago on the first of January (sidenote: how the HELL was New Years Day ONLY three weeks ago? Why is January always five years long), I spent some time pondering what might my word of the year be. Now, words of the year aren’t a resolution. They aren’t a goal or an end or honestly even a theme.

To me, when a word comes into my brain that I deem my word of the year I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that its a word that needs to sink in. And usually, it isn’t easy.

A couple of years ago my word was rest. Last year, release. Both not easy for me. Both I fought against.
I’ve had other words. I’ve had themes. I’ve had verses.

But each year I’ve metaphorically labeled the beginning of the year with a word I’ve watched it morph and change and provide dissonance and not a lot of resolution.
(which is ok)
The dissonance though is why the word that popped into my brain and moved from my head all the way to my toes scares the hell out of me.

Because, if you know me, you know this isn’t a word I use.

My word for 2020: Worthy.
(insert vomit emoji here)

In the 20 days of 2020 I’ve already grappled with my worthiness more than I’d like to admit. I’ve been communicated that I’m not enough. That I’m too much. I’ve been communicated to that I’m the single friend. That my weight causes me to be less than. That what I do isn’t good enough or that I need to do more.

And I’ve kept that damn word on my letterboard above my bed.

We live in a world where, whether we like it or not, we strive to be worthy.
Worthy of a job. Of a relationship. Of a child. Of a role. Of a pay increase. Of a phone call. Of a hug.
Worthy of each other.
Worthy to occupy the space we are in.
It might not be the word you think of, but it’s all the same.

I remember about 10+ years ago when I was struggling with depression. When each day was a battle and I had stopped sleeping at night. When I dreaded any human interaction.
When my life didn’t feel WORTH living.
When I didn’t feel as if anything I could bring to the table was of value.
That was it. I didn’t feel like I could do anything right, or be right, or contribute to society so what was even the point of breathing?
But, I chose to survive and move and jump.
(and cry a lot of tears).

Something deep down inside, something that was just kindling then, reminded me I had something inside that made me want to breathe another breath.
Something inside reminded me that I was a badass- though at that point in my life I would have probably used the word worthy.

So, what do I think worthy is going to do for me this year?

I think that it’s going to remind me to choose myself even when no one else does.
I think it’s going to remind me to not feel guilty for choosing myself.
I think being worthy is going to remind me that I need to save my own damn life.

Worthy is going to remind me that I don’t need to fit into a box.
Hell, worthy reminds me I need to crush the boxes.

Now, this all sounds well and good.
I can shout this out. I can preach it. I can shake my fist to the sky.
BUT,
Worthy is going to test me.

It’s going to shake its fist back.
Worthy is inevitably going to cause me to cry.
Probably sob or have a panic attack.

Because the road to worthy isn’t easy.

The road to worthy is like the movie The Labyrinth. It’s speckled with twists and turns and things and people and creatures trying to move you off course. There’s the little wormy things trying to invite in you in for tea so you forget that you are trying to save your baby brother and in all reality save yourself.

And before you dismiss this whole blog as something with underlying Christian themes: I want you to remember worthy isn’t about who or what you believe in.

It can be influenced by, peppered with and colored by faith of any kind- but it isn’t the whole story.
And before you dismiss worthiness as selfish, need I remind you of all the time the heroine in Labyrinth wasted getting off track. Worth is staying on track. Because getting to the damn goblin king quicker saves the baby and saves yourself.

This season terrifies me a little. Just like David Bowie terrified in the Labyrinth.
I was freaked out and given the heebies jeebies by the weird 80s vibes of the Labyrinth- but I had to keep watching.
I’m a little weirded out by the creatures I might find along the way. The words, thoughts, and emotions that have and will distracted me and led me off my path because they did and still do feel right.
This next year freaks me out because, in all reality, this momentary lapse of crazy in referencing the Labyrinth has just cemented the fact that this year is about movement.
You can’t get through a maze if you don’t keep fucking going.

So, if you have made it through my ramble and my epic 80s movie references; I have some homework for you.
1. Make a list of why you are worthy. Or enough. Or a badass.
2. Send it to me. (If you aren’t friends with me in real life you can message me on Instagram @megmagnolia)
2a. If you are friends with me in real life and you don’t know why you are worthy or enough or a badass text me and ask.
3. Watch the Labyrinth. Seriously. It’s so weird and great.

And please, please, please always remember that it’s your choice if you save the baby from the Goblin King or if you get lost along the way.
And remember that even if you get lost for a moment, you can still find your way again.

Just keep fucking going.

Honest, hope is a verb, I choose champagne, relationships, Uncategorized

This is not the end.

All I want in the world right now is to walk away from my computer. I want to chug down the rest of this coffee and pack up and walk out of the coffee shop.
Because if I had decided to sit here and go through all the beautiful things that happened this year, it would be different. When I sit, even for a moment, I am inundated with goodness.

Amidst all the stress, confusion and anxiety there was so much beauty. I was welcomed into a wacky theater family, I officiated two weddings- one being the wedding of two humans I treasure more than I can imagine. I went to camp again and celebrated my 34th birthday in California. I moved into a new house, I saw my friends in way too many shows, I went to Leavenworth twice and found small semblances of peace there. I got to go to my cousin’s wedding in Kansas and see some Reeve family. I got many, many chances to celebrate people I adore.

There were so many twinkly lights of joy in this year.

10 years ago in 2009 I walked into what was then my hardest, most dismal season of depression. I lost friends, lost bits of myself that I don’t think have ever returned and walked very differently into the decade than I thought I would.

I walked into this decade having seen things and felt things I didn’t realize I was capable of feeling.

And likewise- I’m walking into this next decade in the same way. A little more weathered, beaten and with more open eyes than I had before.

I’ve lived in Bellingham for a majority of the 2010s since I spent a year and half (basically) overseas, I’ve taught in a classroom 8ish/10 of the decade. I’ve gotten 9/10 tattoos in this decade. I’ve set foot in 14 countries.

I’ve come to terms with certain aspects of my life that I’m choosing to be ok with it or else I’d go crazy.

2019 reminded me that without a shadow of the doubt ( and please don’t reprimand me for the following sentence): I’m the single friend. The one you can count on to be there. The strong independent woman who can just do the damn thing. (PS Amanda- more on this later).

2019 reminded me that I will show up. Even when it is the hardest thing for me to do- I’ll do it.

2019 reminded me that sometimes people aren’t going to choose me- and that’s ok.

It reminded me that I still, even when I don’t want to, hear the voice of God.

2019 reminded me that I don’t always have to agree with you.

2019 reminded me that it’s ok that I changed.

2019 reminded me beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am 100% capable of the ability to keep fucking going and that , that ability isn’t a weakness but it is strength.

I’m looking forward now. Looking forward with the ability to move forward.

I had this picture fill my brain in church today. You know the scene in the “The Prince of Egypt” when Moses parts the Red Sea and they all start walking through it. And as they move deeper down they start to see all of the creatures in the water through this beautiful wall of water?
I was walking through the ocean, looking at the creatures, with this slight foreboding that the walls were going to crash down.
I think because I’ve lived this whole decade out of that fear, that any second the walls would come crashing down and I would drown in the thing that I saw as so beautiful.
But, today watching that picture play out in my head and seeing the water behind me urging me on, all I felt was peace. Like it was ok to move forward and soak in the beauty and the calm of the ocean around me.
And I’m going to be incredibly real with you: I don’t know if I trust it still.
Sitting here writing those words, feeling the hope that comes off of them, I am unsure if I can grab them.
But, I’m going to try.

Dear 2019,
I think if I could thank you for anything it’s that you tucked me in tightly with my people, you brought me moments and smiles and the ability to celebrate them and I thank you for that. I thank you for all the lessons and the tears, and the moments where I had to pause myself long enough so I could breath normally again.
I thank you for the good and not so good choices for my body and the laughter and stories each of those brought.
I thank you for my anger because it reminded me I could still feel it.
And I thank you, lastly for being an end of a season I didn’t even know I was in.
With love,
Meg

Honest, ramblings

Just fix your leggings

I was putting on my leggings this morning and I thought of my tiny humans. Every weekday at about 11AM you can normally find me helping two year olds go potty and put on pull-ups and put their pants back on.

And let me tell you, hell hath no fury like a tiny human whose pants are too tight, bunched or stuck on their foot.

I rarely can fix the problem before the whines and squeaks begin.

My tiny humans quickly tell me when they aren’t happy, uncomfortable or any form of not feeling perfectly at peace in their own skin. Their blankets aren’t right, they have the wrong cup, their food is touching. They let me know when they are hungry or tired.

They refuse to live like that. Ever.

Not having it.

At some point, obviously, that changes.

At some point we begin to just be ok with things that cause us discomfort, or pain, or take our peace of mind away. At some point we are entrenched in the knowledge that “life isn’t fair” and “you just have to live with it”.

At some point we just live with things being off or bunched or too tight.

Why?

Why do we, as human beings, decide that we aren’t worth living our life to the fullest, we decide we aren’t worth rest, or lovely things.

We decide that someone else’s happiness is more important then ours.

Now, I am not saying that we have to be happy all the time, or comfortable, or that we have to satisfy every need and desire we have right at the exact moment. 

I am saying, is that living at a two for the sake of living at a two is dumb.

I’ve been pondering this idea lately. The idea that we as humans choose to suffer for the sake of suffering.

I feel like christians have cornered this market. Suffering for the sake of suffering. I have done it, I have been in a place of not accepting something, or not choosing something because I thought I wasn’t supposed too.

But, what I have learn in my life thus far, is that are already times when life will feel crappy, hard and all the things without me choosing it. We don’t need to create more situations like that.

I learn from my tiny humans a lot. And today, when putting on my leggings, I was reminded that I don’t need to choose to be uncomfortable, I don’t need to live in my unhappiness.

I don’t need to make life hard for the sake of it being hard.

Now, I don’t need to throw a tantrum when my leggings catch on my foot, or when I feel lonely, or if something doesn’t go my way.

But, if I have the ability to fix it- why shouldn’t I?

There are a lot of big world things we are unable to fix. There are a lot of circumstances that we aren’t meant to change . We can’t always leave the job, or move out of the city, or magically be in a relationship.

But, we can fix our leggings or go on a run, we can hang out with friends or we can light a candle and take a deep breath.

We can find the things we need to find balance and joy and peace.

We are allowed to choose goodness.

We don’t need to scream about it like my tiny humans but we can take deep breath and figure it out.

ramblings, Spain g42

all I have is a topic sentence

I’ve started at least 3 blogs in the last five minutes trying to figure out what to write about.

There are multiple things I could write about right now. I have a myriad of thoughts flying through my brain.

But most of them are all topic sentences:

(Re)Learning to use my voice.

(Re)Learning to step out in faith.

Learning to burst beyond that which makes me uncomfortable.

Learning to leave insecurity at the door.

Learning not to second guess myself or my purpose.

It’s all a beginning. Or more so a continuation.

7 months ago I got off of a plane into a familiar place that had turned unknown.

A week ago I go on a plane to an unknown place that is full of familiar.

photo 3((some of my NSquad girls who I have the joy & privilege of doing life with here in Spain))

And the lessons aren’t the same. But the lessons here have built upon the lessons from there.

So now I sit here with all of these topic sentences at the beginning of a new season. 5 for now; probably more to come. And here’s the thing:

That’s ok.

It’s like God is handing me this notebook with a topic at the top of each page and saying

“it’s ok. You don’t have to figure all this out tonight. Or even tomorrow. I’m just saying it’s time.”

And it is time.

photo 2((july interns on a scavenger hunt through Mijas))

There are a couple things that I’ve let lurk in my closet far too long that I am ready to let out and then beat them down with a broom. They have been taunting me and poking their heads out for too long.

And God is reminding me daily that it’s fine. And it’s time.

I tore so many chains aside last year; and I’ve come to realize that I have some more. They’re rusted over because they’ve been there for so long that I’ve forgotten about them.

It took the demolishing of the chains on top of them to realize that they were there.

So that’s where I am. I’m sitting here in lovely Spain, having just finished my first week of class with a post it note of topic sentences; of things God is going to walk with me through.

And it’s going to be good. And hard. And beautiful.

I’m here. I’m ready to live through these lessons that I may come back someday and be able to tell you about another chain that has fallen off.

I am here.

photo 4

And here I go.

 (click here if you would like to see ways in which you can journey with me