Itchy

Meditation is still going quite well. I love being in the prescence of God, feeling the closeness, the intimacy, of being loved by such a loving Heavenly Father. I've taken to calling Him Abba in my prayers, or "daddy." I see this as a good thing. I could never bring myself to call Him something so pesonal before.

Last night, two friends and I went to a secret place to spend time together and talk. We talked of many things, and I feel I know them both so much better.. maybe better than I know most people in Houston. I started talking about what God is showing me in my life, and I said this. "I feel like my whole life I've been walking to this great theater, and the performance will be my own life. I feel like I'm now sitting in the audience, and the curtain is about to go up." This is all a very poetic way of saying, I feel something big is about to happen in my life. Good or bad, I know that the next few years will be the catalyst for the rest of my days. I'm anxious to see what it is. Anxious, as in.... anxiety. I have the worst cabin fever. I feel like I need to move, but God is telling me I need to stay. I feel so confined, and it's extremly uncomfortable.

In Wicked, when Elphaba is speaking to Galinda, in the preamble to Defying Gravity, she says something that rings true with me.

Something has changed within me, something is not the same. I'm tired of playing by the rules of someone else's game. Too late for second chances, too late to go back to sleep. It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes.... and leap.

Meditation: part 3

I didn't meditate yesterday. I forgot until it was too late. Poo. 

Today, I meditated for 10 minutes. After my massage yesterday, my back is protesting much less to the good posture that I force upon it. Hum Sah, Hum Sah, and all that. And it was very peaceful. I focused on listening to my breathing and my heartbeat. I sent up a prayer of thanks in the middle of my meditation, thanking God for letting me have this heartbeat. Then, back in meditation, I almost, ALMOST, became a mental mute. Except for this one very loud thought, "WOW, I'M VERY QUIET TODAY."

So, I'm refreshed, and ready to enjoy my day with my mom. Shopping. 

Meditation: Part 2

Ah, day two of my attempts at meditation. 

Today's prayer was more...connected. I had a better grasp on what it was I needed to pray for and about. I asked for things specifically, and thanked Him for things specifically. 

As I took my first deep breaths, I had an inner monologue. 

Alright brain, it's time to quiet yourself and prepare to hear from God.

Alright. I'm quiet. 

Pause.

Hey, do you hear that? I think Lucy needs to go outside.

Shhh... you need to focus. Are you focusing? 

Focused.

Pause.

What should I focus on?

Remember, Hum Sah, Hum when you breathe in, Sah when you breathe out. Now, Shh!!

Alright. 

Pause.

I have to go to the bathroom. 

It is impossible to quiet my mind. I am a chatterbox, both inside my head and aloud. My goal is to mentally shut up tomorrow. We'll see how that goes. 

keep you posted. 

Meditation: Part 1

This morning, I woke up, stretched, rubbed my eyes, and thought "Oh crap, it's meditation time." I'll admit I was both anticipating this, and dreading it. I  told Lucy to shut-up and go back to sleep (not the most peaceful thoughts before meditation, I admit), and then I sat down "indian-style", placed my hands facing up on my knees, and took three deep breaths. I immediately started worrying about my posture. To sit with a straight back, engages my abdomen, which means I can't really relax. But I feel bad slumping over my lap. So, I straightened my back, leaned slightly forward, and started to pray. 

I prayed first, because I felt it was reckless to open up myself to the universe without first speaking with the God that has given me His Spirit. So, I prayed. My prayers are personal and often intense, so what I prayed about will stay between the Lord and I. Suffice to say there was a lot of thankfulness, and a lot of supplication. And then, I mediated.

The stillness was pretty good. I could stay stationary, even when my left foot fell asleep. The goal is 20 minutes in the state of listening to God. I breathed deep. I tried to fill up every inch of my body with my breath. I tried to focus on these words "hum sah", which means "you are that, being everything" in Sanskrit. I was mentally quiet. Well, quiet for me. 

My request, unspoken, was this, "Speak to me Lord." I must report that I didn't hear a booming, mountain-shaking voice saying, "Mandy, I'm here. I want you to move to Calcutta and eat bugs. You will be known as the selfless, Calcutta-dwelling, bug-eating follower of Christ."Alas, I heard nothing but my own breath, my own thoughts, "hum sah, hum sah, hum sah." I did this for a while, and then I rose out of meditation. I prayed again, asking God to keep me mindful of his presence throughout my day. I was feeling kind of proud of myself, and greatful for the time I had spent with God. Then I looked at the clock.

I had been meditating for 7 minutes. 

Congratulations to Meet You

I love the book I'm reading right now. It's called "Eat, Pray, Love", about a woman's one-year journey of self-exploration. She journey's first to Italy, for pleasure, then to India, for spiritual-enlightenment, then Bali, to find a balance of both. I don't agree with the author, who is a firm believer in God (good) and that there is NOT just one way to him (not so good). However, the narrative voice in the book stirs something within me. Her incessant need to see the world, and more importantly, interact with all the people therein, is a calling I can relate to.

Her journey starts in Italy. As I read this part of the book, I am overcome with envy. The woman takes 4 months to do the following: eat and talk. Good Lord, that would be awesome! (Actually, I kind of do that now, I just don't do it with a purpose). She is learning Italian, which she calls the most beautiful language in the world. I concur. My favorite word she explains in her book is "atrevesiamo" which means "let us cross over" in Italian. It's a term that is used when crossing the street, but more poetically, it can mean that it is time for two people to move on from a certain situation, fight, or period of time. My second favorite word has to be "Apetsi" which means, loosely translated, "my little moron."

She then goes to India, happier and 35lbs more heavy. She lives in an Ashram, or a temple/dorm/thingy. (This is also where a sweet Hindu man greets her every morning with "congratulations to meet you." Here is where I plan on stealing some of the information that she shares and applying it in my life. First and foremost, meditation. When we say that word, we think Ohm, buddhist and hindu statues, and weird orange robes. Actually, meditation is a spiritual discipline in Christianity, and it is found in almost every religion in one form or another. So, here is my quest. This is my Spring Break, for the the next 5 days, I am going to start every day in 30 minute meditation. She describes meditation in detail, and I am going to be selective in which parts I will do. (I understand that this isn't how it's supposed to be done, but that's alright). First, I will remain utterly and completely still. I will fail at this, but I will try. Then, I will remain utterly and completely silent. At this, I will MOST certainly fail. For it's mental silence as much as it is verbal. I plan on praying to the Lord, then remaining silent, waiting on His voice. I like the way she put it. "Prayer is the act of talking to God, meditation is the practice of listening." Wanna take a wild guess on which one I'm better at?

I'll be blogging daily, so you can feel my failures and (hopefully) small triumphs with me.

And now, atrevesiamo.

Fieldtrips are like wedgies, you can't control it, and you can't fix it in public. Did that make sense?

Fieldtrip day!
We're going to the Children's Muesum of Houston, also known as every educators heart atttack waiting to happen. And when you have deaf children, you travel with EXPENSIVE equipment. (I once estimated how much the technology in my room is worth (a audio tower, 3 microphones, 9 hearing aids, 2 Cochlear Implants) and I think it would be around $120,000. Geez.
So if I survive the day, I have to clean and do laundry tonight so I can pack tomorrow for Oklahoma! I'll be going to Scotti O's house in Chickasha first, then onto Tulsa a few days later. Yay! I'll get to see my besties, and my family, who I haven't seen in 3 months. I'm pumped.

Updatechalater!

Woe is me... right?

Things are tough all over, aren't they? They are in Houston fo' sho'. Mostly money woes. Now tell me if this isn't the picture of insanity: I get all upset about how much money I've spent, so I go shopping. Makes a ton of sense. In High School I used to say "Giving away money is like giving away your problems." Easy to say when it's NOT YO' MONEY. I bought 60 dollars worth of books yesterday. Did you catch that? SIXTY DOLLARS. And no book was more than $6. Yes, that means I got a ton of books. Time to "get literate." Maybe with more reading, I'll be a better writer, and stop saying things like "fo' sho'" and "not yo' money." Then again it's mostly historical fiction, so my writing could get really weird really quick.

I have 5 more work days, and then I'm out of here. I'm driving to Chickasha first (holla' if you want me to stop by and see you) to hang out with Scotti O. Then I'll be making the very short trip (in comparison) to Broken Arrow. I'll be very glad to be home. And I'm glad my mom and I 86'd the trip to Branson. Apparently it's simply an entertaining rest place for the old and infirm.

Lastly, I would like to share with you my "sustaining song." I've felt very powerless lately, even in my own life. And when I sing this song to myself, I am reminded of One who is all powerful. Read the lyrics. Sing it to yourself. Tell me if you don't feel the same.

How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory

Behold the Man upon a cross,
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocing voice,
Call out among the scoffers

It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom

Do I have a sign on my back?

My dog is a gonner. I'm gonna kill her, and explain it nicely to the ASPCA. When they hear what she did, they'll condone my actions. It's completely justified.
This morning, we go outside, she does her thing...twice... and then we head back in. I go in to the bathroom to finish getting ready. In the reflection of the mirror I can see she's sitting on my bed. Then, I see what she's doing...she's PEEING. ON MY BED. Her nastiness got on the bedspread and my "5th Grade Rocks" Tshirt that I had just laid out. I may have freaked out a little. And she may have gotten the spanking (on her nose) of her lifetime. And she may be banished to her kennel for the rest of her life.
Then, I got in my car, and my favorite pair of jeans took their last breath and walked into the light. Split. Right down the inner thigh. You've GOT to be kidding me.
I got a Light N' Fluffy from Smoothie King. He's the only one who understands. (the king, that is.)
Yorkie-Silky-Evil-Terrier for sale. Any takers?

Whoops

Ah, we meet again. Once more, I have started a blog/jornal/project, and left it to sit in it's decaying remains until I noticed it again. Whoops. Not that anyone really reads my blog, but it's nice to think that I have a following of highly educated and rather good-looking people hanging on my every word... words that I haven't shared since last September.
So, things are pretty good for the most part. Still live in the Hovel, still chase Lucy around every morning, still teach 5th grade deaf ed. Not alot has changed, except the people. I hang out with a much different crowd these days. Mostly people from my church that I don't find condescening or hypocritical. These people are real. They love Christ, and they love people. Therefore, I love them.
My two best friends got married. One to Mr. Perfect-for Her, one to Mr. Better-than-You. I'm still besties with the best friend who DIDN'T marry the narccisistic control freak. The other, well... what can you do? Nothing. Sit, wait, and be a safety net for when all hell breaks loose.
I am so, so bored with life. Do you ever get that way? I'm a natural vagabond (and no, there's not a negative connotation to that word... it simply means that if i sit still too long, my butt starts to itch). Stay in one place doesn't suit me well. I need to get out of the Hovel. Onto bigger and better things... hopefully that include a yard (which I will never mow, by the way). But I am a poor and lowly teacher. A house would require one of two things. A roommate, or a husband. Since roommates are usually easier to live with, I choose the former. However, I know no one who a.) needs a roommate as well, b.) wants to live outside the loop, or c.) who could stand living with me. Let me know if you know of such a person. I'm fairly sure they only exhist in the stories of Brahm.
So, hopefully it wont be 6 more months before I post again. But, I can't promise. Tell your friends.