A Woman of Wonder

I loved her since I was a child, this Wonder Woman person. I would put a headband around my forehead and spin around turning into her. I would take my jump rope and that would be my lasso and I fought against evil. I watched her on TV, always in awe of how she carried herself, her goodness, her ability to beat the bad guys, and her beauty too, yes.

So, it was with great but contained excitement that I went to see the movie yesterday. At almost two and a half hours, I had my doubts that it would hold me, as I tend to fall asleep during movies these days (I blame it on being older than I once was), but I was completely immersed in Diana’s story. She held my heart still. What struck me the most were two things in particular: she didn’t know her strength, nor did she hesitate when facing her foe. Diana had no idea. She didn’t know she was special, didn’t know how powerful she could really be. If only we believed in our strength before seeing it; have a little faith. She was willing to give her all for her cause, without hesitation, even in the face of her greatest adversary. One whom she hardly knew anything about. She didn’t know if she could beat him, didn’t know what he was capable of. But she went ahead, straight for him, every time.

It’s so easy to write when I’m “in my feelings.” (When did that expression even come into existence?) I got a text from a friend yesterday and every time I look at it I get a little emotional. Honestly, I’m not even 100% sure of what he meant and who he was referring to, but I claimed it for myself. Regardless of the why and who, he was impressed to send it to me and I don’t believe in accidents. Only eight words: “There is a girl…who won’t be pigeonholed.”

The weight of my world is pressing down on me. Only when it lets up a bit do I realize I’ve been holding my breath for weeks.

The greatest source of joy can also be the worst source of pain, as I watch one of my children suffer from an illness, as he lay in the hospital bed even now, asleep, as blood is being transfused into him. I keep watching.

Comfort Food

I’ve been thinking about this for little while. Really, just a little, only over the past week or so. This concept of comfort food has me intrigued a bit. I never felt that it applied to me. Never really understood it – eating to soothe yourself. Is that even what it means? I didn’t look it up honestly. But as of late I find myself going back to things I once knew, once did, once enjoyed. On my journey to “find myself,” to figure out what I really and truly like, and how I want to spend my time, I figure that if I start small with tasks I deem relatively easy then I should be able to work myself up to more difficult, complex tasks. When I was young I used to read. A lot. I used to take piano lessons by order of my grandmother. I used to write in my journal almost every day. I rode my bicycle every day after school. And what has it come to now? Without even thinking about it I find I have been trying to revert back to my younger self. Granted, the physical is gone [insert ssmirk here] but I find a certain “comfort” in the familiarity of doing the things I once did on a regular basis. It almost feels like picking up where I left off – reading again, riding again, practicing my French. But, why, I ask myself? Because it’s comforting to fall back to the things I already know. Because there is a history there so I don’t feel like I’m starting from scratch. Because those things were easy once I figure they must be easy still. All of the above probably but mostly because they are familiar to me. Hence they are my comfort foods. Different time and place and space, but comforting nonetheless. I wouldn’t consider doing what you know to be “evil” per se, but at what point do you break out and move past familiarity to growth? Is it wrong to merely sit back and do what comes easily, naturally,…comfortably? These considerations just bring more questions to my mind. Nothing is black and white. Could comfort indeed be evil? Ok, ok, evil is a strong word, I agree, but if it doesn’t serve us well then either it serves us badly or doesn’t serve us at all, both of which are not positive anyway.

I admit I could forever remain content in my comfort zone with my bicycle, books, notebooks, and a few other items, but I will not. My plan is to get better at a few things, build confidence, and go on and conquer other areas of my life. What say you?

Looking Good

Participated in a renewal of vows / recomittment service this past weekend. It was a big to-do, a replica of what a real wedding would be, resplendent with beautiful brides all done up, handsome grooms, blooming bouquets and boutonnieres, flower girls, bridesmaids, groomsmen, pastor in garb, and the site rightly decorated befitting “I do again’s.”

The event was in the works for a few months. It entailed detailed and exhaustive preparation. Not a piece was left undone – centerpieces and table settings included – everything was perfect. Rehearsals leading up to the grand day ensured that everyone knew where to be and when, how to walk and with whom, what to say and how to say it. Not having a dress rehearsal meant that we were not completely prepared, but it was close enough – no one tripped over their gowns. (I should add that we were indeed instructed to not have long trains.)

There was some anticipation leading up to the day, I’ll admit. Some trepidation even. I had every intention of wearing my original wedding dress, even though it was thirteen years old. What were my chances? What was my point? Did I have a point??

Some emergency protein fasting saw me fit into my beloved dress to the wonder of the other brides and onlookers.


I could go on to say that, yes, I almost tripped going up the steps because, yes, I had a little itty bitty train, but hubby was there to support me so I didn’t go down. lol

Anywho, this post is too long already and I didn’t even get to my point.  🙂  After the ceremony, as we were taking turns getting our pictures taken, one woman decides to tell confide in me. Me. The person with minimal friends. Me. The person with, maybe, three girlfriends. Total. I have no clue if my response is appropriate and as she was speaking I was hearing and doing my best to be fully present. I was out of my comfort zone…. Well, long story longer, she told me about how she had low self-esteem growing up because she was overweight, how she never thought she was pretty because of it. I told her she was beautiful, and I wasn’t lying. I told her I wish I could instill confidence in every little girl so she wouldn’t grow up doubting herself or beauty or her worth. I told her that I too didn’t know or really believe I was beautiful until only about five years ago.

Later I thought for a while about all of the different possible reasons she could have had for sharing that with me. I still don’t know the answer. Maybe it’s as simple as she just wanted to share it with someone. Everything doesn’t have to be complicated, does it?


Ha! I got a Bluetooth keyboard so now I can post on the go, either using my tablet OR my phone. Yay! May not be generally that exciting but at the moment I’m loving the idea of it. Oops, have to pack up…the library is closing in 9..8..7… minutes.  🙂

What did you get?


I was tasked the other day to share my favorite gift received from Christmases past. I gotta tell you, I was at a loss. Big time. I thought it would have been easy to think back over the last less-than-40 years and remember what I was given, but I could barely remember one thing. I found that strange and quite disturbing. People went out of their way to think of me and consider me, and yet I couldn’t conjure up in my mind anything substantial. Even now I still have a difficult time. It’s been over a week since I was asked the question. I asked my husband to help me and he could barely remember what he bought me last year much less any time over the past 13 years of our marriage. I asked my eight year old daughter who was not surprisingly of any help. I even asked my mother who was sitting beside me at the time. She came back with, “What about the rocking horse you got when you were three?” Wooow, mom, really? lol  I DID love that horse, but I don’t remember getting it, I only remember having it, so to me that couldn’t count as a valid answer. What did come to mind were two, well, four, Secret Santa gifts – two were beyond cool because of how meaningful they were. The other two were in the opposite direction of meaningful so I won’t go into details about them. (I hope that anyone who ever gave me a gift for Christmas is not reading this right now….) I’ve gotten quite a few meaningful gifts but I couldn’t say when much less to say whether or not which one I would consider the best. What was the best gift you ever received for Christmas?

Ran into an old friend yesterday…

How many stories begin with those few words? Makes me laugh to think about it, about how cliche it must sound. But it’s true! I did run into a person whom I have always considered a true friend. When I think of her, the thoughts are always good ones. Besides fond memories and fun times, her sincerity and thoughtfulness are what draw me to her. Life has separated us over time, which can be expected, but does not have to be accepted. I have accepted it, but maybe I will decide to be proactive in changing that.

Push, Pull, Shove, Yank??

I am blessed. I have amazing people in my life that I call friends. They encourage me and help to show me things from other perspectives. I wouldn’t be where I am without them. Sounds corny, I know, but it’s true.

Recently I began thinking about how they influence me. Not “in what way” but really how do they do what they do to me?  🙂

Most are of the encouraging type – they nudge me along in whatever direction I’m going, they pull me a little if they see I’m veering off course. These are very comforting people to have around. I feel safe with them. That feeling of safety allows me to try new paths with less fear because I know I’m not going it alone. I can grow in an environment like that. These friends are considerate and caring, great sounding boards, and some of our interactions cause me slight discomfort, in a good way, in that I’m constantly challenged.

I have other friends who make me quite a bit more uncomfortable. These friends are just as caring but not so nice about it.  🙂  They push and pull me, they almost force me stretch my mind, to “be” outside of the box. They hold me accountable and ask me difficult questions, they tell me when I suck at something and don’t mince words to make me feel good. Sometimes I wonder why I maintain our friendship, it can be that uncomfortable. Is it needless to say that I don’t have many of this type of friend? Anyway, I can’t help but grow with this type of friend as well. It’s either grow or run away screaming. I believe the intentions are good so I try to take what I can, as much as I can, and use it to better myself.

The one thing that is consistent between the two is that I’m forced, whether a little or a lot, to answer questions. They might be direct, implied or even rhetorical questions. They might be difficult or easy. But they are asked and they make me think. Sounds like I’m going back on that introspection tip….