Musings on life's mundane moments, the spirit of nature and people, and stories of my beloved Michigan.
December 16, 2015
Big Cat Protects a Village
November 17, 2015
They Saw It All
I have a hate/love relationship with spinning. The day of class I go through this dread state, even to the point of possibly being a bit snappy with my husband. As the time to leave arrives we put on our gym clothes and head to the Y, still with an edge because I KNOW what awaits! Yes, spinning hurts in a strange way that both terrifies me and makes me proud to be considered "in shape" enough to complete this rigorous exercise.
Ours is a semi-serious class - I think my friend and I are rather cavalier and joke around a lot before and sometimes during the spin, probably much to our coach's disapproval.
So we begin class - it takes some time on the bike but finally the second wind arrives and now it is all mental. I try to psych myself to the end of this "torture" by counting the number of songs, watching my mileage and vowing to stay until only I reach ten well-earned miles but know I'll actually stay for the entire session. Mind games - doing and imagining anything to get through class.
A couple weeks ago we were pumping away in a steady, long and steep climb when all of a sudden, I felt this funny feeling in my legs. My outer shorts snap had popped and my shorts fell down to my knees, quickly. I grabbed at them as my friend's daughter looked back at me over my exclamation. She smiled in a perplexed way. You see, we face a wall of mirrors so the entire class could see I was struggling to pull my pants back up. After I had secured said garment - my inner chuckling made the rest of the hour a blur, a fun time. I was silently singing an old song, the words are unsure but goes something like: "mommy had a baby and her head popped off." Now why did my wardrobe malfunction remind me of that song, I have no clue. Of course, after class I believe I was the first one out the door!
October 21, 2015
I Grabbed the Wrong Leg
September 18, 2015
Steps taken for my pilgrimage
September 17, 2015
Time of rediscovery
I am a retired Baby Boomer.
The second month of this new freedom finds me seeking my identity, post-work, and reevaluating what I want from life. In spite of this wide-open space filled with opportunities to uncover, I remain stuck remembering hurtful remarks made trying to demean and break my spirit -- "put me in my place". One particular comment of "who do you think you are?" continues to hold me captive. I earned my degree in journalism and heard, "it's about time" with no effort of a congratulations for this accomplishment.
These negative judgements, perhaps bullying, have been roadblocks in my quest to change, grow and challenge myself throughout life as in the depths of my soul, I believed what people told me. But, I am my father's daughter. He had such an ability to rise above injuries, surgeries and medical conditions, to create something new in his life. And, I am my father's daughter.
- I took a class at Northern Michigan's Interlochen Fine Arts Camp, where we designed, brainstormed and created blogs. I found my cubbyhole, an activity that feeds my soul and allows for my writing and telling of stories -- in particular, freedom to share my life without verbal judgement. I am The Barefoot Norwegian.
- I tore our small galley kitchen apart, chose calming new colors, and proceeded to sand, paint, toss and create a pleasant and peaceful place to create meals.
- I meet with a "life coach" (a person who counsels and encourages clients on matters having to do with careers or personal challenges - Oxford Languages). I cherish the personal time where the coach hears me and guides my many musings and directions, while creating an acceptable action plan. I highly recommend finding a life coach if you are blocked, scared to move forward, or want to bounce ideas around.
- Learning to accept that I'm an equal to others and having goals are important at any age.
June 12, 2015
I had a dream
Finding the hall, I walked into the classroom - which was full of obvious intelligent and highly successful people. The teacher welcomed me and asked me where my tuba was.
...and so, the adventure begins...
My biggest cheering section |
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