I took up journaling...mostly because I had things to say that didn't need to be public knowledge. I'm still journaling, but I wanted to start sharing my heart again because every time I do I feel like a piece of it makes more sense to me again. Little by little.
"Oh for a dream - oh for the wishing. Oh to keep hoping all the while knowing the delicate tightrope I'm walking between reality and dreaming.
'Until the day this love is returned to me or surpassed by another, my heart will be grateful for the experiece of a perfect love.
'And I keep praying for continued grace, peace and mercies I don't deserve..."
Friday, November 18, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Time Goes By So Slowly
I am, in my truest nature, an introvert. I spend a lot of time reflecting. Some of it is spent in public blogs, some of it is spent writing page after page of letters to people who will never receive them, I talk a LOT about what I think and how I feel, but I worry that I'm always saying the wrong thing. Somehow over the years since graduating college I figured out how to talk to appear extroverted, but at the end of the day - I'm not.
Today I find myself lost in time. Thinking about the last 5 years since I've left Olivet, the 10 years since I graduated high school...and how who I am now is almost an entirely different person. But when I sit and think about years and years of change in myself, what I keep falling back on is the past 5 months in Lansing, the past 7 since I left Joplin.
Most importantly, it's been 4 weeks. Four weeks since all of my plans changed. Four weeks of walking on egg shells and trying to find the right words to say. Four weeks of slowly realizing that there's nothing I can do to change the outcome. Four weeks. It feels like it's been forever already. All I know is that I have to let go. That every day I make one more change in an attempt to allow my heart to heal. Slowly, but surely I suppose.
It's amazing what can happen in just 4 weeks. I fell in love in just about that period of time...but I'm finding you can't fall out of love quite so easily.
Every day strengthens the realization that not only do my plans have to change, but at some point he'll meet a woman who can be what he needs. I would probably be ok if I didn't have to know that part of the story. Alas, it's the part of the story that gets easier each time it happens.
Onto another 4 weeks...
Today I find myself lost in time. Thinking about the last 5 years since I've left Olivet, the 10 years since I graduated high school...and how who I am now is almost an entirely different person. But when I sit and think about years and years of change in myself, what I keep falling back on is the past 5 months in Lansing, the past 7 since I left Joplin.
Most importantly, it's been 4 weeks. Four weeks since all of my plans changed. Four weeks of walking on egg shells and trying to find the right words to say. Four weeks of slowly realizing that there's nothing I can do to change the outcome. Four weeks. It feels like it's been forever already. All I know is that I have to let go. That every day I make one more change in an attempt to allow my heart to heal. Slowly, but surely I suppose.
It's amazing what can happen in just 4 weeks. I fell in love in just about that period of time...but I'm finding you can't fall out of love quite so easily.
Every day strengthens the realization that not only do my plans have to change, but at some point he'll meet a woman who can be what he needs. I would probably be ok if I didn't have to know that part of the story. Alas, it's the part of the story that gets easier each time it happens.
Onto another 4 weeks...
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Cliiiimmmmbbb the Highest Mountainnnnn!!!
I have a paralyzing fear of heights. I suck at trust walks. I don't believe in falling backwards into the arms of someone smaller than me and hoping they catch me. And I super don't believe I can hang in the air from some tiny rope while a small person is my counter weight on the ground. Super don't believe.
My roommate got into rock climbing this year. He talks about it like crazy, purchased all the gear, and has avidly gone looking for climbing activities. He invites me along occasionally, but my fear of heights and my fear of making a fool of myself are generally enough reason for me to come up with a reason not to go.
That all changed this week. After another day of lamentations about relationships and him having to listen to my insane psychobabble, he offered the opportunity to go climbing again as something to fill my Friday night so I could stop thinking about what I may or may not rather do. It seemed like a good way to stay out of trouble and he's enough heavier/stronger than me that I wasn't too worried about him killing me.
And so we spent all night making plans around work schedules, class schedules, and feeding the dog schedules. I caught up on laundry so I'd have something to wear and as soon as my INSANE clinic was over, we set out to climb this lovely sheer wall of wet, cold rock.
After cramming my feet into special wall climbing rubber shoes...I did it. I climbed about 10 feet off the ground and my hands were so cold I couldn't pay close enough attention to surpass the jutted out part. So I came down to warm the hands and reevaluate the rock face.
After watching the boys climb a few more times, I decided that this would be my last chance to conquer the climb until the spring. So I strapped myself back into my harness, tied up all my knots and jumped back on the wall. And after a long time of trying to find the right foot hold to keep me from smashing my head into the rock above me, I did it. I conquered the trouble spot. Of course, it took me forever and by the time I got to my next trouble spot, my arms were so sore and my legs were so tired and the sun was almost gone that I decided to save it for next time. But I did it, I conquered the part which caused me to struggle for so long!!
More importantly, I didn't freak out. Usually when I'm with other people doing things like this I apologize over and over again and I let myself get so embarrassed that I can't complete the task. Then Grant said, "The person who does the best at climbing is the person who has the most fun." I feel like I'm going to make this sentence my new life mantra. Being able to be free to have fun while not feeling like I was ruining everyone's day was awesome. Knowing I had plenty of time to just figure it out was exactly what I needed.
Now I can't wait to go again. I didn't quite get to the top, but I'll be ready for the spring :) Plus, now I know I need to get back to the gym so I'll be super strong and ready for next time!
Yay for new life experiences :)
My roommate got into rock climbing this year. He talks about it like crazy, purchased all the gear, and has avidly gone looking for climbing activities. He invites me along occasionally, but my fear of heights and my fear of making a fool of myself are generally enough reason for me to come up with a reason not to go.
That all changed this week. After another day of lamentations about relationships and him having to listen to my insane psychobabble, he offered the opportunity to go climbing again as something to fill my Friday night so I could stop thinking about what I may or may not rather do. It seemed like a good way to stay out of trouble and he's enough heavier/stronger than me that I wasn't too worried about him killing me.
And so we spent all night making plans around work schedules, class schedules, and feeding the dog schedules. I caught up on laundry so I'd have something to wear and as soon as my INSANE clinic was over, we set out to climb this lovely sheer wall of wet, cold rock.
After cramming my feet into special wall climbing rubber shoes...I did it. I climbed about 10 feet off the ground and my hands were so cold I couldn't pay close enough attention to surpass the jutted out part. So I came down to warm the hands and reevaluate the rock face.After watching the boys climb a few more times, I decided that this would be my last chance to conquer the climb until the spring. So I strapped myself back into my harness, tied up all my knots and jumped back on the wall. And after a long time of trying to find the right foot hold to keep me from smashing my head into the rock above me, I did it. I conquered the trouble spot. Of course, it took me forever and by the time I got to my next trouble spot, my arms were so sore and my legs were so tired and the sun was almost gone that I decided to save it for next time. But I did it, I conquered the part which caused me to struggle for so long!!
Now I can't wait to go again. I didn't quite get to the top, but I'll be ready for the spring :) Plus, now I know I need to get back to the gym so I'll be super strong and ready for next time!
Yay for new life experiences :)
Friday, October 21, 2011
To Be or Not to Be...a Cardiologist
Ok, that's not actually on the table as a real-live option. I like heart stuff, kind of. Mostly, I think if I could do ONLY interventional cardiology I would do it for sure in a heartbeat (ha! get it?!)
Unforunately, once you pick a path you don't get to pick and choose which objectives you complete. You don't get to just cut corners simply because you're tired of prescribing the same beta blocker to every. single. patient.
My cardiologist this week was awesome. He was a wonderful teacher and while he made me feel like an idiot and publicly berated me more than once, I was kind of ok with it because he was nailing me on the things I need to know. Plus, we always came back around to joking afterwards. I wasn't totally convinced he hated me...not totally.
So early in the week he asked me if I want to specialize. It's probably the most frequently asked question I hear. I told him I am interested in heme/onc, which typically receives an echo of moans of disgusted pity hurled in my direction. This experience was no different. He couldn't believe I was interested in such a sad and depressing field...but I held my ground and said it's what I love. He was not convinced.
Today was my last day with this particular cardiologist. I watched him spend the whole day teasing his fellow attendings and as we walked through the ER to see a patient he said to me, "See? Do you really think heme/onc is this much fun?" And for a brief moment I lost my mind and told him that after spending the last month in cath conference, even if I had any interest in cardiology before, I definitely am too terrified now.
The PA we work with could do nothing but laugh. I had a paralyzing fear that I was going to get destroyed by this attending for basically being a giant wimp and admitting it outloud. He just laughed along like he had no idea what I was talking about and said that he never asks questions of his fellows that they shouldn't already be able to answer and that if they can't, they won't get it wrong a second time.
Yeah...maybe so. But seriously, I am grateful to never ever ever present in a cath conference to a room of male cardiologists. The yelling is more than I can handle :)
On the bright side, my new favorite heme/onc fellow presented a lecture on transfusions today. I was 40 minutes late because of my cardiology patient who showed up in the ER 20 minutes before the lecture was supposed to start, but I made it. AND favorite fellow told me I looked interested in the lecture the whole time. Even better, guess who has a date in the heme/onc office for the next 4 weeks with the program director of the heme/onc program here?
That would be me!
Bring on the living!
Unforunately, once you pick a path you don't get to pick and choose which objectives you complete. You don't get to just cut corners simply because you're tired of prescribing the same beta blocker to every. single. patient.
My cardiologist this week was awesome. He was a wonderful teacher and while he made me feel like an idiot and publicly berated me more than once, I was kind of ok with it because he was nailing me on the things I need to know. Plus, we always came back around to joking afterwards. I wasn't totally convinced he hated me...not totally.
So early in the week he asked me if I want to specialize. It's probably the most frequently asked question I hear. I told him I am interested in heme/onc, which typically receives an echo of moans of disgusted pity hurled in my direction. This experience was no different. He couldn't believe I was interested in such a sad and depressing field...but I held my ground and said it's what I love. He was not convinced.
Today was my last day with this particular cardiologist. I watched him spend the whole day teasing his fellow attendings and as we walked through the ER to see a patient he said to me, "See? Do you really think heme/onc is this much fun?" And for a brief moment I lost my mind and told him that after spending the last month in cath conference, even if I had any interest in cardiology before, I definitely am too terrified now.
The PA we work with could do nothing but laugh. I had a paralyzing fear that I was going to get destroyed by this attending for basically being a giant wimp and admitting it outloud. He just laughed along like he had no idea what I was talking about and said that he never asks questions of his fellows that they shouldn't already be able to answer and that if they can't, they won't get it wrong a second time.
Yeah...maybe so. But seriously, I am grateful to never ever ever present in a cath conference to a room of male cardiologists. The yelling is more than I can handle :)
On the bright side, my new favorite heme/onc fellow presented a lecture on transfusions today. I was 40 minutes late because of my cardiology patient who showed up in the ER 20 minutes before the lecture was supposed to start, but I made it. AND favorite fellow told me I looked interested in the lecture the whole time. Even better, guess who has a date in the heme/onc office for the next 4 weeks with the program director of the heme/onc program here?
That would be me!
Bring on the living!
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Mr. Right Now
There's this idea you hear when you're a kid...especially when you're a little girl. It's called "The One". Between every Disney movie I've ever watched, a family full of stories of "The One" and my own dreams of what my life should look like I'd say I was pretty convinced by the stories.
There's a line in Ever After that sticks with me during times like this. It's after the prince meets Cinderella and is discussing his feelings with Da Vinci. He asks: "Do you really think there is only one perfect mate? ...Well then how can you be certain to find them? And if you do find them, are they really the one for you or do you only think they are? And what happens if the person you're supposed to be with never appears, or, or she does, but you're too distracted to notice?"
Da Vinci: "You learn to pay attention"
Prince: "Then let's say God puts two people on Earth and they are lucky enough to find one another. But one of them gets hit by lightning. Well then what? Is that it? Or, perchance, you meet someone new and marry all over again. Is that the lady you're supposed to be with or was it the first? And if so, when the two of them were walking side by side were they both the one for you and you just happened to meet the first one first or, was the second one supposed to be first? And is everything just chance or are some things meant to be?"
Now, I don't know the answer to the question...I only know what my experiences have been. I suppose for everyone the answer is different. I also imagine that people who have been fortunate enough to get married probably have a different answer than I. However, I would be the first to say that I still believe had I married any of the men I loved during the time I loved him, he would have been "The One".
I recognize that this is unconventional thinking, especially from an overly romantic girl who simply wants to share her life with someone who fits. However, I also recognize that who I was in each relationship is a far cry from who I am now. I believe that when people get married they remain in their mindset. Sure, there's growth from life experiences, but a person's understanding of the world is forever shaped by their spouse. That's why you got married in the first place, right? You believed basically the same way, enjoyed each other's conversations and didn't argue over the pettiness of life.
I would also propose that perhaps most people don't change their philosphies of life at the same pace I have. I know that who I was in college (5 years ago, yikes), is so beyond who I would call myself now. Which, to be fair, is maybe why I never had a successful relationship at that time - I was not being my true self during those days.
I think people will be offended by these statements, but I don't say them to offend. Perhaps I say them as comfort to myself. Regardless, I believe that God can change the plan when someone falls off the path. I don't think I can believe that if your "The One" gets married to some skinny brunette in college not knowing he would meet you years later that you will be punished with a life of sadness and loneliness. I truly believe that life is full of pinch hitters, and I would still tell you that the men I planned to marry at "those times" of my life, are still the men I would have married then. Of course, I am not married now, even after those men of those times, so I'm sure someone will fire back that clearly God has someone more special and more amazing in mind.
I just find it hard to believe. I want to believe in the theory of "The One", but the longer I sit around waiting and the more experiences I have in the dating realm, the more I believe one of two things:
1) There can't be just one person meant for every person, but maybe one person who works during that time of your life. (However, once you're married, you can't use this as an excuse for no longer being in that time...the point of marriage is that you bind yourselves together in a holy union and your thoughts and ideas tend to meld together. Once you're married, you stay basically the same as you were the day you met - your core ceases to change. Or so I say, but that's a topic for another day)
2) Something is horribly wrong with me.
Since today I am unwilling to believe the latter, I will happily go on preaching the former. Which is simply this - God works in the nuances of our lives to bring about grace and peace into our lives...ultimately. Which is really the point of it - free will can't exist with a God who knows what you'll do - which means we have a God who is flexible and rearranges a plan for each of us around our own perversions of the original. Knowing that alone is enough to make me believe that there can't possibly be a punishment if the person meant for you finds his way to someone else...or gets killed in a car accident or dies from cancer.
So the Mr. Right of right now can still be the Mr. Right of your forever, but things change and life throws wrenches and I still believe that all you can do is pray for direction and peace when things divert in a different direction than you may have expected. Maybe Mr. Right Now will find his way back, but maybe there will just be another Mr. Right Now down the road who fits what I need for the time of my life I find him.
Or maybe I'm just the proudest person who's ever lived and can't possibly stand the idea of being so wrong 3 times in a row. Which is a very real possibility :)
There's a line in Ever After that sticks with me during times like this. It's after the prince meets Cinderella and is discussing his feelings with Da Vinci. He asks: "Do you really think there is only one perfect mate? ...Well then how can you be certain to find them? And if you do find them, are they really the one for you or do you only think they are? And what happens if the person you're supposed to be with never appears, or, or she does, but you're too distracted to notice?"
Da Vinci: "You learn to pay attention"
Prince: "Then let's say God puts two people on Earth and they are lucky enough to find one another. But one of them gets hit by lightning. Well then what? Is that it? Or, perchance, you meet someone new and marry all over again. Is that the lady you're supposed to be with or was it the first? And if so, when the two of them were walking side by side were they both the one for you and you just happened to meet the first one first or, was the second one supposed to be first? And is everything just chance or are some things meant to be?"
Now, I don't know the answer to the question...I only know what my experiences have been. I suppose for everyone the answer is different. I also imagine that people who have been fortunate enough to get married probably have a different answer than I. However, I would be the first to say that I still believe had I married any of the men I loved during the time I loved him, he would have been "The One".
I recognize that this is unconventional thinking, especially from an overly romantic girl who simply wants to share her life with someone who fits. However, I also recognize that who I was in each relationship is a far cry from who I am now. I believe that when people get married they remain in their mindset. Sure, there's growth from life experiences, but a person's understanding of the world is forever shaped by their spouse. That's why you got married in the first place, right? You believed basically the same way, enjoyed each other's conversations and didn't argue over the pettiness of life.
I would also propose that perhaps most people don't change their philosphies of life at the same pace I have. I know that who I was in college (5 years ago, yikes), is so beyond who I would call myself now. Which, to be fair, is maybe why I never had a successful relationship at that time - I was not being my true self during those days.
I think people will be offended by these statements, but I don't say them to offend. Perhaps I say them as comfort to myself. Regardless, I believe that God can change the plan when someone falls off the path. I don't think I can believe that if your "The One" gets married to some skinny brunette in college not knowing he would meet you years later that you will be punished with a life of sadness and loneliness. I truly believe that life is full of pinch hitters, and I would still tell you that the men I planned to marry at "those times" of my life, are still the men I would have married then. Of course, I am not married now, even after those men of those times, so I'm sure someone will fire back that clearly God has someone more special and more amazing in mind.
I just find it hard to believe. I want to believe in the theory of "The One", but the longer I sit around waiting and the more experiences I have in the dating realm, the more I believe one of two things:
1) There can't be just one person meant for every person, but maybe one person who works during that time of your life. (However, once you're married, you can't use this as an excuse for no longer being in that time...the point of marriage is that you bind yourselves together in a holy union and your thoughts and ideas tend to meld together. Once you're married, you stay basically the same as you were the day you met - your core ceases to change. Or so I say, but that's a topic for another day)
2) Something is horribly wrong with me.
Since today I am unwilling to believe the latter, I will happily go on preaching the former. Which is simply this - God works in the nuances of our lives to bring about grace and peace into our lives...ultimately. Which is really the point of it - free will can't exist with a God who knows what you'll do - which means we have a God who is flexible and rearranges a plan for each of us around our own perversions of the original. Knowing that alone is enough to make me believe that there can't possibly be a punishment if the person meant for you finds his way to someone else...or gets killed in a car accident or dies from cancer.
So the Mr. Right of right now can still be the Mr. Right of your forever, but things change and life throws wrenches and I still believe that all you can do is pray for direction and peace when things divert in a different direction than you may have expected. Maybe Mr. Right Now will find his way back, but maybe there will just be another Mr. Right Now down the road who fits what I need for the time of my life I find him.
Or maybe I'm just the proudest person who's ever lived and can't possibly stand the idea of being so wrong 3 times in a row. Which is a very real possibility :)
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
I Think a Change Will Do You...well...umm...
I grew up calling myself a pessimist. I was pretty sure I was one. I had basically nothing good to say about myself in any regard so I think somehow I started calling that pessimism.
Now that I'm older and so much more wiser, I think I'm actually an optimistic person. In fact, I'm quite sure that people would describe me as such. I believe in the good in people, I love my job, I believe that bad days will get better, I believe people can change and the list goes on. However, I still think I struggle with the good things to say about myself, but I'm starting to call that insecurity rather than pessimism.
I had a long conversation with some of the besties this past weekend about how my insecurities have a way of rearing their ugly heads just about the time I think I have life under control. Things get super good and I get super pumped and I bounce around all happy and excited and bubbly and ridiculous. I mean...ridiculous. Until something rolls along that is totally unplanned and uncool and I find myself falling backwards.
You know, I used to blame this on the boys I dated. They weren't ready for commitment...they weren't willing to stick around...they didn't love me enough...whatever the excuse of the day may be. But now I'm dating a (super awesome, way cute, unbelievably great catch) guy who is none of those things to the point that I can't even pretend they are the truth. Even still...I have started finding myself insecure, and this time I have absolutely nothing to blame it on except my own absolute insecurities.
So here I find myself having to make a decision about what I'm going to believe about myself...and how I'm going to live my life...and what my expectations will be for myself.
To be completely honest, I'd rather live every day as a high day. To the point, in fact, that I probably even force it. It's hard for me to settle into routine because then I have to face the mundane that's still good and not scary. I have been told by my family that I'm not good with the change thing...and the older I get, I'm inclined to believe them. As much as I love a change in scenery, I don't handle a change in relationships well.
I guess the trick is knowing your expectations before blindly choosing some at random when it's convenient for the day. Maybe that's what I need to work on.
Or maybe I just suck at communicating.
Either way - I feel like every few months I have a long list of self-help ideas to push me into a new age of existential cross examination and a multitude of resolutions that then take over my life until it balances out again in a happy optimistic rainbow town with cute little bunnies hopping around smiling all day long. You know...until the next relational change sends me into a tailspin of emotion and insecurities that lead to me writing this exact same blog in a few months all over again.
Seriously, it is exhausting being me sometimes. :)
Now that I'm older and so much more wiser, I think I'm actually an optimistic person. In fact, I'm quite sure that people would describe me as such. I believe in the good in people, I love my job, I believe that bad days will get better, I believe people can change and the list goes on. However, I still think I struggle with the good things to say about myself, but I'm starting to call that insecurity rather than pessimism.
I had a long conversation with some of the besties this past weekend about how my insecurities have a way of rearing their ugly heads just about the time I think I have life under control. Things get super good and I get super pumped and I bounce around all happy and excited and bubbly and ridiculous. I mean...ridiculous. Until something rolls along that is totally unplanned and uncool and I find myself falling backwards.
You know, I used to blame this on the boys I dated. They weren't ready for commitment...they weren't willing to stick around...they didn't love me enough...whatever the excuse of the day may be. But now I'm dating a (super awesome, way cute, unbelievably great catch) guy who is none of those things to the point that I can't even pretend they are the truth. Even still...I have started finding myself insecure, and this time I have absolutely nothing to blame it on except my own absolute insecurities.
So here I find myself having to make a decision about what I'm going to believe about myself...and how I'm going to live my life...and what my expectations will be for myself.
To be completely honest, I'd rather live every day as a high day. To the point, in fact, that I probably even force it. It's hard for me to settle into routine because then I have to face the mundane that's still good and not scary. I have been told by my family that I'm not good with the change thing...and the older I get, I'm inclined to believe them. As much as I love a change in scenery, I don't handle a change in relationships well.
I guess the trick is knowing your expectations before blindly choosing some at random when it's convenient for the day. Maybe that's what I need to work on.
Or maybe I just suck at communicating.
Either way - I feel like every few months I have a long list of self-help ideas to push me into a new age of existential cross examination and a multitude of resolutions that then take over my life until it balances out again in a happy optimistic rainbow town with cute little bunnies hopping around smiling all day long. You know...until the next relational change sends me into a tailspin of emotion and insecurities that lead to me writing this exact same blog in a few months all over again.
Seriously, it is exhausting being me sometimes. :)
Monday, July 4, 2011
Paging Dr. Silly Blonde Girl...
You may be not-so-surprised to find that as this year goes on and my life is only further consumed by the work I do...this post will probably start looking more and more like the post of a crazy wanna-be doctor.
So intern year...the time in your life where you realize just how little you know. As a dear friend of mine put it, "
So intern year...the time in your life where you realize just how little you know. As a dear friend of mine put it, "
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Sigh...
My heart needs to get on board with my brain. I only like people after I move or after they leave or after they decide to get engaged...it is a really bad system. Sometimes being a girl is the lamest.
I'm surprisingly hesitant to get back in the game, but anxious to at the same time. It's definitely making for an interesting time in Michigan...
I'm surprisingly hesitant to get back in the game, but anxious to at the same time. It's definitely making for an interesting time in Michigan...
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Losing the Illizoo Status...
UHaul Packed.
Cartop Packed.
Kia Packed.
Vibe Packed.
Thank you notes Written.
Vaccination Records Found and Filed.
New Job Paperwork Found and Filed.
ACLS book Studied (Compressions first, breaths second. 30:2 ~ Go save a life).
Hair Cut.
Final Tan Utilized.
Checks Deposited.
Hugs Given.
HR Paperwork Filled out (tax forms, direct deposit, and quizzes completed...geez)
I'm sure that stethoscope is packed somewhere...
The process of moving is a huge pain...but I am so excited to get settled into a new place finally. Bring it on, Michigan - I'm ready to conquer residency :)
(Constant prayers by any and all are welcomed and encouraged)
Oh - and please visit...but please let me know when you want to come so I can disappoint you and tell you I'm working that weekend...because I'm pretty much working them all :)
Love - Casey
Cartop Packed.
Kia Packed.
Vibe Packed.
Thank you notes Written.
Vaccination Records Found and Filed.
New Job Paperwork Found and Filed.
ACLS book Studied (Compressions first, breaths second. 30:2 ~ Go save a life).
Hair Cut.
Final Tan Utilized.
Checks Deposited.
Hugs Given.
HR Paperwork Filled out (tax forms, direct deposit, and quizzes completed...geez)
I'm sure that stethoscope is packed somewhere...
The process of moving is a huge pain...but I am so excited to get settled into a new place finally. Bring it on, Michigan - I'm ready to conquer residency :)
(Constant prayers by any and all are welcomed and encouraged)
Oh - and please visit...but please let me know when you want to come so I can disappoint you and tell you I'm working that weekend...because I'm pretty much working them all :)
Love - Casey
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Europe
So I went to this wicked awesome place called "Europe". It was probably the greatest thing I have ever done. I struggled with the decision to go because I was concerned I would financially strap myself and what-not. Maybe I should have spent the money to do a missions trip...maybe I should have given all the money to the poor. Maybe all of that is true. Which means maybe I shouldn't be writing this blog post about how great it was...
But....it. was. GREAT!!!!
Like in every imaginable way, it was perfect. We flew into Barcelona, Spain and then took the ship to Marseilles, France; Savona, Italy; Rome, Italy; Naples, Italy; Messina, Italy; Venice, Italy; Palma de Mallorca, Spain and finally spent a day in Barcelona before flying out that night.
It was the most amazing trip. We ate dinner with this super awesome couple who I am sure I will be friends with for the rest of my life. They joined us on our adventures through the cities of Europe whenever they could. They were with us for our adventures on the ship. They provided a buffer for Matt and I when we wanted to do separate things. It was amazingly awesome. I could not have asked for a better cruise partner than Matt or a better cruise friendship than Steph and Pierre.
I wrote everyday on a little card what I loved about the day so I would never forget. That will probably make it's way to this blog soonly...but the thing that blew my mind about Europe was this: they loved God so much that they made their churches and their cities beautiful places to worship Him. Literally. Every day we went to a new city the highlight would be some unbelievably beautiful church that was commissioned for the sole purpose of worshiping God. Unbelievable.
We went to Notre Dame, the Sistine Chapel of Savona, the Sistine Chapel at the Vatican, St. Mark's Basilica in Venice, this awesome church in Messina, a huge beautiful cathedral in Mallorca, and finally - the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. I cannot begin to explain to you the love you see for the Father in these cathedrals. The sparkling gold mosaics of St. Marks Basilica and the gorgeous painted ceilings of the Sistine chapels that tell these amazing stories of God's love. The entire exterior of the Sagrada Familia explains the life of Jesus and the history of faith with towers dedicated to the apostles, evangelists, Mary and Jesus.
I mean...my church has a couple of crosses on and in it. I've seen churches with cool stained glass things. But to see someone's love for Christ poured out completely in this beautiful work of art still blows my mind. Pictures don't do it justice ever. Even their political buildings are full of works of various saints and the life of Christ. They had reminders everywhere of their history.
It boggles my mind how far we have come that we can't even say the name of God on our currency when there are cities built as a place to worship first. Every island in Venice had a church built first before anything else came.
What have I done that so fully shows my love of Christ in a way that can bring throngs of people to see the work everyday and stare at it in awe as they take in completely the story of Christ? What have I ever done that can silence crowds with wonder and adoration for an amazing God? Granted, I don't have any artistic gift at all, but if these men can use the gifts God gave them to create lasting images of His grace and mercy for centuries of people to see...then it seems to me that God has provided me the same power in the gifts He has given me and it is up to me to use them in such a way that it inspires generations to come.
But....it. was. GREAT!!!!
Like in every imaginable way, it was perfect. We flew into Barcelona, Spain and then took the ship to Marseilles, France; Savona, Italy; Rome, Italy; Naples, Italy; Messina, Italy; Venice, Italy; Palma de Mallorca, Spain and finally spent a day in Barcelona before flying out that night.
It was the most amazing trip. We ate dinner with this super awesome couple who I am sure I will be friends with for the rest of my life. They joined us on our adventures through the cities of Europe whenever they could. They were with us for our adventures on the ship. They provided a buffer for Matt and I when we wanted to do separate things. It was amazingly awesome. I could not have asked for a better cruise partner than Matt or a better cruise friendship than Steph and Pierre.
I wrote everyday on a little card what I loved about the day so I would never forget. That will probably make it's way to this blog soonly...but the thing that blew my mind about Europe was this: they loved God so much that they made their churches and their cities beautiful places to worship Him. Literally. Every day we went to a new city the highlight would be some unbelievably beautiful church that was commissioned for the sole purpose of worshiping God. Unbelievable.
We went to Notre Dame, the Sistine Chapel of Savona, the Sistine Chapel at the Vatican, St. Mark's Basilica in Venice, this awesome church in Messina, a huge beautiful cathedral in Mallorca, and finally - the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. I cannot begin to explain to you the love you see for the Father in these cathedrals. The sparkling gold mosaics of St. Marks Basilica and the gorgeous painted ceilings of the Sistine chapels that tell these amazing stories of God's love. The entire exterior of the Sagrada Familia explains the life of Jesus and the history of faith with towers dedicated to the apostles, evangelists, Mary and Jesus.
I mean...my church has a couple of crosses on and in it. I've seen churches with cool stained glass things. But to see someone's love for Christ poured out completely in this beautiful work of art still blows my mind. Pictures don't do it justice ever. Even their political buildings are full of works of various saints and the life of Christ. They had reminders everywhere of their history.
It boggles my mind how far we have come that we can't even say the name of God on our currency when there are cities built as a place to worship first. Every island in Venice had a church built first before anything else came.
What have I done that so fully shows my love of Christ in a way that can bring throngs of people to see the work everyday and stare at it in awe as they take in completely the story of Christ? What have I ever done that can silence crowds with wonder and adoration for an amazing God? Granted, I don't have any artistic gift at all, but if these men can use the gifts God gave them to create lasting images of His grace and mercy for centuries of people to see...then it seems to me that God has provided me the same power in the gifts He has given me and it is up to me to use them in such a way that it inspires generations to come.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Let's Hear It For The Boys!
I was just telling my good friend that if I could take every guy I've ever dated/non-dated/quasi-dated and smash all of their awesomeness into one super great guy...I would be set for life. And the beautiful part is that I really haven't dated that many guys, I've just been fortunate enough to date/non-date/quasi-date some really awesome ones. I have been really blessed with really mostly great relationships that have generally led to really awesome friendships.
And rather than sit here and straight out define what/when/where/why and hows on them (mostly because I know at least one or two of them occasionally check my blog and I don't want to be THAT girl)...I think I will just say that what I was looking for in a man when I graduated college is far from what I'm looking for in a man now. This is mostly because I have met these amazingly driven, well-spoken, hard-working, loyal kind of men whom I admire. The term "good man" has taken on a whole new meaning for me. It's not about the boys anymore...I just want a good man.
I once had a friend tell me that he would never call a woman beautiful unless he planned to marry her. Of course the guy told me this in college when I wasn't getting any or even turning many heads so the day a man called me beautiful kind of jacked me up. But I will say this - I am sure that I will marry a man who I can confidently call good. And that will probably be one of the best compliments I would ever be able to give.
I don't know why this is important to say now. Perhaps I'm reflecting on the good of the last few years as I'm preparing to pack up and move out to the new frontier. But this past weekend especially has made me really reflect on the good men I have been blessed to know.
I guess I just wanted to say thank you to the men who have so impacted my life in the past few years. These men who have made me feel beautiful; who have challenged me to be better physically, socially, spiritually, and academically; who have made me laugh until I cried; who have challenged (and beat) me in Disney Scene It; who have made me a part of their group of friends; who have opened their hearts to me; who have participated in my silliness; who are smarter than me and remind me often to keep me humble and grounded; who have held me while I nap after a long day of work; who have always volunteered a Disney movie option; who play me in racquetball and don't let me win (and get really mad when I do!); who play Disneyopoly and various board/card games whenever I ask; who always plan the perfect date; who have never let me get away with being negative about myself; and who have not been deterred by my sarcasm but have met it head on with equally excellent wit :)
These are the good men who have taught me about becoming a good woman and for that I will always be grateful.
And rather than sit here and straight out define what/when/where/why and hows on them (mostly because I know at least one or two of them occasionally check my blog and I don't want to be THAT girl)...I think I will just say that what I was looking for in a man when I graduated college is far from what I'm looking for in a man now. This is mostly because I have met these amazingly driven, well-spoken, hard-working, loyal kind of men whom I admire. The term "good man" has taken on a whole new meaning for me. It's not about the boys anymore...I just want a good man.
I once had a friend tell me that he would never call a woman beautiful unless he planned to marry her. Of course the guy told me this in college when I wasn't getting any or even turning many heads so the day a man called me beautiful kind of jacked me up. But I will say this - I am sure that I will marry a man who I can confidently call good. And that will probably be one of the best compliments I would ever be able to give.
I don't know why this is important to say now. Perhaps I'm reflecting on the good of the last few years as I'm preparing to pack up and move out to the new frontier. But this past weekend especially has made me really reflect on the good men I have been blessed to know.
I guess I just wanted to say thank you to the men who have so impacted my life in the past few years. These men who have made me feel beautiful; who have challenged me to be better physically, socially, spiritually, and academically; who have made me laugh until I cried; who have challenged (and beat) me in Disney Scene It; who have made me a part of their group of friends; who have opened their hearts to me; who have participated in my silliness; who are smarter than me and remind me often to keep me humble and grounded; who have held me while I nap after a long day of work; who have always volunteered a Disney movie option; who play me in racquetball and don't let me win (and get really mad when I do!); who play Disneyopoly and various board/card games whenever I ask; who always plan the perfect date; who have never let me get away with being negative about myself; and who have not been deterred by my sarcasm but have met it head on with equally excellent wit :)
These are the good men who have taught me about becoming a good woman and for that I will always be grateful.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
I spend a lot of time trying to prove people wrong about me. Generally when someone tells me I can't do something, it means I will dedicate my life to making them regret doubting me. I think it's the way my competitive spirit kicked in. I was too annoyed by high school sports to get into them, so instead I just get even with the nay-sayers of the world.
I am definitely not the smartest person I know. I didn't graduate number one in my high school class, and I truly didn't do that great in the college realm. I feel like a lot of my objective results in life have been about average. However, somehow I got into medical school...I convinced someone somewhere along the line to have enough faith in me to bring me into the fold. Now, in about 6 weeks, I'll be graduating on time from medical school and will be preparing to start residency.
What blows my mind is that I still struggle regularly with the thought that whatever I do doesn't measure up. It's a frustration I can't fully express to the entire internet community, but I have never felt like enough in any capacity.
And not because I wasn't surrounded by the most loving and engaged family of all time, because I was. And I think that may be where the issue began. It's taken me soooooo long to finally make something of my life that I feel like everyone else passed me up along the way. I have these brothers and cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents who are living their lives to the fullest in every capacity. They are beautiful inside and out and they have pursued their passions from the beginning.
I have struggled with finding meaning in the mundane. I've been trying to be reminded of the individual gifts and talents that God has blessed each of us with, but I just have such a hard time really focusing in on it. Maybe I've just let satan have a hold of this part of my heart for so long that it's become much easier to hear the constant ridicule inside my own head. I missing a peace that should make me feel whole and I'm sure it's because I'm simply not taking it into my own grasp.
I dream of being exceptional...but I worry that I will never see myself as more than an ordinary girl who lucked onto a series of fortunate circumstances. It's hard to find pride in your work when you don't see it as fruits of your own labor.
I have a lot of soul work to go, it seems.
I am definitely not the smartest person I know. I didn't graduate number one in my high school class, and I truly didn't do that great in the college realm. I feel like a lot of my objective results in life have been about average. However, somehow I got into medical school...I convinced someone somewhere along the line to have enough faith in me to bring me into the fold. Now, in about 6 weeks, I'll be graduating on time from medical school and will be preparing to start residency.
What blows my mind is that I still struggle regularly with the thought that whatever I do doesn't measure up. It's a frustration I can't fully express to the entire internet community, but I have never felt like enough in any capacity.
And not because I wasn't surrounded by the most loving and engaged family of all time, because I was. And I think that may be where the issue began. It's taken me soooooo long to finally make something of my life that I feel like everyone else passed me up along the way. I have these brothers and cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents who are living their lives to the fullest in every capacity. They are beautiful inside and out and they have pursued their passions from the beginning.
I have struggled with finding meaning in the mundane. I've been trying to be reminded of the individual gifts and talents that God has blessed each of us with, but I just have such a hard time really focusing in on it. Maybe I've just let satan have a hold of this part of my heart for so long that it's become much easier to hear the constant ridicule inside my own head. I missing a peace that should make me feel whole and I'm sure it's because I'm simply not taking it into my own grasp.
I dream of being exceptional...but I worry that I will never see myself as more than an ordinary girl who lucked onto a series of fortunate circumstances. It's hard to find pride in your work when you don't see it as fruits of your own labor.
I have a lot of soul work to go, it seems.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
A change in the plan?
http://www.smbs.buffalo.edu/RESIDENT/CareerCounseling/interior.htm?self-assessment.htm
Suddenly my results are showing critical care...which is what I've been starting to lean towards. All this planning for a possible change in plans...
Suddenly my results are showing critical care...which is what I've been starting to lean towards. All this planning for a possible change in plans...
Saturday, March 12, 2011
In Memory...
I started off by writing this huge post about my incredible family. I decided to save it for next time and for today focus on my grandpa.
My grandpa, David Etzel, passed away a year ago. He was diagnosed with transitional cell carcinoma on his kidney in the fall of 2009. He underwent a nephrectomy at that time and did really well. He was never on chemotherapy and never had to receive any radiation. He did amazingly well and recovered quickly. By Christmas of 2009, he was back to his old self...mostly.
The entire Etzel clan got together in Wisconsin for Christmas that year. It will likely go down as one of the greatest Christmas get-togethers of all time for our lovely little family. I was going through a dark time in my own little life and I spent a lot of that Christmas really struggling with this loneliness that was starting to consume me. Middle had been recently engaged, Christian was dating "the one" and I had just had a very public fight with a guy I had loved for a long time that ended with me incredibly embarrassed and alone. Christmas was really rough for me that year.
I remember sitting at the kitchen table looking out at the snow and grandpa came up to me. He gave me this Iowa Hawkeyes keychain and told me it had been given to him by an old friend when he was going through his surgery. He said he had kept it with him through his time in the hospital and that it had served its purpose for him. He gave it to me and told me to keep it with me as my own reminder of how much he loved me. He said since it had worked so well for him that he hoped it would help me get everything I wanted out of life.
I remember grandma kept telling me grandpa was having back pain and she would ask me if the cancer was coming back. I told her we couldn't live our lives in fear of his cancer coming back and that his pain may just be from sleeping in a new bed since he hadn't had any before Christmas.
Two months later my mom called me to tell me that grandpa's cancer had, in fact, come back. He had metastatic disease to his vertebrae and they found it because his back pain had become unbearable. Things went downhill from there. I had several gracious attendings in Febuary and March who allowed me to spend a lot of time in Iowa and let me make up the time I missed on the weekends later on. Grandpa could not withstand the MRI to diagnose the extent of his metastasis, and I can't remember why but we were really struggling with palliative radiation for the larger mets in his mid back. The last few weeks with grandpa are really a blur now. We spent a lot of time in the hospital with him and at home with him. We did everything we could to make him comfortable but our efforts with futile.
Grandpa passed away March 10, 2010 in this beautiful hospice facility...his children and wife were with him as he took his final breath. He passed peacefully and we were all grateful that his pain had subsided. Christian was in Mexico for a missions trip and I remember having to call him to tell him. I was so glad to know he was with people who would comfort him even while he was so far away.
We've talked about it since then and we think he knew that the cancer had come back over that Christmas. We're all so grateful to have such a beautiful memory together dancing and singing together. I'm grateful we didn't know at that time so that we could just enjoy one last perfect moment together.
I still carry that keychain with me everywhere I go. It has gone with me to multiple board exams. I have had it in my suit pocket on every residency interview. It is in whatever purse I have with me at any time. I still go looking for it anytime I need the reminder of a grandpa who believed in me.
My cousin Megan and I always used to joke about how we are screwed and will likely never find anyone to marry who even remotely measures up to the men in our family. It's true, though. They don't make them like Grandpa anymore. He has been such a beautiful example of strength, leadership, love, faith and family. I still cannot believe that a year has gone by, but the memories of grandpa will last a lifetime and it is my prayer that his legacy lives on in each of his grandchildren.
You can read more about the life my grandpa lived at his memory page here
My grandpa, David Etzel, passed away a year ago. He was diagnosed with transitional cell carcinoma on his kidney in the fall of 2009. He underwent a nephrectomy at that time and did really well. He was never on chemotherapy and never had to receive any radiation. He did amazingly well and recovered quickly. By Christmas of 2009, he was back to his old self...mostly.
The entire Etzel clan got together in Wisconsin for Christmas that year. It will likely go down as one of the greatest Christmas get-togethers of all time for our lovely little family. I was going through a dark time in my own little life and I spent a lot of that Christmas really struggling with this loneliness that was starting to consume me. Middle had been recently engaged, Christian was dating "the one" and I had just had a very public fight with a guy I had loved for a long time that ended with me incredibly embarrassed and alone. Christmas was really rough for me that year.
I remember sitting at the kitchen table looking out at the snow and grandpa came up to me. He gave me this Iowa Hawkeyes keychain and told me it had been given to him by an old friend when he was going through his surgery. He said he had kept it with him through his time in the hospital and that it had served its purpose for him. He gave it to me and told me to keep it with me as my own reminder of how much he loved me. He said since it had worked so well for him that he hoped it would help me get everything I wanted out of life.
We've talked about it since then and we think he knew that the cancer had come back over that Christmas. We're all so grateful to have such a beautiful memory together dancing and singing together. I'm grateful we didn't know at that time so that we could just enjoy one last perfect moment together.
I still carry that keychain with me everywhere I go. It has gone with me to multiple board exams. I have had it in my suit pocket on every residency interview. It is in whatever purse I have with me at any time. I still go looking for it anytime I need the reminder of a grandpa who believed in me.
My cousin Megan and I always used to joke about how we are screwed and will likely never find anyone to marry who even remotely measures up to the men in our family. It's true, though. They don't make them like Grandpa anymore. He has been such a beautiful example of strength, leadership, love, faith and family. I still cannot believe that a year has gone by, but the memories of grandpa will last a lifetime and it is my prayer that his legacy lives on in each of his grandchildren.
You can read more about the life my grandpa lived at his memory page here
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Pressing on Toward the Goal...
I have recently successfully completed my cardiology rotation. It. was. AWESOME! Not only did I get taught the ins and outs of atrial fibrillation, which was pretty much what I was hoping to learn, but I'm now much better at EKG readings, cardiomyopathies, risk factor stratification, AND looking at echos.
However, I think what this month really taught me was a confidence I have been lacking. My attending taught me how to stick a needle into someone's femoral artery. I know it seems silly and is probably something that really anyone could figure out...but as much as I brag about putting tubes in tubes, I have really struggled with finding confidence in my procedures. I've seen, at this point, about every procedure that could ever be done, but I haven't had many opportunities to actually do them. This month, that all changed.
And on top of that, I was actually pretty good at finding the artery, sticking a needle in it and then using guidewires and dilators to work my way up to a larger bore so that we could actually do the heart cath. I mean, that's pretty awesome.
The cardiologist kept teasing me about wanting to do heme/onc because cardiology has better toys. This is true. Maybe I'll find some happy medium ultimately, but for now my ears are still perking up at the sound of "unknown etiology of anemia" or "platelet count of 25,000" or "bone lytic lesion of the hip in a 25 year old". So probably until I can turn that part of my brain off, I'm heading in the right direction.
It's weird, I'm starting to really feel like this is happening. All of the hard work is about to pay off. My graduation garb is camping out in my living room, my graduation announcements (for the most part) have been sent out, I'm asking for boxes from random people I work with, I'm working on finding a place to live with my Rascal for at least the next year, and trying to get all of the paperwork done and in.
This is it. I'm about to be responsible for my medical decision making. Soon, I can actually write orders that someone will listen to. I have about a million books sitting here to read between now and July and I'm freaking out about everything I still feel like I don't know. But every day is a new step towards the goal.
At the end of the day...I still love going to work everyday. I'm so ding-dang excited for all of the new again. And as crazy sad as I am to leave this place that has really been the first place that's felt like home for me, I cannot wait for everything that lies ahead.
"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."Phillipians 3:12-14
For all the straining and pressing, there's more to be done. It's just nice to sit back in the peace of knowing that all of this is for a purpose greater than me. And to be used in such a way that my heart is full day in and day out is a blessing I could have never dreamed I would have. I have had a bad habit of getting caught up in the work and losing sight of the goal. I'm hoping to get better at that soon.
I'M GOING TO BE A DOCTOR!!!! :)
However, I think what this month really taught me was a confidence I have been lacking. My attending taught me how to stick a needle into someone's femoral artery. I know it seems silly and is probably something that really anyone could figure out...but as much as I brag about putting tubes in tubes, I have really struggled with finding confidence in my procedures. I've seen, at this point, about every procedure that could ever be done, but I haven't had many opportunities to actually do them. This month, that all changed.
And on top of that, I was actually pretty good at finding the artery, sticking a needle in it and then using guidewires and dilators to work my way up to a larger bore so that we could actually do the heart cath. I mean, that's pretty awesome.
The cardiologist kept teasing me about wanting to do heme/onc because cardiology has better toys. This is true. Maybe I'll find some happy medium ultimately, but for now my ears are still perking up at the sound of "unknown etiology of anemia" or "platelet count of 25,000" or "bone lytic lesion of the hip in a 25 year old". So probably until I can turn that part of my brain off, I'm heading in the right direction.
It's weird, I'm starting to really feel like this is happening. All of the hard work is about to pay off. My graduation garb is camping out in my living room, my graduation announcements (for the most part) have been sent out, I'm asking for boxes from random people I work with, I'm working on finding a place to live with my Rascal for at least the next year, and trying to get all of the paperwork done and in.
This is it. I'm about to be responsible for my medical decision making. Soon, I can actually write orders that someone will listen to. I have about a million books sitting here to read between now and July and I'm freaking out about everything I still feel like I don't know. But every day is a new step towards the goal.
At the end of the day...I still love going to work everyday. I'm so ding-dang excited for all of the new again. And as crazy sad as I am to leave this place that has really been the first place that's felt like home for me, I cannot wait for everything that lies ahead.
"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."Phillipians 3:12-14
For all the straining and pressing, there's more to be done. It's just nice to sit back in the peace of knowing that all of this is for a purpose greater than me. And to be used in such a way that my heart is full day in and day out is a blessing I could have never dreamed I would have. I have had a bad habit of getting caught up in the work and losing sight of the goal. I'm hoping to get better at that soon.
I'M GOING TO BE A DOCTOR!!!! :)
Saturday, February 5, 2011
The Magic
I believe in magic.
In fact, I always have. As long as I can remember, I have always had this ability to find magic in the world around me. Whether it's Disney magic, or Jesus magic, or love magic...it's always been something I hold onto. I feel like it makes the world more beautiful.
I love that song Firework by Katy Perry. I think it's a beautiful message of hope and self confidence. I think a song that encourages people to look inside themselves and find that magic firework is a great song to be in the top hits for sure.
That said, I think I'm struggling to find that magical spark in myself again. I don't know if it's just been replaced with a more jaded and sensible me....or if I'm just waiting to be surprised by the magic again. Either way, I was recently told by someone I had just met that he thought I was going to be "mean". He then proceeded to say he thought I was probably a "half-empty" person while he himself, of course, was half-full.
WHAT?! Half-empty?!! The only people who have ever said that about me are like...my parents when they're mad at me for PMSing. But a person who meets me one night and strikes up a conversation where I probably harassed him a little more than necessary thinks I'm mean?! This is something that has never been said about me before. I am not a mean person. I am a magic-lover! And magic-lovers by definition cannot be mean.
Apparently I have let the crazy of my life affect me in such a way that I've lost the ability to be open and magic-filled with new people. I've developed this guardedness that I've never had in the past. I'm afraid of letting people in because I'm so tired of hurting...I'm so tired of being that girl who let's herself get hurt over and over again. I have never been so guarded that hanging out with a new boy becomes a process of having to make-up for my apparent "meanness" from our first meeting.
I need to work on this jadedness I've developed. I don't want my past to so cloud who I am that people can't see my love for magic when they meet me. I want to be able to believe in the magic of falling in love again. I want to believe that my heart can be restored to it's original openness.
I know we're told to "guard our hearts" and whatever other stuff the Christian literature is feeding young women these days...but I still feel like there's something to be said for living with a heart so open that you feel every crushing blow. If you can keep it from scarring over and becoming hard and jaded, I truly believe you can make magic with a heart like that.
And that's what I want. To be restored to a heart that loves freely and fully...that still believes in the magic...
In fact, I always have. As long as I can remember, I have always had this ability to find magic in the world around me. Whether it's Disney magic, or Jesus magic, or love magic...it's always been something I hold onto. I feel like it makes the world more beautiful.
I love that song Firework by Katy Perry. I think it's a beautiful message of hope and self confidence. I think a song that encourages people to look inside themselves and find that magic firework is a great song to be in the top hits for sure.
That said, I think I'm struggling to find that magical spark in myself again. I don't know if it's just been replaced with a more jaded and sensible me....or if I'm just waiting to be surprised by the magic again. Either way, I was recently told by someone I had just met that he thought I was going to be "mean". He then proceeded to say he thought I was probably a "half-empty" person while he himself, of course, was half-full.
WHAT?! Half-empty?!! The only people who have ever said that about me are like...my parents when they're mad at me for PMSing. But a person who meets me one night and strikes up a conversation where I probably harassed him a little more than necessary thinks I'm mean?! This is something that has never been said about me before. I am not a mean person. I am a magic-lover! And magic-lovers by definition cannot be mean.
Apparently I have let the crazy of my life affect me in such a way that I've lost the ability to be open and magic-filled with new people. I've developed this guardedness that I've never had in the past. I'm afraid of letting people in because I'm so tired of hurting...I'm so tired of being that girl who let's herself get hurt over and over again. I have never been so guarded that hanging out with a new boy becomes a process of having to make-up for my apparent "meanness" from our first meeting.
I need to work on this jadedness I've developed. I don't want my past to so cloud who I am that people can't see my love for magic when they meet me. I want to be able to believe in the magic of falling in love again. I want to believe that my heart can be restored to it's original openness.
I know we're told to "guard our hearts" and whatever other stuff the Christian literature is feeding young women these days...but I still feel like there's something to be said for living with a heart so open that you feel every crushing blow. If you can keep it from scarring over and becoming hard and jaded, I truly believe you can make magic with a heart like that.
And that's what I want. To be restored to a heart that loves freely and fully...that still believes in the magic...
Monday, January 24, 2011
Chaos
Anyone who has spent any amount of time in a place I am dwelling knows that I am no stranger to chaos. In fact, chaos and I have spent a lot of very sweet and intimate moments together in the past. We've been good friends who have lived together for many years and we generally get along dandy.
And then something happens. I never know what causes it, but I go into manic mode. I was like this even as a teenager...I would get so stressed out about something that my only option was the clean. I would painstakingly organize the most minute details of something until I crashed asleep on the floor or fell prey to the tears that I was probably holding back.
Today I hit manic mode. I actually think I've been ramping up to this mode with my crazy Jillian routine and insistence on not blowing out a knee in the near future, but today it came on full blown. I can no longer pretend to be content in the chaos of my life. And not just the physical chaos of my house, which has become horrendous and will get worse before it gets better as I move the rest of my stuff back in this week, but the chaos of my heart and my mind.
I am a fake open person. I am more than happy to share the gorey details of my lovelife with just about anyone who will listen. I think mostly because it's something to share that I don't find off-limits. Plus, the stories are so great that really people want to be friends with me at the end of it :)
There's just a lot of things that I think and I feel that I don't think I would ever be willing to say outloud. Not scary things, just things about myself and about life and about people. And I notice when I hit these times in my life where I really have to make a decision to be happy that I don't really make the decision to be happy. I really just make a decision to be. I throw myself into mind-numbing exercise, I come home from a friend's house at 11 pm and insist on immediately taking out the trash, scrubbing the stovetop, doing dishes, and sweeping the kitchen floor. I would rather deal with my emotional chaos by taking it out on the chaos I can touch and watch become organized.
And so I continue on in my personal chaos with a much cleaner kitchen until something comes along that so shakes me to my core it helps me reorganize my life again.
...because clearly the problem is that, while I may be fed up with the chaos of my heart...I am not ready to be done with it.
And then something happens. I never know what causes it, but I go into manic mode. I was like this even as a teenager...I would get so stressed out about something that my only option was the clean. I would painstakingly organize the most minute details of something until I crashed asleep on the floor or fell prey to the tears that I was probably holding back.
Today I hit manic mode. I actually think I've been ramping up to this mode with my crazy Jillian routine and insistence on not blowing out a knee in the near future, but today it came on full blown. I can no longer pretend to be content in the chaos of my life. And not just the physical chaos of my house, which has become horrendous and will get worse before it gets better as I move the rest of my stuff back in this week, but the chaos of my heart and my mind.
I am a fake open person. I am more than happy to share the gorey details of my lovelife with just about anyone who will listen. I think mostly because it's something to share that I don't find off-limits. Plus, the stories are so great that really people want to be friends with me at the end of it :)
There's just a lot of things that I think and I feel that I don't think I would ever be willing to say outloud. Not scary things, just things about myself and about life and about people. And I notice when I hit these times in my life where I really have to make a decision to be happy that I don't really make the decision to be happy. I really just make a decision to be. I throw myself into mind-numbing exercise, I come home from a friend's house at 11 pm and insist on immediately taking out the trash, scrubbing the stovetop, doing dishes, and sweeping the kitchen floor. I would rather deal with my emotional chaos by taking it out on the chaos I can touch and watch become organized.
And so I continue on in my personal chaos with a much cleaner kitchen until something comes along that so shakes me to my core it helps me reorganize my life again.
...because clearly the problem is that, while I may be fed up with the chaos of my heart...I am not ready to be done with it.
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