Restlessness and Need for Peace

God knows what we need, just when we need it.

I stumbled upon this prayer this morning.  A morning when, like so many other days in my past, I wanted to talk with Him, pour out my soul.  But the words wouldn't come.

And yet He knows.  HE always knows the words.  Long before I even speak them.
And He knows what I need, even before I do.  And yet He patiently waits ... waits for as long as it takes ... for me to acknowledge this to Him.

Oh Lord, sometimes my insides feel like a battle zone, where missiles are falling too close to home. Other times I'm caught in an endless storm, with thoughts flying out of control. Confusion reigns, and defeat creeps in to steal my joy.  I need your peace—the deep-down-in-your-heart kind that stays with me day and night and speaks confidently into the wind. Calm my anxious spirit, Lord; all the attacking "if-onlys" and "what-ifs" fill me with needless worry.

I know that trust is a big part of experiencing peace and that fear has no place in my life. Most of the things I worry about or dread don't even happen. So I'm declaring my trust in you. I'm releasing the reins of my life again and asking you to take control. 

I may need to pray this same prayer daily, but I'm tired of the frenzy of life that leaves my schedule and my thoughts without any margin. I need more of you, Lord, and less of me.

Suspended

2019.  I knew it would be non-stop.  And it has been.

The busyness began in April -- a trip to Watertown, New York.  

My son and daughter-in-law were living there -- WERE -- temporarily.  She's a travel nurse at the present time, while he works towards finishing his master's in archaeology at Binghamton University.  He finally found his passion.   Let the man dig!  

He just returned from his second field dig in South Africa.  Somehow Google knows I now have an interest in archaeology.  I get articles now on my news feeds of all the latest discoveries in the field.  No secrets anymore, I guess.  We can run but we can't hide or something like that.

Fast-forward to the present -- living in an apartment complex.  

Suspended somewhere between then -- a big house in suburbia -- to a third-floor apartment that I've worked at making "homey" while we're here.  And we'll be here until -- well, that's undetermined.  So.  Yeah.  Living suspended.  

But for now, I suppose this is home-away-from-home.  

The lake house is now our HOME.

It's a cool little place.  Quiet.  Beautiful view of a country hillside behind the complex.  Awesome sunset views.  Lovely, intoxicating sunsets.  

Oh, and the third floor is great for privacy.  A pain for early-morning dog walks  -- yep

or hauling in groceries..-- DEFINITELY.

And nope, no elevator!   

Yeah, well, I think of it as just another chance to exercise.  

God knows I need it.  

And besides.  I'm pretty sure third floor is too high for mosquitoes.  

Mosquitoes are afraid of heights.  Right?  

"So it seems," she grinned with delight.  

 It's all good.

 
 

My tiny little balcony is cozy and candle-lit, bordered with plants and flowers and comfy things.  I must have access to the outdoors.  The little balcony is an extension of my living space.

I listen to the quiet, punctuated with tenants coming and going, my Billie Holiday playing softly in the background.  I wonder if they've figured out that I'm an old soul...a jazz lover.  People seem friendly here.  It's a colony of dog-lovers.  Chessie seems to have adapted just fine.    

Me?  I'm still waiting to "settle in" to this chapter.  

But how does one settle into a state of suspension?  

Hello? Anybody home?

I haven't looked to see when I last posted here. 

I know it's been several months.  A year?  Nah.  Not that long.  Surely not. 

What matters is that I bring it back, this thing called purging of the soul.  What did Hemingway say?  "There is nothing to writing.  All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."

I came to bleed.  Bleed my thoughts, my blessings, my fears, my memories, my dreams, my life as I know it now.  Pieces.  Bits and pieces at a time until I find my rhythm again.  To try to catch up where I left off in one -- even a few, or a handful of posts --  is far too overwhelming. 

A day at a time. 
A dream at a time
A word at a time. 
While I find my way back home to my heart's whispers.

Hello.  I'm home!

Tranquil Waters

I'm so excited to have spent my first full week at the lake house since ... since I don't even know when.  Probably last fall sometime.  My life has just been way too busy.  How I needed solace.  Solace that only my lake house can provide.

Many projects have been accomplished:

• Planted grass seed just off the patio in the bare spots -- we have CLAY MUD here, not real dirt, and it gets tracked all over everything!
• All winter florals and decor packed away and stored in the attic -- with our new drop-down ladder that my husband installed on his last trip -- yay --and new spring florals added, a new spring wreath for the front door, and general spring cleaning throughout the house
• A newly installed brick wall for my sunroom.  It is magnificently authentic looking!
• Faithful daily cardio
• A repurposed sign -- an arm/hand/finger pointing, that used to say, "The Good Stuff's in Here," hung over the pantry, and now says very simply "LAKE," hung on the patio, pointing to the lake, obviously.  It's perfect.  
• I've helped my neighbor dry-brush her patio screen from stark, pukey-white to driftwoodish-looking, with the white peeping through.   Huge improvement.

I've probably left a few things out.  I've enjoyed quiet time each morning with coffee, prayer, and devotions -- the perfect and ONLY way to start the day.  I've spent afternoon patio time with my silly neighbor who I adore and am blessed to have as a friend.  I've thrifted once.  I shopped a few times locally, finding a perfect little wooden stand with iron accents for my master bath.  I've read books, magazines, and listened pretty much non-stop to music.  My newly -found favorite from YouTube GUITAR del Mar Vol. 2 Balearic Cafe Island Lounge -- the perfect background "escape" music.

Life is better at the lake.  I want this to be my permanent home.  I can't wait until we can make that happen.

All Work and No Play

WE ALL NEED

EMPTY HOURS 

IN OUR LIVES

OR WE

WILL HAVE NO TIME

TO CREATE

OR DREAM.

- robert coles

Where are my anticipated days of leisure?  I wasn't counting on staying this busy as a freelance court reporter, after leaving the courtroom.  There's good and bad to freelance.  I've heard that all my life.  Now I'm living it.  

Yes, I have flexibility -- well, sort of.  Flexibility in that I don't have to get dressed up Monday through Friday , watch the clock eight hours a day, or fight the 5 o'clock commute of idiots five days a week.  (By the way, I came very close to getting run over by one of those idiots while crossing the street today -- like WAY TOO CLOSE.  Scared the CRAP out of me!)   Yeah, I only have to dress up once -- or twice, well, maybe three days a week, and fight those idiots one to three days out of the five.  And, yes, I have flexibility and luxury of picking and choosing days that I am not available to cover assignments -- well, sort of.  As a valued reporter of a busy freelance firm (I'm not bragging, really, I'm not), they somehow end up talking me into taking more cases than is ideal.  What, I'm a yes-girl, can't stand my ground and say no shamelessly?  I suppose.  

The good news:  It's great job security.  The bad news:  I have SO.VERY.LITTLE.DOWN.TIME.  All work and no play makes T a very dull woman.  

Very, very, very dull.

Dull = no fun.  

Dull = no time to sit and do nothing without guilt.  

Dull = lack of spontaneity.

Dull = No time to blog anymore.  How I miss the purge of soul.  

Life is pretty darn hectic these days.  And this year especially.  Lots of awesome things to look forward to though!  YES!  

So I'll not complain (too much) about being so busy at work, knowing that the income will come in handy for these upcoming events.

My most recent trip to my Happy Place, aka The Lake House, I was working on transcripts practically the entire time.  Certainly not an ideal visit.  But sitting on the sofa one evening in front of the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket, listening to the pouring cold rain outside the window (will it ever stop raining for more than one day?) while I proofread a transcript from my laptop proved to be my favorite part of my time there.  Blissfully peaceful.  Would I rather have been reading a novel?  Yes.  Watching a movie?  Yes.  Any number of other things that I do used to do in leisure?  Yes.

But it's okay.  I will take this chapter of my life one day at a time.  

I'm blessed that I have an opportunity to work at a job that I enjoy and actually earn a decent income in this day and age.

The empty hours I long for will some day be more than enough.  

It always works out.  Always.

Coming to My Senses

What I'm reading...

What I'm smelling...(it's insanely seductive)

What I'm drinking...

High on this thing called 

autumn.

Intense Exercise Reduces Appetite -- Check

Women's Health Magazine - Robin Hilmantel, July 12 2013

High-intensity exercise may actually decrease food cravings, according to new research published in the International Journal of Obesity.

For the study, researchers from The University of Western Australia had 17 male participants rotate through four groups: one that didn’t work out at all, one that worked out at a moderate intensity for 30 minutes, one that did an interval workout for 30 minutes, and one that did a more intense interval workout for 30 minutes. While doing any type of workout decreased the number of calories participants ate later during a test meal, the biggest difference was between the most vigorous interval workout (participants ate 594 calories on average after that) and the group that didn’t work out at all (which ate 764 calories). What’s more, participants took in fewer calories for more than 24 hours following the most intense workouts, says study author Aaron Sim, a PhD candidate at the School of Sport Science, Exercise and Health at The University of Western Australia.
Researchers aren’t sure why particularly tough sweat sessions might decrease your appetite—even long after you leave the gym—but it may have something to do with the fact that, after the most intense workouts, participants had lower levels of ghrelin, a hormone that stimulates appetite. The study also linked super-hard routines to higher levels of blood lactate and blood glucose, both of which make you feel hungry when they’re too low.

I'm pretty sure -- no, I AM sure -- that I knew this already from long ago (six, seven, eight years ago...?) that intense exercise reduces appetite, and, dare I say, cravings.  As for the cravings, at least it seems to work that way for me.

These first couple weeks of the new year, I've been crazy busy with work, leaving little time for exercise.  Add to that these frigid cold temps, that even if I COULD squeeze in the 30-40 min window for getting my butt to the gym, I've been talking myself out of it with the argument: 

          "Seriously?  You REALLY want to get all bundled up and go out in these stinging frigid temps?  Expose your already-dry skin to that biting air?  Worry with all those layers?  Can't you just wait and do it tomorrow?"

And yes, with each day that passes, I find myself getting sluggier and sluggier.  (Spellcheck doesn't like that word.  That's too bad.  It's exactly the word I'm looking for -- it's MY new word.)  And, add to that, hungrier and hungrier.  At least I've convinced myself that I'm hungrier.  I wake up hungrier, my inner Hungry Clock goes off more often now.  Lots more grazing.  And increasingly sluggier.

Today I was determined to go to the gym.  I had only made it there once last week.  Sad.  Very sad.

Enough.  No excuses today.  I get layered up.  Grab my Kindle (to get through the cardio), water bottle, and gym bag, and head out to scrape my windshield.  And off I go.  Not liking it a bit, wondering why I'm doing this when I could be inside in a warm house with a cup of coffee, proofreading. 

Upon returning, galvanized and on top of the world -- as usual -- I made myself a protein shake -- oh, and by the way, I've discovered a new concoction.  It's a mixture of one part Vanilla Trutein and one part Mocha Trutein.  Oh, yes.  PERFECTION.  But I digress.  So yep, made the shake and grabbed a half cup of blueberries.  And from the minute I began making the shake, it became painfully obvious to me, I didn't feel at all hungry.  I'd only had about 250 cals with coffee for breakfast around 8 a.m. this morning while proofreading transcripts, and it was then 12:30 p.m.  Not at all hungry.

If this were yesterday, I would have already had 500 cals or more (way more?) down, and would have continued with the mindless grazing.

I remain convinced.  Intense exercise really does lower your appetite. 

That settles it.  Again!  I really must get myself to the gym more often.  Hell or high water ... or snow ... or frigid temps.

Just go, T.  And you'll reap the endless rewards!!!