What's Worth Living For

 I started this post a few months ago, right after the tragic Tucson, Arizona shootings.  

There are not many things that I am certain of for my future.  I don't know what it holds.  I have a skeleton of an idea of what I'd like to do and see, but ultimately I'm taking life as it comes.  One thing I've felt for a while now, almost for certain, is that I want children of my own someday.  Not every woman wants children; I have a friend who turns the other way when a bouncing gurgling baby is in the vicinity and another friend who would melt on the spot.  I'm somewhere in between, but closer to the typical mushy what-a-cute-baby type. 

I grew up in the heartland of the United States.  We were a family with two children, a dog, and a white ranch house.  My brother and I had everything we needed (and more), but I wouldn't say we were ever conceited.  I knew that bad things happened to people but I guess there was always a safe barrier, if you will, between me and them.  The people were always in a different part of the world or a different time.  I was always safe.  Then I grew up.

I don't know if this is a sign of the times, but I'm just shy of my twenty-first birthday and I've taken pause at just how frail our lives are.  The sad events of (what's now two months ago in) Tucson Arizona have me thinking.  Thinking about what kind of world I live in.  And about the world my own children will live in someday.

I find myself thinking about the life I want for my family someday.  I want to live out in the country a bit, with plenty of land to roam.  I want sweet, simple things for my children.  I want them to grow up enriched with the beauty of nature and a loving family around them.  I don't want them to have everything, but rather I want them to have more than they need.  I want them to be happy.  I want them to live long lives. 

I want a lot of the things parents like Christina Taylor Green's parents wanted for their daughter.  It's been months, as I mentioned, since the attacks in Arizona and I still feel a sense of grief for Christina's parents.  Tears come to my eyes when I recall the interview with them, when her mother described the phone call.  She immediately thought it was a car accident.  What mother expects to send her third grader to a political meeting at a local grocery store and then hear that she was shot and killed?  

Life seems so fragile.

I think about the dreams we have for our lives and for our children, and how they can be so quickly marred by grief and terror.  I think about all the things that claim people's lives, from cancer to car accidents, to natural disasters and terrorism.  And the threats are everywhere.  They're in India, Uganda, Serbia, and Guatemala.  They're in the United States, too. 


I wonder if other people my age who've known they want kids some day have been so taken aback by such horrific acts of violence that they consider not having children after all.  I have.  I think about the grief of Christina's parents.  And the grief of countless others who've seen the hopes and dreams for their children come crashing down with the smoke of a gun or the invasive cells of cancer.  And I wonder again what's worth living for. 

My simple answer is love.  It might sound cliche, but that's what I come back to again and again and I have no other way to put it.  Christina Taylor Green's parents never once said they regretted having Christina, rather they expressed that while she had a tragic beginning (she was born 9/11/01) and end to her life, the years in between were beautiful and full of love. 

One of my assorted oddities is how much movie quotes can move me.  I quote movies often, in my writing and in everyday jargon.  I have this thought on my mind about what's worth living for and a beautiful, heartfelt quote comes to my mind from Where the Heart Is (2000).  I thought I'd end on this inspiring note. 

"You tell them that our lives can change with every breath we take... and tell 'em to hold on like hell to what they've got...we've all got meanness in us, but we've got goodness too. And the only thing worth living for is the good. And that's why we've got to make sure we pass it on."

Rest in peace, Christina Taylor Green September 11, 2001 - January 8, 2011

Sincerely,

RF

Give Thanks

There are three weeks (and counting) to the big day.  That is, the day of turkey and the fancy china and relatives from out of state.

Thanksgiving marks the onset of the "holiday season."  Yes, it's that time of year again.  For many people, this means there are two more weeks to mentally (and physically) prepare.  There will be list making and attic searching.  Budget crunching and the perfect tree to locate.  Leaves to rake and vacation (or stay-cation as the case may be) plans to make.  Santas will take up residence at malls nationwide. Sign-ups for Salvation Army bell ringing will crop up and those jingling bells even more so.  Charities will come out of the woodwork.  If you're ambitious, there's the family newsletter/holiday greeting card.  Holiday music will filter through the radio in the car, at the grocery, in the elevator at the doctor's office.  Weight may be a concern and the threat of overeating exacerbates that.  Oreo icing will turn to red (speaking of overeating).  In the hustle and bustle of preparing for the looming holiday season it's very easy to forget the small things.

I'll be the first to admit that I don't need the excuse of the holiday season to distract me.  It's so easy to become engrossed in the day to day and week to week craziness of life that we often forget to stay grounded in what really matters.

This idea motivated me to make a commitment beginning today until Thanksgiving.  Instead of worrying about the impending holiday season and the rush that comes with it, I want to spend more time thinking about what I'm thankful for and dedicating each day of the next two weeks to a different thing I'm thankful for.  It's the things we're truly thankful for, such as our family and friends, that truly give the holidays that sense of beauty and joy.

On a personal note, I've recognized that this holiday season might be a tad disheartening for my family.  After the rather unexpected loss of my dear Grandpa N, Christmas just isn't going to be the same again.  Those "firsts" without the ones we lose are often the hardest.  Throw in the rest of the amazing story that is my family dynamic and I can already see how I've got to make sure I keep myself grounded.  I think this is by and large the main reason why I've decided to really take this on, if nothing else but for my own emotional health.  I know I have so much to be thankful for, I'm very blessed in my life and it would be a shame for me to lose sight of that.

I'll go ahead and single out that incessant elephant in the room... We should really be thankful at all times for what we are blessed with, not just at special occasions.  The twice a year thankful heart doesn't make for a happy person, if you ask me.  No, I just really feel like I want to do this.  No implications attached.

With that being said, here's to giving thanks.  Here's to staying focused on what really matters.  Here's to being thankful for all the blessings that life has to offer.  They're the stuff that make life worth living.

Cheers!

Signed,
RF

What was that about pain and gain?

I hate running.  I hate running.  I freaking hate running.  Running is awful.  I hate it.  I hate it.  I hate it.


Ahem.


Okay, it's safe now.  The me from about thirty minutes ago was threatening my life if I didn't voice her pain. But she's gone now.  Crazy woman.  Granted, I'm now lounging in my super comfy bed in pjs with a stomach full of frosted mini wheats and bopping along to Bad Romance (don't judge me)...


I'm in the third week now of my running program.  It feels like it has been longer than that, but I have documented proof; I highlight each day as I get done.  I miss a day or two here and there, so that might account for some of the time confusion...  Oh well, I'm working on it.  That obnoxious running hating woman has slowly quieted down as the program as progressed, little by little.  Tonight was one of the more difficult days however and she made herself known.  I told her to shut up.  I can do this.


What I've noticed from the start is no matter how bad I feel while I'm running, give me a couple minutes to catch my breath and I love the way I feel.  It's the same way I feel after a rigorous karate class.  I love it.  I love it more than that other me hates running.  I love how I'm finally doing something that I always thought I couldn't.  Someday, I'm going to go back to my old middle school where I have (not so) fond memories of literally wheezing after running a half of one of the straight sides of the track.  I'm going to run a couple miles on that track just to tell that girl that she wasn't a loser.


I'm really excited to see where this whole reinvention process I've undergone is going to lead me.  I'm the kind of person who really loathes personal attention, I don't even like getting singled out at birthday parties.  I'm a no spotlight kind of gal but I must say, in my own way, I'm rather proud of myself for finally doing something about all the things about myself I didn't like.  That's all I'm going to say about that.  For a fun way to wrap things up for tonight, here's my current top 5 favorite running songs:


1.  Rawkfist by Thousand Foot Krutch


2.  Rebellion by Van Canto


3.  Watch Me Shine by Vanessa Carlton (cover)


4.  Headstrong by Trapt


5.  (most recently) Bad Romance by Lady GaGa


I still kind of loathe myself for liking that last song...but it's really catchy...and the music video I recently discovered (thank you Lakota!) is inspired by GaGa's views on Human Trafficking (hm, what's that? I've never read a single book or article or journal about that in my life... -_- ... do you get my joke? Because I've been buried in research... ahem... Not funny when you have to explain it... I digress).  In short, an unexpected turn of events leads me to accept my love for this song.  Hence the video.  Roll that beautiful bean footage!





RF

To blog or not to blog?

I realize that's the second botched Shakespeare reference I've made in almost as many blog posts. Or, at least it was when I drafted this. Sorry Willy, please don't hate me. Literature mangling aside, the quote does lend itself well to the question I've asked myself since deciding to start this blog: why?

I've always been a fan of writing, and I'm the sort of person who wears her heart on her sleeve, so why haven't I ever blogged "sucessfully" before? I.e. why have at least four previous blog attempts gone by the wayside under my various pseudonyms, none of them ever more than a background and title or in the case of one, one little post, before they each were deleted? Well, here are my top 5 reasons of why I never blogged before now.

Reason # 1: Bloggers in Pop Culture

I suspect neither of the following commercial and film conversations have helped my view on blogging:

Thanks Twix, though you are a scrumptious candy bar, you have made bloggers, particularly female ones, out to be complete idiots incapable of realizing that when a guy asks her back to his apartment five seconds into their first conversation his sudden "chew it over" moment and subsequent (lame) excuse is really a flimsy facade for "please have sex with me."

[[[[[[[Excerpt from the transcript of Made of Honor (2008)]]]]]]]

Tom: Oh, God. Hide me.

Hannah: What?

Tom: It's my dad's patient coordinator...

Yeah, don't look, don't look. Don't look.

No, no. She's obsessed with me.

Yeah, she's created a website called AllThingsTom.org.

Hannah: The psycho blogger?

Tom: Yes.

Okay, come on.

Dance with me. Watch yourself.

Hannah: I think she's cute.

Tom: Oh, stop it.

I'm serious. Just keep going. Here just-

Hide me…

Her last blog was a two-page description of my face.

Blogger: Hi, Tom.

Tom: Oh, hi.

Blogger: Did you see the new blog?

Tom: Uh, no, we haven’t.

Blogger: Who’s this?

Tom: This? Well, this is my… girlfriend.

Blogger: Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone?

Tom: Because I don’t know you.

Hannah: Look, we have a really really open relationship.

Tom: Really? You know, I wanted to talk to you about that, princess.

Blogger: Princess…?

Tom: (to Hannah) I-I-I don’t wanna be with anybody but you.

Hannah: I don’t know if I’m really quite ready to make that commitment. You know my rules

(to Blogger) We’re a bit of an emotional retard.

Tom: Yeah.

Blogger: I think I need to start a new blog now.

Hannah: (after Blogger has left) That is so scary.

[[[[[[]]]]]]]

I apologize for having no video clip to illustrate this, there wasn’t one to be found on youtube. (le gasp)

This is the second media source that immediately came to my mind that makes female bloggers (pattern? I wouldn't know, I nixed my communications major a year ago...) out to be complete idiots. The blogger in Made of Honor is of the desperate and pathetic variety of idiots. It doesn't help my feeling for this clip that the woman is literally wearing the exact dress I wore in a play my Senior year of high school.

Reason #2: That word!

I hate the words blog, blogger, and blogging. I really do. The word, stripped of its connotations and denotations still makes me cringe. Some words do that for me. Blog and it’s derivatives are some of them. You may consider this a flimsy reason for not blogging before. Alone it's not enough of one. In addition to my already formed stigma against blogging, it was another hair that broke the camel's back.

Reason # 3: People in glass houses shouldn't throw things, I wouldn't live in one in the first place.

My writing is often times a reflection of who I am. I put pieces of myself into it, like horcruxes only I don't kill people or split my soul to do it. If you haven't read Harry Potter, ignore that reference. As such, I've never been one to want the whole world to see inside me. While I do wear my heart on my sleeve, there's a difference between that and what inspires my writing--the writing often comes from much deeper down.

Reason #4: Themeless and therefore pointless?

My life has no particular theme, my sense of humor isn’t always one that draws a ton of laughs, I’m lazy and impatient in one messy bunch, and I lose focus fairly easily on things. In short, I never thought a blog of mine would be very interesting, nor did I think I would I be willing (or have the attention span) to keep it up.

Reason #5: I sat and tried to think of one. One flitted by but I forgot it before I had time to jot it down. I went back and adjusted some of the previous ones and still couldn't think of a number five. So that's only four reasons. Which leads me to...

"You know Thomas Edison tried and failed nearly two-thousand times to develop the carbonized cotton-thread filament for the incandescent light bulb. When asked about it, he said 'I didn't fail, I found two-thousand ways how not to make a light bulb.' But he only needed to find one way to make it work."

-National Treasure, 2004

What was the one way I found that changed my mind about blogging? It was actually a memory, a memory of something a very dear woman once told me.

It’s funny, how one can be reminded randomly of something most would consider minute or not worth remembering, particularly from one's childhood. I find that especially true if the memories involve a loved one who is no longer with us. I suppose we hang on to even the shreds of memories with them because that’s all we have left.

My Aunt D and I once talked about diaries. I said something to the effect that while I admired Anne Frank's diary, I don't have the patience to write one myself. All of my attempts usually ended with me tearing out the few entries and pitching them. Most usually ended with my selecting a pretty journal, buying it, bringing it home, then setting it aside to collect dust. I have a box of empty journals and notebooks solely from this habit to prove my point. Sound familiar? Well, my Aunt suggested that I start typing my daily diary entries. Mind you this was back in the day when blogging and any other form of social interaction/broadcasting via the internet was strictly limited to e-mail. But her suggestion was to type my diary and save the entries in a folder on the computer. The only problem with this was my family had a public computer which sat in my parent's room. The issue was twofold. One, it lacked the privacy I preferred when storing my entries and I didn't feel like keeping a floppy disk (yes, floppy disks were around). The second issue was timing, I was a night owl (still am, time check? It's 1:11 AM) and my parents weren't. At least not both of them. There was only a limited time during the day which I could even use the computer. So the suggestion, while highly appreciated, didn't come to fruition.

Side note: Pictured is my Aunt D with me around 2 years old. I suspect our diary conversation came a little later in life; this is the only picture I have with just her and me in it. Momma and I were going through some old family albums at my Gpa's recently and came across it. It brought tears to my eyes how happy we both look.

Anyways, at least ten years down the road now, I can't help but think that blogging is the more modern version of what my dear aunt was talking about: a place to write out whatever it is I want to write about, without hand writing it. Blogging seems to take that one step further by giving you the concept of a literary third wall. Instead of just talking to myself or "my dear diary," I can envision readers whom I am talking to. It's not as strange for me to involve the potential readers (however many) as it is for me to involve an inanimate diary in an animate activity, such as cooking.

What got my gears rolling was that post I made about the Strawberry Cream Pie. That was actually my first blog post I'd made in a long time and I made it originally for a friend of mine to feature it as a guest entry on her blog. By the time I'd finished it, I located this blog I'd made months prior and revamped it. The rest is history. Literally. It's in the archives.

Verdict: to blog! I just want a new word for it. Oh well.

Signed,

RF

To do: save the world

I know I said I wouldn't write a list, but I lied. I'm writing one anyways. I can't help it. I'm a compulsive list taker.

This is my list (as of now) of things I plan to include in my branching out/ reinventing the way I live process as I explained in my first post. If you're not bored to tears with that can of paint analogy, think of each bullet as a can. If you are, promptly erase that last sentence from your short term memory and move on.

1. Keep working on martial arts. I've been training in the Isshin-Ryu style for a year this August. It's a form of karate. I love it. It challenges me. It gives me something completely new to learn. It's something I can't learn from wikipedia or books, though books help round out the history knowledge. It's something I will never be "done" achieving because it's a life long discipline but with the same hat it's something I will have with me forever. It's something I can't fully explain how it has changed me.

The water goddess of Isshin-Ryu also known as the Mizugami. There's some debate apparently about the name Mizugami, some call her Megami and claim the former is incorrect. My Sensei, whom I have the utmost respect for, calls her the Mizugami. That's enough for me, people can debate all they want. She's painted on our dojo wall and quite frankly, I think she's kick ass.

2. Train up to run a mile, nonstop. When I get there, run two. And so on.

3. Write a novel. In the mean time, just write. Write write write write. I love to write.

4. Write a blog post at least once a week, minimum of 100 words or about in length. This idea is manifold, one being it's a way to keep the blog up and moving, it's also a way to develop my writing (practice makes perfect, right?), it's a creative outlet, it's an excellent reflection tool, it's fun. The word limit is because I know it might get difficult once I'm back in the swing of things with my classes to take the time to write for pleasure. I'm going to do it anyways. Thank you Lakota for this idea.

5. Creative cooking! Try new recipes. Try old ones. Experiment.

6. Get thrifty! Be on the look out for old clothes and accessories. Try repurposing some things most would never wear again.

7. Break out those water colors again. One of my favorite sections of my art class in high school was water color painting. I still find myself, especially if I'm driving at dawn or dusk, staring at the horizon and thinking about how I'd mix my water colors to get the right colors and the right contrast and depth in a painting.

8. Container gardening. I've already started a small container garden complete with two pepper plants and a cilantro plant. I have plans to incorporate other veggies and herbs but for now my goal is to keep what I have alive. This should be interesting as I've never been successful with keeping plants alive. I bought a cute yellow mum and stuck it in a fun red pot to brighten up my dorm a few years ago. Suffice it to say, a month later the pot was in a box, empty, on its way back to home base where it has sat ever since on the back porch. There's a first time for everything!

Here's my little garden now. I bought them already partially grown as it's too late in the season to start from seed. That will be next year's endeavor, with close advising from Momma and the internet. I have a pepper bud on each plant and my cilantro has already grown a good 1/2 inch!

9. Archery. Tapeworm recently came to me and said he wanted to take up archery as a routine activity. I couldn't agree more. We're both experienced with archery from years of Boy Scouting and Venturing. I learned a little from Girl Scouts, as well. I will say that this sport is surprisingly expensive to get into, given that you pretty much need just a bow and a set of arrows. I suppose one could even shoot off arrows in your back yard, depending on its size and as long as you live in a place that doesn't specifically prohibit it. Then you'd need a target. I live in an unincorporated part of the county and as such, we have no city ordinances to obey. Yay freedom! But jeepers, bows are expensive! This will be a sport that will take some time to work up to.

10. Learn to shoot (better). I've been shooting guns for a fair number of years now. At this point I own one and reload the ammo. I love target shooting. My favorite thing is to go to a steel plates range. The targets are set up similarly to the creepy fuzzy critters that are lined up in rows at various amusement parks and arcades, where people throw balls at them to knock them down? Think that only there's steel circles instead of fuzzy critters, one row instead of three or four, you're at a much further distance from the target, and there's a gun involved. It's great fun. I'm content with indoor ranges though, too.

11. Take up biking again. Tapeworm and I usually bike quite a bit in late fall before it gets too icy and early spring before it gets too hot. There's a trail nearby that follows a river and it's lovely, except in the dead of summer (now) when the air is saturated with moisture and bugs. As fall is approaching, I will be taking this up again.

12. Go camping more. I haven't really gotten the chance to camp much in recent years. This makes me sad as I used to be an avid camper. I have all the gear still for this. Just need to actually go!

13. Photography. I love being creative with photography. I joined a photography club my Senior year of high school. I loved it so much, my parents got me a Nikon D40x that year for Christmas. I freaking love that camera. She's sitting with me right now.

14. Take a road trip. Take two. And so on. Go anywhere. A few hours or a lot of hours. Just because. Alone or with a friend. With two friends, maybe. Spend some money along the way or don't. Just go, see what I find. Take the camera along.

15. Read all the books I've been meaning to (some are re-reads) but haven't. They've piled up. Some include:

-To Kill a Mocking Bird

-I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

-The Lovely Bones

-Screwtape Letters

-The Great Divorce

-The Chronicles of Narnia

-Alice in Wonderland

-Till We Have Faces

-The Shack

-Abarat

16. Listen to the sermon more closely on Sundays. If it helps, take notes. Crack that bible more during the week. Read up some things that are "spiritually stimulating."

17. Do things that affirm to myself that I'm beautiful. Remove such words as: calories, fat, too fat, pudgy (and the like), heavy, weight, diet, etc. from my daily vocabulary, or at least in reference to me. Go through my wardrobe and take out everything that I don't wear anymore because it's too small. I've been the same size for about two years now. Put the items that I still like and I might wear again someday in a box. Donate the rest. With the remaining items, play around with different combinations. Make some new, funky outfits! Do a "glamour shot" photo shoot either alone or with friends. Strike some funny poses. Experiment with fun eye make up. Find a new perfume to try. "Dress up," i.e. wear something besides a t-shirt and jeans, a minimum of three days out of the week- be bold! Try new hairstyles. Say "you look pretty today" to yourself instead of "ew, my hair looks gross."

That's all for now. There will be more in the future.

What's in a name?

If we call a rose by any other name, say a doorstop, it will still smell like a rose (thanks Willy S. for that input). If I called myself Sparkle O'Featherty I'd still be a twenty-something with a little more junk in the trunk than I care for and a playlist that has been repeated a few too many times.


I'm starting my New Year's Resolution a bit late. Okay, really late. It's August. Regardless, my here-on-out resolution is that I want to branch out. Step out of my comfort zone. I want to try new things. Try old things that have gone by the wayside. I want to try harder at things I've picked up only to forget about it in the back of my closet or in my garage or in a stack of notebooks under my desk. I want to move forward, in other words. But sometimes I literally feel like a running fish. or a caterpillar riding a bicycle. or an elephant pole vaulting. You get the point. The thing is, I want to go beyond what I "can't" do. It's not good enough for me to tell myself that I can't run a mile because I've never literally ran one non-stop and I'm out of shape, or to say I can't write a novel on my own because I don't think my writing is good enough, or to say that I can't have a serious relationship with a guy because I suck at those kind of relationships. No no no no no. I'm sick and tired of that logic because I've been using it all my life.

*queue ethereal flashback music*


As far back as I can remember, I felt huge around my peers. Literally huge. HUGE. huge. I was the girl who by First grade was already a good half a head taller than the average in my class. By time I was in the Fourth grade, I was taller and about twice the weight (not exaggerating) as my teacher. In my defense, she was super petite. But still, I was ten and entering the stage where my classmates noticed this sort of thing. It didn't help my case that I wore clothes that were a good size too big for my already roly-poly body, I hardly ever brushed my hair, and I used this God-awful lavender and something scented shampoo/conditioner that still makes my nose wrinkle when I think about how it made my hair smell. It reeked.
Fourth grade was also the first year we started doing distance running in gym class. The goal was a half-mile that year. By Fifth grade, we were expected to go a mile at the end of the year. I was always the girl who either never finished because we ran out of time or was the last one to finish. I'd try to run, I really would, but then I'd get winded and would stop. It was actually painful.
The other kids would laugh at me as they ran past in a big group, all with their slender limbs propelling them along. I just didn't fit into the mold needed to be a part of the pack. Some years I was fortunate to have a classmate who was also on the heavy side to keep me company, but I was always still taller (and in those days that meant "bigger" as well) and I never finished ahead of anyone. Not once. From Fourth grade through my Sophomore year of high school, the last year I had a gym class that required a mile-run. I always seemed to come up short of doing anything well. I even got in trouble for reading when I wasn't supposed to, but that's another story.


While this all might seem like a really long tangent that needs to nipped off and redirected, it's all quite crucial to how I view myself and the world around me now as an adult. I still get a chuckle out of typing those words "as an adult" in reference to myself. Chuckle chuckle.


Fully grown now, I stand at 6'1" tall barefoot. I started to get a handle on my weight in my late teens- I lost approximately 85 pounds between my Freshmen and Senior years of high school. No small feat (pardon the pun), I will give myself a clap for this. Clap clap. College wasn't that nice to me, however, in the weight department. I managed to keep myself nice and trim my Freshmen year, but the following Summer and on into the Fall of my Sophomore year I gained a good 25 pounds back. Which is where I have remained for the past year.
To continue the positive note, however, I've developed my sense of personal style significantly. I've never been the super girly-makeupy-frilly type gal, but I have found that I really enjoy the times I put more effort into my appearance than pulling on the first pair of jeans and t-shirt that I come across in the morning. Not that I don't still do that...cause I do and probably always will. The point is I enjoy being slouchy but I also enjoy finding funky clothes and some simple but unique jewelry to wear. A little makeup doesn't hurt either. Funky glasses are a nice touch as well. I've come to actually embrace looking different.


I find that I've come a very long way from that chunky blonde kid and her smelly shampoo hair (I've since switched to a less pungent line of haircare products). But I've come to realize lately that I don't think that girl's mind set, the one that she learned from years of being bullied and feeling like an outcast, I don't think it's entirely gone from my system.
That little girl sure shined up like a new penny though in high school, when I finally made some lasting friendships and positively flourished under the guidance of some amazing teachers and fulfilling extracurriculars. More on them at a later date. That's the woman I want to be now, the one who shines like that new penny all the time.


This brings me back to my pseudonym, Running Fish. I am the ugly duckling girl turned swan. If I could mail a picture of myself and what I feel about myself now to my eight year old self, that would be one flabbergasted kid. I might not be the beautiful swan of Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale, but I'm certainly not the ugly duckling anymore. I like the name Running Fish, it suits me because I've become what I never thought I could be.


I want more, however. Just like the little baby who takes his or her first breath of air and then sucks greedily for more, demanding life, I've gotten a taste of someone I never thought I could be and I want more.


Thus my next and final point: reinventing myself. New beginnings must be in the air. Or in the water here, because a close friend of mine is also going through a reinventing process of her own. We've been discussing the process, it's very technical. *takes a sip of refreshing water, asks to be pardoned for the pun*


I've always been of the list making variety (in school it's really the only way I can keep myself on track most of the time) but this time, I don't have a definitive "this is everything I plan to do to further myself" list. What I do have is an open canvas and a whole lot of paint I'd like to use. Some of the paint cans I've admired include fiction writing, martial arts, container gardening, creative cooking (my family has really loved it as I've explored this one, I must say), water color painting, and most recently archery. Some of the cans, container gardening for instance, I've only just opened. Some, like martial arts, I've already painted with quite a bit. Some, like archery, I've done before but haven't in a long while. I plan to try all of these things. I don't know what will find a permanent place in my repertoire of life activities. I don't know what else I'll stumble along now that my mind is cleared and opened.


I've taken a breath of fresh air. This past summer has been rather difficult emotionally for me. But I have high hopes for this fall and the seasons to follow it. My past will always be a part of me, but it is only that, a part not my entirety. I might have decided all of this a tad too late for a 2010 resolution or for spring cleaning, but I want this to last more than just a year or any other specific set amount of time. I want to reinvent not who am I but how I live. Because I want to live and live fully.


That's probably enough for now. I can put that deep, philosophical box of mine back on the shelf. Don't worry, it's still visible. I won't stuff it into the nether region of my closet.


Here's a fun video from the recent Disney film Princess and the Frog to wrap things up. If you haven't had enough of my philosophizing, and you're sad I packed that box up, you'll especially enjoy the sentiment behind this catchy ditty.

Signed,

Sparkle O'Featherty

(just kidding)

Running Fish