Blonde Blather Runs!

So I have been a terrible blogger, and have been feeling bad for Blonde Blather followers (you know the 9 that probably don't actually even follow) over the last 6 months...BUT I am here to say that I have a new blog about my newest endeavor of running the LA Marathon in March! I won't leave Blonde Blather permanently...just temporarily. So for now check out:

www.AndToTheFinishline.blogspot.com

This blog is my journey through training with Team in Training for my first marathon, my fund raising for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society and the good times of pain.

Touching Others Lives

As I sit by my Grandma's bedside as she slowly passes away, I realize the impact that she has had on so many people's lives. She made the decision to touch so many lives with her compassion, strength and heart. I have the same choice every day.

My Grandma was granted no simple life. She became a full-time caretaker for her husband after his spinal cord injury when they were in their early 20s. She was never burdened by this, and her strength was out of love for her family. Her life was spent in and out of hospitals. She held the hands of the passing patients, while she still supported my Grandpa and raised a two year-old. When my Grandpa spent the last years of his life in the hospital, she never managed to miss a year of bringing home-made cherry mash to every employee for Christmas. She brought joy into less than perfect situations.

More recently, my Grandma entered a full-time nursing home about 7 years prematurely, but as she called it "The Institution" was her home. Super-nursing-home-women is her name. If it had to be done she did it. She recorded the minutes of all the Residence Council meetings (of course, I don't think this is necessary at all), she was the designated photographer for every event, and if the staff members weren't doing their jobs she was the one to make sure every resident had a voice (even if they literally didn't). Up until 3 months ago, my Grandma was the most functioning resident for seven years. She chose to make a not so glamorous life into one. Her compassion saturated "The Institution."

Today it all hit me. As a few members of the kitchen staff entered her room after their shift in tears of disbelief, I realized that my grandma touched so many lives that I can not even fathom. These were not the first staff members, residents, or resident's family that came to share our grief. Her quick regression into this state left "The Institution" in shock. The cancer took over her faster than anyone could imagine. As she now is comfortable to pass, I know those of us she touched are not as comfortable with this sudden deterioration. Even if it is all too soon, we will wait with her hand in ours. When she is ready she will leave the world that she has so beautifully touched.

Her compassion drove people towards her throughout her life. My Grandma loved people. Now, I will chose to carry on her contagious compassion towards people.

The Truth of Lying

I have had a lot of trouble writing this most recent blog post. Maybe because I have been out of the loop with blogging, but it's more because I don't know if I am ready to ask my questions to the world (or just the few who read my blog). But here I go.

Why do people lie?

I have had my fair share of innocent lies throughout my life. I lied almost every night as a kid about washing the table, when all I really did was just wipe the crumbs to the floor for my brother to sweep. I lied about how much time I have spent studying versus watching tv. I have lied about what I really did the night before. I have lied (or as I like to call it exaggerating) to make my stories just a little more entertaining.

I can not lie about lying, because it's just impossible. We all have told a few small tales.

I honestly can say that I have never lied about who I am. I think that the moment when someone lies about the defining characteristics of who they are is when lying becomes such a hurtful and deceitful act.

Recently I have been lied too. Not just lied too, but I was told a fictitious story that was so intertwined into my own life that it makes me now question everything. It makes me wonder what other lies I have been living, and who else has been and will be lying to me. It honestly gives me a disgusted feeling inside thinking about how anyone could possibly be so relentless with other's emotions. All of these things keep circulating in my head and maybe always will, but I have found with every lie there is still truth. Truth is always there.

My recent encounter with this compulsive liar brought out truth too. It brought out the importance that truth plays every day. Lies can seem like they have saturated my life for some time now, but the best thing about truth is that it is always there and is stable. Lies come and go, and are always revealed.

I realized that it is the truths in life that get us by day to day. I know everyday I will wake up and my family will unconditionally love me. They will stand by my side and be a solid truth in my life. I know that I have friends that will be there for me and love me for who I am and what I do. But most of all, I have the truth of myself.

I am my biggest truth. I can not lie to myself and I can not hide from myself, so when it seems like lies are colliding with my world, I can find the truth within myself. It's comforting that I know I can trust myself in the end. Even if I have acted like someone I may not have wanted to be, I am still me and am honestly true to myself. I know in my heart when I am not me.

At the end of the day, despite the malicious lies others may have told us, we all have the honesty of ourselves to hold true to.

Our Inhibiting Freedoms

For the past month or so, I have started many different blog posts and really haven't had the drive to finish any of them. Their subjects didn't spark an interest in my mind, and I didn't really connect with them. I also have been painfully busy writing for school, and in all honesty school has sucked the enjoyment of writing out of me for the time being.

But today, something caught my attention...

I am reading Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. As a friend of mine would say "It's a buzz book from years ago". Ok, 2003 to be exact. It claims to be nonreligious thoughts on Christianity. Basically about the author's spiritual journey, which in fact is a honest and interesting one. I am enjoying this "buzz book".

Here Don talks about how God has inhibited freedom in him:
"I told God I wanted to be a fish. I also felt a little bitter about sleep. Why do we have sleep? I wanted to be able to stay awake for as long as I wanted, but God had put me in this body that had to sleep. Life no longer seemed like an experience of freedom."

This quote resonated with me 1) because I have a fascination with the abundance of the freedoms we are told we have (of intelligence, especially), 2) because we really are inhibited by the bodies that we have and 3) I really could use for an extra 8 hours in my days right now.

It's for sure something I have never thought about. The freedoms that our bodies limit our ability to prosper as we would like. What a thought. What could I do if I could fly or breathe underwater? Or on a much more realistic level...What could I do if I didn't sleep? Well, really not realistic at all. Maybe more humanistic.

In a world of speedy and bustling lifestyles, would more hours lead to more days spent wishing for more time. Would our traditional 40 hour work week turn into an 80 hour work week? Would we find more useless activities to fill our time with?

I wonder if in a world of more time, if it would transgress much like this one. All we would know was 24 hours of awake time a day. Wouldn't we just fill the time and be unsatisfied, still? We always want more. I always hear people say "if they just had more time". Well if you had more time would it be beneficial?

Think about one less hour in a day. Would we learn to be more effective workers and we get the necessary done? If we had more hours, would we just accomplish the same amount but in a slower manner?

My questions could be endless about this. Its hard to know. Pulling all nighters can't help us find the answer, because I personally know that when 5 am hits, our brains just don't work at the same level. We will never know the answer of living in a body that did not sleep.

I guess we can't be angry with the freedoms that are limited by our bodies. I certainly wouldn't want to be in a sloth's body. Our bodies actually allow us to do more than any other specie.

I would say to Don: "Just be thankful for what you are, because it could be a lot worse."

Utopia's Burdens

"The founders of a new colony, whatever Utopia of human virtue and happiness they might originally project, have invariably recognized it among their earliest practical necessities to allot a portion of the virgin soil as a cemetery, and another portion as the site of a prison." - Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

Seems ironic that the necessities of human life are nested among evil and sadness.

Besides the literary illusion that Utopia is defined by, it represents an unrealistic hope. But is that a problem? Or does it paint a picture of idealism and promote motivation?

We all have a vision of our perfect utopian life. Maybe not a clear cut masterpiece of art painted in front of us, but we strive for happiness in life. We strive to accomplish things that will lead us to this state. This may be the only commonality we have with our neighbors, but the state of being happy is a common ambition to pursue. Happiness, though, is not perfection.

We may not see the struggles that we will indefinitely endure, but when confronted with them we attempt to accept them, but don't involve them in our utopia painted picture. Even acceptance of them is hard, and we may never accept all the hard-ships as necessary parts of our existence, but we understand that life is not perfect.

So if life isn't perfect then why put an unobtainable trophy at the end of life's race? Does it make life look grim because it never will be what it is imagined as?

I think about imagining my Utopia with hard-ships, downfalls and struggles, and now my painted picture looks no different than my ordinary life. I am having difficulty deciphering the outcome of having a utopian vision or not. Just accepting life will be full of pit-stops and a few tears here and there, or striving for the perfection when we know it doesn't exist.

I feel that my Utopian World only makes my life look discouraging when really there is little I have to complain about. Only when in comparison with perfection does my life look somber, so I think I'll stop striving for perfect but start striving for Happiness. Dangling an inconceivable treat in front of our hearts only sets us up for undeniable failure. Strive for a life that has possibility.

Denial or Delusional?

Denial: refusal to recognize or acknowledge.

Last night in class, my professor mentioned something about the "denial that everyone carries around throughout life". It was not a basis of our classroom discussion, but that thought really stuck with me. Not necessarily about a denial I have had or am having, but the thought of the weight that denial carries in everyone's life and what exactly denial is.

Is Denial an avoidance of truth? Or are we all Delusional?

It made me think about all the denial that I have had throughout my life. Truthfully, denial is such a strong force that I can't even fathom the thought of writing on my blog the many denials I have had. It's as if I were to write them for the public to see that I would have to accept the truth. This realization scares me because of how abstract the truth really is. Regardless, if my denials were when I was young or now, I still am wary of admitting them.

Or are we all delusional? And have we yet to gather all the facts so we can't formulate a truth?

I think denial is a natural coping mechanism that every human being uses to avoid dealing with the truth. Am I defending the use of denial by defining it with such raw form? Or am I in denial about what it really is and how I have used it in my life?

Is denial ok? Is it right to avoid truth through denial? Is it lying to yourself? Or are we delusional? These many questions keep me wondering about the truth behind denial and if there is a truth behind it.

Is the truth that burdensome that we must deny it? Or is it so difficult to define that we define it the way we want to?

By choosing to deny what is really placed in front of us, does it make us weak people that can not cope with what we don't want to accept? Does searching for truth make us vulnerable to situations, thoughts and experiences we would rather not have? Denial is the only way to not make us vulnerable, or is it?

Maybe I should acknowledge the denial I have carried around throughout my life and accept the truth. Or maybe I should just let it be and accept it as my defense mechanism that just might hinder my experiences.

I just don't know how I feel about the denial, but I know that it sounds like a hefty weight to be carrying around my entire life.

And for delusional...I think that's one I would rather not be called.

Creating Miracles

"Miracles happen to those who believe in them" Bernard Berenson

This quote like many dealing with miracles emphasize the importance of believing in them, but not about how to make them happen.

I couldn't say it better than Dr. Bernie S. Siegel said in his book 365 Prescriptions for the Soul:

"A true miracle is usually defined as an event that defies the laws of nature as we know them. On the other hand, quantum physicists reveal that desire and intention can alter the physical world. This reaching for the unreachable star makes sense, and creating miracles becomes possible, if one is willing to do the work."

I have never been one to necessarily believe in miracles; let alone rely on them. One reason for my reluctance to rely on such an idealistic event to occur is that miracles have seemed uncontrollable to me. I like to believe I have some kind of control over my existence. With this definition and explanation of a miracle, I see that miracles can be taken under control by any individual themselves.

The human is an absolute phenomenal organism. With a brain that has such a limitless ability of knowledge and a body that can do unthinkable tasks, no human being exhibits their full potential throughout their life time. We do not know our potential. We have the potential to create miracles so minuet or so exorbitant.

I have the ability to reach for something that seems so unrealistic to me, and work towards a plan of action that will gather all the pieces to create something big. Something I maybe have always thought of as bigger than me. Creating my own miracles, or even just knowing I have the ability to, pushes me to strive harder for what I dream of and to do something about it versus sitting and waiting for it to surprise me, as the impression of miracles do.

I think about Haiti being in need of a serious miracle after the devastation that occurred last week. A miracle that absolutely is not possible with out the help of millions. Our potential as citizens of the world needs to be explored. We need to do anything for these struggling members of our own society. If it's donating money or blood, adopting a child or giving anything to these people and their country, we must do it. My own miracles that I can create will hopefully never be as needed as those of the people of Haiti. Not just today do they need help, but they need help for the next decade as their country completely rebuilds itself from the ground up.

In no way do I think that anyone would disagree with the importance of this tragedy, and I certainly do not want to preach, but when I stumbled across this definition of creating miracles I could think of nothing else.

We all should test our potential and see what miracles we can create within our own lives, the lives of others and throughout the world.