I feel compelled to say something. What? I haven’t been here in ages (or months, more literally). I lost my way a bit with my writing. I took a class this fall, and wrote some things, and was fired up for more, and then it petered out when the class ended. I’m still writing in the mornings, though not as consistently as I have been.
When I feel caged, mostly by myself, I get the urge to come back here. It’s such a silly thing, my self-imposed trap. I work to make money and let days blur one into the other. There is more, you know. How often do you wish to distract yourself?
I’m not much for resolutions, but I do like to think about goals and intentions. I’ll try harder to read more this year. I’m planning to keep a more careful fitness log because I’m going to run a marathon. I’m craving deliberateness and intentionality.
The sun is shining bright in Chicago this morning. I woke up at 6AM, and lingered in the half-awake and half-asleep place for another two hours. I dreamed up scenes from something I might write. When I woke up, Jacob juiced a grapefruit, and I drank the juice.
It’s the new year! It feels hopeful and fearful, right?
Sunday, January 1, 2017
Monday, September 26, 2016
birthday like this.
I meant to come back here last Friday to post this list, but the day/weekend got swept away into a last-minute trip and the craziness of life. My birthday came and went. Here I am now, trying my best, year after year, six years counting.
Last year, I decided to live valiantly (whatever that means), and it looked like this:
Last year, I decided to live valiantly (whatever that means), and it looked like this:
run my 3rd half marathon AND/OR a marathon- make a biking friend in Chicago
- finish writing two essays and submit one (
one essay completed) build a freelance businessmake homemade Christmas giftsGET MARRIEDcommit to meal planning& stick to the eating out budget (eek)- read 30 books
- sew one piece of clothing (the fabric is sitting on my table right now)
practice meditationassume the best in people (sometimes)- purchase five high-quality pieces of clothing (
one down) actively worry less (trying)stick with YNAB for a full year- keep criticism to myself
join a book club and/or writer’s groupplan a month-long trip next summerlearn new thingshelp Jake’s family tap the maple trees- knit a new winter hat
- go on a roadtrip
- practice chit-chatting strangers
canning! to include: tomatoes, salsa, jam & apples (for now)finish two courses towards a Nonprofit Management Certificatestick to the ‘no phone in bed’ rule (sort of)say what I think (or write it)- make a nature journal
make yogurtfind a place to volunteerbe confident (also, trying)
Thursday, September 22, 2016
here are some things.
My cat is screaming in my face right now. SCREAMING. His hungry little eyes are staring deep into my soul, like maybe today will be the day that I don’t feed him. Even though, every day for many years now, I’ve always fed him.
Twice today I saw a big man with a small dog (different men, different dogs). I’ve been thinking about dogs a lot lately, because.........well, because both J and I are suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to have one. Isn’t it a strange but wonderful thing? We bring these furry tame little creatures into our homes and we love the shit out of them. They aren’t people, they don’t speak, who knows what they think or feel, but in their way, they love us back. And it’s kind of unconditional, or based on very simple demands (food!). I think it’s good to have that kind of love in your life.
It’s Thursday, which means two things: nachos and TV. I honestly can’t remember the last Thursday night that didn’t involve the magical, Thursdays-only fried chicken nachos. It’s a real weakness at this point in my life. Also, that show is reeeeeeeeeeeal good and tonight we’re watching the season finale.
Tomorrow is my birthday. I get weird about it, sometimes. I overthink--most days, but especially on my birthday. I mean, it’s just the day I WAS BORN. What’s the big deal?
I’ve been trying to incorporate more small luxuries into my life, ala The Artist’s Way. It’s surprisingly hard work for this Midwestern-hearty aesthete with loads of guilt. LUXURY?! WTF?! But it’s good. I’m trying to give some of it to myself for my birthday, a few small luxuries. It started with buying two books that I didn’t need, but wanted. Tomorrow, I’m intending to buy a ridiculously overpriced coffee drink. I’m going to march into Whole Foods and buy myself a treat--ANYTHING I WANT. In J’s words, I really know how to live. And I’ll be back tomorrow, birthday-list-style.
Twice today I saw a big man with a small dog (different men, different dogs). I’ve been thinking about dogs a lot lately, because.........well, because both J and I are suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to have one. Isn’t it a strange but wonderful thing? We bring these furry tame little creatures into our homes and we love the shit out of them. They aren’t people, they don’t speak, who knows what they think or feel, but in their way, they love us back. And it’s kind of unconditional, or based on very simple demands (food!). I think it’s good to have that kind of love in your life.
It’s Thursday, which means two things: nachos and TV. I honestly can’t remember the last Thursday night that didn’t involve the magical, Thursdays-only fried chicken nachos. It’s a real weakness at this point in my life. Also, that show is reeeeeeeeeeeal good and tonight we’re watching the season finale.
Tomorrow is my birthday. I get weird about it, sometimes. I overthink--most days, but especially on my birthday. I mean, it’s just the day I WAS BORN. What’s the big deal?
I’ve been trying to incorporate more small luxuries into my life, ala The Artist’s Way. It’s surprisingly hard work for this Midwestern-hearty aesthete with loads of guilt. LUXURY?! WTF?! But it’s good. I’m trying to give some of it to myself for my birthday, a few small luxuries. It started with buying two books that I didn’t need, but wanted. Tomorrow, I’m intending to buy a ridiculously overpriced coffee drink. I’m going to march into Whole Foods and buy myself a treat--ANYTHING I WANT. In J’s words, I really know how to live. And I’ll be back tomorrow, birthday-list-style.
Saturday, September 17, 2016
happy clam.
I’m taking this Saturday morning real slow. I have a bit of a head cold, but also it just feels nice to let my brain wander, to flit aimlessly from one task to the next, avoiding the to do list. I’m on my second cup of coffee and an empty stomach. I'm about to go eat some cold pizza from the fridge.
I have no obligations today--my favorite sort of day. I can work on whatever I want, in perfect solitude and silence. This is the sort of day that revives me, helps me feel like myself again.
This has been a good year, and my birthday is approaching, and I’m thinking about it a lot. I’m thinking about what I accomplished this year and what I’ll accomplish in the year to come. It was a good year and a challenging year. I worked very very hard. At times (many times), I felt an unmanageable amount of stress. But also, I married the best and most inspiring person I know. I took off from work and life for a MONTH and traveled my butt around Europe.
I spent 30 minutes this morning reading through some of the archives here (especially 2011 and 2014). I love the way that this space helps me track my own evolution of thought and personal growth. It’s like a journal, but in a completely different way. It makes me love myself. Is that strange to say? I read old entries, and I tell myself: you’re smart and interesting, Lisa, and I like who you are.
It’s not that hip to like yourself, especially as a woman. The thing to do is reject any compliments and then draw attention to some part of your body that you dislike. It’s such a fucking bummer. Ladies, can we not do that anymore? I really prefer loving myself.
So this place matters for that reason, even if that’s the only one.
Today, I’m going to:
--do some cleaning
--make a load of burritos to restock the freezer
--do some sewing (because: birthday list)
That’s all, and it’s good. I’m happy as a happy clam.
I have no obligations today--my favorite sort of day. I can work on whatever I want, in perfect solitude and silence. This is the sort of day that revives me, helps me feel like myself again.
This has been a good year, and my birthday is approaching, and I’m thinking about it a lot. I’m thinking about what I accomplished this year and what I’ll accomplish in the year to come. It was a good year and a challenging year. I worked very very hard. At times (many times), I felt an unmanageable amount of stress. But also, I married the best and most inspiring person I know. I took off from work and life for a MONTH and traveled my butt around Europe.
I spent 30 minutes this morning reading through some of the archives here (especially 2011 and 2014). I love the way that this space helps me track my own evolution of thought and personal growth. It’s like a journal, but in a completely different way. It makes me love myself. Is that strange to say? I read old entries, and I tell myself: you’re smart and interesting, Lisa, and I like who you are.
It’s not that hip to like yourself, especially as a woman. The thing to do is reject any compliments and then draw attention to some part of your body that you dislike. It’s such a fucking bummer. Ladies, can we not do that anymore? I really prefer loving myself.
So this place matters for that reason, even if that’s the only one.
Today, I’m going to:
--do some cleaning
--make a load of burritos to restock the freezer
--do some sewing (because: birthday list)
That’s all, and it’s good. I’m happy as a happy clam.
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
flashing.
Three weeks ago, I pulled up a blank page to start writing here. I remember that I started by writing, “I’ve been avoiding looking at this space.” Three weeks later, it’s still true.
In my mind, I’m still writing here, or not much time has passed, or not much has happened. In fact five months have passed, and I’ve gotten married, and written a lot, tested myself, traveled for a month, and generally lived life.
When I started this blog five (FIVE!) years ago, I felt such a pull to write, but didn’t know how to make myself do it. I struggled to write in a notebook, struggled and struggled, until wild writing would fly out of me and I’d throw the notebook away. It was such an accomplishment when I finished a notebook.
These days, I’m writing. I’m writing every morning, 30 minutes, sometimes an hour. I’m writing in the flimsy Moleskine cahier notebooks, finishing them in a month or less. I’m almost afraid to say it, because I don’t want to lose it. When you’ve spent years trying to tap into this stream, it feels quite precious--and what if it’s fleeting?
I started this blog to make myself write, and now I’m figuring out what else I can do here. As I have been all along. So much of life is constant adjustment. As soon as you find something that works, suddenly it doesn’t work anymore. Living means being flexible, building new systems each day, finding new ways each day. Life is one season after another after another. The life I’m living in now is so vastly different from my life even one year ago, there’s been a lot of this figuring out.
So you (if you’re there)--can you indulge me? I’ll promise to come back here, and while I’m here, I’ll figure out what I’m doing here. Once a week, at least. I’ll make sense of what I’m doing while I’m doing it. I’m full of ideas right now. So many ideas, so many starts, hot fire and flashing and wild eyes. I’m moving down the path, whatever it is, wherever it leads.
Tonight, I’m going to rest in this ambiguous and ridiculous place, big talk, short sentences, who knows what I’m saying or what I mean? I’m here, now. I’m writing these words, now. It’s a connection, a line straight through my body, my fingers, my eyes, and straight into you.
In my mind, I’m still writing here, or not much time has passed, or not much has happened. In fact five months have passed, and I’ve gotten married, and written a lot, tested myself, traveled for a month, and generally lived life.
When I started this blog five (FIVE!) years ago, I felt such a pull to write, but didn’t know how to make myself do it. I struggled to write in a notebook, struggled and struggled, until wild writing would fly out of me and I’d throw the notebook away. It was such an accomplishment when I finished a notebook.
These days, I’m writing. I’m writing every morning, 30 minutes, sometimes an hour. I’m writing in the flimsy Moleskine cahier notebooks, finishing them in a month or less. I’m almost afraid to say it, because I don’t want to lose it. When you’ve spent years trying to tap into this stream, it feels quite precious--and what if it’s fleeting?
I started this blog to make myself write, and now I’m figuring out what else I can do here. As I have been all along. So much of life is constant adjustment. As soon as you find something that works, suddenly it doesn’t work anymore. Living means being flexible, building new systems each day, finding new ways each day. Life is one season after another after another. The life I’m living in now is so vastly different from my life even one year ago, there’s been a lot of this figuring out.
So you (if you’re there)--can you indulge me? I’ll promise to come back here, and while I’m here, I’ll figure out what I’m doing here. Once a week, at least. I’ll make sense of what I’m doing while I’m doing it. I’m full of ideas right now. So many ideas, so many starts, hot fire and flashing and wild eyes. I’m moving down the path, whatever it is, wherever it leads.
Tonight, I’m going to rest in this ambiguous and ridiculous place, big talk, short sentences, who knows what I’m saying or what I mean? I’m here, now. I’m writing these words, now. It’s a connection, a line straight through my body, my fingers, my eyes, and straight into you.
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