Bleh. I'm running.

Several months back, I asked my younger brother to choose something he'd love to do with me and we'd spend a weekend together. He chose a "fun run", an 11k. It's not solid - we're not signed up or anything - but now I'm committed to doing it and I'm running again. I haven't run in years, so it's pretty painful to watch (and do!). I have a running partner who is 100% positive though, so that helps. Mostly I moan and say "fuck" a lot. It's unpleasant.

The funny thing is how my body is responding. I don't wake up sore the next day. I'm tired, sure, but mostly the pain is in the doing. It hurts my heart and lungs. My throat feels likes it's closing up. It's the most asthmatic I've ever come close to feeling. I've approached wheezing on several occasions. But all-in all, it's going well. It's possible that eating afterwards helps a lot, which I haven't ever been able to do. It's also possible that insulin helps move energy to my muscles, which has also never happened before whilst running.

I'm currently drinking coffee from a Peace mug with a white dove. I brewed the coffee with Pumpkin Spice since I ran out of cinnamon. Yesterday I spilled a cup of boiling hot coffee all over my linen top only thirty minutes before work. I sat outside at Starbucks in a wet shirt looking like a reluctant wet t-shirt contest participant. Luckily I had a scarf and linen dries quickly.

I swear I'm not a hot mess.

No rest.

It's really important to me to live at peace with other people, and that might make me what some people call a pacifist. Of course, I hate labels. The frugal part of me appreciates substance over all else. Anyhow, living at peace with other people is difficult, because peace isn't about the absence of conflict. Peace is about what's on the other side of that conflict.

When I have a relationship that isn't quite right, I suffer: I lose sleep; I have trouble eating. I just generally feel like ass. And what I wish I could do is just throw the whole thing away. It's not worth all the pain incurred. Being alone is preferable. Except it's not. It's not preferable to be alone. It's not good to be alone. People need to be with other people. We're pack animals.

But people are flawed. I am flawed. So when I get together with another person, we will have a flawed relationship. And that's where I get stuck, romantically speaking. I can have flawed friendships - sure. But flawed romance? That feels wrong and sinful, like God has some perfect person for me, and I'm going to miss out on that person by being in the flawed relationship I'm in.

Meandering thoughts late at night.

Cheers.

The Boys from Brazil

I realized this week that every movie that I watch that has violence, provides me with some sort of implicit social commentary on the nature of violence. If this were intentional, it seems like peace would be easier to achieve. If the Hunger Games trilogy is so popular, shouldn't we be seeing a peaceful revolution developing right in front of us? Some part of me thinks it is on the horizon, that somehow generations are being formed that will shift global consciousness towards peace and reconciliation. Or maybe I'm too hopeful for my own good.

Yesterday, I watched Red Dawn (1984), directed by John Milius, and starring a young Patrick Swayze and Charlie Sheen, and at the end of it felt like I'd watched a commentary on present-day Afghanistan. Young people are driven out into the wilderness during an attack on the US, and they become like cave-dwellers in the mountains, paranoid and hungry, willing to kill anyone who crosses them, even their closest friends. Isolation mixed with fear can produce some pretty nasty consequences.

Today I watched The Boys from Brazil (1978), directed by Franklin J. Schaffner. World War II themes combined with 1970s era South America? It sounds like a recipe for my perfect movie. Also, Steve Gutenberg was pretty hot as a young twenty-something ;) It answers the strange and wonderful question, "Should you kill baby Hitler, if you knew he was Hitler?" Fascinating movie about social engineering and evil intent.

I guess the more violence I see, the more senseless it becomes. Perhaps that's just my special brain working. I don't know any better; it's the only one I've ever had :)

Life is pretty awesome, after all.

These vintage 3D latch hook kits are awesome :)

Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place.

Rumi

Everything in my life is so crazy and mixed up at the moment that all I can do is laugh and smile, and listen to songs on repeat.

Life takes some sharp twists and turns sometimes, but in the end, somehow, everything will be okay. Somehow, in the midst of neurological craziness, and health problems up the wang, and emotional overload, and missing people like crazy, it just stops mattering. Somehow, I'm alive and loved and I have joy in my life, so I really can't complain. And I'm gonna celebrate by wearing my favorite red pants tonight, so y'all can look forward to that.

So no complaints. Life is pretty awesome :)

I guess it's 9/11.

I work with people who are hurting, and oftentimes within that hurt are questions of forgiveness. What is forgiveness? How does a person forgive? What does forgiveness mean? And I never answer those questions for another person, because those are deep questions about faith and belief, and it's incredibly important for a person to be able to make decisions about forgiveness autonomously, without the interests of other people getting in the way.

Larger issues of peace are incredibly complex. Forgiveness and peace may be inextricably linked, but how one goes about finding peace is also a deeply personal issue. Sometimes we get very sidetracked with blame, and wanting answers. Sometimes there are no answers. Sometimes life sucks and we just have to keep going.

In Bikram last night, the teacher (or supreme yogi, or whatever they're called) reminded us that Bikram helps us to find stillness, or forces us to be still. All I know is that at the end of the class, I want to jump up and run out the door. I want the hot to go away. I want to breathe cool air. But I heed those words (because what am I there for if I don't listen?), and I lie as still as I can, for as long as I can (probably less than the recommended three minutes), before I hurry to test my sugar and get some fresher air.

When I lived in the jungle, I had few moments of cool crisp air to breathe. When I came off the plane, I thought I would die. It felt like an oven (it was the equator, after all). And my body suffered in the heat, and my soul suffered with loneliness, but I survived. Sometimes all we can do is survive, and hope that God really is there and real, or else none of it means anything anyway and there is no point.

So breathe the hot air, because it's all you have. Be mad if you want, because it won't make the hot air go away. I like to be mad at God. God can handle it.

The truth hurts.

1974 Vintage (Tattered) Holly Hobbie Doll

So I'm listening to Taylor Swift on repeat. It's a beautiful thing. I don't know why I get hooked on stuff, but she is definitely my current fave. I'm also hooked on having lots of thinking time. 108 degrees will do that to a person. Don't you wish that thinking actually helped a person? That somehow we could think our way out of problems? But no. It doesn't work that way. We have to talk, communicate with others. We have to be in relationships with other people, and that's where it gets tricky.

Yesterday, I received a lovely email from a relative telling me what a terrible person/daughter I am, etc, etc. Now, unless you begin to fret, I'll let you in on a secret: I've received at least a hundred of these things in my lifetime, and do not intend to have a freak-out on account of other people's misplaced anxiety. That being said, 100 of these nasty things can make a girl tired, and in 108 degrees, just done. So, even though I usually throw them away and move on with my day, this one stuck with me, as they tend to do every so often. And in a rare moment of clarity and temperance, I responded.

Nasty emails should not always be responded to. I find that filtering my email (along with various other accounts), allows me to completely avoid the nastiness that other people like to send my way. But sometimes the truth is necessary, and needs to be said. And you know what? Oftentimes the truth hurts, because the truth often just sucks. And that's just the truth.

But use with discretion, like alcohol.

:) :) :) :) :) :) :)

8oz Starbucks travel mug

The moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth, the delight, and the ecstasy of it, you will discover that the world is transformed.

J. Krishnamurti

My old car, the one I sold, had a wonderful bumper sticker on it from Krishnamurti. I wish I could remember it, so I'm gonna go look it up. Oh yay! It was orange, and it said (in a fantastic purple font), "It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society". It felt so Me, and I felt like it completely reflected who I am, or was at the time. I still think it reflects who I am, but now the car is gone, and the sentiment remains. I had a wonderful conversation last night about the Hunger Games (the movie, particularly), and I think that there was consensus that the world is a sick place, and not always for the reasons people think. Sometimes we ignore the real sickness so we can focus on the things that make us uncomfortable.

How's that for an inspiring post?! Go out and make the world a better place! Oh, I forgot to tell you all that while I was walking the dog last night, I found a discarded wicker coffee table in the alley and I carried it home like 3/4 of a mile in one hand, and the dog in the other. So now we have a patio coffee table and chairs, and the weather has been SO lovely that I want to be outside all the time! I need to walk down the alley more often. Oh, and I also think it's important to note that I will always be the person who picks up trash in the alley and makes it useful. That's just who I am.

Thrift Share Monday :)

I just want to give the world more beauty :)

 

Do you know that there are innocent people in prison? I just watched the documentary, The Thin Blue Line, and it reminds me why I wanted to go into law when I was a kid. I wanted to make sure that no one suffered for a crime they did not commit. I was a dreamer - I still am.

Are you a helper? How did that happen? What is the difference between a person who lives life committed to peace and justice, and a person who lives life for money and power? I guess that's one of the reasons I ended up where I am today as an adult, definitely not a lawyer. I wish I could understand why people decide to work for good, then I could pass it on.

I've named these "The Star Trek Shoes"

My newfound acceptance of science fiction and fantasy is evidence of my ability to dream a little more, to incorporate a little bit more un-reality into my life. I think dreaming is a really important thing. Sometimes we scold children for telling stories, and sometimes we need to be encouraging them to dream more instead of less. There has to be a time where imagination is fostered and nurtured. If we do not dream, we can never hope for something different.

Every one needs something big to dream. Dreaming keeps us alive.

Still linking up with Apron Thrift Girl :)

Thrift Share Monday :)

 

I've bought several pairs of vintage Florsheim men's shoes in the past month. I was initially looking for a new revenue source, and looked for what brands were selling well, and I noticed that I wasn't purchasing vintage men's shoes. I'd been focusing on women's shoes. Here's a look at what I'd been missing.

I've found that good photos are key to selling vintage shoes. The more photos, the better. Remember how much you appreciate the experience of touching the items you buy in a store. I think that research is key here. The same shoe can be listed, but only one sells. Why? Sometimes, it's just dumb luck. But most of the time, in my humble unlearn-ed opinion, it's because of the research that goes on before the item is listed.

For example, I found a website with all of the Florsheim styles and their names. Of course, now that I want to give it to you, I can't find it for the life of me. It's okay though, because I looked through 500 styles and didn't find the one I was looking for.

I have really started to pay attention to how I personally react (thought-wise) to how people are dressed. It ain't pretty. I have less respect for people who aren't dressed well, regardless of who they are. It got me to thinking that school uniforms are pretty important. When you feel good about how you look, you act differently. The social concept of dress is important. In Brazil, you did not go out, "into town", without your best clothes on, ever. How often do I walk out of my house looking less than my best? I haven't washed my hair in five days.

In sum, you'll feel better with a nice pair of long-lasting shoes.

Linking up with Apron Thrift Girl.

omg — what have I done?

 

All of my insecurities are flying at my face right now, and I'm in pain. I don't know how it happened, and now I'm in this hole where I'm ugly and fat and I can't do anything right. Just typing that was difficult, and now I'm crying.

I was raised to be attuned to everyone's emotions but my own, everyone else's needs to the exclusion of my own. I was raised to believe that I had to be perfect or my parents would get rid of me. Oh my goodness. How horrible is that?

And now, in the midst of this silly business I try to pay the bills with, I keep getting hit with the reminder that no thing and no one is perfect. And to top it all off, I'm the one throwing the punches. I'm the one who loves thrift and recycling, the imperfect things of the world, the things that have been thrown away. I'm the one who decided that somehow this love would define me and my worldview. I'm the one who is somehow made whole through it.

And somehow, I'm the one I keep throwing away.

World AIDS Day

 

AIDS is so huge, and hidden, that we often forget how real it still is, that people are still suffering and dying, that whole countries in Africa are essentially being run by an orphaned generation.

Please don't choose to be apathetic and helpless today. Please do something.

As I focus my own advocacy and support towards Mennonite Central Committee, I will point you in that direction. If you already have something in mind, please comment on this post. I would love to hear what you do to honor those who suffer, who have died, who have lost, and who struggle each day to fight against oppression and racism and indifference and ignorance to fight the evil of HIV/AIDS. Please know that the most populated countries in the world are those most at risk for total devastation (e.g. India & China).

Please don't give up on caring. It hurts, and it's difficult, but it also makes you human.

A Magical Moment

 

I just ate three pieces of pie. They were tiny pieces, but there were three of them. I enjoyed every bite. They were delicious. I also ate a big pile of mashed potatoes, and a big pile of stuffing with cranberry dressing. There were a lot of greens on the plate, and I ate them, but they were less exciting. Now I'm so full and tired and happy, I can't think of anything but those three things.

After work today, I went thrifting in search of a coffee mug for a friend. I swear, at two separate stores, the guys behind the counter lit up when I walked in. It was 5 o'clock in the evening, the end of the work day, and they lit up. They wanted to know if they could help me...know what I was looking for...what I was doing for Thanksgiving... What a weird day. I was feeling strangely happy today though. Maybe it was infectious.

Sometimes I just adore thrift store employees. Sometimes they are grumpy as all get out, but sometimes we really connect. I think tonight was one of those magical times.

Another miracle of the evening was that I went to four different stores and only bought one single coffee mug. Nothing else. I didn't even get stuck staring at shoes, which often happens.

Go me!

Costly, long-suffering, hope

After this weekend's horrible events in Northern California, I've really been struggling to hold on to my stringent peace position. I have made my life about the work of peace and justice in the world, and for the first time, I'm wavering. I'm beginning to understand those who call cops "pigs". I'm losing my grip on my own beliefs. When I see indifferent violence being carried out in my own world, to my friends, my brain gets fuzzy.

Please recognize that I know that there is horrific violence in the world every day. I know that in my being; I have known it my whole life. And short of banging on soft surfaces with my fists and screaming alone in an empty room, I am not a violent person. I don't believe in violence. I think it's silly, that we as a species would resort to harming one another to solve our problems. I actually don't understand it. I resist it in my very soul. But something changed inside of me when I saw that video on Saturday morning. Perhaps the door in my heart, that I'd shut long ago, had been opened, and I began to see that violence is not just something I hate, but something that is real.

This is not a naive experience for me. I was not born into my beliefs; I have had to earn them. And they have come at a very high price. Violence is real to me, but perhaps I've been looking at it with compassion all this time. I try desperately to understand the aggressor in every situation, to feel compassion for them, to find empathy for the pain that they must experience as a perpetrator, and then later as a survivor of that perpetration. But to see the indifference with which that cop calmly shook that can...my soul cannot contain it.

I wish that I could give you some kind of resolution to this issue (I myself have found a little here and here). I wish I could give you all the hope you need for your own life. That is my life's work. But today, I will fail you. I'm so very sorry.

My life- a regular soap opera

So for some reason, I have received several insulting criticisms over the past few days via the internet. Some were veiled with false praise, while others were just blatantly unkind and unnecessary. Add to this some very passive-aggressive behavior by other people in my immediate life, and you've got yourself a regular soap opera, courtesy of Megan's world.

I was once very sensitive to critique of any kind. But now I hear criticism and I have to let it go, or else I would crumble. I have to suck up my defenses that immediately bristle. Instead of saying, "Hey bee-otch. Why do you find it necessary to be so rude to someone you've never met?" No. Instead, I say, "I am so terribly sorry that you are unhappy. Please let me know what I can do to make this right." There was no response to that particular email. Success! I was somehow able to diffuse a very hostile situation with total submission.

Finally, I take a deep breath, remind myself of the numerous people who appreciate me, and move on with my day.

11. Thrift Blogs

So I haven't been around the thrift blog block for too long. I think I started really paying attention to what people were doing this past summer (i.e. I had more "me" time). I was pretty quickly hooked. ATG's weekly round-up of weekend thrifting fun can keep me busy for hours. I wanted in, but I waited until I had something to say and the time to say it. I committed (to myself, at least) that I would post every day, no matter what, and lately that has been challenged, and I've learned to be kind to myself, and not expect my readers (all five of them) to tire of my day-to-day philosophizing.

On my list of favorite things a couple months ago is the wonder of thrift blogs. I do them all a disservice by not digging deep into every one of them as I write this at 9pm, so I'll have to figure out a way to honor them and still get a good night's sleep. Here goes...nothing.

1. Apron Thrift Girl-I occasionally send Selena strange emails, some of which she responds to. I recognize that in the blogging world, we are all strangers with a common love, and I can come across extra-crazy if I don't watch myself. Working on it. Selena is awesome, vulnerable without being creepy. Open without being too open. Sharing endlessly without hoarding her expertise. A gift, that woman.

2. Thrift Core-Vanessa is amazing. She's the first person who started to really make me think about thrift-as-career and expanding beyond the online market. She's also a freelancer, which warms my heart, because if I asked her, I'd bet we'd have a lot to talk about (crazy writing gigs-oh my!).

3. The Recycle-ista-Seriously changed the way I'd been selling. I looked at what she's sold on eBay and it was all green, meaning she sold things before they expired! I wanted that. I wanted movement. So because of that, I've been way more willing to part with items for less than my asking price. That is what I have "Best Offer" for after all!

4. Parsimonia (Secondhand With Style)-I could look at her photographs all day long. I don't know what it is. I just love them. She does this thing sometimes where she takes a theme and expands on it in different ways, like How to Celebrate National Elephant Day complete with photos of all of the different elephant things she's found and loved. Always lovely.

5. Thrift Shopper for Peace-My kindred spirit in Canada loves MCC and thrift and on top of that, blogs about it! She recently went to Scotland, where there happen to be a ton of great thrift stores. I need to tell her that I met someone last week who lives in Germany and hates their thrift stores, but happens to know that the ones in Scotland are fab. How funny is that?

Put the gun down.

So I'm watching Law & Order, Season 1; good stuff. Less technology, but the same general script. Anyhow, in this episode, two cops are chasing a suspect. One goes into the vacant building making a racket. The other positions himself at the fire escape, and sticks his gun into his pants. Then he looks around, sees some trash cans, and picks up a metal lid (old school trash can). The kid comes flying down the fire escape, gun in hand. The cop waits, then sticks the lid out just as the kid runs by-breaks the kid's nose. Awesome (i.e. the conscious choice not to kill).

I am a pacifist, to the core. I abhor violence. I'm even having to watch myself lately so I don't let my own feelings about violence cloud my relationships in my work. It's important that we allow others to make up their own minds about things, and not assume that we should bring them over to our side of any debate. Right now, I'm dealing with the issue of horror films. It's tough to stay quiet about my own opinion, but after I began doing it, I was better able to hear what the person was saying. Instead of spending my time trying to figure out how to convince them that they should never watch a horror movie ever again, I was spending my time hearing them, a much better option.

Anyhow, the kid's nose was broken, and I'm excited? Yup. Anytime I see someone with a more lethal option at their disposal, put it away and reach for something less lethal, I applaud. Violence will never go away. Human beings will always be stupid and try to hurt each other in any way they can; this is part of being human-we mess up. But we infinitely compound that stupidity when we purchase guns. More people get hurt, instead of fewer. More people live in fear, instead of fewer. Yes, the alternative might be strange (e.g. trash can lid), but it should always be first in our minds, rather than a grievous afterthought.

Lots of labored breathing

My backyard is a mess; years of neglect combined with an "organic" mindset have created a minefield of cockroaches, old trash, and layers of dead grass. I've been going through it a little bit at a time. There is something so therapeutically cathartic about hacking away at the dirt and tearing out weeds.

I was on my hands and knees today in mud trying to dig an old root out. There is something on my hands now that won't completely wash off. The root is still in the ground.

Sometimes I suffer for change and growth. I work my butt off trying to make my life pretty and manageable, but in the end, life does what it wants no matter how hard I work, even when I'm up to my elbows in mud.


I used to want to always be in a restful quiet space in my mind. I thought that guaranteed that I was right with God.

But to live in the world is to live in a discordant place, full of chaos and unpredictability. It is unwise and naive to think that we can clean it up at the end of every day. Sometimes things stay messy. Actually, life is always messy. To think otherwise is to live with blinders, rose-colored glasses, etc.

I'm hoping that this time will pass and that life won't always be as laborious as it is right now, but I know that I have mere moments of tranquility to look forward to, not years. Life is hard, and long, and I am human, and flawed.

Hang in there.