You know that book? It’s a tale about someone who goes on a journey to discover his dream. But by the story’s end, he finds his heart’s desire at home.
Yesterday I went around my hometown and took pictures. After years of running and telling myself that there was no way I could be happy here…I feel as though I’m about to learn otherwise.
This post is for those of you who are liberal, yet call yourself Christian.
You may have fundamentalist peers or loved ones. They may not appreciate the way you express yourself or choose to socialize….
You know something?
When I first began to compose this post, I was feeling bitchy and sarcastic. Now, I just feel sort of sad.
Fundamentalism can be incredibly poisonous.
I went out recently. In fact, I enjoyed myself.
Yet prior to going, I was warned about the consequences of my actions. I felt both shocked and dismayed over what I was told.
My shocked thoughts included…
What year is this?
How old am I?
My dismay was along the lines of…
I cannot believe that the chains of religious fundamentalism are wrapped around some of us so tightly that folks cannot see the error in what they are saying.
People, this life is for living.
The Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, ‘Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is justified by all her children.
Luke 7:34-35
I’m no boozy bad-ass. But there’s no way I’m going to feel bad about enjoying myself.
I’m starting a podcast. The first episode has been recorded and edited.
I’ve been nervous as hell about it. Mainly because I know I made errors when I was putting it together.
Yet in spite of my mistakes I feel like soldiering on. I’m already planning my next show.
Interestingly enough, just now this popped into my head.
Claire, you’re on the right track. Don’t worry about making mistakes. If you’re gonna mistake your way to perfection, so be it.
I don’t expect perfection. In my head I interpreted that sentence’s use of the word as “where you need to be”. And so, fumbling towards my Paradise I go…
Cue this classic advice from Ira Glass.
My calves hate me.
I don’t know what it is.
The last time around everything was sore all of the time.
This time, my calves actively ache as I run. With every stride, it’s as if they’re saying, “I. can’t. be.lieve. you. are. do.ing. this. to. us.”
Well, believe it.
Running is something I’d actually like to become good at.
But not while risking an injury.
I’ve been looking into stretches.
I’ve been wondering about my stride.
They say this sort of thing goes away with time…
And I definitely hope so.
I drafted this post about a week ago. And although I’m done with Natrel, the brand I’m using right now is almost as good. 😉
For a while they’ve been saying that chocolate milk makes an excellent recovery drink.
I bought some at the store, and man…
We’ll see how it does. Price-wise, it sure beats the protein supplement that I bought last month.
For now, though, let us meditate on the taste.
I reckon there are adults who drink chocolate milk all the time. I’m not one of them.
Imagine my surprise after I first downed some of this
earlier today.
I don’t know what chocolate milk is supposed to be like, but this was nothing short of evil.
Note that the box says “1%”. One percent my arse! *whispers* I thought one-percent milk was low in fat. *stops whispering* I tell you, if not for the label, I would’ve thought I was drinking melted chocolate ice-cream.
Is that how it should taste? Because if so, well…Damn.
I felt kind of guilty. On the other hand, as a young lover once said
Give me my sin again. – Romeo
It was on sale. The least I can do is finish the thing.
I was checking out Youtube this morning.
If you know me, then you know that I adore Jill Scott.
There’s one song on her latest album that I regularly skip.
Why?
Its beauty and honesty makes me want to cry.
Still, I figure someone out there might need to hear it.