Real Love is Not Afraid to Bleed

I'm a musician so clearly music moves me. I listen to all types of music. I believe that if something helps evoke an emotion then it is considered music...even simple and sometimes stupid pop songs. Did it make me happy? Or want to dance? The lyrics don't need to evoke emotion or be deep, if the beat makes you smile or boogie then music has been made.

I am hypocritical as well because for years I hated praise and worship music and contemporary Christian music.  The reason I hated it? Because it was actively trying to make me feel a certain emotion. 

Fast forward to present time. I still dislike most praise and worship music but I now listen to k-love and have a Christian itunes radio channel and playlist on my phone. 

I've been feeling a little down lately; my illnesses have been besting me.

So this morning, I took the advice of a friend, Martha Fernandez-Sardina, and did something that I liked. I listened to music. As my "Musical Medicine" playlist picked the soundtrack of my morning, I was half listening while texting with a friend. And ad I heard the words of a song I listened to dozens of times my body was overcome with emotion and tears flowed uncontrollably.

"Jesus take my yoke, take my everything, 

I've counted up the cost and You're worth everything"

He is worth everything.

Every pain

Every discomforting 

Every annoyance 

Every late day to work

Every experience. 

Bad and good.

Because he suffered and died so that I would live. So that the gates of paradise would be opened to me. So that he could spread upon me His Divine Mercy. 

"Because REAL love Is not afraid to bleed"

So nor should I be.

In my fragile human state, I constantly need to be reminded that my suffering is nothing compared to my Lord's. And that my suffering makes me human. Praise be that I can FEEL. The hot sun that makes me sweat. The brush of my furry four legged companion. Stubbing my toe. Sinus pressure. The breeze on a windy night. The cool water of a pool. The inner burning after heartbreak. 

My joint pains.

And the uncontrollable burst of tears that ran down my face this morning.

In my suffering. I am learning.

I'm learning how human I am and how much I need to rely on my God.

If He were to miraculously heal me today, I know I would give thanks...for a few weeks. Then what? Have I learned enough yet to not let my humanity interrupt my thankfulness and reliance on God?

Of course not.

If I had then I would be whole.

Or at least happy to be broken.

And friends, I am not there 100% of the time. But every morning I try again. I say my prayer of thanksgiving and drag myself out of bed.

Now, if only I could say my prayer of thanksgiving and jump out of bed.

And that is my small goal for the rest of this week.

Adjusting my sails...

I received this random mention in a tweet today

Those of you who know me know that I have been trying to shift gears for a while.

I love music, I love teaching private voice lessons, but the more I do it, the more I find myself wanting to do something else. I recently began a twitter to try to promote my blog outside of my circle, it's been a few weeks and I only have 14 followers. But going from 0 followers to 14 complete strangers seems like a little victory to me. 

About a month ago I ran across a community called Blessed is She. These Catholic women have an online presence via email devotionals, blogs, tweets, inspirational photographs, ect, that has also branched out to brunches hosted by willing members of this community. When I read the daily devotionals, which are written by the members, and their bios at the end of the email, I get excited. I want to write them. I did notice they have a blog and invite everyone to contribute and since then every time I am on my computer, that is what I want to do.

So what's the problem?

I am spending my time going from studio to studio and teaching. I don't have the time necessary to write a brilliant blog. I'm having a difficult enough time trying to "perfect" a talk on "pain, healing, and hope" that I have to give for a retreat. But I want to do this. I want to wake up, make some coffee, open up my computer and retweet gems of wisdom, post scripture verses and saints quotes, and write about the things that move me. Then in the afternoon, I want to open my door to teach voice lessons to students who travel to my house because they love it. And select nights a week, I want to continue being active in my ministries at church and in the local young adult Catholic community. I want to go to school and only worry about the piles of Augustine, Aquanias, Lewis, and Merton that I may have to read. So for the past year, I've been trying to figure out how I could work less so that I could have time to do more ministry and still be able to pay bills. It is quite the conundrum. Social media & blogging may be the answer. But I have no clue where to start to make that profitable. Followers/readers is probably where I should begin, So if you are reading this, pick your favorite post of mine and send it out to some people, follow me on twitter @madmosmusings, suggest my blog to others. If I could get up to 100 views per post then maybe I can start advertising and eventually make enough money to pay my rent. That is my goal for now.

So I'm gonna try to start typing a little more and you can start sharing a little more. The whole while I will think about this quote from St. Francis of Assisi, 

it's only fitting, he left behind money for ministry as well:

"Start by doing what is necessary; then do what is possible; 

and suddenly you are doing the impossible."

I am not political...but...

I'm not a political person. I used to vote but I never really knew the issues and candidates and I just didn't understand. I refused to be one of those people who just voted for whatever party they associated with so I registered independent. And eventually I just stopped voting.

I also have many political friends and a good majority of them do not share my conservative beliefs. So being overly meek, I didn't want to engage in discussion. I didn't want arguments and I didn't want to talk about things in which I was not well versed. 

I grew up fairly poor so my parents were democrats. (I realize there is a problem with this statement, bare with me till I make my point) I never understood why it seemed like Catholics had to be Republicans because they were pro-life. My thought was: "No one leader is going to be able to change abortion laws so why use my vote for that one issue?"

As I've grown, as a person and in knowledge, I find that I can see both sides on the two main parties and again, I feel I cannot choose to be associated with one or the other. I identify with both on different issues.

Back to my poor statement, I've received government support, and so have my parents, in the form of food stamps, the free food boxes (commodities?), unemployment, and most recently, I live off of SSI. My illness can be debilitating, making it impossible to do mundane tasks. At times, sitting is even not an option. I've had a job since my freshman year of college and I have tried to work since becoming ill. So it hurts when I hear my conservative friends complain about such forms of government assistance because without it, I would have nothing. When the SSI enters my account, I immediately pay my rent and my student loan payment come out soon after. Then, I am again without money. I do try to work, I teach voice lessons and make $200-500 a month. With that I pay the rest of my bills, charities, and buy food. I know one day God will allow me to work full time without having to worry about my illness, but for now, this is my major source of income. This makes it hard for me to support candidates who have not gone through these kind of troubles. 

I am not political, but I did notice the name Marco Rubio several months back so I looked him up briefly and just stored the info in my head. Last night while having a particularly bad attack from my Fibromyalgia and couldn't sleep, I watched a video of him from CNN. Now if you are Catholic, I know you have seen it. EVERYONE is talking about it. 

I can not convey my feelings more eloquently than this, he moved me. 

Never before has a political speaker made me feel. Clearly, he is pro-life. Clearly he is Catholic. These are the points that caught my attention, however I decided to learn a bit more about it. (a tiny bit) He says his father was a bartender and his mother was a maid. My father was a blue collar worker and while my mother's job looked good on paper, all of the money went to my Catholic education. I had no college savings and had to take out personal loans to attend school. Without them, I would not have started college. He claims to have accrued 100,000 in student loans and that he was still paying them when he entered office. I can relate to that. I also can understand that much of this could have been embellished. 

I mentioned earlier how I could not understand how Catholics could just vote for the pro-life candidate. It baffles me because we are also called to attend to our brothers and sisters in need. Social justice IS focused on life. And somehow, it seems that social justice is laking in many pro-life republican candidates. But my support of life has grown and there is a fire in me to do all I can in my power to end abortion. Because God doesn't want it and through our prayers of faith, He will make it end. So maybe, just maybe, I should support this young Hispanic Catholic, whom I can relate to, who stays fast in his pro-life stance. 

I don't claim to know all of Rubio's stances. I don't claim to know what I'm talking about at all. All I am saying is that he moved me, and that has never happened before. 

Thy Love and Thy Grace are Enough for Me

I've always been drawn to Loyola in one way or another. Growing up, my favorite saints were St. Anthony, St. Therese, St. Francis of Assisi, and St. Dymphna (I often felt like I was loosing my sanity). You would never have heard me mention St. Ignatius. However, I was drawn to Loyola University, and Jesuits..ok ok, maybe I was drawn to Jesuit High School because I thought it was filled with attractive, rich, smart boys. As I said, in one way or another. Sadly didn't get to go to Loyola and I didn't get to date a smart Jesuit boy.
I've always been a super reserved Catholic. Maybe it's because I was raised so traditionally. I hated the WOW worship cds that came out in high school, and when I was in middle school I loved going to adoration. When I went with my dad, he would always give me prayers to say and books to read to spend an hour with Jesus. I just liked going to sit in there. I'm sure my understanding of the blessed sacrament has changed since my pre-teen years, but I knew Jesus was there in that sun-like monstrance. And yes, I knew what a monstrance was because I was in Catholic school. I knew my prayers and I liked saying prayers, I specifically liked novenas and the Divine Mercy Chaplet, but I also always wanted to just talk to God frankly.

The more I've grown, the more that I know God does want us to open our hearts to speak and ears to listen to him just as much as he likes us to recite devotions. So when I go to communion, I like to say the Anima Christi and then just sit there. There are so many distractions, I don't need to block out the crying children or the girl wearing an inappropriate length dress by reciting prayers that will block out God if he's trying to tell me something.

I've heard of the examen for years. I've heard that St. Ignatius was very internal with his praying. It struck a chord with me but I never looked into his life or practices further. However, this year, situation after situation has pulled me into St. Iggy's orbit, so to speak. In a retreat meditation I was leading, I decided to start with an examen. This examen lead me to find all of these Ignatian spirituality resources online just waiting for me. Parallel to this time, I was also made aware of a young adults retreat called Charis that was new to this area. I was invited to be on the first team for this retreat and I have been so ultra focused on St. Ignatius ever since. I guess my prayer life has always been influenced by Matthew 6:6
"But you, when you pray, go into your inner room, close your door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you."
And I'm a bit of a headcase at times, err, I just think, a lot, about everything. It seems like St. Iggy could be a bit of a kook as well. And if he was a little too introverted and overly analytical and still became a saint, I think maybe I'm in good company and just maybe I can live a holy life. As Matthew Kelly says, I just need to start with holy moments.

So I'm trying. And as I try, I continue to accidentally happen upon St. Ignatius in my life. My friends introduced me to this hymn/song "Take Lord, Receive" and I just thought the words were so beautiful. Months later, I found out that this was a prayer of St. Ignatius called the Sucipe. The prayer is as follows:
Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty,
my memory, my understanding,
and my entire will,
All I have and call my own.
You have given all to me.
To you, Lord, I return it.
Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace,
that is enough for me.

When I discovered this, I thought it was so cool that he popped up yet again. I also noticed that the catechumen course I'm taking online mentions examens and methods of St. Ignatius quite frequently. Then just last Friday was his feast day, I wanted to go to mass but couldn't fit it in because of work and proceeded to have a horrible evening. Somehow, everything worked out and then I was blessed with two extremely talented teenage boys as new students. After that refocused my mind, I had a great evening hanging out with a friend.

Just this past Sunday, I was sharing a photo of my dream church for my wedding (yes, I think about the churches even though I know in reality it will not work out that way), and I realized that the "nickname" I grew up calling this, my favorite church, was "Jesuits." It's official title is Immaculate Conception, but it was run by Jesuit priests so the old native folk (new orleanians) called it Jesuits.
I thought and thought, am I making crazy connections? I couldn't find so many commonalities with other saints/religious orders in mu life. Maybe St. Anthony being in my top 5, visiting Lisboa and seeing his church and then  landing in St. Antonio...not to mention the numerous answered prayers...
Still it isn't as intense as this pull I have to all things Ignatian.

I started this 10 week meditation titled The Desires of the Heart and it is basically an introduction of the Ignatian prayer process. Our young adult group is even going to start it at meetings next month.
I love having found this devotion/appreciation/connection to St. Ignatius. I love St. Anthony, St. Francis, and St. Therese, and I always will. They impacted me at different stage of my spiritual development. And now, as I was growing stale, the Holy Spirit lit a fire in my heart and lead me to this wonderful saint. I see many years of my life devoted to spreading the awareness of self and our intimate desires through his examen and prayers. I know, had I listened to my desires early on, I might have never continued on music. But all things in God's time.
And now thanks to the examen, I'm listening.

Click here for more on the life of St. Ignatius of Loyola
Are you a young adult in search of your path? Find a Charis retreat near you!
And for the wonderful website that gave me so many tools go to www.godinallthings.com

Is this the end?

Well, it's been a while. I was sitting here alone at my kitchen table drinking this beautifully dressed Dos Equis and I thought, hey, you should blog. So here we are.

May was busy. So I was looking forward to the mild month of June, but that never happened.

This weekend I was on a team that put on a retreat at my church. It was a great day. We had around 28 rereatants and they all seemed to enjoy themselves. We had a great speaker, my meditation activity went well, and I loved my table. I was so happy after this day! It really helped affirm that I want to do ministry. Speaking about ministry, I am co-facilitating a women's study group called Endow. I am so ridiculously excited about it. It is for small groups of about 15 and we are probably at the limit already. I might have to cut off enrollment! I know 15 isn't a large number but I was worried that it would fail. Which after talking to my spiritual advisory, I am apparently low in the self-esteem. I mean, I feel pretty confident about things, I think of myself as a realist, not a pessimist. But I guess when it all boils down to it, I have little self-esteem. I realized that truth earlier today whilst flipping through profiles on Catholic Match (yes, it's come to this) and whenever I say an attractive guy I wouldn't linger cuz I felt/feel that I had/have no chance, Which I suppose can sound insulting to the guys I do message, but if I message someone, I do find them attractive, they just might not be the conventional attractive. I'm rambling. 

I'm gonna apply to a Catholic university on Friday for Theology. I'm gonna do it. What else am I doing with my life? Music is not a career for my in my sickly state. Not that some ministry position will be any better, but I might be able to find something part time somewhere. 

...wow, Dos Equis is so smooth...

My clothes don't fit so I will be saying goodbye to beer very soon...well tonight I guess.

Goodbye beer...it's been a journey and I will never forget what you have taught me and will always love you, Whitney Houston style. 

I guess I am not prone to write as much because I don't have many followers.
And I have a habit of complaining and no one wants to read that, 

My life has lost excitement and my mind has lost wit.

I have lost my voice.

Is it time to put Mad Mo's Musings to rest? 

Oh someone tell me! 

The answer is yes, for tonight anyway, my glass is empty and my eyes are heavy.

Time for some sleep so I can wake up early tomorrow and try to keep my commitment to morning prayer time.

If you are a reader, let me know if you want to keep reading my dull words!

Comment your thoughts below.

nite nite

Mo

It's weather like today's that make San Antonio so endearing.

Warm sun, breezy shade, blue skies, green grass, and fluffy clouds that look as if they were painted by Bob Ross. There's more though, recently I came to the realization that this city is now my home.

Sure, people tend to stay in the city they graduated in until they move away to their dream job or go back to the city where they were reared, but this is different. I never wanted to move to Texas and I always planned on moving after I collected my extra degree. Now, however, moving away from here would be painful. After my break-up, I thought moving would be easier since I stayed here for him. He never asked me to stay, but what we had was good and I couldn't just leave and not see it through. Since then, I have made friendships that are enriching my life. Seriously, I can not express enough how amazing my life is because of these people, some whom I have barely known a year. And I realize a lot can take place and change in a year. This time last year, I was in love, hearing wedding bells and picking out names for children. This year, I'm renting a house with roommates, have arthritis, don't have a church job (and I'm not looking, what!?!), I spend most of my time on church property, and have over twenty kids who's voices are in my care and sometimes that scares me. Most importantly, I am surrounded by people who love me for who I am, who I was raised to be. These people support me to do my best in everything instead of bringing me down or thinking my views on life are too conservative.

I started this blog as a "twenty-something" completely confused and a little shy about being a bold follower of my faith. I lived in an apologetic state, knowing I didn't fit in with this culture of death and pleasure, I didn't want to step on anyone's toes. Eventually, apologizing for who I was made me unable to know myself. Forgetting that relying in God for every possible situation or emotion took away my sense of self. Now, my 20s are gone. Clearly I didn't change over night, but now I know who I am, I know my faith won't be shaken, I am strong, and I know my Savior loves me with a love so infinite I could never fully grasp it. With Him as a model, I know that my goal in life is to love everyone as He did, even though my ability to love is minuscule compared to His. Let me be clear, I still have no clue what I'm supposed to do as a career, or even if I'm supposed to have a family. What I do know is that I'm using my gifts to help people worship, to bring young adults together, to help people feel comfortable and wanted, to help people become the best versions of themselves, and again, to love.

Life's not perfect, recent stress has given me emotional break downs. Fully trusting 100% of the time is so hard. So every time I loose it, I collect myself the next day and start over. Being surrounded by my wonderful faith community sure has made this easier to do.

Other notes about my life:
As a HS voice teacher, when summer comes, so does unemployment. 3 months of no income. Last summer a temp job popped up that more than covered my lack of funds. This year, I didn't think the conundrum would be so easy. You see, I like this teaching gig, and I have fallen in love with all of my kids, I can't just drop them for a full time desk job (And there is NO WAY i'm gonna work a summer retail job). So I tried not to get distraught and I tried not to start a job search, trusting that i was indeed doing the work God intended me to do and that either I would be able to save for the summer or that money would come. As if someone handed me a job on a platter, a friend from grad school texted me that a mutual friend needed a voice teacher at a small music studio on my side of town. After telling this friend I was interested, he gave me glowing recommendations to not one but two studios. And just like that, I have two new jobs, ones that will not end during the summer. I also was asked to fill in for a soprano at her church gig for a month right at the beginning of summer.
God wants us to succeed! When we rely on him, he grants us not only grace but opportunities. It is so hard to remember this when getting bogged down with the stress and anxieties of everyday life and that is why I am so very glad to have the amazing support system that I have found. Their constant reminders and example helps me be their reminder and example. What beautiful symbiosis we have.

"Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy from carousing and drunkenness and the anxieties of daily life, and that day catch you by surprise like a trap. For that day will assault everyone who lives on the face of the earth."

Luke 21:34-35

Of Kings and Cake

“To encapsulate the notion of Mardi Gras as nothing more than a big drunk is to take the simple and stupid way out, and I, for one, am getting tired of staying stuck on simple and stupid.

Mardi Gras is not a parade. Mardi Gras is not girls flashing on French Quarter balconies. Mardi Gras is not an alcoholic binge.

Mardi Gras is bars and restaurants changing out all the CD's in their jukeboxes to Professor Longhair and the Neville Brothers, and it is annual front-porch crawfish boils hours before the parades so your stomach and attitude reach a state of grace, and it is returning to the same street corner, year after year, and standing next to the same people, year after year--people whose names you may or may not even know but you've watched their kids grow up in this public tableau and when they're not there, you wonder: Where are those guys this year?

It is dressing your dog in a stupid costume and cheering when the marching bands go crazy and clapping and saluting the military bands when they crisply snap to.

Now that part, more than ever.

It's mad piano professors converging on our city from all over the world and banging the 88's until dawn and laughing at the hairy-shouldered men in dresses too tight and stalking the Indians under Claiborne overpass and thrilling the years you find them and lamenting the years you don't and promising yourself you will next year.

It's wearing frightful color combination in public and rolling your eyes at the guy in your office who--like clockwork, year after year--denies that he got the baby in the king cake and now someone else has to pony up the ten bucks for the next one.

Mardi Gras is the love of life. It is the harmonic convergence of our food, our music, our creativity, our eccentricity, our neighborhoods, and our joy of living. All at once.” 

― Chris Rose, 1 Dead in Attic: Post-Katrina Stories

Every year around this time I get this little gloomy cloud over my head. No matter how good of a day/week/night I've had, the pains of homesickness creep slowly into my body. About 4 weeks after Epiphany, I remember my roots, I crave sugary sweet colorful cinnamon bread and the feel of beer soaked strands of plastic forcefully slapping me in my face. I long to hear loud bass drums and tubas, the clicking of dance boots, the smell of horses and the occasional sun soaked urine. These are all the superficial physical traits that are not necessarily good or bad, they just "are" and it's what I know.

Missing Mardi Gras for me is much more than missing the acts of drinking and eating lots of food surrounded by strangers who are also your new best friends. It's more that chilling with my family bundled up in a car to escape the cold wind while waiting for a parade to reach us. For me, Mardi Gras is almost a spiritual experience. Now I know my Mardi Gras history, and no, my spiritual comment has nothing to do with the actual religious side of Mardi Gras. 

I was, am, a weird kid. Every year at my grade school we had Mardi Gras float decorating contests. Thinking of a theme and getting my parents to help me pull it off got me the win multiple times. I remember in 3rd grade we had to do a project on the history of something. I, of course, chose Mardi Gras. I spent hours in the main library downtown doing research and making copies of picture of floats and ball invitations. My poster looked amazing and I learned so much.

My love of Mardi Gras is only rivaled by my love of Halloween. Both holidays are celebrated before a big church feast, and both holidays include masking. Now, a psychiatrist would probably have something to say about my favorite holidays revolving around dressing in costume and my career of choice involving dressing up as a character, and that's ok. I figure there is some deep seeded issue that results in my love of the mask but it doesn't really matter. I'm a functional member of society. 

Masks

I love Masks

And costumes

And beautiful sparkly gowns

And rhinestone laden scepters and crowns

The classic Mardi Gras ball

An event that I have never attended and may never attend in my life.

I grew up on PBS and I can recall the documentary where they show a Rex ball like I watched it yesterday. 

The court walking in, the pomp, the majesty, sigh, I wanted to be one of those maids. The mysticism of Mardi Gras has always intrigued me. I love when the king is secret. I love the old  ornate invitations. I love the secrecy that used to be a part of he old krewes. These are things that are not really part of contemporary celebrations of Mardi Gras, but for me, it is still an element, even if I've only read about it. 

I long to be in the krewe of Muses. I long to marry someone in another parade and have the possibility of being the queen. I long for the possibility of getting invited to an exclusive ball, not buying a $75+ concert ticket to rock out with a super krewe (though I wanna do that too, i'm all about the Orpheuscapade and some Harry Connick Jr.)

Maybe I'm just having one of those weeks where I can't see myself starting a life anywhere but Louisiana, maybe that's why no one here in TX is ever interested in the slim possibility of starting a life with me. Maybe I belong in the motherland, surrounded by her majesty the Mississippi and the vastness of Lake Pontchartrain. Maybe after tuesday I will go back to my happily busy world of church events and teaching. 

But this feeling will never die, and I hope to rest my bones inside of St. Roch Cemetery with the rest of my ancestors, because, to echo the phrase of Frank Davis, may he rest in peace, I long to be "Naturally N'awlins"

And to close with another Chris Rose quote that is near and dear to my heart...

“Dear America,

I suppose we should introduce ourselves: We're South Louisiana...You probably already know that we talk funny and listen to strange music and eat things you'd probably hire an exterminator to get out of your yard. 

We dance even if there's no radio. We drink at funerals. We talk too much and laugh too loud and live too large and, frankly,we're suspicious of others who don't.”

"Insert Cheesy Michael W. Smith Song Title Here"

I started going to these events for Catholic young adults. I wanted to meet people and do things. I have 4 people I spend time with regularly and only one of them really likes to go places. So I figured even if I don't need new bosom buddies, I could use some casual friends, with whom I share common beliefs, that would be willing to do things that don't involve sitting on the couch watching Netflix (an act I do actually love). Since my active person renaissance has commenced, I have not seen home much at all and I have been enjoying that busy feeling of yore. So what's the problem? All these "young" people seem to have their lives together. They have nice cars, houses, salaries, careers, expendable income, some have families, fiancees, and life experiences I couldn't touch with a stick. (Let's not forget that I have Katrina and a house fire, so that's something, I guess) What's worse is that people who were working on their undergrad while I was getting my useless 2nd Master are now teaching or student teaching and they all seem to have it together much more than me.

I'm not sure what I am doing wrong.
I'm not sure why, at 29, I am still living from pay check to pay check, worried about unpaid medical bills, how I'm gonna afford AIP friendly food, freaking out about my next living situation, and begging the credit gods to raise my score. No where in sight is an opportunity to move up in the world. What skills do I have? What did I spend 10 years in school for? I feel prepared for nothing. I feel qualified for nothing.

I am having more bad teaching days than good. I feel like I loose 1 student a week. I love the flexibility of teaching but I want stability in income. I feel like I want to eat my cake and I can't.

I am glad I am surrounded by supportive friends, even those far away. And without my faith I'm pretty sure I would have given up by now.
But some weeks I just need to know where this journey is taking me. I need to know if I am actually listening to what my God wants me to do. And right now, I don't know.
ACTS retreat this week, so i'll keep my ears open.

Nostalgia is a b*#@$

I'm pretty happy. My biggest stresses in life include sharing bathrooms with high school girls, looking for a new place to live, and having too many events I want to attend. Oh the horror right?
And before today I wasn't sick. But my aches & pains on top of a cold prevented me from going to work today. A decision I still regret even though it was probably a good idea to rest.
But feeling bad makes me want to be comforted and also makes me remember who used to comfort me and having a cold makes me want caldo de pollo. I can't ever want, or think about caldo without attaching it to a certain person. It's like remembering where you you were when you first heard a song that became one of your favorites. The memory is set in stone.  Also, instagram is something I should not flip through unless I am completely of sound mind.  Which clearly, when I am sick, I am not.

So while soaking in the tub, hoping to rid myself of creaking joints and  inflamed tissue, I started to write. I'm not gonna edit anything or make anything more poetic. These are my thoughts and I needed to get them out but I don't need to dwell on them by perfecting the prose cuz that'll just make it worse.  I am happy. Just feeling  a bit under the weather today.


Everything is easier now
Apathy has set in
I still want to cut all ties
I still sometimes think there were lies
But all I want is for you to be gone

You're out of sight,
Mostly out of mind
Except for the ghost of former happiness trolling images

Sometimes I sink back and wonder was it all that bad
When did it fade away
Then I read the captions and instead
I wonder if anything was ever really there at all

I think you wanted to play house
You wanted to have someone to come home to
Dinner on the table
Hugs at the door
Dog in your lap

You wanted someone to spoil
So much extra money
You needed to spend it on something
Someone
Why not pick me

You knew it was over before I convinced myself
But you wouldn't let go
You muddied the water
You gave me hope
What a lie we were

And I loved you
And I showed it
And I lived it
And I care
And I want you gone

But you won't leave
And you won't loose contact
But you won't stay in touch
Three final strands of thread that refuse to pop
The suture needed to sew up my heart

Keep it simple stupid

I have written two incomplete blog posts on my phone. I just can't seem to make the time to write. So I went to Barnes & Noble and picked out a new journal. It's not fancy and leather but it's also doesn't have mustaches or owls on it. It is simple.

I got it so that I could keep a daily journal. Not a diary to talk about my broken heart or dating life (I already have one of those tucked neatly away from the world), but a journal to write about inspirations of the day, negative thoughts I have, prayers, scriptures, song lyrics that touched me...ect.
Today, for example, I had an uneasy felling about situations and felt like pushing everyone away. I sat and wrote about it and as I read the words I penned, I was calmed by scripture popping into my head. The entry ended with my one of my favorite verses and a prayer from me. And then, I wasn't worried anymore, It also just feels so good to write. The feel of a pen with smooth, flowing gel ink onto a thick piece of paper is so nostalgic to me. It reminds me of my days as a wanna be poet and getting accepted into our arts high school NOCCA for the summer program in creative writing. I did it two summers in a row, although I really longed to be accepted into the music program. As usual, God knows whats up. Some of my most peaceful serene memories stem from sitting at a table in the brick walled corner of the converted warehouse, looking out the window at the beautiful abandoned church Holy Trinity. I had so many memories of going to that church with my parents when I was a kid that seeing it sit there in ruins saddened me. That pretty steeple was the inspiration behind several of those journal entries, I still have that dark blue marble journal that was given to us the first day of class...one of the few things I haphazardly saved before the storm. When I get the urge to open it up and read my entries, I remember why I was accepted. Teenage angst didn't show up much in my personality but in my writing I let all my inhibitions go. I was intense, silly, ambitious, and hopelessly naive. And as usual I am completely off topic. This is why I studied music and not creative writing in college. A closet extrovert, I can still feel and let the true self that I hide come out when I'm on stage. That's why I have this. The whole reason my blog has entered my mind today is because I found a poem I wrote in Nov 2013 the draft section of my gmail. It was really good. I was going to post it but as I scrolled through my documented memories, I see that I already have.
My journal entries from yesterday and today, along with the poem I found made me miss writing down my thoughts, Often when I go back and read things months, years later, I find my former self ridiculously doe eyed and annoying. I wonder to myself, "why did I care," or "why didn't  I know better," or mostly "damn, I complain a lot." Today I relived several moments, some made me giggle and some almost brought tears to my eyes, but they're there. I can relive the good moments along with the bad whenever I want to. And more importantly, It brought me back here to just let the brain flow as my finger type. I had forgotten how that felt as I got bogged down in updating my tiny audience with my insignificant life changes. I thought "I started this blog to write about my singing" when in reality I started this blog to document where God was leading me, and as of yet, He hasn't led me to the stage. But He has given me amazing friends who love to serve Him with the gift of music that he has given us. I've made bonds for life, helped revive a ministry, and am learning all over again who I am supposed to rely on. And that is what I am supposed to write about, run-on sentences and all (I hope they don't hurt you too much Mel).
I noticed that my first mention of being a religion teacher came to me in February of last year...almost a year has passed and I've done nothing about it. I did however begin teaching CCD, and I kind of love it. The words of my high school principal, Sr. Camille Ann, come to mind: "Now is the time, to live, to learn, and to love." I've spend the past year living, learning and loving, but there is always more to learn, more people to love, and much more life to live than I am living. I am surviving and using my degree and falling in love with my sweet voiced students, but I need to make my next step in life. Slowly but surely I am able to wake up in the mornings ad not want to go back to bed. 75% of the time I remember to thank God for what He is already doing in my life, my "prayer of faith" as my spiritual adviser calls it. So now is the time, what's next, where am I living in 2 months, where am I living in 6 months, when the falls comes, will I still be teaching high school kids for pennies and worried about paying my loans?
I guess a simple phone call to the archdiocese tomorrow to see what I need to do to be a teacher will be step one. Who knows, it might take another year of voice lessons while I get prepared to teach elementary school religion, or I might be doing something else entirely. Either way, I'll be here, making spelling mistakes, gramatical errors, run-on sentences and writing about nothing at all and everything at the same time.