thinking slightly jew...ish

ever since the season premier of 'grey's anatomy' i've been thinking like a jew. well, kind of. i don't really know exactly what that means, but my thoughts keep going back to them.

in the first episode we find izzy lying on the floor. her fiance has just died and can't remove herself from the floor. the roommates all lie next to her trying to convince her to get up and change out of her prom dress (you have to see the episode). finally christina, the ultra-competitive hard-ass asian jew goes in. she's lying there on the floor with izzy and begins to tell her that maybe they could do shiva...the jewish practice of mourning which includes only sitting on low stools or the floor and no...clean clothes.

i remember taking my first judaism class and being completely infatuated with it. i loved my professor and his 2 sons. i took the class when we all read in the news of the terrible things being done to jewish synagogues-all the mean writing on their buildings and vandalization. i connected with my professor. i felt as if he understood the beginning of our story and i understood part of the end. together...we were family.

i'm taking greek right now and totally loving it. it's one of the hardest classes i've taken but so worth it. i really enjoy my professor too...he's helping do a new translation of the bible. for some reason, i like that. i like that i go to a school that isn't afraid of that.

he told us about the 'christian shema' and made us read it in greek out loud.

the jewish shema comes mostly out of deuteronomy and the key verse most of us may have heard is: 'Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One.'

and this is the follow up for those of us that believe in jesus: 'For even if there are so-called gods, whether in heaven or on earth (as indeed there are many "gods" and many "lords"), yet for us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live.'

i've been reciting to myself in the greek all week. i like it...a lot.

and lastly i've been thinking about shabbat. it's a hard concept for me, as i'm sure it is for most americans. for us, the jews have more restrictions on shabbat than any other time. we think how hard they must have it...having to obey all those rules, but if you ask one, you get quite a different answer. this is the day they look forward to. although it is a day of prayer...they pray everyday. they consider it a day of feasting-they eat more luxuriously than usual and the same is said about prayer...it's luxurious. it's freedom. they are free...free to worship and just........

be.

i'm remember my judaism professor telling us about what was prohibited on shabbat...'melachah'. this word is usually translated as 'work', but for jews it holds a deeper meaning: the kind of work that is creative, or that exercises control or dominion over your environment. God rested from creating...from controlling.

i want that.

i want to have a day where i don't control.

yesterday i was driving to school (i leave the house at 6:45am which is early for us college kids) and i saw one of the most beautiful sunrises. you know what rain looks like when it's coming down in sheets far off in the distance? you can see it moving and its as if lines were flowing at an angle from the sky? that's what the sunlight looked like.

it was raining sunshine.

it wasn't just in one place though, it was everywhere out in the distance. every direction i turned my head i saw sunlight filtering through the clouds.

as i turned down 59 almost to school i found that i couldn't seen the shards of sunlight anymore...i was in it. i was driving in the rain i had seen before and it was amazing.

it was a present...something much bigger than i orchestrated that, and i'm thankful for it.

i'm thankful for shiva...shema...and shabbat.

i'm thankful for being in a place that allows me to appreciate aspects of my neighbors culture.

i'm thankful that right now...on this saturday (or this sabbath) i'm stuck in a house with a napping kiddo upstairs. we're going to the park to play when he wakes up and maybe a swim in the pool. i have nothing to do but play with him. nothing to contol...nowhere to go.

i'm thankful that today i can just...be.

wrestle

i cannot find God.

i'm trying...quite desperately. i've even demanded that he show up...but...nothing.

it's definitely not like the game that ken, rob bell, and others have described. this is not hide and seek. i am not catching glimpses of God as he runs around the next corner. i'm not even sure i have the rules to this game right...or that i know there's anyone else playing.

i don't know what this means for me. i don't know how long to wait.
i heard about ken's sermon last sunday. how he asked everyone to draw what they thought God looked like or their version of God, or something like that. it got me thinking...what in the world would i have put? i don't think i could have...
what did others draw? what do they see? a man? a big heart? glue?

this is hard to talk about. i don't really know how to even form it into words though i've been thinking about it constantly.

ryan and i talked about jesus the other night.
for me, i've thought of 'coming to jesus' or the 'pathway to heaven' as following his example. i've believed that all people...whether they know it or not...have a chance to get into heaven. that they don't necessarily have to accept jesus to be granted entrance through those pearly gates, they just have to live the life he showed us. i want to think Gandhi got it. i want to think that my agnostic friends that have no idea what they believe yet have better hearts than most christians will get in. i want to believe that when j.c. said 'way, truth, and life' he was a lot more inclusive than we tend to think, and that he was more concerned with our way of life than our belief in him.

but ryan made a good point and i'm afraid i'll do a terrible job of restating it....but, what's the point in simply following an example? where's the relationship in that? he asked me what it would be like to follow ken's example...though i find it to be good and honest...without ever having known him. without having a relationship...without loving him.
without feeling his love.

there's something cold about just wanting to follow an example. there has to be more.

this is also a hard subject for me: karen once posed a question about what God's love feels like. i'm with her...i've felt love through other people around me, but is that the best example? i want to feel the love of God...can someone draw that for me? i'd like to see a picture of it.

i want to see. i need to see.
because i don't, and that worries me.

i'm still looking around in my peripheral vision for God. maybe ryan is right and maybe 99.9% of the population really haven't experienced a relationship with God.
i've been good at talking about it and vomiting back up what others told me a relationship with God should look like...but isn't it ironic that i should be at such a place?
i want to talk with God and not feel like i'm talking to myself.

i want to sing worship songs and really mean it.
i want to hear him...in my heart or in my ears.
is this just me needing proof? has my doubt gone too far? because i've scared myself. i've come to a place i never thought i'd be....i'm wondering where God is.

"on my worst nights i lay in bed feeling like a single parent unable to sleep because i knew i did not have enough love in me to go around. God was the boundless lover, but for many people God was the parent who had left.

they still read about him in the bible and sang about him in hymns.

they still believed in his reality, which made it even harder to accept his apparent lack of interest in them.

they waited for messages from him that did not arrive.

they prepared their hearts for meetings that never happened.

they listened to other christians speak as if God showed up every night for supper, leaving them to wonder what they had done wrong to make God go off and start another family...

...we were engaged in a more ancient drama, wrestling far more primitive fears.

because i was wedded to the One who was gone, i stood in for him.

i took many of the blows intended for him and received much of the adulation.

i kept old stories about him alive and told some new ones as proof of his ongoing vitality.

i blessed, fed, and forgave the children in his name, reassuring them that their fears were ungrounded and hopes well placed.

the unspoken deal, i think, was that as long as i did this, no one would openly question God's love or existence. as long as i filled in, no one would ask where God was or why he was not more attentive."

-leaving church, bb taylor

i've never had a parent leave. i've had unconditional love that most kids never get.

right now as i nanny for 2 1/2 weeks i've learned a lot of what she's talking about.

i'm exhausted...especially of covering for the absent parents.

i'm tired of people telling me stories in his absence.

i'm tired of telling them too.

i'm tired of wrestling with those primitive fears in an ancient drama.

i'm just....tired.

halloween weather

i want candy corn so bad i can taste it.

it's cloudy and a bit windy out...and the sun hasn't come out to play all day.

i really want hot chocolate...with marshmallows.

i want to go play in the park with a scarf on

and look at all the colors changing in the trees.

i want a crackling fire.

i want to hold someone's hand and skip through piles of leaves laughing until my sides hurt.

i want my family around me.

i'm still nannying and the youngest, alexander ('zander' by me) and i have been lying on the couch all day. i think he's coming down with something...he's being way more cuddly than usual. the older two just got home and we're trying to decide what costumes we want to wear for halloween. olivia (the 7 year old) just suggested we go trick-or-treating tonight.

i desperately want to, but i don't know that the neighbors would appreciate our whim.

sigh...fall is here.

my families

recently i've been nannying for some friends. they're in italy...jerks. their kids are adorable though, so it's okay. it's got me thinking about family...or in my case, the plural.

i have my family i've been lucky enough to be born into.

i'm lucky enough to have parents still married. i don't say lucky for the simple fact that they're together, but because they still love each other.

parents who are showing me what it can look like to go through hell and back and still...at the end of the day...say 'we made it and we're still in love.'

i'm lucky to have a younger sister that is much more brilliant than i. she's off being beautiful and independent in austin at UT. she was one of those girls that was blessed to be pretty AND smart. i hated those girls...but april gets away with it. i look up to her. she and her boyfriend have been together for almost 5 years and she's held her ground despite my families sometimes harsh stance with her boy. she's off doing wonderful things, and i adore her.

i'm lucky to have a younger brother who is growing up too fast. he's doing things way earlier than i ever got to, but he's so amazingly mature about it. i've always worried he'd get into the wrong stuff, but he's always been the one to say no. it honestly surprises me sometimes how diligent he has been against some of the pressure from his friends. and even though he had a rough couple of teen years, he's blossomed beautifully. don't tell him that though...i like to make him think he's tough.

i'm lucky to have wellspring.

an environment that constantly affirms that regardless of anything, they will be there. sometimes there will be smiles at my growth and good work, and other times there will be a pair of arms ready to hold me after a failure i've realized.

sometimes tears.

sometimes uncontrollable laughter.

sometimes just silence and awe at the wonder of it all.

i have a crazy aunts in wellspring.

you know, the fun ones that drives the amazing cars and will give you chocolate after midnight? the ones that will talk with you about boys, take you out to a nice dinner and let you feel like an adult, listen to your deepest darkest secrets and promises not to tell mom and dad. ones that read your blogs and then call you to make sure you're really okay. ones that remember your birthdays and give you exactly what you want (chocolate again).

i have fun uncles too. guys that are trying to so hard to set good examples. men i can look up to. guys that can give me a listening ear but also send me awesome internet clips or news articles. they relate the best way they know how and i'm just happy they take notice of me.

i also have older siblings.

ones that have experienced parts of life that i'm about to embark on. ones that i can relate really well too, and yet i always feel like they've got a watchful eye on me. they're hip and fun and are way cooler than i can ever hope to be.

i've also got other sets of mommies and daddies.

women and men that care for me like their own kids. they make sure i'm well fed, well rested, and even tuck me in at night. they care when a boy hurts my feelings and they want to see me succeed. they have a great balance of freedom and jealousy. they want to keep me around but make sure i know it's okay to go out and play every once in awhile.

i'm lucky have a wonderful boyfriend who has a wonderful family.

they're great people. i'm able to take a nap in one of their many open beds and then help set the dinner table. they make sure i know their door is open and that i'm welcome. it's nice to know that i'm not an evil girl trying to steal their boy away. i'm just another member of the clan. i like that best. i like feeling like another one of the many daughters more than a girlfriend.

i'm listening to winnie the pooh talk to christopher robbin right now as i wait on the littlest one to finally decide he's sleepy enough to let me tell him a bedtime story.

"christopher robbin...my favorite part of the day is when you and me become we."

i'm lucky enough to have lots of "we's".

all i can say

i'm tired

so tired from walking

and i'm so alone

and the dark is creeping in

creeping up to swallow me

i think i'll stop

and rest here awhile

and didn't you see me cryin?

and didn't you hear me call your name?

wasn't it you I gave my heart to?

i wish you'd remember where you sat it down

and this is all that i can say right now

and this is all that i can give

-crowder

...

i'm standing in ken's office...holding on to his desk...hoping to God i don't fall down.

i posted a few days ago about the 'paradox' that i had found myself in. i thought that the experience that i had gone through was over and that life would begin to return to normal. i thought that whatever lesson God has wanted to teach me was finished and i could go out and play now.

i was wrong.

there is a scene from 'grey's anatomy' that keeps playing in my mind. some girl is lying on the operating table...something horrible has happened to her...and the doctors just...stop. they tell her family that her body needs to catch up with all the trauma that has occurred. she needs time to rest, and the family is just sitting there...wondering how in the world this is okay. how is it possible.

when i walked into ken's office yesterday i did not expect to cry again, but i sat there for a minute and i got all teared up. i remember a couple of times growing up when something similar would happen with my dad. i'd have just gone through something really hard...a break-up or fight with a friend, and i'd see my dad and i'd just start to cry. he wouldn't have to say anything or hold me or try to fix it...i would just have to see him. it was as if i had finally walked into a place where i could let go. i could give up control for a minute because i was in a safe place. somewhere i didn't have to be strong or tough anymore...i could just be a little girl.

ken and i talked about how we all say that we're 'broken' and that we all need to be healed, but few of us actually believe it. for most of us, in the back of our minds we think that others are more broken and perhaps we're just a little cracked around the edges. that's what i thought. i thought that for the most part...i was okay.

he said that the first time he really understood what this looked like was when the head pastor of the church he was youth ministering at died. he found himself in something he couldn't simply 'get over'....and he began the journey.

i'm wondering if i should be thankful that no one had to die. i feel as if all the things i've been getting upset about are all ridiculous. things that i could normally deal with so easily. life should be good right now...i should be happy. i wonder if someone had died that i wouldn't just pass everything off as grief and mourning. i wonder if i would see what is happening to me. what in the world is happening to me?

what's so humorous and ironic about all of this is that i didn't believe it. i asked God to help me understand what my friend ryan means when he talks about 'suffering' but i didn't want God to do it to me...or in me. i just wanted to see it, or read it in a book, or hear it clearly. i didn't want to feel it. i didn't want to...and i don't want to. i'm stubborn as a mule sometimes but right now i feel as if i'm in a fight i simply cannot win. just when i thought it was okay to get up from off the ground....that the fighting had ended and the coast was clear...i get knocked down again. i can feel my ribs cracking and i don't know how to make it stop. i think that i might come away from this with more than just a limp.

the funny thing is i feel silly for all of it. so very, very foolish. there are so many others around me going through much harder things than my experience. but this is my reality. i'm in it and i'm living it and it is hard.

ken asked me awhile back if a prayed. my initial response was 'of course', but then i thought about it. did he mean, do i have some format of conversation that i follow when speaking to the almighty? did i give...adoration, confession, thanksgiving, s....i can't remember the s. did i do all that? sure. did i know what in the world i was saying? no.

the funny thing is...i don't even know who i'm talking to. i know what the bible says about God and i know what others say about him based on their own experiences...but i do not know...i can't even finish the sentence.

i just...don't...know.

sometimes i wonder if i pretended that God didn't exist that he would cease to exist for me. is that possible? or is it like giving someone the silent treatment...you can ignore and pretend all you want but they're still in the room...in the corner of your peripheral vision. just waiting. but i can't see God in my peripherals. i don't know what he looks like...i don't know who i'm talking to when i try to pray. but i want to. i want to know.

this is all so very hard for me to say...or type...out loud. i want to be a pastor one day and i've been told that i might be an okay one. so how in the world do i walk away from this? what do we do? how do we know anything anymore???

so that's where i'm at. i'm exhausted. hurt. puffy-eyed. frustrated. nauseous. mad. sad. humiliated. scared. fed up. pissed off. tired.

not broken...but breaking.

my insides

"there is a great saying in the recovery movement: 'wherever you go, there you are.'

'your job is the relentless pursuit of who God has made you to be. and anything else you do is sin and you need to repent of it.'

and it is possible to be a good christian and go to church services and sing the right songs and jump through the right hoops and never let jesus heal your soul.

...so many leaders have never descended into the depths of their own souls. they haven't done the hard, difficult, gut-wrenching work of shining the bright lights on all of the years of baggage and destructive messages.

my experience has been that very few people do the long hard work of the soul. maybe that's why jesus said the way is narrow...

i see communities embracing their brokenness and the brokenness of their leaders, and healing is taking place.

i see honesty.

i see people who want to be fully alive.

i'm learning that very few people live from their heart.

very few live connected with their soul.

and those few who do the difficult work, who stare their junk in the face, who get counsel, who let jesus into all of the rooms in their soul that no one else ever goes in, they make a difference.

they are pursuing wholeness and shalom, and its contagious. they inspire me to keep going.

i continue to dig up things and process new insights...and learn about my insides."

-bell VE

mess of contradiction

"it's not so much that the christian faith has a lot to do with paradoxes. it's that it is a lot of paradoxes. and we cannot resolve a paradox. we have to let it be what it is."

-rob bell velvet elvis

...and yes, that picture is what my head feels like sometimes.

paradox (part II)

...i'm crying...

i'm telling ryan about the fight with the ex.

about the awesome church gathering.

about how tired & sore i am.

about running into one of his frat brothers and the funny look he gave me.

about getting my feelings hurt be people i love.

about losing my apartment.

about having to rush around today.

about how happy i am with wellspring.

about how mad i am about stupid facebook.

about how i hate being young and reckless.

about how i wish i could stop thinking in terms of "good and bad", "black and white", "right and wrong".

about how i wish i could accept others where they are and what they believe.

about being frustrated with myself.

it's a roller coaster. i'm letting all of this out and i'm crying and it...hurts.

...you are out of control...

i told ryan that sometimes i feel like a little kid that's fighting with God over a toy. during the week God will try to pull away but i'm strong enough to tug back.

then he yanks harder and i start to get annoyed.

suddenly we're in full-on tug-o-war and i'm losing.

then i'm like a little kid: i cry. i throw a fit. i pout.

this is the biggest issue for me right now and i'm trying to figure out why. i'm trying to decide why i doubt. why i can't let God have it. why the 'toy' is so important to hang on to...to fight over.

i'm unpacking it out loud and i find myself arriving at some painful things that happened in my past. moments where i trusted God and thought that he had done something great in my life...where people around me seemed to be getting better... getting healthier. then it would all come crashing down and i would be devastated. it was like the rug got pulled out of under me.

i began to be calloused. i began to think God was at fault. that God didn't deliver...that he wouldn't. i didn't trust him...i don't even now. i think i can do better.

i want to be in control.

it's weekends like these that teach me. moments of weakness that God uses. i'm whittled down until i can't fight anymore. i have no choice but to sit and listen. God is saying big things to me...more than i can explain here.

weird.

but awesome. i like it and i hate it all at once. its painful yet liberating. its...so...God. i found myself in the paradox this weekend. the..."ohhh, now i get it." right now the clouds are rolling back and clarity is coming. tomorrow i'll be thankful for all this...maybe even the day after that too. then i'll try to gain control again...we'll fight over the toy and i'll be here again. it's part of growing up, i guess. but maybe, just maybe, that toy will start looking less and less desirable. perhaps i'll loosen my grip. perhaps this is okay. perhaps...

the paradox

my body is completely exhausted. it actually hurts to type.

my legs hurt...my eyes burn...i can barely lift my arms and i think i may have broken a toe...

but today was a beautiful day. in fact, this whole weekend has been amazing....

thursday:

got to hang out with ryan almost all day. met his fraternity brothers (scary). figured out who 'phi mu' was (they're the hot chicks that wear short skirts with their cute sorority t-shirts). i suddenly felt like i was in 'grease' and it was made obvious that i am not a 'pink lady'.

...but it's ok. you're in control.

went to group w/ ryan. awesome conversation...mostly about who gets to go to heaven. i feel safe here. thank God i found these people.

friday:

went to class...i'm studying greek. perhaps that says enough, but i'm way excited. my prof is great and this could possibly be the coolest class i've ever taken.

talked with dr. furr (my fav) he was passing me in the student center, munching on some pizza.

i caught his eye.
he asked to sit.
i said 'of course'.
he saw my book: velvet elvis.
he asked what it was about.
i begin...

went to work...terrible. we were so busy and there were moments i wanted to cry. the whole time thinking...'i should be at my apartment packing'.

went to bed at 2 a.m.

...still in control.

saturday:

started packing. got to hang out with my fam a bit. watched my brothers face glow as he told my friend rodney that he feels like rod is family...his brother.

packed and moved all day....all day.

found myself at one point alone in the apartment....everyone else had gone home or to the storage place.
i looked around at the emptiness.
i felt empty inside.
when did it become alright to move back home? suddenly i'm not okay with this.
too late juli.
it's sad, but something in my head says that it's ok.
this is ok

talked to an old friend and then ryan. lots of old "relationship" stuff got brought up...not exactly fun conversation.

my body hurts...i fell asleep and forgot to turn the light off. nice.

...control...

sunday:

woke up extra early to do the power point for church.
went out to apartment to finish packing.
got in a...tiff...with my dad who reminds me again that in a year i need to have a job that has health insurance.
i bite my tongue.
my body hurts. i'm dripping sweat. this is not fun.
i race home. i missed going to my old friend's wedding shower. i'm bummed.
gotta finish the power point. gotta get to church. gotta change clothes. no time for a shower.

ex-boyfriend calls. we get in a ridiculous fight. i finally say some things and call out some behavior. he gets mad...i get mad. really, really mad.

ken's talking to us about some cool stuff. he's quoting velvet elvis. we're discussing the "many rooms" prepared in heaven. jesus is talking to the 12...what makes me think i have a room up there? when jesus said "way, truth, life" did he really mean through him or just his lifestyle? can we ever read the bible objectively? can we ever just give "God's opinion"? what lens do i see the bible through?

my head hurts but i'm grinning ear to ear. this is the stuff we talk about on thursday nights.
i think...ken is bold. he's asking the right questions. how in the world did i get so lucky to be here?

we go to dinner. someone says something i don't like about wellspring. i try to internalize it....

someone teases me and for some reason i get my feelings hurt.

someone makes a funny face when i tell them something about ryan & i.
i get upset.
i get home and call ryan. i tell him about my day.

suddenly...

i'm falling apart....

p.s.

i became officially "un-single" today.

i'm not really sure what that means...but after 3 years of general singledom i am now...not.

he's my best friend and i adore him. i'm not sure where this all will lead...but i'm content in it. i'm happy and i'm trying my best to not overthink it.

yay for feeling feelings.

whole

"i spent a great amount of time trying to be good, but was good the same as whole?"

-barbara brown taylor

from leaving church

i'm wanting to be whole.

i'm wanting to be good.

can i be both? is there a both/and?
i'm not sure anymore.




is it as black and white as good and bad?

should i believe that's the case?
i'm thinking not...

in a time and place that i believe tells me i need to be held up and seen as good or bad, i would definitely prefer to be good...please...thank you.

today i heard that someone i hold in pretty high esteem spoke positive things about me.

i'm wondering just how many gold stars are by my name on their chart...

a few? many?

just how many levels of good there are?

well now...this has gotten complicated.

regardless, it was good to hear.
i wanted to hear it.
i needed to hear it.
but why....

why must i be "good"? why can't i just be whole? just...juli?

why can't i be content being wholly juli, whether that is good or bad or somewhere inbetween?

what would it look like to not try to be whole rather than just good? what does that look like? what could i imagine for myself?

the finality of it all

i hear ya agassi. it's over...done...finished.

most of us cried right along with him. i caught myself wiping tears away and wishing so bad that he would stop...weeping. nothing makes me more upset than seeing a grown man cry, especially if it touches some experience of my own inside. as i watched him...i began to think of some closure i've got to come to.

summer is over. as of tomorrow i will be back at hbu for yet another quarter. i'm not ready. this summer has been too good to end right now.

not yet.

i'm not ready to stop spending countless hours up at main street with ken...rodney and the rest of the MSC gang.

i'm not ready to move out of my apartment.

i'm not ready to stop having slumber parties.

i'm not ready to lose the attention of my two best friends.

i'm not ready to take greek...i'm actually intimidated.

i'm not ready to be stressed, tired, and responsible again.

it's just not time.

i'm not quite sure why i have such issues with closure. i just have a hard time allowing things to end. it seems so final...so...done. i can't imagine being agassi and having played 25 years only to be beat by some young punk kid (who was very kind...he's a good guy, i'm sure) i dunno...we women, we're emotional. we hold on to mementos much longer than necessary. we remember everything...every thing. we just have trouble letting go.

sigh.

i'm not ready, but alas it is time to return. it was a good summer...good times w/ good people. good growth and experiences. good books, movies, meals, and memories.

therapy

as i walked through barnes & noble this morning bobbing my head as i listened to 'gorillaz' on my brand new i-pod (kevin was right...these things are amazing) i began to realize just how therapeutic book stores can be. after picking up the book i came for...one that karen swears by...i planted myself on the floor in the 'art' section. in the midst of my trance filled with colors and photos and all things beautiful i received a phone call. it was from a woman that helped facilitate a...session i had been to a few nights before. i'm still not sure how to best define the ideas this session was projecting. it was something between a self-help, self-realization, group therapy. it was hard for me...the idea of picking something that was really a brick wall in my life and with a group in the span of an hour identify how this brick wall was forcing me to behave in my life. nonetheless, i went along with the group and tried as best i could to participate at a level i felt comfortable. by the end of the night i was right where i started: with these brick walls that i needed to get through. it hadn't done much for me but to help see a program that a friend valued (why i had gone in the first place) and then i also go to hear some of the things my friends were struggling through. 'brick walls' aren't exactly common conversation i guess.

so one of these facilitators gets me on the phone and begins to ask how i felt about the night. then she starts asking all kinds of personal questions. now, i'm not one to shy away from confrontation but this was becoming uncomfortable. there's trust involved...and that wasn't exactly something she had. it also takes time and permission and i simply wasn't ready to grant her the secret password into 'juli's crap'. either way...she began to spill about why she had joined this....program and all the things she had overcome. i found myself smiling and happy for her. i was glad she had found what she needed. i was glad she was released of some of the things she had been going through. i genuinely appreciated her sharing. i told her that although i was glad to have attended the evening, i wasn't sure it had given me anything more than what i was already going through with my pastors and friends around me. i was indeed attempting to become healthy myself.

and in the middle of all this...looking at the art....sitting on the floor with 'gorillaz' still blaring through my headphones next to me....i began to think about therapy. it's true...i'm in therapy. i never would have called it that before, but it really is. every time i plop down on ken's couch in his office and spill my guys i'm engaging in therapy. every time i call up karen and we hash out anything and everything woman...i'm in therapy. every time i play with kevin and d's daughter karis...it too is therapy. all of it. and i don't have to give anything other than my time and patience and diligence. i'm working on it. i want to by healthy.

so i started thinking about ways outside of a program that i could begin this journey, and here are a couple of the ideas:

continue running.

take yoga (for real this time).

keep reading.

seek out new restaurants.

take classes...wine, food, art.

appreciate new styles of music.

go to more concerts.

listen....really listen.

visit the labyrinth regularly.

scrapbooking...collaging...creating.

spend more time with my parents.

do some risky things-not involving tattoos or piercings this time.

go to mosques and buddhist temples again. they're beautiful.

continue to face my 'brick walls'.

blog.

this is only the beginning to a long list of things i want to do, but i'm hoping it's a start. i'm not sure that we ever achieve complete healthiness-it's a continual process, but there are levels and i'd like to reach higher.