I am friends with someone on Facebook that for the past four years has been the only person that I would ever say I disliked. If I'm being honest, there were points when I downright hated this person. I could not stand to be in the same room as them and whenever their name was brought up I would draw back as if having just been slapped in the face. Slowly I moved from hating to strongly disliking, from feeling like I'd been slapped to slapping down some nasty side comments. I felt this was progress. I was certain that the closest I was ever going to get to forgiving this person was not cursing the very air they breathed.
Now, I know what you are thinking, why in the hell did I accept this person's friend request? Well, the answer is simple, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Also, I was secretly hoping that I would be able to witness this person's demise via an electronic medium.
No such luck.
However, what I have been able to do is move from blind hatred to apathetic disliking to simple apathy and today the train finally stopped at forgiveness. This person had made a status update that I had considered commenting on but was in a rush to get out for a run and didn't. I did however think about this update as I was walking home from the gym and for the first time I found myself thinking positively about this person. Not just in a way that I wish peace to all mankind, but in a way that I specifically wanted good things for this specific person. My pace suddenly slowed and I realized that forgiveness is not something you give someone else, but rather something you give yourself. I suddenly felt lighter, as if a tremendous weight had lifted from within my heart.
As my pace quickened I smiled and for the first time released the grudge I had been holding tightly for so many years. And in its place I let in light and love.
Every time I listen to this song I cry (or at the very least get undeniably teary eyed). Without fail. Every mother loving time. As much as I like to pretend that Elton's "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters" is my life theme song, I'm pretty sure this is actually it. Well, maybe if the two songs were combined to make one mega song like "Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding". Oh wait, I digress...
The bottom line is that I am so incredibly thankful for...
four spectacularly wonderful parents, including a mum who still kisses and hugs me like she did when I was 5, a dad who I admire more and more every day, and two step-parents who have patiently put up with all my shenanigans over the past 10+ years.
having perhaps the most fabulous big brother ever given to a little sister. Mostly I say this because he is funny as hell and I really like to laugh, but also because he is truly the only other person on the face of this planet who knows what it is exactly that I have been through.
every single day that I get to spend with my gram/every day that she is here with us.
step-siblings that I want to spend time with and get to know and "grow up" with.
being able to say I'm an auntie and watching my wonderful little nephews (and step-nephews and nieces) grow up into awesome little people.
friends! This includes, but is certainly not limited to, my Boy Bestie, my old friends, my new friends, those who have stuck with me as I have traversed this country and others, and those who have forgiven me probably more times than I deserve.
my family that are not bound to me by blood.
knowing that no matter where in the world I am I have friends and family who will always have my back.
the world's funniest, snuggliest, cutest, scrunchiest, most loveablest dog who is lying next to me snoring as I type.
being able to take time to pursue my dream...as practical as it may be.
my two strong, runner's legs.
my body agreeing to go along with all of the ridiculousness I put it through.
Lucy socks, Nike headbands and gloves, my iPod Shuffle and Body Glide.
yoga.
coffee, yellow highlighters, and Dragonfly Cafe.
discovering I love peanut butter.
having a job and an internship and going to school and trying to maintain a social life and training for a marathon and keeping up on weekly calls to my parents and taking time for myself and walking the dog and...
all the experiences I have had (good and bad) that have ultimately made me who I am today; someone I truly love and feel deserves to be loved.
checking the weather of the city your loved one lives in, every day.
Every time I talk to my dad on the phone we discuss weather and every time he mentions how he saw in the newspaper/on The Weather Channel that the weather here in Portland was x, y or z. Every time, without fail.
It had never occurred to me until I was out running the other day that this means my dad is thinking about me. Every day. It is an incredibly small gesture, but it shows an even more incredible amount of love.
Then it dawned on me, all I'm really looking for in life is someone that doesn't have to ask, "what's the weather like?" because they already know.
As I begin to mentally prepare to physically prepare for my next marathon (Oakland, March 27) I have recently changed my desktop wallpaper and Facebook profile picture to an amazing photo of Kathrine Switzer. She's the first (numbered) woman to run Boston. She's a ballsy lady and she worked hard to pave the way for female marathoners. Before Paula Radcliffe and Kara Groucher were gracing the covers of sports magazines in their sports bras she was rocking sweats while nonchalantly running away from race officials. The lady is a true hero and I will think of her next Monday as I take my first steps towards my second marathon.
I will be the first to admit that I can sometimes take teasing a little too far. I like to laugh, I like to make jokes and since I don't mind laughing at myself I too often assume that others don't mind either. I know this is only an excuse, but it's hereditary; my whole family (especially the original four - my mum, dad, brother and me) enjoy a good tease. I have spoken to both of my parents about this, "don't you think sometimes we tease too much?" and I am always told, "no, it's all in good fun". But it always has to be admitted that not everyone grew up in a house full of jokers.
More than a joker I am also at times painfully sarcastic making it difficult for even those who know me best to tell if I am serious or not. I cannot even begin to recall how many times I have had to say, "I know it is hard to tell, but I am being serious right now".
Perhaps more than anyone my boy bestie, Peter, gets the brunt of my teasing and sarcasm. I cannot tell you why because I absolutely adore Peter. He is truly one of the most generous and genuine friends I have ever had. I have only known him for a relatively short two years, but sometimes it feels like I've known him my whole life. We often bicker like an old married couple but there isn't a doubt in my mind that I would go to the ends of the earth for Peter and that he would do the same for me, without a second thought, without question.
One of the many reasons why I admire Peter is because of what I have proclaimed his "special zest for life". I wordsmithed this phrase while we were touring Wisconsin and I was able to see my state for the first time through someone else's eyes. Peter has such an exuberant optimism about life that I envy. At times I feel old and beaten down by life when I am with him because I cannot fathom being so utterly optimistic, so youthfully zealous.
What makes this quality even more awesome is that despite the relative subjectivity of a difficult life, Peter has not had it easy. He has faced adversities and hardships I cannot imagine handling, and to make it through with eyes that are able to see the world as his do is so uniquely outstanding. It is if as though he is only able to see the good. While I am focused on the dark clouds, Peter is able to point out the small patch of blue off in the distance. And more than that he is unabashedly unashamed to express his complete and utter joy for the thread-thin silver lining.
And while I am haranging him about being so over-the-top I am secretly wishing I could acquire just a quarter of his special zest for life.
While considering a move back the eastward way it has come to my attention that I have perhaps front loaded my life. What if I peaked in my mid/late 20s and now it is only downhill from here? Certainly this has not been my intention, but I also do not intend to spend the rest of my life vagabonding about from city to city in search of adventure. I do not want the sum of my life to be the cities I have lived in and the amount of times I have moved. Yet, I fear that to settle (down) will be to resign myself to a life of boredom. I will spend the rest of my days suffering from a chronic case of itchy feet.
Last night I tell this to my mum whose response is "maybe you will find new adventure with a husband and kids". I immediately think, but do not verbalize, "maybe I will find a cure for cancer, too". At this point in my life that is about how realistic a husband and kids seems. I am still not convinced that path is in the cards for me.
I spend the rest of the evening contemplating that perhaps the larger issue here is that I am still stuck at square one. Shit.
I love to learn and am always on the search for new and interesting facts (mostly so that I can use this trivial information to impress and/or bore people). Recently, while perusing the rack of post cards at the Cheddar Head Store in La Crosse, I learned that the state motto of Wisconsin is "forward". I turned to my friends, also Wisconsin natives, "Did you know this?" Ben says, "Yeah, it's on a statue at the court house (or some such governmental building)". Hm, apparently I had missed this little tid-bit, but I was excited by my newly acquired knowledge and tucked it away in the back pocket of my mind.
However, as my dad and I traversed the country on my way back to Portland, I kept thinking about this word forward. Leaving my family and friends in Wisconsin and Minnesota had been especially hard this time, and my heart was feeling pretty heavy. Over the past few years I have slowly begun to rediscover how beautiful the Midwest is and how blessed I am to have been raised there. Yet, I always felt that moving back "home" could only mean I was moving backwards. This is something I have always refused to do in my life; I have set my focus on forward movement and tried never to look back.
But now as I review my short list of places that I would like to move, and the list of pros and cons I have mentally made for them all, the list of cons for Minneapolis is the shortest. In fact, it only has one item on it: winter. Perhaps moving "back" doesn't mean moving backwards after all. While it might mean moving through snow it feels like it might be the most forward movement I've made in years.
