: to make an effort to do something : to attempt to accomplish or complete something
: to do or use (something) in order to see if it works or will be successful
: to do or use (something) in order to find out if you like it
I try every day.
I try harder. I try new ideas. I try different approaches.
That's how I live this life every single day. I try. I may not accomplish much. I may not succeed. I may not like it. But I try.
And that's the point isn't? We can't guarantee results, outcomes, success, but we can try. And if that doesn't work, well we can try again or differently.
The key is not to beat me up when the trying doesn't bring the wanted result. The key is to give me credit for the trying. For getting up one more time and attempting to keep moving forward. Some days it's a cake walk. Easy-peasy. Other days . . . not so much.
So I try. Not to please others, but for God and me.
I am kind and compassionate I wonder about tolerance and offense I hear a fairy whisper in my ear I see a tiny fairy village, filled with fairies, gnomes, hedgehogs, and mushrooms I want a vacation all by myself in a wonderfully indulgent hotel by the ocean I am kind and compassionate
I pretend that I have a storybook existence I feel the fairy folk are caring I touch a fairy ring I worry the about the lack of kindness in the world I cry over the world's pain --
I understand that everyone sees from their own perspective I say kindness matters I dream of old houses filled with forgotten possessions I try to be productive and disciplined I hope for kindness to come back into fashion I am kind and compassionate
I am going . . . to work on some things around the house today with my bestie. She is a cleaner extraordinaire, so I'm taking advantage of her skills today. I am wondering . . . what the future may hold.
I am looking forward to . . . designing and creating more prayer shawls.
I am hearing . . . silence. It's just Squeaker and me in the house this morning.
Around the house . . . things are looking better, and with LB's help today, it should improve even more.
I am praying . . . for dh and ds as they travel today. Ds drove dh for his business trip and they're planning on getting a bit of climbing in as well.
One of my favorite things . . . yarn, and I got a new collection in the mail last week.
Although I'm not doing the Scheepjes CAL, I wanted to try this yarn. You can read more about it a creative being (this was one of Wink's last posts, so it might have been a sentimental purchase as well.)
A few plans for the rest of the week . . . this is my first week of fully putting into practice the work I did on my retreat 2 weeks ago. I am praying for good things and kindness to myself as I approach my prayer life in a new way.
I have to write this letter. I feel as if I have tried to say these things over and over again, so what is the point in trying once more? I usually write on the computer, not trusting my hand to handle the stress of writing these kinds of words. But I’m sitting in the café and my computer is at home on my desk.
I pull out a spiral notebook and my new pen. Writing in longhand is so personal. It puts me in touch physically with the words in a way that the computer keyboard does not. My hand must form each letter, each word. I have to slow down my thoughts to so my hand can keep up. I am forced to think through each word in a more elemental way. This is good and bad.
I start out calmly enough. I am numbering my points as I try to explain (again) the rift and what the exact cause is. I am respectful and thoughtful as I write these words, trying to spare their feelings while still getting the point across. But as my hand moves along the page, it becomes harder and harder to keep the letters well-formed and evenly spaced.
I stop and breathe. I do not want the writing to look like the ravings of a lunatic, but I cannot hide the emotion. It comes pouring out through the tip of the pen.
I arrive at the fourth point, and I cannot control the pen well at all. The letters are jagged and jerky. I am neither weak nor fragile. I am strong. What you perceive as fragility is self-preservation, healing, and honoring myself and my needs. If only my handwriting showed how deeply I believe this.
The words become more and more definitive and deliberate. I will not be in a relationship with people who continue to hurt me whether intentionally or not. I am offended that you consider me so shallow and saddened that you view me in this way. I am appalled that you have treated my husband so thoughtlessly.
I can’t go on any longer. If I were typing this, I might go on and on for pages. But the decline of my handwriting forces me to see the depth of my pain and anger. I cannot continue. My whole body is enveloped in the emotion. The simple act of writing these words has opened a fissure in my calm veneer. I am in a public place and if I continue allowing my hand to express these feelings, I may not be able to keep up the calm visual persona I desire.
I cap the pen. I close the notebook. I breathe. (originally posted July 27, 2012)
I am looking forward to . . . digging deeper into books by Robert Benson. These 2 came in the mail on Saturday.
I am hearing . . . silence. Dh is driving out of town (bless him!) and ds is on jury duty today.
Around the house . . . I must vacuum! We have one dog. She's nearly 16 years old and is half beagle half dachshund and you simply would not believe how much she sheds! Vacuuming is one of the hardest jobs for me to do when my asthma is flaring, so I have "Squeaker dust bunnies" everywhere!
I am praying . . . for dh as he travels today. He has a difficult time driving for long distances and I hope that his pain will be manageable.
One of my favorite things . . . is a stack of new books! I've got quite a few right now ranging from the daily prayer books to Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee.
A few plans for the rest of the week . . . it looks like a quiet week which is a VERY good thing! I'm ready for some days spent at home doing homemaking and crafting.