| The world as I know it | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Just a preemptive "Thanks for listening" | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
Basics--Name: Sarah. Age: 18. Eyes: Dark brown. Hair: Dark brown. Ethnicity: 1/2 Hispanic. Height: 5'7". Weight: A lady never discloses this. Education: High School drop-out, SAT: 1230. Employment: Production manager for small weekly newspaper. Status: Engaged. Family: Adam, Kat, J, Carrie, Dave, and my little brother Matt. Hobbies--Clay sculpting, drawing, reading Clive Cussler and John Grisham, writing poetry, biking, running, and the internet. | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| My life's work--so far. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
Of Winds and Shadows the fire of life that's strength and passion is fueled by winds of adversity; and that drive to go on, to achieve, to conquer is not born of gentle passivity. life becomes precious by taking a journey through the Valley of the Shadow of Death; and only a brush of the soul with forever compels us to treasure the gift of each breath. just as the icy frosts of winter come before spring's flowered meadows; so life's wonders, joys, successes come by way of winds and shadows. The Paths of Two she could see him walking but there was so much in between keeping them apart there were people and prejudices and attitudes there was money and power an old love and pride. but the most obstructive of these was time. and as it lengthened, so did the shadows until one day she realized there were no more people or attitudes or prejudices there was no more money or power or old love or pride. and it wasn't hard to see him now because he was right beside her. Thus, the paths of two became one. (currently under construction. please visit again soon.) | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| Some things profound... | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
I've learned that worrying is horribly ineffective. To borrow a line from "Sunscreen"--worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. Knowing this makes little difference if you're used to worrying, however. It's something you have to experience as you force yourself to let go. I tried it one day as I waited for a bus that made me 20 minutes late for work (recently, I've had the fun of waiting an hour and a half in the freezing wind for a bus that made me over an hour late to work; this time around, I was prepared. It barely fazed me.). It was startling how much better I felt when I just stopped worrying about it. The moment you let go of the anxiety, the pressure lifts from your spirit, and you realize that worrying had no effect whatsoever on the outcome of the problem... Just this morning on June 25, I had to switch buses twice due to malfunctions. My bus driver was having a horrible time--after all, he was the one who'd been dealing with the malfunctions all day. He was actually the most upset person on the bus, even though many of us passengers were consequentially late to our appointments. I knew anxiety would only make it worse--I had the bus driver as living proof of that. So I simply stopped looking at my watch--I'd get to work eventually. The lost minutes would be easily made up. It's almost scary how much easier one's life is made by the simple decision to stop worrying. | Sometimes--all right, ALL the time--it's difficult for me to admit that I'm not strong enough to take care of myself. I can handle it for the most part, but there are people who love me and want to take care of me. They were the ones who told me to stop worrying. I knew they were right, but how to take advantage of the advice without admitting my weakness? Right about then I found that--to further overuse an old cliche--I was cutting off my nose spite my face. I am slowly coming to grips with the fact that God gave us friends and family to help us. He designed human relationships to be two-way streets. Life doesn't feel right--it's missing something--when you only give and refuse to receive. Someday, I hope I become wise. :-) With the help of the wonderful people I've been blessed with the privilege to love, I have hope for the future.
|
Favourite links
|
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||
|
This page has been visited
|