joy finder

Being raised amongst "an unhappy people" makes for lots of things. Cyncism. A critical nature. Anger. Addiction. Looking for love in all the wrong places. Mistaking love for something that isn't. Seeking out happy people - because you aren't.

The reality is, happines is temperal. It doesn't last. I was happy (thrilled, even) when my friend/neighbor brought some freshly baked, piping hot pear bread to my door. While I was 'happy' to eat the bread, the memory of my friend's thoughtfulness and her relationship with me is what joy is made of. Joy lasts. Happiness is fleeting.

In the quest to be a joy-finder, comfortable boxes have to be stepped out of and the propensity toward finding satisfaction in a moment needs to be overcome. I want the kind of joy that lives and breathes on its own. That bubbles up, overflows and consumes everyone around me.

I'm still working on it. In the meantime, here's the monday morning edition of (and addition to) "1000 Gifts."

171. Christmas music - even before Thanksgiving.

171. a growing daughter - physically, emotionally and spiritually

172. God's love. it's huge.

173. stepping outside of the comfort zone.

174. husbands who grocery shop

175. electricity.

176. autum leaves.

177. vitamin d.

178. homemade stew

179. a husband that enjoys cooking.

180. lavender vanilla. in various forms.

181. piping hot coffee.

182. hysterical laughter

183. costco.

184. remembering birthdays

185. planning a holiday

186. recognizing joyful people

187. finding patience.

188. humility.

189. seeking joy instead of momentary satisfaction.

190. the feel of a new tablet without words.

191. holding fast to believes, albeit unpopular.

192. new responsibilities and a good attitude.

193. friendships that require work - but weather the years.

194. accepting the weaknesses of others.

195. recognizing strengths at the same time

196. knowing that no 'one person' will be perfect for us.

197. genuine kindness.

198. hope's Dsi

199. planning our 'black friday' tradition.

200. allowing joy to live and breathe. even when it hurts.

201. memories. like this one.

Happy Monday. Here's to finding joy as we journey.

November Monday Gratitude

Not sure if it's the weather or the season, but I find myself sorely in need of some gratitude. Meaning, the need to remind myself of what I have and the blessing of breath in my lungs.

151. the honor of praying for this family, whose little boy just went home to be with Jesus last night.

152. my own little girl, who lives and breathes, and challenges and loves out loud

153. cold weather

154. fleece pajamas and cozy socks

155. one stubborn husband

156. my sister-in-law, who left her life for a week to run ours

157. saying 'yes' when my selfishness wants to say 'no'

158. moms who said 'yes' to watching my kidlet when their selfishness wanted to say 'no'

159. a collection of old photos that capture days' passed

160. a week of meetings with some of public radio's smartest people around

161. "out of the box" experiences that make the story more interesting

162. green tea candles

163. pondering forgiveness.

164. pondering anger. and the need to forgive

165. dirty clothes that live everywhere but the hamper

166. unmade beds

167. a broken heart for a family i have never met

168. laughter in unexpected places.

169. the connection facebook provides

170. a full and gentle night's sleep

An easy blog

1. What is your favorite thing to snack on while your blogging? I don’t really snack while blogging. I am usually drinking coffee. Or tea. Depending on the hour of the blog.

2. What is one thing you wouldn't want to live without? My non-spiritual answer is: my CPAP machine. It’s made sleep possible in my life. My bible would be more impressive - just being honest.

3. Beach, Mountains, or Farm? Where would you live if you had a choice?Beach. Beach. Beach. Mountains if I had a cabin to drive to. Never a farm. Never. Never. Never.

4. What's your least favorite chore/household duty? Unloading the dishwasher with putting away folded laundry a close second.

5. Who do people say you remind them of? When I was thinner (back in the day) – the mermaid from splash. I can’t even remember her name. She dated Joe Jackson in the 80s. Hannah something?

6. Prefer parties and socializing or staying home with the fam? I like to socialize – but I lean toward the life of a loner. Depends what form the socializing comes in!

7. What's your all time favorite movie? Beaches.

8. Do you sleep in your make-up or remove it like a good little girl every night? Probably a hit/miss on this one. Depends. I know, I know.

9. Do you have a hidden talent or a deep desire to learn something that you've never had a chance to learn? What is it? Deep, hidden talent? I can wiggle my ears and nose. Something I want to learn? I’d love to speak another language fluently. I always say Spanish, because I took 4 years in college. But really, I’d love to speak French.

10. What's one strange thing you're really good at? Archery on the Wii.

11. What first attracted you to your spouse? He was very kind and cute.

12. What is something you love to smell? Vanilla/Lavender…downy. lotion. candle. And Light Blue by Dolce Gabanna. And the bamboo candles/spray from Pier 1.

13. Tell something about you that you know irritates people. I am chronically early and can be annoying about it. Meaning, annoying about needing to be early. Obsessively so. And it makes me NUTS when people are chronically late. NUTS.

14. When you have extra money, what's the first thing you think to do with it?
Pick up a little something for Hope, buy some super cool stationary or a tasty smelling candle.

15. Are you a silent laugher or a loud laugher? What makes you laugh the hardest?I wish I were more of a silent laughter. My laugh is loud at first –then moves to a silent shake, then wheeze. It’s not pretty y’all. What makes me laugh the hardest? Anyone who is truly funny, usually. My sister, Katie usually sends me to fits of laughter. And my friend Shannon is hands-down the funniest chick I know.

16. Where is your favorite place to shop? Nordstrom.

17. What's one thing you'd do more often if you had more time? Pick up scrapbooking again.

18. Are you a big spender or frugal? If I have the dough, I’m a bit of a spender with a sprinkle of frugality.

19. Who is your favorite character of all time? Nothing is popping to mind here. Mr. Darcy?

20. Would you want to be famous?Not really. It would be cool to be a published writer – but not so much famous.

Isn't your life better for having read this? Geez. :)

Friday night doesn't often find me in the land of blogosphere. Not that Friday night is often filled with a lot of hooplah. Sidenote: I totally dated myself by using the term "hooplah."

It's been a long week, y'all. Right now, my hands smell like bleach, a heater is set on high with hopes of drying a freshly shampooed carpet and my carcass is kicking back in a cushy chair in the middle of my kitchen. Ladybug the cat is perched behind my hair, intent on chewing on it. Must be some bleach residue on the edges. Chlorine and bleach. She loves them both. Explains the hairball phenom, doesn't it?

Speaking of hairballs - our family has been cat puke free for exactly one week. Oh Petsmart, your name does describe you. Smart. About pets. :)

I seem to be losing my mojo for the effort of blogging. Or maybe it's the bleachy hands, getting to the brain cells. Time to continue my list of gratitude to help "shake the stink off" on this fantabulous Friday night.

132. my new "green tea" candle.
133. cleaning
134. furniture, freshly rearranged
135. continued employment during an economic sag
136. a husband who cooks dinner on a friday night (mine)
137. grieving the death of a friendship.
138. celebrating the presence of healthy friends
139. kickboxing
140. flicker low light
141. the thoughts of donald miller
142. realizing that not everyone is going to "get me" and having that be okay
143. falling asleep to the television
144. the feel of a good book
145. the gift of words on paper
145. the ability to express thoughts through writing
146. gusty winds
147. trickling rain
148. making benvolio videos
149. having laughing fits over my own videos
150. the ability to change the direction of my story

Happy Friday, y'all. Here's hoping the carpet is dry (or dry enough) in the next 45 minuots.

:)

Nope. We haven't seen Billy Blanks. Anywhere.

Does anyone remember Billy Blanks and his tae-bo kickboxing videos? I've done a few of them in my day. Worked up a sweat. Called it good.

See these red boxing gloves? We became aquainted tonight. And Billy Blanks? He was nowhere to be found.

Let me back up to share that I'm continually on a quest to find a Wednesday night workout. Hope is at Awana for two hours and I'm sick of hearing my fingers click on a keyboard at the library during that time. I've given water aerobics a try. It would be okay - if it weren't for all the water.

I located a drop-in kickboxing class just a few blocks from Awana. I coerced my friend Wendy into joining me. "It's kickboxing. You know, like Billy Blanks. Some aerobic moves, some punching and kicking the air. I think it will be good." I think I talked her into a half marathon with me in just about the same fashion.

We knew we were in trouble when the class started hauling in punching bags and hanging them from the ceiling. Followed by a classmate's question: "Did you guys bring boxing gloves?"

All we could do was laugh. Slide our hands into some pretty beat up (and unbelievable sweaty) class gloves. I had to turn off part of my brain to move forward - every germaphobic cell in my brain was firing off.

Ten minutes in, the acrobatic instructor sent us jogging around the mirrored room a few times. I knew I was toast.

Wendy and I made it about 40 minutes. Maybe 45. I can honestly say that I'm not sure I have EVER sweated so profusely. My sweat was sweating. No lie. And almost every part of my body felt like a squiggly mess.

Wendy and I howled when we got back in her car. Oh, to have video of the mess that we were. But you know what? We freaking did it. And you know what else? I'm going shock the shoes off of that instructor and go back next week. Hit the bag a little lighter. Kick a little slower. And jog when I can.

I'm also buying my own gloves. Having said that, I need to wash my hands again.

Freaking Billy Blanks. Yeesh. :)

Monday Gratitude

I awoke this morning with a start. It wasn't the sunshine peeking its head in that woke me, but instead, one puking cat. Oh yes. It was.

Poor Ladybug is getting old and very - "hairbally." She's a short-haired tabby, but you'd never know it after a hairball escapade. There's a telltale urping noise that this feline omits. A half-asleep stupor found me pushing said cat off of the bed before the damage was done. On the comfortor, anyhow.

Too much information for the weak of stomach, I'm sure. Since that's the perfect description of me, 2:36 am finds me at the computer. Man. Alive.

My "gratitude list" has fallen to the wayside. I am deeply ashamed. No big excuses. Life. Busy routine. Lack of blogginess in general. Lame excuses. I know this.

My Dad and sister stopped over on their way to California this weekend. They took a 22-hour train ride to Oakland, CA to visit my Aunt and a portion of "the cousins." My decision not to go came late in the planning game. It was difficult to say "no" for a gaggle of good and true reasons - scheduling, finances, work, babysitters. All true. And good. As the decline made its way into the universe, I believe I heard a large sigh of relief. Birds sang. Trees bloomed. Mice with ribbon began creating the dress for the ball. Seriously.

My sister, Katie is Dad's traveling companion on this adventure. We texted along the first 12 hours of the route. I loved seeing them, laughing and visiting with Katie and being silly at the train station made me question my decision. As the texts came, I felt slighty grieved that I wasn't able to find a way to go. Come day break, I shot her a four-word text: "How was the night?" She replied with one word: LONG.

Instead of the universe, it was me omitting the long sigh of relief. "LONG" in Katie's world translates into "a small piece of personal hell" in mine. There's not a doubt in my mind that 22 hours would have ended with neither my Dad or Katie speaking to me. It would be top any other family tale that speaks to my nerosis. "Four Days on the Rogue River with Kris" would be but a distant memory.

'Nuff said. Onto the list of gratitude, beginning with number 111.

111. My sister, Katie
112. Side-splitting, gag-inducing laughter.
113. Shared history - no matter how painful or ridiculous.
114. My Dad.
115. Listening to the still small voice that directs in difficult circumstances.
116. The continued adventure of growing up.
117. Trusting, even when it seems impossible.
118. Knowing that "it's not you" is really true.
119. Sharing Anne Lammott's writings with someone for the first time.
120. Hearing that someone loves the writings of Anne Lammott.
121. Understanding that not everyone is going to be my friend.
122. Being okay when someone "doesn't get me."
123. Changed perspective.
124. Friends that have history together.
125. Wanting to grow.
126. Not deleting someone from my facebook. Even though they deserve it.
127. Stopping myself from going to said person's facebook every day. Or ever again.
128. Praying for people who have hurt me.
129. Living outside wants and desires.
130. Cleaning up cat puke at 2:30 am from our aging cat.
131. Knowing that the weekend wasn't complete because one person was missing.
131. Both of my sisters.

Here's to a monday of gratitude. And aiming to lay my head back down at 3 am for a few more hours of rest. Be blessed. :) k

It's like this, Oprah...

Back in the day, I was a HUGE Whitney Houston fan. I'd forgotten about it, really. Actually, after "Being Bobby Brown" - I think I blocked it out. When I heard Oprah was kicking off her new season with a two-part Whitney interview, I knew I had to be there. Or my DVR did.

With the first night of the interview under my television-belt (and the 2nd still on the DVR), a portion of the interview has been tossing around in my brain. As Jillian was verbally pummeling a 476 contestant (biggest loser) last night, I was reminded of it again. Here's a rehash of what's going through my brain.

Oprah: You and Bobby, you smoked weed and did cocaine?

Whitney (salivating, crouching close to Oprah with anticipation): Okay, Oprah, go with me. (wipes drool from sides of mouth). We carefully rolled our joints. (demonstrating with her hands) Then we laced them with cocaine (pauses. reflecting). It was our high of choice.

Now, my once-beloved Whitney is an addict. And I haven't watched part 2 to see whether or not she still does drugs. She spoke of this cocaine-laced joint with such affection. Like she was sharing the best secret with Oprah. Who I'm pretty certain, isn't a doobie-roller.

Why is this all with me? It reminded me of something. Me. Food. The way Whitney described her high is the way I would describe something delectible to someone. A food that I adore. It's been playing in my mind. Why do I feel like this about food? Why is it such a struggle to break free?

Yesterday, we took my friend (and manager) Shelly, to Red Robin for lunch. I've been drinking protein drinks for a few of my meals and eating out in our lives right now is rare. I ordered my standard BBQ chicken salad. When it came, I had flashes of Whitney, rolling through my head.

Oprah: What's your favorite thing to order at Red Robin, Kris?

Kris: (pauses, salivating): Oh Oprah, go with me. It's the most delictable salad ever. Piled high with greens, a perfectly grilled chicken breast with just the right amount of sauce. A lightly seasoned spoonful of blackbeans with warm, slightly breaded onions on top. (sighs. eyes roll back in the head). The best ranch dip is served on the side, perfect for dipping the garlic-seasoned focaccia bread. Warm focaccia bread. Oh Oprah, it's my favorite high.

Last night, as I watched the 476 pound woman try to climb a stair machine over and over. Fall. Receive screaming/berating from Jillian and then ultimately walk out of the gym, these words reverberated (from Jillian): What you have going on in your head is a story. We're not going to play into it any longer. If you don't let me help you, if you don't listen to me, if you don't make a different choice than what you've been doing, you will die. So quit if you want to."

She came back. Now, I'm nowhere near 476 pounds. But I totally understand how someone could get there. Whitney, my bbq'd chicken salad and acidic Jillian were all ringing in my head last night. In the most disturbing way.

The way I abuse food and use food is my addiction. I think addictions come in different forms. Food abuse shows up on the body. Fat. Compulsive shopping shows up in nice things and unmanageable bills. Alcoholism. Obvious. Relationships/sex. Rotating relationships, looking for the high of the romance and bailing when it fails. Porn. On and on it goes. All of them will destroy a part of us. Or so mess with our heads that we don't know which way is up. We're just looking for the next hit of food, alcohol, love, sex. I'm done talking about this addiciton to food. Done. And now, I want to be over it. Healed from it.

For today, my thankful list is going to be small.

101. reality checks.
102. the power of a new choice
103. hope. the verb.
104. biggest loser
105. whitney houston's honesty
106. bbq chicken salad
107. jillian and bob
108. the word of God that changes lifes when we allow it to
109. helping a friend
110. honesty

I. am. done.