Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Hiking Without Shoes
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Married Life: The Difference
I can't pinpoint what feeling it is that makes me feel a surge of warmth when I hear him say my wife. I can't explain why I suddenly don't remember if he owes me $10 or more often than not, when I owe him. And even better, I can't explain what it means to me when in venting about my finances for the week, he hands me an unexpected $20 bill. When we talk about our joint savings account, a new one we opened just before the wedding with one specific goal in mind, we have shifted out of the mindset of are we both contributing 50/50 and into the trust that one of us may be up and one of us may be down but in the end we'll get there.
We have always been building a life together, for almost six years now, but now we are building a family. Even if it just the two of us for a long time, we are building our family, helping each other achieve our individual dreams, taking care of each other not just for the present moment but for what lies ahead, for who we both become, and we have created the most awesome 2-person team I could ever want. I don't think it is the license that has inspired this shift. But maybe it is the trust we have given each other. Maybe it was in planning a big celebration and arguing over things that didn't matter to cover up the fears we were really experiencing and successfully pulling it all off. But I think some of it is due in part, despite my younger ideas on love and marriage and romance, that getting married was the most romantic thing we could have ever done and it allowed us to fall in love with each other in a completely new way. It gave us a new kind of love and respect for each other - the kind of love that doesn't mind folding his socks.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Friday, March 8, 2013
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
The Kindness Project
Today at work, I was presented by a lovely paper flower from a group of children as a thank you for helping the community. The gesture was part of our Kindness Project in honor of Martin Luther King Jr. and an echoing lesson we are stringing through school discussions while learning about the Civil Rights movement.
I can't tell you how touched I was to get this flower that, unlike other flowers, will not die, wilt away, and smell like mildewy sludge until I empty the grimy vase. It can sit for as long as I like on my desk, stabilized by my canister of pens and pencils as a reminder that a little act of kindness can go a long way.
I can't tell you how touched I was to get this flower that, unlike other flowers, will not die, wilt away, and smell like mildewy sludge until I empty the grimy vase. It can sit for as long as I like on my desk, stabilized by my canister of pens and pencils as a reminder that a little act of kindness can go a long way.
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