It's Okay to Cry

I cried this morning. Sometimes I suck it back in, but today I didn’t. I needed to cry.

This year has been hard, like really hard. That’s not to say it hasn’t also been a great year because it has. It’s honestly been one of my favorites.

I’ve gone back and forth on whether to list out all the reasons why it’s been so hard, like a guest list to my own personal pity party or my own resume of suffering. Then I think about writing each hardship with a positive spin like, here’s a list of all the great lessons I learned in 2016. That’s not going to happen either.

Instead I want to share with you a quote taken from Michael Singer’s book, The Untethered Soul. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend that you do.

“So let all of your blockages and disturbances become the fuel for the journey. That which is holding you down can become a powerful force that raises you up. You just have to be willing to take the ascent.”

I think the last line bears repeating. “You just have to be willing to take the ascent.”

After a full year of making the conscious effort to move forward and up, I can say in full confidence that I am not just willing, but committed to the ascent.

Going back to my first statement and to my overall theme of grace.  It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel. To do so is to be human. But don't waste too much time feeling. Instead, get out there and be the badass you were meant to be. 

Grace Period

I've been a little quiet lately. It is not that I don't have anything to say, it's actually quite the opposite. A lot of the major changes in my life took place about this time last year including leaving the job, city, and friends I had for nearly a decade. With that, came the new husband, the new name, the new city, the search for a new job and friends, and the new life in the military.

Change is hard and personal growth is not always a pretty process. I know my original intent was to unveil all the ways I have learned to trust the universe. But I have to be honest, that motto doesn't leave much room for grace. That motto is more about being a super human and powering through whatever crosses my path. It is more about force than flow, and believe me, I wrote the book on forcing my way through life's difficult moments.

To me, here's the difference between trusting the universe and living with grace...

I am hiking along a trail and encounter a snake (I am terrified of snakes by the way). Trusting the universe would equate to forcing myself to walk right past the snake (fear and all) in hopes the universe did not want me to be bitten at that moment, or accepting that there was a lesson for me in being bitten. My response to this idea = OH, HELL NO!!!

By acknowledging my fear and giving my blood pressure a moment to normalize, I allow myself some grace and hopefully a more rational decision for moving forward.

There's a saying I like that is often found in books on spiritual growth, but it originated from Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. It says, "we are not humans beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience."

While spirituality has been my guiding light over the past year, my hope for 2017 is to acknowledge my humanness and to allow for grace to flow more freely. I hope you'll join me in this journey.

With grace,

Jennifer

Trust the Universe

It’s time for a refresh of the blog. As a marketing/branding professional, it pains me to not have an aligned purpose and messaging. One option could be forty new things before turning 40. However, I think I’m good when it comes to trying new things. For those of you that don’t know, in the past year I have left a job of 10 years, gotten married, moved to a new city, became a part of the military family, found a new job, and almost completed yoga teacher training. I’m sure there are a few other nuggets I left out, but you get the picture.

A lot has occurred in my life over the past year and a lot occurred in the thirty something years before then. It has certainly been and continues to be one hell of a ride.  One of the most life shifting moments occurred during a meditation retreat in 2014. 

At that retreat Byron Katie said, 

“Everything happens for you, not to you. Everything happens at exactly the right moment, neither too soon nor too late. You don't have to like it... it's just easier if you do.” 

After she made the initial comments, she and Deepak Chopra asked us to close our eyes and to imagine for a second that everything in our lives was perfect, and to accept everything that has occurred as a blessing. Initially it felt hard to swallow, literally I felt the urge to puke, but as I sat there surrounded by 300+ beautiful souls I attempted to accept this as my truth. As I did, life got easier.

Now let’s be real. Like with most major life lessons, it can take time and practice for a lesson to take root in our lives and for us to fully bloom from its wisdom. On the bright side, the universe will typically keep “giving” us the opportunity to learn that same lesson over and over and over again until it finally sinks in.   

Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.

So instead of sharing perhaps 40 life lessons before forty, I plan to focus on just this one: Trusting the Universe. The stories I’ll share about my life will illustrate how I have come to accept this as one of the major truths in my life. Consider this blog as my gift to you and as a constant reminder to myself to always trust the universe.

With love and light!

Jennifer

The Journey Continues...

Source: The Chopra Foundation via Instagram

What an amazing journey this life has been and continues to be! There have been seemingly endless challenges and equally as many victories, and along the way tremendous awakening and rebirth.

For those unfamiliar with my original blog-My thirty x 30 adventure: a journey of mischievous proportions-here’s a little back story. It was a pretty dark time for me (which I may or may not expand upon later). Essentially, I had lost my spark and needed a good challenge to rekindle my desire for life. Overall I would say it was a success. Not just because I attempted thirty new things in the year leading up to my thirtieth birthday, but because I found my fire again. A huge part of that flame came from adventure #10, yoga.

It’s been six years since that fateful, sweaty day at the yoga studio when I stepped on my mat for the first time in years.  Ever since that day, yoga has played an integral role in my life and a month from now I will make a huge step in sharing that knowledge even further with the world as I complete yoga teacher training.

I honestly cannot say where my path as a yoga teacher will take me. I just know the impact this journey has had on my life, the light it has shined upon my soul, and I feel it is partly my purpose in life to share this light with others.

So, what does this have to do with the saying in the picture above, The less I needed, the better I felt? I guess you’ll just have to stick with me as I begin to unravel all the wonderful lessons I have learned through this thing called yoga.

With love and light!

Jennifer

It's been a while...

I woke this morning with these words in my head, this is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.  For those that know me, know that I am more spiritual than religious. So for me to awake to scripture is somewhat ironic. 

But not really. Back in my more frequent church going days, I remember the preacher always saying,  let's prepare our hearts for worship. If we did so before Sunday service and it only lasted an hour, then how long does it take to prepare for a week of mission work?

I'm not talking about the physical preparations like shots, malaria medications and making sure you have enough pepto bismal for your two daily doses. I'm talking about the spiritual readiness to not only give of God's love but to receive it. 

I will joke that a mission trip is a whole lot of Jesus, and it is. To be honest, the first two days of the mission trip last year sat sourly in my stomach. I had come physically prepared but I was far from prepared spiritually.  

Starting now, I will begin my spiritual preparation.  I will think of the people we will serve in the coming weeks.  How medicine that is so readily available here is not there. Even if it was, most could not afford it. I will think of the little boy on the construction site whose cut leg I tended to. And how a simple cleaning with a disinfectant, a little neosporine and a bandage healed a badly infected cut almost overnight. 

Starting now i will be grateful.  Grateful mostly for the gift of being healthy, both Maddox and myself. It is a gift that I believe we all most often take for granted. 

There's more to come here so stay tuned.  

Mission Trip - Day Three

My brain is so overwhelmed right now and the steroids I’m taking are only making matters worse. Just picture the equivalent of rush hour traffic going on inside your cranium and that’s my mental state. Time to put on the hazard lights, my friends.

There was a humorous moment in the day, however. In an effort to provide some comfort and humor, one of my coworkers smiled and said, “even God took seven days for creation.”

Day three

Let the real work begin…

The beginning

For the first real work day I was scheduled to work with the best crew chief ever, my dad. We arrived in San Francisco around 9am and went to the job sites. The house we were building was made of concrete blocks and consisted of 2 bedrooms, a bathroom and a living room. It would eventually house the Rodriguez family. We worked from 9:00-12:00 then took a break for PB&J at the soup kitchen. At 1:00 we headed back to the jobsite for 3 more hours of work. By the end of day one, our crew had laid 4 courses of block which would not have been possible except that we had lots of great helpers. This is the day I met my buddy Maria. From this day forward, she would wait for me every morning and see me off every afternoon. If there wasn’t a trowel in my hand then it was Maria’s hand. (Sidenote: It turns out Maria wasn’t really named Maria. Her real name is Demetria, or so we think.)

It’s also the day that would trump my bloody leg of beef sighting. Shortly after lunch a herd of pigs came down the hill. By the end of the afternoon, one of these piggies would squeal his last squeal. After some wrangling, this (not so) little piggy was taken behind a gate and killed. It was a much longer process that I would deem necessary; apparently they let the pigs bleed out. We all assumed what was going on but it wasn’t until one of the workers gestured a throat slitting that we knew for sure. Shortly after the squealing stopped, Mr. Piggy was on top of bench (where a child was napping earlier) getting his skin boiled off. Anyone for bacon?

By the end of this day I was desperately in need of a shower. Maria thought so too as she kept trying to brush the mezcla (cement) off my clothing. After the 45 minute ride home, I had one of the most wonderful, most needed showers of my life. 

End of day. Trowel in one hand, Maria in the other.

The story continues...

So I checked back into reality today. Got to the office around 7:30 am and after a download with the boss man I spent more than hour just sorting through my emails (junk, not junk, action items, non-action items.) There’s a to-do list somewhere in there. I guess I’ll get to that on Tuesday. I also reactivated my phone today. My phone was stolen in Honduras the night before we left. It’s amazing how dependent we are on those things. At 8:00 pm I set a kitchen timer for 9 hours and 30 minutes. It would serve as my alarm clock. (thank goodness it worked)

It was funny to hear from my coworkers that I looked refreshed but I think that is just exactly how I feel (felt). It reminded me of a song that I’ve had stuck in my head over the past few days.

Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place

I can feel His mighty power and His grace

I can hear the brush of angel’s wings

I see glory on each face

Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place

But as I think about the presence I’ve felt over the past week, I’m also reminded of the importance of another type of presence.

Taken from the pages of my “40 Days to Personal Revolution” book by Baron Baptiste:

Someone once asked the Buddha, “Are you a god?”

“No,” He replied.

“Are you a saint?”

“No.”

“Then what are you?” they asked.

“Awake.”

My hope for each of you is to be awakened in your own life. To be present in everything you do and to feel the presence of your god.

Day two

By far the shittiest day of the trip….

We convened on the porch for devotion at 7:30, followed by breakfast of beans, plantains, eggs, pancakes and chorizo. This would be the only day we slept in the entire trip. After breakfast we traveled to San Francisco to visit the people we would be serving. We were greeted by singing, praise, dancing and marimba playing. Afterwards we walked to the Alpha Y Omega church and soup kitchen which would serve as home base for the week ahead. We split into groups to deliver bags of food to the local families. On one of our visits, I witnessed as a family asked God into their hearts for the first time. We prayed for their health. We prayed for new opportunities. We prayed that they would always feel the presence of God’s love.

As we were waiting for the bus to pick us back up, a shitty thing happened. A bird dropped a load of crap right onto my head. They say it is good luck to be crapped on by a bird.  At the end of the trip, when no one was injured and only a few had experienced the revenge of Montezuma, I feel it was a just sacrifice.

After the 45 minute bus ride to Los Glorias, we had lunch then helped the medical team sort pills. I was able to squeeze in some hammock time but had to ignore the very loud marimba playing taking place 30 feet away.

The evening activities were quite amusing. We headed back to San Francisco to watch a 2 hour movie on Jesus. It was in Spanish and did not have subtitles, (at least I knew the storyline.) We arrived back home around 9:30 and it was straight to bed. From now on, devotion started at 6:30. If you didn’t get there before 6:15, you’d have to wait until breakfast for coffee.

And one to grow on...continued

The return

Heading to a house dedication

I  just got back from a walk with Maddox. It was our usual route but this time there was nothing usual about it. As I started down the first street I immediately felt emotional. The difference of walking on a clean paved sidewalk and not trudging down uneven paths littered with glass, trash and animal feces. I was wearing my flip flops. Half the kids we saw the past week didn’t even have those. A block down the road I passed by the elementary school, a school where every kid has the same opportunity to learn. In San Francisco I met kids that didn’t go to school because they didn’t have shoes or couldn’t afford uniforms. My little buddy Maria said her family couldn’t afford the bread and sugar and other things the school demanded.

I found myself crying.

As I continued my walk, my mind searched for answers. Should I feel guilty, angry, depressed? On the fence posts on either side of a driveway I saw two clusters of dried corn, a typical decoration for Thanksgiving. There was my answer. Give thanks. 

........................

It’s not a sprint. It’s not a marathon. It’s a mission, a mission that soon takes the form of a passion. It’s something that once it strikes, it never leaves you. At least I don’t expect it to anytime soon.

I came into the trip tired, stressed and overwhelmed by everything going on in my life. We are now down 2 staff members at work on an already small team. My dog had exploratory surgery 4 days before departure. And the vaccinations and malaria medication have caused some serious gastro distress. I was mentally, physically and emotionally drained.

Playing doctor

It took one visit to the village of San Francisco to put everything into perspective, well maybe two. But quickly the world, the “craziness”, that I feel surrounded by sometimes melted away. A hacky sack, a piece of candy, a soccer ball, a band-aid, a cup of cold, clean water, a smile. There are such small things, insignificant to most of us, which bring a world of joy to these children.

Day one

It started with a late night and an early morning. On the short flight to Atlanta the only thing on my mind was putting my arms around my parent’s necks. It had been a tough week and I needed their comfort. Even more so, I was about to travel thousands of miles away to a developing country and I was excited to join them on the journey.

Upon my arrival in Atlanta, I learned that the flight from Mississippi was delayed, really delayed. My much anticipated hug session with my parents would not go as I anticipated. I had firm instructions and they were, “do NOT get on that plane.” The gate attendants told me to get on the plane.  I was told they were holding the plane but I still waited until the last second possible to board. Finally the 29 other missionaries in their light blue shirts boarded the plane. I finally got my hugs.

Now I’m writing these entries post trip. I took a few notes each day to jog my memory, schedules, stories, moods, etc….I could just paint the rosy parts but what’s the fun in that.

Day one was the longest damn day of my life. It was very comforting to hear from Mom that the sentiment was shared. We arrive in Honduras around 11:30 am. It took some time to get luggage and go through customs. All bags and all passengers arrived safely. The rain started about the time the mission team boarded the bus, a school bus (no air conditioner). I am now in the land of no toilet tissue in the toilet and constant hand sanitizer.

Daddy and I at a dedication

About an hour later we arrived at Power Chicken, the lunch spot of choice for the past few years. I’m not really sure what I ate but I also didn’t care. I was tired, hot and in need of a shower. But then we were off to the market for an hour. While wandering through the aisles of crap I will never need, I stumbled upon what must have been a butcher’s station. There’s nothing quite like seeing a bloody leg of meat in a hot, sweaty market post lunch. (spoiler alert: I will recant this statement in a few days, more than once.) The hour at the market finally ends. At 5:30 we arrive at Los Glorias, after a two hour bus ride up into the mountains. Now one would expect the first day to be really low key. Perhaps some downtime to unpack and lie in the hammock, have a nap??? We had an about an hour so I did just that. Following that hour we headed to dinner followed by a devotional and foot washing ceremony.

By the 8:00 devotion time, I was fit to be tied. Bad me didn’t participate in the actual washing (I wasn’t the only one). I felt a pang of guilt which bubbled into anger. I wasn’t sure that I was ready for a binge fest of Jesus.

At the time, I was still focused on what I was going to be giving to these people. It hadn’t sunk in that I too would be on the receiving end of things.

Shortest post ever!

It's been one heck of a week. With 9 hours of sleep under my belt and more caffeine in my blood than a Seattle Starbucks, I finally feel human again. Tonight I will attempt to pack. And NEWS FLASH! While in Honduras I am restricted to wearing shorts that cover my knees and tops that cover my shoulders. That means no tank tops. And I have a tank top obsession. Luckily I've found refuge in some fabulous $8 v necks from Target.

So I'm leaving 2 1/2 days and I haven't packed a single thing..

Why is that?

Well my precious dog, Maddox, ate a corn cob sometime in the past week and had to have it surgically removed yesterday. Yes.....corn cob, rectum (actually intestines) but you get the joke. It's been a long 4 days. 

On top of that, I am also helping to coordinate a 4-day event for prospective companies and consultants coming to town next week.

But in the midst of all this chaos, there is much to be thankful for....

Thanks to Cleveland Park Animal Hospital for taking such great care of my boy!

Thanks to everyone for your kind words and prayers for Maddox and I over the past few days.

Thanks to the good Doc that talked me off the ledge a few weekends ago and  then went on to research the best malaria options for me. I promise to be a good roommate next week.

A bigger thanks to my parents just for being who they are. They opted for me to receive the good (expensive) malaria pills so that I won't be experiencing major gastrointestinal distress for the next six weeks.They are always there for me, even if it's 4am and I'm crying because Maddox is throwing up again.

And an even bigger thanks to my Aunt SuSu. She has volunteered to drive to Greenville and spend the week with Maddox. Aunt Pitty, as I often call her, is a great caretaker and a dog lover (among many other things) so I couldn't ask for a better nurse for the "Mad" man.

And to my coworkers, who have been so supportive and caring. They didn't even make fun of me (at least to my face) for being in the office yesterday with no make up, dirty hair and reeking of dog vomit. It's great to work for a team like ours! (We're hiring, by the way)


Job Posting: http://www.upstatescalliance.com/pages/index/about/job_openings/
 
And please, please, please follow the instructions.

#31 Continued

The 10 day countdown to Honduras is about to begin. (GULP!)

Thus far my preparations for the trip - vaccines and malaria prevention- have been about as fun as getting teeth pulled, going to the gynecologist and having poison ivy all at once...Basically, it's been miserable.


If the warning label says "might cause mild stomach upset", then you can bet this chick's digestive system is going to be more than mildly upset. I guess it's all in preparation for the possibility of Montezuma's Revenge. (I'm charming, I know).  Since we're on the subject of toilet talk, I learned an interesting fact while talking with my mother yesterday. The septic systems in Honduras are not equipped to handle toilet paper. So yes, it means all used toilet paper must go in a trash can. I'm sorry (to my mother and any person this disgusts) but diarrhea and trashcans of used toilet paper just do not go well together.

Do I sound like a prima donna? If so, I'm sorry.

Amidst all my stressing, I keep coming back to one central point. No matter what my digestive system goes through over the next few weeks, at some point whether it be through high levels of steroids, antibiotics and/or other drugs, I will return to normal physically. (gosh, I hope this is true) In an emotional and spiritual sense, I hope to never be the same. As I sit here in my well-lit and air-conditioned office, I can't even begin to imagine what it's like to live like the people we're going there to serve.

So I guess there's no better time than now to ask this...If you're into praying (or even if you're not), I ask that you begin praying for the St. Matthew's Mission Team as we travel to/from Honduras and as we work to bring a better life to the families there.

A house in one of the villages

Until next time.

# 31 And One to Grow On

It hasn’t even been 2 months since my last adventure and I’m already having withdrawals. And I don’t think I’m the only one. Several of you have encouraged me to start a new list. And that’s not happening, at least not now. Thirty is looking to be a career focused year, one that I hope will pay off in the long run.

But hold back those tears, my friends….As promised, there is at least one more adventure on the horizon. 

I am now 3 weeks away from my 31^st adventure, a mission trip to Honduras. Over the past two weeks, I’ve received my work schedule, plane tickets and malaria pills. This past Friday I went to the clinic for my vaccinations. Holy freakin’ smoke! Here it is Saturday around noon and I am still in a tremendous amount of pain.

Mom and Ruthie doing construction. This will be me very soon!

Work Schedule:

Monday:

My father, mother and I will be starting the construction of a home for a Honduran family. Over the week’s time, the mission team will build 3 homes that will house 3 families of 5.

Tuesday – Thursday:

I will be on a team conducting bible school for the village children in the mornings and sewing and crafts with the village women in the afternoons.

Friday:

Mom and I will meet back up with dad to finish construction on the home we started on Monday. Then in the afternoon, the entire mission team will meet up for the dedication ceremonies.

I’ll be posting more as time draws near. 

I actually wrote this post last Saturday. I am now only 2 weeks from departure and starting malaria meds today.