here goes nothing. here it comes again.

random thoughts from the past week or so.

*people run funny. i'm guessing, if i could see myself run, i'd probably be a funny runner as well.

*i'm still surprised when a doctor is nice to me or other nurses.

*i'm an 80 year old woman. i'm always cold. i eat incredibly slowly. and i can't find my remote.

*saved by the bell comes on in the mornings. it's a nice welcome home.

*the people on the early morning shows are kind of douchebags.

*march was a really quick and really great month. i'm sad to see it go.

*i slacked off on my read-one-book-a-month resolution. maybe i should change the resolution to one-book-every-two-months.

*funny note i read this week a doctor wrote about one of my patients - "patient is asymptomatic, alert, oriented and bored."

*i walked around for most of the night/early morning last week with the word "sputum" on my hand as some sort of reminder regarding one of my patients.

*i never know when to give up. this time around, though, it's pretty clear there's no other choice. this is a good thing, by the way.

*supposedly, there are ghosts in the hospital. i'll keep an eye out. it does get a little creepy around there at night. good thing i have abe by my side.

*texts and emails make me incredibly happy. seriously. they make my day.

*margaritas are forever spoiled for me now. such a shame, too.

*it's nice now having a car that has electric windows and locks, an ipod hook-up, and the radio/cd control thingy (yes, thingy) on the steering wheel. and, even though it takes me 10 minutes to figure out how to unlock the door, i love it.

*i love t-shirts and flip-flops and being able to wear them whenever i want to now.

*it's bothering me how fast time is going by lately. but i guess that means life is good, right? and it really is.

*i love the thunderstorms we've had lately. especially at night.

*i can barely keep my eyes open (it's about 9 in the morning on wednesday), so i'll end this entry now.

commandment: be here now.

these seconds when i'm shaking leave me shuddering for days.

she wondered when it would all feel okay - all at once, all at the same time - and stay that way. when everything would come together and, like a flash of light before your eyes, make sense in an altogether different kind of way. when the questions would not only fade but disappear entirely and seem unnecessary. when the doubt would turn into certainty. when the what ifs would stop circling around inside her head. when the regrets would no longer seem like regrets but moments leading her here.

there were times when she would feel it. when everything would come together and make sense. when the questions no longer needed answering. when her faith in the future replaced any doubt. when she could quiet the what ifs long enough to hear the what is. when she knew it had all happened for a reason. those times were happening more often lately and, for whatever reason, she could hang onto those times longer and longer in the recent passing days. but there were still moments when, suddenly, that certainty was wiped clear.

an afternoon of conversation between old but very different friends. a picture from years ago when none of this was even a consideration. a song on the radio that hit the heart in all the right (or wrong) places. a secret wish inside herself that only he knew.

those were the kinds of moments that made clarity cease to exist. those were the kinds of moments she feared. she dreaded. she couldn't escape. those were the kinds of moments that continued to carry little pieces of her away with them.

and so she was left to wonder. would it always be this way? even on your most confident of days, would there always be a chance to get knocked down, heart first? or would there finally come a day when sureness would overcome it all and make way for a letting go?

she knew there was reason for question and doubt, for what ifs and regret, and all at once and all at the same time, she knew there was reason to have faith as well. because she knew it would all fade, it would all disappear, one day. one way or another.

[this all reminds me of a counting crows song. my favorite song of theirs, actually. "anna begins." this song kills me and has for years. so, listen carefully. YouTube - Counting crows anna begins]

anytime it rains, she just feels a lot better.

[i wrote this on a break at work.. at 3 or 4 in the morning.. so, hopefully, it makes some sense..]

and as you feel it moving in

wait until it's there; begin

i'd give you all the in between

all the time and space there needs to be

if you could find me in my out of place

i'd turn around to greet you face

here, you'll see me, new and mattered

overlooking the space where rain once gathered

there, he missed it, grounded feet

as i let it clam the best of me

i watched as effort failed to impress

and tired eyes filled with regret

but the time and space have left anew

my ever-changing heart renewed

and on my own two feet i now stand

without a need for your holding hand

watch; i'll greet you with a smile on my face

as i, with purpose, forget to remember that place

and start over in my heart and mind

repairing all you left behind

there are too many distractions waiting for the perfect time.

as a nurse, you learn quickly that, no matter how thoughtfully you plan out your night, things will inevitably come up and throw your plan off track. it never fails. there are always out of the blue additions to each and every shift and before you know it, twenty things have happened and have had to be done that you had never thought of at the beginning the evening. the best you can do, then, is to expect the unexpected.

i'm not sure why i'm able to adapt to this way of thinking so easily when it comes to my occupation (and genuinely enjoy the challenging surprises), but when it comes to my life in general, expecting the unexpected has taken some time to get used to. i guess because it's so personal - putting your plans down on paper and, more importantly, making a place for them in your heart, only to find that, because of the unexpected, what you expected will never be. and there, and yet again, a piece of you gets lost in the shuffle. the unexpected takes precedence over the expected.

when i tell people these days that i'm done making plans, they laugh in a "yeah, right" kind of way. no one believes me and, in a way, i don't believe myself. but i'm learning to take it one step at a time, to expect the unexpected in life, to know that it is all happening the way it is supposed to. and i'm okay with that now.

"i'm looking for the unexpected. i'm looking for things i've never seen before.."

remember everything, she said, when only memories remain.

i've never been one for letting go. my heart is built for holding on.

there are moments that i'll never be able to erase, memories that never escape me. and it takes very little to bring it all back. that feeling when i'm remembering it the second and third time around - it's just as vivid as the first. and there i am, living it all over again, feeling it in the same way i felt it before. and barely anything has changed.

i have to look carefully these days for that progress, that moving forward. it's there. i can feel it. but in my weaker moments when i let it all get the best of me, i seem to forget how far i've come. those moments and memories take over, that feeling comes back and, for a second or two, i am right back where i used to be. before, i'd get the wind knocked out of me and i would be stuck in that feeling. now, those weak moments happen less often and when they do, they don't last as long. they don't linger. they don't keep me down.

i don't know if it's a true moving on or if it's my determination to not let it get to me anymore. but, whatever it is, it's different than it used to be. i'm different than i used to be. and, either way, it's a moving forward.

"all forward motion counts."

those weak moments always make me wonder and question and doubt. i wonder if, even as i continue to move forward, those moments will continue to happen no matter what. because, today, during a time in my life when i can now consider myself stronger and a bit wiser, with my mind made up, i still found myself knocked down, taken aback, questioning each decision i had made to get me to this point. and i can't help but wonder, is it always going to be this way?

i am always this way - always looking back, always holding on, scared to really let go. i don't know what i'm so afraid of. maybe it's that i'll get too far away from it all to ever get it back again. maybe it's that i hate change and i'll do anything to keep things the same - or as close to the same as they can be. maybe it's because i'm afraid of the holes and the spaces it will leave in my heart.

i guess that's just a part of me and who i am. someone who can move forward while holding on and looking back. someone with room enough in her heart for the then and the now. someone who has yet to let go but is still in forward motion.

the skyline, baby, is bright tonight.

go on
listening to the night
as if there is no other way
as if there is no other place
to find your missing pieces
it was a beautiful night
for discovery
it was a long drive
alone
no background noise
just the moon and me
and the rain that made it all feel better
as the restless thoughts collided
the midnight shadows rushed by outside
making sense of the remains
those just found for the new in me
those left behind from (what seems like) another lifetime
and into the next day
the night did fade
just as the memories of yesterday
drive farther into it
into the darkest of skies
now to find your faith renewed
in the most muted of hours
where once your hands were tied
your mind wandering
your eyes straining through the darkness
now, it has all changed (a light recovered)
now, you find it there (a life restored)
your own kind of piece in the after-midnight
as the wheel takes over
and guides you where your heart should be
at this very moment
in this very time
where there is only silence
and the thoughts that no longer collide
there are pieces here you'll never understand
i've left them sheltered in my heart
but within the night
there, you will find it
there, you will find me
going on driving
just listening to the night

commandment: be here now.

my memory is cruel. i'm queen of attention to detail.

i left you there

at the most hazy of hours

when there was no time to say good-bye

(when you can't stand it. feet first)

i lost you there

at the most unexpected of phases

when there was no air left to respire

(when you can't forget it. mind first)

i feel you there

in the most stripped down of moments

when there is no chance to hide

(when you can't deny it. soul first)

i find you there

in the most inconvenient of spaces

where there is no room to cry

(when you can't evade it. heart first)

(now) i keep you there

in the most bittersweet of memories

where there is no escape; there are no ties

(when you can't erase it. head first)

even if your hands are shaking, even as the eyes are closing, do it with a heart wide open.

listen carefully: YouTube - "Poison & Wine" The Civil Wars OFFICIAL MUSIC VIDEO [HD]

new commandment: share from your heart.

"creep on in. and once it has begun, it won't stop until it's done.."

i find that even time well spent gets bent if you need it to.

-i'm wondering why people feel the need to talk so loudly. that sounds awful, i know. but, seriously, i'm right here.
-i'm thinking i've been smiling a lot lately.
-i'm thinking it's funny that i watched a video at work today called "what you need to know about incontinence." you'd be amazed what all there is to learn. yes, i'm being a smartass.
-i'm wondering what the john mayer concert will be like next week. can't wait to get a new concert t-shirt. ha.
-i'm thinking it'd be a good idea to have a john mayer concert punch card. after your fifth mayer concert, you get to go to the sixth one free. okay, i admit. i stole this idea.
-i'm wondering where my glasses are. seriously.
-i'm wondering how the 5K will go on saturday. especially considering the girls and i haven't been running lately. does walking on a treadmill quickly and on an incline count? i'll let you know.
-i'm thinking i can't wait to go to night shift. this getting up at five in the morning thing just doesn't quite get it.
-i'm thinking i just passed lance armstrong on his bike on my way home.
-i'm wondering when 90210 comes back on. nothing like the original but, still, a guilty pleasure.
-i'm thinking it's funny that this old man got all up in my grill today (ha. yes, said it) and said, "kim? kim, is that you?" no, old man. it's not kim.
-i'm still wondering where my glasses are. not in the pocketbook or car or my room. now, i'm thinking how driving will be a challenge.
-i'm thinking about my new car and how sad it will be to give up the green machine.
-i'm wondering who all will laugh when they read i'm sad to say good-bye to my old car.
-i'm thinking i'd never drink water if crystal light didn't exist.
-i'm thinking it's time to get a tattoo. but i feel the need to have a "partner in crime" when it comes to tattoo-getting.
-i'm wondering if the five pounds i've gained in the last few weeks is muscle-related or snack-induced. ha.
-i'm wondering why i just shared that bit of information.
-i'm thinking i had the best nap of my life yesterday. in the tanning bed. for twelve minutes.
-i'm thinking it's a bad idea to tell people you hate certain words.
-i'm thinking it's time to wrap this silly entry up.

commandment: edit less.

in the end, we will only just remember how it feels.

[short and sweet.]

i love being and feeling completely content right where i am. right now. in each passing moment.

for years, i planned ahead. always waiting on something.

for the better part of last year, i looked back. always hoping for some kind of return.

i don't know if the days are fuller now or if i'm looking extra carefully and noticing more. well, i do know, actually. and the truth is - it's both. every day is filled with these beautiful moments and, this time around, my eyes are wide open to each one.

"live each season as it passes.."

i know there are spring violets under the snow.

i welcomed january's falling snow
as it covered the lonely and the bare
and watched as winter's white took over
without you standing there

i've bet on daisies and tulips blooming
as petals dance across a renewing face
and i'll watch as spring's pink erases
and remembrance takes your place

i'll wait for fireflies and fireworks sparkling
as each evening gracefully stretches time
and watch as summer's sun replaces
all that you have left behind

i'll greet the breath that september exhales
as feet tiptoe over abandoned leaves
and watch as fall's warmth reassures
now without him but with new certainty

and i wouldn't change a thing. i'd walk right back through the rain.

(so it seems i decided to make the trip out to my car and back. it was nice to see the snow again).

within the last few months, i have met several new people who are now friends or near friends. these new people and i, i have found, seem to have many things in common - not just your typical things, either, but tiny, almost-random things that you would never expect to share with someone else. many differences come up as well - different backgrounds, different viewpoints, different beliefs. and, within the discussions of similarities and differences, within the discussions in general, i find pieces of me. others in my life might not have hit on these particular things (other people in my life bring out other sides of me), but these new friends are helping to highlight (i'm watching) new and different parts of me.

these new friends know it takes a while for me to open up and a while to get to know me; they know i'm just as silly and random as i am quiet and full of thought; they are learning my past and what has brought me here; they know i eat incredibly slow and drive a little too fast; they know i'm passionate about music (notice the foot tapping), writing and nursing; they know i can handle being picked on; they know i'm always thinking. they've been there.

my family knows i'm hard-headed and that when i make up my mind about something, it's next to impossible to get me to reconsider; they know i keep to myself a lot but, when i get to a point of opening up, i'll talk and talk and talk; they know i don't enjoy talking when i first wake up and that i'm moody; they know i'm a constant worrier and that i play with my hair when i get upset; they know conan and kristen wiig and home movies and dinner conversations make me laugh until my stomach hurts; they know how i have to have my diet coke; they know i have to keep the radio volume on an even number and how obsessive-compulsive i am about hand-washing. they've been there.

my friends know that i laugh excessively when i'm embarrassed or put on the spot; they know that club-type music makes me nauseous; they know i can take a joke and pick on me about being mathematically and directionally challenged and queen of the bedpans; they know i'm a smartass; they know i love taking pictures; they know talking about guys makes me blush; they know i'll always choose blue and sweet tea and that i'll almost always be wearing a cardigan. they've been there.

my family and friends - they've picked up on these things for years and have shown me how i am. i've found these things in them (they've shown me), but i didn't find these things in them (they're mine). (i hope that makes sense). and, lately, along with my newest friends, they have shown me that i'm coming back.

after going through what i did last year, parts of me shut down, parts of me were lost, parts of me were found.

in losing pieces of yourself, you not only find new, different pieces, you also realize what parts you can let go of. i'm almost beginning to think that what was lost was not really me. the parts of me that "survived," and the parts i'm finding these days - this seems to be the real me.

those "surviving" pieces come, in a large part, from my family and friends who i have always known. the new, different pieces i have recently found (or rediscovered) - they come from the newest additions to my life.

although i have known and found a lot of myself in the people who make up my life, i have learned lately (i've been learning) how important it is to know yourself first. in the past, i walked into a relationship hoping to find myself, looking for me in them, relying on them for me. given this, you can imagine how lost i felt when a relationship ended. i lost myself. at least, i thought i had. really, i had just lost who i thought i was and who i was in that relationship.

"i used to think someday i'd relax a little and be more like you. then i realized how silly that thought was. i needed to stand in my own shoes."

now, i'm walking into new friendships with people in an altogether different way - knowing myself first (or, at least, getting there) and bringing me - instead of looking for myself in someone else. and what i've found lately in new friends are the things i already knew, on one level or another, about myself. they, just like my family and friends, just bring out those pieces of me. i'm no longer looking. it's just there. they've been there.