ˈin-tə-mət

"The sun loved the moon so much, he died every night to let her breathe"

I love being intimate.

You know, its just me and him.  I can feel his hands on my knee.   The sparkle in his eye.  A tiny smile plays on his lips.  We don't have to be alone.  I love when he slips his hand onto my lower back or pushes his check toward my lips. 

Its the simple knowledge that he's mine.  It makes my heart swell.  Knowing things about him that others don't even think about or better, know. 

A glance.  A smile.  Something between him and I.

I thrive on that in a relationship.  I need it to function.  I love being close to him. I love experiencing the same things as him. 

I love catching the eye of this boy I admire from across the way.  I love when he gives me a tiny wink to say, "I love you."

I love getting a light hug, a sweet little kiss, a tiny slap on the butt.

I love when you go to leave the room, but can't quite leave until you come back and give me one last kiss.  Its like that moment is required for you to continue your day.  The way you reach for me a night to snuggle.  Pulling me close to you as if I'm your security blanket. 

When I catch those quick and quiet glances I let my heart melt and feel at peace because I was just told without words that I'm loved.

H.E. loves me.  I know this without  needing to stand by him while we're out or be with him 100 percent of my day.   

I love doing different things and coming back to him.

I love the way he takes care of me without even thinking about it.    Bringing me home my favorite drink.  Doing the dishes at night.  These little things are tiny strings that make us stronger.

I loved the day you grabbed my nose and said, remember the good times.  So this, babe, is me remembering the good times.  Me loving that you are not the same as the boys in my past.  Me loving you for loving me.

In regards to my post yesterday-

My post yesterday was not judging people by their highlight reel and it didn't go where I had intended.  When I was running, I was thinking about the post about other peoples fitness and such.  My main thoughts were about a body builder and bikini competitor named Jenny.

She's in her mid-40's and posts about struggles with food and such.  I guess, a point that can be added to yesterdays blog is that even the best struggle.  And for what?

This is her post via facebook:

"Feedback in bullets from this past weekend's competition... All of which I knew going in but it was so helpful to hear it from the panel:
1) Too lean
2) Too vascular
3) Too hard
4) Glutes need work

Like I said, nothing new. I'll write more about it later, and I have been adding a ton of my feelings and pics to my Instagram account (FYI), but I know this time at age 42, I brought my best package y...et to the stage. Getting too lean continues to be an issue. Crazy. But it's the reality. I know my physique has changed a lot in the last few years. I've put on some hard earned muscle which I really really really wanted. I've brought out my lats. I've pulled back my shoulders. I've got round little hamys. I've worked so hard. But on stage, I was like a fish out of water. I stood next to some absolutely beautiful and equally deserving gorgeous figure competitors, and had I been at the judges table, I too would have docked me down and gave higher placements to others. I'm super proud of each of them, and I am still very proud of me. Remember...the journey..."

 

She struggles just like we do.  Albeit at a different level, a struggle nonetheless.

 

She has a blog that I sometimes read.  I used to follow it for the food, but she's changed into a more personal blog about her struggles with getting ready for her competitions, which is perfectly okay, just not something I need to read.

 

Although, with that said, her blog fits perfectly in my post for yesterday because you can see even the best (and yes, I do think she is one of the best) have their troubles.....so NO judging from the highlight reel people!!

 

Jenny's playground can be found below:

 

http://jen-fits-playground.com/2013/07/i-can-do-hard-things/

 

I'm a fire

When I see him, a rush of insecurities come flying back into my brain.  All of the things he ever said to me that I've taken to heart comes flooding back.  And I get lost in those thoughts.  With that, feelings of needing to prove him wrong comes back with such a force it takes my breath away.

Just as I think I'm drowning, I catch a glimpse of my safe harbor and I reach out and land safely in the arms of the one who loves me for me.  He sees my mess, feels every ounce of my passion and still embraces me for me.  He calls me beautiful and tells me he'll be there until the end of time.  He knows my flaws and tells me he loves me anyway.

A conversation with Mat today brought out a realization that I hadn't seen before.  He is my mirror and when he's at his worst, I can think "this is how I am at my worst" and this is an opportunity for me to step back and say, this is how difficult I can be.  What would I want him to do for me in this moment.

I am cognitively going to take this on and apply this to our relationship.    Because at the end of the day, this boy isn't afraid of my flames or the heat, he knows the pressure from these makes a diamond, not sand.

With my shoulders back, I let my hips swing and my feet fall......

I'm not a runner.  I tell myself that I am, but I'm not.  I see girls who are running and I am jealous.  Not for those skinny girls but the bigger ones.  I saw a girl running the other day, up hill.  She was large and I watched her as we passed and she didn't stop running up hill at all.  Not when people passed her, not when she ran past five shops, not at all.

I was so impressed.  I am always impressed when I see people running.  You see their brow furrowing and their breaths are so heavy their shoulders are taking a beating.  Huffing and puffing, you can always assume a runner is 12 miles into their run, no matter how far they actually are. 

I want to know their backstory; have you always run, what got you started, how do you keep going, do you race, what are your goals, why aren't you listening to music??

I have found that running clears my mind.  It gives me energy and makes me feel fantastic.  It has always been a stress reliever for me.  Whether it be my boss or my partners, people would see I'd be stressed and they would say, take a break-go run. 

I want to let go of my insecurities of running.  I don't know the other persons story therefore, I can't judge them against myself.  I don't know what their goals were when they started.  I can't compare apples to apples. 

In the same respect, don't be intimidated by me.  I might not be huffing and puffing, but that's because I'm 2 miles into my 3 and I've walked the last 1.2 miles.  I am not in shape.  I don't even know what that means to be fair.  I've always struggled with my weight and my breathing and my pant size. 

I just want to say to the girl I passed on the trail, I'm sorry for passing you.  Its not because I'm better its only because my legs are longer and my stride is deeper.  I couldn't help it.  I couldn't comfortably keep your pace, although I would have liked to.

Although- I have a question, is there an app out there that lets me keep my pace and tells me if I'm above it or below it?  I am looking to run about 9/min/mile for all 3 miles of my jog, but I can't seem to keep a steady pace.  Thus looking for an app that screams at me if I go faster or slower than my set speed. 

Just an idea........

I'm sorry I make the bed wet

Actually, I'm sorry of what happens to the pillows with me making the bed wet.  I'm also sorry that you get upset about me making the bed wet.

BUT let me tell you something, I LOVE coming into bed after my warm shower.  I love snuggling up in my towel with my wet hair and warm body.  I curl up in the corner with my mass of pillows and grab my laptop and type and read and think.  I love it. 

So while I can't feel remorse for the bed wetting, I do feel slightly guilty that you hate it so and I won't stop.

Tell whoever said, "running away isn't the way" to fuck off.

For a while now, I've wanted to take a moment from life and sit down to pen my thoughts.  Not just any ordinary thoughts, because we all know I have a zillion; but my thoughts on why running away is such a great idea.

When I left my husband, I immediately started to travel.  By travel, I don't mean to the next town or state, I mean, I flew to the other side of the world.  For about a year after I left my hometown of Emlenton Pa, for anywhere in Australia, my mom would ask me, "When are you going to stop running?" or "What are you running from?" 

To outsiders; the answer seemed easy enough: myself.  And friends would post "inspirational" sayings on my facebook wall, " no matter where you go, there you are."

I didn't have an answer for my mom and friends, and for a while I thought the answer could be my old life or my family.  However, I can sit down, two years later, and say I wasn't running away from anything. 

In all honesty, I had always wanted to travel, to see the world and had always felt as though I had bigger plans than getting married and having kids.  My decision to leave that life by getting a divorce from the one who held me back was only the first step toward becoming who I am.  I have become more free spirited and a seeker of all things that make me happy. I dream big hairy audacious dreams.  I've changed for the better!  I am now someone who cares where my food comes from.  I am someone who has finally learned to cook.  I am now able to say I am not afraid of the future or being alone.  I do yoga and run for fun!  I have become what I've always dreamed of being!

“Pitiful is the person who is afraid of taking risks. Perhaps this person will never be disappointed or disillusioned; perhaps she won’t suffer the way people do when they have a dream to follow. But when that person looks back – and at some point everyone looks back – she will hear her heart saying, “What have you done with the miracles that God planted in your days? What have you done with the talents God bestowed on you? You buried yourself in a cave because you were fearful of losing those talents. So this is your heritage; the certainty that you wasted your life.”
-Paulo Coelho

People no longer feel as though I'm out of my  mind, while they can't understand why I've chosen the life I have.  In all honesty, the fact my path wasn't the same as theirs was astounding to them and the abrupt way I left shocked them into gossip.  As they see the person I've become and my happiness, they no longer suggest I seek counseling for being reckless and childish.    They have learned, I hope, to appreciate my taste for a different life. 

I sit here on a beautiful winter day in shorts and tee, comfortable with this place I have settled on as home.  I want to shout from the roof tops to all those who feel trapped in their mundane lives, "RUN!"  The key to your freedom is hidden in your heart and only you should guide your future.  Your mind has been fed by society and what you know around you; but your heart has always known what you want.

Run away, look back, make wise decisions, feel fear, make mistakes with confidence, fail with a smile, return home without shame, and leave again when you're rested.  You'll have stories to tell  and people to meet, sex to be had, love to fall in and out of, but most importantly, you'll cut the weeds away to see your true path in life.

You have the power to say this is not how your story will end and every misstep you take and every success you have is another paragraph in your book of life.

So WRITE on and run away!


xoxoxoxo



* this post is dedicated to my dear friend PK who knows that living doesn't mean in a box.  She has taken life's chances and said, I know that I'm the one who writes my story.  She doesn't allow shit to bog her down and is famous for her support in my life to do the same!  It's also dedicated to a friend of mine who once told me, "I don't know why you're choosing what you are, but even though I don't understand, doesn't mean I can't support you in your happiness."  Thanks YM.

I didn't steal anything; just trying to recover my sanity.

 

This is a good quote to coincide with the reason I was upset

I think today is a good day to get caught up on Mad Men season five and to spend it emotionally eating as one does.  Last night was the first night in over a year that I went for a run when I was upset.  Its funny to me how one forgets things they used to do.  I remember pushing aside my fears of the night to go for night runs.  Funny thing is, is if I get lost in the movement and my breathing I forget that I'm afraid of the dark.  However, I realize how much I love running at night. 

"Running at night: People think you stole something."

Its the best emotion relief.  To run.  It clears your head when you have cluttered it with thoughts.  To slip your shoes on and walk out the door and smell the night time air.  Its probably, easily, the most beautiful part of the entire 24 hours of a day.  The stars and the city lights.  The silence of everyone who isn't there.  Running past homes with their lights on and you can hear families in the kitchen or watching TV.  Why am I not running at night more often?  It allows for the cover of darkness so you can be alone in this big world.  Its beautiful.  I am going to start doing that more often.

I'm going to get back the things I love doing, one at a time.

Today: my wish is for the innocence I lost before my desires took over.

I am now plagued with the curse of wanting to be a published writer.  I have envy that I have never had before.  Today: my wish is for the innocence I lost before my desires took over.

I can't help it.  As someone who has been writing my entire life, my first novel was at the age of 13.  I feel as though this nipping from Elephant Journal is exactly what my hungry libido is in need of.  I crave the simple acknowledgement that someone else officially things my ramblings are worthy of a spot on their blog. 

Who can help it?  I mean, I had given up trying to "make it."  I was successfully turned away from every project I had submitted as a kid.  As I aged, I realized that many people in life have dreams of having their thoughts heard by the world, and then they grew up.  They moved on to be other things, like doctors, lawyers, and maybe strippers.  Who knows.  Me?  Well, I haven't turned out to be much.  Someone who seeks happiness instead of letting it come to me.  Someone who loses interest in things far too quickly.  In fact, one of the things Elephant Journal told me about my writings is that they're too short!  haha, what else should I write I about I think?  So then, I go into overload and start rambling.  Surely they don't want rambles? 

I guess we shall see. 

I have enlisted some friends of mine to help me with the rewrites.  I'm looking for changes that maybe used in my rewrites.  Anything really, but mainly, I'm seeking their personal opinions on the data I sent them.  I would hate to have my writings offend anymore people.

FUCK!  I want to shout off the roof tops how excited I am.  But then don't want to jinx myself.  patience my inpatient self.  If its meant to happen it will.  Zen.  Mindfulness.  All this stuff that I learned over the last few years is going to come in handy while I pretend to wait patiently on my lily pad. 

Enough.  Off to do some real writing.....I have another idea for a submission.  

Adios!

Step into the mess for a bit.

Hello again, my little piece of the world.  I have been gone for a week or so.  While it is true I have not showed my face here, my mind has been here the entire time.  Although, to be 100% honest, I have been cheating with a new blog space.  I'm obsessing about my body again and have decided to start a new blog: http://cleaneatingwithadirtymind.blogspot.com  For the last few years I've been vowing that I want to take some cooking classes and/or learn to cook.  With no employment at the moment, and the uncertainty of what lays ahead, I haven't wanted to invest too much into volunteering so I'm taking this time to enjoy the kitchen.

What else do you ask?  Well,  PIB and I went rock climbing on Sunday.  It was a beautiful day here in Brisbane.  The entire time I was on the wall I was blogging in my head.  The feel of the rock under my fingertips, the trust you put in your shoes, the hard and longer  you climb, the warmer you'd get.  There were so many parallels with life when climbing, I just couldn't stop the thoughts.

Thus a entire post was blogged in my mind while climbing bottle stopper at KP.  However, I didn't take any opportunity to write it down and thus, I can only write about thinking about my post.  I took forever to get up the climb though.  Poor PIB was wondering what the heck I was doing - Bottle Stopper is only a 14; however, I would pause at easy holds and feel up the wall.  In all honesty, I was thinking about how many options we have in life and how when we don't trust the elements in front of us; we tend to take a different path.  Even if we know ourselves and we know the other information is solid.  If we hesitate, we don't get the same results then if we just jump into things.  I was also thinking how its funny that when you grab a really nice hold, if you didn't think about your next move before taking that hold and moving on, then you might be fucked in the end when your decision to hold on to the "marriage hold" left you in a bind further up the wall.  Therefore, sequencing is a good idea, not just when you're on the ground, but all the way through the climb.  Just because something looks perfect from one point of view, it might not take you where you need to go once you're in a different point of view.

Blah, blah.  Okay, enough of my babbling for now.

xoxoxoxo

Boudoir

I'm on a new mission.  This mission is to find my body again.   When I left Nathan, I had gained so much weight.  Mainly due to the birth control, of which we could tell due to when I stopped my birth control I dropped 20 pounds right off the top.  That encouraged me to continue to work hard.

I've always done some sort of exercise.  I've never been good at it and have always strived to enjoy it. In the end, the realization that I keep doing it does mean I enjoy it.  I love the results, how I feel, and the community of people it draws in.  In the last two years, I've found it very difficult to work out, managing to get little workouts here and there.  In the past maybe, six or so months, I've put on some noticeable weight.  I've spent the last two weeks working toward a workout goal and plan.

Gym three days a week, rock climbing two - three days per week, and cardio at least two days a week.  I haven't been faithful to cardio (but when have it?).  I am also trying to get my eating under control.  I notice now that it takes more for me to feel fuller.  I need to retrain my stomach to realize when its full.  So I have some massive amounts of work to do.

I have noticed some small improvements in my body over the last week.  I'm thankful that my body has some awesome memory.  It doesn't take me long to regain my strength and shape; however, its the persistence that I am needing at the moment. 

I've decided the best way to get myself motivated is another photo shoot.  Super excited about this one.  The last one I wasn't heavily prepared.  So for this one, I will be.  I'm scheduling it for September .....one year anniversary and two months of hard work. 

I need to stop craving sugar!! Desperately!  Kara is making some yummy paleo treats.  Which is good for me, because like her, they stop my sugar cravings. 

Goals:

• Thinner Legs
• Flatter belly
• Bubbly butt
• 1:58/ 500 m Row
• 1000 meters in four minutes
• Squat 50kg ten times
• Run 5k once a week
• Drink more water

So that's 8 runs, 8 weeks of workouts, less chocolate, pee more, and one cheat meal per week.

I've got this.

A girl knows.

This is generally a place I can bare my soul.  And for the last two to three years, I've been successful at doing that with no to limited reservations.

Today, is going to be one of those days.  It hasn't happened in quite sometime. 

Last night at climbing was different.  The glances.  The awkwardness.  I'd just like to document on this day, I know something aside from friendship has commenced.  He looked guilty.  They kept their distance with one another.  They are both awkward about it.  I'm pleased to announce that I'm feeling nothing.  And I need to note this here because of the fear I felt about the idea of them together.

But even with PIB and I having hard times lately, I feel nothing toward this thought.  I feel nothing toward him.  Its such a huge accomplishment for me.  I have spent the last year feeling as though we had some things unresolved, but in all honesty, we don't.    This, makes me happy.

Sad, that I've wasted the time....but happy that I'm over it. 

Now, to onto PIB and me.  We're strained.  We're both always on edge with one another.  This makes me wanting to apply for this visa even less.  I don't want to go into spending this amount of money, him sell his car and we break up.  I think in all honesty, I need to see him less at this moment.  I love him to pieces, but we get under each others skin at the moment.  We need some time apart.  Sometime to do whatever we want without the other person and just see each other on a limited basis. 

Not sure how he would take that.  Worse, how we would do it.  So we just sit by and watch our relationship crumble.  Maybe its not crumbling?  We have a good foundation.  I know that.  We both enjoy each others company.  We trust one another.  We spent the other night going over what we felt was needed.  I know we love each other.  We both know love isn't enough.  I don't know how to take what we've built and make it what we want for the future.  I don't want to leave him.  I know this.  I know I want to be with him.  I just don't know how to make it happen.  Not force it.  Isn't that what I've learned the last few years?  Butterfly, lillypad....you know.  patience and persistence. 

I love this boy so much.  He makes my heart swell thinking about him.  Even after a year.  I get butterflies when I see him or catch him looking at me.  Although, I find him doing that less.  I guess that might be one thing I've had a problem with.  Before, I felt like he wanted to be with me and wanted to do things with me and he seemed to put effort in.  That is gone.  Or heavily diminished to be fair.  He did help me at the gym today.  THAT was perfect!  Exactly what I needed.  Encouraged me to keep going.  Helped me with the heavier weights.  Was very good.  Albeit boring as fuck for him! hahaha.....that's what makes me love him though.  Things that he does for me.  lately, I just feel really like he doesn't want to do anything.  He goes to work, comes home, watches tv....sleeps.  He doesn't mind rock climbing in there somewhere, although we've always been different when we went to the gym.  I climb casually, chatting away with friends and pushing myself gently, whilst he pushes himself the whole time.  Minimal talk.  More climbing.  haha  He needs his old group of friends to climb with.  That would make him happier I think.  Although, I want him to push me to be better.  I want him to be stronger and pave the way for me to follow.  Maybe that isn't going to be our thing.  I can handle that. 

In the meantime, I need to figure out what is going wrong.  What is the thorn in our side.  How to fix it.  Make things right with us.  hmmmmm........

patience.  understanding.  kindness.  openness.   I want us.  I want him.  How to save it before I damage it.