#83 Spend an entire day in silence (losing my voice doesn’t count)

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I didn’t lose my voice. I didn’t have any errands to run outside the home. And I had a free Friday where Super Husband was away on a backpacking trip. Anyone else smell opportunity?

My intention for this day of silence included not speaking and avoiding any unnecessary noise, such as music, TV, and radio. Relaxed silence and ample time for introspection, productivity, and refreshment.

It wasn’t as easy as I’d imagined.

I had my weekly Skype date with my sister planned for Friday afternoon, so I started my “day of silence” on Thursday afternoon. At first, it was incredibly refreshing! I came home from work and, rather than turning on the news or a TV show, like I’m wont to do while making dinner or doing other chores, I got right down to my to do list.

While I claim to be a great multitasker, I’ll admit, things went a lot more speedily without the distraction of TV or even music. (Hey, I’m a dancer, and “background music” finds its way into my feet when I’m supposed to be doing something productive like dishes.) As things started to wind down, I faced my first “what now?” moment.

Evenings are usually spent with Super Husband—watching one of our favorite TV shows, sharing about our days, making plans, going over the calendar, or talking about anything and everything! So what now? In this realm of silence (or relative silence, given the road noise right outside our door), it's easier to “do as the Pioneers did” and just go to bed when the sun sets! What a concept!

Friday was easy at first. Since I’d already been silent for over 12 hours, I didn’t feel that tug for noise. You know what I mean? I’m an introvert, so I often feel like I have to warm up the voice and mind to talking that day. Otherwise, I find myself stumbling over words and abandoning all grammar! Sounds a little weird, but for me, that’s why I like to turn on the radio or an audio book during my drive to work. So it was kind of nice to abandon that practice and just keep quiet. Feels like staying in your pajamas all day.

It actually felt as if my hearing perked up, too. I became more aware of the hums and creaks of our house, the tweets of little birds in our bushes, the rustling breeze through the leaves, and the gentle swish of the neighbor’s sprinkler. Silence of the mouth seems to mean improvement of the ears—or just hearing, in general. It allowed me to hear the NON-silence around me as well as the loudness of thought. I find myself thinking more about people in my life, and turning over thoughts or ideas I’d pushed aside in busyness.

Just when I started getting really comfortable with the silence, I started noticing the music still playing…in my head! Bits of songs and lyrics kept cycling through as I sat on our porch reading travel books or folding laundry. And as the last few hours of my “silent day” wound down, I found myself humming! (Oops!) Sometimes a little laugh would escape me when I stumbled across a funny memory. And yes, I accidentally talked to myself at one point, wondering aloud why something or other was out of place…

But I was immediately aware of it! The realization made me jump a little in dismay, and then smile. This wasn’t just about completing a self-challenge but about getting quiet. Spending time decluttering life and getting quiet before my Lord. And I’m so grateful to have had the opportunity! Since then, the moments of silence I find scattered throughout my day seem richer. I’m still not really sure how to explain it. Try it and maybe you’ll see (or hear?) too!

My Precious is Looooost!

It's confirmed: Super Husband's wedding ring is (was) the One Ring. If it's gold, shiny appearance didn't convince you, the fact that it "had a will of its own" should! Sometime during the last week of May, the ring left his hand. It wasn't in any of the places he might have taken it off (to work out, do dishes, etc.). Believe me; I checked. On my hands and knees, looking in the most unlikely places imaginable, I searched.

Not on the counter, not in the recycling bin, not in the laundry. My neighbors must've thought I was insane, crawling around the lawn on my hands and knees, picking through the grass. If they'd asked, I would have told them it's because there's a slim chance he could have lost it there, while pressure washing our deck! Perfectly logical!

The scariest moment was when I was searching the garage...again..and found myself sobbing, face to the floor to look under the freezer, and repeatedly asking, "Where is it? Where is it? Where IS it?!" I thought about how much I must look like Gollum, though it didn't amuse me at the moment. I suddenly understood his crazed, anguished movements when he discovers "his precious" is missing.

I know, "it's just a thing and you still have your husband." I get that. But I also feel the sting of loss for what it was--a representation of our wedding day, our vows, the start of our forever. Not to mention, it was his grandfather's ring, with "God hath joined..." and their initials inside to remind us of their legacy of a God-centered marriage. That's not something you can replace.

Maybe we'll still find it. Maybe it'll show up as we go about the shuffle and mess of living. I'm trying to come to terms with it being gone for good, but it's just so hard to think about shopping for another ring, or looking at our wedding photos (and any photos since) where it's shown. I'm not a fan of a newer ring, even one that's more comfortable (sorry, Super Husband--just being honest). I want him to have THAT one, the one I put on his finger 3 1/2 years ago. And if he can't have that one? Do I let him walk round with a bare hand? (Well, that's how it's been for the past month. What's another 60+ years without one?!)

Not giving up on it just yet. It's either in the house or gone for good (I'd prefer the former, obviously). So, if you know any keen hobbits who may have something in their "pocketses," be sure to let me know. ;)

Reminders from My Nephew

Two weeks ago, I had the privilege of babysitting and helping care for my eleven-month-old nephew. Since our interactions have been mainly over Skype up to this point--and we've only seen each other twice in person--I wasn't sure how it'd go. He's a big "mama's boy" and doesn't usually take to strangers. (It took him at least two days to warm up to Super Husband.) But I was pleasantly surprised by how quickly we became buddies! He was laughing and "talking" to me as if he'd known me all eleven months of his life! We think it may have to do with how much I look like my sister, his "mumma."

Reminds me of how I am with relationships: shy at first; nervous at how my humor, responses to things, and personality will be taken; and eventually, reaching out for deeper friendship with open arms.

Giggles and playful shyness aside, I've also been able to get to know his strong-willed side. The side that grunts in irritation when you tell him he CANNOT fling his chicken on the floor. It's amazing to see the way he looks at my sister and yells when she calls his name disapprovingly.

Reminds me of how I sometimes act when God corrects my bad attitude. I grunt, cry, and kick my way back to where I'm supposed to be, and finally the peace and restful reassurance settle in.

Then there's bedtime. No matter how sleepy he is (or even conked out completely) when you put him in his crib, he usually wakes, stands up, and starts whimpering as soon as you move toward the door. Watching him on the monitor, I see him "cry it out" a little before laying down and eventually falling asleep.

Reminds me of how I sometimes throw "tantrums" at the end of the day, too. Even as an adult, who can regulate her own bedtime, I sometimes find myself huffing at the clock, amazed at how time has passed, and sometimes crying inwardly over the end of the day because it means no more of the good things I've enjoyed in it--the "play" of projects, the "naps" of relaxing moments, the "milk" of meals enjoyed, and the comfort of loved ones I've spent time with. If it's been a good day, it's hard to let go and move on to the next one. If it's been a bad day, it's hard to stop replaying the events and wishing you could change them.

However, just as my nephew will grow up and no longer cry at bedtime (he just turned ONE last week!), I'm reminded to grow, learn, and trust in my Father. "A one-year-old taught you all that?" Yep. He's a smart cookie with big impact, even if he's unaware of it...although, given his "knowing" smile when he reaches up to pick "Super Uncle's" nose, sometimes I think he knows exactly what he's doing--melting hearts and changing the world for the people closest to him. LOVE that little guy!

#18 See "The Lion King" musical

"NAAAAANTS INGOOOONYAAAAAAMA BAGIIIIITHI BABAAAAA!"

*ehem* Sorry. I'm still a little...lot..excited over seeing "The Lion King" musical last night. FINALLY, after 10 years of waiting!

First, a little backstory on my relationship with "The Lion King." It was quite possibly the first movie I ever saw in a theater (that I remember, at least). I was in 1st grade and I definitely cried over Mufasa's death. (Oops...spoiler alert?) It was also probably the first movie I'd seen with that harsh reality portrayed. So, the story was impressed upon my mind from the start.

I loved the songs and I was obsessed with my friend's little Nala plushie that "purred" when you moved it. I also remember being very attached to a Mufasa and Sarabi mylar balloon I brought home from an amusement park one summer. "The Lion King" was new and popular.

Fast forward ten years, and I was in high school. Sixteen. My friends told me about this amazing new musical. I had a hard time picturing a cast that was supposed to be 100% animal, but rumors of innovative puppets and costumes intrigued me. I had to see this! Still, even while dancing in an off-Broadway show a few years later, I missed out on this masterpiece. The iconic lion-head motif seemed to pop up every once in awhile, reminding me I was missing out.

Fast forward another ten years...and here I am! Living in Seattle, I knew there was a good chance the show would come around again. And when it did...*pounce* Simba style.

Only, I forgot to pounce! Confession: I waited 'til the last second to buy tickets for this week, the LAST week it's in Seattle! I wasn't sure we could make it work or if Super Husband was even interested in going. Better late than never, even if it meant we had to move date night to Wednesday and sit up in the third tier. But it was so so so worth it! (Super Husband loved it too, just FYI.)

We ate dinner at Rumba, a Caribbean-style restaurant on Pike Street, and then walked down to the Paramount Theater. The sun was setting and the blinking marquee stood out all the more in the dying light. The lobby was already crowded and I wasn't the only theater-goer staring at the ceiling. EVERY nook and cranny of the Paramount seems to be decorated with filigree and scrollwork. Breathtaking! (I'm serious. Even the bathroom has decorative molding and a fireplace...)

Our seats were taken, not because of double-booking, but because someone wasn't paying attention to her section assignment. Crisis averted. We admired the scrim, "scratch marked" stage, and decorated drums on either side of the pit (couldn't wait to hear them in action!). I decided being so far back wouldn't be so bad--you get the big picture that way.

We were both looking forward to "Circle of Life" the most, and it happened so fast! Instant chills. From the rising sun, to the back-and-forth chants of Rafiki and other animals, there was so much to look at and listen to! The costumes and puppets were even more incredible than I imagined! I was literally choking back tears--happy ones--in the first five seconds! Amazing!

The colors, set pieces, music, and dancing left nothing to be desired. I was smiling non-stop the entire first act (up until Mufasa's death, of course), so much so that my face felt stiff at intermission! And the introduction of Pumba and Timon in the scene before the break gave me even more to smile about.

To give you an idea for how great the puppeteering was, it wasn't unusual to find myself laughing at and admiring the performances of Zazu or Timon, forgetting that the actors were actually standing behind them, dressed in blue or green. It must've been a treat for those acting opposite them, being able to interact with the puppets so realistically.

The antics of Rafiki had me in stitches, and even comic lines I knew by heart were delivered so uniquely that they were given new life. That was the beauty of the show--so familiar, yet unique and exciting.

The final boom of the drum at the end was EPIC. I looked at Super Husband and made the "baby Simba" gesture from his own performance in our All-Campus Sing Off back in the day. Took a few tries for him to figure out what I was doing, and then he laughed. That's quite possibly the first memory I have of him, seven years ago, and I loved being able to share this experience with him now. It was a fantastic night.

The whole ride home, we talked about our favorite scenes/songs, the energy and athleticism of the cast, and how we'd love to see it again...maybe closer to the stage, next time? Until then, I'm content to listen to the soundtrack again and again, imagining the costumes, dances, and spectacle I've just witnessed. It'll take awhile for the feeling to wear off. Not that I want it to.

Fun fact: That quote from the very beginning of the show/movie (and this post) apparently means "There comes a lion." So glad this "Lion" came to Seattle!

The Winter of the Icky-Icky Colds

I love the way Brian Jacques, author of the beloved Redwall series, named the seasons in his books. "The Summer of the Late Rose," for example, just drips off the tongue. You can just picture the woodland creatures all basking in the lingering sunlight and warmth of a late-summer's eve.

If I were to name this season, however, it'd be "The Winter of the Icky-Icky Colds." Not nearly as charming. But, for a lack of a better description...

Everyone and their mother (not exaggerating) have dealt with one form of illness or another--all within the span of several months. (Thank you, Captain Obvious. You're welcome.) Since, chances are, you're among those who've suffered through cold after cold--each with it's own load of symptoms and general unpleasantness--I salute you. I've felt your pain. We've made it! Almost.

Spring is officially here next week! That may not mean the snow's gone (for my Midwest and East Coast readers), or that you're immune to the sneezed-in hands and snotty noses of germ-spreading children in your life. Personally, I'm gearing up for allergies and the odd colds that creep in to try to ruin my season. But I'm hopeful none of them will be quite as bad as the sicknesses that have made this winter so...memorable.

Fevers, chills, runny noses, sore throats, ear aches, stomach bugs, burned tongues (from all that hot tea we've been swigging), and annoying coughs. We bid you adieu. And good riddance!

So what should we dub this season? The Spring of the Emancipated Tissue Box? Spring of the Sudden Heat Wave? (Oh, if only!) Or maybe we can all agree on the Spring of Good Health! Mmmm-hmmmm.

Land of Aloha

Holy macadamia nuts! We're going to Hawaii next week! We've been waiting for this trip for a long time. Long before New Zealand was planned, we had our tickets booked for our first real vacation with Super Husband's family. It's also my first time visiting the Aloha state!

Last year, when my wonderful in-laws returned from their Kauai trip, they brought us back some fun Hawaiian treats--papaya salad-dressing mix and the best macadamia nuts I've ever tasted! With each indulgence in these island delights, I was reminded of my in-law's generous invitation to spend a week in Kauai with them and all the "Super Siblings!"

That day has finally (almost) arrived! And I feel so grateful to the woman who made it possible. I remember Grandma Lou, who passed away on New Year's Day 2013, as a generous woman with a zest for life and travel well into her "mature age." I cherish the memory of sitting at her table during a visit to Florida, hearing about her mission trips and other travel experiences. (I'll admit, I was pretty sick with a miserable stomach bug on that trip, but it's still one of my favorite "Grandma Lou memories" because it's the most time I got to spend with her this side of Heaven.)

I'm so blessed to be counted among her family now. Her legacy of faith lives on in her children, grandchildren, and someday (Lord willing) her great-grandchildren. We're all pretty sure she'd be thrilled we were doing this in her memory--traveling together and making new memories as a family. She'll be close in thought during our trip.

Because I'm fascinated by words, I looked up the meaning of aloha. Everyone knows it means both a greeting and farewell, but did you know it also means "love"? It's like saying, "May you be surrounded by love" whenever you meet and part. We know Grandma Lou wished us love when she made this adventure possible, too.

My Relationship with American Football

I'm not a big football fan. I enjoy a good game and took most opportunities to "watch" the Steelers games with friends in college. (I was, after all, living just north of Pittsburgh.) Confessions: I usually did homework during games and never quite understood why everyone got so depressed when their team lost. Even our own college's team lost pretty much EVERY game, but that didn't stop us from sitting through at least the first half of the homecoming game, right? Okay, maybe that was for the fireworks at half time...and for the drill team's "Superman" dance with the pom-poms, because that was pretty entertaining...

I was often (and still am) asked, "You're from New England. You must be a Patriots fan, right?" Sure. I liked watching the Pats. My Dad would watch a few of their games on occasion. The Super Bowl was a social event I always looked forward to--Patriots or no Patriots. So, yeah. "I'm a Pats fan." But I never understood their confusion when I couldn't name any players, didn't know how the Pats were doing this season, and couldn't tell them the tiniest stat or factoid about the team...except that a lady at my church was their flight attendant for several years and got us free team-logo plates and cups for a party one year! Wooohoo!

So, I'm a "hometown loyalty" kind of fan. (How's that for one thing college taught me? Think they'll give me my $66,000 back?) This stuck with me for the first year of residence in Washington state. Blame it on homesickness if you must. But by year two, I found myself actually interested in our local teams. I'll admit, I first became intrigued by the team colors. Blue and green? My favorites! Then it was the logo--a fierce-looking hawk in the Native American art style. And finally, I started watching more and more games with my growing group of friends here. Through observation and a few explanations from wiser fans, I found myself able to follow the game's progression and actually recognize (and get excited about) good plays!

*cue heroic NFL music* I became a Seahawks fan! (Now, before my East Coast crew cry foul...I still root for the Pats when I catch an odd game here and there. I love New England. I just love my new home too, K? *hugs*) This was the first NFL season where I felt like I could appreciate the journey. We'd usually have the game on in the background while Super Husband studied and I did chores, or we'd sit down when we heard it get really interesting. By the time the last playoffs game rolled around, I was jumping and cheering along side Super Husband and his family. It's been a blast!

Enter Super Bowl XLVIII! We had a great crew of friends over for blue-and-green themed treats and a great game on TV last night. *spoiler alert* (This is for the benefit of those who've been living under a rock for the past 24 hours. You can come out now.) The Seahawks won! It was a good day to be a Washingtonian, to get to see and experience the celebration first hand. First Super Bowl win ever, huh? Could've fooled me! :) Regardless of the whining on Facebook, the pointing fingers about players' personal lives and character, and how next season turns out, I think it's safe to say this NFL season has made a Seahawks fan out of me. Not a "hardcore" one, I'll admit. But a fan...and much more so than in the past. (I can actually name a few players and give you the odd tidbit about the team. And I'm pretty sure Russell Wilson is my favorite...not just because he shares my father's name. Dad, why wasn't your basketball nickname "Danger-RUSS!"???)

Anyway, just wanted to take this opportunity to say THANK YOU to the friends who made this season so much fun...and "Go Hawks!"