#truelove (Taken with instagram)
Awakening.
Who am I?
What do I want?
What’s my purpose in this life?
What are my unique skills and talents?
What do I expect in a meaningful relationship?
Soul profile.
I am not one for coincidences. I believe that what we encounter crosses our paths for a reason. We just have to be aware. I read (I believe from Chopra) also that once we begin to take notice of these ‘coincidences,’ we will notice they begin to occur more frequently.
An overwhelming desire drove me to East Texas to visit friends, to escape the city, and to feel a certain peacefulness. I had been feeling the need to grasp myself, to escape and rediscover myself. I longed for my drive that had typically occurred so effortlessly. Instead of continuing a cycle of numbing emotions and waking to a worse situation, I chose to replenish my ambition, my optimism, and to further my spiritual growth.
I have since noticed little insights and inspirations…. From skimming across “to truly know oneself is to lose oneself” to Deepak’s questions for spiritual awakening, I just feel what I have found (or what has found me) has been exactly what I needed to read.
Ride to Eat MC
As I looked in the tiny side mirror on the motorcycle, I tossed the desire to let my mind dance in daydreams of our past memories, opting instead to completely enjoy the moment I was currently in. Feeling the wind, leaning into the curve…. Having just pulled from the driveway, he asked if I wanted to go for ice cream. I giggled as he yelled at the car in front of us at the next stoplight—knowing exactly who I inherited the slight road rage from. We parked at Braums and as he helped to retighten my borrowed do rag, he told me we belong to the “Ride to Eat” motorcycle club versus the “Ride or Die” MC. :)
He said, “Saaaay….Harley….Say Motorcycle Mama.”
“homework”
In an effort to delve into my dad’s childhood and adventures, I mailed this book to him a couple weeks ago. As a more emotionally reserved man, I thought it might be easier for him to write his story rather than tell me in person.
So, I walk in to my dad’s house on a recent trip to the country, he immediately tells me he has yet to complete his homework. (ha) I couldn’t help but smile as I read his handwritten description of various childhood homes, detailing how my grandfather had built one of their houses and “for some reason painted it pink.” I absolutely can’t wait to read the finished product.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Interview with “Richard, The Mole.”
Skit with Shane Bell.
Lucy’s ears perked. As a shitzu terrier pup, she heard clanking sounds from the kitchen before the noise was able to reach my roommate.
Amy: I heard that too, Lucy. Hmmm, pots & pans? Ah, thief can take those.
Amy: Wait, that can’t be Kristin.
Later…over the breakfast I cooked for us:
Me: You probably thought we had a robber in the house instead of me up, at this hour, cooking.
Amy: Yea, I guess I failed at shooting the intruder. But good thing..I might’ve shot you on accident.
Me: That’d be one hell of a way to start Monday with a bang.
turning the page
The sight of a simple crease, intended only to mark a page when you read this same book, stimulated an overwhelming sensation. Reading the words not only brought tears to my eyes because it felt as if we were in the same place, but I knew I ultimately had to turn the page.
The shapes and dots, fueled by insomnia, incessantly whirled around the dark room despite desperate attempts to drift away and shield their entrance into my overactive imagination. Dawn approached with her seemingly inseparable accomplice, perky and persistent Alarm Clock. The adjacent snores induced a mild case of slumber jealousy syndrome. Before able to slightly nudge and free those nasal airways, as was my original intention, I suddenly froze. I blinked my eyes repeatedly, startled for his face had transformed to hold the same outline of yours. I weeped as the memories, our precious moments, flooded the room. Instinctively, I longed for those tears to drown the loss of you, but they burst through strength’s facade. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to feel your presence. And for just that moment, his arms were yours holding me tight, whispering that everything would be alright.
Seven Bridges Road
Mixed with laughter, the harmonious sound of The Eagles drifts to the top of the staircase. She sits while listening to her father and buddies enjoy life, yearning for the day when she may join in on their game of pool.
She jumps up from her spot at the top of the staircase to race down the hallway and bound into bed; all the while hoping the music drowns the sound of her feet pitter pattering against the hardwood floors. Forcing back a smile, she pretends to be asleep and pulls the covers tight. Having made it in just enough time, her dad quietly opens the door to ensure his daughter is asleep before returning to play more pool with his motorcycle friends.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Seven Bridges Road elevated those fond memories to my thought surface. My hair blew freely in the wind as I drove on the open black top road in an effort to clear the mind and remedy temporary woes. I neared the destination with anxiety steadily mounting, my heart beat attempting to override the sound of such nervous thoughts. Worries soon vanished after hearing the results of my dad’s most recent cat scan. To both his and the doctor’s surprise, no cancerous spots were found.
Here’s to hope and many more miles!
With love & a smirk.
In the spirit of Christmas, I thought I would write about my brother and I’s family tradition of prank gifts. Rather than purchasing one another a present to exchange later, we play a continuous game of seeing who will top the other in the realm of embarrassment.
I remember standing in line with a gift card at Best Buy when my eyes scanned the room only to stop at a Brokeback Mountain DVD display. With a sly smile, I bought a copy for my older, somewhat close minded, brother who just happens to break horses and live a true cowboy lifestyle. Prior to placing that little box under the Christmas tree, I opened the case and taped the gift card on the inside… only to wrap it with extra enthusiasm and love later.
For: my sibling who should’ve let me play with his friends more growing up.
Love: Knucklehead.
Seeing his face turn various shades of red upon opening his present provided me with a different kind of holiday joy. The following years since that Christmas have seen a mix of mischief, from my receiving granny panties to introducing pretend boyfriends, and leaves me with only one question…..
What to do this year?
innocence.
I drove by my innocence on farm road 1000, rerouting my mind to a time before life pulled the emergency brake.
The tomboy races her comrades around the pasture also known as their obstacle course. Hopping over fences and bones, she was ultimately led to a kiss between two hay bales.
My best friend crashed into a tree on the brink of manhood at the fresh age of 14. Unbuckling his seat belt on the familiar road, he left his family with only a handwritten note. When I was younger, I used to fantasize that he and I would share a cup of coffee and reminisce about the good ole days. Reality collided with my depiction when I lost Wade; I realized the magnitude of what I didn’t know. Initially, I drowned in a sea of sad songs and memories, but I ultimately understood that we must utilize the time we have to our best ability….to go for our dreams before they have the chance to become a distant memory.
alive for lightning
Exhaustion creeps closer as I set the Stella purse on the tile floor in Terminal E. I choose to rely on an adjacent pole for support, and I spot my silver bag slide down the conveyor belt, slightly heavier when compared to our departure. The dancing thought of a memory foam within the vicinity spurs enough fight for the daze, and I am able to momentarily shake the jet lag….
I tend to make lists: ‘to do’, grocery, goal, schedules, books/movies, etc. Something about those scribbles must satisfy a need to feel organized because despite their purpose, I tend to forget the damn post-its at home. May seem like a contradiction, but I also pride myself on being an adventurous person with a love of spontaneity. It amazes me how often I plan, attempt to map out the contents of the next day….but yet, what I plan is oftentimes tossed aside for a sparkly alternate route. According to my calendar from two weeks ago… this past week, among the errands and classes, was set to be nothing out of the ordinary.
However, life and an awesome friend intertwined to present an opportunity for a magical week in Monte Carlo. Uncertain when lightning of this magnitude may strike again, I cleared the calendar to jet set. In the words of another, my giddy “Oprah giveaway day face” beamed with excitement. I managed to divert the urge of purchasing a lottery ticket, opting instead to board the plane for my first adventure in Europe.
The luggage contents freshly unpacked; the adventure is now a collage of marvelous moments…
[Flash 10 is required to watch video]
Welcome to the ‘oversized bumble bee’ ride. Recommended to all….except maybe those with a hangover.
