+ Her Barefoot Heart

Tag: asking

who you gonna’ call?

Walkingwednesday5

around here, a folks ask the heavenly father for things. mostly they ask that his will be done.
i’ve never been good at that – at asking some male being to be in charge of deciding what’s best for me, to make decisions about my life with no input from me – and i stopped all communication with the one they call heavenly father a long, long time ago, choosing trees and sky and clouds and friends and family instead.

if you want to know the truth, i’m not all that good at asking anybody for anything in part because it makes me feel needy and weak and whiny and in part because i’m often disappointed when i depend on somebody else to be in charge of my well-being.

but

last week i was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place, so i asked y’all for support, and you didn’t disappoint.

not one little bit.

i got an ark full of voicemails and text messages and emails and fb messages. i even got notes and cards and one beautiful stone in the mail. and the stories – oh my goodness, the stories y’all shared from the pages of your own life. what a gift the stories are. i don’t know when i’ve felt loved and supported and comforted like never before. thank you.

and when i say “i”, i mean “we” – alison and me, both.

alison will have at least a portion of her thyroid removed. we’re all hoping they can leave enough to keep the thyroid chugging along, producing its hormones – you know, it turns out that the thyroid is a little organ with big responsibilities. anyway, surgery is scheduled for 10:00 a.m. tomorrow (wednesday, 3/19/14 depending on when you are reading this). maybe you could send another wave of support via whatever means you’re most comfortable with? maybe you would be willing to talk to your go-to on our behalf? we’d all appreciate that so very much.

on today’s menu: existential stew

TheBarefootHeart

i don’t know why people turn away from the nancys of the world.
i don’t know why i find them so much more desirable to be with than hoards of “normal” people i know.

i don’t know why some folks steal other folks’ thunder.
i don’t know why that makes me so damn furious.

i don’t know which colors are analogous and complementary.
(oh, i know where to look it up,
i just don’t know why i can’t remember that.)
(or why i think i should.)

i don’t know what makes for a good hug
(i just know when i get one.)

i don’t know where to add on to our house.
i don’t know why i can’t seem to live a fine life with only what will fit into a backpack.

i don’t know how some people can be so absolutely sure about things.
i don’t know why i question everything and attach qualifiers like “the way i see it . . .” or “in my experience . . . “.
(okay, i lied. i know why the qualifiers: they’re tacked on because i know as well as you do that i don’t know everything.)

i don’t know how to tailor clothes.
(and i’m fine with that.)

i don’t know why plaids and polka dots look just fine on some people
and so atrocious on others.

i don’t know why people feel an intense need to convert others.
and i especially don’t know why they act on it.

i don’t know why i can’t tell you in one short, snappy phrase what i’m about.
some folks have themes,
i have a theme park.

i don’t know which is bigger: a universe or a galaxy.

i don’t know when “earn” became a 4-letter word.

i don’t know how to tell what are load-bearing walls.

i don’t know why or how some people stay.

i don’t know how people can have deep, unwavering religious faith.

i don’t know what the magic ingredient is that has some victims moving on with their lives in the spirit of self-determination while others get all comfy in the victim hood.

i don’t know why people abuse power,
manipulate others,
lie, steal, and cheat.

i don’t know why you don’t just push up your sleeves and set about changing things if you’re not happy with your life.

i don’t know why we don’t value and practice independent thinking any more than we do,
why we don’t ask more questions,
why we roll eyes and attack people who do.
(okay, at the risk of being called a conspiracy theorist, i think i do have a theory here: people who think for themselves are hard to control. we’ll talk more about that later.)

i don’t know why knowing is more valued than not knowing.