Where have I been, you might be wondering? Well, I hope at least someone has been pondering my disappearance from the blog-o-sphere (it’s ‘hip to call it that right? That’s how the cool kids ‘jive’?).
Anyway, life lately (as I hear tends to happen this time of year) has been quite hectic, and I have been through nothing short of a whirlwind of emotions. I don’t want to get into too many details, as this is a public blog, and I do aim to be somewhat professional (if you can forgive the occasional swearword that is).
I feel at a bit of a crossroads right now, and I am feeling the need to make some big girl decisions and to seek out and seize some new opportunities. And all this ‘seeking and seizing’ has really got me thinking about the lessons we learn as children <insert wavy, dreamlike lines indicating a flashback sequence here>.
When I was wee (it’s not hard to imagine a wee baby Jessi, just picture me now, but with a smaller head), I almost drowned while fishing with my grandpa. I, of course, remember very little of this event. Only a flash of my grandpa shouting my name over and over again (he must have been looking for me?) and flashes of my crying all the way home in the aluminum boat. Despite being so young, and remembering very little, this event developed into a pretty nasty fear of the water that stuck with me for the majority of my childhood.
Unfortunately for me, my parents had a boat, and loved to water ski and tube. At first, even the thought of getting into the boat elicited screaming and crying fits from me. Slowly though, I managed to feel ok riding in the boat, as long as I didn’t have to go into the water.
I realize now what a pain in the butt I must have been, but I truly was terrified.
Eventually, I think I must have gotten tired of being scared all of the time. My parents enrolled me in swimming lessons, which I enjoyed, and which bumped up my confidence in the water. One day, I decided to go on the tube behind the boat.
I pretended I was having fun, for the sake of my parents, but I remember the terror I felt. I remember how tightly I held the handles so that I wouldn’t fall off. How my muscles ached for days afterwards from being so tense.
One day, one of my parents (it must have been my dad, since he had much less patience for my shenanigans) told me to relax. “You don’t have to hold on so tightly,” he reminded me, “Plus, if you do fall into the water, you have less chance of hurting yourself if your body is relaxed.”
Well, he was right of course, and eventually I learned to let go. To loosen up. To confront my fears and to enjoy the ride. I know this all sounds incredibly cliche, but I realized today that this is a lesson that I have carried into my adult life. I have, mostly, learned how to let go, how to not dwell on things. To be positive, to be calm. To have fun. But it is a delicate balance.
Right now, I am trying to insert this valuable lesson into my life. But it is difficult to know when you should just let go and walk away, and when you should take a stand, and defend yourself. So, this is where I am at right now.
I haven’t been cooking much, so no recipes to share. Luckily Dan has been cooking up a storm for me. Yesterday was homemade chana masala! I have still been working out, and I do intend to update my 30 day challenge page this weekend.
I will be back soon, hopefully with some more delicious recipes to share, and less sappy stuff.