Wordless Wednesday: Carnival.

Be My Guest....

I had an opportunity to be someone's guest for the first time ever – blog-wise, I mean – and guess what?  I did it!

It was new, exciting, fun, and a little scary, but I did it.

A fellow blogger whom I'd known only through the Twittersphere until recently (@dubyawife) put the call out for guest bloggers on her #fitblog, and here is my post:
http://www.dubyawife.com/2013/01/guest-post-all-shapes-sizes-by-rebekah.html

It stretched me, made me think, and for the first time in a while, gave me butterflies about writing.

I highly recommend it. :-)

Wordless Wednesday: January Skies.

#26acts

When a tragedy strikes, I'm highly susceptible to becoming engulfed in its details.

I'm not saying this makes sense, or that it makes me great, or that it's part of my charm, or that it makes me kind.

(None of that is true because I'm so very human, and actually, becoming a big mess when people you don't know are hurt is really not that desirable of a trait.)

Basically, I'm just a bundle of anxiety on a normal day. So on a tragic day, I get incredibly worked up not over the grand scheme of things and how the world will play out in the end, but over how people are dealing with all they're suddenly faced with here on earth.

Who fed the babies whose mamas and daddies were in the World Trade Center towers (tummies in 2001, hearts and souls present-day)? Where are the Haitians sleeping years after tent cities became their norm? How is the landscape of Indonesia looking since that horrific tsunami? Are victims of the tragic tornadoes that struck Missouri and Alabama and Mississippi and so many other places able to pay their bills now? Who's taking care of the caregivers?

These are my worries -- or as my Grandma Johnson used to say, "great concerns" -- after tragedy strikes.

So when precious innocence was gruesomely ripped from Sandy Hook Elementary at the hands of a gunman, I wept with the rest of the world. Hard.

And at the same time, I fervently hoped the appropriate grief counseling resources were being dispatched to Newtown so those sweet survivors could, in a healthy way, learn how to process their t-ball teammate or first big school teacher or lunch buddy being gone forever.

Another part of my process post-tragedy is asking myself how I show my world love, and in this case how I watch for warning signs and loneliness, and how I'm prepared to protect others if a need arises.

Just to clarify: I in no way thinks this makes me unique. At all. In fact, Ann Curry proved it doesn't.

A longtime fan of random acts of kindness, I was thrilled when the journalist suggested the world grieve for Newtown's losses in a proactive, healthy manner. But her recommendation to commit an act of kindness in honor of each of the 26 victims whose lives were lost that day? Well, that idea was just gold.

For a while, #26acts and #26actsofkindness regularly trended on twitter. I loved being able to look up what others were doing in honor of the unsuspecting victims and their families.

I did my 26 acts, give a few (because who can stop after a while?), initially very arrogantly not expecting to feel differently than I usually do when showing kindness.

Did I ever have that all wrong.

Something about this was different for me -- tougher, even -- than a random act of kindness, or just being polite. I'm not wealthy, and not all of my acts involved money, but because of what we know about the situation surrounding this and other school shootings, I did intentionally try to show kindness to the seemingly isolated... lonely... alone... distanced. And it was truly random kindness, not something anyone could ever thank me for. (Maybe all this was in Ann Curry's parameters, which I missed. So I made up my own rules. Anyway.)

What I took away after this was not a smug sense of how awesomely fabulous rebekah is, or even a hope that the recipient might "pay it forward," but rather how strange it felt to step into someone's life, observe a bit of unhappiness, throw some brightness their way, and never be thanked for it.

For the record, it was scarier than rock wall climbing. And I'm NOT athletic.

I never feared for my life or safety, but I was a little afraid for my...inner security blanket? The one that keeps me warm and fuzzy when I need a comforting touch to remind me that I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, etc.? Maybe that was it.

So. Extremely uncomfortable assignment for this Pollyanna, but great insight into what we Christians probably should've been thinking when we saw those WWJD bracelets in their heyday. And great insight into how yes, I can strive to change my world whose players' reactions I see, but also those who I'll never see. And who aren't at all gracious to me. And who don't have time for me. And who are probably the loneliest, and unhappiest, and least grateful among us.

So, kudos to Ann Curry for turning what is typically an anxiety-ridden situation into a sociology report for me, and a glimpse into the little rebekah inside my head, and the recesses of my heart.

May the #26acts live well beyond their numbers, well beyond this year and decade, well past our lifetimes.

Wordless Wednesday: In the Mist.

If you want to survive...

As a ginger, I have a fondness for other gingers.

So my magnetism toward Florence + the Machine wouldn't really surprise anyone. 

And anyone who knows me at all probably wouldn't be shocked that I love "The Dog Days are Over." A whole, whole lot.

Lately, it's been my go-to. Big time. Even during Christmas, I kept wanting to pull up this song.

I think my favorite line could be, "You can't carry it with you if you want to survive." It's just a great way of looking at past, and present, and hope, and what's important to bring (and leave) if you ever want to move forward.

Here are the lyrics from that ginger:

Happiness hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with her drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run
Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind
You can't carry it with you if you want to survive
The dog days are over
The dog days are done

Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come
And I never wanted anything from you
Except everything you had and what was left after that too, oh
Happiness hit her like a bullet in the back
Struck from a great height by someone who should know better than that

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come
Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind
You can't carry it with you if you want to survive

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come
The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming
So you better run

And here's the song on YouTube:

I do think about the importance of the baggage I leave behind when I move forward, but not love and longing. Definitely not love. But some love....Yeah. It's best to leave behind.

I say that Florence is a pretty smart little ginger. As is that Machine of hers.

Five Things I'm Thankful For This Day.

It's been a while since I've posted five things I'm thankful for, and there's no good reason for it. So here goes:

1. My roots. Not just hair-wise, though I'm proud to be a ginger (shout out!), but my Mississippi, Southern, Gulf Coast, Protestant (specifically Southern Baptist), Moore, Johnson, and deep-woods, country roots. I love each of them, and wouldn't trade any of them for anything in the world.

2. Umbrellas. If you have not experienced the torrential rain that we have in the Baton Rouge, Louisiana area lately, just look us up. You'll see what I mean.

3. Nice people. This seems ridiculously basic, I know. But until you have reason to appreciate the "House Bunny" quote, "Mean people are mean," you won't get it. I hope you don't.

4. Technology.  It feeds my still undiagnosed ADHD. It keeps me entertained. It lets me blog. And it does much more important things, too, like saves lives. What's not to love?

5. Christmas cards.  They're better than bills. They make me smile. They remind me of why I loved going to the mailbox as a kid. That's some good stuff. And I know Christmas is over. But it's still recent enough for me to be grateful for it. :-)

My Revolution: 2013.

Since SheDaisy released "Brand New Year" 100 years ago, I've loved "My Revolution" oh so much.

Have you heard it? Here it is on YouTube:




Lyrics are here (with emphasis on parts I love):

Learning to turn the outside inside out (inside outside inside out)
Having the courage to find what life is all about
Loving so purely can surely melt a frozen heart
Knowing sometimes all over's
The perfect place to start 

Welcome to my revolution
Lucky you, lucky me
The way we were meant to be
This is my one resolution and I make it with no fear
To live, to love today
'Cause it's a brand new year 

Seeing the world through rose-colored eyes
Yeah, this is my one big chance and I'm gonna take it twice
With the past down below, I know love lifted me up here
So I'll take a breath, kiss the sky, toll the bell
'Cause it's a brand new year 

Welcome to my revolution
Lucky you, lucky me
The way we were meant to be
This is my one resolution and I make it with no fear
To live, to love today
'Cause it's a brand new year 

Resiliently reclaiming me
Refining my recovery
Untwist my fate, unlock the gate
Let's make a little noise
'Cause it's a brand new year 

Oh, welcome to my revolution
Welcome to my revolution
Lucky you, lucky me
The way we were meant to be
This is my one resolution and I make it with no fear
To live, to love today
'Cause it's a brand new year 

Welcome to my revolution, baby, yeah
Lucky you, lucky me
The way we were meant to be
This is my one resolution and I make it with no fear
It's never been so clear
Second chance is what got me here
To live, to love today
'Cause it's a brand new year 

Welcome to my revolution

One question: 

What's not to love?

Wordless Wednesday.

A Word About 2013.

Literally -- I like to assign a word or theme to the new year instead of making resolutions. (Or I think in my case, I bundle my resolutions like an internet/cable package and just choose a nice topic to keep them all in line.)

It so happens that SoulPancake, one of my very favorite new-ish website /apps /innovations (by none other than The Office's Rainn Wilson), asked their version of the concept today: Basically, what if we assigned a word to our ideas for this year instead of making resolutions? What would your word be?

I told SoulPancake as I told friends last night while discussing resolutions and as I'm telling you gentle readers now: my word this year is:

con·sist·en·cy 
/kənˈsistənsē/
(noun)

1. Conformity in the application of something, typically that which is necessary for the sake of logic, accuracy, or fairness. 

2. The achievement of a level of performance that does not vary greatly in quality over time.
(Source: google)

Photo Source: Tumblr

I like the second definition best, and obviously, this is for what I consider "mundane" tasks -- finances, chores, health situations -- you know, those essentials that pretty much keep you running properly and sane on a regular basis. Last year's word was Maintenance, and score!, because I was able to maintain some health elements that have turned out to benefit me in more ways than just aesthetically. The year before, I think my word was Balance or Chilling or something equally soothing.

So, Consistency. Something I must apply this to so many areas of my life, including those I should've achieved well before my mid- to late 30s. 

Hmmm. After rereading that last bit, maybe next year's word should be Guiltlessness? Is that a word? 

What about you? Do you choose a word, topic, general ideal, goal, or resolution?

Or do you prefer to set goals throughout the year and stay away from the new year situation?

Either way, happy 2013. May the best and brightest of this new page on the calendar be yours.