Hunger

I am not hungry.  What I mean is, this morning, I surfed the Internet for rabbit rescue centers in the North Bay, and then found Glee covers that were supposedly better than the originals, and they were pretty good.  And I quickly read my portion of the morning revival, because something in me still wants to spend time with the Lord, but I am not hungry.  I feel like a distracted child, who is asking, “When will this be over?”  I don’t like mornings, and I seem to happily drift into whatever might instantly gratify me when I’m not so happy about being awake.  My iPhone.  I do feel like my smartphone is a large reason why I’m not that healthy (spiritually/physically/in general), but I am not looking to give it up so I’m not sure what to do there.

And it’s kind of discouraging.  It’s discouraging to come home from prayer meeting and really want to just check who is still remaining on The Voice (is it rigged?).  It’s discouraging to be counting down the minutes on the clock before I’m free.  It’s discouraging to know that I can spend hours upon hours on something, but when it comes to spiritual things, suddenly I have no energy.  And yeah, the disciples were like this, but that was PRE-resurrection.  So I have to wonder, I think I’m regenerated, so what’s up?

I’ve been proofreading lately, and one of the portions I proofread was about life. And about salvation.  And about how although doctrinally speaking regeneration and salvation are supposed to be one and the same, experientially it seems they are not.  And how someone can be saved but not regenerated, in the sense that they only avoid certain things because they feel the church tells them to.  But if someone is regenerated, they avoid doing things because inwardly they cannot, they feel unpleasant to do those things.  In those times I wonder to myself, what about me?  Have I made any progress, or is it all outward law?  Am I just doing things because that’s what I feel is expected of me?  It could be partially the OCD kicking in, as I do things like ask my husband “Am I regenerated?”  He says he can see God’s shepherding of me.  But sometimes I am doubtful.  Have I grown?  Will I ever grow?  Is something missing?  I have to admit, I do not love music the way I used to love music in high school, where my friends and I would literally be glued to our headphones between periods, and even in class if we could, and fall asleep to it, but I still love music to some degree.  And the Lord.  The Lord is invisible and inaudible.  Yet many experienced Him as the Spirit, in a more real way than the disciples did.  I’ve always loved this hymn by Watchman Nee.   I still would love to have the Lord actually sit here and answer my questions face to face, while munching a piece of fish, but I hope I (we) can know Him more “transparently.”

 

1 Oh, Jesus, Lord, when Thou on earth
Accompanied Thy faithful band,
It seemed they knew, but knew Thee not,
Thyself they did not understand.
2 They heard Thy voice, beheld Thy form,
Thy beauteous stature unforgot;
They crowded ‘round Thee, met Thy gaze,
But who Thou art, they knew it not.
3 As they of old we too are veiled;
We’ve known Thee long apparently;
Yet if we say we know, at best
We know Thee not transparently.
4 But as the Spirit now Thou art,
Another Comforter become;
Reveal Thyself within my heart,
Since to Thy temple Thou hast come.
5 With Thy blest Spirit, Lord, fill me,
Fill every corner of my soul;
May Thou inspire my every part,
Oh may Thou touch, renew the whole.
6 The Spirit then revealing make
Thyself more real within my heart,
That ear not hear, nor eye may see
How very real to me Thou art.
7 When Thou in mercy dost reveal
And give Thyself as Spirit thus,
What in the world can be more real,
More true than what Thou art to us?
8 Thy Spirit, Lord, in mine, I pray,
O’erflow my being as a flood,
That every part with glory shine
And everywhere be Thee and God.
9 How close we are in such a life,
In one is blended earth with heav’n;
Thy presence sweetly fills our souls;
Our hearts are to Thy praises giv’n.

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Week One

This week is week one.  Week one of what you ask?  Week one of weaning down from my medication.  How have I done so far?  Well, the side effects haven’t been too crazy, and I’m hoping it stays that way.  Pdoc says he has done this with hundreds of people, and that the books say you can wean off them in a week, so he’s already being conservative with me by going with two weeks.  You can guess this is NOT what I read on the Internet.  And we know how doctors feel about the Internet.  Just kidding, I don’t know, I just think I do based on a few experiences.  Hopefully the stories I’ve heard really are just few and far between anecdotes that are a disproportionate representation of the actual experiences of people who have weaned off of their medications.

So I have two projects.  I am going to read this book “Can Christianity Cure Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder”, written by a Christian doctor who “explores the role of faith in treatment”, which is pretty cool so far, and two, I’m going to start a bullet journal.  The goal with the bullet journal is that it’ll help me organize my life (always down for a more organized life) and give me a creative outlet as well.  I think I’m continually trying to find *the* method of organization, with ample amount of cynicism because #ADD cannot keep up with too much organization before I throw it out the window, but one of the “10 Habits of Incredibly Happy People” is to have a “Growth-Mindset”, so I guess it would be better to see it as an opportunity to improve, and not a desperate trial of yet another organizing method that will fail– whether it’s me failing it, or it failing me– it all depends.  Speaking of growth mindset, I love that about Husband.  He’s always encouraging me 🙂  Which reminds me of our third project.

Gym time!  So apparently, according to Pdoc and a study by Duke university, “researchers reported that three aerobic sessions per week of 30 to 45 minutes was enough to reduce depression.  In general, elevating your heart rate is what matters. If you can talk but not sing while you are exercising, you are working in a moderate aerobic zone. Do that for 30 to 45 minutes at least three days a week to help keep depression at bay.”

Husband Quotes: “What is this bullet journal thing?  Cause I write journals and I write bullets, I feel like I already do it.”

“NO. Omg. No.”

 

Ice Cream

Today was Dad’s birthday, according to the Lunar Calendar, so we took him out.  At the end, ice cream was given for free!  And I dug in.  After that, I was pretty antsy, and Mother said perhaps it was the ice cream.  Wouldn’t it be crazy if it was that simple?  Call me complicated, but I don’t think most things in life are simple, and I generally take simple explanations as fun hypotheses, not as serious suppositions.  If only.

One of the most simple things in my life though was my courtship to DH.  Not that I never got upset with him, but where we were and where we were going was fairly simple, more than anything else in my life.  It still amazes me to this day.

Because I’m working for the parentals now, career has become simple too.  I jumped from place to place only to land in a place that I never wanted to be in, and to be okay with it.  In college, as a freshman, I went to see the department head of cognitive science, and she said something like “this is your major of the week isn’t it” which honestly offended me.  As time passed, I became more desperate, and I even pulled out the list of every possible major in Berkeley to try to cross things off that were either too difficult or too impractical and narrow things down.  I thought it was really going to make a difference in my life, but for me it hasn’t.  I am not doing anything remotely close to economics or speech-language pathology.  I am taking the route that I once thought would be most boring, and yet I’m not bored.  Husband knows I could say that about him too.  😛  Timing and experiences have been everything.

Overcooked Tea

I have a habit of overcooking my tea, not on purpose.  I pour the hot water, and let the bag sit, and think, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”  And off I go on my computer and before you know it, I have no idea how many minutes it has been.  Story of my life, ever since a desktop computer was brought into my household as a kid.  Hubby and I have decided we don’t want screens in the bedroom.  And so if we ever have children and they get my affinity for technology, I guess they will hate us.  🙂

On another note, Jcrew has shut down its bridal line.  This is old news, but I hadn’t written about it or read about it, but today I skimmed an article by happenstance.  I’d like to thank Jcrew for supposedly inspiring the casual wedding with its attire so I could feel like myself on my wedding day.  😛  How do you write so the “:p” emoticon comes through?  Sometimes I like to say annoying things, just to be annoying, but I don’t want people to actually think I’m anything more than half-serious about the annoying things…..  Err.  Or am I?  Off-topic, but I originally created this blog with hopes that I would stick to the rules of English grammar and punctuation, which I hardly do in any of my blogs, but as you can see, I veered off that path …  I like emoticons, ill-placed ellipses, and non-words too much.

Back on topic.  Every once in awhile in the past two years, I have seen beautiful wedding dresses and said to my hubby, “Can we get married again?” Sometimes, I wish I could have a second wedding where I would actually dress up like a princess, but in the end I’m happy we did things the way we did.  Dressed up as a princess, I probably would have walked around feeling glamorous, self-conscious, or like a fraud, or like all of the above.  We’ll never know.  Luckily, Pinterest has finally let me give it the hint that I am no longer planning for a wedding.   Hooray!

 

Loneliness and Insecurity

There’s a weird feeling I have at the moment, and it’s called loneliness and insecurity.  It means I want to talk and make a friend, but I’m insecure/anxious about how the conversation would go and whether it would be a positive overall interaction or a negative one.

As an HSP, apparently I go out of my way to avoid uncomfortable situations, so you can guess where that leaves me.  I guess I’ve kind of forgotten about my HSP-ness, except today, I noticed one of my friends on Facebook, an acquaintance, rather, had changed her last name back to her maiden name.  That’s never a good sign when you know they are (were?) married.  It’s really disheartening and while one shouldn’t jump to conclusions, I thought back to the research I read a long time ago about how neuroticism is the number one personality predictor of an unhappy marriage, in so many words.  I think HSP-ness and neuroticism pretty much overlap quite a bit.  So I made my hubby take the HSP test.  He’s not an HSP (no surprise at all there).  I think when I make my hubby take tests like these and listen to his responses, I realize how much I assume everyone around me must think the way I think, or feel the way I feel in response to things, and how strange it is to find out that they don’t.  You mean loud noises don’t really bother you?!  You mean you’re not bothered by coarse fabrics?  You don’t get nervous when someone is watching you do something?  You must be an alien!  Except no, the alien, folks, is me.  Just kidding.  We are 20% of the population, so not so alien after all.  But the point is, something about us, oh, maybe the way we are so very moody, makes it difficult for people to live very very closely to us, which marriage is.  Anyhow, as you can probably guess, this doesn’t make me feel too good about myself.  So it’s been awhile since I’ve thought about these personality things.  Thankfully, it is the Lord who brought me to my husband, and my husband to me.  His ways really are higher than our ways.  My thoughts are kind of all over the place on this.  I guess I just feel bummed when things aren’t working out for people and of course I can’t have any way of knowing what is actually going on, so how can I say anything?  It’s all very confusing.  Years and years have passed and so much change, too.

I think that’s what ties all of these thoughts together.  Change.  I don’t like change.  Since I’m back home, I’ve realized a lot of folks are probably still around, but I don’t know if they would want to talk to me.  There’s always the past, the connections to this person or that person, and then there’s this huge gap of time, and by now, I have no clue what to think or what they think, or if they even think.  I want to connect with people, but I have no words.  Or maybe they’re busy.  Or maybe I’m busy.  I would be okay, except see the reason I’m writing this is that I spent too long scrolling through a NewsFeed, reading just that.  News.  News about people, when all I really want is to actually sit down and talk to them, except I also don’t want that as well.  Because what if they don’t open?  That feeling when you can’t seem to get through feels even lonelier, somehow.  Why do things change?  So we left our old community behind, but I am forming a new community here, and it will take time.

I feel there is a new stage of life ahead of me.  The leaves are growing a radiant reddish hue and life is morphing as well.  It seems as I grow older, family becomes more and more primary, and more of them actually need your care, or is it that I actually notice and care about someone other than myself.  I will be 29 in a few weeks.  Throughout most of my life, I haven’t felt my age.  I’ve always felt younger than I actually was.  Today though, my age feels very real to me.

Immuno-Boost

Yesterday I was planning to eat ramen for dinner, but then the hubby said he was feeling like something light and healthy, which usually means he’s exhausted and needs an immune system boost!

So I made this, instant pot congee.  I think it turned out fairly good and I would make again.  I also made him a smoothie and put all kinds of stuff in it that the Internet says is good for you– spinach, lime, berries, ginger, cinnamon, turmeric, chia seeds, Greek yogurt.  Next time, more ginger, cause he couldn’t taste it this time.

The Past

Yesterday I was talking to Hubby about “the past”.  I was considering, some people say that the past is the past.  As in, it doesn’t matter, and we should focus on the present.  To which I raise my eyebrow and think, yes, that’s a good point.  But doesn’t the past affect who we are today?  But to what extent does it matter or doesn’t it matter?  Some people are those who “need to know”, and others are better at passing over those things and having new beginnings.

I’ve always been the kind of person who has trouble letting things go.  The imprints on my heart run quite deeply.  I’ve found out from conversations, that many people can’t remember too many things from their childhood.  But I remember random moments.  I remember preschool, the fake cake with the pandas on it, and being excited when it would finally be my turn to sit in front of the cute cake.  I remember getting in trouble for being awake during naptime during daycare.  I remember my first week of kindergarten.  I sat on the carpeted floor and found a book about Spot the dog, and I read it.  And I found out that the other kids were not reading the books, they were only looking at the pictures.  And that was one of my first realizations that I was ahead of other kids academically.  I remember sitting in a chair for my first piano recital, not quite knowing what was going on.  I remember getting shots with a happy face, but it seems my memory must have tricked me because how can you have shots in the shape of a happy face?  I remember my first friend who asked me if I wanted to be her best friend, but it would have to be second best friend, because someone else was her first best friend.  I remember that I didn’t know why she wanted to be my friend, but she did.  I remember watching my best friend run around the playground getting chased by boys, and wondering what was so fun about that.  I remember receiving an inflatable hammer bigger than me as a gift in Hong Kong, because somebody else was afraid of it, and feeling quite good about myself.

Being back in the city where I grew up conjures up a lot of memories from “the past”.  Watching my cousin go through being a teenager again reminds me of my wide-eyed days, when a group of us genuinely believed we could change the world.  When there were no bills, no homes, no jobs to think about.

The past is a strange place.  What is it about some events that place them so firmly in my memory?