Relinquishing Control

So I think I like to control things. 

To some of you, this may be a "yeah, duh" moment, but I honestly never considered myself a control freak. I mean, last week I blogged about how I have an inability to make a decision. Control freaks don't struggle in the decision making department. 

But recently, things have been happening in my life that I can't control - and it makes me quite uneasy. I was talking about this to one of my close friends earlier this week (you know, sharing my need-to-control epiphany), and she simply said "you're like a mom, you just like to be able to fix things. And some things, you just can't fix." 

I've been mulling over her words for the past few days, and by golly-gee, I think she's right. For every problem, I have a solution; for every dilemma, I have actionable advice; and for every Plan A, I'm already thinking of a Plan B.

And so far, it's been a pretty solid method to live by. But recently, things have been happening in my life, and the lives of people really close to me, that I can't fix.

And it's done something to me. I feel worthless, I feel helpless, and I feel like I'm spinning out of control. 

When I was younger and would go stay at a friend's house or overnight in a hotel, I would always pack up my belongings and zip up my suitcase every night before I went to sleep. I liked everything compacted together in case anything happened. Like why would I have to "leave all my belongings and escape safely from the building" when I could simply grab my well packed bag and get both me AND my things out safely? #sillyfiremen

Continuing on with the suitcase analogy, it feels as if someone unzipped my bag, and dumped all of its contents off of a balcony and into a raging wind storm. 

In the words of Chandler Bing: "can open; worms everywhere."

And you know the worst thing about your belongings flying around in a windstorm? You can't grab them all. And that's how I feel right now. I feel like I can't grab anything and keep it safe. It's all out of my control. 

(Side note: I think this means I'm going to be an overprotective mother.)

But I've decided it boils down to this - there's a fine line between control issues and trust issues. And by "fine" I mean it's dotted, perforated, and might as well be more of a 'blur' than a line. 

So if I'm praying about this stuff, and I don't have control over this stuff, but the lack of control over said stuff still bothers me, I think it means I'm not trusting the One who does have control over the stuff. 

Is it right? No. Is it real? Yes. I'm human.

But I'm human who strives to be better, so we slap ourselves in the face and work on the trust issues. 

It's almost comical, really. I'm reading through the Bible, reading about the countless miracles and masterpieces of God, yet I have trust issues when it comes to current day events of my life. Like, what is that? God delivered a man from a WHALE, and I think my stuff has a better chance of being taken care of in my hands rather than His. 

Which again, is comical. Because if one of my people got swallowed by a whale, I really would have nothing more to offer than a quick wave and a "sorry boutcha." Not much deliverance in these two hands.
(wiggles fingers) 

And while there are approximately 5,183 verses in the Bible related to fear, anxiety, worry, etc. - the one that gives me the most peace is John 16:33:

This is my go to. Yes - we will have tribulation. There will be raging windstorms that flee your sanity/emotions/general well-being 'to and fro' - but we also get peace. And we get to be POSITIVE and HOPEFUL, because the one who can instantly catch all of your belongings in one big swoop? He's already overcome the world. 

So unless your problems are in Mars, you're covered.

Though He created that too - so really you're good either way :)

Is it easy? No. Is it an instant reflex? No. Do I have it figured out? You're funny. 

But every time I feel the (theoretical) winds start to blow and my (figurative) belongings start to slip out of my hands, I just repeat this verse. 

And it happens about 37 times per day. 

Don't let your control issues turn into trust issues. I guarantee you, your problems are a lot safer once you give them up then they are when you cling to them. 

Until next time,

Katy

 

Getting Back on Track (and giving myself a break)

Today's Monday morning is just going to be a chat. No fun pictures, no entertaining stories, just a little Monday morning confessional, if you will. 

I've been back from Australia for a month now, and I'm here to tell you that transitioning back into my "old" life has been a lot harder than I thought it would be. Part of it is due to a lot of changes (good changes, albeit changes), and part of it is due to an innate pressure that I put on myself to always be on top of things. Either way, I've struggled to find my "groove."

I came home and there were a ton of wonderful things that happened within 3 days of me getting home. I moved into a new apartment, I got engaged, I was promoted at work - all good things, but all pretty big changes. And you know what people naturally don't do well with? 

Change. 

What's funny is that every single day in Australia was an adventure. I had no schedule, I had no agenda, I had no familiarity - Australia was 2 months of constant change, and I loved it. But when I got back to Dallas I immediately felt pressure (from no one but myself) to  just pick up where I left off and not miss a beat. And I couldn't do it. I felt like I was drowning. 

I still had several unpacked boxes in my apartment, I was behind at work, I felt pressure to blog but felt too unorganized, I felt pressure to pick a wedding date/venue since availability was already limited, I was lacking in routine, I was sick for almost three weeks, and I felt the need to say yes to every social gathering offered because I'd missed out on everything here for two whole months. 

Now - am I saying I had real problems? No. People are dealing with much larger things out there. All I'm saying is I was personally struggling. 

So after a complete hysterical breakdown at work this week (y'all I'm serious - I could not get it together for about three hours...it was bad), I decided to cut myself some slack and give myself a break. I made no plans for the weekend (other than Friday date night - because date nights are good for the soul), and I just focused on ME. If people asked if I had plans already, I said yes. Because I did - with myself. And if you don't make (and keep) plans with yourself every so often, you're going to lose control of your life a lil bit.

I made a list (hallelujah for the list) and focused on one task at a time. Now the things on the list were nothing extreme, and tasks most people (including my normal self) do on the reg - but I actually had to take time out and force myself to do them. Force myself to get back on track. 

I unpacked boxes, took stuff to goodwill, picked up dry-cleaning, got my car inspected, joined a gym (and all the people said amen), stocked my empty pantry, caught up on work, got ahead on blogging, organized all my utility accounts - I simply just got my life together. 

And today? Well, today I'm all smiles.

Why am I telling you this? I don't know - likely because I'm probably not the only person who feels like they're drowning. And I'm also probably not the only person who feels like they're drowning and the only one holding you under water is yourself. 

Grab a floatie, dude. Take a breather. If you stop dog-paddling and just take a break for 48 hours, I promise the world will keep turning. Only then you'll be able to actually keep up with it. 

 There are too many external forces that will put pressure on you to add internal pressure to the mix. Give yourself some grace. Be your biggest cheerleader. Just take some time to get yourself back on track. You are your biggest advocate. 

Just a little self-pump for your Monday :)

Until next time,

Katy

Dear Abby: Volume 1

Remember Dear Abby?

Remember how it still exists? I had no idea. 

For those of you that don't know (how's the shade under that rock?), Dear Abby is an advice column that originated in 1956 and was published by the Universal Press. #thankyouwikipedia

<source>

While I never have actually written to Dear Abby in my 27 years of life, I have often written (unsolicited) advice columns to my surroundings. Always in my head; never (okay, rarely) out loud. 

A couple of weeks ago I decided to jot down my Dear Abby moments and put pen to paper. Or fingers to keyboard. Whatever - I wanted to give them life. Mainly because I honestly think several of you can relate to these moments, so why not get them out in the open?

Also - just so you know, you're getting a front row seat to all the random, never-ending, jargon in my head. #blessyou
Enjoy! :)

_____

Dear Skinny Fit Girl in the Cookie Dough Aisle:

Stop. Just stop. When I'm headed to the raw cookie dough section, I'm usually emotionally eating and already teeter-tottering on a hysterical breakdown. So seeing your little fit body perusing the double chocolate chunk does nothing but confuse my already unstable emotions. I would like to believe you can wear spandex shorts because of your dedication to raw fruits and veggies, and has nothing to do with the fact that you were blessed with "good genes."

Please retreat to the produce section. I beg you.

Yours truly,
I break but don't bake

_________

Dear Rachel Green:

Can you please try to find a haircut that doesn't look good on you? Ten seasons of Friends, ten different hairstyles. And they ALL. WORK. What is that about? Have pity on the female population and try to be "ugly." Just once. I dare you.

Sincerely,
I used to cut my own bangs

_________

Dear Person on the Elevator who Only Goes Up One Floor:

Are you kidding me? You're getting on the elevator at floor two, and have the audacity to ask someone to "hit three for you?" Nuh uh. You can take one (1) flight of stairs. It likely takes the same amount of time to take the elevator up as it does your two feet, except it eliminates a stop for the rest of us going up 3-4 floors. Save yourself the glares and stares to the back of your head. Buy a fitbit and take the stairs. As my granddaddy used to say: "your feet ain't put on backwards."

Yours truly,
The keeper of the unwritten elevator rules

_________

Dear Operator of the Vehicular Device:

If I let you over, please say thank you. It doesn't have to be grand, just a simple hand wave. Just a a small gesture of appreciation that I paused my driving, and likely my singing, long enough to let your 8 ft. car squeeze into the 9 ft. space between myself and the car in front of me. When you don't wave, it makes me want to ram into the back of your car. Make your mama proud; use your manners.

Yours Truly,
Road Rage

_________

Dear Cellulite,

Hoookay. That's great that you've really latched on and all - but I don't quite think we need to be this close. Or be friends for this long. And you weren't my friend when I was younger, so it must be my "mature" age that draws you near. Well I'm here to tell you - you have got.to.go. And why do you have a thing for females and leave males the heck alone? That's discriminatory. And I'm calling you out. I don't appreciate that I could be naked for Halloween and call myself "cottage cheese."

Sincerely,
The dimples on my face are quite enough for me

_________

Dear $5.99 over-the-counter Cellulite Cream:

Work Faster. 

Thanks,
Me


 _________

Dear Manufacturers of Dry-Shampoo, 

Initially, I must thank you. I thank you for giving me 45-minutes of my morning back, usually which are spent dreaming, procrastinating via social media, or drinking additional cups of coffee. My plea is for varying degrees of hair help. Just as hairspray allows cans for slight hold, moderate hold, extreme hold, and resisting-gale-force-winds, I need additional assistance in the grease department. You don't have to get creative: day two, day three, day four, etc. is enough of a description for me. Just as long as day seven has the power to cut through the crude oil that's sitting atop my head. 

Yeah. I said it.

Sincerely,
I promise I wash my body on a daily basis

_________
 

Until next time,
Katy

The Power of the Positive Three

Sometimes I'm just grumpy. 

And sometimes actual things happen to make me all "frowns-down," but other times... I'm just in a funk. 

Yesterday morning was one of those mornings. I was just a grump. It was Monday (point one), it was raining, traffic was awful due to the rain, and work is slow enough right now to where I didn't have the "productivity adrenaline" pumping. I just wanted to crawl back in bed with my coffee in my jammies and read a book. ..which obviously couldn't happen and I wasn't happy about it.  

Somewhere amidst the stop and the go on my commute, I knew I had to get out of my funk. My negative attitude wasn't going to miraculously make my day become more positive. It would likely have the opposite effect. And quite frankly, my friends, family, and coworkers didn't deserve a grumpy Katy on a Monday morning. 

So, I decided to implement the positive three. I've done this for quite some time now, starting back in college. Whenever I'm not happy - whether by an actual event or just because - I force myself to stop and think of three positive things in my life. 

At first it's pretty hard. It's hard to scowl and think happy thoughts. And on those days where you just want to wallow in your 'woe is me'....it can also be quite annoying. 

But it's necessary. It forces you to change your perspective, to stop focusing on all the things that may not be going your way, and focusing on things that are. 

View Grumpy as a little monster. If you keep feeding the monster (and he feeds on negative thoughts), Grumpy is just going to grow, get stronger, and stick around for a while. On the other hand, if you stop feeding the monster negativity, and start feeding him happy thoughts (the antidote), he's going to go away. Or at least take a chill pill.

Some days are harder than others, and some real life events might require a positive five, seven, or even ten before you start to feel better. But at least you're shifting your focus. You're making an effort. It just may take a dollop of time along with those sprinkles of positivity before you make noticeable strides. 

This must be a common theme for May as one of the other blogs I read just talked about this topic, too. She went as far as to document her three on a daily basis in a gratitude journal. ....for thirteen years. I respect a good documentation, but I just don't have space to keep numerous journals. Same message here, though :) 

So next time you're feeling low, because you woke up like that or because life happened, just stop and shift your focus. Give a good mood a chance. It's simple, and may seem silly, but don't underestimate the power of the positive three.

Happy Tuesday!

Until next time,
Katy

You are doing just fine.

I've been thinking about this post for a while, and have finally put pen to paper. ...or fingers to keyboard.

It all started when one week, a few months back, a couple of people said to me, "I don't know how you do it." To which I looked at them, raised my eyebrows, and said "...do what?"

They then gave me some examples of things I did in my "spare time." Things I considered run-of-the-mill  must-do activities. Things that I would admittedly confess kept me busy, but not things I would necessarily say labeled me as "accomplished." 

I then thought about how oftentimes when I reflect on my day, it's a laundry list of things I didn't do. 

 "Dang it - I overslept and didn't get my Bible Study in." 

"I meant to call so-n-so and see how they did on that huge project at work." 

"Missed the gym again. That makes day 4 and it's only Wednesday."

"I have approximately 7 Shutterfly books I need to make." 

"You haven't blogged in 5 days."

"Charlie only got a 20 minute walk today. You can do better than that."

Trust me - the list goes on. And on. And on. 

So then I started thinking - if other people look at me and see all my accomplishments, why do I look at myself and only see the areas where I've come up short? 

Why are we so hard on ourselves?

If you're like me (single, no kids, and in the career-focused point of your life), I realized I tend to look at my activities outside of work. What did I (not) get accomplished in the X amount of hours before I left for work, and the X amount of hours when I got home? People. That is not a lot of time. If you work hard during the day and are a positive influence in the workplace - be proud of that! Sure, you may not be doing your dream job, but don't discount that you've made an honest day's work for yourself today. Just because you're not actively chasing your dream every single day doesn't mean you're failing. It means you're human. It means you're living. 

You are doing just fine. 

What about you mamas? Now, I may have to go out on a limb here because I have not yet experienced this first-hand, but social media tells me you're tired. Whether you're a working mama or a stay at home mama - you're tired. Your child/children need you. All day errday. And you are living off of ginormous cups of caffeine and reminiscing about days when you had time to shower, shave your legs, and fix your hair. The hygiene trifecta. Hey guess what - you're raising tiny humans. You're raising good-hearted, deeply-loved, well-behaved-most-of-the-time precious human beings. Be proud of that. The laundry may not be done, your china cabinet may be dusty, and you may have to wear pants to cover up your Chewbaca legs, but you're making it. 

You are doing just fine.

Lisa and I went to the Dallas flea market last weekend, and I saw this sign across an exhibit. You can ask Lisa, but my eyes lit up and I reached out my arms and went straight for it. I want to buy this for the world and let everyone hang it in their house. It's so incredibly simple, but such a good and needed reminder.

I promise you this - if you made a list of every single accomplishment you did today, you'd realize you accomplished a lot. You may not have accomplished everything on your original to-do list, but no one says you have to. Maybe instead of thinking about everything you didn't do at night, think about everything you did do. There's too much negativity in the world. 

Some days are harder than others, and some day's you'll honest to goodness feel like you've done nothing worthwhile. Just close your eyes, take a deep breath, and remind yourself:

You are doing just fine. 

_____

Until next time,
Katy


 

All Too Familiar...

I had no intentions of writing this post. I was going to talk about cakes and books and Friday Favorites. I wasn't going to talk about this kind of stuff here. This part of my life wasn't made for this blog - those were discussed here; this blog was made for my happy life. 

But we're all real here and life is made of the good, and the not so good.

I had an eye appointment yesterday. Just like any other 3-month appointment I've had for the past 4 years, and I put it in my calendar and expected a regular, routine, six-minute eye exam. 

Then the words "your next big surgery" were uttered. 

And I'll be honest -  I knew I was at least going to have a third surgery. But quite frankly I thought I'd be married with kids and on the up-side to 40 when I had it. My 27-year old self found out that might not be the case. 

I don't know anything definite, but I know my eye isn't holding up. The part of my cornea that is at 10% thickness isn't growing back like they thought, and hoped, it would. So, my "next big surgery" would involve a cataract surgery (so I could see again) and a simultaneous corneal transplant (because my eye won't be able to handle another surgery without one).

Vision and a new cornea - sounds like a win win right? Well - the protons that were sewn into my eye back in 2010 and radiated to kill the tumor still have their charge. And no corneal transplant will "take" with the charged protons still doing their thing. So for now, we're not sure what that means. We'll know more when we go to Boston. But I'm not stupid. I know very well I could go under for that surgery, and wake up with people telling me there was nothing that they could do, so they had to remove my eye completely. I get it. I know that's an option.

What I will say, is that this whole process has emotionally affected me much more than I imagined. The doctor told me his thoughts, I smiled and joked with him about outcomes, paid my copay, and then left the building. 

Then I called my dad in the car and told him the news while choking back tears. 

All too familiar. 

Then I got home, saw my puppy trotting towards me, and slid down the hallway wall crying while he licked my tears.

 All too familiar. 

Then I went back to work, put on my game face, and lived life like I was just any ole person and put the thought of another surgery as far back in my mind as I possibly could. Compartmentalization. 

All too familiar. 

I joked with my sister and told her I've gotten "soft" over the years, but quite frankly, I'm just not ready to go through all this again. I enjoyed being normal. I've gotten used to being half blind. I'm finally ready to write my book on this experience from 5 years ago - I'm not ready for volume two. 

Why I'm writing this, on this blog, I'm not sure. But I got home last night and completely fell apart. Yesterday afternoon knocked the wind right out of me, and while I've been through much worse, I wasn't ready for the feeling. Yes, the plus side is that I'm still riding the stable wave and nothing urgent has to be done, but my eye is not healing, and in the words of my doctor we're "playing the waiting game." 

I know I'll be okay. I know this will be fine. But I just wasn't ready to go back. I wasn't ready to give up normalcy. I wasn't ready to have eye appointments and eye-centered blog posts be the front-runner of my life. But I don't make the plan. And I don't necessarily get the road map. All I know is that the next stepping stone is to pray. 

Yesterday was just all too familiar. 

 ____

Until next time,
Katy

8 Facts I Learned While Trying Yoga

I've been to approximately 6 yoga classes over the past 6 months. I really thought I'd try to embrace it. But first I realized I had to embrace the actual art of discipline in working out. Wamp wamp.

But alas, those classes have obviously given me enough confidence, and material, to share with you a thing or eight I've learned from doing yoga. All six times.

1 - I've Gotten Old

I was a dancer my whole life. I could kick myself in the face on drill team without even stretching. Flexibility was my "thing." And I honest to goodness thought I'd never lose it. 

Yeah. Joke's on me. 

The instructor says to fold my body in half and I get about 20% of the way there and start howling like a hound dog. And not only do my muscles ache - and not move - but my JOINTS. Oh the joints. Yoga should end with a namaste and a bottle of bayer apirin. And yes, I'm fully aware it's because I'm just out of shape, but out of shape means it's my fault. Old age is the universe's fault. So I'm sticking with that. I've gotten old. 

_____

2 - (In yoga) I can't tell my left from my right

Okay. Hear me out. But in yoga I am constantly making the L symbols with my hands to decipher my left from my right. And you know why? Two main reasons. 

First of all - I can't think that fast. "Put your left ankle over your right knee and twist so your left shoulder is toward your right hip and extend your left arm over and look right." 

I'm sorry - WHAT? I seriously have to replay everything in slow motion. You tell me to relax and get all "zen" but then give me instructions like that? No ma'am. When I'm relaxed, "head and shoulders, knees and toes," is just about all I'm good for. 

And secondly - they'll give you instructions after you're already twisted up like a pretzel. It's like those mind games you used to play in elementary school. Your arms are all intertwined with your legs and then they tell you to do something with your left hand. Well where on earth IS my left hand in this jungle gym of a body you created?! Too much mental, people. And I don't have time for it. So if you sit next to me in yoga and you see me rocking the L hands - don't hate. And feel free to cheat off me. 

_____

3 - I'm apparently a shallow breather

If you've gone to yoga, witnessed yoga, or have heard any remote stereotype of yoga, you know it's all about the inhales and exhales. Well, folks, I must be a shallow breather because almost every time I take a big inhale.....I yawn. 

So I apologize to all my past and future yoga instructors. I'm not tired, and I'm not bored. My brain isn't used to getting enough oxygen. It's a reflex. 

And I would be polite and cover my mouth by my hands are usually twisted around my body. #andwhosefaultisthat

_____

4 - I do NOT understand the words that are coming out of your mouth

Sooooo.....yoga has its own language. Did you know that? Because I was not aware. 

I'm thinking it's going to be like any other workout class I've ever attended (you know, in english) and we'll do some Warrior 2 and Downward Facing Dogs. Then home girl tells me to practice "surya namaskara." 

I'm sorry....say what now? 

But sure enough, people start moving altogether in one motion. So me and my deer in the headlights look followed suit. And quite frankly, that's still my method of survival in yoga classes. And probably will be unless someone knows where I can get a "Yoga for Dummies" dictionary.

_____

5 - Amateurs need to stay at the back of the classroom

Almost lost my life learning this one. I was borderline late to a yoga class, so I was forced to set up mat on the second row. No biggie, I thought. I can modify; I got this. 

Then the instructor says something in some jibberish I don't understand (see #4), and when I look up to see what everyone else was doing, I almost lose my nose to the girl in front of me who suddenly kicks up her feet to do some handstands. Literally the entire front half of the room starts kicking into handstands like they're practicing to be dadgum trapeze artists. So while I'm curled up on my mat dodging flying legs, I look to the back half of the room where people are holding a pose and breathing. 

Stay in the back half, young grasshoppers. Stay in the back half. 

_____

6 - The...umm...bodily noises

So it's no secret that yoga is good for the outside, good for the inside, and gets internal things "moving," but HEAVENS I didn't know people were that vocal about those things. 

Call me immature, call me childish, but the first time I heard someone let one rip in that classroom, I about came undone. I got out of my pose and looked around to see if someone, anyone, else heard that. But to my shameful dismay, everyone carried on as if it never happened. 

Noted. One must be mature in yoga. If a flatulent bodily sound occurs, one must remain calm, stay in pose form, and (bless your heart) inhale. 

_____

7 - Do they make tempurpedic yoga mats?

WHY are yoga mats so thin!? I mean you are lying, lifting, and shifting on a hard wood floor and the only thing they give you is a tiny half-inch yoga mat? That just hurts. My joints. Really badly. 

 And while I realize yoga on an air mattress wouldn't be quite as effective, is a 2-inch tempurpedic too much to ask? I mean the commercial shows you can jump up and down and the wine glass won't fall over, so I think it's sturdy enough for a person's surya namaskara? Am I right?

#thoughstillnotsurewhatthatis

_____

8 - I am REALLY good at restoration yoga

So in my six classes I've learned that there are very many different types of yoga. There's power yoga, vinyasa, hatha - and while I still do not entirely know what all of those types mean, if it's a restoration yoga? Sign. Me. Up. 

I went to a restoration yoga where they gave you body pillows as a prop. I mean they called them "bolsters," but whatever - it was a body pillow. I would know. I sleep with one every night. 

So you get into a stretch position and then curl up with your pillow. 

And then they turn off the lights. 

And then they come give you mini-massages. 

And then they put amazing lavender smelling oils on your arms. 

I mean, it took conscious effort to not start drooling on that bolster. (I've never claimed to be a pretty sleeper). So while yes, I have been to those yoga classes that all but kill me they're so hard, I've also learned that I need to work in a "restoration" yoga class at least once a week. You should take care of your body you know... that's all I'm saying. 

_____

So there you have it. Eight random thoughts that have occurred to this amateur while she learns the ropes to this yoga thing. And yes, this blog occurred to me during the class, because my brain doesn't meditate. I don't care what you say, some people can turn their brains off and some people cannot. I assure you I cannot. 

I just wish they'd let me bring my planner into class. I can make some mean to-do lists in a 60-minute yoga class. 

Happy Monday everyone!

Until next time,
Katy

Got time?

So let me tell you a little story...

On Sunday night, I crawled in bed around 9:30. My plan was to watch Quantico (duh) and then go to bed around 10:15. That way I could wake up early Monday, work out, spend time with Jesus, and really just start my week off right. 

SO, I watch Quantico (such a good show), and then grabbed my phone. You know - that whole 'I'm bored for literally half of a nano second so I'm going to subconsciously grab my phone and mindlessly open up social media apps' grab. You know the grab.

Next thing I know, it's 11:30. ELEVEN.THIRTY. Remember that whole 10:15 bedtime thing? So naturally I snoozed through my early alarms, missed the workout, missed the Jesus time, and barely got to work on time. I hate disheveled Mondays. 

So while I was driving to work, I was thinking about what on EARTH I did until 11:30. I don't remember a single thing I looked at on social media. Not a picture, not an article....nuthin'. Now -this is not the part of the story where I tell you I deleted all my social media apps and am only using my phone as a communication device... let's be real. 

But I really started to think about where my time goes. How do I spend my time? Wisely? Or do I waste a whole lot of valuable time...and then complain about being overloaded and busy later? And I'm not talking about down time - everyone needs down time. I'm just talking about the wasted time. 

I told y'all a long time ago about one of my favorite devotional books called The Best Yes, by Lysa Terkeurst. This is one of my favorite quotes from the book:

That quote done slapped me upside the head. If making every day decisions about how I spend my time ultimately determines how I spend my soul...then I need to make conscious and wise decisions. 

So - I decided to take a look at how my time is spent. Day to day is too cumbersome, but monthly just doesn't paint a real picture. I decided to look at a week's worth of time. And to do that, I naturally busted out an excel spreadsheet. Numbers are my thing. And excel is my bestie. 

Disclaimer: this is realistic - but also in a perfect world. What do I mean by that? I don't work out 4 hours a week. That is exactly what I mean. I would like to, so I'm going to allocate hours to that, but heavens no, I do not do that currently.
firststepisadmission

So I could tell you how I determined/calculated these hours - but then I realized you probably don't really care. SO - I'll skip to what I've learned from this little 5-minute exercise. 

1) I need to find a job/church closer to home. Spending 12 hours each week in a car just doing normal everyday things is a bit ridiculous. 

2) I spend more time watching TV than I do loving on Jesus. And the 6 hours does not include the seasonal Hallmark Christmas movies...

3) I have 11 extra hours a week (approximately an hour and a half each day) that I don't know what I do with. 

And I'm not saying I need to schedule them out. I'm more just amazed that every night I feel rushed, exhausted, and like I got nothing accomplished. So maybe if I paid a little more attention to my daily decisions and how I spend my time, then I would get a little more done and feel a little less guilty about curling up with that Hallmark movie... :)

SEE!? This. So much of this. Wasted time: Exhibit A

Now, you may be chuckling that I'm talking about time management when we're a month out from the holidays. I'm not suggesting to move mountains here. I even appreciate a good 'hustle and bustle.' All I'm saying is I'm going to keep reminding myself of those 11 hours and make an effort not waste them. 

What's your number?

Until next time,
Katy

KUWK: On Dreaming Big

"Dreaming big" is rough. And it ain't for the weak of heart. 

Having dreams and passions is enough to put you on an emotional roller coaster that has more twists and turns than the Texas Giant over at Six Flags. And I'm not talking about the baby dreams. I'm talking about the dreams that you can literally feel tugging at your heart strings every time you think about them. The dreams that cause a lump in your throat every time you talk about them. The dreams that you feel so strongly about that when you pray about them, you only get out a "Dear God" before the tears join you. 

Those dreams.  

We all have them, and for the majority of us, they've changed over the years. And for some of us, our dreams might not quite line up with the 'equipment' we were given.

I've been a dancer my entire life. It's what makes me tick. The whole time I was in college, I knew I wanted to audition to be a NYC Rockette when I graduated. Getting an education was important to me, but my dream was performing on stage. I can tap, I can kick, I am the right height and right proportion (mostly legs), so I was going to give it a try. I researched, I studied, I found a professor at Baylor that was a former Rockette. Being a Rockette was my dream. 

And then right before I graduated college I was diagnosed with cancer. A cancer that made me look a little funny and took half my vision. I focused on treatment and recovery, and my dream of being a Rockette slipped away. 

[scene]

Then I moved to Dallas, started a career in public accounting, and completely fell in love with country music. Don't get me wrong - I was always a fan - but I wanted to create it. I wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to be a country music star, and having just conquered cancer, I truly believed that anything was possible. This dream grew -and it grew fast. It's all I thought about. 

Then one day I was walking my dog around the neighborhood, and a fork in the road just slapped me in the face. I could actually give this dream a try (and probably fail), or I could never try, always dream, and be an 80-year old woman eaten up with regret. 

The worst question to ever ask yourself  is the question of "what if?" - because you will never ever know the answer. 

I decided I wanted failure over regret. I wanted it so badly, I was beyond willing to move to Nashville and do the "starving artist on the street" thing. I didn't care - as long as I was trying. Chasing the dream. Running the race. 

I started writing songs. I took voice lessons. My brother bought me a guitar. I put in a transfer with my company to get me to Nashville. I started taking steps. And I was pumped. 

Then last year (and about six months before I could transfer) God opened the door for an opportunity to stay in Dallas. I was so confused. Why were doors being opened in Dallas when I was mentally and emotionally set to move to Nashville? I talked to my family about what to do - and my brother sent me back a one sentence response that made things pretty clear. He said "what I've learned in my life, is that when God opens a door for you, you're a fool if you don't walk through it." 

So I stayed. And it was a pretty bittersweet choice. I was excited for the opportunity, and I was excited to stay in Texas with my friends and family, but I felt like I was giving up on myself before I even tried. I felt like I was giving up on my dream.

[scene]

So what now, you ask? 

Well let me tell you. 

I. DON'T. KNOW.

For over a year now, I've been wondering what God wants me to do with my life. I've had many a breakdowns upon realizing I'm 27 and still don't know the answer to that. For everyone above 30, I'm sure you're thinking "oh Katy, you're still so young." And for those of you younger than me, you're likely thinking "man, I really hope I have my life figured out by the time I turn 27." I get it. It's all relative.

But here's the thing - I recently realized that while I have indeed been wondering what God has in store for my life, I haven't been asking. I just kept thinking it would just happen. That the time would come when God would nudge me and say 'hey - pay attention, this is it.'
...yeah, no such nudge. 

So I've been asking. Fervently asking. And while I haven't necessarily learned the whole answer, He has taught me a few things in anticipation. For instance, I would look at my life and only know how to measure it if I placed it against someone else's life. The measuring stick for my accomplishments was always someone else's life. That's not fair. That's not fair to me, and it's not fair to God. I think I have big dreams? God's dreams for my life would blow.my.mind. And I'm selling Him short by checking out His dreams for someone else. 

A few weeks ago I was praying and scrolling through my mental list of "dreams" I would love to chase, and I remember getting so frustrated. (Because I was measuring my life against other people.) In the midst of that frustration, the good Lord just threw several thoughts into my head.

I already have a Carrie Underwood. 

I already have a Jen Hatmaker. 

 What I need is a Katy Reeves. 

Side note: I am a firm believer that the Lord talks to us through common sense. In fact I'm pretty sure that's His main method of communication when it comes to me cause when I'm a hot mess I rarely think rationally or clearly. So thought-provoking statements most definitely are Heaven sent. 

Every single one of us is unique. We all have different personalities, different strengths, different weaknesses, etc. Why on earth would God's plan for me be the exact same plan He has for someone else? That's zero fun for anyone. So that being said, why would I measure my life against someone else's life? They aren't, and lucky for us shouldn't be, even remotely comparable.

I've been so busy looking and "shopping" through other people's lives that I haven't even considered that there's a set of blueprints designed just for ME. And those blueprints are just collecting dust, because I'm way too busy peeking over at someone else's. 

Now - all these realizations and epiphanies are great, but putting them into practice? That's a whole 'nother issue. Like I said...dreaming big is hard. Some days you wake up feeling like not hell nor high water can keep you from chasing this dream. Other days you wake up feeling like you've accomplished, and will accomplish, absolutely nothing. 

So I'm telling you just like I'm telling myself (because quite frankly this post is just for me). Go all in. Whatever it is that makes you tick. Whatever it is that God instilled in you that makes your heart hurt just thinking about it. Pray about it. Go for it. With your WHOLE self. Not just your big toe. 

So yes, I'm a dreamer. And dreaming big is hard. But to me, if you aren't dreaming, and you aren't chasing, then you aren't living. 

Until next time,
Katy