DONT SWEAT THE SMALL STUFF

   Thanks to Tumblr I have learned a thousand and one insightful things about life. The addition of Pinterest has only made it even easier for me to gain access to witty and profound statements, save them to be pondered. Re-reading them in an attempt to appease my heart of whatever stress I am under at the moment. One that has managed to pop up on my TL recently has been “don’t sweat the small stuff” or at least some paraphrased version of it. Well, I am sweating.     

   Interestingly enough, I read a little quote (on Pinterest, I am now addicted. Sue me) about the size of a man being proportional to the size of things that bothered him. I am troubled by the possibility of my dreams never reaching actualization. I am concerned about the beyond. I ponder if heaven is anything as I have read in Randy Alcorn novels, and more importantly, I wonder what route will take me to the sky. I wonder how I will die. Cue the gasps and fingers snapping to rebuke it.

   It’s sad but the thought has come into my peripheral recently, and I have been unable to shake it. In a perfect world, my death would not be coming into question till my body refuses to carry me but what do you do when this world takes souls out of healthy bodies? People my age and younger are dying. It is easy to dissociate from the stories you hear in the grapevines, but it ‘s hard to do so when you knew the soul. The idea that this person will never make you scream their name in exasperation. You will never hear their voice on the other end of the phone call. It tires you out. You see your youth fleeting. I was not prepared for the evil of Earth.  

   In light of Manchester, my fear has once again risen to the surface about to spew from my mouth. My head is full of what ifs. What if I don’t make it to twenty? What if I die in a terrorist attack, get captured by terrorists or end up the victim of a hate crime? My heart does a little quiver when I leave the house; I double check all locks when I’m in the house. It sounds like deranged behavior and to be honest, it, is. But when you have hopes and dreams bigger than yourself, you guard them. With your life. And you sit and stew.

   I am angry that I am scared. My fury mixes with heartbreak as my innocence high tails back to Disneyland. I am upset that the situations beyond my control outweigh the decisions I can make.

So, for now, I will sweat the small stuff, I will worry if my hair is too frizzy and if my shirt is ironed. I will obsess over my highlight reaching “glazed donut’ standards. I will sweat the small stuff because my heart cannot take the big ones.

Till the next rant, it is 3:20 am. I have to be up at 6:45 am.

 

 

My Eulogy

I lost my grandfather recently and for the record he was beyond awesome! So, I sat in church surrounded by my massive family trying not to cry, and like big girls do, I sniffled like I had a cold and pretended like some bug had flew into my eye. I would have gotten away with it, if it had not been for the tribute section of the services. They were pretty bomb.

During the first service, we laughed at the anecdotes, the second service was a bit sadder but we held on bravely, taking deep breaths like fishes out of water. The third service garnered some tears because we could see him right there in his coffin but by the fourth one I was a blubbering mess so was everyone one around me (Don’t worry, I was sly and hid behind my program). After all the stress was done and we had time to breathe, I then started to brood. Whats new?

This isn’t about holding the people you love close, because if you don’t know that by now, I don’t know how to help you.

So, i got to thinking,  what will my eulogy be?

It may be selfish, but I want my eulogy to be awesome. I want people to remember me and say nice things. Not generic nice but actual things that went down. Ways I touched people’s lives and made them happy. I don’t need to be the world’s greatest, I just want to know that I didn’t breathe for nothing. That I made a difference. I want my eulogy to be my life, in all its transparency.

what will your eulogy look like?

 

It’s like 2 am. And this is probably poorly written, so it will most likely be edited tomorrow morning. I hope. Or maybe not.

Till the next rant bebes, God Bless x