A Something Random Guide to..

Well, almost nonstop.  I’ve been drinking it with a lunch consisting of Ben and Jerry’s.  And Tylenol.

Normally the aqua consumption wouldn’t be a shock–the air is SO dry out here that you need the recommended 64 oz a day, at LEAST.  But with the high altitude changes in baking, so comes an adjustment in the ingredients currently making up my life:

Combine one part headache and 4 nose blows to every cough in a body that’s aching all over.  Slowly fold in a sore throat (being careful not to break the yokes of the post nasal drip), and cover with a beautifully mixed trashcan full of vomit.  Incubate in Rumbel’s body at a fever of 102, and enjoy.

Scratch the enjoy.  I’m not happy about it, but I’ll survive.

With this recipe brewing up inside of me, I’m on edge about whether or not I want to go to Pathways tonight.  Ron’s starting a new series called “Post Secret,” and I’ve been really excited about it for the past 3 weeks.  Granted I could just listen to the podcast online tonight (there by not infecting all those in attendance), but he always picks out the best pictures for his powerpoint.

I’m sure a few of the postcards Ron would use would be at least secrets in my heart, and undoubtedly secrets in the hearts of those I’d be sitting next to.

Secrets like:

or secrets like:

or secrets like:

or secrets like:

or secrets like:

or secrets like:

or secrets like:

or secrets like:

or secrets like:

or secrets like:

I hate to admit it, but I can relate to a few of the above secrets.  Infact, I can relate so much in that I made one of these postcards… yet I don’t know how much of a secret it really is; I’m getting better at talking about it.

I love when movies have a great soundtrack.  The kind of soundtrack that you buy on CD, even though you can listen to it online for free.  The kind of soundtrack that you buy on CD (even though you can listen to it online for free) and you listen to it so much you think that the laser reading the CD will burn a whole straight through the middle of it.

I’m still working on the soundtrack for my life.  I think if my memoirs are ever published, then acted out on the big screen, I would need Rob Thomas’s “Little Wonders” in the background somewhere.

Let it go.  Let it roll right off your shoulder- don’t you know the hardest part is over?  Let it in, let your clarity define you.  In the end we will only just remember how it feels.  Our lives our made in these small hours, in these little wonders, in these twists and turns of fate.  Time falls away, but these small hours still remain.  Let it slide, let your troubles fall behind you.  Let it shine, till you feel it all around you. 
And I don’t mind if it’s me you need to turn to- we’ll get by.  It’s the heart that really matters in the end.

I hope this didn’t all sound terribly depressing.  I’ve feeling quite the opposite of that.

(Well, aside from the whole grumble grumble sickness thing, from which I think I’m going to quarentine myself tonight)

My “Lent Journey,” (although I don’t really like calling it that) is about brokeness and vulnerability.  There’s something liberating about losing control.  In laughter, in life, in love.

But where do secrets fit in?

I haven’t decided yet if the idea of secrets creating an otherwise unattainable intimacy is good or bad.  It’s the whole idea of “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours first,” that allows us to open up.  While I think the bond a shared secret can create is powerful, I have to wonder why we’re not creating said bonds with all those we come in contact with, and how doing so would change the shape of humanity.

When did wearing your heart on your sleeve develop a bad reputation?

In my selfishness, I have to admit that I do like secrets.  By no means for gossiping power, but for the connection.  One of my favorite things to ask Tony (and I hope he doesn’t get annoyed with this consistent request) is “Tell me a secret.”

It’s the kinesthetic side of me that I’ve inherited from my Pop.  I’ve always wanted to know how things work. 

Posted Secrets.  I usually keep these kinds of things a secret, as I’m afraid of jinxing myself.  So baby steps.  While I want to shout it from the top of every 14er, for now I can write it:

I’ve got a good feeling about this.