All posts by X Teri

Personal, Religion

A Day of Ecclesiastes

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The day started perfectly, even though an observer might mistake its onset for just another day. That’s the magic of life; all of it is in the heart and eye of the beholder. Mine was full.

One of my favorite things in this life is my hand-written copy of Ecclesiastes. It was on my mind today as I traversed the day. It wasn’t the religious undertones that sparked the connection; it was the multiple themes of mortality, existence, suffering, wisdom, and time. Today was a wild mix of activities. I walked through it as if touched by the lightest of magic. I added more creativity, affection, and humor to the day than I took from it, and I felt buoyant for having done so. As often happens, life then snuck an unseen hammer into my periphery and hit me on the head with it. It’s an ongoing and hard lesson to be reminded that one’s intentions, though colored with optimism, can give birth to their opposite.

A few people wrote to me and admonished me for jumping picnic tables this week or walking in the 3 p.m. sun—both of which I did again today. But I also did my best to brighten a few people’s day, which often turns out to be riskier than risking life and limb against the breadth of a picnic table.

It could have been worse: I could have shouted the F-bomb loudly while standing next to my manager. Someone else is guilty of that one. It was an accidental moment of fun. I took a risk and sponsored a frivolous game for a meeting at work. Note: my coworker didn’t shout the F-bomb in response to my game, at least not directly. The takeaway lesson from the meeting is that everyone looks like George Clooney.

I sat and read Ecclesiastes before I took my afternoon walk in the scorching sun. It’s an austere lesson, one that directs me every time to be glad for the moments I had.

On so many levels, that’s all we have.

It’s so odd that on some days, it’s more than enough.

And others? I weep for my expectations. ..

PS The double rainbow is from a recent Sunday morning. I stole a walk among the rainy outbursts that chased me across Fayetteville. What a beautiful morning that was.

Humor, Mental Health, Personal

Marketing 101

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Today, when I walked in to see the counselor, I handed her this card. She’s accustomed to my sense of humor and laughs authentically when I catch her off-guard. I was incredibly lucky to randomly find her.

There’s a punchline to this. I told her that I came up with the perfect tagline for her as-of-yet written proposal for workgroup mental health discounts: Crazier By The Dozen.

“I’m not sure prospective clients would understand the humor.”

“Well, then they ARE crazy, aren’t they?”

I feel like I won at life in that brief moment.

Health, Personal, Safety, Social Rules

You Live, And You Don’t Learn

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You have to start small. But sometimes, you have to stop thinking and trust yourself. In my case, I know I’m an idiot. So worrying about s-t-a-r-t-i-n-g to think is a bit excessive.

Because I lost so much weight, I now get these ideas that seemed ridiculous to me before. Losing weight erased much of the sense I could fake and replaced it with a noted capacity for more what-could-go-wrong thinking.

One of my favorite places here has a couple of picnic tables. It’s not that they’re tall, but rather that they’re wide. (A problem I used to have personally, too.) So if you’re going to take a run and jump, you better be prepared to lunge with a wild enthusiasm that will clear you. Otherwise, you’re going to figure out what a somersault feels like, one with splinters and a broken head. (If you’re a masochist and reading this, it still isn’t advisable, so take note.)

This tendency to fail to jump with all your enthusiasm and effort is one of the biggest reasons so much goes wrong in life.

Yesterday, without any preparation, I cleared my head of reason and restraint and ran ten steps… and jumped. To my horror, I cleared the table. Today, I walked around to gauge the logistics of the other table. Instead, I took off running and hurdled it like an ice cream buffet on weigh-in day. I landed a foot further than I needed. I applauded myself like I had brain damage and took a bow.

As I sat on the bench of the picnic table, rubbing my victory in, so to speak, a woman came around the side of the building. She had watched my jump from the vantage of one of the many windows along the back, unbeknownst to me.

“But can you jump the table lengthwise?” she asked.

Although I wasn’t sure I would be able to, I knew that I could, if conditions were perfect. And if they weren’t, at least the witness would have a great story to tell, the one about the middle-aged nutcase jumping a picnic table lengthwise.

The table in question wasn’t much longer than its length. In any case, I’ve lived a good life. I jumped up and turned. Just as I was about to run and jump (or try to), the woman said, “NO! I didn’t mean for you to try it!”

I laughed. I didn’t attempt the jump. Not today, anyway. I’ll call Blue Cross and ask a couple of questions. And reconsider my options tomorrow.

A year ago, I wouldn’t have tried to jump a picnic table. Now, I see metaphorical picnic tables everywhere.

Love, X.

Art, Personal, Social Rules, Springdale

Today Is

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Today Is

It was 90+ outside, so it seemed reasonable to take a walk on the hot sidewalks and streets at 3 in the afternoon, especially since I was still dressed in black. Since I’ve been experimenting with various incarnations of chalk, today I carried a stick of very light lime green on this walk. In the event of heat stroke, I could at least scrawl out a last message as I melted on the sidewalk: “I’m a dumbass” would probably cover it. It’s not poetry, but it’s accurate, much in the same way that Luke Bryan is singing, but it wouldn’t necessarily fall into the category of ‘music.’

I went inside to get an unsweetened tea to drink on my way back. I knelt with my back against the sun and wrote “TODAY” on the sidewalk in front of the store. The very light lime green brilliantly contrasted with the shadow created by my profile against the blistering sun. I noted that the pale green seemed to morph into blue against the shadow.

“Hey, what’cha doing?” a voice asked as I stood up. A 20-something man was the source of the voice. He was, of course, smoking. But definitely not smoking hot or smoldering with a hidden intelligence. Walgreens is the Walmart of the pharmacy world.

“Making art,” I said, keeping my face impassive and stoic.

“It looks like you’re writing with chalk to me,” he said.

“Art is the convergence of the mundane with the sublime, dude.” I laughed. I waited for him to retort in reply, as I’m nothing if not courteous.

I walked away as I put my chalk back into my front pocket, possibly in an attempt to entice people to coyishly inquire if I was happy to see them or if I had a stick of chalk in my pocket. Being curious-minded, I did ponder how many adults in Springdale had chalk in their pocket at that exact moment.

Because of the success of the color of chalk, I wrote a poem, one and two words at a time, stretching for over a mile. Above me, the sun did its best to erase my enthusiasm for the task. It amused me to know that it would be challenging to read the poem back in the order I wrote it.

And though the thing I described as art is transitory and fleeting, I suspect I’ll remember the moment. I hope the smoking young man remembers it too, trying to figure out if he had witnessed something ridiculous or sublime. It’s all in the eye of the beholder; art, love, stolen moments in the hot sun.

If you’re reading this, I’m talking to you.

I hope your today had a chalky moment too.

Love, X

For every divine moment that can be experienced…

Diet, Health, Personal, Weight Loss

54 161.5 0

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54 years old, 161.5 lbs, zero prescription medications.

I didn’t have a say in the first and the last two seem impossible compared to a year ago.

(On the other hand, I didn’t expect to get derailed in ways that I hadn’t anticipated, either; this is probably a common human circumstance. We’re so busy watching the sidewalk for hazards that the falling anvil goes unnoticed. I failed on a personal level more than once in the last year, ridiculously so. And without therapy, I might have not only derailed my life but done so in the widest possible ravine.)

I still don’t take credit for the second, the weight loss, either. I knew on that day in October that I wasn’t going to be fat anymore. I think that idea of it has taken on a life of its own though, one not entirely anchored to reality. When I think back to it, I didn’t feel the ‘snap,’ but it echoed in me. And still does. The more I explain it to people now, the more they squint at me a bit – unless they’ve experienced something similar.

Although I wasn’t trying to lose more weight, I got on the scale after noticing my belt was wonky again. I weighed in at 161.5. In January, I wrote about the idea of reaching 160 lbs just once. It’s not sustainable, especially as I start doing pushups or anything that builds mass.

One of my favorite people asked if 160, or 155 would be ‘enough.’ I answered easily: “Yes.” 160 isn’t sustainable for me, not really. She was worried I might succumb to the idea that no amount of weight loss would be enough. Addressing that, I do admit that I got on the scale again this afternoon to weigh. And it just didn’t seem right – or even possible that I weigh 161.5. That’s about 90 lbs lighter than my heaviest. What balances my head out about all this is that I also know that I will never be fat again. That kind of confidence can be dangerous.

…which leads me to my next stupid fear. The more on track I stay in regard to eating better and staying the right weight, the more likely it feels like the other shoe might drop. Any of us at any moment can have a seemingly random event derail us. It’s one of the bitterest parts of life. All of us know people who’ve done everything right and still find themselves dealing with crazy health events, ones often impossible to see approaching.

Note: I am not saying I did everything right, not by a long shot.

Thanks to Blue Dress Project, I’ve also been doing push-ups. Although I have to be very careful due to my back and shoulder, it’s been interesting trying to incorporate them into my daily routine, whether in groups at the end of my work shift, or each time I go to the bathroom. (Which sounds misleading, I will admit.) It will be interesting to see whether such additional strength training will add weight. Or kill me. Haha.

Yes, I do know that muscle mass burns more calories. I’m just not sure I want to do pushups for the rest of my life. On the other hand, it seems a great percentage of adulthood is having to do things that we’d rather not. Or we’re doing it wrong, the adulthood thing, I mean.

Uncategorized

Because Time Is Short II

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“Because time is short” is a phrase that came to me in a song in a dream, one so dense and imaginative that I woke up still hearing the lyrics almost humming in my throat.


I’ve found myself to be using it as a preface in many conversations, especially when I find myself cutting across the normal social conventions that we politely adhere to instead of just stating our truth.

Now that I’ve found that I’m not quite as sane as I previously believed, it helps me to telegraph that I’m not just speaking tritely. Our days are stuffed with enough of that already.


A couple of times, it might have alarmed the other person, as if taken that way, it adds an ominous tone to the message.


Because time is always short; if not for me, then for thee.
*One of my favorite quotes, from “No Country For Old Men”“All the time you spend trying to get back what’s been took from you there’s more going out the door. After a while, you just try and get a tourniquet on it.”