the wonders of the human brain.

It's after one in the morning and I'm still wide awake. Wondering. Wondering about anything and everything. About my future, about what it is that I'm meant to do in life, about what I'm supposed to be, about when the next chapter of my life will begin. Wondering if life should just be one continuous journey not meant to be broken down into chapters. Wondering if it's normal to even wonder as much as I do. I mean, honestly, why is it that my mind never shuts off? Isn't there a pause button somewhere in there? There has to be! 

The truth is, I've tried to quiet my brain. I've tried yoga. Many times! And when I'm there - in the moment - all I think about is how much I absolutely cannot stand it. My mind actually races uncontrollably about the thought of being in a downward dog position. It's painful! My body was not meant to maintain that position and so that's what my mind focuses on. Instead of finding peace and tranquility, my mind is freaking out! Before I know it, I'm wondering where the rest of the day will take me and how I'm going to strategically attack my never ending to-do list.  And then I start thinking about how hungry I am and what I'm going to indulge in after I'm done torturing myself.  It really is quite ridiculous. 

I've tried meditation - a proven, tested method for the ultimate sense of relaxation! Mega fail. Meditation has the completely opposite affect on me. 

Taking a hot shower? Going for a long run? Going to church? Drinking a glass of wine? Forget it. All supreme mega failures. I love all of these things (except for yoga, I really, truly do not like it, as much as I tried to convince myself that I would have this incredible innate passion for it). 

So, as I sit here and type, hoping that my eyes will start to tire so I can crawl into my bed and drift into a deep state of slumber, I realize that maybe it's okay for my mind to wonder. Maybe it's not meant to just shut off. Maybe that's what keeps people thriving. What keeps people curious...motivated...inspired. Maybe it's the driving force behind my seemingly never ending quest of self-discovery and passion for life. Who knows, maybe I'm completely wrong and there is a way for me to turn off that switch in my brain that keeps me up at night, but I'll let you wonder about that.

good night.

dear diary.

Okay, it's true...my ability to be loyal to a blog is looking pretty dismal. I had high hopes that blogging would force me to be loyal in an over the top kind of way, where I'd share all of my stories, thoughts, and ideas with the world. However, given my track record with the million and one diaries I kept as a child, I knew I'd be writing my famous "dear diary, I am SO sorry for not writing sooner...I have so much to tell you!" line sooner rather than later.

Without further ado..."Dear unwoven.blogspot, I am SO sorry for not writing sooner...I have so much to tell you."...

As you read this (*if* you read this), please keep in mind that the purpose of my blogging is to force me to write.  So if you aren't interested in the luna lovegood type of stories and thoughts my brain produces, please move on. Trust me, you won't hurt my feelings. 

Tis the season of giving...With all the giving going on, someone must be receiving...and that's where I come in. I mean this in the most unselfish way possible. I received my first gift a couple of weeks ago while at work. I was at my desk, listening to a volunteer, checking my work e-mail and writing down an important message for my boss, when the phone rang for the hundredth time. Seeing that no one was interested in answering, I impatiently grabbed the phone, plastered a smile on my face and answered the phone...only to hear a nurse on the other end. Before I go any farther, I'd like to express that I am incredibly grateful for all of the nurses in this world; however, and it's a big however, there are some people who just don't belong in that profession. I know that may sound harsh, but it's true. And if you've worked as non-nurse in a hospital, you'd agree. So Miss "I'm a nurse and I'm too busy to do anything" starts barking orders to me (I'm sorry, when did you become my superior??) and demands that I send a volunteer to her floor because she needs a favor (last time I checked, if I needed a favor, I asked nicely). Before I go any further, I'd like to point out that I do not have a room full of volunteers, despite what some nurses may think. With that being said, I didn't have a volunteer "on call" to tend to the charming nurses request, so I figured I'd help her out myself (nevermind all of the things I had to do). I arrived at the nurses station, slightly agitated, and the nurse says "oh you don't have a wheelchair??! I need you to bring down a patient's husband!" Who knew I could read people's minds?! I bit my tongue, smiled, and said very sweetly, "i'm sorry, let me go get one." At this point, I am completely annoyed at Miss Thing for thinking I have nothing else in the world to do, but cater to her every need. Flippantly, I walk away and retrieve a wheelchair and wait for further instructions. The nurse then points me to a room across the hall and asks me to escort a patient's husband to the main lobby where his assisted living car service will pick him up (I'm normally not a negative person, but seriously, don't we employ a whole transport department?!). As I push the wheelchair over to the patient's room, my fake smile quickly dissolves and a completely genuine, straight from my toes, smile takes over my face, as I witness a modern day wonder. In the patient room, I watch a seemingly frail little old lady, dressed in a faded hospital gown reach over to kiss her husband goodbye...this wasn't a peck on the cheek, nor was it a full on makeout session. Instead it was a kiss that embodied *so* much more. It was a kiss that represented a type of passion, hardship, faith, and trust that can only be shared by two people in love. After they kissed, they squeezed each other tight and the equally frail husband whispered, "I love you, sweetheart. I'll see you, soon." As I wheeled him away from the love of his life, I cheerfully asked him how long they have been married. He gently replied, "72 years." I'm hardly ever at a loss of words, but I can honestly say I was then. I quickly recovered and went on to ask what their secret was...As he happily chatted away, I closed my eyes and silently thanked the nurse who asked me to help this gentleman. Call me a hopeless romantic, but a love like that doesn't come around every day.