shortness of breath

I have been commonly elected as the most high strung Miller family member... sometimes Liz is, then Arthur has his whole other ball of intensity, but people say I'm serious. Other people think I'm free-spirited, etc. This week. I. am. anxious.

I felt my heart race as we waited in line for free pasta at the end of the Snug Run (5k with the incentive of free pasta and cheap beer. it gets my ass out on the trail for sure:) but the line was not moving. The pasta was nowhere to be seen. Sweaty people poured into the cavern under the snug and my heart began to race. It raced, my breath was not keeping very good time (not bc i ran like crazy or anything, this was a good 10-15 minutes post-5K) and I felt an unfamiliar panic take over. I'm not claustrophobic, in fact my ideal bedroom would be like the one in brigadoon where its more of a closet with no windows and you can cozy into the nook. Three more times it has happened since last Thursday. I am stressed and I need it to go away soonish.

As Athena and I drove down to the Springs yesterday she turned down the music and asked me to tell her about everything that was making me feel so anxious.

There are small boy-issues:

1. a good guy friend I'm not sure if I have more feelings toward. A coworker asked 20+ questions about said friend then gave me his theory on our friendship-should-be-relationship and proposed we "try it out" or something. I told him he just jacked my whole paradigm and I didn't appreciate it but he got in my head and now I've been battling the "do I like him like that? He doesn't give good hugs though. But he does like......" and I curse my coworker. grrrr.
2. Having to let go of a daily-banter-boy that makes me smile bc emotions were getting tangled in and it was an unrealistic crush.
   

Work. I have been offered a great position at a school I love and believe in.

1. I don't think the salary is fair... but we're in an economy that is less flexible than any time I've known.
   
2. I don't feel valued, appreciated, sought after... for my education, experience and commitment I've made for the past 6 months... but there is a season in everyone's life where we have to prove ourselves (and maybe that season is longer than I'd like).
3. I don't trust every piece of the organization... so when are we a part of the change and when is it too much to take on without letting it chip away at your optimism?
4. It could be a great learning experience - to be a part of a startup school, exposure to great organizations, go home with hilarious stories of kids thoughts on life, partner with a dear friend in a similar school, encourage kids that may not have much encouragement at home, consistent income with benefits (not that i EVER go to the stinking doctor... I DO need to visit a dentist though. that could be nice).

My uncle dying has stirred in me a world of feelings, thoughts and experiences from my past that are yet to be dealt with for the first time, second time or others that I face daily.

1. I miss my dad. But you are loved. You are loved by friends, family and a number of good men that have stepped in as fathers when you have needed them.
   
2. Who will I ask about my dad that knew him better than my uncle? My dad's cousins, Bobby and Cheryl, said they'd love to share stories of their childhood with my dad and his brothers. They apparently have a farm a couple hrs from Denver as well as close friends here in town and would LOVE to get together as much as possible.
3. After my car accident I have a subtle fear of intersections and driving in high-traffic times. Since my uncle passed I can't help but think of every one of those father-figures in my life and wonder how much death I can handle. I am not a fearful woman (i may have to repeat this a few more times today) but I now see more clearly the risk you take when you love deeply... the pain when that love is lost and your heart is broken. I can't give up now, but God give me strength.
4. I worry about Aunt Clare, my older brother, keeping in touch with that side of the family, the Miller legacy, etc.

So i guess there is a lot feeding my anxiety. I know it won't just go away, but I need to embrace these things and move through them.

I babysat friday and saturday night though... all is not lost. Here are the girls that made me laugh this weekend:

Hunter and Ava... too freaking cute!

julia (aka judo)

and my dear friend calley.

sorting it through

i'm still sorting through it all, the death and reality of life after another father-figure dies. tough stuff that won't be sorted anytime soon but has prompted a reclusive season... and negotiating for a potential job and discouraged by 1.the lack of pursuit by potential employer as well as 2.my own ego so apparently in tact.

a happy picture from time at home with two of the kiddos. Ruby and half of benjamin.

When asked to write about heroes, one 5th grader notes Rosa Parks and the other Run DMC. Thank you pop culture.

the void

This was one train of thought I had about Uncle Shelby. Its the selfish part of what I'll miss. There's more, like his example of strength to live on without both parents or any of his brothers, his love for aunt clare that represented struggle and perseverence followed by a depth you don't see these days. He was so calm in his strength, but fierce with his passion for each of us to reach our potential, no excuses no matter the hardship.

The "25 random things" about yourself on Facebook was an internet phenomen they say. When you really look at those types of things, it makes sense. We all want to be heard, to be thought of as unique or special. Therefore, the opportunity to share a whopping 25 of those unique-ities about oneself fills a very present void. The void can also be filled by faith – in a God that constantly affirms our identity as a specifically created being.

Sometimes that little (or gaping) place in my heart has been filled by my parents, grandparents, aunts or uncles that have seen my soul form since I was little and exclaim at the smallest of feats. The moment my mom brought me a Gatorade to my little league game, even though I didn’t play enough to sweat, I felt like a star. I remember sitting on my front porch of “the yellow house” while my dad rolled a joint (yes, didn’t know it back then, but now I know why pot smells like home) and we talked about life. He made me feel special as we sat in silence while fishing or he taught me a new bball move. My uncle Shelby, oldest Miller brother, stepped in when his baby brother, my dad, passed away. He would call and ask about our report cards, check on our bball skills, come watch games, scream louder than anyone else when each of us walked across the stage at graduation. I remember when I was really little and he taught all us Miller girls a song “I’m a pretty little girl, with a pretty little figure so stay away boys till I get a little bigger.” He made us sing it every time we came to visit. He reminded me that I was unique, worth great things and destined for more than mediocrity. He has been a voice in my head when I question whether I should challenge myself in my education, career, athletics or love. I picture him telling me how proud he is of me and asking the tough questions that kept me accountable. And I knew that if he didn’t, my Aunt Clare would fill right in.

My Uncle Shelby passed away last night. My little heart is sad. It is the ending of the Miller era, he being the oldest and last surviving Miller brother. In many ways its like my dad’s death all over again, but this time as an adult. His legacy will help fill this void.

brain-break meets productivity police.

Sometimes when I’m bored and needing a brain-break I peruse blogs. I start with the one’s specifically related to Young Professionals or Leadership-esque stuff, such as myself (ha), then I slip over to the ones that brighten my day with an obscure story or update on close friends life. I feel guilty. I have an overactive conscience. Even if I truly believe I am more productive when I take a few minutes to breathe and “shift gears” I still feel guilty like the productivity police are going to come around the computer and shut me down. True confession.

heart heavy.

I've contemplated writing about my trip home for the past few weeks. I am still wrestling with some of what occupied my thoughts while home. The light, laughter-infused moments were plentiful - dinner parties, sister time, watching ruby (now 2 yrs old!) play with the month-old pups in the back yard, live music with the Hillbilly Potentates and Aaron's new band, embraces from people that know my soul without knowing my life.

The heavy stuff came as I heard about marriages and relationships that are such a burden that some have lost hope. My friend Devi wrote (her blog is great) of a wedding day in which she looked at the bride, and though beautiful as she was, Devi saw hope capturing the bride's expression."There is a swelling expectancy inside for a better, sweeter life that is literally just an hour or two away. " I am a hopeful romantic and I hate to see that hope chipped away in the eyes of people I love. Some seemed weary, others bitter and some simply discouraged. I don't have the answers but it made my heart heavy to see what I am often reminded of - we are fallible and the union of two people is only worth hoping for when God is given room to redeem us, as individuals, but even more miraculously, as he brings us together. More thoughts on this, but this is the most succinct I can make these thoughts as of today.

On a lighter note, here are pics from the fun stuff...

From Spring Breakish Homeland

Myself, Megan and Keely Rae from our unplanned-twinky run/jog session

From Spring Breakish Homeland

My little Ruby - what a beautiful little person.

From Spring Breakish Homeland

Big brother Arthur, Kristi and nephew Parker's 1st bday cake!

From Spring Breakish Homeland

Ruby and my little bro - she screamed "roooowwwwlin! rollin!"

From Dinner/Game Night at Megs

Dinner Party with good people... smattering of new and old friends.

From Dinner/Game Night at Megs

chopper buttfart (megs dog) with booty in the face.

From Dinner/Game Night at Megs

Surprise Leah! The magazine was good... I was just reading.

From Dinner/Game Night at Megs

Megan and her following.

blow. check for color & consistency. breathe and repeat if necessary

Does anyone else blow their nose then promptly open the tissue to see what just came out of their stuffed nostrils? For the past couple weeks I’ve had a head-cold, the most long-lasting, isolated and literal HEAD COLD I think I’ve ever had. Therefore, this is common routine, much to the chagrin of my coworker a few cubes over, I’m sure. I remember my mom was able to gauge the progress of my recovery by the color and consistency of my hard work so now its just second nature for me. Is it for you? Pray tell… everything you ever wanted to know about phlegm.

Sidenote: After closer examination and discussion with my coworkers (not about the boogers, but the head-cold-ness of the situation) I have kinda come to the conclusion that I have allergies. I am not sold on this yet bc I've never had nor want to have allergies.