Naturally Dreamy

A blog about my life as an INFP living with an ESFJ, INTJ, and my pup. I blog about earth-friendly living and life through my eyes – not necessarily in that order. Come put your feet up where life is Naturally Dreamy!


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“The Hardest Thing I’ve Ever Done…” (Clarifier – this post is a discussion on the phrase, not a story of the hardest thing I’ve done. :))

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Does this photo have anything directly to do with the post? Erm… no, I just wanted to add a photo since so many of my posts don’t have one XD Photo source is: one of my many “ooh look at the sky!” photos. ^_^

As I’m interested in trying new things, and launching ideas, inevitably I read other people’s stories.

“Lots of blood, sweat and tears went into making this.” “This is by far the hardest and most rewarding thing I’ve done.” “Learning that was hard, and I came home feeling demoralized, but after a while I pushed through and go to where I am.”

These kinds of sentiments generally inspire me to curl up on the couch and not do anything. If it’s going to be the hardest thing, I think, then why even start?

As I was finishing work today, it occurred to me my paradigm on this subject may not be where others are at.

Heh, when is it ever?

Someone says, “Don’t expect it to be easy. Go into it realizing it will be the toughest thing you’ve ever had to do.”, I think okay. It will be harder than:

  • Staying up for 52 hours during moving and literally falling asleep while holding a printer; being so scarred by the experience that I couldn’t listen to the songs I listened to during it because I got flashbacks to the feel of desperately staying awake
  • Standing in an 85ΒΊ room, pulling the first of 6 lower bedsheets onto the queen bed and telling myself, “If I can do this, I can get through the other 5 beds I have to make. Just take it one second at a time, and you might survive.” It was hot in the upper floor, and hard work to flip the 4 rooms, made harder by the fact I hadn’t eaten anything of substance, and wouldn’t for the rest of the day.
  • Living my life by judgmental rules I believed in logically but not in my heart; systematically alienating everyone I had dealings with. Because that “was only right” apparently and if I didn’t tell them “what was right” who would?
  • Getting a hug from someone who’d just cursed out my Mom (I actually found the yelling that preceeded this and my standing up and stating the truth much much easier than the forced hug of pretend-reconciliation)
  • Leaving all my friends. Multiple times.

Those are some of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I have absolutely no desire to repeat the experience, and definitely not to do something even harder, you know?

Well, those are my hardest things, but taking a step back for a moment, I generally hear “Hardest thing I had to do, but worth it”, also applying to happy things like childbirth. Raising children.

So let’s apply that filter to my life:

  • Coaching Rimfire through his first year of life. He wouldn’t stop barking the night we brought him home. We slept with our hand in his cage and I carried him around for much of his first year. (It was a solution. Definitely not the best one, but the best one I could come up with under the circumstances!)
  • Leaving an abusive situation. I guess most people would call having the rug yanked out from under you, moving from your house because they got it, hiding from a stalker, having no money, and other things as difficult. But I was the happiest person in the world when I held my card that said he couldn’t come within 50 feet. It was my most prized possession – because it meant someone believed me. And it didn’t matter whatever was said. It was a factual, contractual, obligation between the rest of the world and me that the torment of all my years could not come close enough to harm any more.
  • Having 2 pets die
  • Travelling on your own for the first time

I think these are more of the things people would say “hardest thing ever”. But to me they are bright spots in my life.

Because Rimfire had so much separation anxiety and so much to learn, but we went through it together and we’re still together. Having no money is one thing, but it can’t even compare to having no fear. It’s not easy to not know if the next day will be dire, but it never was, we always had enough, and it was more than an equal trade for receiving a brand new way of life. Leonna and Fluffy dying was sad, very very sad. But there was hope in it, too. Fluffy had had a life-saving operation from a very kindly vet. Leonna lived longer than she should have with Feline leukemia, and we buried her in our friend’s yard. Travelling on my own was the scariest thing I faced, but I got to visit my friends, do amazing things, and hear about the adventures of my family when I got back.

I would nay repeat the actually hardest things I’ve done. And I don’t think I should. If starting my business will be hardest along those lines, I hesitate to do so.

But if it’s hardest along the lines of starting a new life, learning a new skill, and doing something you’ve never done before – bring. it. on. I am more than ready, and I’m okay with giving something up for that.

Because I’ve seen that. I’ve seen what they mean by “it’s worth it”. It really is. πŸ™‚

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Baby Steps

BT said something the other day. I actually don’t remember what it was, but it got me thinking a few days after it.

He said something like we were growing up, or out of a situation. It struck me how true that phrasing was. He didn’t say we were growing – he said “Growing ___” making an association in my mind that wasn’t there before.

I took the concept of growing up from baby to adult, and I applied it to the periods of life after major life changes. Maybe every time we make make a significant life transition we also begin the process of ‘growing up’ in it. Things that puzzled me about my past and experiences suddenly fit.

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The Brusque Maid and the Cough at the Concert

The following story – or series of mini-stories – is one of my most vivid memories. You know those kind? The kind that when your thoughts drift and land on a memory, it’s often one of these. One of those that had a funny point, or a summational pinnacle, or has so much crammed in it just makes it special to you? When it gets cold, or I have a cough, my thoughts sometimes harken back to this memory. I hope you enjoy. πŸ™‚

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Shall I Compare My Dream To Helium?

Somebody help me stop dreaming.
Not that dream I woke up from, where everything was happening beyond my control, but the dream I started when I woke up and haven’t stopped thinking of since.

Someone distract me with something shiny.
Because my thoughts are full of hope and promise and my face can hardly control my eyes and smile.

Somebody help me down.
If I stay in this state I don’t know what I’ll trod on; I sometimes can’t see what’s underneath my feet when I walk on Cloud 9.

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Dance Class Tale: When Falling is Good, and the Floor is your Creative Space

I have loved dancing all my life. I feel like it’s always just been a part of my psyche, despite that being rather unsubstantiated by evidence.

But, I quit doing it a few years ago when it began to feel routine and like I was never achieving my goals. I wanted to show the music and I was just doing the same twirl, with no ideas of what else to do.

Watching Autumn Miller dance Survive by Madilyn Bailey kickstarted my idea to try again.

Oh, and when I mean I like to dance, I mean I put on some pop song or Lindsey Stirling, turned it up, and gyrated like a mad woman.

Yup. That’s my style of dance.

via GIPHY

The other side that I guess I should explain is that I actually did get a lot of dance classes when I was young, and in a variety of styles, and even though they’re from when I was toddling about seem to have effected me long since.

Anyways. Yesterday, I took my 4th adult dance class. Yahhh!! πŸ˜€ It’s in contemperary dance, and I’m so glad I gave it a shot. I’m loving it.

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Real Talk with Me :)

I have some thoughts. Some feelings. Things I’ve been trying not to tell people out of concern I’ll come off as nutty. These are some thoughts I’ve been having. This may be more of a ramble, but each subsection has a sorta point to it. πŸ™‚ Feel free to share your recent thoughts, too.

Three years ago, a cashier was nice to me – like over and above nice. I spent a year and a half in limbo, trying to figure out what to do about it. Nobody else knew.

Of course I came to the conclusion that the only sane thing for me to do was to do nothing. Which I solidly did while having my heart stop every time I nearly ran into him, or BT commented on something he did, and scribbling down every time I ran into him in my journal while laughing at myself – because every shopping trip he was there something weird happened.

This January I joined an online dating site, while I have zero interest in dating. This was the year I was going to do things I’d wanted to do, and I’d been curious about these-here dating sites for a while.

As my life usually goes, I messaged one dude who looked really nice, but sent back the wEirDest and most pat messages, and I messaged one dude just to say “hey, there’s a club for that interest, just in case you didn’t know.” He asked me if I liked the dating site, and a couple of other well-thought out questions, and from there an instant acquaintanceship sprang up.

He, BT and I met up and talked for 5 hours in a coffee shop, while rain clouds gathered overhead. The way home was hairy as the rain poured down, and the slick black roads concealed potholes and lane lines, but I was excited about talking to him again.

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