Forgive my negativity.
It has been too long since I have written any sweet words.

"On Cities"
I have not come across a place
as difficult as you.

Your parks and sidewalks
sparkle,

But tear up my boot's soles,
challenging me to take one more step.

So I climbed to the top of all the no-name bridges,
and sailed away to the jail at sea.

I cannot seem to grasp the congestion of square miles
or the vastness of one urban block.

He has fallen into your rhythms so well;
and I, bow my head in peace,

and command my troops
surrender to your composition.

trusting the process

Maybe I've stopped by the Read 'N Post too many times this past week, but I've found myself quoting those little square cards alot lately. There's this one that has the line "slow down, don't worry, trust the process," on it. I've told a couple people to "trust the process" even though I don't have any idea what it means. A few people I know are starting new jobs in the near future, so I think this is an applicable phrase for them. And just recently my Mom sent me a card that closed with, "don't try so hard, let things come to you," which, in essence, is trusting the process.
I don't quite know how I feel about the process, in general. It reminds me of meat. Processed meat. I don't trust that process in the least.
But when I think that I don't have any plans past the edge-of-my-nose-spring, trusting the process seems like a better choice than calling it a liar. Even if I still don't know how to not try so hard, because something taught me to fight tooth and nail for what I wanted. Even though a good Shepherd asked me to come to Him, and I didn't even have to try at all.
There is some thing so intriguing though about worry and doubt and comparison. They are hard habits to shake. One of my friends told me that it's hard to beat someone if you're not playing the same game. It's harder to compare your Full House to someone's Scrabble bingo and so on. I'm not sure which game I'm playing, but it would be simpler not to play at all.
It can be disheartening to know that I still struggle with the same shortcomings as I did when I was younger. I am trying not to make things happen as much as before. I'm trying to let little pieces of life fall into place, like water freezing in the ice cube trays. I'm trying to listen harder to His voice, above the other bleatings, because I know when the rest of the flock wanders off, He carries me back to the fold.

Step Two:

Keep an even temper. (Even when you're tempted not to.)

How to grow a woman:

Step One: Ride your bike.

la deuxième partie, so to speak

and i suppose a welcome is in order.

you there!