Family, Life, Me

Bullfrogs and Butterflies don’t have a problem with it…

I was thinking about change today.  I spent some time remembering when I turned 14 and I was anxiously waiting to morph from a child to a young woman.  I remember putting on my wedding dress, morphing from a single woman to a married woman.  I remember laying on the exam table at the doctor listening to my baby’s heartbeat for the first time, morphing yet again.  There have been so many changes.

My mother, God rest her soul, could not wait to announce to the whole world when I put on my first bra.  I was mortified, she was so proud.  Years later I did the same thing to my own daughter, this time I laughed…at her and at myself.  I got it, finally.

In this world where I choose to live, the non-native world, change is feared.  Change is not taught as a good thing.  Women are lamenting the loss of something that was never meant to be static.  Change is supposed to happen.  My mother celebrated my changing, each and every step, and while I was usually horrified at her for doing so I had to become a mother myself to see what she was so happy about.  When change is happening without regard to scheduling or weather or fashion then life is unfolding as it should.

I am changing yet again….no longer a women who has children at home.  The non-native world might say I was an empty-nester, the traditional world just sees this as part of the grand scheme, normal and worth celebrating.  My body continues to change.  It has been a little strange only in the sense that it has been a long time since I have had to experience major physical changes.  But I have to admit, I am excited and happy about what comes next.  I will celebrate this change even though my own mother is no longer here to celebrate with me.  Even that, time for her to return to her true home, was a celebration for me.  It was, after all, what she taught me was supposed to happen.

These are the things that I taught my own daughter and I trust she will pass them down to her own children when the time comes, our traditions being mostly oral.  I am comfortable with the knowledge that my mother did not waste her time or energy celebrating the changes in my life and that I have not wasted my time or energy either as I celebrated my daughter’s changing life.

I am excited about what new adventures await me as my, yet again, changed life unfolds.

Standard
getting in shape, Me, Native American Women

If I Could Just Get Off the Couch

Running around town, running water to do the dishes, running my mouth…so much to do  but not accomplishing the goal that I set for myself two years ago.  I have what I consider a typical Native American woman’s body and according to my doctor puts me in the group of women who are at higher risk for heart problems.  I had wanted to be in good shape by now.  But like so many women I have let life take me by the nap of the neck and shake me up.  I am not in good shape.

My blog is my gift to myself.  My own way of inspiring me.  I like to write, I like to create, I like to see projects come together but somehow the “me” project has yet to get off the ground.

I would like to be able to run a half marathon.  I have no desire to enter a race or get a tee-shirt.  I have no running partner and no fancy diary to keep track of my miles.  I haven’t even quit smoking yet.  I do love a challenge.

This will not be a runner’s diary.  I would be too bored just writing about running or rather writing about trying to run.  Here is a good place to help me stay motivated. I have a new grandbaby on the way.  I sit and listen to my contemporaries complain about not having the energy to keep up with a toddler, I don’t want to be another one of those grannies.  Well, truth be told, I am….but I don’t want to continue to be.  Making blankets and afghans should not wear me out.

Today is my day to start writing, tomorrow is my day to sit in the office for 10 hours or so…somewhere in there is the time to walk a mile or two.  It’s a start.

Standard