Dwell In Possibility

Emily D. said that.  I realize I'm verging on a funk.  Only one way out:  dwell in possibility.

I told my dad today that part of the thing I'm trying to do here is to use everything that God has given me, to not waste a single gift.

"Take it from your heart.  Put it in your hand."  --Arcade Fire  (the band that helps me keep the linoleum stuck to the kitchen floor)

What is possible?

There are really simple things I know I could do.  Let's make a list:

1.  Exercise.  I realize almost every person alive has this on his or her list.  Seriously, though.  Lisa.  Do it.  You're getting older.  You need movement if you're going to keep moving.  Plus, you've got a bit of continental shifting taking place, if you catch my drift.  Don't wait until 80% of you has to be tucked into your socks before you can tie your shoes.

2.  I don't know what to do about the time thing.  I wholeheartedly believe that our time belongs to God.  I'm not sure if I'm doing a good job of this or not.  

3.  Bah.  I'm already tired of making this list.  Are you still reading?

All I know is that I can only do what comes up from one minute to the next and do it with everything I've got.

I would love one day swinging in the hammock listening to the pivot's radio static, white noise of water through the corn, eyes closed imagining I'm at Niagara.

I would love an RV and a fishing pole.  A dutch oven, a guitar, a campfire, some stars.

I think I know what's happening here, folks.  This girl is dreaming of one last summer vacation hoorah.  Thank goodness.  I really didn't want to start exercising.