Is It Muggy Outside, or Is It Just Me?

I apologize preemptively for my stretch of a metaphor. You've been warned. I also apologize because it was SUPPOSED TO BE COLD OUTSIDE... and I'm kind of bitter about it... Anyways.

I don't know about you, but I love mugs; perhaps because they can be whimsical, or because of the warmth they bring, or because one can drink hot chocolate, or coffee, or tea out of them. But I love them. And it's that time of year again (at least for me) where I pull out my blanket, my fuzzy socks, my owl mug, and my hot cocoa mix and spend a little bit of time taking care of myself when it's (supposed to be) chilly and cloudy.

Recently, I've noticed that I've been taking care of myself a lot. There's the phrase saying that "you have to fill your cup before you can fill someone else's," and I've been wondering why mine has felt so empty. Is my mug just small--meaning that it needs to be refilled more often? Have I been emptying myself out without realizing? Have I carelessly been spilling everything on the floor again? Or is something else wrong--is there a crack or a hole in my mug?

Some people are better at helping others, and are better at coping with stress--which means that while they might not look like they have to take care of themselves, they just don't have to as often.

I have a tendency to focus on things that I have done wrong, and I often fail to notice when I've done something useful. When I perform a simple act of kindness, I don't see it as that; I see it as something I should automatically do. When I hold the door open, or when I listen to a friend or a stranger talk about their struggles, it's not an act of kindness in my mind; it's a common courtesy. Perhaps we notice when we are drained when we have done something hard for us--when we have went out on a limb to help someone, we notice the effort. But we don't notice the effort if it's a habit. But the habit still takes energy. A gymnast still uses a ton of energy even if she knows her routine by heart.

It's also difficult to be our best selves when there are cracks and holes in the mugs. For the sake of the metaphor, I'm saying that cracks are sin, and holes are manufacturing errors--things that we can't control (mental illness, stress, trauma, and life in general). Sin wears away at us slowly--sometimes so slowly that we don't notice how much. We make bad decisions and notice them after the fact. We deal with stress; some of us worry, and some of us worry a lot. There are things that, to a certain extent, are beyond our control, that drain us.

A mug can't work if there are holes or cracks in it--at least not as well as it should. Someone has to fix it--with glue and ceramic pieces. This process takes time, and efforts, and lots of layers of glue. The holes and the cracks are still there, but they're manageable. Similarly, we have to glue ourselves back together, and find those who will help us; we have to take care of ourselves. When it comes to sin--going to confession, thinking about what leads us to sin, making a plan to do better, and having someone to hold you accountable can be helpful. If we're struggling with something, a cup of hot coco, a hug, talking to a friend, seeking professional help (no matter how scary) is important. Something that I struggle with is remembering to eat and getting enough sleep. But smashing the handle off a mug isn't going to help fixing the hole in the bottom; it creates more work for the fixer.

I think we also need to dwell on what we are filling ourselves with--are we filling ourselves with good things or bad things that will leave stains? Are we taking opportunities to spend time with God and be with Him? Are we relying on Him? Or are we filling ourselves with our own personal happinesses.

Long story short: Take care of your mug, and fill it wisely.

Beauty in the Storm

I recently found out that I'm not studying abroad this coming semester in Manchester. And I've been really sad because it's something that I've wanted for three years. I'm upset about all of the things that I was going to do in Manchester that I now can't do.  I'm sad that I won't get to try British tea, and go to the museums in Manchester. I'm probably going to be sad for a while, and I may or may not tear up in the middle of class or in-between classes. And that's okay. But I've been really lucky to have friends who are super supportive, whether by offering hugs, food, or prayers. They try to brighten my day. One friend offered to pray the rosary for me, while another offered to take me journal shopping--because I have an obsession with stationary and writing--another tried to bring me food, and they all offered me hugs... Lots and lots of hugs. My favorite moments with them were perhaps those moments when I forgot what I had lost, and I was in the present moment--spending time with them and laughing. They reminded me of all the good things that I would be here for, like Ice Skating, Awakenings, Spring Break, my 21st Birthday (which will actually mean something here).

Seeing and hearing a storm coming can be terrifying, and it can be miserable when you walk out of class to find yourself in the middle of a downpour. Every day we are faced with storms, moments of suffering, struggle, and hardship. We face many open doors and can be uncertain of which one to go through. We face having a door shut, and we are sad because we don't have the opportunity to go through that door, and see what that door could have offered.We face a lot of reminders of what could have been or what hasn't happened yet. And that means we can feel sad or anxious. And I think that in moments of sadness, just like our friends here on Earth, God is trying to brighten our day. He sends us clouds, and flowers, a bird flitting on the ground or through the snow. He walks with us, and reminds us of His presence in the wind. Bolts of lightning, the satisfying sound of thunder and rain on a rooftop. A good section in a song, or the giggle of a baby while you're sitting in church. He sends us the friends who hug us and hold our hands. He walks with us through others. And we each have the opportunity to not only walk with God, but be God to someone else by caring for them. But no pressure.

In today's Mass readings, it says, in Psalms 33:
"But the plan of the Lord stands forever;
the design of his heart, through all generations...
upon those who hope for his kindness,
to deliver them from death
and preserve them in spite of famine,"

God's plans, his designs, are from his heart. God is an artist--an artist follows their passions, and values the integrity of their pieces. God sees value in each of his creations, and he takes the time to make them as they were meant to be. They're carefully crafted with love, rather than logic. He is not looking for the most efficient way, or the hardest, or the easiest way. He is looking for the best way. The way that will bring us to our most beautiful selves. And He uses the storms that we face in our lives to mold us into who we could be. And we should hope for his kindness--his love. Because God is full of kindness, and He is showing it to us constantly. I think that even in sadness we can find little moments of joy if we only remember to look.

So my long story short, God gives us beauty in the storm.