Tell Me Lies

But only if they’re sweet and pretty or wait don’t tell me any at all? I’m reading this book about a man who tries to interpret the bible literally and applies all of the rules to his life for one year, but how much interpretation is too much and how do you decide? What’s a white lie, an omission, a flat out evil manipulation of the truth,…

I was just outside on my lunchtime walk enjoying the clear blue skies, sunshine, ..you know the typical Austin end of February day, when I walked by Hooters (not my normal route but I needed to drop off my utilities payment) when 3 guys in army uniforms called out to me.

-Excuse me miss?
-(Internal dialogue: Ignore them and keep walking? They’re probably going to make some stupid comment anyway just keep going. No, it’s a pretty day and you shouldn’t judge them based on where they ate lunch…be nice) “Yes”
-Have you ever thought about joining the military?
-no, laugh, absolutely not!
End of discussion

Then the rest of my walk by Lady Bird Lake was spent analyzing if I lied to them or not instead of just enjoying the thrill of being away from a computer and phone.

Have I ever thought about joining? Well, not about me myself and I joining. I did think about being a civilian teacher employed through the armed services…does that count? And I’ve thought about the topic about joining the military quite a bit. Why do people join, are recruitment tactics fair, what are the advantages to some people who wouldn’t see the world any other way or have access to education, why did my grandparents join, how are people perceived once they join, should recruits believe in the current battles, and the list goes on and on. So clearly I have thought about it and lied to them when I said that I hadn’t.

Do the three guys care? Chances are that the few words we exchanged outside Hooters were not top of their conversation list on the way back to base, so didn’t I accomplish the goal of communication and save them time trying to recruit me when they could be targeting someone else?

Next time I’m going to just stick with “not interested”. That’s honest right?

FOMA

Finally a diagnosis...Friday one of the Rouge Running trainers put a diagnosis to my disease, FOMA (Fear of Missing Anything). It has a name, and I’m not alone.

Everyone else seems to be content to do a couple of things a week, but I love variety and feel like I’m missing life if I say no to an opportunity even if it means that I miss sleep and down time. Yesterday ran 8 miles, hung out at Barton Springs for several hours, read a book, talked others into joining me at the springs, went to mass, out to the Oasis for dinner, and then almost got roped into going to Momos for music. Just looked at my workweek schedule and outside of work: Monday (it’s Presidents Day and I have it off) – running, Barton Springs swim, violin lessons, yoga (maybe dinner with friends), Tuesday – run 3 miles, Capoeira Angola class, Wednesday – run 5 miles, yoga, play “Death and the King’s Horseman”, Thursday – run 3 miles, play “Beat Voices”, beers with friends, Friday – collapse? (or get talked into whatever someone throws out there).

So am I embracing life or just racing through it?

Friday night I had dinner with a new friend and he described his life as a canvas that was being wiped clean of memories every time he goes into work. That increasingly those things he thought he’d always remember and didn’t need to take pictures of or write about in a journal have simply vanished, but somehow the blank canvas has become soothing. My life right now seems to be a bright canvas and my workweek only adds to the color, which seems good right? Then he pointed out that often beauty comes from simplicity.

So do I guide my life toward becoming a garish abstract, an elegant and focused study, or something in between? If the color added compliments the overall work and in the end all of the little dots merge to create a lasting and cohesive work of beauty then doesn’t that show that we can have it all and embrace the journey?

Eliana

It’s a widely known fact that little girls grow up talking about names for their future kids that they may or may not have. Some girls get so attached to the idea that using “their” name can cause a very dramatic end to the friendship. I was never that involved in the game, and along the way have used the names I used to talk about with my little elementary school friends on foster animals. Natasha was given to a beautiful calico with stunning green eyes and Nadia was a sweet mutt. See not that passionate about the game, but then Eliana hit me.

I was reading “Three Cups of Tea” about a mountaineer who grew up at the base of Kilimanjaro and spent his adult life building schools in remote regions of Pakistan and his daughter’s middle name is Eliana. Here’s why it’s perfect:
-It’s a Swahili word which translates into Gift From God, which is my name too. Since I was born on my mother’s birthday my father’s students named me Mmpho-ya-modimo…English translation, Gift From God. Trying to spit that mouthful out would be a curse for any kid growing up outside Botswana, so the Swahili version it is. It would be like having a Jr. but with a fun African link, and be a way to honor my mom too.
-Can be used as Eliana or Eli or Ana
-A few years ago my Auntie Eli (one of my Dad’s sisters) passed away, meaning that my paternal grandparents lost 2 out of 4 children before their time. My brother David’s named after my Dad’s brother, and this way both of the lost siblings could be remembered. Auntie Eli was the person who literally gave me a sense of direction in life. When I was 15 she plunked me down in the car, handed me a road map, and went wherever I told her. It didn’t matter if I made a mistake, we’d just turn around and sort it out and there were definitely a few life lessons learnt along the way.

So there it is. I’m no where near having kids, but I’m going to hold onto this name…just in case.