Side Notes and Rabbit Trails

A friend texted me a quote recently that really stuck with me - "Would you rather suffer the pain of discipline or the pain of regret?"

I hate discipline. I'm not gonna lie. Discipline makes me put away my beloved sweets and get an apple instead. It makes me go running when I want to watch a movie and get up when I want to sleep. But after nearly 2 weeks of trying to be extra disciplined, and failing spectacularly, I'm learning that the pain of regret is a hell of a lot more poignant than the pain of discipline. You know. I'm sure we've all been there.

Except for all those perfect people. Thanks for setting the bar high, perfect people. I am short in stature and short on self-discipline and I cannot reach your standard.

On my own.

Dude, I love the guy who invented contacts so I can like, see people's faces and all, but seriously. There's a freakin plastic disk in my eye. I wonder what my opthamologist sees when she looks at my cornea. "You been ice skating on this thing, or what? I've seen fewer scratches on my 86 year old grandmother's Buick. Someone needs to take away her license."

Sometimes you can't make it on your own (borrowed your lyrics, Bono. You can have them back when I'm done). I think that's where not only the strength of our God comes in, but also where the strength of our community is awakened. And I use community in the sense of "a group with a common connection", not "people in the house across the street". Though they can be included if they want. There is such value in like-minded people joining together with a common focus. I've had so many conversations about things I've been struggling with even just over the last weekend and in each one, the person I spoke to had a different perspective, suggestion, or solution for me, one that I couldn't have come up with on my own.

I just googled "angry puppies".




Another benefit of community is plain old encouragement. Even if someone can't offer a solution, they can, and usually do, let you know that they are behind you no matter what. Who wouldn't want to get in on that?

I wonder what it's like to come back from the dead. Seriously. That's nuts.

I have an empty jar sitting on my desk. Until this morning, it held an item that was a memory of something that I really needed to let go of. I emptied it out earlier.. and though it was only symbolic, the act depicting the release of things I need to stop holding on to was... liberating. That empty jar is ready for new memories now. Or maybe M&Ms.

This is what you get when you Google "cutest bunny ever":



You're welcome.