Hearing the Music

There’s never been a time in my life so far, where running hasn’t helped me focus back on my faith and find solace. The whole physical aspect of it, where the pain and peace work together in rhythm, help me resync myself.  But there have been times where I’ve been burnt out. Or the times where I’m supposed I need to rest because I’ve just come off a long training period. Or the times where I’ve been injured and had to rest.  And it’s in those times when my soul has become restless. When something has been missing.

And in the past few months, I’ve found it again.

My guitar. 

I had forgotten how much playing and singing placed my soul at peace.  Like everything in my life, I am mediocre at guitar… nothing special. But there is something about calloused fingers, picks in my pocket, sheet music spread around my apartment, and the deep, harmonious worship lifted to my Maker that saves me when I need to rest.

I picked it up in high school for the heck of it… but like the mighty guy he is, God had greater plans.  So, my parents bought me the nicest, cheapest starter guitar for Christmas and I started teaching myself to play.

Fast forward two years and I land at ISU where God connects me this awesome djembe playing chick who I now call my best friend. What awesome acoustic nights we had.  That year I also met Casey, pretty much the guy I’ve always looked up too when it comes to playing music. Though he didn’t really know it, he was one of my worship partners. 
Six months later I’m sitting in the campus house messing around with my guitar and in walks Casey, along with a few other friends, with a Martin. Turns out he had gotten together with my other best friend, Cait, and they decided I needed something a little more professional if I was going to be leading worship.

Martin, as I so affectionately call him, had some great memories of worship… whether is was just stripped acoustic or leading, playing was just as much of my heart as running.

But for some reason, I stopped.  I don’t really know why, but I did, and even though I knew something was missing, I couldn’t, for the life of me this past year, manage to pick up and play. Even though I had a reason to play this summer. Cait got married a few weeks ago and wanted me to do her wedding song/worship song. But it was hard at first picking my guitar back up to learn the music.  For the first part of summer, I just played. There was no heart to it. And I struggled.

That is, until Casey stepped back into my life this summer. He was always my inspiration for playing. Probably because I just wanted to be as good as him, or maybe I just wanted to show off to him… either way, not a day goes by now where I don’t pick it up and imprint some calluses into my hands. Playing again, my heart feels peaceful. 
And I feel so blessed and honored to have been a part of Cait’s beautiful day. I should blame her really. She just HAD to ask me to play ;) I stood up there singing about how great our God is and watched in awe at how He had moved in not only her and her now-husband’s lives, but in the lives of all of my friends present that day.

 

I’ve been going to a new church these past few months and finally got up the courage last week to write on my little attendance slip that I’d like to maybe help out with worship.  I’m ready to play again. To learn again. To worship again. And tonight, I saw God move in my life.  I walked into worship practice and I was nervous and shy. The first thing the minister wanted to know is what I do. I’d told him earlier this week that I sing and play and so he invited me to come tonight and practice.  Turns out, they’re looking for a lead guitar player. Someone to have a solid rhythm matched with the vocals and harmonized with the piano. 

I love how God placed a simple ‘ole burgundy guitar in the hands of a seventeen year old gal ready to lead her to a chance to play music for Him.  Even if it is the simplest stuff.

My heart is at peace. Sometimes, all it takes is that simple step of faith because once we do that, once we trust, God equips us and moves mountains. Now I’m just waiting for Casey to get back here so one day, we can worship together again.

 

And Autumn smells like

Leaves.
Because that’s how she knew it.
And it was in the soggy crunch when
she heard ‘sometimes’.

Her midnight run collected the sounds
of the changing season. And the town ignored her. And
the music played once again. And

Love Happens.

Branded

I figured since I made it through my triathlons, and hope to turn into a lifetime hobby, why not seal the reminder deal for myself.

 

So. I was branded.

 

I have had plans since this summer to get a triathlon tattoo after I finished my races, but my plans were to incorporate it with my running tattoo on my foot. However, I decided to be bold and I wanted it to stand alone. I went for the arm.

 

I know. It’s quite visible now, even when I wear Tshirts, but its not like I walk around flexing all the time :) So it’s actually quite hidden. About the only time it will be seen is when I’m working out or wearing shorter sleeves. But I love it.

Someone asked me this week why there, and I replied, “It attests to my strengths and my heart.” By strengths, on a literal level, the tattoo hurt but so does triathloning. And I don’t just have the tattoo to have the tattoo. I have it because I finished the race. I am a triathlete. It shows what I have done, and on a figurative level for me it is what I have been through. The start of my race was the end of a part of my life and the finish line was the beginning of another. And now that’s where I am.  Chasing those finish lines.

I specifically chose my left arm because it’s closest to my heart. After all, we wear wedding bands on the left hand because the Greeks believed there was a vein that ran directly from the third finger to the heart. And triathloning is part of my heart. Its who I am now. Its who I want to be. And its what I want to chase, even if I never win.

It is often hard to explain to others why I I run so much or why I put myself through such hard training and pain, but I find that training and running and finishing simply quiets my soul and fuels my faith. Maybe someday I’ll write a book about it. Until then, I’ll just swim, bike, and run.

And maybe flex every once in awhile. 

Lines of poetry

Oh life. How you sneak up on me.  It has been too long since my thoughts have graced this blog, but it’s because they are too busy gracing essays, and papers, and freshman rubrics. Then there’s that small amount of free I have that tends to be consumed by the gym and training.  Needless to say, some things get pushed to the wayside…I really shouldn’t let it be this.  So my apologies to you faithful readers. I will probably be very few and far between over the next weeks but I’m here, thinking, planning, writing in my head, but never sitting down to type. Maybe Christmas break??  [at some point I NEED to sit down and reflect on my races…]

For your reading pleasure though… I have found a few snippets of time this week to jot down some poetry. I think autumn does that to me.It’s very raw, rough poetry, but still words. 

 

Gardenia

I.

Two twenty-nine and ten random digits pop
up on the screen. She had padded
silently to the windowsill where her Gardenia budded
in the moonlight when the first few notes of
an old ringtone sang from the other room.
She had been praying for someone and so she answered.
You called.
After so long, you called.

II.

We sat and discussed where
I would be next fall. I planned to move
to Pittsburgh for writing, but he looked
at me; his eyes, deep sea green glass, looked at me.
“Can I ask you to stay?”
“Sure”
“Stay.”

III.

Time means nothing in our realm.
Four years adds up to one kiss.

So Simple. Here we are. Here and now, finally now.

 

 

My Life is Poetry

I stepped out of yoga class
into the quiet cool of an autumn day
wearing a white thermal ribbed shirt
and a metallic crimson toned,
safe feeling infused scarf.

I welcome the winter as
a moment sitting, drinking coffee reminds
me that each day passing is a day breathed;
A day lived. So I lift thanks to the Maker who brings
a smile through a steaming mug,

and the coolness which brings me you.

Another Finish

 

 

Wooo Hooo!!!  Another finish lined crossed.

I raced in the Chicagoland Danskin Triathlon today and had a blast!

It was another sprint distance, but a little longer – 850m swim, 12 mile bike, 5k run-and my overall time was 1 hour and 33minutes!  I’m am not as sore as last time, but completely exhausted… a four hour drive home will do that too you. I’ll be reflecting back later. But for now…here’s a glimpse. There’s no better feeling than finishing with a smile on your face.

“If you can train your mind for running, everything else will be easy”

-Amby Burfoot

CNF piece

Getting back to my old way of writing…

First grad essay to be works hoped, still untitled.

 

I feel the slam of my foot on the soil, the hard, hibernating ground my enemy as it reverberates back up through my leg: left foot pounds, earth hammering right back. Left hip sensing the shock, but right foot pounds anyway. I know the earth will hammer right back again as my right hip braces for that shock, the joint grinding, circling around in the socket. My feet pace the ground one…two…three…one…two…three, but it feels more to the rhythm of my heartbeat. One and…two and…three and…one and …two and …three and. I feel the pace start to pulse as my heart awakens and the first light breaks through the trees; my right leg rotates through my hip joint like a well oiled machine, but I feel it tremor as my leg kicks back. The whole body aware now of the pulsation thumping through my gait, but it fights and runs on. I do not count the pace anymore. My heart takes over.

I watch a hazy mist move over the morning, its white breath whispering the beginnings of autumn. Some would tell me to sleep the morning awake, but I pace on, my left foot meeting the ground in such a way that propels me to raise my right leg and let it, too, meet with the earth. The sun has chosen to rise today and illuminate the road upon which I run. The mist envelopes and leaves me, hinting at the colder weather that will soon arrive. I cannot tell if it is the tranquil feeling from the mist or the peace I gain as my body starts to soar into one movement, but I suddenly feel as if I am flying.

* * * * *

“And now ladies and gentlemen, the famous Caitlin Marie will perform her daring act of flips and turns on the high flying trapeze!” I announce to my crowd of witnesses—my puppy, a few butterflies, and my mother in the distance gardening. The thunderous applause dies down as I plant my feet and raise my arms in a V, preparing for take off.

I take a breath, swing my right arm down, and race towards the swing set. My tiny little body propels itself forward and just as I come up to the contraption, I stutter step to slow myself, grab the trapeze bar and swing forward flipping my legs up and over my center of balance curving them backwards between my head and the bar where I hook my knees over the top leaving my five year old self hanging upside down.

The next act is the grand finale:

I pull myself up to sit on the bar, swing my legs to gain momentum and as I’m moving through the air stand up on the bar bringing the crowd to a moment of awe. I hear the gasp in the crowd as I almost slip, but gain composure and lower myself back down, crouching, and finally releasing my feet to the dangerous free air. I somehow balance my chest on the bar and in a moment of shock, release my hands into superman position, only more outwardly like wings. The crowd takes a breath of silence and bursts into applause.

“The amazing Crazy Caitlin has done it again,” I hear my mother proclaim. She has stopped pruning the lilies to watch my silly acrobatics.

I flip over the bar and land on my feet. “Did you like it Mommy?” I ask running over to her.

“You were amazing my little trapeze artist.” She kisses me on the head and runs her fingers over my ear. I bobble my head because when she reaches the lobe, it tickles. Her laugh warms me while her words imprint themselves. “Someday you’ll have wings.”

* * * * *
But most striking were the things that arched up over her head, made of thin aluminum, cut with strong peaks at the top, sweeping curves at the bottom, lined with tiny bells, which made the chiming noise I was hearing. That we could all hear.
‘I don’t get it,’ Caroline said bemused. ‘She’s the only one with wings. Why is that?’
There were so many questions in life. You couldn’t ever have all the answers. But I knew this one.
‘It’s so she can fly,’ I said. And then I started to run.

I find that when I reach a rough spot in life, I always pick up The Truth About Forever. It’s a young adult book, teenage fiction, but I can see myself in my eighties walking through the back door after a cool, autumn run through piles of rustic, auburn leaves, grabbing a cup of coffee and my book, then forgoing all stretching just to pick up where I left off in Macy’s world.
Maybe I connect with her because I am a runner, too. Maybe I connect because I tried so hard, for so long, to be perfect, as she tries. Maybe I connect because I somehow never listen to my own advice like she does. Or maybe it’s because I understand that the first steps are always the hardest, but sometimes we get second chances. And that’s when we begin to run.

Unlike Macy, I have not yet had to deal with the grief of losing a parent, let alone someone who also stands in as a running partner and coach. But like everyone else, grief has found me. It often finds me. It often finds us all.
Death. Break-ups. Change. Just part of what shape Macy’s character. Just part of what shape me. How I long for those days of soaring on my trapeze, the butterflies my constant audience, my mother humming in the background while the lilies blossom. The wish for wings in the whispers of unruffled mornings before life found me.
But this time I picked up the novel. This one particular summer day, I found my wings before Macy had hers. I had just graduated college, fumbled through a series of messy relationships, and took another chance at running.

The first few steps were hard; it took me a second to catch my breath, but then I found my pace, and everything fell away, until there was nothing but me and what lay ahead, growing closer every second.
The one truth I know about forever is that it is happening. Now. Not in the innocent mornings of a five-year old dreamer. Not in the mistakes of a twenty year old girl. But in the heart of a twenty three year old woman, letting go.
And as the sun rises, the brevity of the mist is revealed in faith, saying Caitlin, wake up. I’ll give you a head start. Come on, you know the first few steps are the hardest part.

Beautiful Ending

I know… beautiful seems to be the adjective of my life right now, but it’s appropriate. I can’t find any other word that describes things so well these days.

I finished the race today!! And though I’m sore and exhausted, I feel wonderful. Here’s a glimpse… though it’s the finish, it’s really only the beginning.

After 1 hour and 21 minutes…

 

 

Oh, tragedy
Has taken so many
Love lost cause they all
Forgot who You were
And it scares me to think
That I would choose
My life over You
Oh, my selfish heart
Divides me from You
It tears us apart

So tell me
What is our ending?
Will it be beautiful
So beautiful?

Oh, why do I
Let myself let go
Of Hands that painted the stars
And holds tears that fall?
And the pride of my heart
Makes me forget
It's not me but You
Who makes the heart beat
I'm lost without You
And dying from me

So tell me
What is our ending?
Will it be beautiful
So beautiful?

Will my life
Find me by Your side?
Your love is beautiful
So beautiful

At the end of it all
I wanna be in Your arms
At the end of it all
I wanna be in Your arms
At the end of it all
I wanna be in Your arms
At the end of it all
I wanna be in Your arms

So tell me
What is our ending?
Will it be beautiful
So beautiful?
Will my life
Find me by Your side?
'Cause Your love is beautiful
So beautiful

-Beautiful Ending
BarlowGirl

Beautiful Paradox

Wow…. I officially finished my first week as a college teacher. What a crazy, wonderful week it has been. Tomorrow also marks a big day as it’s the Go Girl Triathlon!!! Finally! I am so nervous and excited all at once. But completely, 100% ready.

Tomorrow is a day of paradoxes. It’s an ending and a beginning for me. But what is so beautiful about it is how God has weaved the two together-how he has perfectly planned this day for me.

I’m keeping it short tonight, I must double check all of my gear and rest, but I promise I will post my race report and photos soon. And I WILL be back on track with writing.

May you all smile at the life you’ve been given today, in this moment.

“Being mortal, never pray for an untroubled life. Rather, ask God to give you an enduring heart.”

-Menander