Diana Reader

On Sunday I went to church.  Normally this wouldn't be strange but it's been awhile for me, for a multitude of reasons that sum up to be no more than monumental excuses.  It was a small sanctuary, quilts littering the sea of white.  It was comforting, though I had a feeling this wasn't quite the fit for me. The service started and hymns were sung, readings were read, and prayers were prayed.  The deeper I got into the service, the more I had to continually bring my focus back into reality.  My mind kept wandering to so many other things, and it wasn't until half way through the sermon did I realize just how distracted I had become.  It hit me like a ton of bricks--the vines of my stresses, worries, and distractions had crawled up around me and fought for my attention.  The worship song began, and suddenly I had never felt so small.  Diminutive.  Microscopic.  Infinitesimal.  At that moment I felt the lilliputian role I played in...

To wrap up my first year of DPT school, I am going to give you some quotes that have happened in the last couple weeks. Krista looking through her calendar intently before class: Me: "What are you doing?" Krista: "I'm just trying to orient myself to the day and month, to be honest." Learning about the unit Dalton in reference to the phoresable definition, Krista leans over to me and whispers: "I dated a guy named Dalton.  His mom was a biologist. *Dramatic pause*  She did that on purpose." During the 7k race talking about pheromones and discussing how attraction can be based on these scents, we get on the topic of a certain person and Brianna says: "Ugh, he probably smells like freakin roses." Talking about what attracts us (post 7k race) while drinking a free beer we were given, naturally I say something related to the current situation: Me: "I like to smell people when they drink." Brianna: "What?!" Me: ...

I think we all need times in our life where we reflect on the things that make us *us*.  I've always enjoyed reading other people's "about me" lists, however quirky or serious they are, and I thought I'd be a bit therapeutic to reflect on the things that make me, well, me.  Self awareness, in the truest form, is one of the most powerful healing mechanisms for discovering the sunshine that has lived inside yourself all along.  So read this if you choose, and then write one yourself, if you desire.  I know I'd love to read it. Orange is my favorite color.  Always has been, always will be.  Once I choose something, I stick with it.  This may seem silly when referring to a favorite color, but I like to think it applies to life as well. I have a fear of being cold, mostly because it reminds me of high school when my lips and arms were in a constant state of purplish-blue.  You've never truly experienced cold until your bones ache and you start to ...

Why have I been a Christian for 25 years and still not know what that means? Why does everyone seem so solid in their understanding and I'm floating around like, "Yeah, your version makes sense too..." Why does everyone tell me the answer comes when you seek it, but I'm not good at hide-and-seek? Why do I have so many questions? If you've ever had one of those this-is-too-much-to-handle moments, you might understand that there are times when you're on your knees exhausted, angry, and surrendered, wondering if this is rock bottom.  I've only had two of those moments in my life, one when I was younger, and one in the shower covered with leftover glitter but feeling anything but sparkle. I rarely talk aloud when I pray, but today was different.  I was verbally, brutally honest with God, something that a normal person might think to be strange but the anger came surprisingly easy and burned like a pile of wood soaked in gasoline.  It only took one li...

I've learned a fair few bit of information since January; here's just a little taste of my random life lessons: 1. I learned there is such thing as scented toilet paper...is this what I've been missing by not living in the city?  (By the way, my bathroom currently smells like a lavender field.) 2. I learned that I feel like Cinderella every time I take out the trash--except the rats and pigeons scurrying around the dumpsters have yet to sing with me, or make me a dress. 3.  I learned that when you tell your friends you're going to be an adult and stop wearing only leggings/athletic gear, wearing scrubs the next day is (apparently) not an improvement. 4. I learned that my geekiness hit a new level, as my idea of an exciting Monday is having "trivia time" in neuro lab: when you take turns with your two lab partners pointing out structures and trying to beat each other in naming them first.  It's an insane adrenaline rush (which, by the way, is caused...

I know it's past Christmas, and dreams of winter wonderlands and holiday medleys are a whisper of the past, but I often think of the misfit toys from the Rudolph story, knowing yet another season has come and past and they are left with many months before they can begin to hope again for rescue. This is not the island I am going to discuss tonight, this is not the misfit I want to address. It's a strange feeling, being on your own hypothetical island, realizing that even the misfit toys had unity in knowing they were all misfits together.  It's a strange moment when you self reflect and realize there's no place like that for you.  The sweet one in a kettle of tea, the rebellious one in a group of ascetics.  It's like balancing on a four way fence...you could jump in different directions, land in different areas, but none of them would fully be you.  As much as you wish there was a place, a category you could find comfort in, none is to be found. Whether in con...

Dear Emily You taught me that reaching for external validation will always leave you empty and broken.  You challenged my thoughts, you questioned my beliefs.  You gave me the blessing to nourish without guilt.  You showed me that taking care of myself wasn't selfish.  You showed me what to look for in life, and you showed me that I'm already there. You taught me that vulnerability is beautiful. You allowed me to reach for goals but taught me that they do not define me.  In fact, you taught me that no one defines me.  You let me see that the world wouldn't shake if I didn't achieve perfection.  You gave me the freedom to seek life without constant belittlement.  You reminded me that we are all beautifully made, and when I rolled my eyes and pointed out your genericism, you pointed out my cynicism. You reminded me that we were meant for freedom. You taught me that people who need you are all around and everything I have discovered throug...