one small act = big results

I recently had an experience that changed the perspective of my life. I wasn't expecting it. I even almost missed the meaning of what happened. However,  I do believe that Holy Spirit nudged me in the right direction at the right time and I for sure was in the right place.
I had just clocked out from work and was getting ready to leave when I had the thought of going to the library, which was a good idea because I would be able to get some computer work done.
I was there for maybe a half hour  when I heard from across the room a librarian talking to a patron  about papers that he printed out. For some reason he didn't have a way to pay for them. Either he expected to pay with a credit card,  which they don't accept, or he neglected to understand that there was a fee. The latter is more unlikely due to the automated notice about fees that pops up on the computer screen when you print anything. That's neither here nor there.
I listened to them for a while,  both at an impass. The librarian trying to get the fee and yet still offer help to hold the papers for the patron. The patron didn't want to do that because the papers had personal information on them. They were stagnated. Without thinking I left my chair and walked over to the librarian's desk. I handed the fee,  which was only pocket change,  to the librarian without looking at the person more than a simple  acknowledgment of his thank you.
I went back and sat down and couldn't focus for a long while. What made me do that? I didn't know that guy. How was it that I heard the conversation between the man and librarian from across the room? I wondered what it was that impacted me so much about this interaction?
I'm just your average single 30 year old,  muddling through life the best I can. I was surprised that I had the nerve to approach the two of them because I suffer from social anxiety and PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). Engaging with others take more courage than I usually have on a day to day basis.
Then it hit me, the last few years in dealing with my health issues and being dependent on other's services, I had forgotten what it felt like to fill a need. Or be helpful, or simply to acknowledge someone else's problems instead of focusing on my own. You see, I have had to focus so much on taking care of myself, that I forgot what it was like to feel in a single moment,  needed. In the simple transaction of involving myself in someone else's problems, mine seemed a little less overpowering. I not only helped someone to be able to do what they needed to do,  but I helped myself to realize that no matter how small the action,  anyone can make a difference.

heartbreak

My heart is heavy this morning. It beats slowly and I'm left breathing hard. It isn't the verge of a panic attack. It isn't the verge of illness. It simply is the result of a heart that's breaking slowly every day.
I don't have tears yet. I don't have the words completely. But I have the pain and sadness that comes with a broken heart.
It's been two years since my world was turned upside down when a certain person walked into my heart. Two years of silence and confusion as the relationship deteriorated. Two years of wondering why and never having the answer. Just a lot of speculation. And that doesn't help.
Two years since that certain person told me they loved  me. Two years of wondering if it was real. I suppose I'll never know now since it has been two years since that certain person has spoken to me.
What makes a person think they have the right to hurt another so deeply? What gives them the right to lie about something so sacred, only to toss it away like rubbish. That person has no idea how much they hurt me when they walked away from our relationship. They don't know how many times I have cried over something I thought was real only it wasn't. They don't know how much I struggle with regret and happiness over things that happened between us. How I wonder if they are hurting just as much. They don't know how often I pray for them,  that they would experience peace and forgiveness,  as I ask for those things too. They have no idea how many times I tell myself that I'll never know why or ever talk to them again. Or how much I miss laughing together. I keep reminding myself that just as I have lost in the relationship,  they have lost as well, even if it were by their choice. They don't know the shame and dissapoinment of knowing that I loved someone who has chosen to not love me in return. They don't know how I wonder if I'll ever be able to love again after this. They don't realize the cost of my giving the most precious thing I have to give,  only to have it taken and used without a loving thought.
But there is always the other side. Their side. I don't know what that looks like. I can't read their minds or guess. The only reality is that for a brief moment in our lives,  we loved. And then it was gone,  abandoned until I'm only left with memories and emotions.

change

"Change is a hard thing, and you've been fighting it a long time. You won't be happy until you give your soul what it needs. The journey has to start somewhere. "
Gladys to Mina in The Stranger's Obituary

I don't do well with change. Most people don't. I'm no exception. When somethings changes in my life I'm more likely to withdraw from people or to freak out emotionally. It's not easy being me. But I wouldn't have it any other way.
The fear of change is really the fear of losing control. Not being able to predict what will happen. Not being able to bring about what you want to happen. Change has a way of sneaking in and saying, "boo!". Not fair, right?
There are millions of ways that change affects our lives. We change our clothes, jobs, hobbies etc. The more we try to have control even thru some on else, the more we lose.
It isn't the changes that matter, but the way we react to them that does.

laundry day

I never liked doing laundry as a kid. It wasn't so much the washing and drying, but it was the folding that got to me.  I wasn't good at it. What I folded always turned out wrinkled and crooked no matter how much Mom showed me how to fold them. Finally I was delegated the sock matcher and was given the duty of finding missing socks as well. I loved it. Finding socks was like a scavenger hunt,  usually not being fruitful as our socks mysteriously disappeared constantly. I made match socks into a game. I got pretty good at folding socks. To this day I do enjoy folding them.
Today I have 6 loads of laundry to do at the laundromat. Six,  because I've been putting it off for a few weeks now. But the time has come to grit my teeth and just do it.
The loads are currently washing and I'm sitting in at Joe's Diner drinking coffee while I wait. I find that even though I don't like doing laundry, I don't mind the wait between the time to switch them to the dryer. 
I'm reminded that most times the best things are worth waiting for. In this case,  at the end,  I will have clean bedding and clothes. That's worth waiting for.

a collision: when the past meets the present

This past Sunday, and on any given Sunday I go after church to my favorite diner, Not Your Average Joe's. It's a great family diner and the food there is amazing. Plus I get my favorite table almost every time. The waitresses there are wonderfully nice and in such a short period of time, learned my drink preferences and usually stop to chat a while when the diner is slow. I like going there to relax and work on art Journaling or whatever I choose to bring.  They don't mind me bringing in my art stuff. It's  been quite a habit with me.
The diner closes at 3pm on Sundays so I have a small window to work on anything. But it's worth it to get out in the public,  which is a huge anxiety trigger for me, but I still love to people watch. 
Well, I was sitting at my table where I can see the whole diner and I noticed two ladies walking in and sitting down a few tables away.  I did a double-take thinking I recognized one of the ladies.  I dismissed it though because I wasn't sure.  A few minutes later I noticed the lady's voice. She has a distinct nasal twang in her speech and I recognized it right away as the lady I thought she might be.  To be honest, out of social anxiety I sat there thinking,  "Please don't recognize me. Please don't remember me." Of course, my chanting didn't work and just as I looked over there our eyes met. So I decided that when I leave or when they leave I would go over and say hello. I went on with what I was doing, which was Smashbooking. 
It got closer to 3pm so I got up to use the restroom and pay before stopping to chat. The lady stopped me as I passed her and she invited me to sit with them. I went to the bathroom and then paid before I went back and reluctantly sat down.
Now the hesitancy on my part had nothing to do with the lady herself, but with knowing that in that moment, my past collided with my present. It's a humbling experience. I enjoyed chatting with her and her mom about my internship and time at college.
However, I couldn't help thinking that the Kayla they knew and were talking about seemed like a whole different person. Like it really wasn't me they were reminiscent about. I wonder what happened to that girl? I wondered at the differences between past me and present me. What changed? What stayed the same?
While I was talking to the two ladies,  I felt ashamed. Ashamed of the reality that I changed.  Why shame? I should be happy that I changed,  especially if it were for the better. I felt shame that the two ladies think I am someone I no longer am or could no longer be.
I can no longer be that naive, gentle, innocent girl that I was in college. I can never undo the damage done by wrong choices or circumstances out of my control. But most of all, I am not that young girl with big dreams. Because those dreams turned out to be someone else's dreams pushed on to me. Growing up is hard.  When you are a kid,  you are taught certain things by your parents. Hopefully you have decent parents and they raise you right.  In my case,  my mother was one who tried to raise me right but ended up pushing her desires onto me until I thought they were my own. She set my life up for what she wanted me to be and it wasn't until I went to college that I realized I was living a lie in pursuing what I thought were my dreams.
That's what I mean by not being able to go back and be that girl. I can no longer be someone I'm not than a leopard can change it's spots.
That leaves me with accepting who I have become today. And I am ok with that. So when I was sitting with the two ladies,  I recognized that the Kayla they knew no longer exists. She is in the past. And it's ok.
I didn't open up to the two ladies about this revelation because I didn't want them to feel bad that they didn't know me as well as they thought. I just was myself and hoped that they would see the new Kayla as she is and accept her just the same.
I think anyone else would want it to be the same way.