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Showing posts from June, 2007

LEAP graduate

We are all lepers now, quipped Jing. Yeah. We've leapt! I said I'd write about whatever realization I'd come across during our weekend graduation. There was nothing profound. Everything was startlingly simple. I went home with a song in my heart. I will never be the same again. ;)

The final LEAP

I am graduating LEAP this weekend. I'm 100%, I guess, but I don't feel it. Or maybe it's really just me, not knowing how to celebrate my own victories? I'll be back Sunday night. Will have some realization again by then. See you all! Or, as my French students say, "Ciao, ciao!"

The difference now

What a difference a single shift makes. Coming from my realization last Saturday, I decided to not run away from him, to not fight whatever I'm feeling, but to embrace it. All it really says about me is that I'm a person capable of unconditional love. And how can that be bad? My LEAP declaration anyway is, "I'm a shining reflection of God's love." That single shift in my own perspective has already started some changes. Yesterday, he surprised me by sending many texts, which has never happened in the five years I've known him, the cheapskate that he was. Before it would just be one text now, and another one weeks later. This time, we were able to hold some sort of discussion, talking about things I'd wanted to ask him when I was trying to call him to slay the dragon that was keeping me from moving on. I got several answers. He said he still loves me, would love me always, would never love another. But he wants me to move forward; he doesn'

Dragon alert

I heard from him again. We'd been texting--120 characters every month or so, and I could handle that. This time, he emailed. It was a long one, considering. I'd wanted to call and he had avoided me, and he sent me email to explain. Yesterday was horrible; I suddenly had a headache. I felt a down slide, like every good thing I'd been building was starting to show cracks. To cheer myself up, I went to a neighborhood salon because it closed late. I got a pedicure; I asked about relaxing. The manager was rude; he said from the couch that I couldn't get a "relax" because my hair was "damaged." He just took one quick glance at my dry hair, assumed I'd been having it straightened and all without even touching it, and announced to the whole room it was damaged. I was rude back. He didn't speak well: he ate his words and spoke like his tongue was too short. My dark side--the snotty one that puts people down--pounced. I was able to control my wor