The sin of pride has always been a tough one for me. Its hard to see why accomplishing something, and being proud of that fact, is a sin, and the particularities of that sin has always been... a little convoluted. Of course, I could understand that one could be prideful to the detriment of others, or maybe being so prideful that you become bloated on your own narcissism, or become prideful to the point of refusing much needed help, or even letting your sense of pride fill you to the point of forgetting to be grateful.
That being said, if I work hard at something and accomplish that goal, wether it be personal like weight loss or material like getting out of debt, I feel that it would be within my rights to feel proud of myself for accomplishing that.
But, something that happened yesterday made me realize that pride is a trap within a trap. Let me explain. Its always been a matter of pride to me to be the most non-judgmental person I could possibly be. I put alot of conscious effort into my thoughts and actions so that I respond to learning something about someone with compassion first, and love second. No matter how horrible that action could be. Maybe its because I (and so many others, really everyone Im sure at one point) have been on the receiving line of these remarks, and see it every day due to my size and other things as well. So I always make a consious effort to try to stop the initial reaction of giving my opinion on said thing, or rather aknowledging the judgment and letting it fall away. Ive told myself that I was real good at that, who else but the judged can be so non-judgemental?
Pride. Trap within a trap.
Recently there was a story that hit the news running, about a woman in China who flushed a baby in a sewer pipe. Talk about a nightmare. I was discussing this with my friend who is just a couple of weeks away from giving birth, and understandably so, she was very vociferous in her opinion of the event. And despite all that talk about being non judgmental, all that pride, my reaction was to not only agree with my friend, but add on some very negative comments of my own. Judging this woman who lives across the world from me, who I knew absolutely nothing about apart what the media told me. I fell into the trap.
What really brought it home, is after spending some bashing this woman yesterday, I read another article this morning explaining further the who what of that occurence (or at least whatever the media chose to reveal), which magically shows a completely different side of the story, and putting the woman in a very different situation. Guilt, shame, realization.
I am no better than the rest. I am just like the rest. Pride crumbles to ashes, and I feel... humbled. And that lesson was accomplished and driven home. I now have a different view of pride, and the sin accomplished in it. I think the sin originates from the seperation of our souls, this little island we create for ourselves, where we are the best and we did something or act in a way thats so wonderful theres no way anyone can reach us up here, forgetting all about the hands and shoulders we got a boost from on the way to the top. I think they key, for me anyways, lies in gratitude. Meaning instead of feeling puffed up about myself having accomplished this or that, if I turned instead towards being thankful, really and truly feeling and realizing the impact that the whole world has on me, that I could never be where I am/will be without my people, pride would fall away and reveal something even more beautiful underneath.
Proverbs 11:2 - ''When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.''
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Thursday, May 16, 2013
A mini bomb fell over our heads yesterday, a warning sign that I knew was coming straight at us. Except that I didn’t think it was going to hit J. He’s been experiencing heart pain lately, the kind where you feel like your heart is constricting. As if that wasn’t scary enough, he was always tired and sleeping everywhere. I though, diabetes, for sure. Brought on with the fact that diabetes is very present in the First Nations community, and that Jeff loves everything sugar, I thought, this is it, what we’ve been waiting for. I mean, let’s be honest here, were both overweight, not exercising enough, and even though the food we eat has tremendously improved in the last year or so, there is still vast grounds for improvement.
But it wasn’t diabetes. It was high blood pressure. My husband had 160/120 bp, and now needs to go get some blood and stress tests done. Did I mention he’s 23? This is scary. As. Fuck. I’ve been reading up on what it means to have those numbers, and I’m honestly terrified. I mean out of the two of us, I’m much bigger and less in shape than he is, so why did he have that, instead of me? Life is stressful in general, but obviously he’s been feeling it more, and I’ve had a part to play in it as well, I’m not the most relaxing person to have around, sometimes. I feel very guilty, guilty for the stress that I may have caused, guilty for not forcing him/us to eat better, guilty for not putting my husband and my own health as a priority.
So before we know the results of those tests, we know how to help our situation. We need to watch the sodium levels of everything we intake, drink more water and less everything else, and exercise. This is like a major, nasty, brutal wake up call for me. My doctor’s always been honest and upfront, and straight up told me that if I didn’t change my ways, I’d be heading straight for blood and/or heart disease. I acknowledge that fact, and I also acknowledge that it didn’t scare me very much. My twisted lazy logic told me that I was already sick, and quite honestly, I’ve always been a bit on the extreme side of the live-for-the-moment movement, but that’s another story. But this, THIS, is different. This isn’t me, I can’t suffer through this in silent, this is J. Never in my craziest day-mares did I imagine him getting sick with anything more than what I have, and I can’t let this slide anymore. This being our lifestyle. Thank God, I have my sister Cat who just graduated her CEGEP in nutrition and heading to McGill to help us out with our food, and my older sister Amanda who is a nurse to help us out with what we can do NOW, and what all those medical references mean. Thank God for family.
This is our wake up call. This is what we knew was going to happen, but never really fully understood its consequences. We can’t play around with this, with our health anymore. Time has run out, and we need to get a move on. If you know anything about HBP, lived through a similar situation, or have any tips that could help us, please don’t hesitate to comment and let me know! And for anyone up in God’s corner, remember us in your prayers please, were going to need all the help and courage we can get!
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
I love my mother to the ends of the earth and back again. The shit this woman has gone through (and still goes through) for me and for everyone around her is truly mind blowing. That she can still stand straight and laugh it all off is quite humbling. I dont even have the words to express what my mother means to me, what shes done for me, and what she represent to me. I can say, without a doubt in my heart, that if/when I have children, if by the grace of God, I can be even half the woman she is, then I will surely get an award for the best damn mother there could possibly be.
Merci maman, pour tout.