Is Construction Ever Complete?

I’m trying my hand at writing this blog post with Windows Live Writer, thanks to Rage Against the Minivan. Here’s to hoping that nothing explodes in the process.

Not too long ago, I wrote a post about getting old and one of my friends left me a comment that I agreed with whole-heartedly:

“I'm totally from the If It Ain't Broke Don't Fix It school of thought.”

And I thought to myself, “As am I, Amy. As am I.”

Turns out that I might be wrong. Don’t tell my wife.

Here’s the evidence. You be the jury:

Exhibit A:
My aching desire to “update” Life Before the Bucket, whether that’s through a new layout or a new domain name. I’d like to think it’s “broken”, because I'd always like more people to be reading, but in reality, everything is fine and dandy around here. And if it weren’t, I suspect that you might tell me.

Exhibit B:
My compulsive desire to perfect my father-in-law’s website for his new business, New Hope Therapy. As far as I can tell, everything seems to be in tip-top shape over there. However, I always feel like there’s something more that can be done. A little something to be improved. And trust me, I’m open to any opinions or questions you might have about that site.

Exhibit C:
Only because I was made to tell the “whole truth and nothing but the truth.” Oh, wait… I wasn’t? I guess I’ll confess my sin to you anyway: I’m a compulsive hair checker. 

As far as I can tell, my hair serves something like two purposes. Purpose A was to aid in wooing my wife. Check. And Purpose B is, I think, just to fall out, because even my dad was mostly bald by the time he passed away.

For some reason, I still compulsively check it. I even just touched it as I typed it, and I do this because I get nervous that some hair might be out of place or I might be sporting a nice cow-lick without anyone telling me. Even though my hair is serving its purpose, I always want to make it better.

So what’s your verdict? Still believe that I’m old-school in that I don’t want to fix things that aren’t broken? Because lately, my mind has been changed. If I'm capable of improving something that could work better and I don’t, it might as well be broken.

I’m still torn on the issue at times, especially when it comes to road construction, but that’s another rant for another day…

Question: Do you think it is a positive thing to always be striving for improvement? Or do you think that we often lack the ability to be content with what we have? Should we be? Which is the lesser of two evils, or the better of two good?

Joy

Learned a new formula today: a spoon of pumpkin + a Pumpkin Spice K-Cup = pumpkin pie coffee. Great discovery, indeed.

Joy is confusing, really.

Few of us really understand it, myself included. Is it happiness? Why don't we just call it that?

Or is it something deeper? Something less circumstantial. Something more fulfilling, less fleeting. Joy seems to be elusive for most, and yet, it is evident when it is present in others.

So what is it? Where does it come from?

In my mind, joy is a derivative of hope. Without hope, you cannot have joy. And sure, hope might seem circumstantial, but not true hope. If you have true hope within you, it never disappears. It isn't contingent on whether or not you pass a class, get a certain degree, or find a certain job. It doesn't need people to like you or to support you, and it doesn't need you to be successful or famous.

Indeed, joy is hard to come by, because true hope is hard to come by. It seems elusive. It appears fleeting.

Where is your hope? And is it true? Or is it merely a shadow of what could be? Do you find your hope waning with your bank account? Or is it dependent on something that never changes.

Think. Reflect. Wonder. If only for 5 minutes, consider whether your hope is true. Then you will see why your joy fades. Why it only seems like happiness, veiled by a mask of something greater.

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These are my Five Minute thoughts, unedited, unadulterated, unprepared, for this Friday. Check out The Gypsy Mama if you want to know more!

Digging through the Bucket: Who Are You?

Alright, ladies and gentlemen, Bucketeers of all ages. This post is for you. I found it while going over some old posts and was surprised at what I learned last time I did this, so here I am again. If you answered these questions last time around, feel free just to give me a brief update on where life is taking you right now! Enjoy!

I've got a question for you:

Do you like questions?

If you don't, I apologize for asking.

If you do, then this is the blog post for you!

Here's the dealio: I really want to get to know you guys. I want an idea of who my faithful Bucketeers are and what they're like. Right now, I sort of feel like I've been shoved on a stage that is illuminated by blinding lights, and I don't recognize a single person in the crowd. It's kind of sad, really.

In order to get to know you a little better, I just have a few questions for you. And because I would never ask you to do something I wouldn't, I'll answer them for you as well.

Q is for Quirks

This post is part of my weekly Time for Honesty. I do my best to share something that's on my heart that is honest, sincere, and transparent - something that will get you thinking and get you to be honest with yourself.

I love being introspective and taking a look at what's going on inside my heart. Heck, I even enjoy bearing those things to the world for all to see on days like this, when I'm trying to be a little more honest with myself and others.

I think I definitely did that yesterday, though.

So instead of being introspective, I want to be... Well, some other word ending in "spective" that probably doesn't exist.

In order to be a little more honest with you and with myself, I don't want to bear my heart. I want to bear a few quirky pieces of who I am. As in, if you were my wife, these are the things you'd probably make fun of me for.

A Longing for Fatherhood

Keurig status update: currently in Topeka, 45 minutes away. Wish they would just let me pick it up!

A couple of weeks ago, I had the privilege of spending time with someone I care about very deeply.

I can't tell you her name, because it's complicated, but I can tell you about her (and I've been dying to do that).

This girl, she's about 5 years old. She's beautiful. She is usually high on energy and loves to talk. She loves playing, climbing trees, and putting together puzzles. In fact, she might even end up being smarter than me.

This girl isn't able to receive love from her parents on a regular basis. They don't have that right anymore. But she has her grandparents, and they love her well enough. They just weren't expecting to go through the parenting motions at this point in their lives.

Last time we visited this girl, we wanted to take her home with us. To let her know that she's loved. To prove to her that she has a home.

Instead (because kidnapping is frowned upon around here), we settled for having lunch with her, playing games, putting together a puzzle, and climbing trees.