The Eve Theory
"The best day of your life is the one on which you decide your life is your own. No apologies or excuses. No one to lean on, rely on, or blame. The gift is yours - it is an amazing journey - and you alone are responsible for the quality of it. This is the day your life really begins." ~Bob Moawad
I have this theory that has served me well in the toughest of times. I believe that God created Adam and Eve and that we are all decendents from them. In the story it goes that God created Adam in His image and then put Adam to sleep to remove a rib and created Eve from the rib. I have alot of theories that start at this belief, but the one I've been leaning on alot lately is that Eve was created whole. Here is my thought. Adam is missing a rib, but Eve has all her parts in tact. This is the crucial part for me: I have everything I need to survive and thrive, within myself.
Whenever my life is out of balance. A deployment, a new place, a new child, a change of jobs, a loss of a loved one, I have leaned on my theory of being complete to get through. This has been important for me in many ways. By knowing that I have the tools I need, I don't look to other places to pull myself up. This doesn't mean that I don't need friends or family, it means that I have to start first within to get balanced. At times when I'm discouraged or afraid, I step out in faith that I will make it through.
I've started many a fix it project in my house with a prayer and a hammer or screwdriver hoping that I will find the skills or resources to guide me through what has to be done. To this day, I have not messed up something further that needed to be fixed and I've only had to call in help from professionals a few times. More times than I can remember, my college roommates, my family and my husband have come home amazed at what I've accomplished. They even called me Carlos in college because they thought I was the fix it guru.
I'm no guru. I'm probably a little crazy. Mostly, I replace doubt with belief and strength and perserverence and I move on.
Two days after Vic and I were married, we returned to Fort Rucker, Alabama for our "Not Honeymoon". Vic was in flight school and didn't have time to take off for a honeymoon, which has worked to my advantage because I keep getting great trips out of the guilt from that fact. "Well, you know we never had a honeymoon......" and then I can plan another trip.
They had a little program called Spouse Air Assault School, which happened to fall on the Monday after my wedding. I signed up to learn a little bit about what Vic went through when he went to and graduated from Air Assault School. Air Assault is when you descend from a helicopter on a rope at a very quick rate of speed. The school is notoriously hard, and known for it's very long road march. Spouse Air Assault School wasn't supposed to be that rigorous.
We met early in the morning, July 6th to be exact, in a school house building. There we were given our black Air Assault shirts and told about the day. We were ushered outside to pick up a helmet, they were freshly rinsed and the chin straps were soggy and smelled like mold. I immediately started to question the rest of the day. We were lined up and formed up and marched ( with drill sergent and cadence and everything) down the road to the obstacle course. It wasn't 9am in the morning and it was already over 95 degrees outside. As we were marching, Vic drove by to see how things were going. I can still see in my minds eye the smile on his face as he saw me marching with the helmet on. We went through the obstacle course, designed to scare the living daylights out of you, I'm sure. We crawled under wire through leaves ( and were told that they shoot blanks over the Soldiers when the school is in session), we climbed up something and climbed over something and then we arrived at the tower. The tower is a wooden contraption that you repel off of that simulates the repel out of a helicopter. It is 38 ft high, which is supposed to be the height that people get scared at. Something about 38ft that makes you question whether stepping off with just a rope is a smart thing. They are right. Something funny happens at 38ft.
We put our swiss seats on ( ropes that go around your legs and through your crotch and you connect yourself to the rope with) and were instructed on how to repel off of the tower. We then herded to the top of the tower where SSG Jackson ( I swear that was his name) asked us who was going to go first. As it turns out, I was near the front of the herd and I was seriously questioning whether I was going to stay up there or run down the tower the stair way. I looked at the wives around me, who were equally scared and I raised my hand to go first. I didn't want to go first because I was brave. I didn't feel then that I was a natural born leader. I knew that if I stood there and watched someone go over the edge of the tower I may just pass out or start crying or something. SSG Jackson directed me to the edge of the tower. ( No railings people) He helped me hook up the rope in the swiss seat and then told me to turn around and put my back toward the edge. I was to step one foot at a time to the edge, then off the side of the tower. As you step over the edge you form an L with your legs and your body planting your legs on the side of the tower. He said "Keep looking right at me, Lindenmeyer". ( He knew my new last name because it was written in tape on my shirt) Three steps down the side of the tower and I was told to bound away. This meant to simultaneously push my feet from the tower, and slide my hands out so the rope that was holding me from imminent danger would slide through my swiss seat contraption. I got part of it right. I pushed my feet away from the tower. My hands were going nowhere. When my feet came back to the tower they slipped and I found myself, flat, face into the side of the wood. At this point, SSG Jackson yelled, "Find your feet, Lindenmeyer". I planted my toes into the wood and wiggled them up back to the L position. I slowly made it down and found the strength to bound away properly with only 12 inches between me and the ground. When I made it to the ground, the rest of the herd cheered madly. I walked to the nearby bleachers, got water, sat down and cried like a baby. I spent the rest of the time watching as the ladies all made it down the tower. One by one, they joined me on the bleachers. Each of us was scared, maybe even terrified, but each of us made it down that tower.
That day at Air Assault School reminds me what I can do when I believe in myself. I have no idea what challenges lie ahead of me, I do know that my tool belt is full, my resources are plenty and , thanks to God, I've been created whole. The rest is up to me.
I have this theory that has served me well in the toughest of times. I believe that God created Adam and Eve and that we are all decendents from them. In the story it goes that God created Adam in His image and then put Adam to sleep to remove a rib and created Eve from the rib. I have alot of theories that start at this belief, but the one I've been leaning on alot lately is that Eve was created whole. Here is my thought. Adam is missing a rib, but Eve has all her parts in tact. This is the crucial part for me: I have everything I need to survive and thrive, within myself.
Whenever my life is out of balance. A deployment, a new place, a new child, a change of jobs, a loss of a loved one, I have leaned on my theory of being complete to get through. This has been important for me in many ways. By knowing that I have the tools I need, I don't look to other places to pull myself up. This doesn't mean that I don't need friends or family, it means that I have to start first within to get balanced. At times when I'm discouraged or afraid, I step out in faith that I will make it through.
I've started many a fix it project in my house with a prayer and a hammer or screwdriver hoping that I will find the skills or resources to guide me through what has to be done. To this day, I have not messed up something further that needed to be fixed and I've only had to call in help from professionals a few times. More times than I can remember, my college roommates, my family and my husband have come home amazed at what I've accomplished. They even called me Carlos in college because they thought I was the fix it guru.
I'm no guru. I'm probably a little crazy. Mostly, I replace doubt with belief and strength and perserverence and I move on.
Two days after Vic and I were married, we returned to Fort Rucker, Alabama for our "Not Honeymoon". Vic was in flight school and didn't have time to take off for a honeymoon, which has worked to my advantage because I keep getting great trips out of the guilt from that fact. "Well, you know we never had a honeymoon......" and then I can plan another trip.
They had a little program called Spouse Air Assault School, which happened to fall on the Monday after my wedding. I signed up to learn a little bit about what Vic went through when he went to and graduated from Air Assault School. Air Assault is when you descend from a helicopter on a rope at a very quick rate of speed. The school is notoriously hard, and known for it's very long road march. Spouse Air Assault School wasn't supposed to be that rigorous.
We met early in the morning, July 6th to be exact, in a school house building. There we were given our black Air Assault shirts and told about the day. We were ushered outside to pick up a helmet, they were freshly rinsed and the chin straps were soggy and smelled like mold. I immediately started to question the rest of the day. We were lined up and formed up and marched ( with drill sergent and cadence and everything) down the road to the obstacle course. It wasn't 9am in the morning and it was already over 95 degrees outside. As we were marching, Vic drove by to see how things were going. I can still see in my minds eye the smile on his face as he saw me marching with the helmet on. We went through the obstacle course, designed to scare the living daylights out of you, I'm sure. We crawled under wire through leaves ( and were told that they shoot blanks over the Soldiers when the school is in session), we climbed up something and climbed over something and then we arrived at the tower. The tower is a wooden contraption that you repel off of that simulates the repel out of a helicopter. It is 38 ft high, which is supposed to be the height that people get scared at. Something about 38ft that makes you question whether stepping off with just a rope is a smart thing. They are right. Something funny happens at 38ft.
We put our swiss seats on ( ropes that go around your legs and through your crotch and you connect yourself to the rope with) and were instructed on how to repel off of the tower. We then herded to the top of the tower where SSG Jackson ( I swear that was his name) asked us who was going to go first. As it turns out, I was near the front of the herd and I was seriously questioning whether I was going to stay up there or run down the tower the stair way. I looked at the wives around me, who were equally scared and I raised my hand to go first. I didn't want to go first because I was brave. I didn't feel then that I was a natural born leader. I knew that if I stood there and watched someone go over the edge of the tower I may just pass out or start crying or something. SSG Jackson directed me to the edge of the tower. ( No railings people) He helped me hook up the rope in the swiss seat and then told me to turn around and put my back toward the edge. I was to step one foot at a time to the edge, then off the side of the tower. As you step over the edge you form an L with your legs and your body planting your legs on the side of the tower. He said "Keep looking right at me, Lindenmeyer". ( He knew my new last name because it was written in tape on my shirt) Three steps down the side of the tower and I was told to bound away. This meant to simultaneously push my feet from the tower, and slide my hands out so the rope that was holding me from imminent danger would slide through my swiss seat contraption. I got part of it right. I pushed my feet away from the tower. My hands were going nowhere. When my feet came back to the tower they slipped and I found myself, flat, face into the side of the wood. At this point, SSG Jackson yelled, "Find your feet, Lindenmeyer". I planted my toes into the wood and wiggled them up back to the L position. I slowly made it down and found the strength to bound away properly with only 12 inches between me and the ground. When I made it to the ground, the rest of the herd cheered madly. I walked to the nearby bleachers, got water, sat down and cried like a baby. I spent the rest of the time watching as the ladies all made it down the tower. One by one, they joined me on the bleachers. Each of us was scared, maybe even terrified, but each of us made it down that tower.
That day at Air Assault School reminds me what I can do when I believe in myself. I have no idea what challenges lie ahead of me, I do know that my tool belt is full, my resources are plenty and , thanks to God, I've been created whole. The rest is up to me.
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