A Pain in the Ass

When I set my mind to something it usually happens. But try as I might I can do nothing about the fact that the day of my birth is in December, between the biggies of Christmas and New Years. Take that up with my Mom and Dad.

It has presented challenges over the years. I've been known to say I hate my birthday. Why? Because it seems I'm always apologizing for it. Here's how it usually goes-'Oh! It *is* your birthday!' (in a puzzled tone as if to suggest they aren't quite sure what to do about it)
Occasionally people will nail the problem-saying 'We just did Christmas...'
Why yes, that has been the case for every birthday I have ever had.

Yes it is a pain in the proverbial ass. And to be honest not a lot of fun any way you look at it. Usually I just try to get through it with as little fuss as possible. There have a couple of people in my life to whom I've never had to apologize for being born. My Mom always made my day special for me. My Grandma too, with her homemade chocolate cake.

I'm likely as grown up as I can ever expect to be. Despite this alleged maturity, I'll admit that it still hurts to have the day of my birth be an after thought and an inconvenience. On the bright side, like any other day, it will blessedly be only 24 hours long.

Bear Necessities

I'm trying to give myself a pep talk about the holidays. Part of my problem with them is the time of year. Winter and I do not have the best relationship. My depression gets worse. I want to stay in and be lethargic. Under blankets if possible.
Not saying this is a bad thing once and awhile but unless one is a bear hibernation until the spring isn't practical.
So getting through is my next option. I remember telling my older son to enjoy all the aspects of Christmas not just the gifts. That this would give him more to enjoy and make him happier.
I try to do this as well. The lights, music, food and additional socializing are fun for me.
Still, Christmas when your children are grown is a different kind of Christmas. Christmas after and during issues with your spouse is different. I no longer have living parents or in laws.
And thoughts of them are bittersweet.
Shopping is stressful so sometimes I dump more on the spouse then I should. He is very gracious about it. I like to cook but putting together holiday meals involves a lot of planning and work pretty much at the time of year I want to do it least.
This year I have an important person to include in my holiday plans. Someone I don't want to disappoint or let down in any way. Feeling very stressed about that.
I know that my best will have to be good enough. But my best this time of year is getting worse.
And then, next up, my birthday.

SACL

The stress is getting to me. I feel sad and alone. Confused and lost.

'You May Say That I'm A Dreamer'

I don't know why you've chosen to read these words. What's going through your mind, your life, your world. I can only imagine. And I do. I wonder about you more than you might think.
And so much more.
I have been given a blessing that is a paradox. At once being infinitely individual, private and sought after, yet being shared and possessed by all of humanity. Every single one of us.
I share it in the words of this blog, in poetry and in particular my artwork. As much as I may share there is so much more that I do not and neither do you. This treasure is my imagination. I believe that my imagination is as one with my dreams and soul.
And that is why I say that no matter how much I share, voluntarily or otherwise, I would never be able to share all. Because my imagination is unlimited. My soul, fathomless and my dreams more beautiful than the blazing sun.

Yeah I'm Self Involved

self-involved - absorbed in your own interests or thoughts etc
self-absorbed
egocentric, egoistic, egoistical, self-centered, self-centred - limited to or caring only about yourself and your own needs

I recently read an email between two people neither of whom know me all that well. But the one who knows me least felt comfortable laying out this judgment against me for the other's consideration. In hopes, perhaps, that this would encourage the other to exit my life.

I can see how this individual could come up with this evaluation of my character because of course anyone who gives up their career to stay home and raise two sick children, loans friends thousands of dollars, pays for vet bills for another friend and unasked purchases brand new bedding for a toddler as a gift, who sits by a friend's hospital bed so the exhausted husband can run home for some sleep and a shower, who sends money to support a state university library, who anonymously paid for something a friend said they needed, who bakes a cake and delivers it just because someone said they wanted one, who baked cupcakes by the dozens for a friend's daughter's birthday, who paid several hundred dollars to aid another friend to attend a conference they couldn't otherwise afford, who has spent countless hours listening and being there for others, who cares for a home and a man who probably doesn't deserve it, who wrote a check and handed it to another friend as deposit on an apartment, who spent several hours looking for a stranger's kitty lost in the cold and snow (and found it!), certainly must be self involved.

No shit Sherlock.

Beckons To Me

Beckons to me
Dancing lights glinting and shifting
Shivers and divers feelings
Tumbling, rolling, reaching, grasping

Wide open as far as the eye can see
Until the next wave
Hits
Lift me up

Alight on me prismatic creature.
And stay.

You are on solid ground
Despite how it may seem
You are safe
So stay.
Share with me please your ethereal beauty

For however long you may be

Share with me.

Walking the Path

No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path.
Buddha

And So Will I

Lately this blog has been about answering the questions Who Am I and What Am I. These questions were brought to my attention again today so on October 26, 2011 here are my answers. I doubt this is complete. So the blog will go on. And so will I.


Who I am: I am a woman who has some experience of life.
I am a seeker of more life experience.
I am kind hearted, fun and ornery.
I am honest to a fault.
I am caring and love to organize!
I am a questioner and a considerer.
I am creative.
I am some one who deals with depression.
I am a good friend, a good mother and at one time I thought I was a good spouse.
I am not perfect.
I am loving.

What I am:
I am a human being.
I believe that I am a part of a divine intelligence/being.
I am a woman.
I am worthy of all good things by divine right.
I don't always remember that but I do believe it is true.

These are my truths.

Lit From Within

Thinking, thinking. And yet more thinking. A thought that might surprise readers of this blog. I 'am' happier than this time last year. I have made positive progress from this time last year on several fronts. Therapy with a therapist who suits me (but does not coddle) has helped me not to feel alone. A patient, ardent, sweet someone special has switched on an inner light long dimmed. Children, healthy and happy are any Mother's joy. Recently I have set some goals for myself with regard to my art. I am busy meeting those goals and having a little faith in myself. Happiness is an emotion I haven't spent a lot of time with. But I want to. And I intend to. There will be jogs from this path but on this, the occasion of my older son's birthday, I am focusing on the light within.

You Don't Know Jack

I told someone things feel shaky. You know what I mean. You are climbing the beanstalk, holding on for all you are worth and some Yayhoo thinks its funny to
grab the stalk (while on the ground) and shake! You are too far up to deal with the Yayhoo though you'd dearly love to. There is nothing to do but hang on.
That's the visual. Hanging on.

You are scared of heights so the only option is to continue looking upwards and keep on climbing. Because looking down causes panic to rise up.
Climbing, climbing till finally you stop to catch your breath. You look around and realize that even if you are still precariously far from the ground and you can't even see to the top of the stalk, that where you've stopped to catch your breath is an okay place to be. It's just you and the stalk, but so far so good. For all of you climbing your beanstalks if things get shaky-hang on. And then keep on climbing.

The Dark Pit

Capricorns take things seriously. I am no exception.
As with most things this has benefits and disadvantages.
To take something seriously requires thought. Usually thought is better than charging in blindly.
But as most would agree, some things in life require faith. Believing without proof. Romantic love is one of these things.  A person can and should analyze the object of their affection to see if a relationship is feasible. A number of factors should be considered. But after all this is done what next? 

The next part is something most Capricorns have a real problem with.
Taking the plunge. And this part is inescapable. It's like an infant taking first steps. They know they want what is across the room. They have practiced inching along the coffee table. They have observed those around them doing it. But taking those first steps can be likened to a precipitous drop into a dark pit.

Romance. A precipitous drop into a dark pit. If there is anything I hate more than not knowing I don't know it. Calculating, theorizing, a bit of experimentation- all good things but absolutely no guarantee of successful romance. Because (and I cringe as I write this) THERE ARE NO GUARANTEES.  As I have found, neither brains, logic nor longevity can guarantee one's happiness with a partner.

Whether I like it or not there are things out of my control. How another chooses to behave is one of those things. People are people. They screw up and hurt you. Then what? Two little words with enormous impact. Then what? I am not proud to admit that I am stuck here. 
I just don't know and as we all know I hate that. With a passion.

I have choices. Choices I certainly never, ever anticipated. Choices that pull me out of my comfort zone. But that zone is mighty comfortable. It is all I know. It is my life. Change is not easy. Despite what plucky heroines in short romance novels would have you believe.
Change is also inevitable. But like my cat who extends all 4 legs to grip the cat carrier to prevent being removed, I resist. I don't know what would happen, how to go about doing it or trusting that once done I would be ok. In short, I am afraid. Again, unlike our plucky heroine.

I so admire the courage it takes to uproot. I'm ashamed that I don't possess it.
I fall short of my own expectations again and again.
It is discouraging and makes me sad. I wish I was better.

Tinged with Despair

A doctor once told me that people with depression ride a roller coaster.
Most days I do pretty well. Some days I honestly wish I was dead. Other days are simply tinged with despair.

This might sound dramatic (and in the interest of full disclosure I started college as a drama major) but no, it really is my life. On the hard days I cut myself no slack. I find little to be satisfied with. 
Not going to lie, I feel sorry for myself.
Brooding on old sorrows and new.  Looking for answers so long in coming.
Asking old questions, feeling the old frustrations as new.

You remember the old cartoons where the main character gets mad and kicks the anvil thereby hurting only himself? That's what living is feeling like for me lately. I wish there was someone to blame. But depression wasn't gifted to me like the fairy godmother's gave gifts to the princess it was passed down unwittingly in my genes.

So pain equals growth huh? Well damn I should be on a mount somewhere giving out loaves and fishes! Instead I'll get up in the morning and put my youngest on a plane to study abroad for a year.
Then return to figuring it out. So not thrilled.

In Practice

At therapy this week I was asked why I care what anyone else thinks of me.
I think the answer is that I am not so confident in who I am that someone else's opinion doesn't make me pause to consider ( or fear ) that they are correct.

'Sticks and stones can break my bones but words they cannot hurt me.'
Great in theory. In practice, not so much. So the logical answer here is to become so well acquainted with myself that outside vitriol cannot penetrate.
It's true that recent years have taken a toll on my self esteem.
But I am not so far gone that I'll go down without a fight.  And the fight is with myself. To hold onto what I know and to add to it through whatever means
life chooses to present to me.

So what do I know? I am not a liar. I am strong enough. I am not narcissistic.
I care about others. I am loyal. I am kind. I like to build people up not tear them down. I'd rather laugh than cry. You'd want me for a friend because I am a good one.

There are additional things to learn. There is more life to live.
Bring it.

Squinting to See Through

We all process everything in our lives through personal filters.
I know this. I even know it as it is happening. But even so it happens.
What I mean is, I have a filter that says I will be lied to and let down.
It's happened and that is where the filter came from.
But what happens when you run the filter on someone who hasn't previously done those things to you? You judge them on your history. Not the history that you both may share but on your own. 

Clearly that isn't fair, right or reasonable. But reason doesn't always enter into these things. Instead a kaleidoscope of swirling illogical emotions takes over and everything in you starts saying 'Danger, Will Robinson!' The next thing that happens is either flight or fight.  Even if this isn't what you really want. All you know in the moment is it must be done. 

It takes a patient person to see through this behavior to what is really going on. It takes a loving person to persist through this behavior. It takes a person with great compassion and faith to see beyond this behavior into the future. 

I'm lucky because I have such a person in my life.  I'm hoping for both our sakes I can, someday, adjust the filters to reflect current reality.

I Got Your Point

I want to believe that deep down you know what you have done/are continuing to do is wrong.
You can continue to do this because I won't defend myself.
To do so I'd have to say things that would hurt you and do it publicly.
I don't want that, never have. That isn't the kind of person I am or ever will be.
To know that you are deceiving others about my character, and the role you have played, (including your closest friend, someone I always respected) hurts. But that is the point isn't it?
I can't change you or control what you do. All I can do is to continue being happy with my life and the people I've chosen to be in it. Oh and also this-forgive you, which I most certainly do. Namaste

Giving Birth or Burial?

The news is full of discussions on our carbon footprint. Tonight I'm thinking about my footprint on this life and the people in it. I'm not a volunteer. I'm not a blood donor, reading tutor or community server.

So what good am I? I don't hold a job outside the home. I haven't invented anything, built anything or contributed a great work of art to the world. I've raised a couple of great young men. I'm a friend. I thought I was a good wife and had always been proud of an enduring marriage. I was a daughter. To my second cousin Edie I was 'Dolly' I've either been fat or too thin depending on when and what parent you might have asked. I've been called generous, adorable, judgmental, selfish and sweet.

I have a much loved friend who is currently contemplating her worth. Especially to her husband. I understand this much better than she knows. I contemplate my worth a lot. And wonder like the famous Christmas movie what life would be like if I was dead.

So what is my footprint on my life? My worth? If I had been able to answer this at all this ability ended in '08. But it is time now, I think, to once again begin searching for these answers. Because I don't want someone else's actions to define me even by default.
I've helped some people. I've listened, talked, dished out sympathy, provided some ideas. I've cooked meals, bandaged knees, paid for lunches, paid for vet care and comforters.
I've held hands and made love. I've enjoyed books, music and new places. I've given birth and buried my parents. I've washed dishes, clothes, floors and small faces.
I've changed my outlook on a few things and am still up in the air on others. I've had some relationships.

What does all this add up to? Who is this person?

The Sun Will Rise

The sun will rise tomorrow. I'm pretty sure. But these days that is about all I trust.
I never was a completely trusting child. One of my earliest memories is my Father chasing my Mother into a bathroom. She locked herself in and I remember him pounding on the door and yelling. I was in a high chair in the kitchen beside that bathroom.

Maybe this is why I've always felt outside of myself watching my life as I live it. Because to fully inhabit this life requires a level of trust I've never achieved. Despite the rocky start, there have been some things I've been able to trust. I trusted my husband to be and act honorably with no intent to harm me or our marriage.
I trusted that I would be a good Mom because I wanted to be more than anything.
I trusted that as long as I wanted to read, authors would write.
So two out of three ain't bad right?

Lately I find myself with viewpoints so disparate from another's that I catch myself wondering if there is some clue I've missed that is preventing me from adopting their viewpoint.
As best I can figure, there is no clue I've missed. There is only two people standing on opposite edges of a deep chasm with no way to bridge the gap.
I'm not planning a zip line crossing so I must find a way to trust myself in this situation. Why? Because, though I wish otherwise, it's for my own good.
Because I'm no longer that youngster, trapped in her high chair, as the two people who were her world began the dissolution of it.

I realize that not trusting is damaging me. But I don't know how to fix it.
Taking this step to advocate for my own good, however, might at least, be a start.

The Alpha and The Omega

The start and the end. Both embued with magic. Both worth more than a passing thought.

To obtain an Alpha there must be an Omega. How a person handles each speaks to their character or lack thereof.

I have set myself some standards. A modus operandi. One I can live with while still having to view myself in mirrors. I don't intend to deviate as this deviation would cause me more pain than one who chooses to behave differently toward me. Because wherever I go I take myself with me. So my traveling companion must be one I can view in mirrors, holding my head up, with clear, bright eyes and firm resolve.

My intuition tells me that those who believe this about me will make worthier traveling companions than those who are deceived into believing other things by omission or commission.
The worthier travel companions give me great gifts. Faith, love, laughter and the occasional needed embrace. To them I give my love along with kind, careful and gentle regard. They deserve it. And so do I.

Sure as Hell

#ZodiacFacts #Capricorn Weaknesses:
Know-it-all,
Unforgiving,

Condescending, 

Expecting the worst.

I ran across this in my Twitter stream a few days ago. I see so much of myself in other aspects of this sign of the zodiac so I decided I must consider whether these weaknesses are also mine. 

Know-it-all: I would not have thought so.  I've read, though, that we are entitled to ask any question and expect to receive an answer. But the answer may not be what is expected. Therapist would say all things are in front of us it is just a matter of believing that to be true. So with these things in mind maybe I am a know-it-all!

Unforgiving: I think it is more I have problems forgiving easily. A work in progress. I know that forgiveness is an empowering act. That has been my experience. Pride is my downfall in this.

Condescending: When I was younger I believe I was guilty of this. As I've gotten older I am way less judgmental. Still I would also count this a work in progress. I said to one of my tweeps that modesty is a hallmark of mastery. She did not agree seeing modesty to be the same as false modesty. But that isn't what I mean by modesty. Modesty to me is the acknowledgment that what works for me may not work for others. That my path is my own. The allowing of all others to walk their own unique paths. In acknowledging this I believe I am making progress in this area.

Expecting the worst: I have to admit this is definitely me. As a student of Abraham and believer in The Law of Attraction I do know better. I know that worry is imagining what I do not want. I think most Capricorns tend towards Eeyore. Knowing better isn't always enough.

I like this quote from Marilyn Monroe:

"I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best."

Image via Wikipedia

It Will Arrive

Monday the sixth I'll have been married 30 years. Just twenty when I made this life altering decision. I wasn't that different than most of my contemporaries. Had a large church wedding, a poofy eighties wedding gown and a cake that partially fell over.

Most likely Monday will arrive as it did 30 years ago. Hot and sunny. I'll be there too-what remains of me.

You've Got Mail

I knew an older gentleman who didn't quite get that newfangled thing called email. He asked once "How do they know when to send it?" I laughed then and occasionally still smile when I think about it. Tonight, though, I'm thinking about a similar thing on a scale so grand as to be incomprehensible. I've heard and read a lot about all events unfolding in their perfect time. To some that is as strange a concept as email was to my friend. It does make me wonder. Waiting around for the perfect unfolding could be one's life work. And maybe it is at that. Except I'd replace waiting around for calmly observing. Or as the therapist says, surfing.

I am a Capricorn. We are a hardworking, practical bunch. We thrive on charging ahead, solving problems, assuming leadership. There is not a lot of calmly observing in that. So embracing this concept has, and is, requiring a different mind set that is a work in progress. And therein lies the problem. Checklists, notes, organizational tools and calendars really don't have a place in embracing calmly observing. All it takes is intent. Which is way too simple for me to grasp most days. Remember I like to make things complicated.

Perfect unfolding. It means you are in the right place at the right time, always. It means everything that you do has a plan, a purpose. It means that no time is wasted as it too played a part in perfection. It means that no matter how much you desire to effect events you must, instead. calmly observe them as they unfold- trusting.  I don't think this means that a person can't have preferences or other intentions. These things, too, are part of the perfect unfolding. So what you want, the way you want it plays its part as well.

Imagine this to be true for everyone. Everything we know and everything we don't. This is where being on a scale so grand as to be incomprehensible comes in. How do we grasp a concept this big with such profound implications for our lives? As with most things you must start small. Think of a time when things just worked out. All the pieces came together in just such a way to work out. Coincidence, magic, luck? It has been called many names but what it is is the perfect unfolding. The teaching of this concept has been going on in my life for a long time. Remember Capricorns are stubborn. I just have trouble accepting that all is well. I keep thinking this life requires so much more than I have contributed to it. That I need to be doing more, being more, effecting more.

The universe does not need my help despite my inclinations towards organizing and alphabetizing. It just needs my intent. Again, way too simple right? But I've noticed that truth is simple. That perfection is always in front of us no matter what we are looking at. That life is a miracle in its perfect unfolding.

Which brings us back to the original question "how do they know when to send it?"

QUACK!

As I look back over the posts from the last few weeks I see reoccurring themes. If you read them and think, "Gee can't she write about anything else?" The answer is yes, yes I could. If I was writing for anyone else I probably would. But I'm not. I'm writing for me. And I'm going to write what I need to as often as I need to. Because it helps. And that is reason enough.

Tonight I sat on a concrete bench and watched the river pass by. There were birds, people, pets and the occasional skeeter. You wouldn't think a simple activity like that would be so soothing but it was. I sat and took it all in. Smelled the water, felt the breeze and thought. Watched the geese with their fuzzy goslings, getting huffy if anyone came too close. Listened to a few indignant duck quacks. For just awhile I immersed myself in the experience. And thought some more. Came up with a few thoughts on this day.

The good: a positive therapy appointment. Progress is being made.
Shared some good news and saw that who I shared it with was happy just because I was. Amazing.
The bad: feeling the pain of others. It is tough, especially when it just has to be.
The ugly: Guess what? There was none. Like I said progress is being made.

To get what I want I have to be more myself not less.  I'm not always sure what "more" looks like. But that's ok I'll figure it out. QUACK!

"Kirk to Enterprise, Two To Beam Up"

I know full well my mind cannot be read. As much as I enjoy sci fi and fantasy I understand
they are just entertainments. Why then am I so disappointed when someone can't? It doesn't make sense to hold anyone accountable for what they can not know. I believe I write plainly. I try to speak plainly as well. But it is definitely the things I am not saying lately that are on my mind. Distance sure doesn't help. It's so frustrating and it takes all I have at times not to just give up. Maybe I need a universal translator like the crew in Star Trek carried?
Nope, fiction. How about The Great Communicator Ronald Regan? Nope, dead. Seance? Nope, not dead. Mind meld? Nope, not from Vulcan. (I know fiction!)
Giving up? Possible. Growing up? Unlikely.

Listening til the Whistle Fades Away

I was 16 or 17 one night in late spring as I laid in bed under my open window. I remember the cool breeze blowing in and the sound of a train whistle in the distance mixed with the sounds of a graduation party being held a couple of blocks away. I listened to the train until I could no longer hear it and just the voices remained.
That night comes to mind now as I am doing a very similar thing to what I was doing all those years ago.  The train made me think of other places. Places very different than my home, family, school and work. And I lay there wondering where I'd be going and what I'd be doing in the years ahead. I felt curious but also a bit apprehensive because home was what I knew.

Here I am again. My day job as Mom for the most part complete. My youngest son will be spending the next school year in Germany, my oldest stepping out into the world having just graduated from college. I am content with the job I did with them (along with their father). They are good young men.

I have come to understand that a person is not what they do. If all you want to know about me is what I do, it might be a short conversation. The question itself, though, will tell me a lot about you.
Who I am is not always clear even to myself. I have always felt different. And I am not sure why. It was as if  I was living my life but watching myself live my life at the same time. I know I have an open mind. I am quite a bit more introspective then most would imagine. I think a lot. Too much probably. I tweeted about being stressed when a fellow driver shares a friendly wave. Forcing me to think if I know the person and where from etc. A nice lady responded, "Just wave back Babe."
What? You can do that?

Where I am today is not where I thought I'd be. There are good things about it and some that just really suck. There are days where some happiness touches me and others where death beckons.
There are days when hope lightens the load and days where I wish I could scream out at the unfairness of it.

Like the teenager that I was, I sometimes feel misunderstood and put upon. Therapist says we have all the freedom we could want. That a person just has to choose and keep choosing. That where the pain is is that uncomfortable place on the proverbial fence. 

But you know what? Sometimes it is all just too much. To consider, grasp and choose. So for today, I'm just going to choose to wave back.

Blessings True

I was given some information last Friday. It was about myself. Now, being that it was about me, you'd think I'd have some idea what to do with it. But no. Don't have a clue. I'm seeing a theme here are you?

I've about decided that not having a clue is what life is all about. At least mine. But I doubt I am alone in this.
Used to be when I had small children I did not have the luxury of wondering what life was all about. I had diapers to change, fights to break up and tears to dry up. I'm still doing at least one of those three but not for my children. Having the time now to ponder is both a blessing and a curse.

I like to help people to the extent I'm able. But I notice this too is both a blessing and a curse. For even with the best of intentions you can screw up to an amazing degree. Part of it is the arrogance that is the foundation of offering the help. The arrogance of thinking people need it. The truth is most people do not need help. They are doing just fine even when they aren't if you know what I mean. I have written about an experience I had helping a young woman attend a photography conference by going to the destination with her allowing her to afford to go. It turned into a pretty sad ordeal, at least it was for me. For the longest time I struggled with this experience. Trying to let go, forgive (myself and her) and move on.

I learned about the nature of forgiveness from this. The foolhardiness of traveling with someone you don't know well and that intentions don't always amount to much when hurt feelings are involved. 
But I also met a really amazing person who wrote to me after seeing the blog post. And told me my words were helpful to her. It meant so much to know that through the hurt the help still existed even if in a form I could not have anticipated. I was fortunate to have the support of a man I call brother and the comfort of an email full of cussing and fussing on my behalf. I still smile at the thought of it.

Part of my response to the lady who wrote me after seeing my post was this: "It would be so easy to hole up and close my heart to other friendships but I'm hoping that despite my imperfections there are other folks who would welcome me in their lives." I am so very happy to share that this hope has been fulfilled. Over and over.

So I have this information. Don't know what to do with it. But I do know this. The answer is not to close my heart. To this information, to life's experiences and most of all to other people who are the truest blessings.

Where is AAA When I Need Them?

I write a lot about figuring things out. I want to know. To see the road ahead. But I've hit a curve in my path around which I'm not privileged to see. I say 'I don't know' more than I could have ever anticipated.

I know someone who has a lot of certainty in her life now. I'd be lying if I said I did not envy her her certainty. Because if you don't have certainty you must muster up the faith to keep going around that curve, blind.

Faith: belief without proof.
What am I to believe? That is another difficult question because it suggests prior knowledge of that in which you have faith. So I keep living, getting up every morning, putting one foot in front of the other, hopefully achieving the necessary distance to get around the curve. And then what? I don't know.

Is there a AAA for life? I don't know.

Being

Just be. These are words my therapist has said to me on many an occasion. Usually while observing me like a bug under a magnifying glass. Apparently I have a problem just being.
Doing, thinking, agonizing, worrying, doubting, hurting, jonesing, plotting, crying, sniveling, questioning, questioning, questioning, demanding, shaking, belly aching.
Those things? Not a problem.

Here is the deal though, while I'm busy doing all those things I am not listening or waiting expectantly, with faith, that answers will come. Except that once in awhile the universe slips a quick answer in between the cracks of the doing, despite me. One such answer I really did not expect to ever get. It is on my mind today as it's been a month since I had the most difficult/painful therapy session I have ever had. I had had a bad month prior and this about did me in. He had asked me a question the week before, that I did not answer at the time. But I thought about it. A lot.
So I delivered the answer to him and we continued onto other things.

A few days passed and I was getting ready in the morning zoning out as we tend to do. When all of the sudden it hit me that the answer I had given the therapist earlier in the week was also the answer to a question that had vexed me for a year!

I had been in a pretty bad mental place for weeks and had just about decided to add additional antidepressants to what I already took. I try to avoid this as they all have their side effects with the one I take being one I tolerate best of all I've tried. Still, it would be better than some alternatives.

So along comes this answer I had not expected. Ever. And it occurred to me that if one answer had been given others could come as well. A bit of hope. And the more I focused on this seemingly miraculous happening my load seemed lightened. Just enough. Enough to grab hold of and be carried for just a while. Long enough to just be.

Hootin' and Hollerin'

There is a fairly recent song in which these lyrics appear 'why do you have to make things so complicated?'

Guilty. Don't know why. Is it that life is more interesting with bumps, curve balls, hootin' an hollerin? Or maybe I'm partial to the wrinkles that appear as I'm squinting trying to figure it all out? Wasn't crazy about math in school. Liked literature with it's foibles, fracases and fancy. Which is a very good thing as this so perfectly describes life and sex.

Sex. What could be more awkward, messy, wild or wonderful? Wouldn't it be easier to kick back with a brewsky? (and discussing this makes me wish for a brewsky-or ten) Yet most indulge. Though some do not. I'm not sure I've met too many of the latter.
Sex is a motivation, an aggravation, complex and basic. It is humanity expressed physically.

If Tarzan swings for you and neatly lands on the anticipated branch-I'm happy for you. When he swings for me, as likely as not, he'll smack right into the trunk.

Digging Down Past Polite

"How was your day?" This was a question asked of me yesterday evening. Asked of many yesterday evening. It is a polite question requiring a polite answer which I gave as I strive to be polite. But I'll share the real answer here. My day yesterday was in no way what I had planned or looked forward to for many months. It wasn't shared with the person I had planned to share it with.

It was a pretty day. It is spring. Flowers, breeze, patios, skirts and wine. So I don't hold my change of plans against the day. And, invoking metaphysics, I must believe that the Universe conspires for me in all things. So somewhere, where I am unable to see with my physical sense, there is a big picture. Sometimes I imagine this big picture to be a gigantic puzzle. You and I, our doings and happenings, pieces of the puzzle. And because, most times, it is a puzzle to me I continue to imagine it this way.

I considered many options in which to aid myself accepting the revision. Thoughts included, a burning ceremony. (Writing whatever you'd like to send on from you and then burning the paper to send it on its way.)
Spending time in thought at a place that holds both a spiritual and memorial feel for me. Writing. Sharing with a friend.

In the end though, I did none of those things. I did other things. With thoughts of what might have been.

What Is It With Me and Trains?

Ahhh therapy. Fun times. ( BTW that was sarcasm if you don't know me.) Therapy helps but it is never easy.
Take yesterday. My lead story was something that happened in 1984. As I'm telling it, I realize that in the scheme of things it wasn't that bad and yet all these years later retelling it brought tears. I think the tears were more for the fear felt by the young girl I was then, than for the impact of the actual event. It's almost as if I'm a whole different person who can look back and feel compassion for the person that was then. As the poem I wrote for this blog says, "What you saw isn't what you see"
 
I'm different now than I was. That's easy to understand right? Got years and experiences and way to much chocolate under my belt. But I will tell you one thing I have in common with that young girl, the fear of the unknown. Why? Because it is unknowable. And I like to know. I am a planner, a visualizer, a list maker and note taker. But not one of those attributes helps in foretelling the future. Granted, there are many things that have happened that I would not have wanted to know. And, go me, I've survived them and learned a thing or two.

One of those things is that the compassion I extend to the girl I was, must also be extended to the woman I am. If I can't do this for myself I won't be able to do it for you. And I want to. Because we all have stuff.

Back to therapy. I was in the process of justifying some of my actions by explaining that the subject in question was just like a train wreck--I had to look. When, ouch!!! Therapist leans over and says "you aren't viewing the wreck you are standing in front of the train" Oh. Hadn't thought of that. Nah that was a lie. I had thought of it but did it anyway. As you might imagine, standing in front of the train isn't optimal. It hurts. So based on the learned advice of the therapist and compassion I'm extending to the woman I've become, I am getting out from in front of the train. And maybe, then, I'll be able to breathe.

Hoofing It

A few days ago I created a slideshow with music to be a gift. I've watched it multiple times even after I gave it to the person for whom it was intended. I like the music and the photos put together tell a pleasing story. But what really gives me a feeling of contentment was how I was able to sync the music with the images in just the way I wanted. Especially the final notes of the song with the final image. I like the feeling of accomplishment and control.

I am into metaphysics. Metaphysics tells us we create our own reality. So if you can buy into this you then could conclude you have the ultimate control over your life.
I ride that train as much as I'm able because it rings true for me.
On and off since '08, though, I've stepped off the train and hoofed it. I've had to puzzle through some difficult questions and circumstances. Control? It seems to have met it's fate under the wheels of the train. To say I am unhappy with the resulting confusion is to vastly understate it.

I am trying to understand the place I am in. Who I've become and who I wish to be.
Weighty questions for anyone. I don't always like who I've become. I wish I was more.
There are things about me that I do like. As I get older I've become way less judgmental.
I've been able to express love when I've felt it. I enjoy looking past the public personas of people and learning something of their true selves. I enjoy creating art in various forms.

When you ride a train the tracks lead you to an expected destination. But when you are hoofing it you could end up just about anywhere.

Remember Be Here Now

New week. New motto. Remember Be Here Now.
To me this means to keep remembering to be present with where you are. Both physically and mentally. In this now moment I am feeling tired. But I am not hurting anywhere. I am pretty darn comfortable. I am not hungry or thirsty. I feel some tension in my back and shoulders but at this realization comes a conscious attempt to release it.
Mentally in this now moment I feel absorbed in the task of communicating. Feeling happy and comforted having spoken with someone who means a lot to me. In awe of their ability to understand and soothe.
In this now moment all is well with me.
Where are you in this now moment?

Of Words That Should Have Been Spoken

Therapist says I'm depressed because I haven't made a decision about what lifestyle I want.
Hmmmmm I thought I did that back in **** when I put my hand in his and he made me promises.
But that has been some time ago. And folks forget. Or rather, perhaps the priest should have said as he married us, 'BTW New Husband do not look at porn in twenty years' But the priest didn't. And the man did. So now who do I blame? The priest for his lack of prescience?
The man for being human? Or myself for the apparent inability to just get over it?
Of the three, I'd say the priest was the least culpable.
My mother was married four times. Being a thoughtful and watchful child, I decided early on that all that drama was not for me. Once was enough I thought. For keeps.

When you're young you have this image of your life:
That you'll be scrupulous and one day even make a wife.
And you make boundaries you'd never dream to cross,
And if you happen to you wake completely lost.~Missy Higgins

That's where I am now. And not being the plucky heroine of my own story.
I'm disappointing myself. Before, I really thought I was stronger, braver and more resourceful than I've turned out to be.
If you've ever wondered what depression feels like, imagine it to be the heaviest burden you have ever, ever carried in all your life.

What's Love Got to Do With It?

Over the past year I have lost about 30 pounds. Most days I think I look pretty good.
But every morning the girl who stares back at me from the mirror is also the same girl who's husband looked at porn on line for one third of their marriage.
So despite countless hours of therapy, despite logic, friends, advantages, talent, a kind and loving heart, despite the years that have passed, I still look at that girl in the mirror and wonder from the depths of my soul, why she wasn't enough.

The Bowl and The Spoon

When my children were small they would complain that their brother got this or that and they did not. My response was "life is not fair and I don't care". The point being that equality doesn't happen with new shoes, outings or the icing on the spoon. Over time I'm convinced things were as even as possible but in the moment, no. Now it is my turn to whine about things not being fair. My Mom passed away in '07 so the lucky duck hearing this is my therapist who responds with a small smile and a wise nod of the head. (I'm paying an hourly rate for this, yes)
As an adult I truly do understand that life is not fair and mostly no one cares. And still I rail at the injustice. The railing and the wailing aren't helping much. If I thought it would help I'd stomp my foot like my toddlers did.
But sadly, my Mom is not around to hand out both the bowl and the spoon.

What You Saw

What You Saw

He found his inspiration on the screen, in the daily I found mine.
Came to that fork in the famous road, and oh it looked benign.  
Heard the stuff you always hear, that God Damned tired retread line!
Talk, talk, talk, talk and yet some more, help, heal, hide, opine?

Come on down and look for me, but what you saw isn't what you see
Come on down and look for me so sad and drowned in anxiety
Come on down and look for me, What will we tell society?
Come on down and look for me, but what you saw isn't what you see

That life is gone for good, there ain't no recreating.
You left, you left, you left! and now it's me left waiting.
The life, the girl, her heart, her soul, No! Not coming back.
You took my always. Then and now, and all I see is lack.

Come on down and look for me, but what you saw isn't what you see
Come on down and look for me so sad and drowned in anxiety
Come on down and look for me,  What will we tell society?
Come on down and look for me, but what you saw isn't what you see

The ghost steps out from the corporeal
You see its glow unreal?
I bet you know how its story ends
Share with me please if it transcends?

Come on down and look for me, but what you saw isn't what you see
Come on down and look for me so sad and drowned in anxiety
Come on down and look for me, What will we tell society?
Come on down and look for me, but what you saw isn't what you see