Two Thousand Ten

It's only natural at the end of the year to look back on everything that happened within the confines of the calendar year, reflect on our personal growth, and focus on the future.  In so many ways, one can view it as "just another year", completing another cycle of the seasons, reporting to work each day, maintaining friendships, family ties, etc.  But in so many other ways, for me at least, it can seem like a lifetime ago that 2010 began.

I have the same job I had a year ago, but the scope of my responsibilities has changed tremendously and my group of coworkers is not in tact as it was twelve months ago.  Some have moved on, and other new folks have joined our team - all of these changes irrevocably changing the dynamics of the workplace in both good and bad ways.

There are people I thought I knew a year ago who are no longer in my life.  There are people in my life whose existence was unknown to me twelve months ago.  And there are people alongside me who have changed tremendously, either voluntarily or involuntarily.

I was in a different romantic relationship at the start of 2010 than I am now.  I experienced disillusionment and emotional abuse, made choices to remove my life and my kids' lives from the wake of a human volcano whose eruptions were often unpredictable and destructive.  Now I am engaged to a man I hardly knew in high school, but who entered my life at a time where I was open to taking a small chance that turned into a huge investment and ultimately the best payoff I ever could have imagined.  We are engaged and getting married in 2011. 

I traveled to many places - three times to Virginia alone!  Once to seek solace and refuge in the arms of my family at a moment when I was feeling lost, wounded, and searching.  Once to celebrate the marriage of a beloved cousin who finally found her soulmate (and unknowingly spend time with my uncle for the last time).  And finally to memorialize my uncle who died unexpectedly.  I visited Baltimore for the first time and met some really neat people who made so many things in my life become crystal clear...  My work team enjoyed an incentive reward trip to Orlando where we shared fellowship, bonding, and the stress of making itinerary decisions as a large group.  :)  My college roommate and I enjoyed a trip to a free time share in the Bahamas where we did nothing but relax and rejuvenate and soak up the sun.  Finally, I went to Dallas for some work training.

We acquired a new pet - a turtle named Mrs. Relaxo!  I debated and designed a new tattoo but have not yet felt ready to commit to having it inked on me. 

I left a church where I felt inspired, my talents were being channeled to praise God, and my children were thriving.  The reasons for my departure were personal and tormented, but I took some time off and found another church that is very promising in terms of its breadth and depth and opportunities for reflection, growth, and servitude. 

As I stand at the threshold of 2011, I'm reminded of my visit to the Jamaican palm reader in 2008.  She told me with no uncertainty a number of things that were dead on and that not many people know.  She told me I was with the wrong man and to "keep flirting", and she told me that 2011 was going to be "my year".  She said it could be any number of big events - a career change, a move, a baby, or a marriage....but that something life changing would happen.  And here I sit and grin as I think of the promise and potential ahead of me.  All of us are richly blessed.  I'm just grateful I am in a moment where I recognize my abundant privilege and opportunities, and am willing to embrace the positive and stifle the negative.  Welcome two thousand eleven.  Are you ready for me?

the last single mother Christmas

Recently my boyfriend asked me to marry him and so I am acquainting myself with the idea of being engaged and eventually married.  It is an interesting place from which to stand at Christmastime.  You see, I have been a single mother to 2 kids for 6 years now.  Christmas has not been easy.  It isn't easy to find the energy to drag out all the decorations, address all the cards, buy all the gifts and wrap them, do all of the baking, and never once be able to approach any of these tasks by yourself without first arranging for a sitter.  There's no running out at 9 p.m. to get that ingredient you forgot for the Christmas cookies. There's no quick dash to Target for that one gift you haven't picked up yet - not without loading two kids in the car and taking them with you (not an option when needing those items at 10 p.m.!).  And when you are buying for them, that becomes a bit difficult to do in their presence, at least once they are past the age of 1.  Not to mention, it's the time of year you feel most nostalgic, most raw and exposed, and you have the emptiness that comes from not having a companion, which can  constantly remind you that much of the rest of the world is happily humming along and sipping steamy drinks all with a smile on their lips.  At least it can feel that way when you are alone.

It's been suggested to me that I ought to be happy just being a mother to my two kids.  Why do I "insist" on having romance in my life too?  My response to that is that we were all created to crave human companionship, intellectual stimulation, emotional validation, and yes human intimacy.  Otherwise, why not just make one human and let him or her enjoy this little planet?  Although I consider myself a strong and independent woman, I do admit that the most difficult part of the last 6 years has been not having that consistent "go to" person at my side, whether I needed an actual favor like brown sugar from the store or simply needed to know that I wasn't alone in this world.

I won't lie.  I'm thrilled at the prospect of knowing that every Christmas from here on out will be spent with my love by my side, in addition to the long list of other blessings in my life.  I am proud of myself for what I've done on my own.  I've managed to keep this house even in times where my income was less than anticipated.  I've raised two kids from the ages of <1 to 7 and 3 to 9.  My first night alone, I set the alarm for 5 a.m. so that I could change the baby's diaper, feed him his bottle, change both of their clothes for them, make breakfast, feed him and referee her eating, and get them to their day care and myself to work by 8.  It's comforting to know that I'll have a partner now.  Someone to help me care for the kids.  Someone to bear part of the load when it comes to laundry, cooking, cleaning, mowing, etc.  Someone to talk to after a tough day.  Someone to watch the kids if Mommy wants to lay down for a bit.  Someone to discuss big decisions with.  Someone to pray with.  Someone to watch silly TV with.  Someone to love.  Someone to love me.

If that makes me selfish, that's okay.  I've been called worse.

no "but"s

I am a lucky woman in that I have had the opportunity to be a part of many romantic relationships in my life.  I realized a long time ago that no matter how good a romance seemed in the moment, the cold hard truth was that it was either going to end or last forever.  "Forever" is not a word that I can fully comprehend.  Obviously I've not yet experienced forever, but you know what I mean.  I've been promised the moon, the stars, and even unconditional love and promises of forever, but the fact remains that my legal salutation is "Ms." and even if it were "Mrs." or if I was in a dedicated lifetime partnership (choosing to forego marriage), there are simply no guarantees.

With the ending of each relationship, I realized I knew a little bit more about what I wanted in a partner, and perhaps more importantly, what I did not want in a partner.  For instance, a mate with ambition and drive is great, but if they want to put me in a cage they are going to be disappointed with the outcome.  Finding someone with electric physical chemistry is lovely, but if they can't engage in an intellectual conversation with me I'm going to eventually become blinded to their more superficial traits.  A person I can laugh with is not going to meet all my needs if they can't be responsible in life.  Becoming a parent only muddied the post-divorce dating waters further (as if finding someone with whom you are supremely compatible isn't difficult enough), because it became essential to find someone who also could properly love my children and whom my children could love. 

I find myself in this particular moment in time feeling happy, satisfied, content, and at peace in my romantic relationship.  For the first time in my life, there are no "but"s - no red flags that nag at me, no unanswered questions that beg to be more closely examined, no issues I'm sweeping under the carpet in fear that I won't do better than this. 

I can't predict the future or make any guarantees, but living in a "no but" moment with a "no but" person is extremely liberating, rejuvenating, energizing, and it awakens a deep peace within me.

falling off the list

I sat down to start writing my Christmas cards tonight.  It's always an interesting moment - flipping through my address book and realizing how much can change in the span of a year.  Some names cause me to flinch, reliving the pain of a person's death since this time last year.  Some names need to be added because of new friendships, new love, or births.  But I'm particularly struck by the names of several folks who got crossed off my list because of relationships that ended.  Before I got to the "L"s I had crossed off three people's names, leaving the names of their ex (or soon to be ex) spouses and in some cases, their children.

I'm thinking about the choices we each make in our daily lives and how they impact others.  Thinking about the hurt and pain that several of my friends are experiencing as they pass through their first Christmas season without their significant other at their side.  I know how painful and empty it can feel to open that box of ornaments, seeing trinkets from places you visited together or reminders of the dreams you shared and the life you were building.  You go through your holiday rituals, unsure how to navigate, trying to create new traditions and better memories. 

I feel very lucky this Christmas because so much in my life is going well and contributing to my personal happiness.  But I haven't forgotten more painful Christmases.  It has always been a time of year that draws me to family, friends, and other loved ones, and has always sparked off nostalgia that makes me quite emotional.

I'm going to remember as I bask in the warmth and glow of happy times that others aren't so happy this year and that I've been that unhappy person more than once at Christmas.  I'm so grateful for my blessings and my luck, and my heart goes out to those who are hurting because of the absence of a special loved one - either because of death or because of the end of a significant relationship. 

faith and trust

Faith and Trust - the two are not the same, and while I appreciate Webster's definitions, I'm trying to hammer it all out for myself.  Forgive me as I cram a potential 20 page journal into a blog.  :)

As a Type A personality, I like to have as much control as possible over my life and my surroundings, leaving very little to chance.  I love to drive, both literally and figuratively.  When I get on the back of a motorcycle, why is it such a rush?  I have zero control over my own safety or even the path that machine will take.  It has to do with faith and with trust.  Letting oneself go, placing your well-being in another's hands, even if only for a few moments, is such a "high" when you realize you're in good hands.

Why do I struggle so much with my religious faith and interpersonal trust?  I have faith in my God, no doubt.  It is the day-to-day that becomes a challenge - turning it over to someone else, making my best effort and really trusting that I'll be cared for and nourished and blessed, even if it comes in ways that aren't immediately recognizable as blessings.  I'm a worrier, and it's been said that to worry is to insult God.  I'm sorry about that God, and I'm working on it.  It's so hard for me. 

You see, I've been conditioned to believe that when you let go of the reins, most of the time you wind up getting kicked off the horse.  So many of the people I've put my trust in have hurt me in big and small ways.  I'm a flawed sinner, so of course what I brought to the table wasn't perfect either.  But I'm talking about malicious hurt.  I'm talking about evil too.  I've seen evil in faces that once held love, or something I believed was love...  I've been on the receiving ends of words that were intended for no other purpose than to degrade and insult and make me love myself less and question myself more.

Not everyone is deserving of trust.  In fact, I'd argue that there is no one who is 100% trustworthy, just as there is no one who is 100% untrustworthy.  We all have weaknesses in our character and in our actions.  We all can be led astray by various temptations, and I'm not just talking about infidelity here.  The temptation to lie, the temptation to use drugs, the temptation to steal, the temptation to be punitive...

Still, I've never been capable of giving up on human relationships.  I've sought out new friends and fallen in love even after suffering heartbreak.  Maybe that is faith?  Faith that someday someone will be deserving of the spirit gifts I have to offer, and that my risks will pay off?  It's not that I'll never be hurt again, but that I will experience a deep and genuine love from certain souls in my life who accept me and celebrate me for who I am, who don't wish to change me, and who wish to shield me as much as possible while supporting me through my valleys.  Not to mention the rush I feel when I realize that someone I love trusts me.  I think being trusted might be equally as powerful as being loved.  But what is love?  Ah, let's save that for another blog.....

An Eye for an Eye

After 20 years of dating, I find myself sitting back and reflecting on the subject of arguing.  I had a therapist once who said that disagreements were normal and healthy ways to relate to other human beings who had a differing opinion or perspective, whereas arguing stepped it up to a more personal level, and fighting was only about one thing: winning.  You only fight to win.   Not to sort out differences or reach a higher understanding or compromise.  You only fight to win, and thus you are willing to harm someone else in the process – be it physically or emotionally.  You are willing to take cheap shots of various forms, trying to hit the other person where it hurts.  At that point it has become a purely selfish mode of communication (if you can even call it that) and no longer a dialogue. 

I have been involved with several men who refined the art of arguing and, yes, fighting.    What they often didn’t know is that I am: a) very stubborn, b) very opinionated, and c) very articulate.  While I can get swept away on the waves of emotion and passion, I am very rational and logic when I participate in an argument, building my case as if I were a lawyer, and drawing in all kinds of supporting evidence.  What I found was that the fighters I dated weren’t interested in being rational or gaining a common ground.  They were interested in destroying me, in the form of hitting on my insecurities, throwing sucker punches at my ego, and bitch slapping my pride. 

I watched other couples I knew and noticed they didn’t ALL operate like that.  Sometimes I doubted myself, thinking that maybe if you wanted to have the good kind of passion you had to have the bad kind too.  Always I would think of my parents, happily married for 42 years, never once fighting or arguing in front of me.  I would ask myself if my Dad would ever say or do that to my Mom and it was a moot question.  Of course he wouldn’t.  Having that example as my foundation made me refuse to settle for less than the same for myself, even if it meant spending a lot of years single. 

Now I am learning that there are men out there with backbones, with opinions and so forth, but who are also able to care about me as a human being.  Sure, we have had our little scuffles and even periods of silence where someone had to walk away.  But I’m learning that there are some people who care enough to walk away instead of engaging in battle or worse yet – trying to simply win.   There are men who are willing to say “I’m sorry” and who want more than anything not to be the cause of any pain in my eyes.  This is a new concept to me, believe it or not.  Not every man or boy I’ve dated has been a nasty fighter, but there is a recency effect that leaves me wary of the strong-willed man. 

As a single mother, I’m completely committed to creating an environment for my children that sets the same foundation upon which I was raised.  I know that it is possible, and I will not settle for less – for myself, or for them…

"I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean"

This lyric from "I Hope You Dance" (Lee Ann Womack)  has always struck me as a powerful image.  I'm leaving for The Bahamas in two days and eagerly anticipating that first moment where I see and hear the ocean in all its glory.  To be next to something so beautiful, so majestic and powerful, is always humbling and inspiring.

I already know I've got lots of stuff to throw in that ocean while I'm there.  No, I'm not talking about littering.  I'm talking about spending a lot of time contemplating, reflecting, renewing, rethinking... I have a friend who, when he is frustrated or stressed about something, will say, "put it in a bubble and blow it away."  I plan on blowing a lot of proverbial bubbles while I am there.  I've been learning a lot about life and love and family and what matters, what doesn't, etc.  Hoping to leave some things out there so far away from the sanctuary of my home.  Hoping to let go of some fears, nagging concerns, worries, stresses, frustrations, and doubts.  Hoping to feel small for just a moment and to be comfortable with that and find solace in it.

The Blessing of Tragedy

Tragedy has a funny way of setting into motion so many blessings.

Last week, my uncle died quite unexpectedly.  Every detail I learned about his death and the circumstances surrounding it were filled with jaw dropping, eyebrow-furrowing reactions.  My family here in Ohio knew there was cause for concern, but I was the first one to formally hear that he had passed away. I, in turn, had to tell my Dad that his brother was dead.  My response to that dread and anxiety was purely hysterical, which led my 9 year old daughter to behave hysterically as well.  This forced me to compose myself enough to make the call.  The challenge of piecing together childcare for my 2 kids (so that I could drive 500 miles to be with the family and attend the funeral) forced me to be organized and present-minded.

My boyfriend announced he would either be coming with me or staying behind to care for my children, and that nothing I said could sway him.  I couldn't believe he was willing to do that, having only met my extended family once, a few short weeks ago, and having recently started a new job that may or may not approve of his absence.  While I felt immense guilt about that, I was also moved beyond words to know that he was willing to sacrifice huge things just to provide solace for me.  He was also willing to put himself in the midst of an intimate situation as an "outsider" just so I wouldn't have to face it alone. 

After we arrived in Virginia, I saw for myself just how lost my aunt seemed without her lifelong companion.  And yet, her 2 grown boys - my beloved cousins - were pillars of strength at her side.  They constantly comforted her, allowed her to experience the gamut of emotions, and validated every decision she made in the hours and days to come.  I was blown away at the amazing men my childhood playmates have become, and feeling as proud as ever to belong to this family.

I stood in amazement at the PILES of food, desserts, paper products, drinks, etc. that people were bringing to the house.  I'm inclined to say you haven't seen hospitality unless you've seen Southern hospitality...  It was simply mind boggling.  Phone calls were trickling from people who had stories to share about how my uncle had influenced their lives or left an impression on them.  We just didn't know how far he'd cast his net.  :)  The volume of people who stood in line for 45 - 60 minutes just to give their condolences to the family was amazing and humbling.  Seeing so many uniformed officers (he worked for the sheriff's office) in attendance at the funeral, and leading the long processional to the burial site was so very powerful.

Sitting at the funeral, as my cousin rose to say a few words about his father, I began to feel the pew shaking.  I realized it was my stoic father, his body giving away the fact that his soul was racked with grief.  As upsetting as it is for a girl to see her Daddy falling to pieces, it was a beautiful reminder of the love he felt for his brother. 

Tragedy brings pain, sadness, anger, confusion, loneliness, and emptiness.  But even amidst tragedy, if we only open our eyes, we see so much love and beauty around us: the support of caring friends, the strength and love of family, the sacrifices people are willing to make in order to extend a measure of comfort, and the way that people can become united when they need to pull together for someone they held in the highest esteem. 

Thanks Uncle "Sport".  Even in your death, you continue to teach us about being better people.  You "preached it all along the way", as your son so eloquently shared as he stood behind your casket.  Rest peacefully.

taking care of one another

My kids' elementary school has a simple value/mission statement:

Take care of others.

Take care of yourself. 

Take care of this place.

In my observations, care and compassion breed care and compassion.  It seems that when people are treating me with kindness, I feel more positive and more inclined to emanate caring behaviors.  When people stop showing they care about me, I continue to show them kindness for a spell, but eventually my energies wear down, I try less, and at some point I focus my energies elsewhere.

Don't get me wrong, there are times in our lives when we simply have nothing to give, and our true friends will understand that.  We are going through a difficult or depressing time and we have no choice but to focus our efforts on ourselves, with not a morsel of "leftover" energy to devote elsewhere. 

But generally speaking, I think we each have a responsibility to care for others and our environments, as well as ourselves.  I'm struck by the powerful words of William Sarovan:

"A word of encouragement during a failure

is worth more than an hour of praise after success."

While I certainly crave and thrive on praise and recognition, I am awfully good at beating myself up or isolating myself when I feel I have failed at something or fallen adrift.  It is in those times that I really need to hear a kind word and to hear that someone else believes in me.  And it is my responsibility as a human being to offer the same to those I see suffering.  Sometimes people are just not going to care about me, no matter how I've conducted myself or treated them.  I can choose whether or not to emotionally invest in those people.  Chances are, I'm going to focus my energies elsewhere, towards those who appreciate the kindness I have to offer and who will mirror it back to me.  Seems so basic, so simple.  So elementary. :)

the context of crisis

Yesterday I was sitting in church when I noticed that the couple in front of me was in some sort of distress.  The husband was leaning limply forward and his wife was shaking his shoulders, trying to get him to "wake up" and look at her or respond in some way.  I did what many of us do - initially ignoring the situation, trying not to "get involved", and so forth, wondering if even he was just bored by the sermon and had dozed off!  

Quickly I sensed her panic and I leaned forward to ask if she needed help.  She vigorously nodded yes, and I summoned an usher.  I asked if her husband had low blood sugar issues (he was acting a lot like I do when my sugar is low and I'm about to faint) and she said "sometimes".  I grabbed the protein bar I'd slipped in my purse that morning (knowing my sugar was bound to crash 2 - 3 hours after I ate breakfast) and gave it to her.  A woman popped up beside me and volunteered that she was a nurse, and began to help the man.  Another woman in front of the couple turned around and said that she too was a nurse, and she began to check his pulse.  Without thinking, I reached forward and began to rub the wife's back.  Eventually some men carried the husband out of the sanctuary, still in his chair, and they called 911 and took him off for medical attention.

As I sat there replaying the situation in my mind, I thought of all the odd ways in which the context of this situation constructed itself.  I wasn't feeling great that morning and almost opted not to go to church.  But I went, and this couple had turned around to warmly greet me as I was sitting there waiting for the service to begin, probably looking a little unsure and out of place.  I believe this sort of behavior establishes some sort of subconscious bond between two humans, when one reaches out to another with no hidden agenda or motive, other than to welcome them.  This might have led me to react more quickly than usual when I noticed they were in distress.  This probably made my inhibitions melt away when my gut said to reach out and physically comfort the woman. 

I thought about how often I forget to pack a snack for my hypoglycemic moments, but that morning I hadn't forgotten, and he'd been able to use it, and maybe it helped him a little.  I thought of the proximity of those 2 nurses who were able to offer medical assistance and triage the situation.

How much of life is due to chance, to freewill, to destiny?  I can't say, as I believe there is no clearcut answer, but rather a mix of those things operating together.  But it fascinates me to think about how certain people and moments seem to align at times to work toward the good of the universe.  I know there have been moments I've narrowly missed being in a car accident, and have thought back to what caused my car to be ahead or behind the site of the crash.  It just makes me slow down for a moment to think about the intention of the universe and the role we play within it.

never enough

sometimes it feels like your life is a treadmill, that you are running nonstop without ever getting a chance to catch your breath.  it feels like you just can't try any harder at all the roles you are trying to fulfill in your life, all the people you hold yourself accountable to, and it's just never enough.  maybe you don't have what it takes to do it all - all of the time.  maybe you signed up for roles that you just can't fill. 

i snap at my kids sometimes when i feel overwhelmed and taken for granted.  sometimes it's other stuff in the background that is prompting me to hit that point.  deep down i wonder if i'm a good enough mother.  i'm trying to keep a house in order, work hard enough to pay the bills and pay them on time, to keep health insurance for everyone and get them to their doctor appointments and fill out their forms for school and help them with their homework and above all else - trying to teach them to be good human beings with good values and morals.  trying to teach them to love.

i fail those i work with at times, missing a deadline or making some sort of error.  it costs something to someone else, be it money or trust or time.  i don't need to be reprimanded because i do a great job of beating up myself when i fail someone.

my relationships have been one train wreck after another, and the fact of the matter is - i am the common denominator in all of them.  i think a lot about myself and what i'm doing wrong or why i'm making the wrong choices.  i don't waste time with people though - if i'm not totally into them, caring deeply, being fiercely loyal, i just don't bother.  i can't and won't fake it.  so i give it my all, but the lesson i've learned is that giving your all doesn't guarantee anything really.

i don't like to half ass it.  i won't commit to something if i don't believe i can give it my all and do it as close to perfect as possible.  sometimes it's just hard to keep the faith and to keep trying and believing in yourself, when you feel like you are busting your ass and never quite doing or being enough to anyone.

Virginia - The House That Built Me

Recently I had the opportunity to return to Virginia for my cousin's wedding.  My parents and brother were born in Virginia, and I'm the displaced Yankee born in Ohio.  I never experienced a Christmas morning in Ohio until after I was 18.  My summer vacations were always to Virginia.  So it feels like home to me too in a way.

Every time I go back there, I seem to follow a ritual that involves visiting the cemetery where my grandparents are buried, and driving by the modest little house where they lived, and where so many memories were created during my childhood.  I recall that place booming with laughter and bustling with people, but to drive by now, it looks so tiny and slight.  I want so much to walk inside of that house just one more time.  Miranda Lambert has a single called "The House That Built Me" that strikes a chord with me for this very reason. 

What would it really accomplish to step inside?  The biscuit dough I threw on the ceiling (until it got so tacky it stuck for good) - I'm sure it's been cleaned up and cleared away.  The smells of homemade chocolate pie - long gone.  The smoky haze in the bathroom as my grandma tried to hide the fact that she was still smoking - long cleared up.  Still, life happened there.  I learned more about who I was, who my parents were, who my grandparents were...  I can't go into that physical place anymore.  Perhaps that's why I'm so drawn to the cemetery.  Earlier this summer when I was there, I went to that cemetery and literally laid at the foot of their graves and let myself have a big cry.  I talked aloud about the pain I was feeling in my heart at that time, asked them questions they couldn't answer, and told them how much they had impacted my life.  Love is a powerful thing and it doesn't die when it is real.  I think sometimes we associate physical places with emotional feelings and so we return again and again in an effort to recapture those emotions.

I know someday my last living grandparent will be gone and I will feel all of these things about her house too.  So for now, I soak it all up, marinate in those fond memories of a simpler life with nothing to do but laugh and love and pass the time.

"I know they say you can't go home again

I just had to come back one last time

Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam

But these handprints on the front steps are mine.

I thought if I could touch this place so freely

This brokenness inside me might start healing

Out here it's like I'm someone else

I thought that maybe I could find myself...

If I could just come in I swear I'll leave

Won't take nothin' but a memory

From the house that built me."

~Miranda Lambert

poison

Someone I care about is slowly poisoning himself.  As I've been observing this and struggling with it, it has occurred to me that poisoning is pretty much always a choice, isn't it?  We introduce a poison to our system, and we choose to ignore or maybe even accept the warning signs of the damage it will cause.  We learn to prefer the feeling of the poison inside of us than the feelings of being without the poison.

The thing is - that poison might be alcohol or drugs (street or prescription), but it might just as easily be negativity, pessimism, lying, or a number of other things.  At some point, the poison felt foreign to us.  It felt wrong, unnatural, out of place.....but we kept forcing it into our lives until it felt normal.  Then the pendulum swang in the other direction so that NOT having that poison ingested feels wrong, unnatural, out of place...

Unlike the poison of negativity or the poison of lying or cheating.....my friend's poison is going to kill him.  And before that, it is probably going to drive away every person who ever cared about him.  Which will probably make him feel alone and desperate and craving more poison. 

How do you make someone see that they are full of light and possibility and that they are covering it up with their poison?

I can't quite finish this blog entry because there is no tidy conclusion or summary.....I'm just sad about it and had to shoot it out there into the world.

I'll Take Mine

As I drove in to work this morning, several sights caught my attention.  I saw a mother walking her son out to a pickup van for disabled students.  He must have been in his mid-teens, and he had some sort of physical disability that clearly gave him difficulty in walking and carrying himself with an even gait.  It made me burst into tears immediately, as I imagined for a moment the struggles they both have probably experienced in their lives.  Then I saw a couple bitterly fighting in their car.  I've been a part of that couple, and I know how it feels to hear harsh and cruel words from someone you love, who you thought loved you enough not to cross certain lines.  I saw a woman driving alone, sobbing.

It was a fast-paced series of reminders (my commute to work is only about 4 minutes) that there are so many hurting in our world, and that sometimes just making it to your school or job each morning can be a battle, a trial...that each of us has our own sources of pain and joy that the rest of the world may not realize or take into account as they deal with us in whatever fashion they might choose on that given day.

Some would say I've experienced a lot of heartache, stress, and bad luck in my life.  That would be fair to say.  But I'm a lucky girl.  The experiences I've had have made me stronger, wiser, more resilient, and more grateful for the myriad blessings that surround me even on my weakest, most hopeless day.  I think that, overall, joy is a choice.  Each of us must deal with obstacles, temptations, and unfortunate circumstances.  But we get to choose how we react to them too. 

There is a saying about how if we all threw our problems into a big pile, we'd each probably take back our own once we saw everyone else's burdens and struggles.  I know I'd take mine back.  And hopefully there will always be days when I try to share someone else's too, just to ease their load a bit. 

endings

Friends, lovers, bosses, even family - they all comprise relationships in our lives.  They all require effort and intent.  And quite an awful lot of them....end.

Some people leave without us wanting them to, and we spend endless time and energy trying to understand why they made that choice, trying to self-reflect and determine whether and what we did to send them away.

Some people have to be practically fired from their role in our lives, as we reiterate over and over again that we no longer wish to participate in the relationship for various reasons.

Some people just quietly drift away and we opt to not reach out to them to try to reel them back in.

Some leave abruptly with harsh words and broken promises.

Some leave at the end of a long, long road fraught with agonizing analysis and second chances and second guessing.

The fact is, most of the relationships in our lives are fleeting and temporary, whether they last a few months or several years.  Hopefully, if we are wise, we look back and consider what we liked about that relationship, what we want to carry forward with us, what we liked about who we were while in that relationship, and we ever-so-slightly adjust ourselves and our outlook and our expectations in preparation for the remaining chapters of our lives.  Likewise, we reflect on what we didn't like, what we cannot accept, and what we are happy to be free of...and hopefully we don't let ourselves get wrapped up in those same things down the road. 

Ever evolving, ever learning, ever stretching and growing...

Roll the Bones

It seems like about once a year I fall into a deep-thinking rut where I begin to question what I'm doing with my life and whether it is enough and whether I am where I'm "supposed" to be.  Specifically, I think about my life's work and whether it is aligned with my personal passions and interests and talents.  I went to school to study psychology and eventually women's studies and became very passionate about issues of equality and social justice.  I spent a lot of time and energy studying cycles of abuse, sexual assault, and women's health as it relates to childbirth.  Will there ever come a time when I can devote my energy and time to those things I care the most about in this life?

Sometimes I'm able to feed those passions and reap intrinsic rewards by volunteering.  I've offered up time at Ohio State's Rape Education and Prevention Program, at a freestanding birth center, at Equality Ohio, and have tutored ESL kindergarten students at my children's school.  Those experiences have enabled me to help women give a voice to their experiences of rape and anonymously share their stories that have been hidden far too long.  Those experiences have enabled me to help women get insurance coverage for the homebirth they've always dreamed of, have enabled me to help affect political change to recognize and protect the rights of all people, have enabled me to look into the face of a 5 year old and see them smile as they realize they are learning something and they ARE smart and they DO have a future.  I've always been told that once you affiliate your passions with extrinsic rewards (i.e., salary, job title), your interest diminishes somewhat.  So maybe it is best to do the juggling act and fill in on the side where I can.

Still, when I get a newsletter from the local women's shelter and begin to cry while reading their "wish list" of items (stamps, cell phones, baby wipes, tampons), it's because I am thinking about how these women have been stripped of every sense of security and safety and the everyday rituals we wrap around us like security blankets.  It's because I want to do MORE.  I want to change lives.  I want to contribute to the revolution.  :)  Yet as a single mother of two that works full-time and owns a home, I find my time and energy are indeed limited.

Why am I here?  In the words of one of my favorite bands, Rush, that question could be answered with a simple "Because you're here, roll the bones."  Go with it.  Take a chance, stretch yourself a little further.  Remain open.  Do better.  Try harder.  Roll the bones.

The birth of Noah and the rebirth of his Mommy

Words seem completely inadequate for describing certain things in life.  The birth of my son is one such example.  Having approached that day with the usual primal concerns for his safety, health, and well-being, I was also laden with: a) a deep desire to actually experience childbirth as it was intended (my first child came via c-section), and b) a nagging fear that I couldn’t possibly replicate the love I already felt for my daughter.

The birthing experience itself was immensely important to me as I was that rare breed of woman who was eager and ready to be pregnant and to give birth, but not so sure about the whole “being a parent” thing that comes with it.  I took great care to prepare a peaceful and supportive birthing environment so that I might optimize the chances of a positive birth experience this time around.

The concerns about whether I could love him “the same” came from having experienced a love for my daughter that reached into the depths of my soul and controlled my every movement, word, and decision in life.  How could I possibly love another child THAT much?  I remember taking her picture to the hospital, feeling guilty for what I was “doing” to her – making her share the spotlight with another little somebody.

I remember seeing the midwife put on her “get in the trenches” gear and knew that….yeah…this was really gonna happen.  The natural way.  I felt that strange, out-of-body experience whereby you choose to transport excruciating pain and agony into a life force.  Literally.  I remember – in a weak moment - telling my mom to kill me, that I just wanted to die.  That’s how badly I experienced the weight of that pain. 

Noah came into this world surrounded by love and family – perhaps more family than most gals might be comfortable with in attendance.  ;) My dad filmed it - Van Halen’s “Right Now” blaring in his bad ear (courtesy of my mix CD I’d prepared just for pushing babies out!).  They placed him on my chest/abdomen and it happened all over again for me. 

I’ve been in love before…and know that experience of hours, days, or weeks building up until that moment where you step back and realize, “I’ve fallen in love.”  You don’t have that much time when it comes to your baby.  It is that escalation of intense longing, emotion, and devotion all crammed into a millisecond.  He appeared and love hit me like the kickback of a shotgun hits you in the shoulder and you aren’t expecting it to knock your entire body off balance.  In one moment….one moment….I knew I would spend the rest of my life loving him, protecting him, providing for him, hanging on his every word, and thanking God for allowing me to assist in a miracle.

When I think about Noah’s entrance into my life, I’m often reminded of a song by Pat Green called “Wave on Wave”.  My marriage was in turmoil, I was changing jobs, and my faith in myself, my God, and my life was a little rattled. 

          You came upon me wave on wave

          You’re the reason I’m still here

          Am I the one you were sent to save?

          You came upon me wave on wave.

          The clouds broke and the angels cried,
          You ain't gotta walk alone,
          That's why he put me in your way,
          And you came upon me wave on wave.

Happy Birthday sweet Noah.  I love you immeasurably.

The Perpetual Victim

‎"Everyone is personally responsible for his own actions. In pitying ourselves, we say, "Poor thing, suffering for your own sins! It's alright if you sinned. You shouldn't have to suffer for it." Self-pity actually involves lying to oneself...& is incurable w/o repentance. Repentance..is the difference b/t self-pity & sorrow. Self-pity involves no repentance, while godly sorrow produces repentance." ~Martin G. Collins


Lord knows we've all been there - it's easy to wallow in the depths of self pity when you feel that everything has gone wrong and that there is no hope.  It's an addictive place.  But if you're not careful, it becomes a comfortable place and you can nest there quite nicely. 

The spectrum between beating yourself up for things you've done wrong....all the way to blaming anyone but yourself for your lot in life....is an interesting line to walk.  It always seems that people reside on the wrong end of the spectrum.  The ones that deserve more credit are the ones who beat themselves up and can't forgive themselves.  The ones that have purposefully or maliciously caused drama or pain are often the ones who focus on what everyone else has done to them, with no sense of self-reflection.  Do both ends of the spectrum deserve peace, forgiveness, and healing? Absolutely.  But I have found that you will reconcile your own wrongdoings much more quickly and effectively if you approach it with a grain of reality and naked honesty as you look in the mirror and see where that finger is pointing. 

First Time Blogger

The truth is...sometimes there are just so many thoughts, so many feelings, so many questions, that you just need someplace for them to go.  Whether another soul ever hears them or not is - at times - irrelevant.  It's having a voice that is cathartic and liberating to me.  So I decided to stick my toe in the online blogging community.  When so much of our world has become "virtual" it seems that an online arena is a perfectly safe place for words, which don't require boundaries or restrictions anyhow.  So I guess I'm a blogger.  Starting.Right.Now. :)