The Great Pig Race

I spent the better part of my morning thinking about pig races. Yes, you read correctly, Pig Races.  My English teacher, Mr. Arnold​, used to make a surprise guest appearance during morning announcements every now and again, rattling our auditory senses and imaginative centers with a great Pig Race.

Classrooms would go silent while all the students listened to the commentary, describing the eager contestants.  We'd follow the race in the trails of our minds, down hallway B, past the library, through the gymnasium, swinging past the canteen, running from the Biology teacher.  We'd all cheer as they crossed the finished line at the office and puzzle the pieces all together to determine the winner.  The hook was that the winner wasn't announced until much later in the day... oh the anticipation.  I actually remember common room discussions and debates about the race and who the winner would be.  Some days (okay, many days), I miss school.  Most of all, I miss my mentors like Mr. Arnold.

I giggled all morning reminiscing about the great Pig Races (begging my kids to stop looking at me like that), and realized how prevalent they are in my every day life right now.  Everything is a Pig Race.    All the contestants (kids, career, home, schools, relationships, friendships) are running the race. They each have their own colored bib and numbers in the race.  The pigs run the gammets every day, and everyone seems to have their own crack at being the commentator.   My mind is a well worn track begging for blue ribbons and euphoria.

Truth be told... I love the race.  I love the excitement, I love the wonder of who's on the right track and of course, I struggle with who's running the wrong direction entirely.  I have gratitude for the Pig Race - despite the never ending need to know who won by the end of the day.

That's one happy little pig... I wonder who won?  

Learning Is Half The Battle

There's been an abundance of discussion regarding behavior and communication in my house of late. Let me note my favorite phrases lately:

1. Be better. 
2. Stop It. Just stop it. 
3. It's okay to be wrong. 
4. Why don't you take a minute, think about that, and return when you can have a reasonable discussion. 
5. We do not run on telepathy, please use your words. 
6. Please give me ALL the information before creating an unnecessary situation. 
7. We all have choices. 

I will stop there. I could go on all night, really I could, about all of the lessons I want to teach my children; of how I want them to be better people, to communicate with kindness, without ill intention, to know what they need to express and how to fundamentally get their point across without belittling another in that accomplishment. I can only teach what I have learned, and as I hear from the outside a lot lately - "we can only know what we know" (or as my son reminds me, "knowing is half the battle").

Friday afternoon, before my weekend started, I posted this on the ever popular boredom killer we all know as facebook: "This weekend, please remember: we are all free to choose our behavior, but we are not free from the consequence. Be better. That's a choice too". It was not intended for self reflection. But by Friday night, I was eating my own words. They tasted like crow. It was a necessary, humbling experience. "Be better, be better, be better..." Oh, but how I didn't want to be. I wanted to be right, and stubborn, and justified, and did I mention, right? In the end, I wasn't exactly right... (not entirely wrong, but none the less, not right) Dammit. It was hard for me to look at what I have been trying to teach my children, and know, we, as adults, are far from done with our own lessons. I am far from done learning.

Here is to leading by example, and whatever the hell the opposite of hypocrisy is... Here is to sincerity (thank you google). Hat's off to learning, and of course, to being better.

Onward. Choose wisely.

I Did My Job

Yesterday, I was a good parent.

Let me explain this to you.  I sat at a table for four hours, cramming math learning down the throat of a child with dyscalculia.

dys·cal·cu·li·a
ˌdiskalˈkyo͞olēə/
noun: dyscalculia
severe difficulty in making arithmetical calculations, as a result of brain disorder.

I taught, repetitively, checking work, redoing questions, redoing the same question sometimes, over and over.  I explained, I walked away, I went back, I checked, I taught, I checked. The answers came out right.  I prepared a student for a test.  I practiced until he was ready, until I was satisfied.  And, yesterday, I was a math teacher... 

Wait... didn't I just say yesterday I was a good parent? 

Yesterday, I was a good parent according to the definition of a math teacher that told me I hadn't been doing my job as a parent when I wasn't being a math teacher.  

Let me tell you about the rest of my day yesterday.  I went to work to my full time job (yes, 8 hours a day, 5 days a week).  Graciously, my employer allows me to leave work for half an hour to take my children to school.  So I did.  I took my children to school, had a morning conversation with them, chatted about their days and we even laughed some.  We talked about schedules and meetings coming up, who worked last night and who didn't.  

I had to interrupt my morning to meet with both a councellor and student support staff member regarding my child's learning.  I returned to work... I worked... and again interrupted my day for a third meeting back at the school with a teacher - a teacher who proceeded to tell me that my child failed her math class because of his own habits (to which I agreed) and because I failed to do my job as a parent (ummmm excuse me?).  She assured me she had done nothing wrong as a teacher in a class she despised, and checking homework, ensuring understanding and passing grades were not her job,  In fact, she told me, it was no longer their job to care in high school if students passed their classes - that was my  job.  

And as I sat there staring at her like she had eight heads covered in snakes, sure she might turn me to stone, she said to me, "after all, this is your special needs child, not mine".  That was my moment of horror.  That was the dam gates opening and tears filled my eyes, and I found myself  and my child being belittled by a teacher who, frankly, didn't give a damn. If I, at that moment, felt lost and horrible in her classroom, what must my child have gone through trying to understand the most difficult thing in his life sitting in this chair?  I am an adult and her words were like slices of a knife in my soul. "didn't do my job as a parent?"   

After this meeting, I returned to work, and stared at the monitor on my desk, and cried.  I tried to find some things to occupy my time, and then I cried some more.  Eventually, I went home.  I laid in my bed in the dark, contemplating my job as a parent, and again, I cried.  I waited for the kids to come home.  I pasted on a half smile, we talked about their days.  I talked about math with one while the other got ready for work. 

I talked with my child.  We talked about responsibilities.  We talked about time.  We talked about jobs and the future.  We talked about happiness and joy, and about failure and heartache and hard things to decide.  We talked about preparation and consequences and getting the results we want for ourselves.  

I went out and did the sidewalks, charged a battery on a frozen truck, and took a moment to myself to breath in some very cold air, 

I came in, took the young one to work, returned and watched my oldest working at his decision for math.  I taught - and I was a good parent according to the math teacher's definition. 

Let me tell you what didn't get done.  I didn't tidy the living room, I didn't do any laundry, I didn't pay any bills or do any paperwork.  I didn't even make supper - we all found our own way to nourishment.  Hold on here... I didn't do my job as a parent... but I sure as hell did my job as a math teacher.  How did that happen? 

I took a break from the math, leaving the student on his own, and I went to have a screaming hot shower, thinking of all the parental things that didn't get done tonight.  I was exhausted.  

I threw on some old pajama pants and a hoodie and returned to the math table, where I spent another hour and a half (making that four and a half hours) teaching math, And when I was certain of the learning, I high fived my satisfied student who was now smiling, and I excused us both from the table.  

I picked up my youngest from work and stopped at Dairy Queen for food and treats - and don't we deserve them!  And then, for forty five minutes, I sat.  I turned off my brain, and I turned off my emotions, and I turned off all of things that didn't get done.  I didn't call anyone out of their room, I didn't ask any more questions. I sat.

And in that time, my oldest came upstairs to say thank you for my time tonight, kissed me on the cheek and told me I was the most amazing mom in the world.  

My children shouted good night to me from the basement, and loud "I love you"s.  And I went to bed.  Once or twice, they came upstairs again to say goodnight, or to talk quickly about something ridiculous, and again, to make sure I knew how much they loved me and hear how much I loved them.  I love them the most, and the longest.  

This morning, the routine started all over again.  I went to work, picked up kids, took them to school.  One played music to keep me cultured in the new words she enjoyed, one held the door for a girl when he got to the school and went inside.  They both smiled and set off for their days with confidence and knowing I love and support them.  All the while, since 11:30 yesterday morning, I have been thinking about "not doing my job as a parent".  And here is what I know.  I am a good parent.  I love my children, unconditionally and so wholly, sometimes I wonder how there is any of me left to love.  And tonight, maybe I won't check the math book, or maybe next week I won't check homework, or play teacher, or email teachers to check progress, or check in at the classroom to make sure the teacher has nothing to tell me, or has something to tell me that she can't apparently express without prompting.  I may not, as a parent, know how someone did on a test, even though I have asked three or four or eleven times.  IT DOESN'T MAKE ME A BAD PARENT. 

So, math teacher, that has ruined two days now this week, I say YOU DIDN'T DO YOUR JOB AS A TEACHER.  And that's not mine to own.  Do your own work.  And in the mean time, learn not to belittle people to make yourself feel better.  My son isn't going to come to you today and tell you exactly what he thinks of your comments or our conversation.  He will, however, come to you respectfully and thank you for the opportunity to improve his mark and work his ass off to meet the number he needs to move on.  He will not belittle your "teaching" or lack there of.  He will take the generous opportunity given to him, and he will do so with a smile.  On the way to the room in which you will have him rewrite an exam, he will probably hold the door for you.  He will say please and thank you, and when he is done, he will return the paper to you, satisfied that he tried.  And tomorrow or the next day, or even next week, he will do it all over again, two more times.  And every day following in the hallway, he will not ever present to you as rude or disrespectful.  He will always return a friendly greeting, he will always carry on with a smile.  

Do you know why?  Because I did my job as a parent.  That's why.  

 now it's your turn. 

Get On Your Soap Box

I had a very long over due visit with my dear amica stretta last night. It was a soul talk I was longing for and desperately needed.  I miss our talks when we go too long, but pick up like never missed a day.

We wandered into some emotional waters,and something that's been on my mind for some time, but I rarely talk about it with anyone.  It's one of those demons that hides in the shadows.  It was a dark and light discussion about end of life conversations and the role they play for us in our sense of peace when we have to go and leave it all behind.  More than once, I had tears well up that wanted to escape, and my breath caught in my throat at the thought of it all.

Without getting into any unnecessary detail, I was filled with an image of this person, struggling with the end of their life, having to say good bye, and needing to hear that it was okay (or as okay as it could be), and having absolutely no idea how to facilitate what that need was for them.  I, for a brief moment, put myself in that bed, in that illness, in that time, staring into the eyes of people who were silently begging me not to go, but knowing there was no more control for me in this ill fate.  I was devastated, and terrified, and so incredibly sad,  I pictured the one on one time I would have to spend with my children, my parents, and the love of my life saying all the things I know they would need to hear, and all of the things I would have to say.  My soul cried.  It cried for necessity, it cried for love, it cried for grace.

It stuck with me all night, and I woke up with it still ominous and present.  And perhaps what is urgent with me is the question of do I want to wait until there is no time left to say what needs to be heard?  What if there was no more time?  Would those people know exactly the things I held inside my soul for them? Do I need to be in a place that threatens my time to make sure I know everyone is complete, and that I am whole?

No.

So, I decided.  It's time to get on my soapbox.  It's time to say all those things that people will remember, and hopefully, smile. It is in these days of wonder, where I am healthy and young, and vibrant (oh by the way I plan on being young and healthy and vibrant at 103), that everyone will know exactly how they have touched my soul.

My children should never wonder if I am proud of them, or if they did everything just right.  My kids should never long for more time with me, and if they have, shame on me, and now is the time to lay with them and actively listen to their words, and feel their warmth as they hug me.  My friends should not go away from me wondering if we should have hugged one last time, or if that conversation was fulfilling enough to last them if it should have to,  In this time, where I am blessed with time with my parents, let me be grateful and vocal with my love for them and for every single moment.  Let me take in their wisdom and hear them when they teach me.  Trap those memories and share them.  Take time and don't be too busy, or too tired, or too grown up.  Don't ever let tomorrow be the day where I wished I'd have said "I love you" one more time.

And oh that love of mine... in a time where we have just found one another, does he know?  Does he know just how elated my soul is when he is near, and how it reaches for him even while he lays quietly with me at night?  Is he sure that there has never been, nor will there ever be again, another human that has shown me the kind of love that he has brought into my life.  Does he know the smile he loves is one he created?  May he never get to the end of the day questioning just how grateful I am for his soul, and I will never leave that sacred space we share where time is irrelevant and love knows no boundaries.

I am on my soap box today and everyday.  I promise, I am not waiting until there is no time left.  When I tell my people I love them, and thank them for sharing my time on Earth, it will not be with fear of what time is left, but of grace, that I have made every effort to share part of me with them...with you.

Get on your soapbox. I love you.

15 Intentions

Okay... I am sitting down. I have told myself I am going to write,  This is it.  It's not like I haven't tried before, actually at least twice a day, but nothing comes out.  Nothing,  I sit, I stare, I fail to write.  I have no idea what's going on inside, or why.  Maybe I have filled the space that writing used to fill with something else?

It's the fourth day of January, and I have yet to set any intentions for this new year we have embarked on.  It's been years since I have waited it out like this.  I have taken a long look at last year's intentions and weighed them out.  And now here I sit, injured knee up, forcing myself to write... So perhaps I should start with that.  2015 intentions... 15 intentions for 2015?  Yes I think so.

(seriously after the amazing year I have had, all the journey, all the adventure, and  most of all, love, do I dare ask for more?)

1. Be grateful every single damn day for my life and for the people who have chosen to be part of it.
2. Let gently go of the people who chose not to be part of my life for whatever reason, or whatever journey they are on . 
3. Remember sometimes, number one and number two are interchangeable, and there doesn't need to be fault. Sometimes. 
4. Take my kids to Jamaica. ( yeah I know this was a Christmas gift, but the tickets aren't purchased, nor a date nailed down. I very much dislike broken promises, and I will not break this one,) 
5. I am also going to venture this - Go to Alaska... I don't know why, but I really want to. 
6. Figure out what in the hell I am doing with my "career".  The path I have taken does not seem exactly correct. I am starting to wonder if I will ever find some sort of satisfaction here. 
7. Rip the carpet out of my living room.  I hate it. 
8. Be healthier. Try to remember that my body is a product of what I put in it and how I treat it. I am worth my own health... I am worth my own health. 
9. Attempt to elongate my attention span and rejuvenate my memory.  (remember the way things were before social media?  Yeah - me neither. That's a problem. 
10. Take more pictures, and quiet my mind when I can.
    (ok, seriously guilty... I just interrupted this to send two messages while I was thinking about them... hello #9... If it's any consolation, It was about pictures...and memories... )
11. Be mindful (and I read this this morning) that sometimes forever is only as long as a second. Do I really have time to wait? 
12. Read more. Its okay to have time to just read. 
13. Something else I read this morning - where there are empty spaces, fill it with love. 
14. Find more kindness within myself. For myself and for others.  This includes the words coming out of my mouth, Mindful kindness. 
15. Lessen the unnecessary clutter, rid myself of things I don't need, that I don't need to hold onto, and the things that take up space (#2, #7, #8... and actual stuff). I have a lot of stuff and seem to be emotionally attached to it.  It's never just a book, or  just a picture.  

Well there they are, fifteen intentions for this year of 2015.  

...I just noticed, not one of them says "write more".  

Here's to year of catching moments, taking time to remember them, and most of all, 

filling them with love. 

Last Year Intended...

I am looking for something I wrote a long time ago... and be dammed if I can find it. But I came across last years New Years Intentions, and I thought maybe that might be a good place to take a minute to reflect on the past year.  

I can't believe how different life has become in a year, and what lies ahead. Last December brought me quite a list...Let's see how I did:

Take more pictures. Definitely more pictures. Definitely did this! Check!

Let the found ten pounds be lost again.  Pretty sure I found ten more... ah hell...

Finish the two university courses I am taking, and re-evaluate the timing of this education and it's purpose. Didn't finish them, did re-evaluate, haven't looked back. 

Heal my heart and insecurities. Still working on this despite finding the love of my life. 

More dinners at the dinner table, preceded by grace.  This did not happen. A sign appeared in the kitchen...it's the closest we got to grace. But I think there have been more meals at the table... let's shoot for this one again. 

Rid this house renters and the purpose they fill.  Rid of renters, yes. YES! 

Listen more. Yes. Did, done, doing. 

Slow down...seriously. I think I sped up... 

Write more when it matters. I now write ONLY  when it matters. 

Resolve anger of past betrayals.  It seems I still have some residual floating about. I think this is as resolved as it's ever going to be. I find comfort in knowing there is only one me. 

Bust out the snow shoes before the snow melts. And walk, walk, walk when it's gone.  My poor shoes never made it off the wall last year.  This year, I hope they do. 

Go somewhere with a beach.  A nice beach. And boy did I! 

Three days away... alone.  Still have not managed to accomplish this. 

Trust men other than my father :)  I found one other...

See more plays - without being a character in someone else's. I saw one while in costume, and one other completely as myself.  

Hike more hills - literally, not metaphorically. Slow hiking season... didn't go once. 

Enjoy my life without always having the need for it to be better. Satisfaction is very under estimated. This may very well have been the years best lesson.  I just enjoyed. I just did, and laughed, and loved, and for goodness sakes I loved myself above all else. I was satisfied with just being me. 

With a new year around the corner, and so many changes ahead, it's time to build a new list....

But not today. I have some thinking to do. Where I was, where I am, where will I be...

Like An Old Friend...Without The Friendship

Well didn't November ever come in with a roar? (in a time where I just need some quiet whispers)
I don't really know what's going on inside me right now.  Maybe it's time to be vulnerable, and raw, and let a little bit out... maybe.

Maybe it's time to admit I am scared...terrified really. Scared of all this newness; of this inexperience.  Of this time of learning and spinning in circles not really knowing which way is up. Or down. Or even what is even-steven. Terrified. And it's gotten to me.

It's gotten to me, and I hate it, and I have no idea what to do but hold on tight and hope somewhere it levels out.

It has to level out.  My head is so full, and I am back to fighting demons everyday.  But what a great thing to know the demon...

Like an old friend...without the friendship.

And so it is... and I just need some whispering in the quiet.

Had To Get Out Of My Own Way

So here I am, the last day of my vacation in a country where life is vastly different from what I am used to in my everyday life.  It's been... culturally unforgiving; and the longer I am here, the more it makes me thinks about not only what I have back at home, but what can be different when I return to my everyday life.  I would like to think that I came here and took home with me a lesson of some sort - something that changed me... although I don't know that it has.

Has life become so busy in our realm that the magic of things no longer affects us?

I spent a few hours swimming with an endangered species.  The manatees of Belize are few in number, and still, I had the privilege of sharing their space for some time.  And as magnificent as they were, these ginormous gentle creatures, I found myself saying, "okay, what's next?".  When did I become so deficient in my attention to awe inspiring things? I can truly say I am saddened by it.

And I thought, okay, let's try this again... and we swam with sharks and sting rays and the most beautifully colored fish I have ever seen.  I watched coral sway as the ocean water washed through it, pushing life through all of it's being.  And still I looked for more... I put my head down, searching still for something to take my breath away, feeling it around me, yet not knowing where or when.  And then, right in front of me - literally right in front, swimming toward my belly (seriously I had to get out of it's way - or so I thought - maybe I had to get out of my own way - aha!) was this magnificent creature I didn't even know existed.

This gorgeous eagle ray, graceful, swift and exact, was past me, then in front of me, then behind me, and beside me, spinning me in circles of awe just to keep sight of it, but harder to see the more I looked for it.  "Get out of your own way and quit trying so damn hard..."   And there it was - over and over - if I just stopped looking for it and appreciate the fact that it's there - somewhere, still magnificent even if I can't see it every second, 

And suddenly... everything is still.

Put A Band Aid On It

Sometimes, in the reflection of time, or as I often say here, those moments of moving forward, I think about the lessons I truly learned, and I find I need to share them.  And sometimes, as any of you who read my thoughts along with me know, I share the story, and sometimes I don't.

The lesson:  Broken is an outcome of circumstance.  Healing is the choice to grow in the lesson as time moves forward.  Broken is momentary in comparison to the Healing.

The story:  ... haven't we all got our own?  Surely you don't need to revel in someone else's.

My point is, we've all been a little bit broken, but for where I stand today, I wouldn't trade this journey if it resulted in a different outcome... because this is what I have been waiting for my whole life.  So, if you find yourself a little broken, put a band aid on it (read it, write it, sing it, dance it, feel it, let the air go through it). It won't hurt forever.

The Place of Letting Go

There's a dark place I go to in my memory.  It happens every single time I hear the fighting, and the conflict and the ridiculous, self serving righteousness of ego.  It becomes raw, fast, like a hot knife in my skin making my blood boil with it's heat.... and I seethe resentment and smell of turmoil.  I can taste hatred.

I was not the first, and I am certainly not the last in this lonely place;  that place on the floor, in the wreckage of what once was, where hope fails and faith escapes us.  I know it, and I am sorry you are here.  I would tell you I know, but you won't believe me.  I could say I have heard the demons, but I know your voices aren't the same, although the language and syntax haunt me with familiarity.  I can't talk you out of the dark.  Not right now.  You won't hear it.  You can shut me out, and turn off the light.  You can turn off the world and scream of it's cruelties and madness.  You can wait for the nightmares to come.  And they will.

Here is the place, in the absence of myself, my strength and my need to hold on that I let go.  I let go of all of it - love, hope, faith, strength, will, tolerance, patience, breath... I let it all go until I was empty and there was nothing left but darkness.

It wasn't all bad in the letting go.  I let go of tolerance of being destroyed.  I let go of patience for lies and hurt. I let go of love I thought I knew, yet really didn't learn for many, many years later.  I let go of breath just to be able to breathe again.  I let go of my will to fail, and poured it into my will to get up.  I let go in the darkness to let the light in.

Knocked down seven...stood up eight...

I know this dark place you kneel in, begging for mercy.  The betrayal may be different, but the pain is the same.  I know the demons in the dark and I know what they say.  I see you shutting the door, knowing sometimes, the "right thing" isn't the right thing at all.

I want you to know, when you decide to let the light in, I will be there.  Your strength can start with my hands, helping you up - to stand for your second, or third or eighth time.  When you decide to come out of this "mess of yours", when you decide to not do this alone, I will be waiting.  You will not be alone.

I will let the light in when you let me.  I promise.

Love when you can.

Stand up eight.

And don't forget to become breathless.

Just Give Me A Nod

I think I figured it out. "It" being what's been up my ass lately... This unsettled chaotic feeling of push and pull without any give.

I am thirty eight years old and I still don't feel like I have gotten my shit together.  Don't get me wrong.  This isn't a woe is me, self pity, crappy monolog blog about how terrible my life is.  My life is pretty awesome.  The simple fact is, I dislike things hanging in the air.  I dislike incomplete, indecisiveness - and my whole world is filled with it right now.  I feel like I am still trying to figure out life every single day, and I keep waiting for someone to nod or something when I get it right.

Let's review - I didn't get my first crack at college right (nor my second for that matter:). I didn't get my first crack at marriage right. I haven't found a job/career I truly love.  Hell, I am still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up - but I never seem to stop growing up!  I struggle daily in a job I can't stand to pay bills (I know - story of 85% of society's life), tossing around things I might want to do - fighting in between sensible - it's what the job market demands- and what I want to do but can't afford because of the time and finance required - and who can take time out of their every day job to make a path to a new one?! Bah!

Let me tell you what I did get right - parenting.  I am one kick ass momma mia.  But even in that, some days, when I let thoughts creep into my head about change, and what I want, I can feel like a failure in about half of a split second.  I didn't have kids to make decisions about me... It's not my time to decide what's best for me.  Right?  Don't worry - I won't listen if you try to tell me differently or "if momma ain't happy...".  My life is more than just my own. Period. My decisions have three factors, sometimes more.

I rarely look back at the mess of relationships I left behind.  I really, truly do just see them all as lessons to get me where I am... and where I am is amazing.  I am crazy in love with the most glorious human being, whom I am sure, has been crafted just for me, and placed in my path with a big red shiny bow on his head - with a note that read "Go ahead now... Love.  Hugs and kisses - The Universe".  Now didn't I know better than to think that would come without a challenge? Of course I did.  The Universe put him three hours away from me, and said, "feel your soul ache... and figure out what that means..."

Shit.

I came home yesterday and said "what a peculiar feeling this is to stand in the place I have been all of my life, and yet it feels less and less like home every day".  How the hell did that happen??  Let me tell you how that happened - or shall I say, let me tell you how he reminded me this happened... "Home is where the heart is..."

Throw another ball in the air.

Why won't someone just nod?!

Just nod when I think of how to make this house better for us, or how I can handle things better.  Say warmer or colder when I toss around jobs or glance the right away at a .... dare I say... career...For goodness sakes shake your head no if I ever want another animal (this place is one monkey short of a zoo).  Nod when I've done something right... for the love of all things good... just give me the nod.

Seriously... just nod.

Pfewf... I feel better already.

Nightmares and Ease

I got caught up in a nightmare last night. (hello demons...it's been a while...)

Or maybe it was this morning.

I was trapped. Held down. Couldn't move.

I was screaming... silently at first, but willed myself to find some noise.  (when is this ever going to end)

No one could hear me.  And yet I kicked and screamed. (and no one came)

I woke up in a sweat so intense my sheets were soaked.  My body was hot with confusion and all the same but entirely different - icy in fear.


...



You told me you were having trouble sleeping, that the night is sometimes just too long...
"But", I said to you, "You sleep just fine when I am here; infact, you have peace?"
"Yes.  When you are here with me, I have ease."


I don't know that I entirely understood until whatever time it was that my world was shook, and my body filled with terror, felt your hand wrap around me...and there was ease.


For the first time, I wasn't alone when it was over...

Beyond grateful.

Still Standing

In the beginning of 365 Days of Gratitude, and through out my continued writing since, I have always taken an extreme amount of pride in people commenting on how much they appreciate how I put my feeling out there for everyone; to be related to, to be raw and somewhat fearless of judgement, to be...tangible.  Thing is, every time I open this space of writing, I have this draft sitting... not published, not put out there, hiding in the ranks. I hate that.  So tonight, I thought I'd share it. It's all part of the moving forward, after all.  It can't all be shiny all the time in the depths of the twisty insides among the demons when they roar.  This is part of it, part of me, one more brick out of the wall...

This (until now) unpublished post was written at the end of June, after a night of battling demons, and not only my own.  And today, I am more than grateful for just planting my feet, knowing what feels like home more and more every single day.



June 29, 2014

I thought today about giving up.  Just walking away...  I thought today about people who aren't ready to be part of something where love grows,  and how incredibly sad inside they are.  It's not my place to fix anymore,  I know that,  so I thought,  maybe for today,  I should just walk away...

The thing is,  my heart would break ...  And so would his.  And I don't really know right now that this over repaired heart could take it. I'm not so sure there would be any pieces to put back together.

And aren't I always good at that anyways?  Walking away so it's easier for someone else?  I wonder if it's ever going to be entirely my turn,  where it's not hard,  and I don't feel like part of me has to hide to let someone else shine.

Sometimes the biggest battles won are the ones you decide to just let go by silently, and watch the rewards in what doesn't fall down in it's path. 

Still standing. 

Onward now... go on. 

Didn't I Bring You This Far?

"If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plan."

I just had one of those moments... those overwhelmed, need to have everything planned, how is everything going to work out, gotta make it all work... unsettled...

I would like to say I had a poetic moment of reminder; one that caressed over me like a soft summer breeze.  But the truth is, it kinda slapped me in the face like an abrupt attempt at stopping hysteria... Just let it be. Take a deep breath, and just leave it alone.  It will come to you... whatever it is that is supposed to be, it will come in it's own time...

"After all", said the Universe," didn't I bring you this far?  Just Believe."

Sometimes the hardest thing is the faith in it all.

But then again... 

...this happened when I wasn't looking. 

Someday

There's something strange here in the silence; in the place I touch where you should be laying close to me.  My hand flat, lifelessness under it instead of a beating heart and quiet breath. If I close my eyes, I can see you there... smiling.  Your eyes full with a thousand lives behind us, and just one ahead...

When you are away from me, my soul... it reaches.  It stretches to defy the boundaries of the timelessness that has wrapped us up and holds us in quiet grace.

There is a place will I meet you. Where whispers linger, and touches are gentle like an autumn breeze.  There is a time when we will not have to be without, where time's boundaries vanish like smudged lines that outline our framed existence.  There is a drink for my soul that will quench every thirst and nourish me with all of you....

It's there for the taking...

And someday we will.

Someday.

This Too Shall Pass

It's been a dark and twisty week for me.  It happens when, every day, I have to do something that eats at who I am; that consists of everything I loathe; that I ran from, swearing to never return for the good of my own sanity.  And then I remember, "this too shall pass".

This four word phrase, learned from my momma, has been the savior in all things I have been through.  I remember her saying it.. a lot.  I recall teenage heartache, or girlie fights, or trivial poor exam results, and she would say "this too shall pass".  And wedding planning panic, and child birth pain, and late night worries of a baby's cough.. and I would hear, if only in my head, "this too shall pass".  Even in financial stress... "this too shall pass".

I remember many days that consisted of thinking I wasn't going to get up off the floor, and being reminded "this too shall pass"; through shattered pieces, fear, and tears, tomorrow is a new day.  No matter what, the sun is still climbing in tomorrow's sky, and will move the hands of time regardless of what we put in it's path.  Time will pass.

As I sat at dinner tonight with my mom, I started to hear it, but I heard it differently.  This talk about my need for independence and in it defiance; security blankets; apron strings, and bricks in walls... "This too shall pass".  This leash that holds me back from what is right in front of me... "this too shall pass".

I almost wonder if she heard it too, not so differently,  in the little bit she lets go, just enough to let me fly, and how she hurts to see me want to go... "this too shall pass".

With every struggle comes relief of it all - when the time passes, and our wisdom grows.  A time where scars cover open wounds, because nothing can remain broken forever...even a fragile heart. That too, has passed.

In Love With The Night

Sometimes I wish my eyes could snap photographs and I could print out all the memories I want to hold onto... I mean tangibly, right there to revisit - hold on to.

I laid in bed watching him in the moonlight last night.  The room was blue with nightfall, moon light streaming in, and gently laying shadows across his face.  I laid my hand on the side of his face, in all of his peacefulness, knowing very well the extent of his contented heart, and in it, my own.

Even in his sleep, he smiles.

This moment, preciously, will forever be kept in my soul.  And all over again, I am in love with the night.

Every Time I Look At You

Look at you... just standing there
The whole world still
In the summer air.
I breathe you in,
You hold my soul.
If you could see this world unfold.
Every kiss, every touch
Every moment I feel so much
The entire world is all brand new
Every time I look at you.

I have watched the sun set on your skin
This feeling inside,
Where’ve you been
Moon beams flashed in your eyes tonight
Me and you, wrapped in twightlight
You are the brightest star in my sky,
You are my every reason why.

I have to catch my breath when I see
That face of yours smiling at me
Every kiss, every touch
Every moment I feel so much
The entire world is all brand new
Every time I look at you.

I never knew
This love till now
Just looking at you
You’ve shown me how.
The things that I see,
I’ve never known
I’m down on my knees
Don’t ever go.

Every kiss, every touch
Every moment I feel so much
The entire world is all brand new
Every time I look at you.

Every time...
Don’t you see.
My soul is home.
This is you and me.
Close your eyes, see it too
What I see, when I see you.

It's My Turn

There is that place between sleep and awake, that foggy state of consciousness and dream. That place where dreams wander and thoughts escape with reckless abandon.  That is a place where souls are free and dancing on moonbeams is common place.  Whispers are soaked with sweetness, and pleas are heard by forces too great to comprehend.  That is the place where one is safe in a home gifted to us by our soul’s intentions.  A place to just let it all be...

That is where I wished for you; where I prayed.

And here I stand, in great serendipitous wonder of how this love could be.

I heard it first inside my soul and I whispered it out loud, carefully, in that moment of realization.

“It’s my turn.”

It’s my turn...

Joy Should Be Anything But Quiet

It's not always easy, this whole moving forward thing... especially when you don't trust in yourself.  Thing is, kids, I am not talking about me this time... but there is someone that needs to hear this. 

Just because you've decided to move forward, doesn't mean you've done something wrong.  It just means you've chosen to be happy.  And your joy doesn't need to be a secret. That's like hiding under an umbrella in the glorious sun after the rain.

Turn your face towards the sun, and let the shadows fall behind.