I sat quietly for a while today, listening to the rain, and the thunder. Oh, how I love that thunder. I just need to stop sometimes and let the world swirl around me, hoping it will settle at some point, and it did. Still, the familiar litany of question about my existence loop in my mind. But it felt different now. I am feeling like I am starting to see where things are going, where I want things to be. I am seeing the work I still need to do.
I don't know...
There is an air of sadness to it all for me as well, or maybe it's some psychic exhaustion, and that would be okay too. I need it. It will help make me stronger for the next go-round.
We need the cycle, even though we have been indoctrinated to believe that this is somehow wrong. There is no upswing without a downturn, is there? I mean, everything cycles, isn't that mother nature's lesson to us over and over and over again.
I say.... go with it. Don't fight it. Let it wash over you, and wring you out. You need to. The worst thing to do is to fight it, because it will eventually run it's course, and leave you in a better place.
It reminds me of when I was a little girl swimming in the ocean. I used to get so anxious when the big waves would come. I tried to run out of the water to escape them but they always caught me and slammed me down hard. It wasn't until I finally let myself be pulled by the wave's approach that I realized it was better to run toward them.
Of course it is always a good idea to make sure there is a life guard or two at the shore making sure you are not dragged out to sea.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Sunday, March 07, 2010
I'd like to think
I often assure there is something distracting in the background of my life to comfort me in those moments between moments. I need a point in the distance to focus upon so my head is not engulfed in the chaos of my whirling world. Although rumination demands residence in all my empty spaces.
I am reminded of one of our last visits. He was in a hospital room, incredibly pensive and deep in thought. I assumed his lengthy stay in the hospital was starting to wear on him, although in retrospect I think he was entering a phase of consciousness we will all enter one day. I clamored on and on about the kids, and our summer activities trying my best to stave off the silence. He smiled a little and nodded appropriately, as a preoccupied father does when trying to pay attention to a child.
Before I left, I asked him if he wanted me to put on his music. He declined, telling me he just wanted to be with his thoughts, he just wanted to think. I almost insisted on the distraction, I just couldn't bear to leave him in that room in silence, but he was adamant. In that moment I realized that he had come to terms with whatever his future held and was comfortable within his own mind, something I try so hard to be.
I'd like to think he spent the rest of that afternoon roaming the garden of knowledge he cultivated throughout his lifetime. I'd like to think he wandered aimlessly in the meadow of his dreams. I'd like to think he swam in memories with loving nostalgia. I'd like to think he reveled in his private cerebration celebration.
I'd like to think.
I am reminded of one of our last visits. He was in a hospital room, incredibly pensive and deep in thought. I assumed his lengthy stay in the hospital was starting to wear on him, although in retrospect I think he was entering a phase of consciousness we will all enter one day. I clamored on and on about the kids, and our summer activities trying my best to stave off the silence. He smiled a little and nodded appropriately, as a preoccupied father does when trying to pay attention to a child.
Before I left, I asked him if he wanted me to put on his music. He declined, telling me he just wanted to be with his thoughts, he just wanted to think. I almost insisted on the distraction, I just couldn't bear to leave him in that room in silence, but he was adamant. In that moment I realized that he had come to terms with whatever his future held and was comfortable within his own mind, something I try so hard to be.
I'd like to think he spent the rest of that afternoon roaming the garden of knowledge he cultivated throughout his lifetime. I'd like to think he wandered aimlessly in the meadow of his dreams. I'd like to think he swam in memories with loving nostalgia. I'd like to think he reveled in his private cerebration celebration.
I'd like to think.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
a first...
Finding the movie ticket ripped into tiny pieces on my bedroom floor, I realized that maybe his heart was hurting a bit more than he had led me to believe. I gathered the bits of paper and put them into my jewelry box, committed to keeping the memento but for another reason entirely.
The movie ticket was from my son's first date with a girl he's had a crush on since kindergarten. The kids were all rehearsing for their talent show, and when she saw him playing with his band she decided she liked him. So the passing of messages between friends began, as is typical of middle school communicating, and a date was made. He twisted with self-doubt and insecurity the night before when he had to call her to formally set the date.
"What if her parents hate me? What if her dad won't let me talk to her???"
He was beside himself, and I sat there, perplexed at who this young man was as the tearful sobs released uncontrollably.
Her dad answered and was very nice and told him that she was at dance class and she would return his call soon. He hung up the phone relieved.
She called him about 15 minutes later and his face lit up with excitement. He looked at me like an actor needing his next line in a play, fear having flooded his memory, so I whispered to him to ask her how her dance class was. When his voice became steady and strong, I left the room to give him privacy. They chatted for a while, and then he came to find me so I can talk to her mom about the date. We decided on the early movie and pizza afterward and I assured her mother I would be chaperoning.
He was such a gentleman. The way he opened the car door for her, asked her about her family, bought her the movie ticket and popcorn, and got her pizza. He even threw her plate away after they were finished which astounded me since cleaning up is definitely not something in his repertoire or so I thought. He walked her to her door and bid her goodnight.
"Did you have fun?"
"Oh, yea mom."
"Did I stay in the background enough, babe."
"Yea... you were fine."
"Good. I'm glad you had fun, she's a really nice girl."
"I have an idea of what I can give her for Valentine's Day. She said one of her guitar strings broke. I'm going to find out which one, and give it to her."
My heart swelled with love and pride for his romantic inclination. I could barely find words for him on our way home as I wasn't used to the people in the car, a young man basking in the glow of his first date, and his mother. When we got home he took the movie stubs and put them on the fridge announcing how he intends to keep them forever.
I picked him up from school the Monday after the big Saturday night date and I noticed his face was a bit long and sad. I wondered if maybe he endured some teasing from the other boys about his weekend.
"She doesn't want to date me anymore mom."
What? I thought. What do you mean?!?!?! Why wouldn't she want to date him anymore? What did he do wrong?? What did I miss????? I was crushed. Just crushed. I knew he was looking for my reaction to gauge how deep the wound should be so I kept my cool and fought back my own tears.
"Why? What happened?"
"Nothing. She just told me she didn't want to date me anymore then she got up from the lunch table and went to sit with her friends."
"Are you upset?"
"Nah. Whatever."
For the first time in my life with my son, I was thankful for his fleeting attention. Maybe he grew bored of the whole event and just decided to let it all go. Maybe, in fact, he welcomed her girlish fickleness and was glad the whole exercise was over. I tried to explain to him that girls that age are often unsure of themselves and maybe she just couldn't handle the whole experience. I didn't want to get into it too much with him for fear my emotions would come spilling out. He seemed ok, and I didn't want to push him into a place he didn't seem to be going.
We didn't really talk about it much after that and he does seem ok about the whole thing. I did tell him that I was very proud of the way he behaved before, during and after the date, and that he showed me he has matured.
And then I found that little pile of shredded movie tickets.
Sigh.
The movie ticket was from my son's first date with a girl he's had a crush on since kindergarten. The kids were all rehearsing for their talent show, and when she saw him playing with his band she decided she liked him. So the passing of messages between friends began, as is typical of middle school communicating, and a date was made. He twisted with self-doubt and insecurity the night before when he had to call her to formally set the date.
"What if her parents hate me? What if her dad won't let me talk to her???"
He was beside himself, and I sat there, perplexed at who this young man was as the tearful sobs released uncontrollably.
Her dad answered and was very nice and told him that she was at dance class and she would return his call soon. He hung up the phone relieved.
She called him about 15 minutes later and his face lit up with excitement. He looked at me like an actor needing his next line in a play, fear having flooded his memory, so I whispered to him to ask her how her dance class was. When his voice became steady and strong, I left the room to give him privacy. They chatted for a while, and then he came to find me so I can talk to her mom about the date. We decided on the early movie and pizza afterward and I assured her mother I would be chaperoning.
He was such a gentleman. The way he opened the car door for her, asked her about her family, bought her the movie ticket and popcorn, and got her pizza. He even threw her plate away after they were finished which astounded me since cleaning up is definitely not something in his repertoire or so I thought. He walked her to her door and bid her goodnight.
"Did you have fun?"
"Oh, yea mom."
"Did I stay in the background enough, babe."
"Yea... you were fine."
"Good. I'm glad you had fun, she's a really nice girl."
"I have an idea of what I can give her for Valentine's Day. She said one of her guitar strings broke. I'm going to find out which one, and give it to her."
My heart swelled with love and pride for his romantic inclination. I could barely find words for him on our way home as I wasn't used to the people in the car, a young man basking in the glow of his first date, and his mother. When we got home he took the movie stubs and put them on the fridge announcing how he intends to keep them forever.
I picked him up from school the Monday after the big Saturday night date and I noticed his face was a bit long and sad. I wondered if maybe he endured some teasing from the other boys about his weekend.
"She doesn't want to date me anymore mom."
What? I thought. What do you mean?!?!?! Why wouldn't she want to date him anymore? What did he do wrong?? What did I miss????? I was crushed. Just crushed. I knew he was looking for my reaction to gauge how deep the wound should be so I kept my cool and fought back my own tears.
"Why? What happened?"
"Nothing. She just told me she didn't want to date me anymore then she got up from the lunch table and went to sit with her friends."
"Are you upset?"
"Nah. Whatever."
For the first time in my life with my son, I was thankful for his fleeting attention. Maybe he grew bored of the whole event and just decided to let it all go. Maybe, in fact, he welcomed her girlish fickleness and was glad the whole exercise was over. I tried to explain to him that girls that age are often unsure of themselves and maybe she just couldn't handle the whole experience. I didn't want to get into it too much with him for fear my emotions would come spilling out. He seemed ok, and I didn't want to push him into a place he didn't seem to be going.
We didn't really talk about it much after that and he does seem ok about the whole thing. I did tell him that I was very proud of the way he behaved before, during and after the date, and that he showed me he has matured.
And then I found that little pile of shredded movie tickets.
Sigh.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
700
This is my 700th post on this blog... wow.. 700!
Every so often, I look back at things I have written over the years. I have chronicled a good portion of my life on my little purple corner of cyber space. My favorite posts are about my sons, of course. I forget the things I have gone through with them, or things I felt. Pictures are great, but reading what I felt or thought during a certain time brings me right back into the moment.
It took a long time for me to even read the posts I wrote while Jay was sick and in the hospital. Maybe I'll let him read them someday. He has some memory about those dark days in the Intensive Care Unit, mostly of things we have told him, but maybe I'll share with him the words I wrote while sitting next to him while he slept, as I prayed and prayed.
Such a long time ago...
Now, he's this preteen that went out on a date, and has hair on his upper lip. He plays an electric guitar and is in a rock band. He's taller than me, and he's still growing, and he takes a little too much pleasure in busting his little brother. And speaking of his little brother, my baby, is no longer a baby anymore.
Where does the time go? Why does it go so darn fast?
The other thing I notice when I look back at the posts over the years, is all the wonderful people this blog has brought into my life. Your words and comments, and friendship are such a gift.
Thank you.
xo
Every so often, I look back at things I have written over the years. I have chronicled a good portion of my life on my little purple corner of cyber space. My favorite posts are about my sons, of course. I forget the things I have gone through with them, or things I felt. Pictures are great, but reading what I felt or thought during a certain time brings me right back into the moment.
It took a long time for me to even read the posts I wrote while Jay was sick and in the hospital. Maybe I'll let him read them someday. He has some memory about those dark days in the Intensive Care Unit, mostly of things we have told him, but maybe I'll share with him the words I wrote while sitting next to him while he slept, as I prayed and prayed.
Such a long time ago...
Now, he's this preteen that went out on a date, and has hair on his upper lip. He plays an electric guitar and is in a rock band. He's taller than me, and he's still growing, and he takes a little too much pleasure in busting his little brother. And speaking of his little brother, my baby, is no longer a baby anymore.
Where does the time go? Why does it go so darn fast?
The other thing I notice when I look back at the posts over the years, is all the wonderful people this blog has brought into my life. Your words and comments, and friendship are such a gift.
Thank you.
xo
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Just EAT ME already.
Write of Passage Challenge:
Anne Lamott tells us, "Listen to your broccoli, and your broccoli will tell you how to eat it." She's referring to that inner voice that we hardly ever hear anymore.
_____________
When trying to find enough quiet in my life to actually listen to my broccoli, I realize that I drown out any smattering of quiet that dare come my way. I fill every second of my life with some sort of ... noise.
So for me, the question in this assignment wasn't so much about what my broccoli was saying, but why I am I afraid to listen to my broccoli? Why am I drowning it out? What is stopping me from listening?
And then it popped into my head.
Fear.
The little death.
Fear of failing,
Fear of succeeding,
Fear of trying, of not trying, of doing, of not doing, being or not being, just
Fear.
I realize it is this fear that stops me in my tracks. Stops me from moving forward, or backward or from moving at all. It keeps me in the same place, and if I stay right here, and risk nothing then I lose nothing, and I gain nothing, but still I lose nothing. This little mind loop is what the fear fuels, and it's just ridiculous when I read it on this screen, but in my head it is very real and completely rational. I suppose it's a dysfunctional belief that is made up of all the fragments of pain that have accumulated throughout my lifetime which has been nourished by this fear.
If I don't actually listen to the broccoli then the possibilities of how to eat it are endless, and since they are endless, then I can't possibly begin to figure out how to eat it, so I don't. I just there and stare at it and starve.
But this is just the lie in which I hide, because I know what it would say, and I have known all along. It's no longer a quiet voice trying to find me amid the cacophony, it's the voice I hear the loudest, every day, and it's screaming.
Just EAT ME already.
Anne Lamott tells us, "Listen to your broccoli, and your broccoli will tell you how to eat it." She's referring to that inner voice that we hardly ever hear anymore.
_____________
When trying to find enough quiet in my life to actually listen to my broccoli, I realize that I drown out any smattering of quiet that dare come my way. I fill every second of my life with some sort of ... noise.
So for me, the question in this assignment wasn't so much about what my broccoli was saying, but why I am I afraid to listen to my broccoli? Why am I drowning it out? What is stopping me from listening?
And then it popped into my head.
Fear.
The little death.
Fear of failing,
Fear of succeeding,
Fear of trying, of not trying, of doing, of not doing, being or not being, just
Fear.
I realize it is this fear that stops me in my tracks. Stops me from moving forward, or backward or from moving at all. It keeps me in the same place, and if I stay right here, and risk nothing then I lose nothing, and I gain nothing, but still I lose nothing. This little mind loop is what the fear fuels, and it's just ridiculous when I read it on this screen, but in my head it is very real and completely rational. I suppose it's a dysfunctional belief that is made up of all the fragments of pain that have accumulated throughout my lifetime which has been nourished by this fear.
If I don't actually listen to the broccoli then the possibilities of how to eat it are endless, and since they are endless, then I can't possibly begin to figure out how to eat it, so I don't. I just there and stare at it and starve.
But this is just the lie in which I hide, because I know what it would say, and I have known all along. It's no longer a quiet voice trying to find me amid the cacophony, it's the voice I hear the loudest, every day, and it's screaming.
Just EAT ME already.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Put the candy bar down, and back away...slowly...
I have been slowly putting on some weight these last two years, and really need to lose it. For some reason, I let the stress of life get to me, and went back to the old habits I thought were gone forever.
I have an incredibly distorted body image. I truly have no idea what I look like most of the time, and I avoid mirrors and images of myself as much as possible. I know I don't just wake up fat, it takes time to get here, but this is not entirely true. I kind of do “wake up” fat one day because of my distortion, and when I do, I am so hyper-conscious about my body I can barely function, especially in public and it's horrible and it has to stop.
I have always lost the most weight by watching the carbohydrate intake, so this time around I'm going to try the Medifast plan. I have done this in the past with some success, most recently a few months ago, and lost 15 pounds. The diet ended on Halloween. Do I even have to explain why?
The good thing about this diet is that it works fast. The problem with this diet is that the "meals" are minuscule to say the least. You do get to actually eat a food meal, which consists of a protein and greens, called the "lean and green." When I was at my healthiest and working out, I would eat like this anyway, so it's something familiar.
I have an incredibly distorted body image. I truly have no idea what I look like most of the time, and I avoid mirrors and images of myself as much as possible. I know I don't just wake up fat, it takes time to get here, but this is not entirely true. I kind of do “wake up” fat one day because of my distortion, and when I do, I am so hyper-conscious about my body I can barely function, especially in public and it's horrible and it has to stop.
I have always lost the most weight by watching the carbohydrate intake, so this time around I'm going to try the Medifast plan. I have done this in the past with some success, most recently a few months ago, and lost 15 pounds. The diet ended on Halloween. Do I even have to explain why?
The good thing about this diet is that it works fast. The problem with this diet is that the "meals" are minuscule to say the least. You do get to actually eat a food meal, which consists of a protein and greens, called the "lean and green." When I was at my healthiest and working out, I would eat like this anyway, so it's something familiar.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
This year I will...
lose the weight I have gained and find my body that I once adored.
find a balance between art and life.
make something beautiful with my hands.
finish writing and editing the two books in the "hopper."
finish editing the poetry and ready it for print.
take myself seriously as a writer and commit to my art.
rekindle my spirit and be the person on the outside that I am on the inside.
release the negativity.
be the person my children want to be and be with.
be able to show my husband that I really do love him with all my heart, and stop blaming him for what I've become.
stop blaming everyone else.
find a balance between art and life.
make something beautiful with my hands.
finish writing and editing the two books in the "hopper."
finish editing the poetry and ready it for print.
take myself seriously as a writer and commit to my art.
rekindle my spirit and be the person on the outside that I am on the inside.
release the negativity.
be the person my children want to be and be with.
be able to show my husband that I really do love him with all my heart, and stop blaming him for what I've become.
stop blaming everyone else.
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