In This Moment

It's been almost five months since my last entry. I was optimistic about holding myself accountable regarding meditation, yoga, showing up here, and crochet.

 I can happily say I crocheted, a little. 
The rest of the list continued about as sporadically as my previous post mentions...in little spurts throughout my daily activities.  I am grateful for the moments I remembered to be mindful and practice, and while those moments were often and helpful, they were also wonderfully scattered and momentary.

Last year got off to a rather tumultuous beginning. In February I was "starting over" once again, relocating to my parents' home, ending a relationship, wrapping up a business adventure, and taking on more responsibilities around my parents' place.

Then in June and July, we dealt with momma and her being hospitalized for diverticulitis and then kidney failure. That entire situation ended well with colon surgery in October from which momma has fully recovered.  She feels a bit frustrated at times because she has noticed that the tremendous physical stress along with so much hospital time has caused a significant level of brain fog and her memory isn't what it was before the whole ordeal.

She is as feisty as ever though and very glad to have all the medical issues behind her.

Fall was full of recovery for mom and doctor visits for dad.  He hadn't gone in for a regular check-up in a few years, so we got that behind us.  There were a couple of small issues, but nothing too scary. 

The biggest thing lately for daddy has been his full right knee replacement which took place on December 20th.  The replacement went smoothly and recovery was going well then he fell at home on the 27th and busted the stitches open.  He was taken back into surgery to check for damage and infection.  Gratefully neither was present and he is continuing a wonderful, although somewhat tedious recovery.

Daddy likes his independence and being stuck at home unable to drive for a few weeks is not easy for anyone. He is, of course, the most patient and easy going man on the planet, so I have not heard him complain once, but I know he's ready to be back to his usual schedule of coffee at the cafe, bass guitar lessons, church, and clay shooting with his buddies.

I am exceedingly grateful that momma and daddy have both recovered well from all that 2022 threw at them. I am also exceedingly grateful that I was able to be here to walk with them through all of it.

Life in community is truly the only way that life makes sense to me. This world can be such a mess at times. My heart is often overwhelmed by all of the pain and hurt I see in the world. I cannot do much about most of it, but I can be here for my people, and I am so grateful that I have the ability to be here for my parents.

My three kids are all doing well, and for that, I am also deeply grateful. 

The past few years have thrown multiple emotional challenges at them and I have witnessed them hunker down, do the work, and fight through the chaos with courage and determination. I am exceedingly blessed to have them in my life and to have been given the ultimate privilege to be their momma. 

My heart has broken many times over as I have watched them walk through fire after fire from which I could not protect them. Life happens and there are some battles that must be fought by the individual. I have been beside them all along, but at times they have had to be the ones wielding the emotional weapons. 

They are all adding to their emotional toolbox, continually learning personal responsibility, emotional responsibility, self-reflection, vulnerability, how to set healthy boundaries, and the list goes on and on. 

I have witnessed them emerge from the struggles time again stronger, more resilient, and more capable. I will continue to walk beside them in amazement at the strength of character I witness in each of them daily. My heart is full of love and optimism for my kids.

As for me, I am wrapping up the end of my forties. I will turn fifty in February and I am looking forward to a new decade. 

My forties were hands down, the most difficult and challenging decade of my life. The end of a 20+ year marriage, relocating back to Texas, leaving my son behind to complete his senior year in Pennsylvania, helping my kids work through the divorce, dating at mid-life, the beginning and end of a new relationship, and a lengthy custody battle are some of the biggest and more challenging highlights.

I am hoping and praying that life settles into a minutely smoother routine in my fifties. I won't be holding my breath, but so far 2023 appears to be off to a decent start. 

And today is a good day.

I got a fire going in the wood-burning stove this morning. I spent ten minutes in silent mindfulness meditation sitting in front of the fire. I have had a couple hours of quiet time to drink coffee. I have written on this blog. I got to see the full moon setting. I got kitty snuggles and puppy snuggles. My friend is headed over. The sun is shining. 

In this moment, life is all I need it to be.

I will sit in this moment and all the other moments, one at a time. 

 I will continue to breathe and practice mindfulness. 

I will do more yoga. 

I will stay connected to my people. 

I will share my life with my tribe.

I will love with my full heart.

Come walk with me.

Brain May Be Broken

 My last blog post was over two years ago. 

Life just keeps happening and happening.  

I read my last post "I'm Not Buying What You're Yelling," (from Feb. 2020) and I felt multiple feelings.

Initially, I was surprised at how long it had been since I had written anything on here, and that was followed by surprise at not remembering much of what I had written.  My brain has been so busy with other things and it can only hold so much. 

Next was the realization that I cannot remember how long it's been since I had a regular meditation practice. At the time of writing my last post, I was practicing on the regular. I have continued to tell myself, almost daily, that I need to be meditating and doing yoga and yet, I have not restarted either consistently.

I "practice" my meditation a moment or two at a time, and I "yoga" when I'm doing other things. I stretch properly to reach something, lift properly with my legs as I move something, and balance as I’m putting on my shoes.  I remember my posture and to "stand in my bones" as I go through my daily activities/work.  And I guess that's kind of the point of both, to incorporate them into the little every-moments, but it still feels like I’m only half-assing life.

Last I felt sadness. Not completely sure why that particular feeling came up, but I'll come back to that feeling in the near future.

Quite a few things have changed since February of 2020. 

First of all, Covid.  

And if that weren't enough.....the home I was in at the time has been relocated to a new location (which was quite a long checklist of activities). The relationship I was in at the time has changed dramatically. I and my youngest have moved from the home we moved, and we are now living with my parents. I am helping them take care of their home, pool, yard, seven acres, and pets (four dogs and a cat, but I swear it feels like there are 17,000 dogs).

Lots of other life has happened as well. 

A long and costly custody battle wrapped up, eventually ending in my favor. 

I started and ran a food truck for almost a year. Relationship changes brought an end to that endeavor.  

I helped a friend through recovery from back surgery, and job hunting.

And now my mother is dealing with recovering from being hospitalized for diverticulitis and kidney issues (she had an extreme sensitivity to the IV contrast for CT scans and her kidney were VERY unhappy). 

Oh, and there are some legal issues my dad is dealing with from his business from which he retired.  It should all work out well, but damn there's a lot of legal paperwork and I'm so done with legal paperwork.

I often feel like I'm spinning in lots of directions at the same time but never actually making any progress in any of those directions.

If adult-onset ADHD is a thing, I think I could qualify.  It may just be that I'm getting older and life has filled up my brain.  But jeeze, my brain feels rather broken and tired.

I am going to work at holding myself accountable to meditate more. I know I need it. I want to yoga more as well. And I want to crochet. I have not crocheted much lately, and I need to create.

Gonna do my best to hold myself accountable without judgment, but non-judgement takes practice and I'm out of practice.

I'll try to keep y'all posted, and I'll do my best to show up more often. 

Come walk with me.

I'm Not Buying What You're Yelling

Today I sat with frustration and self-judgment.

I dropped my youngest off at school and took care of a couple errands since I was not substitute teaching (bank deposit, prescription pick up, grabbed a couple items at the grocery store).  Then I headed home to start my day.  I had quite a few things I needed to get completed, a few I wanted to mark off the list, and many other things I'd actually love to do.

First, the necessary-I needed to practice my mindful meditation (yes, it needed to happen). I needed to clean the kitchen, sweep, and mop.  I needed to dust and vacuum.  I needed to wash, dry, and replace the linens on the beds.  I needed to type up and mail out some invoices for my dad's water well business.  There are also some well reports to enter and some payments to reconcile, and a couple of tax things I needed to take a look at.  I also needed to take care of a subscription for an app on the tv that needs to be properly renewed.

Second, the optional-My income taxes are hanging over my head as well and I want to get them finalized.   Both bathrooms could stand to be given a once over as well (but that's not a top priority for today). I should do some yoga. I should make some calls about starting teaching crochet classes.

Last, the longings-Crochet! I'd love to just sit and crochet All The Things! I'm creating a pattern and I'd love to complete it.  I'd love to straighten and organize all the yarn I inherited from my grandmother. I'd love to fire up my metal foundry and work out the kinks in the design.

I got home, the to-do's bouncing around in my head, and I tidied up for a while in the kitchen, gathered linens from one bedroom and placed those in the washer, ate an apple with some peanut butter, and finally made myself take a seat on my cushion to meditate.

I sat for 20 minutes in mindful meditation.

Let me rephrase...I practiced mindful meditation, or better yet, struggled through a practice.

That sounds better.  It's a practice. It's not a performance. It's not perfect. And for me, it's often a task that requires work and tenacity.

I sat and immediately noticed that I actually felt guilty for practicing today.  The guilt comes from the fact that I was able to meditate today at 10:00 a.m.  Why the guilt?  Well, I am not working at a full-time job currently. I substitute and help my dad, but neither of those constitutes full-time employment. And so I never feel like I'm contributing enough. I should not have the time on my hands to sit at 10:00 a.m. I hear the ugly voice in my head yelling, "Get off your ass and get to work! You are not doing enough!"

Rarely do I feel like I do enough, like I am enough.

I don't make enough. I don't work on my dad's business enough. I don't spend enough time with my mom. I don't help out around my parent's house enough. I don't spend enough time with my kids. I don't clean enough, cook enough, exercise enough, meditate enough. I don't keep in touch with my friends enough. I don't support my people enough. I don't see my extended family enough. I don't read enough, journal enough, blog enough. I don't help others enough. I don't advocate or socially engage enough.

I am simply not enough.

I noticed all these feelings clamoring around in my head and I noticed frustration.

I brought my attention back to my breath, to the sound of the washer churning, to the bird chirping, to the coffee pot clicking. I noticed the sound of my breath and my surroundings. I breathed and I sat.

I noticed the judgments, the frustration, and the ugly voice still yelling. I listened to my breath.

I felt the heaviness in my chest, the pressure in my head, the pulse in my temple, the knot in my stomach. I felt the uneven balance in my posture, one wrist touching my thigh more than the other. I felt the irritation at noticing the unevenness.  I sat with the desire to adjust my posture and the stillness I practiced, and I took a deep breath.

I listened to my surroundings and silently repeated the phrase, "What do you notice most in your current field of awareness?" And I noticed my breath and the wind rustling outside the windows.

I noticed the wind a bit more and the ugly voice a tiny bit less. I noticed sadness at the words the voice continued to yell. I continued to feel the weight on my chest.

I noticed my mind wander. I thought about how long I had been sitting, and how much longer it would be until the bell rang to end my practice. I refocused on my breath.

I noticed the light from the sunshine outside changing the shapes inside my closed eyes. I thought about how you can "see" those shapes with your eyes closed. I noticed my mind had wandered off on this "sight" rabbit trail and I returned to my breath.

Eventually, the bell rang and my practice ended. I bowed my head in gratitude for my practice.

I still feel like I am not enough. I still question my worth. I am still frustrated. I still hear that damn ugly voice.

Mindfulness did not miraculously cure my chaotic brain, but it did help me to simply notice what my brain is saying. I can notice what is being said (or shouted) and realize I do not have to always buy what my brain is selling. I can breathe through the yelling.

I can notice, I can breathe, I cannot get hooked, and I can let it be.

Come walk with me...

This is where I sat today.
I'm smiling. I will breathe and let it be.

Happenstance or holy Spirit?

It's been almost a full year since I last posted on here.  When I think about that my head spins.  I have been feeling like writing for a while now, but I hadn't carved out the time and space to actually sit down and write.  Today I must take that time.  A few things occurred that let me know today is that day.

That whole "sitting down" process has not been going well for me lately.  I have not done much actual, formal meditation practice lately.  I have taken five minutes here and there throughout the last year, but nothing terribly consistent.

I would not say I have not practiced at all, not in the least.  And honestly, a fully incorporated daily practice might actually be more meaningful.  Because this is something I have learned to do over time, I find a moment to breathe and notice constantly.

I breathe and notice the sunrise as I prepare my daughter's breakfast.

I breathe and notice the tired cashier as I'm standing in line at the grocery store.

I breathe and notice the leaves rustling in the breeze while waiting to pick up my daughter from school.

I breathe hand notice the calf dancing in the pasture as I wash dishes at the sink.

I breathe and notice the sound of rain dripping off the eaves of the house as I type.

My practice happens like this more often than not. I try to withhold self-judgment and silence the negative voice telling me I'm not doing it right.  I notice and breathe. My chest expands, my practice expands, and my heart becomes full.

The events leading up to my determination to write today are fascinating to me.

I have written some about how my theology has shifted, over many years of my life, from that of a very conservative Evangelical Christian more universalist theology.  I have been feeling like I needed to write more about this because I've had people ask how I went from one end of the spectrum to the other.

A couple weeks ago I read a blog post (shared on Facebook) about a woman's journey away from her conservative Evangelical faith.  She wrote about the fear factor (hell, fire and brimstone preaching) she had been raised with, and I fully related to her story. I sent her a brief email telling her I appreciated her story and thanked her for sharing.

And I thought to myself that I needed to blog again soon.

I have also been catching up on the podcasts from my church in Pennsylvania.  Wellsprings Unitarian Universalist Congregation became my lifeline during some of the darkest days of my life (I've referred to these as the Divorce Years).  This beautiful spiritual community lifted my soul in ways I never dreamed possible.  I found the energy of my pentecostal upbringing in the music and community and a theology of love and grace that jived so perfectly with the path I had been traveling. I will be forever grateful to the ministry of Wellsprings (both pastors and congregants).

I now live in East Texas, but I continue to call Wellsprings my home church.  Due to the podcasts from their services I am able to remain connected and charged full with the charge of the soul.

Today, I listened to a special speaker podcast.  This speaker was introduced by a dear friend of mine at Wellsprings, Lauren. The speaker, Dave Warnock, talked about his journey away from conservative Evangelical faith along with his path and work after leaving the church.  He was a pastor.  I had been married to a minister.  We had a lot in common in our journeys.

After listening I sent a message to both Lauren and Dave.  I thanked them for their willingness to share and let them know I had been blessed by each of them.  It can be isolating, at times, living in the buckle of the Bible belt and not having a traditional Christian faith. I had to express my gratitude.

And again, I thought about blogging, sharing some of what I had heard and the warm feeling of connectedness it created in me.

Then, surprisingly,  the speaker messaged me back.  He mentioned he had a friend in East Texas and he thought we should connect. She had recently deconstructed her conservative Evangelical faith and he thought we would appreciate meeting. That's when I remembered the woman I had thanked for her blog post was actually from another town in East Texas.  What would be the odds that his friend and the blogger I had thanked were one and the same?!!  Small world indeed.

This is when I knew I had to write.  In the spiritual language of my upbringing, one would say God had brought us together.  Maybe some are comfortable with that language. Maybe not.  Was it a coincidence? Happenstance? Holy Spirit? Energy? Divine Love? Light? The Universe?

Who cares what you call it? Pieces fell into place today, and I am blessed.

I will breathe and notice how the puzzle pieces fell together today.

I will breathe and notice the joy of happenstance.

I will breathe and notice and share this story.

Running from Disease: Dis-ease

Running. Running. Running, and running some more.

Or maybe the better word would be chasing. I'm not sure.  Maybe it's a combination of both.

I've been practicing mindfulness meditation for several years now. There have been periods of more consistent daily meditation practice, where I actually carve out time and space to physically sit in silence, and there have been periods where I practice on the fly, noticing a sunset or a gentle breeze.  I know my life runs more smoothly when I sit for longer periods of time, but I also know that life happens and I work with the moments I'm given.

For about a year now there has been a situation in my life that has provided the opportunity for much personal growth. In working with this particular situation, I have experienced a wide and varied range of emotions and feelings.  There is an outcome that I'd like to achieve, but I am not fully capable of determining said outcome on my own. There are multiple contributing factors that are beyond my control.

It recently occurred to me that I have been going about the situation all wrong. 

And I'm trying to recognize this folly and notice it without the immediate judgment my brain wants to throw at me, "Idiot, how could you not see what you were doing?"

This is why it's called a "practice."  Because throughout this past year, I've been working with this specific ordeal and I'm just now realizing the severity of the things I have been telling myself:

"You should be able to handle this better."

"Get a grip. Get in control of your emotions, girl! WTELAF?" (what the ever loving actual f...)

"How are you still letting this bother you?"

"Get in control!"

"OMG, why are you so upset by this? What is wrong with you?"

"You are practicing meditation, for God's sake, why is this still bothering you?!!!"

All along I've been trying to sit with my emotions and feelings.  That's part of the practice.  Simply sit.  Notice what you are feeling. Let it be.

Let it be.

And I had been doing this. 

Or at least I thought I had been doing this. But I had a bit of an epiphany this morning as I read through one of my quiet time readings. 

This morning it was the 33 verse of the Tao Te Ching.

One who understands others has knowledge;

one who understands himself has wisdom.

Mastering others requires force; 

mastering the self needs strength.

There was some commentary written about the verse. It spoke of shifting your mental energy to allowing yourself to be with whatever you are feeling.  There is no need to blame others, or maybe, more importantly, blame yourself for the feelings.

"But you are willing to freely experience your emotions without calling them 'wrong' or needing to chase them away."  

"In this way, with this simple exercise at the moment of your dis-ease, you've made a shift to self-mastery."

I've been practicing this very concept for over five years now. Rev. Ken at Wellsprings has used the term dis-ease many times.  This is not a new, revelatory word being spoken into my life. And yet, today it shook me in a new way and shed light on my struggle over the past year.

I suddenly realized that all of my sitting and meditating and intention with regard to this particular situation had had an underlying purpose (and I'm trying really hard not to let my self-judgment be harsh).  I realized that I have been practicing with an intention of making the feelings go away.  I have been practicing to gain mastery over these particular emotions.  I have been running from or chasing away these feelings.

It was not obvious because my ego is sneaky.  I would sit and tell myself to be present with my feelings.  All good. All the way I was taught. I would feel and notice.  But what I am realizing is that I was doing all of this with the expectation that the practice would somehow lessen or remove the feelings.  There was the expectation that I would gain mastery or the feelings would slowly, magically, fade into the silence of proper meditation.

Mindfulness meditation isn't about changing the situation, running from, or chasing away the feelings. It is about being present with the feelings.  I have been frustrated that I could not master the emotions.  I have been irritated that I could not remove the feelings. I have been angered that the emotions and feelings did not retreat or remove themselves from my life.

There was a song I knew as a child called "Practice Makes Perfect," on an album called Bullfrogs and Butterflies.  It was about a young girl learning to play the piano. There is a line in the song that says, "I guess if I practice, the better I'll be."  And while I'm not certain about the "makes perfect" part of the title, the practicing and getting better is something I can appreciate.

I do not enjoy the "dis-ease" that the emotions and feelings create in me.  But I am finally learning to truly sit with myself.  I will sit. I will be. I will feel what I'm feeling and notice. I will get better at noticing when I'm running or fleeing. I will be better capable of sitting without an ulterior motive.

I am working with letting go of expected outcomes, both within myself and with situations in which I'm involved. I can feel the emotions and feelings, but I do not have to allow them to cause additional disease. I will notice the dis-ease, and let it be. 

I will practice letting go of expected results and be with what is here. Relinquishing control of the outcome in my headspace (since I cannot control it anyway) feels wonderful and burden lifting.

I'm definitely still a work in progress, but I will continue my practice.

Struggle

I sat in silence for ten minutes.

This was the first time I have sat in quite a while.

Why is it always so easy to fall out of a good routine and so very difficult to reestablish said routine?

I know what I need to do in order to remain in a healthy, happy, whole mental state. I need my quiet time. I need my morning meditation. I need to stretch my body with the yoga I have learned. I need to breathe deep and relax my shoulders. I need to journal. I need to crochet and create.

Lately, I have done a decent amount of crocheting and that is about all.

Three or four days last week I stretched for about five minutes as soon as my feet hit the floor. I did a very simple yogaesque stretching that simply helped ease my body into movement for the day and it felt wonderful.  I quickly noticed a boost in my physical energy level and mental attitude. And yet, I am somehow capable of not doing that each morning.

I get frustrated with myself and then get frustrated for being frustrated with myself.

Sound insane? Probably because it is. 

I feel a tightness in my forehead, weight on my chest, tension in my shoulder blades, pressure on my temples, and an overall aching throughout my entire body.

Deep breath.  Hold it in.  Sigh it out.

Face the day and breathe.

Tomorrow I will try again.

Come walk with me...

Fuster Cluck Inside My Head

Sitting here this morning drinking coffee with a bit of half and half.  Not up as early as I would have liked, but I didn't have to set an alarm this morning and evidently my body needed a bit more sleep last night. I've read my usual morning quiet time stuff.  I did a brief sitting meditation.

October began yesterday, and life continues.  Some days one thrives and others one survives. Yesterday was one of those "survive" days for me.

It happens.

It wasn't because I was working at some backbreaking task, or running kids here and there while juggling errands and phone calls.  Both of those options would certainly have made the day much better.  Yesterday was one of those "in your head" sort of days, and sometimes those can be much more challenging.

Yesterday morning I stumbled upon a journal I had started just over twenty years ago. The date was April 28, 1998.  This turned out to be exactly one year minus one day prior to me giving birth to my first child, on April 27, 1999.

I was twenty-five, had been married five and a half years. I had finished college and a brief 5th grade teaching stint.  We had just moved back to Waxahachie after my ex had completed his coursework on his Ph.D.

As I read through a couple entries in this old journal, I found the feelings much more familiar than I expected.  My 25-year-old self had written about feeling a bit lost and confused regarding her path and purpose in life.  And it felt like a kick in the gut to realize that those feelings are once again an ever-present reality in my life.

In my journal, I described how we had decided to begin our family, and I had written about my feelings regarding all the waiting that goes into trying to get pregnant.  Waiting to ovulate, waiting to see if we had gotten pregnant, waiting to see the doctor when things went wrong, waiting for the hormone treatments after an early miscarriage, waiting to see the if treatments worked, and then waiting to start the whole process over again.

I was also waiting to see if a full-time teaching position was going to work out, and trying to decide if I would take said position depending on when or if we would be starting a family.

Needless to say, there were a lot of questions and very few answers.

Reading through this twenty-year-old journal yesterday threw me for such a loop.  I found myself inside my head in a very uncomfortable way.  I'm a 45-year-old divorced former stay-at-home mom of three and I'm still full of questions and I have fewer answers now than I did then.

I felt the pressure of this distressing realization like a huge rock sitting dead center on my chest.  My very breath felt heavy as I tried to breathe under this boulder. I felt the vice squeeze my temples and noticed the clenching of my jaw.

I wanted to run, but I had no place to go.

How in the effing world am I struggling with so many of the same questions (purpose and path) and it's two decades later?

I was angry at myself and the world.  Angry because I hadn't done more, become more, made something more of myself. Frustrated that I suddenly felt so shitty about myself and couldn't shake it.  Irritated that I was angry and frustrated. Annoyed at all the noise and chaos in my head. Sad. Just sad. And so very tired. And then I felt guilty for being so self-absorbed. All the while hearing my mindfulness self saying, "no judgment."

Yeah, I suck at that sometimes!

Needless to say, yesterday was a fuster cluck inside my head.  It was unpleasant and disturbing and bothersome and stressful and heartbreaking and the list goes on...

So I'm trying to do better today, to be kinder to Deborah.  I decided to write a few things I have learned about myself. To attempt to notice the answers I do have and simply sit with the questions that seem to never fade away.

I am a good friend.  I am a hard worker.  I care deeply for those I love.  I have a lot of love to give.  I want to see the people around me happy and healthy.  I want to share joy and decrease pain.  I enjoy helping people get work done. I don't like seeing people suffer.  I don't like confrontation.  I don't like over-consumption and consumerism. I am comfortable in my own skin.  I love encouraging people. I enjoy cheering for others and helping them learn to cheer for themselves.

It's not all of who I am, but it's a good list. I will continue to sit with the discomfort and the questions. I won't run away or try to escape. I will sit with the good as well.

And I will read and re-read this passage from a book I'm working my way through...

"Confusion is our salvation.  For the confused, there is still hope.  Hang on to your confusion.  In the end it is your best friend, your best defense against the deathliness of others' answers, against being raped by their ideas. If you are confused, you are still free."  Dr. David Hawkins, "Letting Go"

Well, I am wonderfully free, because I'm confused as all get out by this process we call life.  Come walk with me, we'll be confused together, but at least we won't be alone.

Finding My Path-or maybe not? Who knows?

being edited

Reclaiming Holy Spirit

From my journal this morning...

I am learning to reclaim the term Holy Spirit.

The Christian tradition, and specifically the Pentecostal/Charismatic tradition in which I was raised, puts a tremendous emphasis on the Holy Spirit.

We are filled with the Spirit.

The Spirit is with us and dwells in us and leads us and guides us.

The Holy Spirit intercedes for us on our behalf. When we do not have the proper words to pray, the Spirit will pray in our place.

I had lost so much of this as I lost my faith in the very constrained God of my Christian tradition.

I am now finding a way to fully reconnect with the Holy Spirit and I feel my soul come alive, and the energy of that statement resonates so deeply in my being.

I guess I am learning to trust the Holy Spirit again. I'm learning to see the Holy Spirit in my life in a fresh new way. I cannot explain it as well as I once could. At one time in my life, I had all the answers and everything was very black and white and simple. Now I have many more questions and very few answers, but I am so much more alive!

I feel such happiness being able to reconnect and reclaim the term Holy Spirit.

Spirit is redefined and re-imaged in many ways from the ideas with which I grew up, and yet Spirit remains the same.

The boundaries, restraints, and restrictions have fallen away.

Spirit includes everyone and is with each of us and connects us and draws us to one another.

The energy that draws breath into my body draws breath into each body, everybody. The energy that causes my heart to beat, causes each heart to beat.

Every heart around the world beats together in a great chorus, an amazing thunderous symphony of Spirit energy. Each heart connected with, by, and through this Spirit.

There is rhythmic, constant, continual beating.

Some hearts are brand new and beat a rapid rhythm.

Some are very old and beat heavy and slow.

But together they produce a cacophony of thunderous sound, almost silent, but magnificent if you learn to listen and notice.

There is a constant thunderous applause of heartbeats connecting each of us to the other, to all.

This energy, this Holy energy, this Holy Spirit dwells within each of us just waiting to be heard, noticed, and recognized.

This Spirit...

This Energy...

This Love...

This charges me full with the charge of the soul.

My heart does not beat alone.

My heart beats and my lungs breathe as a part of an amazing symphony-the symphony of life.

I can feel it pounding in my chest, beating constantly. I see and feel my chest swell with the Spirit of life.

You are not alone!
None of us are alone.
We are all a part of this splendiferous orchestra.

We are all led by the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit conducts, orchestrates, energizes and we all participate. If you are alive you cannot help but participate.

Be still.

Feel.

Listen.

Know you are not alone. You can never be alone.

Hearts beat,
Lungs breathe,
In constant unison along with you.

The Spirit compels your heart to beat. The Spirit fills you with each breath. The Spirit goes within as you breathe in and sends life pulsing through your body.

The Spirit then flows from you with each exhale, sharing your life force with the world. And you cannot, without ceasing your existence, prevent this constant, continual, amazing, beautiful, sharing of yourself and the Spirit.

You can refuse to notice it.

You can redefine it.

You can rename it.

But you cannot deny nor escape it.

Your heart beats. Your lungs breathe. Energy flows constantly through you.

The Spirit is in you. The Energy keeps you alive. The Holy Spirit connects each and every one of us.

The Holy Spirit-Divine Energy, Divine Light, Amazing Love, it is with you, alive in you, and you cannot escape it.

Even death cannot contain it.

You are wrapped within,
a complete part of,
fully connected to,
this amazing life.

You are not alone.

We are all in this together,
there is no other way.

Continually Learning

Last time I wrote I was tossing around the idea of getting my masters in counseling.  Today, I'm not sure that is the proper path.

I feel like I'm still such a work in progress.  I have been taking some time to try to get to know myself as an individual (no longer a wife, and not as a mom).  I've learned a couple things that might seem obvious, but I can more clearly state these things about myself.

One thing I've learned is that I  am definitely a people person.  I enjoy being around people.

Obvious right?  I know...

And I've known this about myself, but I am now discovering just how much I need to interact with people in order to feel joy in my life.

I have been working from home for my dad's water well business and also substitute teaching.  I enjoy the work I do for my dad because I know how much it helps him out.  But what I've learned is that being at home, in a quiet house, all day is often draining to me.

I began substituting in the elementary school at the beginning of this school year, and I really enjoyed it.  Then in October, I began subbing in the high school and much to my surprise I found I enjoyed it even more.

I absolutely love connecting with the kids in the high school!

Don't get me wrong, I love the little ones.  I love seeing their eyes light up when something clicks, when they realize they read the word right, or they get called to answer a question.  Their love of learning and excitement is contagious.

But in the high school, I do not see this excitement quite as often.  Lately, I find myself being drawn to try to reignite something I see lost in the eyes of many of the teens with whom I come in contact.

Another thing I'm learning (or of which I am becoming fully cognizant) is that I really enjoy encouraging people.

I love to love on those kids in the high school.  I enjoy greeting them as they walk down the hallway, whether they want to be greeted or not. I love shaking a hand and saying hello. I thrive on letting them know that I care.  I want them to know that someone cares.  I want them to feel encouraged to try, encouraged to live, encouraged to learn.

I love sharing the love in my heart. I have so much love to give and I see so many who need to feel loved.  I want to hug each and every one of them. I want them to learn to see themselves the way I see them.

I see them full of life and bursting with potential.

I need people in my life to feel joy.  I want to encourage those around me.  I want them to know they are capable and worthy of love.

I'll to keep you posted.  :)

Listening to My Heart

It's been a minute or two since I posted anything. Fall came and went and now winter is in full swing.

I'm still working on figuring out who I want to be when I grow up.  I've been through a few ideas over the last year.  I've been subbing and trying to decide if I want to go back into the classroom full time.

I love the kids, it's all the other stuff that goes along with being a classroom teacher that gives me pause.  The connections I make with the kids thrills my soul.  I love listening to them talk and getting a glimpse into their world. 

I began subbing in the high school a couple of months back, and this was the first time I had done any teaching at that level.  I have always subbed in the elementary grades.  I love the little ones, but I have come to discover that I really enjoy getting to know the teens as well. 

I have also noticed that so many of them just need a listening ear.  I'm an extrovert, so interacting with people comes naturally to me.  And I've noticed how quickly a teen will open up to me if I simply pay attention to what they are saying.  As a sub, this is much easier to do than as a full-time classroom teacher (especially in the high school).  I'm basically crowd control in the high school.  The classroom teacher leaves an assignment, and I make sure no one acts a fool and that they at least pretend to be doing the work.  :) 

Then, I get to just talk with the kids.  Or I get to just sit and listen to them talk and interact with each other.  I enjoy it very much.  I've been surprised at how easily some of the kids will open up to me when they can see that I'm really paying attention to what they are saying.

I had more support as a teen than anyone can imagine.  Both of my parents attended my school events  And I mean every school event (sports, music, club activities, etc). They didn't miss a thing.  And they weren't just there, they were there with camera and video camera in hand.  I knew I was loved unconditionally and they were truly interested in my life.  I also know that for many kiddos, this is not the case.  Life does not always go smoothly for parents and thus becomes rocky for the kids as well.

So my mind began churning regarding how to be able to be there for those kids who need more support than home is able to provide. 

I want to be a listening ear. 

In a conversation with a friend recently we were discussing how people are responsible for their own decisions.  I said that broken people break people.  His response was that broken people can choose not to break people.  He stated that people who are living in a shitty situation can choose to rise above it or to repeat the pattern.  I agreed but pointed out that, in my experience, in every situation where the pattern had been broken, there was at least one person who spoke love into the troubled life.  It may not have been a parent, but it was someone, at least one.

I want to find a way to be that one.

I want these kids to know that someone cares, truly cares.

I want them to know that I will listen, and I will love them, and I will cheer them on as they navigate this mess we call life.  I want them to know they are loved.  My heart swells with love and compassion for these kiddos.

I'm trying to discern how best to fulfill this longing in my soul.  What is the proper path forward for me in order to provide support for the kids in my little community?

I'm thinking about getting my masters in counseling.  Maybe that would open up the door for me to listen and help.

I'm trying to listen to my heart and work with the feelings that arise.  I'm beginning to notice how my heart feels full and whole when I'm helping others reach their full potential.

I'll keep you posted!

Today

Today

I will sit with
  Today.

I will be present with
   Today.

I will notice all of
   Today.

I will listen to
   Today.

I will not hurry through
   Today.

I will breathe with
   Today.

I will live with
   Today.

I will create with
   Today.

I will love with
   Today.

Today.

Full Heart, Deep Breaths

I'm sitting on the couch listening to my daughter learn a new song on the piano.  Life doesn't get much better than this.  I realized it's been a little over a month since I last wrote on my blog.  It's fascinating to me how life can simultaneously speed by and drag all at the same time. 

This same child recently realized that she will be able to graduate a year early from high school and she is beyond thrilled at this option.  It's like her sentence has been reduced from three years to two, and suddenly there is a light at the end of the dark tunnel that is high school.  :)

I'm thrilled for her and wonderfully optimistic about her future.  She has the next four years all planned out and she's excited and happy about her future prospects.  Makes this momma's heart happy to see her baby girl feeling so hopeful and alive with anticipation for her future life.

There have been many times over the past few years when I struggled to see even a glimpse of this happiness, but today my heart is light and my breathing is deep.  It feels wonderful, and I will not take it for granted.  If I've learned anything from my mindfulness practice, I've learned to be present.  This was not always something I felt like doing.  Sitting with all the difficult emotions over the last few years and not running or escaping often took monumental effort.

But today, I sit with joy, peace, happiness, and light.  I'll take it. 

I'm not gonna worry about how long it will last, or what could happen to change these feelings.  I'm not the worrying type.  The anxiety I struggle with at times has not reared it's ugly head in a while and for that I'm extremely grateful.

Today I sit with music, cool fall weather, a snuggly cat, a warm cup of coffee, a couple of creative projects underway, a new friendship, a cozy blanket, long shadows from a southern sun, and joy.

Teen Depression: Find Your Tools

The post below was written by my middle daughter. She is a fifteen. She wrote this for a high school class. I'm sharing it in my blog with her permission. She read it to me after she had written it and asked if she should share it with the class or write something else. I told her she should definitely turn it in. Depression and mental health is an extremely important topic and one that, especially among teens, does not get enough attention.

I am more proud than words can express when I see all the struggles that my baby has dealt with and the courage it took for her to keep struggling and find her way through.

She's got a bigger tool box at fifteen than I had at forty!

Find Your Tools

Dark shades of gray, and bleak, dull, green were everywhere I looked. Numbness existed in every part of my body, and a dazed and somewhat detached sense lay in my brain. There was a lack of emotions, neither positive nor negative, regardless of the events occurring around me. What am I doing? Where am I going? Questions about my existence and what point it could possibly have came and went, and with them the pull to continue living. Feeling this way- well, more like practically not feeling anything at all- for the rest of my life seemed pointlessly tedious.

I lived with the dull pain and the absence of excitement for life for what felt like centuries. Nothing anybody said would ever make it better. The same advice flooded into my ears until it felt like the words, “it’s going to be okay,” were flowing through my veins. These words were intended to give me hope, but they continually left me laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling forlorn and beyond recall. I wouldn’t say ‘sad’ is an accurate description of these sensations. With sadness comes tears, but with this sentiment I was unceasingly experiencing, tears never came. Instead, everything was drearily monotonous, as if I was watching my life through a dull filter, in which the colors consisted only of bleak shades of gray and green.

There was a point in time where I was confident, almost completely sure, that I wouldn’t be here by the day of my intended high school graduation. This thought seemed inevitable, and that scared me. I wanted to change how I felt, so I made a few seemingly small modifications in my life. I began writing out everything that I was feeling, or not feeling. I wrote all of the details about that day’s numbness and uncertainties that made me question why I was still alive. I never limited the amount I wrote. Some days the words flowed through four, maybe five pages. Other days I wrote three sentences and felt as though I had nothing else to say.

However, regardless of the amount I wrote, at the end of each daily entry I would write three things that I was thankful for. Three things that made me smile or simply made me appreciate being here, alive and breathing. I found the little things that I enjoyed, even if they meant absolutely nothing. Watching candles burn, listening to the sound of wilderness at night, looking at the passing cars, observing ants as they traveled across a concrete sidewalk, waking up to watch the sunrise every morning. Small things that had no real meaning yet things I realized made me appreciate the world around me.

I did all of those things and hundreds more to distract my mind from the numbness and the constant dull pain. Creating art of all mediums, singing songs of all genres, dancing freely to music with all sorts of sounds. I continued to add onto the list of simple things I could do to make me feel alive. I call this imaginary list ‘my tools’. I attempted to steadily increase the amount of tools that I had found. I expanded my toolbox by finding new small aspects of life to enjoy and appreciate about the world around me.

I refer to depression sometimes as a cloud. Some days the cloud is wispy and thin, the sun is shining through, and life doesn’t seem quite so impossible. Other days it’s as if the cloud is tremendously heavy, dense, and dark and won’t go away no matter how much you try to see the sun rays hidden behind it. On those days, life seemed absolutely insurmountable. It’s also on those days when I would contemplate what the results would be on the people around me if I were gone. When these difficult, dark-cloud days would happen, instead of sitting in silence and and staring off in a sort of numbed daze, I began to go outside. I would go and listen to the bugs and the birds and the blowing of the wind, and I’d try to let the wind blow that dark, enveloping cloud of numbness away too.

Using all of these newly discovered ‘tools’ enough created a habit. It became second nature to go outside and watch the trees sway in the cool breeze of a beautiful fall day. It became ordinary to find me sitting by a creek listening to the rush of the water. Colors began appearing again, quite possibly more vibrant than before. The beauty in life had surfaced in my eyes once again. Now, I can say that I have found my passion, and it makes sense why I push through all the dark-cloud days. Although nothing is set in stone and I sometimes still feel like I have a million dark-cloud days a week, I can envision myself in a happy place somewhere in the future. I think- no, I know- that with my toolbox by my side and my “three things a day,” I can make it. I know you can too.

Look for those tools.

To My Tribe-THANK YOU!

Sitting here drinking a cup of coffee.  The house is quite.  My teenager is still asleep and my youngest is enjoying a surprise visit from her dad.

T-shirt yarn at the ready, with table to be refinished beneath.  Projects just keep coming! :)

I'm getting ready to weave a bit more on my rug but I took a moment to check yesterday's blog for comments and respond if necessary.  While at my blog, I glanced over at the links for all my past blogs, and I clicked through a couple of them.

I've made progress in someways and in others I'm still working through the same old shit.  I guess it's really just life I'm working through, and the sunshine and the shit are just regular participants in my journey.

What I wanted to say today, before I get up off my duff and do some actual work, is THANK YOU! Thank you to each of you who read my blog and walk with me. Life is messy and beautiful and difficult and amazing and exhilarating and exhausting and wonderful and trying and so much more. Some days I'm on top of the world and others I'm looking up from the bottom.  But regardless of where I may be, I know that I am not alone.

I have an amazing tribe of people who love me, support me, encourage me, inspire me, and walk beside me.  Some of you are right around the corner. Others are on the other side of the planet.  Many are somewhere in between.  The distance between us means nothing.  I can feel your love every day in my life, and I am eternally grateful.

So I lift my coffee cup to each and everyone of you today. I hope and pray you feel my love and eternal gratitude for your presence in my life.

Looming and Learning and Life: Creativity Cures!

The loom creation project was wonderfully enjoyable!  I spent a few minutes rummaging around inside and outside of my dad's shop and luckily I was able to gather all of the necessary supplies:  wood (from the frame around PCV pipe delivered for water wells), metal poles (cut from the flower display stands from my Grandpa's funeral in '09), nails (probably left over from when my dad was building their house in the late '80's), and wood screws (my dad had these on his service truck).

With the supplies ready to go, my dad helped me get the project started.  The first thing he did was show me all of the splendiferous power tools he had to help make this process easy and FUN! And, since he's a rather decent collector of tools, he had everything I needed and more!

Frame and poles laid out during frame design brainstorming.

Then we took a few minutes and laid out our design.  I was using pictures I had found on the interwebs and ballparked our measurements since this isn't an exact science.  The size of the loom can vary depending on how large a rug you want to produce.  We decided to go with a three ft horizontal piece and a four ft-ish vertical piece (just used the boards the length they were, cause I liked the length).

My newest love, the power miter saw!

Next we cut the horizontal pieces down to three ft using this lovely little tool. It's a power miter saw, and I'm in love.

Then we began the process of actually putting the frame together.  We pre-drilled holes for the wood screws to prevent the boards from splitting (they weren't the newest boards).

Pre-drilling for wood screws.

Makita makes my heart melt!

After drilling, we put the frame together with the wood screws.  Dad headed off to check his deer feeder and left me to work out the rest.

I cut the metal rods down to the right size, using my dad's Makita metal cutting saw, and my heart fluttered once again!  After cutting the rods, I polished the sharp edges with my dad's buffer/grinder, and sparks flew (literally and figuratively)!  ;)  Have I mentioned I my affinity for power tools?

With the frame together and the rods cut and polished, I moved on to hammering in the nails for the warp of the rug.  I placed the nails one inch apart and hammered them in across the top and bottom of the frame.

Nails one inch apart

The only thing I did not find in my dad's shop was eye bolts.  I needed them to hold the rods in place along the sides of the frame (to keep the tension, when weaving, from accidentally causing the to rug hour-glass in).  I was able to purchase a set of eye bolts for the whopping price of $1.00 at Fred's in town.  Once I added the eye bolts, the loom was done!

Pre-eye bolts,  the rods are just hanging on one of the nails.

Warping the loom.

T-shirt yarn!

I used some yarn my friend Amy gave me for the warp (the material wrapped vertically from nail to nail).  After I put the warp on the loom, I began weaving with the t-shirt yarn I had made (I'll post about this process soon).  I'm not sure how many shirts I'll need or what color combination I'll use, but I am thoroughly enjoying the process.  It's definitely a learning process.  I'll blog about the finished product once it's complete.

But, what I have learned so far in this process is that creativity keeps my soul alive.  Life is shit sometimes, and there are days when all you can do is breathe and endure.  It's in the midst of these moments that a project like this helps keep me going.  At times, life can feel utterly exhausting and almost pointless.  When the dark cloud settles in, I need something that's gonna bring a ray of sunshine into my soul.

That's when this loom helps me the most.  I look forward to seeing how the rug will turn out.  I enjoy the process of repurposing old t-shirts into something that puts a smile on my face. I love learning how to do something new and envisioning ways to make the next rug.  My mind and my soul are creatively engaged, the dark cloud begins to life, and the world looks a little brighter.

Come walk with me (on my new rug, soon) and we'll see what excitement the next project holds!

My daddy and I in his shop,
 working on this project.

Green, light gray, blue-gray, orange, navy blue . . .

Raw

Yesterday I killed it and made my rug loom.  I'll put some pictures up soon.  I felt like a rock star.

Today I'm not feeling it at all.  There's a bad tape playing in my head and I can't seem to find the pause button.  I get irritated that my headspace can spin so quickly.  I breathe.  I pause.  I try not to get irritated. I feel irritated.  I attempt to sit with the irritation and all the other shitty feelings.  I try not to run from them.  I try not to judge them as shitty.  I sit and work with what comes up.  I try not to judge how well I'm sitting.

This is me. You're welcome.

I just decided to sit and type exactly how I was feeling.  It's kind of scary knowing that if I actually share this post then y'all will see me.  Like really see me.  I don't particularly try to hide.  Honestly I feel like I'm a pretty open gal.  But there are times when I don't write something or share exactly how raw I feel because I don't know that everyone should see me as clearly as they could.  Or better yet, I'm not sure anyone wants to see me that clearly.

I don't want to be rescued.  I don't need to be rescued.  I just feel like being real is worth something in the world today.

So yesterday rocked.  Today I'm dragging and picking myself up very slowly.  Not sure how to explain the change.  Every now and then I still feel like I'm back on that roller coaster, in the dark, that never repeats.  Suddenly there was a drop I wasn't expecting or a turn that jerked me in a direction I wasn't ready for, and I'm off balance and trying to recover.

Today I can't say that there was a sudden drop or unexpected turn.  And I can't even blame it on being a Monday.  Today I feel shitty, and raw, and kind of worthless, and a bit lost, and very tired of all these stupid feelings.  But today is today, and I'll keep breathing through it.

And I'm going to go to a thrift store and look for old t-shirts to turn into t-shirt yarn so I can start working on my rug loom. 

The Future Looms 😉

Good morning.  I'm sitting here waiting on the coffee to finish brewing and listening to my youngest play Toy Story 3 on the wii in the next room.  I have been researching rug looms and trying to get myself motivated enough to actually get up and find the necessary materials to build one rather than just keep looking at all the ones on Pinterest or the interwebs.

We've started a new school year here with my oldest in college in Philly, my middle in the 10th grade and my youngest in 2nd grade.  This is the first year my youngest has gone to public school, and the first year I have not had a child with me 24/7 in 18 years!  It's a bit surreal.

I am working on getting to know myself again as a person rather than just "mom," and honestly, I'm a bit confused and at times mildly terrified, but in an exciting way. I had been a wife for 21+ years at the time of my divorce a couple years ago and a full time at-home mom for 18 years. Now I'm embarking on a strange little journey at mid-life trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

My girls live with me (their dad is off to England shortly for a job thing), so I'm still a full time single mom, but now I have 8 hours each weekday that I need to fill. And what I'd like to do with those hours is, hands down, the biggest question looming in the back of my mind.

Currently I'm working from home for my dad's water well business, and that keeps me busy.  However, my dad turned 70 yesterday and I know he won't be drilling wells forever.  So the question becomes, what will I do next?  I am a certified teacher so I could go back into the classroom.  That is a very real possibility.  I'm going to be subbing in local schools this year so that will give me a good idea of what being back in the classroom would feel like.

But there are other possibilities.

When I think about what I enjoy doing (that whole finding your passion thing you hear about) I come up with a few things:

• being with people-extrovert here
• helping people complete a task or project-great worker bee/encourager
• organizing and de-cluttering, and helping people do the same-again great worker bee
• crochet and crafty/creative things-creativity makes my soul smile
• making/building stuff-I love power tools!
• yoga and mindfulness-cause I gotta stay sane
• maybe more, but I've drawn a blank and want more coffee!

So my journey continues.  I'm learning to listen, search, trust, breathe, be . . . I love having my tribe walking with me.  For me, life together is the only way this world makes sense.   So feel free to pop in occasionally and catch up.

And when I actually get a loom done, there will be pictures!



(The title is corny, I know. 😉  But I'm a goober, so I thought it was funny!)







   

I am not lonely

I'll be forty-four next month, and I'm single.  I've been single for almost three years. Prior to that, I was married for over twenty-one years. If you are any good at math you'll quickly notice that I was very young when I got married.

I did not have to get married, there were no shotguns involved. My ex and I thought we had a pretty good thing going and decided marriage was the perfect next step.  We were married almost seven years before we had our first child.  We both finished college and my ex went on to complete a master's and a Ph.D.  I became a stay-at-home homeschooling mom to three amazing kiddos.  He became a professor. We did not go through life all willy nilly.  We were thinkers and planners.  I thought we were doing a pretty decent job of making a nice little life for ourselves and our family.

Obviously, my ex had other ideas, since he later decided that "our" life was not what he desired, and he proceeded to end our marriage.

So here I sit, almost mid-forties, single, and starting over.

I am not lonely being single.  I have my youngest living with me and she is an absolute firecracker. After the divorce, I relocated back near my family so my parents are right around the corner.  My sisters and their families are all within a two-hour radius. I have several close friends in the area, and I've made a couple new friends.  My days are full of life, work, family, and friends.

I am not lonely.

Which is why I'm confused by the thoughts and feelings clunking around in my head. The feeling that I'm trying to find words to explain is a strange one.  It's a feeling that I don't ever remember having before.  And I'm not certain that I can fully articulate it.  Thinking back to my pre-marriage self (which means to my late teens, I know!) I do not recall ever experiencing this.

I realize that what I'm working with is the question as to whether or not I should be seeking out a new relationship. The words seem to get all garbled up, even as I type them, and sound rather silly.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't remember ever contemplating the deeper purpose or reasons for getting into a relationship. I dated in high school. I dated my ex in college. We got along great, so getting married was just the next step. Of course, I was nineteen and he was twenty, so we weren't exactly shrewd thinkers at the time. I guess I shouldn't fault my teenage self for not pondering these ideas more thoroughly.

But try as I might, I cannot remember ruminating over this question at all.

In high school and college, dating was a normal part of life.  I didn't have to try to meet people, I was surrounded with other people my age and socialization always came easily to me. Now, I live outside of a very small town with a population of less than 1300. I work from home.  And I'm a full-time single mom (my ex lives 1500 miles away).

So the question arises.  Do I want to be in a relationship? And when I look to myself for an answer I draw a huge blank. And then the clunking I mentioned earlier starts up again.

How do I feel about dating? Do I want to date?  Why would I want to date? Do I have the emotional energy to try to meet someone? Where in the world would I meet someone? Do I want to be in a relationship? Why would I want to be in a relationship? Where would I find the time for a new relationship? What is the purpose of a relationship anyways?

It's like a bouncy ball of questions and non-answers, and my head is a set of steel drums stacked one on top of the other.  The sound is musical and often pretty, but loud enough to be wonderfully distracting and after a while you just long for quiet.

I will continue to sit and listen. I will sit with the music and I will try to pay attention. I will be mindful.

I am learning to recognize things in myself. Through the sitting and listening, I have learned that I have a lot of love to give, that I am a caregiver and a cheerleader. I love doing things for the people in my life, and I love to see them succeed.

I have a lot of people in my life. Is this enough? Should there be one more? Should I be seeking out a significant other?

The music begins again. I will sit and listen.

Balancing Act

I'm sitting by a fireplace, flames dancing exquisitely.  In front of me there is a splendidly decorated Christmas tree full of colorful lights, surrounded by a functioning electric train. Holiday music plays at just the perfect volume throughout the house on the speaker system. The sun is setting, and the street is lined with luminaries waiting to be lit at 6:00 p.m.  Boxes are stacked beside me waiting to be wrapped.  I have a small piece of dark salty chocolate and a glass of wine calling to me on the end table. It's like I stepped right into Mayberry.

 It's perfect. Almost.

I'm sitting here alone.  Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love my alone time.  But tonight it's bittersweet. Tonight I'm working through all the emotions of missing my kids on Christmas Eve. They are with their father, eight houses down the street.

We are divorced, and on most days I handle this fact just fine.  I don't miss him at all. But my family being together, that's a whole other ball game.

I go back and forth between being fine with the situation to gut wrenching agony. And the hardest part is I don't always see the emotional switch coming.

I'm here in Philly for a week so I could squeeze in extra time with my big kids over their short winter break. It's been wonderful.  I'll take any extra minute with the kids that I can get.  I'm blessed to be able to travel up here.  Blessed to have such wonderful friends on my old street that welcome me into their home anytime I'm here.  Blessed to have such amazing children with whom I enjoy spending time.

I have so much to be grateful for, and I do not want to minimalize that or take it for granted.  And when I feel sad about my family being split apart, I almost feel guilty because so many have it so much worse.

But the sadness is there, and I do not want to pretend that it doesn't exist. 

I'm working on finding the balance between gratitude and honestly admitting my feelings of loss, sadness, and anger.

I do not like those feelings.  I want them to go away and leave me alone.  I do not want to be angry at my ex for making the choices he made to end our marriage and thus separating me from my kids half of the holidays. But along with the sadness and loss there is anger.

Anger is exhausting to me. It's not something I dwell upon, but as I sit and pay attention I notice that it shows up.

The whirlwind of love, excitement, joy, and gratitude swirled in with sadness, loss, anger, and frustration makes for a mess of my mindfulness meditation.

I'm not sure how to properly deal with all of it, so tonight I chose to write and share.  These are my feelings.  This is my heart: broken, beating, full, tired, teary, happy, grateful, and aware.

I'm learning to breathe through all of it.  I'm learning that my heart keeps beating. I'm learning that I must recognize and honor all the feelings. I'm learning balance. I'm not good at it, but I'm learning.