it's complicated, well kinda

i am reading Women Food and God. it is quite an amazing book for anyone who uses anything, any kind of activity or substance, to feel better about...well, anything.
one of the first things that struck me was when the author, geneen roth, said "Never underestimate the urge to bolt." to run away. withdraw. to protect yourself by whatever means.
this is so powerful for me.
she talks about staying present in the moment, feeling whatever you might be running from. boredom. fear. loneliness. angry. whatever it is.
when i read that part about bolting, i knew it was important to me. i really didn't understand how i could feel anymore than i already was. i KNOW how i feel. i KNOW why i am feeling it. i know and know and know and know.
but i don't feel it. i am intellectualizing it. analyzing.
and bolting.
to food. to talking with someone. to doing something for someone. to making something. to looking for new ideas. like this tree. coming from one source and then fracturing.
anything but feel that i am lonely or bored or tired or uninspired or lacking or really pissed or think that i am just not good enough.
so i have been becoming more conscious about staying in the moment. staying. in. the. moment.
this is a new understanding for me. yeah, i have heard time and time again to be in the moment, not to go elsewhere because life is now.
but this is about intentionally not bolting from the moment.
that is different to me.
strength isn't about just enduring the gale force winds. it's not just about seeing life as a batten down the hatches and hang on.
it's about knowing that the wind can blow as hard as it wants, and it can tear my house down and throw all my stuff in the next county, but i will be fine. i won't crumble.
tonight i had a visceral knee jerk reaction of distrust. i quickly realized that i wanted to bolt. to run and get away from the feeling that i would be hurt, that i was in emotional danger.
i wanted to lash out. to immediately hash out the issue. confront the other person. this wasn't communication in a healthy sort of way. it was the need to be told that everything is good, okay. that i was wrong and that i am safe.
so it isn't only food that i use for comfort.
but it's okay. because i am learning to stay in the moment.
and finding that, in fact, the moment is a pretty cool place to be.

road trip

Erik and I went on a short photo safari this weekend. Headed off to the outer banks, hitting spots between Nags Head and Hatteras. It was great fun. Just roaming around looking for a photo opp. It was a cloudy day but the lighthouse was beautiful as ever.

We stopped at the visitors center as we got to the Outer Banks and there was a long wooden boardwalk that ran parallel to the bridgeway. We took a stroll down there and I was just captivated by the views under the bridge. Where the water was, is and the stage of wet that the dirt was in. I loved the bans on the bridge supports. Sometimes there were motorcycles crossing overhead with some bike rally nearby. Sometimes it was just a crow's call or some mysterious chirping somewhere. Air...perfection. Beach breezy, sky mingled with overcast and perfect cool temperatures...you know, the kind where it is happy on the skin when you are resting and cooling when you are moving around a lot. We saw all sorts of plants that I couldn't identify.
As we were walking back towards the car for the next leg of the exploration, a bright green lizard darted across the boardwalk, right under Erik's foot. Nearly stepping on the little sucker was what caught Erik's attention and I got to see the little fellow before he went over the edge.

This was a new friend that I made while at the base of the lighthouse. He wasn't a mouse. But he was teeny. Looked kind of like a bitty gerbily type fellow. He wasn't the brightest mouse in the lighthouse but he was so cute. I tried to get him to stay away from the tourists (you know, with me being an OBX native...hehe) and so I walked with him for a while. Probably about 10 minutes. Cute little guy.
One of the great little treasures that I found while walking on the beach was a tiny footprint. I snapped a shot of it then realized there was no perspective so I put my foot next to it. Cool.


I was trying Erik's way of walking on the beach. Since it is too cool to go into the water still, we were just walking the beach. He wears his tennies and socks to make walking easier. I am a throw the shoes off, probably sandals and get that sands all over my feetsies. Well, I was going to be oh so clever and not get my feet all sandy. It lasted until I walked down to the water and the second wave to hit shore moved faster than me. Yup, socks and shoes were wet and came off. Yippee! The toes hit the sand then the water and got all perfectly beachy. I just left my sneaks on the beach while we explored and took in the sights.
Lots of fun. Lots of photos. Just wanted to share a few moments of the get away.

The Face of Love

Okay, this isn't the most dignified photo of my grandmother but then my grandmother wasn't the most dignified woman.
Thank God.
Grammy died this morning, in her sleep.
She was born 96 years, one month and a couple of days ago.
Her life wasn't always easy. In fact, I would say that it was rarely easy. She lost her own mother at only 6 years old. Bounced between aunts and an orphanage. Her marriage to my grandfather was something that most women today would never endure.
My grandmother was a pistol, as my dad would say. In fact, a couple of years ago, my family was gathered for Christmas. My dad said something that was pretty shocking to me. He said, with Grammy in the room, "Your Grandmother is in great health. I bet she will make it to a 100." I said that I wasn't taking that bet, how could I possibly win? Grammy sat for a moment and then said "I'll take that bet. I win either way!"
That was Grammy.
Sharp, funny and always looking at life from love.
About 7 years ago, I asked Grammy what her favorite part of her life so far was. She said "All of it." While I knew that shouldn't be true, considering her life, I knew that she meant it. When pressed she told me about going out to the clubs to listen to music and dance with my grandfather. I thought of her, as a young woman in the 1930s, listening to the big bands and the upstarts. Moving to the music and feeling like the world was hers. That still makes me smile.
I spent some time with her a couple of weeks ago. She was fragile and didn't know me.
We sat looking at the finch house at the assisted living center where she lived. She was quiet. I rubbed her back. I stroked her long white hair that was knotted into a bun. She didn't say much this time. She has been leaving for a while. She was mostly somewhere else.
When I arrived I rounded a corner and there she was, sitting in her wheelchair in the hallway. When I asked her what she was doing, she told me that she had just gotten back from the movies. I asked her what movie and while she didn't remember the movie, she said she enjoyed it. Figuring that she hadn't just seen a movie, I asked her where she saw it and she named the two movie houses from her youth. I told her that I was glad that she had a good time.
We just hung out together. Every once in a while, she would say something. I would hug her and tell her I loved her. She would say that she loved me, that she loved everybody. She did. And truly, everyone who met my grandmother for the entirety of her life, loved her.
She sat with a faint smile on her face and I asked her if she was happy. She said "Why not?"
That was my Grammy.
I will never be the woman that she was and I will never stop trying to be more like her. She is my Grammy, my role model and the perfect combination of strength and love.
I will never stop loving her and if my mind slips from my body when I am older, I hope that some of its jaunts are to our happy times together.
Dance, beautiful Lillian, dance.

long time no see

it's been ages since i last wrote. family health dramas, ensuing issues and emotions. holidays and a load of shoulds have fully packed the space between now and then.
something that i have been thinking a lot about is the quality of life.
during the past 5 months, my mom has faced some death defying stuff. the doctors said, repeatedly that we needed to have the end of life talk. which we did.
it was hard to wait while my mother took the time, overnight in this case, to decide what she wanted to do. and yes, there was a living will.
what i came to realize about a living will is that it is much about one's will to keep living.
amidst the charts, procedures, tests and vitals, the doctors didn't see it. the nurses didn't see it. they only saw despair and a woman whose body had been through hell. desperate cries for a mere, though potentially life threatening, glass of water. endless bags of this and that and more of something else that i had hoped to never learn about in this lifetime. tubes. miles and miles of tubes.
but our family saw it.
my mom wasn't done.
it wasn't recorded on a chart anywhere. there was no test for the fight left in her. while i listened to the doctors, nurses and even hospice people talk to my mother, i heard what they were really saying. this is big and serious and c'mon you have already lived this long and you should be comfortable.
i lost count of the number of times that i listened to them during this period and watched my mother trying to process what they were saying through the haze of medication.
it was a trying time. okay, that is one of the biggest understatements EVER. but i reminded her, in front of them, that what they said was a possibility not a guarantee, because they didn't know anything for sure.
my mother came home, after just shy of 5 months. she surprised everyone. maybe herself too. doctors and nurses came to say goodbye and wish her well. her third day home she went out for dinner. and on the 5th day she and my sister are going out for her first shopping trip.
all of this is to say that i have been thinking about the quality of life.
i am not good with death. i wish that i was better but i guess it doesn't matter that much as it's coming either way.
this has me looking within even more than normal (yes, it might actually be possible) and looking at others as well.
there are a lot of people who are not living a life of quality. who really aren't happy.
and i think that it is because we, like the doctors, are basing the future on the past. this is what has happened so this is what will likely happen again.
but it doesn't have to be that way.
we don't ever have to stop asking ourselves if we have what we want. i am not talking about an ipad here. i am talking about what actually fulfills our spirit, our life purpose. the thing that ticks off all the boxes of our own cosmic 'honey do' list.
this is way too big for one blog posting. i am in this long running show called life and am doing my best to explore my role in it.
so this, like life, will be continued...

Sharing the Wealth

Keeping that Blog Month Party rocking...
Today I found a no-nonsense blog. The author is talking about odd occurrences that have happened to her, especially around this halloween time. And I will add...with the full moon who knows what will happen.
Reading about her odd occurrences reminded me about something that happened to me a few years ago. Those of you who know me personally know that I have a small spinsock on my car. It makes me really happy to know that it is twirling wildly in the wind as I drive.
Anyway, one day I walked out to my car, which was parked in the mall parking lot. Gone! My little spinsock was gone. Someone had taken it. It was there when I left but gone when I returned. I wasn't thrilled but at least I knew that someone else would have the fun that I had enjoyed.

It happened to be around Halloween and by chance (divine intervention!) I came across a little ghost spinsock. Perfection! I put it on my car and life was good again.
A few days later I was sitting at the drive through window at the bank. I caught sight of my car in the bank window.
Yup, you guessed it. The little ghost was gone.
That wasn't the fun part. The best part was the original one had been replaced! Ghost gone, original one reattached.
I asked all of my friends if they had done it. No one had.
Ah, a mystery for the ages.
Moral of the story is that even criminals can show some restraint.
Or maybe that it is really cool connecting with new people.
Here is the link you have been waiting for!
http://acleanhouseisoverrated.wordpress.com/
And really, could I possibly love the name or spirit of the blog name anymore? I think not! Thanks, Kimberly for sharing!

NaBloPoMo

This month is one of creativity.
It is NaNoWriMo...National Novel Writing Month. It is NaBloPoMo...National Blog Posting Month. It is also AEDM...Art Every Day Month.
Lots of cool stuff going on.
In fact, just yesterday I was the guest speaker at a global teleseminar on creativity. So it is definitely in the air...all over the world.
I am participating in both NaBloPoMo and AEDM.
With the blog every day challenge, you are to do a blog post every day. Well, while I thought that was pretty cool, I decided to add a bit of a challenge to it. Sure, it is simply delightful to hear my own opinions (!) but what if I got to taste a bit of 30 other people's lives this month? How cool would that be?
So I decided to put this caveat to the challenge...each day find a new blog and leave a comment. I leave my name and my URL in case they would also like to reach out.
Tonight when I was visiting today's discovery, I decided that I would share the blog that I discovered each day and what it meant to me.
Today I found Farm Chicks, http://thefarmchicks.typepad.com/
The blog's owner is named Serena and her post today was about taking the long cut...opposite of short cut...home. She has the greatest photos of barns and farms from her drive home. Wow.
It got me thinking about the long way home. I have watched the moon become full this month and every time I stand out in the cool air, especially since the time change last weekend, it seems to me that time is slowing down. I let the air brush over me and feel the stress in my muscles drift away. It feels as if my spirit is expanding first within the confines of my body then reaching out to the sky itself.
There is so much going on in my life right now and yet there are these moments when I can take the long way. Maybe it is just leaning against the car for an extra moment before going in or standing in the night with the dogs for a few moments longer. Indy and Charlie, my little furry fellas, love standing nose in the air, sniffing for new. Fresh. Different. In no hurry to go anyway, just taking the long way.
Thanks, Serena, for sharing your long cut with me. It made a difference in my day!

The Price of Admission

My life over that past few weeks has been a study in deep dark. In shadows. Breakdowns. Broken hearts. Glimpses. Changes. Internal battles. Coming into a new awareness of me. Working the hard won epiphany.

So much goes on, moving fast and hard. Where the light did little more than highlight the dark. There was a heavy march of change. One that I felt was going to happen, had happened, whether I was ready or not. Maybe I just didn't realize how ready I was. Source seems to be bringing me, I seem to be attracting situations, that feel big...bigger than I can handle. A rush of emotions, of events. Change at gale force.

Through it all, I saw myself going through the 5 stages of grieving. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. I dance a quick 2 step through the stages. Bouncing forward. Jump back. Touch a toe here and then there.
I go through these stages as others do. Physically and emotionally. Intellectually.
When I go through what appears to be a difficult shift in situation or perspective, I deluge myself with the thought of what is. And won't be. It isn't to torture myself, though that may certainly be one outcome. I do it to force the change. No, not force the change. Push the acceptance.
While doing this, I feel weak and small and like everything I face is far bigger than me. But I keep going because that is how I am wired. I keep telling myself over and over what the changes mean until I can do it without tears. I can only imagine what it is like for those who are able to divorce themselves of attachment. That can compartmentalize. Can distract themselves. We all cope differently.
Then I can begin to see some light. Begin to see not just the dark but how the light lines it. Butts up to it. Exists side by side. I can begin to see that the dark doesn't bleed into the light the way that my fear bleed into my hope.
I start to see and feel the change as gradual. Though it may come as the first cool autumn day suddenly arrives, I know that it is over time. A bit at a time. For though a situation may change, its full impact is only felt when and how we process it. I can have a great loss and not know about it. While I am unaware, it makes no difference to me. When I discover this loss, then the journey begins. The denial. The blind rage. The begging. The shutdown. The knowing. And then moving on.
But it happens a bit at a time. At least for me.

I have long since thought of myself as a godspark. One little bit of source in a sea of other sparks. I felt small but like I could. I just could. Somehow make my way. I might know not exactly how to get where I am going. But to keep focused. If I all I could do is to keep my eye on the one foot in front of the other.
One morning, I opened the door to find this slug that had traveled on a rainy night up my storm door. When I opened the inner door I was face to literally face with him. I could see the circles where he can curled up and rested. His ascension trail. And I wondered why. Why did he do this? It takes a good amount of time and I am guessing energy to travel that much and against gravity to go up. But he did.
And if he could do this, without an evident to the outside world reason, then I too must be free to move in my own circles.
No one has to understand. No one else has to get on board for the ride.
And while I am a small part of the whole, I am not small. My circles will be evident. My presence known.
Especially if I take the risk to go further and outside lines, like this slug and Jonathon Livingston Seagull. Yeah, I might travel part way alone but I have decided it is worth the price of admission to extraordinary.

And even if I fly alone, to my grandest vision of me...even if I fly alone, I can know that there are others out there. Doing their thing. Getting all extraordinary and stuff. Knowing that it is a wild and delicious ride. Dips and all.
It is always in the knowing that I find my light. In the knowing, feel peace. In the knowing, know.