The house we live in

Big change tends to stir up those things we repress. It draws out any ugliness we try to cover with the “New” thing or the “New” experience. I guess the real adventure is embracing every part of the process – not just the shiny newness, but all the brokenness that brought you there in the first place. Since we moved I have been a lost and found box of emotion. I have tried detaching, scare tactics, distraction, numbing, close up magic (just kidding) – none of it works. At the end of the day I look like an out of control emotional crazy person, and basically, I am.

Over the last six or so months I have been a little obsessed with personalities. There is a part of me that always wants | needs to know the “whys” of things. Why things happen, why two people can look at the same situation and come to separate conclusions…etc. Back in September a friend introduced me to the Enneagram (read: diagnosed me). The nerdy researcher in me began reading everything and anything I could get my hands on. It’s an absolutely fascinating concept, and dare I say, spot on. I am familiar with various other methods of personality typing, but this one described me perfectly, to the point where I may have had a small identity crisis. If you aren’t familiar, and are willing to see yourself in the best and worst sense, I would encourage you to check it out.

On my quest to gain a better understanding, I realized my biggest enemy, other than grief, is stress. When I am stressed I either get very sick or basically turn into a monster. I could be a monster to those closest to me, those within a 3 to 5,000 mile radius, or just to myself. I researched introvertedness, logical | critical thinking, sensing, feeling, judging; all the ways we as humans emotionally react to any given situation. I am incredibly hard on myself, the expectations I chase are more often than not impossible to catch. When I disappoint myself I take it out on others. When I am angry or lonely or sad or frustrated, but cannot put words or emotion to it – I project. It is a vicious cycle, one I am desperately attempting to correct. Stress inspires a way of acting/reacting that gives me visions of what I would have been like as a cavewoman – absolutely terrifying. If this were a sitcom we would flash to a scene: me in torn clothes, feeding on raw meat, blood trickling down my face, dirt smeared skin, and grunts and growls being my only form of communication. It also gives me an appreciation – like a deep tear inducing appreciation – for friends and family who love me in spite of my gnashing of teeth and/or disappearing acts.

Who we are and why we are those people is an important study. I was insulted at first by my personality typing and I was incredibly unkind to myself as a result. I am thankful for so many of the things that make me, me – but there are scary parts – there is a wildness that needs – not taming so much as love…self love. I read a quote the other day that basically said – the words you say to yourself, become the house you live in. Throat.Punch. The house I live in is weighed down by words of frustration, sadness, and weariness. Words of joy and gratefulness are certainly scattered in there – but self reflection is no joke. I need to strengthen my walls with encouragement, lower my expectations, accept my lack of control. I need to stop withholding grace – be OK with time: time for growth and healing.

I have been horrible at balancing life this last month. I have been difficult, cold, and ambivalent. Here’s to embracing all the messy broken parts – accepting responsibility and owning the process. Part of showing myself grace, is also a practice in showing it to others, better than I have in the past. Recognizing we are all works in progress – and the only way we can do this life is together is by simply loving ourselves and one another. Love has no expectations or pro and con lists; it is kindness, it is grace. And when we do a crappy job, which we ultimately will, love is owning that failure and trying again, over and over and over.

Short update

I am the worst – I cannot sit still long enough to write anything of substance.

We arrived in Maryland March 26th after a very long four days on the road. Two amazingly kind friends/family flew out to help drive the 3,000 miles…would you do that for someone?! I don’t know many people who would. These two hopped on a plane in the middle of a snow storm (last flight out kind of storm) and we could not have done it without them. They helped clean, pack boxes, load the trailer, make our windows so damn sparkling, and on top of it all, they drove 46 hours with us. [Also, pretty sure those crystal clear windows sold the house!] Mick is loving being back to work with his brother; I am absorbing every pilates class I can afford, and hope to start my treacher training mid-June. Our house is under contract and we are praying it appraises well! I think that’s everything? Oh! The dogs are in heaven – despite Buddy eating every toy and piece of paper he can find (and being sick for four days) – they are transitioning seamlessly. Sorry this is so short but it’s about all I can manage at this point.

Thank you for all the texts and voicemails – we seriously have the best people in our lives, near and far!

words on adventure

The thing about adventure is: it is fluid – it is not limited to space and time, and requires an open mind and heart. It will be uncomfortable, at times painful, and scary. But, it can also be life altering – bringing joy and personal growth. Moving to Idaho has been epic in ways I never imagined. The air is ripe with juniper and pine – which, to a gin enthusiast, is basically a dream. The landscape hosts the most extraordinary parts of this country – the conservation of wilderness, the mountains, the massive sky, and the lakes/rivers – it is phenomenal. The people are some of the kindest you will meet outside The South. When they ask how your day is, they actually want to know. Everywhere you go they smile, and offer assistance above and beyond. You might wait 45 minutes at the DMV, and once you get to the counter, you are greeted with a smile and delightful conversation. Honestly – I still cannot get over that part – it’s like Mayberry or a movie lot. For two East Coasters this was the most jarring of culture shocks.

These last four years have been some of the most enlightening of my life. The seemingly organic ways I have grown, perhaps matured, have always felt bigger than me. Even in the trying moments, something in my gut whispered, you are being prepared for so much more. I am still clueless to what that, more, is; however, I would not change a single thing. The relationships we built are of monumental proportions. Seriously. To think in four years we have secured depths and heights with such beautiful souls, makes my insides a little bit mushy and warm. It’s weird…but I kind of like it. These people are kind, generous, broken, loving, forgiving, freaking hilarious, gracious, and stuck with us always and forever.

You may be curious why I am suddenly sentimental, verging on sappy; It looks weird on me, right? Unfortunately, it will continue just a bit longer, bear with me. Our trajectory is taking a sharp right turn – one both unexpected and exciting. In a few short weeks we will be embarking on a new adventure, one taking us back East. It is filled with a lot of excited anticipation, many unknowns, and a constant state of pinching ourselves. If I am being honest, we have been emotionally dehydrated these last two years. We are looking forward to some serious soul feeding times with family and friends. A reset, a filling back up of sorts. Our exit is incredibly bittersweet – it has been a beautiful chapter of life – leaving a permanent bookmark in our story. We are humbled by the love and lives so richly shared with us. It was beyond our wildest hopes to know this place and its people. We will definitely be back here to visit; however, we cannot wait see our Idaho peoples on our coast very soon!

To see the world, things dangerous to come to, to see behind walls, draw closer, to find each other, and to feel. That is the purpose of life. – The Secret Life of Walter Mitty

Image found via Pinterest 

1.25.2015

Three years have passed – I don’t know if it feels like a minute or a lifetime. I am at a loss this year – words are turbulent in my mind yet putting them to paper feels, impossible. I hope we tell her story well; that we are assiduous in living out her legacy, and that we do so fearlessly, profoundly, while always cultivating joy. Hey Lil Bird…we love you, happiest birthday, our darling girl.

IMG_8603

I’ve waited a hundred years
But I’d wait a million more for you
Nothing prepared me for
What the privilege of being yours would do

If I had only felt the warmth within your touch
If I had only seen how you smile when you blush
Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough
Well I would have known
What I was living for all along
What I’ve been living for

Your love is my turning page
Where only the sweetest words remain
Every kiss is a cursive line
Every touch is a redefining phrase

I surrender who I’ve been for who you are
For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart
If I had only felt how it feels to be yours
Well I would have known
What I’ve been living for all along
What I’ve been living for

Though we’re tethered to the story we must tell
When I saw you, well I knew we’d tell it well
With a whisper we would tame the vicious seas
Like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees

-Ryan Curtis O’Neal – Sleeping At Last || Turning Page

 

le divorce

I was married young, in what feels like another life (by my internal clock, very young). I got married the first time for all the wrong reasons. I got married because I was lonely, because I felt pressured, because I craved stability, because I was scared, because it was the right thing to do. I got married, well, because everyone else was doing it. 
 
It was a beautiful day; it was a perfect day, really. I looked adorable despite also looking malnourished. My best friends by my side, in the most beautiful garden, at the most beautiful time of year – cherry blossoms in full bloom, blanketing the grass with blush colored petals. I wore blue shoes and a purple orchid in my hair. I remember most of the day well. I remember my Grandma refusing to attend unless she could wear a magenta dress. She was stunning – her silver hair perfectly contrasting the blinding pink. I remember dancing with my best friends in an empty hall – a moment, that by design, calmed my fright or flight reaction. I remember walking across the vast garden and looking back at the mansion. I stood under a tree (because obviously I was getting sunburned in May) taking in my guests; the laughing and coming together of families and friends. It was beautiful yet it frightened me. I asked my friend, “Why, in this moment, does everything hurt? Why, on this day, this BIG day, am I not overjoyed?” She grabbed both my hands – smiled warmly – and told me I looked beautiful. She told me no matter what happened, I was going to be OK, and even if I wasn’t, she would be there, always. I remember cutting in line at the buffet and I remember not wanting to leave – not wanting to step out into forever. 
 
I know this makes me sound awful, damaged, sad, and broken – like deeply broken. If there was a receipt to be kept – it would have been mine: return policy indefinite. I’m OK with that reaction – I honestly, truly am. Because, for a very long time, I felt that way about myself. Not in some self deprecating way – but in a deep way. I felt toxic. I was fools gold personified, and soon, everyone would know. They would know I was permanently flawed and to run, not walk, in the opposite direction. 
 
Years later, on a day – just like any other – I made a decision to leave that marriage. Even now I have no idea what grabbed hold of me – but I decided that this, this was not my story. I was not going to be defined by whatever was broken inside me; I was going to overcome it. Being OK, being WHOLE, meant more to me than the fear of being alone. If I was going to fail, alienate myself from family and friends, be completely on my own – I was going to do it on my terms.  (Let me be clear – not because I care what you think – but in the context of reality – and I deal in reality: walking away from a marriage does not happen on a random Tuesday afternoon. Ending a marriage takes work and thought and conversation. For this basic, essay-style platform, it’s simplified in four sentences, but in real life – every part of it was shared. There was therapy, painful conversations, logic, lists…etc. I own all of it. There were no whims here – not a single whim).
 
As I ventured out into the unknown I began to unpack those damaged feelings and ideals.  “She is tactless, brash, foul mouthed, and simply needs guidance and direction. She needs a man/a someone, to fix her.  Lies, lies, lies. I learned what I was conditioned to view as personality flaws, are what I now consider amazing qualities. I spent almost a decade convinced I needed to change. And this was by someone who “loved” me. That does a number on the psyche, let me tell you. There were fleeting moments of freedom where I felt adored for exactly who I was. Cherished moments where time stopped, expectations disappeared, and night drives solved all the world’s problems. I came back to these moments often. I re-played them, they gave me life. They reminded me not only who I was, but that I was worthy of so much more. They seem simple, but it was in their simplicity that I realized – it’s not meant to be this difficult. 
 
After some time in solitude, I surrounded myself in joy. For me, joy represented anyone and everyone who made being human, feel effortless. It felt this way because these people, my people, live in and act out love. Love in its most basic forms. I needed basics – I needed grace and acceptance. I needed reassurance that even if I showed up cynical and foul mouthed, I was loved. Period.
 
People have tried (and some still try) to fit me in a box- I let them struggle for bit, it’s an entertaining social experiment. But that box – that relational space where one person can control or manipulate another person – it’s a powerful box. It is not grounded in love or acceptance and can rob people of a joy filled life. It has taken me many years and much dedication to define who I am, and it’s ever evolving. I now have a partner who loves ALL of me – like he actually finds my foul mouth, erratic dance moves, and constant analyzing endearing. I did not need his acceptance or validation – but I am blessed and beyond thankful to have it. He has taught me so much, loved me so richly that now, being human, feels effortless. He is steady. He is kind. He is brave and honest. I am thankful my story remains fluid. I am thankful I play a role in defining it’s ending.

 

Image found via TheFickleTattoo on Etsy – hey, it’s a temporary tattoo if you’re in the market!

words on sorrow

There is sadness in you | There is sadness in me; we all carry it  – some as a badge, some silently. Sadness is all around and often exists voiceless. It is silenced by shame and usually presents as anger, anxiety, control or apathy. Sadness is the act of Sorrow – a feeling of deep distress caused by loss, disappointment, or other misfortune suffered by oneself or others.

People don’t often realize how visible their sorrow is – it screams loudly when lonely or angry, other times it’s the tone in our voice as we cut someone verbally. It always shows its face no matter how hard we fight it. Many people don’t realize they are acting on their sorrow. They may not know loss in the sense of a loved one, but maybe it was a friendship, a job opportunity, the accolade they craved greatly, or simply affection. Sorrow can swallow you whole – it can suck life out of everything you touch and even those with whom you come into contact.

I know, for me, my sorrow is cyclical. Well, specifically my sorrow over Birdie. The holidays are always difficult – which doesn’t really make sense since we never experienced one with her. I guess it has to do with the parts of the holiday that involve coming together. The traditions we carry over or start on our own – the kind you pass down. It’s the simple delights – Christmas lights, make believe, and time well spent. It’s the cuddling on the couch in matching pajamas while the snow falls heavy outside. The things you never knew you wanted to do until you cannot.

Sorrow makes people incredibly uncomfortable. People rarely sit around and discuss their sadness or recognize how they project it, and they most certainly do not want to discuss yours. It’s really too bad because it’s something we all have in common. Although origins may differ, the weight of it is something of which we can all relate. Because I have been open about mine | ours, I have seen various reactions. The most interesting has been those who are constantly waiting for the day we will no longer be sorrowful. Those who ask: do you feel you will be past it soon? Not necessarily over it, but past it? What I find so interesting is they have a sense of desperation in their voice. They desperately need us to be OK! I know it comes from love – when you love someone you want them to be content, without struggle, and back to “normal.” 

I guess what I’m saying is: if someone you love is not OK this holiday season, but is doing their very best to get through the day | the holiday | the year | the month – show them grace. Let them feel safe with you – whether it’s safety to laugh, let loose, or even lose it. You will never expedite their healing, you will never be able to take their pain, but you can do your very best to love them through it. If it takes years or a lifetime, don’t rush them. Don’t push them to fill a void that is inevitably insatiable. Also remember, there is no part of the healing process designated to make you more comfortable. It literally has nothing to do with you. 

It takes courage to live through suffering; and it takes honesty to observe it. – C.S. Lewis

 

words on retirement

I’m starting with a disclaimer: this isn’t actually an essay on retirement, it’s more a metaphor for things like: where do I find my value, how do I spend my time…It’s also about the word No…one of my favorites.

I recently took an early retirement. And by early retirement, I mean, it’s temporary. And by temporary, I mean, I am unemployed by choice for an indefinite amount of time. Doesn’t the term early retirement add a semblance of maturity? You automatically assume it was well thought out, that I have all my finances in order, and if it weren’t 20 degrees out I would be the proud owner of a pimped out golf cart. Not all of that is true…but I am OK if you’re OK.

Some nine years ago between a stressful job and some serious outside emotional factors, I had a mini breakdown. You can stop picturing Britney Spears circa 2007 – it wasn’t that kind of breakdown. It was a perfect storm of emotional stress, which turned into physical stress, which exacerbated into workaholism (not a word, I know this). Because, when you feel out of control…you just hold on tighter, right? Makes total sense. To keep it brief – I had severe chronic fatigue. I would leave work twice a day to take a nap, I would go to bed no later than eight, and I couldn’t eat anything. My health was crashing quickly and it needed to be addressed. I went to see a nutritionist who, over an entire year, helped me turn things around. I continued to work full-time at this point, but with a supportive boss and office mate, I was successful in healing and not getting fired (even if it meant a 12 week liquid diet, very little socializing, and saying NO – like all the time, to everyone) . Once I was clear headed, all biological systems firing accurately, I started to assess life: who I was, how I handled stress and what that meant for my future. After a lot of analyzing, talking it over with Mick, I quit my job and went back to school. I did not know it then, but this was the first step on a very interesting, possibly indefinite, adventure. My two biggest lessons were: learning to say NO and setting boundaries.

There is so much power in the word, NO. It takes a lot of practice to use it and I am still learning how to do so gracefully. A wise woman once said (yea, you know it’s Brene’ Brown)choose discomfort over resentment. Choose the momentary discomfort of saying No to someone, than the long term resentment you will carry by saying Yes and not meaning it.  GLORY! YAAAAS! I’ve been saying no for a long time, but hearing it put in that context, that is exactly what I’m talking about! It takes courage to say No, but it is incredibly freeing. Growing up, when I would ask my mom for something – her first response was a question: are you prepared for both answers? It used to drive me nuts because I was never prepared for both! I wanted exactly what I wanted, how I wanted it, and had zero flexibility – which obviously guarantees a meltdown. But she was on to something! Her response has evolved into a different question. Instead of preparing to hear the word No, I have a barometer by which I choose discomfort over resentment: Does what I’m doing/being asked to do have eternal value? If it doesn’t, I say Nope. When I use the word eternal, I don’t mean it strictly in a spiritual sense, but as something tangible. Meaning – did working those 12 hours, meeting that deadline, or solving that staffing issue make me a better wife or friend? Is this TPS Report going to alter the course of my life? And better yet, is staying up all night worrying about it or taking it out on my family making life easier?

Other than getting giddy using the word NO, I also made myself a promise. I promised to never sacrifice relationships or my physical/emotional health for ANYTHING. This meant setting boundaries and being honest about what I could handle. It meant sharing aloud how I felt, instead of internalizing. I realized I was responsible for 80-90% of the pressure I felt. Stress was a tactic I used to avoid tough things in my own life, a cycle of proving myself…to myself, seeing life as a challenge instead of something to enjoy. Growing up I was surrounded by people who chose work over self; play and relaxation were foreign concepts. I had negative associations like, a career was 100% about success even to the detriment of a personal life. When I adjusted my thinking, added balance, joy, and self care – success became something different entirely. Success became: quality time, getting a 4.0 in college, laughing till I cried with the BEST people, doing things for myself like being creative, singing, pilates…etc. Also, being deliberate where I spent my time and with whom; turning down social events, was another huge thing. Life.Changing.

Boundaries

I am NOT saying everyone take an early retirement. Remember, this is a metaphor. Do not destroy your computer to Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangster, please! I am just saying, our eternal success is far more important than any dollar amount or lifestyle! Actively choosing eternity over all else, only enriches our lives and the lives of those around us. Finding value in relationship, learning to say no and setting boundaries changed the course of my life and continues to do so. I will always walk away from the things that deter these achievements. Hopefully this will prevent some of you from making the same mistakes I did. If you don’t, please, above all else, avoid umbrellas and white vehicles in the midst of your breakdown.