What I'm Thinking Today

At the beginning of the month it was a lot easier to post every day.  No kids visiting.  Husband at work daily.  This last couple weeks have brought everyone home and on holiday for a while.  It's nice and tough at the same time. 

And on the one hand I can be very content in my own little world.  I rarely get lonely when I am alone.  I either think a lot or escape a lot.  But no one knows or passes any judgement.  On the other hand, it's good for me to be around my family.  They are who I am working through issues with.  And they are the ones who force me to deal with my stuff and make me recognize how resistant to change I have become. 

On the topic of stuff removal, I had another fabulous day of selling stuff at the local flea market.  I even got rid of a bunch of china when a shelf blew over and serious breakage occurred.  It's funny, but it just doesn't bother me that stuff broke.  I picked up the pieces and put them in the trash.  I'm sorry people won't get to buy some pretty things, but I don't have to unpack or pack those things up ever again.  The other vendors were very upset.  But really it was just an alternative way of removing things I no longer want or need.  And I guess if it turns out to bother me after I have slept on it, I'll return here and write about it.

Over and out, good night!

Your Song

I am taking a journey of discovery and healing this month.   Today I have had another ah ha moment.

I am a firm believer that there are no coincidences and that all things both happen for a reason and work together for good to them that love God...  So it shouldn't amaze me that somehow I chanced upon The Actor's Studio interview with Elton John.   Because listening to that program has taken me one more step into the realm of forgiveness and pardon. 

It's a great interview which includes Elton John playing Your Song, a song that always reminds me of my sister.  I used to visit her a lot her freshman year at UCLA.   One visit in particular came flooding back to me.  I have been awfully angry about something that was done to me years ago.  And while listening to this beautiful song, I realized I actually did the same thing to someone else.  There's no way I can apologize for my misdeed.  But what I can do is recognize I didn't do it to hurt another.  I was just very young and thought-less.  And if I had no evil intent, perhaps the person who hurt me didn't either.  If I am willing to forgive myself for messing up, I need to forgive the individual who hurt me. 

Step by step I am undoing the things I have let stop me fully expressing myself.  I'm kinda amazed.  But it doesn't amaze me that the keys to healing should come via music.  That is the most natural thing in the world.  

A Quiet, Empty House

Which comes first, the title or the content?  That has nothing to do with this post, it's just something I was thinking about before starting to write.  In this case I am writing first.  The title will have to reveal itself when I get to the end. 

I have been obsessively watching a TV show on netflix.  I think I will continue to watch until I get every bit of wisdom and help I can get out of it.  It may seem funny to look for direction that way, but this show seems to touch me and my hopes, my dreams, and my past in a way that makes sense and shows me a way to go.

Everyone left for the afternoon.  Dad drove the gang to Boston where one kid lives, one is visiting friends and I am left with a quiet, empty house.  It's nice.  These days I am more sensitive to criticism than I have been since I lived with my parents.  I need these respites from people who love me, want only the best for me, but have definite opinions of what I should and shouldn't do.

I'm not saying they aren't right in their opinions.  It's just easier to watch this funny, quirky, sweet TV show and see if I can't find the impetus to move where I need to move.  It's easier to watch characters dealing with issues similar to mine.  Unlike me, they have writers to give them their lines.  And even when the characters appear tongue-tied or angry or sad or any other emotion that mimics what I am feeling, they manage to say things that are poignant or witty or endearing.  I try to talk all this stuff out, but it always sounds so much better in my head.  A staff of writers would be such an improvement!

Slowly I am finding hope.  A sense that I can be happy.  That I can be loving and caring and not at the effect of either past events or stuff.  It still feels like I have a way to go, but it also feels like I am walking toward the light at the end of the tunnel and not into the deep dark cave.

So what will I call this post?  Hope?  Peace?  Guess I'll just name it for what surrounds me right now.

Change

Change is not easy.  In fact, it is downright difficult!  For habits they say it takes 28 days to change.  But what if you have to change yourself?  Your attitudes, the way you relate to specific people, maybe even the way you think?

And what happens when these changes mean you have to disavow most of your adult life?  In my case, it feels like a gnawing pain in the pit of my stomach when I wake up.  It feels like the adreneline flood of a panic attack.  None of this is very pleasant. 

As I wrote yesterday, I do know what I need to do.  I keep waiting for some sign that what I need to do won't wreck me completely.  My kids are visiting this week, which compounds what I am going through.  It's not as easy to be contemplative when they are here.  They have their own agenda and things they want me to do.  And I know I am being stubborn.  The choice is clear.  Can I make it?  Yes.  But can I let go of  the entire way I have lived my adult life?  Will there be anything left of the me I have been all this time?  Do I want to hold on to her?  And what happens if. . . ?  Would I survive?

Dang.  I wish this was easier.

What I Need to Do

I had thought to write every day this month.  It was a quest to find my artistic voice and see how I could express more creativity.  It is a wonderful thing to go on a quest.  It can be deeply spiritual.  Like a retreat. Or wanting to find meaning in the universe.  It can also be ridiculously absurd.  Like Monty Python's pursuit of the Holy Grail.  But you never know what your quest will reveal.

This one has shown me the fear that is stopping me in almost every aspect of my life.  And it has also shown me what I need to do.  But in order to move forward, I really am going to have to take a huge leap of faith and make a choice.  And that choice is the most terrifying thing I can imagine right now.

As debilitating as my current circumstances are, it seems so much easier to do nothing different.  To live with all the stuff.  To escape in my usual ways.  To give lip service to being an artist, but never make any effort to create daily.  To go through the motions in my relationships with friends & family.  Honestly, I would rather not change.   It means I would have to let go of some old hurts and forgive both myself and others.  And I am very scared.  To do what I need to do opens me up to the possibility of great pain and sorrow.  It could also open me up to a wonderful creative and fulfilling life. 

I know what I need to do.  I still don't know if I can do it.

Run Away, Run Away

I am spitting mad!

A whole bunch of things have happened this week that have really pissed me off:  this stupid man I met at the flea market.  (Why I engage in conversations with stupid men I don't know.  I should just ignore them!)  the UPS driver who cut me off today.  tourist drivers where I live.  my best friend constantly trying to fix me.  I told her something that was bothering me and now she keeps harping on it and wanting to know why and make suggestions.  I don't want help, I just wanted a friend to vent to, just someone I can bitch and bellyache with and not all the time, just once in a while.  I am mad she wants to fix me.  I am mad she sees me as a person who needs to be fixed.  And I probably am a little mad at myself that I can't just tell her to stop doing that.  I spend two full days with her every week in a business venture and it makes me feel stuck.   (and I thought this post would have nothing at all to do with stuck-ness.  urghhh)

I hate being mad.  It triggers a rush of adreneline to my system, which turns on the fight or flight response and my response is always to flee!  And then mad turns to scared  or sad and depressed and staying under the covers for days at a time seems the only solution.

There is a wonderful bit  -- "run away, run away," from Monty Python & The Holy Grail., and that is what I am going to do.  Oh and to all those people who have irritated me this week, again I quote Monty Python in a ridiculous French accent:   "Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries. I blow my nose at you!"

Sometimes it is difficult to let go

My kids are coming to visit this week and they clearly disapprove of all the crap I have collected and strewn about the house and barn.  Sometimes I just think they are upset with me about it.  But they are such incredible, amazing people, that when I can think clearly, I know they are upset because they see how debilitating it is for me.  And while I don't seem able to deal with the stuff on a daily basis, when they are here or a visit is planned, I do make an effort to do something with it all.

Moving stuff from place to place might make it look like there is less.  But honestly if my kids just moved the peas around their plates, I would know they hadn't eaten them.  So who am I fooling by throwing it into boxes and putting it in unused spaces in the house.  Ultimately I need to get rid of the stuff. 

I have gotten sentimental about the things I have collected.  The piles and piles and piles of beautiful white linens.  The vintage clothing I used to wear in high school and college.  The books.  Oh, the books.  It's not that the items themselves are important to me.  It is the memories they represent.  The way some of these things defined me at one point in my life.  When I see them, specially unexpectedly, I get these great nostalgic rushes!

And sometimes things are a barrier to hold back sadness or tough times or anxiety.  Sometimes it is difficult to let go.