Shadow Boxer

2012-01-10T15:34:00.000-08:00

I've been busy, too busy to write or follow. I want to find a way back to balance for myself. Deep breathe. Take care my friends.

Gratitude

2011-12-30T06:53:00.000-08:00

Things I'm grateful for today.

A night out with beautiful ladies.
Delicious food last night, Italian sausage ravioli, goat cheese spread with fig preserves.
Good books to read. "Bel Canto" by Anne Patchett and "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo".
Above average temperatures which make December bearable.
My Christmas tree and ornaments are safely packed away for next year.
A clean apartment.
A lovely little black cat by the name of Bagheera who is visiting.
Four days off.
Time to myself.
A job I enjoy and gives meaning to my life.
A lovely, complicated man.
A sense of balance in my life.
Friends, both in real life and here.

What are you thankful for today?

2011-12-27T09:44:00.000-08:00

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing, and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there. –Rumi

As I drove to Katie's on Christmas day to pick her up I started thinking about quilts. I read once that quilters make intentional mistakes while constructing their quilts. Whether this is true or merely a myth, I don't know but I do like the idea of it.

None of us is perfect, nor can we ever be. To make an intentional mistake while making something is to remind us of that fact that we are imperfect. I'm wondering if we're all imperfect to remind us to have compassion and patience with each other.

2011-12-16T09:54:00.000-08:00

I love this photo of Katie. It was taken just this past weekend. Katie is full on herself. There is no artifice with Katie, nothing hidden. What you see is what you get. She is wrapped around and through my heart. My love for her is pure. I know who I am when I am with her. I am her mom, her guardian, her voice.

Four years ago my ex husband and I took our last holiday together. We didn't know then that it was our last holiday but there were signs. My ex husband sulked for much of the trip, wouldn't speak to me, ignored me as much as he could. I refused to let his sulking affect me. I walked on the beaches of Maui, soaking up the sights and sounds of the ocean, storing away memories to last me for a good long time.

Near the end of our trip I wrote up a list. It was a list of all the things I wanted in a partner. Sadly, my husband didn't really have any of the traits I listed. I took my time making up this list. It included things like kindness, compassion, thoughtfulness, spirituality, a wonderful sense of humor, intelligence and smiling blue eyes. It was quite specific.

I took the list down to the beach at low tide and dug a hole. I offered up a prayer to the universe, a wish, a hope, for a partner who would truly be my partner. Then I buried my list and gave it up to the ocean.

Last month I met a lovely man who appears to be conjured from my list. I look into his smiling blue eyes and feel like I have always known him. He asked me once why we hadn't met thirty years ago and I told him because we had not yet grown up.

I love this man and this terrifies me. It scares me because I still struggle with feeling worthy of being loved. It scares me because I wonder if I am strong enough now to just be myself or if I will morph into an impossibly twisted caricature of myself. I know I'm not a bad person, but I am a complicated person. I want to be like Katie, purely myself and for that to be enough, for me and for my partner.

2011-12-13T05:01:00.000-08:00

I'm superstitious. I like to believe that I'm not, but alas, I am. My mother's life was filled with portents (why am I writing like this, using words like portents?). I always pooh-poohed (help, I've fallen into a Jane Austen novel and I can't get out!) her superstitions but apparently I also embraced them deep down inside.

Last month I met a lovely man who brought me these tulips one day when I was sick. He cooks me supper, he wraps me in his arms, he makes me laugh. I am reluctant to write much because of course, I am superstitious. My mother did her job well apparently.

Suffice it to say (I swear I have not been reading Jane Austen) that I am content and well.

2011-12-05T12:14:00.000-08:00

I had to go to a meeting for Katie this morning, a complex needs meeting which kind of says it all. Lovely Miss Katie has some severe behavioral issues. Last month there were 127 incidents of her banging her head and she pulled her own hair 143 times. Her behaviors are way up, almost triple of what they were in September and nobody knows why.

Katie goes to see her psychiatrist in two weeks and perhaps he can shed some light and prescribe something to reduce her anxiety. We did try that in September but it was highly unsuccessful, the dose of drug too high for her and then it took another three months to get into see the psychiatrist again. A long, slow process.

We also talked about what will happen with Katie in June as she will be twenty years old and too old to continue with school. A couple of agencies that deal with people like Katie, high needs, high behaviors, were mentioned and now I'll do the legwork and check out the agencies.

And so it goes. I left the meeting feeling guilty, guilty that I cannot care for my own daughter, but I can't. Guilty that she is the way she is, even though it is neither my fault nor hers. Guilty that I sometimes go a day without thinking about her, just thankful that there are others to care for her now.

I try not to think of the future too much because it is too scary to think about. My baby girl getting old, me even older, what will become of us? Today I bought a gingerbread house kit for Katie. Her sister will put it together when she comes home from Vancouver and Miss Katie will eat it on Christmas day while her family sits and eats and talks and laughs. I'll be happy to have my children around my table and Katie will be happy to have a gingerbread house to herself. It's all good.

2011-12-02T06:12:00.000-08:00

Decorated tree down by the river.

"The irony of hiding the dark side of our humanness is that our secret is not really a secret at all. How can it be when we're all safeguarding the very same story? It's almost a joke--a laughable admission that each one of us has a shadow self, a bumbling, bad-tempered twin. Big surprise! Just like you, I can be a jerk sometimes. I do unkind, cowardly things, harbor unmerciful thoughts, and mope around when I should be doing something constructive. Just like you, I wonder if life has meaning; I worry and fret over things I can't control; and I often feel overcome with a longing for something that I cannot even name. For all of my strengths and gifts, I am also a vulnerable and insecure person, in need of connection and reassurance. This is the secret I try to keep from you, and you from me, and in doing so we do each other a grave disservice." Elizabeth Lesser (Broken Open)

I had read this book awhile ago and found this quote on a blog yesterday. It reminded me of how much we are all alike. We all carry our secrets, our fears, our wounds, wrapping our arms around them, trying to hide them from others, when all around us, others are doing the same. Everyone wants to be loved and accepted, just as they are. Everyone fears rejection. Nobody likes feeling vulnerable because vulnerable can lead to hurt. Deep down we are all children asking our mothers to love us, please just love me.

A short while ago I asked a man out, a first for me, although he doesn't believe me. I quite like this man. He makes me laugh and I find him endlessly interesting. He holds my hand when we walk to together and lays his arm across my hip when we lay in bed together. He hugs me often, which I love, and he talks to me, tells me what he's thinking about. He likes to believe he is a hard ass. In reality he is a teddy bear, looking for the same thing we all are, love and acceptance.

And what do I want? I want to let go of my old fears, my old insecurities and just be myself. Take me or leave me, this is me, although I guess technically, that would include my fears and my insecurities. Hmmmm. My fears are my problem though and I want to lay them down.

I am almost fifty years old. I have lived half a century which is something I have a hard time wrapping my head around because I still feel like a girl so much of the time. It's time. Time to let go of this not feeling like I am enough, that I am worthless and unacceptable, that I am lacking something. This burden was given to me as a child by people who were themselves wounded by their own families and the world. They never meant to hurt me, to make me feel less than. Time to lay it down. Time to just be me.

2011-11-27T13:04:00.000-08:00

I've been sick all week. I'm still sick today. For the first time in almost two years I canceled my plans with Katie. I'm thankful there are others who can care for her.

2011-11-20T17:03:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago I started talking with a nice man at work. We talk a lot, everyday. Yesterday he came with me and Katie to the mall. This man sang to my daughter, he fed her his french fries, he was beyond kind to my baby girl. I am seriously in like. Just saying.

2011-11-14T04:31:00.000-08:00

"Oh, the comfort - the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person - having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away." ~Dinah Craik

Gratitude

2011-11-12T07:10:00.000-08:00

Things I'm grateful for today.

Chickadees.
That we didn't get snow until this morning.
Printed up photos to take to work and hang in our IV room. It cheers me and my patients.
My daughter is visiting for the weekend.
A day off yesterday. I caught up on things, baked, had lunch out with my mum and daughter and then loafed, even had time to watch a movie.
Blog friends.
Real life friends.
Homemade cookies.
A job interview on Monday.
A sense of balance. I still tip over but I am now able to right myself.
I was assertive with a doctor, told him that he must be gentle with me because if he is abrupt and critical with me, I will become tense and make more mistakes.
Learning to value myself.
Learning to have boundaries.
Always with the learning:)
The universe never stops giving me what I need.
A good, long sleep last night.

What are you thankful for today?

Forgive and Forget

2011-11-09T16:46:00.000-08:00

Forgive-to renounce anger or resentment against.

I had supper with my mother and my son Sunday night. My mother is elderly but forgets nothing. She has a litany of old hurts and wrongs committed against her that she brings up on a regular basis.

My ex husband once remarked that my mother swore, an aunt of mine told my mother that she was not wanted in Canada, my sister told my mother that "someone always gets stuck with the old". I could go on. My mother unrolls her list in her mind and goes through it daily it seems. She is not a forgiving soul. She likes to keep her wounds fresh, pulls the scabs off daily so that she never forgets, never forgives.

I am not so different apparently. Forgiveness doesn't come easily. I nurse old wounds. Time to let go and forgive.

Forgive my ex husband for hurting me.
Forgive my parents for their mistakes.
Forgive friends who have hurt me.
Forgive co-workers who have harassed me.
Forgive ex lovers.
Forgive brothers and sisters.
Forgive myself.

It's time.

Scared of My Own Shadow

2011-11-06T07:43:00.000-08:00

". . . you find your genius by looking in the mirror of your life. Your visible image shows your inner truth, so when you're estimating others, what you see is what you get. It therefore becomes critically important to see generously, or you will get only what you see; to see sharply, so that you discern the mix of traits rather than a generalized lump; and to see deeply into dark shadows, or else you will be deceived.” (James Hillman, The Soul’s Code)

I found this quote over at RUTH'S and her blog post got me to thinking.

It's been an awful week. I like to believe that I have grown over these past five or six years, that I have evolved, and then something happens, I cause something to happen and old patterns reassert themselves, refuse to be denied.

I always find it difficult to look within when I am twisting and turning, raging out of control, but I did yesterday. I am angry and hurt, sad and vulnerable, except I don't want to be sad or vulnerable. After all, vulnerable is so vulnerable. It leaves you wide open doesn't it? A target really, or perhaps a magnet. I'm not sure. So sad and vulnerable is scary for me, for all of us perhaps.

I learned early on, as a small child growing up with a raging father, to get angry. I can see now that my father was sad and feeling vulnerable, although I never would have been able to say that to him if he were still alive. I don't recall ever once having a conversation with my father. He was a dictator, his family, his children, his unwilling subjects. But he was also a very sad man unable to face his own demons, terrified of the world and himself. He built a wall of anger around himself, it was palpable to me, even as a child. I could see the rage in him, seething always, just below the surface.

So this past week I got angry. I raged and railed. I hurled invectives. I was out for blood. And then yesterday, my very complicated relationship with a man who was both lover and friend, provided me with some insight into myself. He was the subject of my week long attacks. Yesterday I persisted with my attacks. He allowed me to rage and then he said he said he was not my enemy that he was in fact my friend.

And then I realized that I wasn't so much angry as I was beyond sad. What's wrong with being sad really? When your heart is broken? When hopes and dreams have died? Isn't that the time you should be sad? Isn't that the appropriate response?

Time once again to look deeply and sharply within, too look at my own ugliness and to accept it for what it is, deep hurt and sadness which is not really a bad thing I'm thinking, just a human thing.

2011-10-30T06:50:00.001-07:00

Self Portrait

It doesn't interest me if there is one God
or many gods.
I want to know if you belong or feel
abandoned.
If you know despair or can see it in others.
I want to know
if you are prepared to live in the world
with its harsh need
to change you. If you can look back
with firm eyes
saying this is where I stand. I want to know
if you know
how to melt into that fierce heat of living
falling toward
the center of your longing. I want to know
if you are willing
to live, day by day, with the consequence of love
and the bitter
unwanted passion of your sure defeat.

I have heard, in that fierce embrace, even
the gods speak of God.
—David Whyte

Thank you to Deb Shucka.

The Outsider

2011-10-23T15:11:00.000-07:00

I've felt like an outsider all my life. First with my family, then in school, even with friends, at work, in social circles, at the gym, pretty much everywhere. Coupled with the fact that I need time by myself to recharge my batteries, I often find myself feeling isolated.

The days are getting much shorter here, very quickly, and with the shorter days comes the cold, the snow, the dark. All things which put me off going out. In the winter time I get home from work, put on my pajamas, eat supper and wait for bed. It's a form of hibernation I suppose but it's also very lonely.

It's not just the shorter days, last week my middle daughter moved to Vancouver. She was already home for a visit this weekend, but it only made me realize how much I miss her. I feel like I'm losing her, which is crap, I know, but my brain gets cranky and starts spewing out all kinds of shit when I get down.

So the dark dog of depression lives. He's back, although this time it feels more like a huge, black bird with wings spread wide. The shadow that he casts with his wings feels dark and dead and cold. I just get so tired of this feeling. I take my anti-depressants, I exercise, I take vitamin D, I try so hard to feel cheerful and optimistic and still this damned disease finds me.

Do you think that people that feel like outsiders are more prone to depression?

Does everyone feel like an outsider at times? More often?

Tell me what you think, please.

2011-10-21T21:09:00.000-07:00

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.
Lao Tzu

My River Walk

2011-10-16T19:23:00.000-07:00

"Trees are the earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heaven." ~Rabindranath Tagore

I walked down by the river this morning, shocked as always at how beautiful the world can be, storing away memories and photos for the long, cold winter ahead.

I thought I was done

2011-10-15T06:46:00.000-07:00

This isn't a particularly good photo at all but it is a photo of one of the my favorite places in Edmonton. I took this photo standing on the south bank of the North Saskatchewan River, looking northwest. The bridge you see is the Quesnell Bridge, one of the many bridges in my city. This is where I walk so often, there are pathways on both sides of the river that go on for miles, literally. It's where I go to calm myself, to restore my soul. I have no ocean nearby sadly but this place, these trees, this river, they do it for me and I'm thankful for that.

I thought I was done here. Done writing, thought I had nothing more to say and then I read some blogs this morning, posts that brought tears to my eyes and I realized, I'm not done. Not yet.

I have a hard time letting go of people. Things, not so much, they're easy to get rid of, but people, people hold my interest, they stay with me. I've often thought of this as a fault of mine, to not be able to let go of someone but maybe it's not. Maybe it's about hope, hope that they will blossom.

When Katie was a week old we were told by the ophthalmologist that she may become blind because of the cataract that she was born with. She didn't. Another doctor warned us that Katie may never walk. She did. A bitch of a woman down at the school board told me I was limiting Katie by teaching her sign language. Katie signs, she communicates, she never shuts up with her hands. Katie taught me about hope and I didn't even know she was doing that.

The older I get, the more childlike I become and I think that's a good thing. I think young children have it right. They look at the world with wonder. They laugh, they dance, they are their own true selves. They have hope. We need more hope in this world.

Gratitude

2011-10-10T07:49:00.000-07:00

It's Thanksgiving today. Things I'm thankful for.

Trees turning color outside my bedroom window.
A long, fast walk with my middle daughter in the river valley yesterday.
Sore muscles this morning from doing the stairs with my daughter yesterday.
Homemade pumpkin pie. I've finally mastered pie crusts.
Teaching my middle daughter how to make my mother's stuffing, no recipe.
Working with my ex husband to solve problems.
My small, cozy home.
Sunshine and warm weather in October.
Spending time connecting with friends this weekend.
Good books to read, "The Five Things We Cannot Change
And the Happiness We Find by Embracing Them" by David Richo.
Watching Sandra Bullock movies all weekend.
I don't have to care for Katie full time. I love that girl but she is hard to take care of.
Hugs.

What are you thankful for today?

2011-10-07T06:09:00.000-07:00

My mother's hands.

I finished my photography course and learned a lot. Now I just need to practice. I've been so busy these past few months I've hardly had time to take photos. On the up side, I have a life.

I signed my divorce papers last night which seems like it should come with more fanfare than just sitting in a lawyers office signing four copies of everything and handing over my marriage certificate. The papers will be filed and in two to three months I will be officially divorced, although apparently I still have to wait for eight weeks after my final divorce decree to remarry. Snort!

My middle daughter has been staying with me for the past week, although it feels like longer. She worked late last night so it was just me and my son home and it was so quiet and peaceful. He laid on the couch and studied and I puttered in the kitchen and at the computer. My daughter carries her own energy with her, it's very intense and I don't think she is aware of it. I wasn't until she moved back in to be honest.

I said no to sex this past week which is good for me. I have a hard time saying no to sex, because it feels good but because I am also that desperate to be loved. I said no, I allowed myself to have boundaries which felt good actually. Katie's group home also asked me to work this weekend and take care of Katie. Once again I said no, although it was a struggle, and I'm glad I did. I am Katie's mother, not her caregiver anymore. I want to enjoy my time with her, not feel wrung out by the time I leave her. Miss Katie is also a swirling vortex of energy.

Boundaries, something I realize now looking back, were never respected in my family. I have a rather vivid memory of sitting in the bathtub, about age ten, when my sister opened the bathroom door to show a visitor around the house. "This is the bathroom," she said, "And that's Deborah." Like it was the most normal thing in the world to show a stranger your naked little sister. WTF!

My mother continues to ignore my boundaries but I'm getting better at telling her to mind her own business and she's getting better at hearing that from me. Boundaries were never respected in her family either. Her own mother used her as the go between to carry letters back and forth between her mother and her mother's lover during the war. Not something a fourteen year old should have to deal with.

So I continue on, learning, trying, failing, picking myself up once again. And then the world is so kind as to offer up it's gifts to me. This morning as I opened my bedroom curtains, the world still dark, I heard the call of wild geese through the open window. Wow. And thank you.

Book Club

2011-10-04T15:26:00.000-07:00

My book club met this past weekend. We went to a movie once, "The Jane Austen Book Club" which was a very good movie but as we walked out of the movie, one friend turned to me and said, "We're not that kind of a book club are we?"

We more of a book club/wine club/support group. I'm guessing there are a lot of book clubs like that. We do read books and even talk about the books, a little. But the discussions tend to wander far and wide.

Some of the topics we covered on Saturday night, including but not limited to:

-men
-children
-goat cheese
-erectile dysfunction
-spousal abuse
-sexual abuse
-fetishes
-bondage
-Tarot cards
-empty nests
-children who stay at home
-downsizing
-astrology
-Rosen Method Bodywork
-sex

As I said, our discussions tend to veer off topic. The next book we're reading is "Loving Frank" by Nancy Horan. I've already read it, pretty good book.

Couch Surfing

2011-09-30T19:40:00.000-07:00

My middle daughter, the one who moved out in March, has just moved back in with me. She's only staying for a couple of weeks, until her job is finished. Then she's moving to Vancouver to live with her dad.

When she told me that she was moving to Vancouver, I was shocked and sad. For a moment I felt like she was choosing her dad over me and then I dragged my head out of my ass and realized this is about her. She is a young woman, she wants to experience some of the world. She still thinks someplace else is better than where she is right now.

So I told her that although I would be sad to see her leave, I was happy for her. It's scary to pick up and move to another city and I'm proud of her for doing that. But I will miss her something awful. We usually have supper together once or twice a week and we often go to movies together. Sigh. I'll need a new movie partner. I know that I can go to movies by myself but part of the enjoyment of a movie for me is talking about it afterwards.

For the next two weeks she's sleeping on my rather small couch, poor thing. The only good thing about the couch is that it's in front of the TV which has now been plugged in and attached to cable. She likes to sleep with the TV on.

I worry that she and her dad won't get along. Worry that she'll be lonely. Worry that she'll be unhappy. Worry that she's trying to run away from her problems here. Just worry in general. But I keep my mouth shut. This is her life, not mine. When she wants my opinion, she'll ask for it. And then she'll do what she wants anyway. Isn't that how the world works?

For A Friend

2011-09-28T05:47:00.000-07:00

"Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people."
Carl Jung

"When an inner situation is not made conscious, it appears outside as fate."
Carl Jung

2011-09-25T14:01:00.000-07:00

"You can achieve wisdom in three ways. The first way is the way of meditation. This is the most noble way. The second way is the way of imitation. This is the easiest and least satisfying way. Thirdly, there is the way of experience. This is the most difficult way." Confucius

Apparently I have chosen the most difficult way. Typical, although not unusual I don't think.

2011-09-24T16:18:00.000-07:00

How do you love someone who hates themselves? You can't. They won't let you.

How do you stop thinking about them? Haven't figured that one out.

How do you leave them alone to work out their problems? You keep telling yourself, over and over and over again, let them be.

Why would you love someone who hates themselves? Because it feels familiar.

Who did you know who hated themselves? Me. My Dad.

Is it love? Or just a pattern repeating itself? Good question. Not sure.

What is love? The feeling that it is okay to be your true self with another and to be okay with their own true self.

Will this stop hurting? Yes, eventually.

What do I need to do myself? Stop flinging myself headlong into relationships. Slow down and listen to my own self. She knows stuff.

What are you going to do now? I'm going to see a comedy show with a girlfriend tonight. I'm going to live my life the way I want to live it. I want to laugh, to travel, to spend time with friends and family. I want to look in the mirror and truly love myself. And that last sentence just made me cry.

A Place of Wisdom

2011-09-22T15:40:00.000-07:00

Last night I said goodbye to a lovely man. A man who lies to himself and others. I man who hates himself and sabotages his life over and over. A man who looks good at first glance but on closer inspection is a little tattered, like this poor dragonfly. He asked me why I was being so kind to him, even as I said goodbye. I don't hate him and I feel enormous compassion for him. I've been there. I've hated myself, sabotaged my life, lied to myself and others. I'm no different. I understand him because I was him.

But I have grown and I know the difference now between being honest with myself and lying to myself. I found my inner wisdom and I take the time to listen to myself. Sometimes. I'm still working on that one. But I did discover a place of wisdom inside myself that is far wiser than the woman who usually walks in this body. It's good to know that I have that place within me, even if I choose not to go there on a regular basis.

I think I'm starting to figure this love thing out, for I do love this man, but I can let go of him. I don't feel like I have to cling to those I love. I can be separate and myself, even apart and still love.

Karen at .OPTIONS for a Better World gave me some good advice a couple of weeks ago. She suggested I accept and then decide. So I did. I accepted what I had and then decided. It was a much more peaceful way of coming to a decision and I thank her for that.

I hope one day the lovely man can come to love himself and accept himself, as he is, even the nasty bits.

Happy Birthday To Me

2011-09-20T05:37:00.000-07:00

Blue heron, Willows Beach, Victoria, BC.

It's my birthday today. I am young again, or maybe still. Part of me never grew up, I cherish that part. Others don't always, but I do. It is a gift to enjoy rolling on the floor with small children and dogs. To love running for no reason or purpose but just to feel your body move. To still look in wonder at the world around me, the trees, the sky, the people. Always I am fascinated by people. What makes them tick. Why they do the things they do. Why they hurt the way they hurt. Mostly I feel young because I never stop asking questions, not just of others but of myself.

I never did manage to take a holiday this year. Both times I had time booked off, a job came up. That's okay. Next year for my fiftieth birthday I want to be in Rome, or Venice, or Florence, even Paris would do. We'll see. "The best laid plans of mice and men..." applies to women as well. I'm hopeful though.

Enjoy your day. Enjoy the leaves changing color, the sun shining, or not, the clouds moving through the sky, enjoy your life. Hug someone you love, tell someone you love them, be kind to a stranger for no reason today. Live.

It's Okay

2011-09-15T19:58:00.000-07:00

I'm learning to be myself. Learning that me is not so bad.
It's okay to be smart and have a potty mouth and to love dirty jokes.
It's okay to cry with my patients and to hug them as well.
It's okay to be sarcastic and to still enjoy swinging on swings.
It's okay to laugh out loud and talk and hug people I love.
It's okay to try something and not like it, or like it.
It's okay to cry at the drop of a hat and get depressed.
It's okay to walk fast and get drunk easily, or to not drink at all.
It's okay to share my thoughts with others.
It's okay to not keep secrets.
It's okay to be imperfect, flawed, human.
It's okay to be complicated and change my mind.
It's okay to be aggressive sometimes and soft sometimes.
It's okay to be selfish sometimes.
It's okay to to have issues and problems that I still struggle with.
It's okay to eat chocolate for breakfast.
It's okay to try and fail.
It's okay to be me.

It's okay to love me.

2011-09-12T07:37:00.000-07:00

"We need, in love, to practice only this: letting each other go. For holding on comes easily; we do not need to learn it." Rainer Maria Rilke

My Family

2011-09-11T08:26:00.000-07:00

I remember sending my kids off to school ten years ago. My son's girlfriend came into the house and said, "You need to turn the TV on. A plane just hit the Twin Towers in New York." I didn't believe her. Until I turned the TV on.

My not soon enough ex husband is a pilot. He flies for a major Canadian air line. He was flying that morning, the morning that planes flew into towers, or the Pentagon, or crashed into fields. I sat watching TV all morning, imagining the worst.

My husband called me from the airport when he landed in Vancouver. I told him what had happened. I told him that he needed to come home. Now. That all of the planes had been grounded over North America. That he needed to rent a car and drive home now. I was very insistent. He got to the car rental places before things got bad. He drove home. He understood what I didn't say to him. That I didn't feel safe. That I needed to see my family together, intact, safe.

When my kids got home from school that day, I didn't want to let them out of my sight. I wanted my family home and safe. That was all that mattered to me.

I don't think I was the only one. I think that day in September ten years ago, we all pulled our families tighter.

What Do I Want?

2011-09-09T12:43:00.000-07:00

This photo reminds me of myself, covering my eyes, avoiding, refusing to see. I have written very little lately, partly because I've been so busy with work and partly as a way of avoiding very difficult questions that I need to ask myself. It's just so much easier to pretend that everything is fine, or so it seems. Of course lying to one's self comes at a heavy price.

It has been a difficult year. These past nine months have seen me move from my home of twenty years into an apartment. My son moved back home with me and my middle daughter moved out. I changed hospitals and only yesterday found out that I will have some income security for the next six months, a temporary, full time position. Yay! Added to this mix has been my not soon enough ex, his brain tumor (benign) and a divorce that just wouldn't happen.

Life has only just now become more peaceful. I've settled into my new home. My son has gone back to school. I have a new job which I enjoy and I'm good at. I'm starting to rebuild my life and branch out in fact. Next week I start a photography course. I bought tickets to see some comedy shows. I socialize with friends more often. I've gone back to the gym. Miss Katie is happy enough. Life is probably the most peaceful it's been in many years.

And yet. There is still dissatisfaction. Dissatisfaction with my own personal life. Dissatisfaction with myself that I am not asking myself the hard questions. Dissatisfaction that I am avoiding the truth because isn't the truth just so damned hard to take sometimes? Especially when it doesn't mesh with what you want?

And that's the problem. What I want and what I can have. Is the problem with what I want? Or what I can have? Or both? In truth I can only change what I want. Do I want to change what I want? And that's the question I've been avoiding I think.

2011-09-07T21:14:00.000-07:00

"People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within." ~Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Love

2011-09-02T05:55:00.000-07:00

"Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. . . . It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more."
-- Erica Jong

Gratitude

2011-08-27T06:04:00.000-07:00

Things I'm grateful for this week.

I'm easing into my new job and getting comfortable.
Can even answer some people's questions.
Lovely new co-workers.
Three sisters that have known Katie for eight years and who have all worked with Katie.
Katie's home is short staffed today and I was supposed to have Katie for twelve hours, the three sisters called me and will be taking Katie for half the day. Angels. Truly.
A late summer.
My son got accepted to school.
Supper with my daughter last night.
My children who gently push me to be a better person.
Visit with my mum and my sister last night.
I smiled and listened and made an effort to accept my sister just as she is.
The realization that growing up means accepting and meeting others as they are and not how you would like them to be.
Cleans sheets on my bed last night.
Homemade pecan tarts.

What are you thankful for today?

Life Is Good

2011-08-23T16:32:00.000-07:00

I met up with my husband this past weekend. We decided to get together and work out our own divorce agreement because six lawyers total and one financial advisor couldn't seem to make it work. I figured we couldn't do any worse and it would be a lot cheaper as neither my husband nor I charge $400/hour.

He texted me where to meet him. Of course we ended up at two different coffee shops. The story of our life together really but it made me laugh this time. We sat down and hammered out an agreement that works for both of us, in about 45 minutes. It took us three years to get to this point.

The anger I felt towards him has melted away, as has the bitterness that I have carried with me these past three years. I'm able to forgive him all the shit he put me through and able to forgive myself for all the shit I put him through. It feels good and I am thankful. I never wanted to hurt him, I just didn't want to be married to him anymore. Of course rejection hurts but that was not my intention.

I feel lighter. I have also been making a conscious effort to "let go" this week. When I start obsessing about things, when I want things to go my way, I remind myself to "let go". And it helps. Instead of grasping, I'm waiting, which is not my nature but I'm practicing. It doesn't hurt that the weather has been lovely, the birds singing, the sun shining, I'm getting enough sleep and I have a key lime pie in the fridge, that I made, from scratch. It's like crack people. It's right up there with creme brulee. It's a good week and I am thankful. Today, right now, life is good.

Letting Go

2011-08-21T09:24:00.000-07:00

I took my mother down to the river yesterday for a walk. She's like me, she likes the trees, the plants, the wildness but can't get to it much because of her disabilities. While we were down there, wandering down a paved path we came upon a couple, standing just off the path with hands outstretched. I thought at first they might be picking berries but they didn't move. As we got closer it became apparent what they were doing. They were hand feeding the wild birds.

It was amazing and the couple was kind enough to share their seeds with us. We held out our hands and the chickadees landed, just long enough to take a seed or two and then they flew back into the trees. You couldn't make the birds do anything, you had to wait for them to come to you. It was a lesson in letting go of expectations for me.

Which got me to thinking and googling. I ended up at THIS SITE.

I liked this bit best.

"Letting Go"
* To "let go" does not mean to stop caring; it means I can't do it for someone else.
* To "let go" is not to cut myself off; it's the realization I can't control another.
* To "let go" is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.
* To "let go" is to admit powerlessness, which means the outcome is not in my hands.
* To "let go" is not to try to change or blame another; it's to make the most of myself.
* To "let go" is not to care for, but to care about.
* To "let go" is not to fix, but to be supportive.
* To "let go" is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.
* To "let go" is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes, but to allow others to affect their own destinies.
* To "let go" is not to be protective; it's to permit another to face reality.
* To "let go" is not to deny, but to accept.
* To "let go" is not to nag, scold or argue, but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
* To "let go" is not to criticize and regulate anybody, but to try to become what I dream I can be.
* To "let go" is not to adjust everything to my desires, but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself in it.
* To "let go" is to not regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.
* To "let go" is to fear less and love myself more.

And when I fail, as I will, try again.

As I See It

2011-08-19T20:00:00.000-07:00

I am very short sighted, in oh so many ways, both literally and figuratively. Without my glasses the world is a blur, kind of like this photo.

My life has felt very blurry lately. I talked to a friend today about my life, about how I don't know what to do with my life, about how I feel lost. For so many years I took care of my children and my family. My children are all grown now. My marriage is dead. My dogs and cats are all gone. My garden is gone. All the things that kept me rooted in place are gone. He suggested I get out and live my life.

Except I'm thinking that the kids and the house and the garden and the dogs were all a good way to avoid my life. I got pregnant at twenty and I wonder if subconsciously it was a way of avoiding making decisions about my life, about what I wanted.

It seems like so long ago that I was young. I remember dreaming about becoming a photographer. One day I even got up the gumption to drive to the University of Calgary because they offered courses in photography. That's as far as I got, driving through the campus, not even stopping. I didn't know how to leave the small town I grew up. I didn't know how to get to university. I didn't really believe it was possible.

And now? What's my excuse now? There isn't one really. I am free to do as I please. So what do I please?

I had a dream last night. Someone handed me an envelope of old photos. I took them and said, "I took these when I used to be a photographer." The photos were beautiful and slightly blurred, almost like a painting by Seurat. The dream reminded me of what it is I truly love to do.

A Holiday

2011-08-18T06:24:00.000-07:00

This photo was taken 3 1/2 years ago in Maui, a most beautiful place. Each night we would sit on the beach and watch the sun slowly disappear into the ocean. That was the last time I had a holiday. Since then I have been working and dealing with le divorce. I need a freaking holiday. Last night I crawled into bed at 5:20 pm. That just isn't right. I'm worn out and need a break.

I've been waiting for le divorce to be finalized and to have a permanent position before I go on holiday but that hasn't happened yet. I want someone to travel with but that hasn't happened yet either. Yesterday at work I flipped the bird to a co-worker but really I wanted to punch him in the face. Time for a holiday.

I have September 10-17th off. Any suggestions?

Too Much

2011-08-16T17:49:00.000-07:00

i am too much

my first look
into my child's face
left my heart exposed
vulnerable

i am extreme
no in between
i am all or nothing
love or hate

i try to find
a balance
a place between
to love

my heart cries out
bleeds me dry
and still it
longs for more

i would have my heart
break a thousand times
before i could stop
loving

i cannot stop
it is my breath
my way
my gift

I wrote this in 2007 and apparently I am unchanged.

2011-08-12T21:28:00.000-07:00

"Mindful presence means that one person enters the interior garden of the other and walks through it without trampling any of the flowers, without blaming anyone for the presence of weeds, with great appreciation for all the time, pain, and growth it took to be the way it is." (The Five Things We Cannot Change, pg.56)

Gratitude

2011-08-12T05:20:00.002-07:00

Things I'm thankful for today.

Summer at last.
All the rain we've had this year.
An end to the drought.
Green everywhere and every shade of green.
Patients who share their stories with me.
Lovely new co-workers.
Muscle relaxants and eleven hours sleep last night.
I feel human again today and I can move my neck.
Friends.
The changes made in Katie's medications have reduced her anxiety and helped her sleep better. She's not so tired and not so anxious. Less hair pulling, pinching and scratching.
People who care for my daughter, not just take care of her but actually care about her.
I asked for help last night from my not soon enough ex and he agreed to fill out the forms for Katie diapers.
I'm starting to ask for what I need.

What are you thankful for today?

A Middle Path

2011-08-08T16:28:00.001-07:00

How do you beg forgiveness when you have hurt someone? Do you get down on your knees and bow your head before them? Do you soak their skin with your tears? Do you look into their eyes and promise that you will not intentionally hurt them again?

Because I will hurt people again. I am human. How do I reconcile this desire to be kind with my own reckless mind that hurts others as it swings back and forth like a pendulum?

The answer lies somewhere in the middle, a place I seldom visit, preferring of course the wild swings of up and down, good and bad, kind and cruel. It's time I stopped, time to seek the middle path. A place of balance and equanimity. I can only promise to try. I will fail of course and then I will try again.

I am beyond sorry for the pain I have caused others.

Gratitude

2011-08-05T17:56:00.000-07:00

Things I'm grateful for tonight.

A new job that I like and that I'm good at.
Bad jokes.
Joking with my patients, even the heckler.
Homemade pumpkin loaf.
Sunshine.
Standing firm for myself, even though it hurts.
Knowing I'll survive.
Believing I'll survive.
An excellent book which reminds to keep trying to be my best, "The Five Things You Cannot Change..." by David Richo.

"The challenge is to meet our losses with loving-kindness, the commitment to act and think lovingly toward others, especially when they test our patience or act hurtfully toward us. Cultivating loving-kindness when people treat us unfairly or hurtfully helps us by keeping our hearts open in and through the moment of being hurt. Openness does not mean we let ourselves be victims of abuse. We simply allow ourselves to be what we are at our most loving, that is, vulnerable. Any human interaction or relationship can have painful moments in it. A mature adult notices that closing off is dangerous to her sensitivity and that remaining too open is dangerous to her boundaries. The middle path means a willingness to be open while also maintaining healthy boundaries. We can commit ourselves to that form of yes by a practice: We seek amends when others treat us unfairly, ask for redress, and if this doesn't work, we let go, and our hearts do not close. Letting go has the effect of opening the heart." (pg. 34-35)

Being okay with being a work in progress.
That I'm starting to understand that feelings pass. Sadness, happiness, joy, fear, anger, all feelings pass. That even the feeling of having a hole in my chest will pass.
The idea that I can be both vulnerable and have boundaries, that there is a middle ground for me.

What are you thankful for today?

Sigh

2011-08-03T17:15:00.000-07:00

I started my new job today and at the end of the day I started crying, at my new job. With co-workers that don't know me. Nice. I did manage to pull myself together and saved the rest of my crying for the drive home.

When I got home I lost it completely and couldn't stop crying. My lovely depression started up, talking to me, urging me to fucking kill myself already. The horrible part about depression is that impairs you're thinking. It takes a terrible idea and makes it seem like a good, rational idea.

So I phoned a friend, the same friend whose cousin killed herself last winter. The same friend who struggles with her own depression. She was kind and tough, she's like that. She told me I couldn't kill myself and then I yelled at her that she needs to quit smoking because I wasn't about to drive her to her chemo appointments. I started to feel a little better.

We talked for a long time, I even laughed, so did she. She's been through it all this past year as well. She reminded me that I'm not crazy, it's just that my depression is.

And all of this drama, all of this heartache over a man who lied to me the first time I met him. Who continued to lie to me until recently. Who lies to himself and his family.

I sent him away even though I didn't want to. His life is truly a mess. His life makes my life, with my ex-con son and the runaway daughter and the handicapped kid and the not soon enough ex, look pretty sane. He needs to stop trying to be what his mother wants him to be, what his wife and church want him to be, what white people want him to be, what the world wants him to be and just be himself. The self that he was born to be. The self hidden under all the shit that life has piled on top of him, that he continues to pile on top of himself.

I thought I knew him but maybe it was just my own self that I saw. His fears are my fears, that he's not good enough, that he is unlovable, that he is broken and unworthy, that he is a fraud. I saw his darkness and he saw mine, neither of us looked away.

I miss him and it will get better.

Black Dog

2011-08-02T16:17:00.000-07:00

Talked to a friend last night about depression. I said, "It feels like you're dead, except you're not." She agreed.

Not doing well. It will pass.

*I truly hate depression. It kicks me when I'm down, whispers horrible things in my ear while I cry, wants me dead. It's been this way since I was eight years old. I'm wiser now, I know that it will pass, that I just have to hang on but the hardest part for me is to reach out to someone as I fall.

Prayer Time

2011-07-31T05:44:00.000-07:00

I'm rereading "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert right now. I had forgotten how much I had enjoyed the book the first time. She wrote

"My prayers are becoming more deliberate and specific. It has occurred to me that it's not much use to send prayers out to the universe that are lazy...I remember kneeling down one morning, touching my forehead to the floor and muttering to my creator, "Oh, I dunno what I need...but you must have some ideas...so just do something about it, would you?"

Similar to the way I have oftentimes spoken to my hairdresser.

And I'm sorry, but that's a little lame. You can imagine God regarding that prayer with an arched eyebrow, and sending back this message: "Call me again when you decide to get serious about this."

Of course God already knows what I need. The question is-do I know?"

I have been trying to get a job at the cancer hospital for awhile. In January I started taking the oncology course and I have been plugging away it, through Le divorce, through painting, through selling and buying, through life I guess. I apply and apply for jobs and hear nothing, not even a thank you for applying. Nothing!

So I decided to pray and be very specific about what I wanted. I wanted a job offer from the Cross by the end of summer. A day later at work, my boss tells me, "I've been wanting to talk to you. The DI manager from the Cross is looking for a casual nurse and asked me if I knew of anybody. I gave her your name." So the manager emailed me and I emailed her back and I had an interview over the phone that lasted a good five minutes. I start work at the Cross next Wednesday, working in DI, doing the same job I'm doing now, which I'm good at and happen to love.

Seriously.

Which makes me both giddy and nervous. The power of prayer, wow.

I wonder if I dare pray for a partner. A man who will love me just as I am, who will share his life with me, someone smart and funny and sexy, a kind, compassionate man who is also searching for his soul. Perhaps it's time.

I Feel Like A Woman

2011-07-25T18:07:00.000-07:00

So it turns out I was seeing a still very much married man. When I met him he told me he was separated and his wife lived nearby. By nearby he meant in the same house but I didn't know that at first. When I found out that he was still living with his wife and not separated as he had told me I already cared about him very much. I still care about him actually. If he showed up at my doorstep with a suitcase I would take him in, even knowing that he lied to me.

But that's not going to happen. I've been depressed and crying off and on for almost a week, dragging my ass around, feeling dead and empty inside. Fuck I hate depression.

Today when I was going to get the mail I started thinking about how I felt when I was around this man. I felt attractive, sexy and calm but most importantly, I felt like a woman. Which probably sounds weird but in Jungian terms I have a soul which doesn't want to commit to being a woman. My words, not my analyst's. I've never really felt like a woman, even though I look one.

So I was thinking about how I felt around him and then I remembered that how I feel comes from within me. Although I only expressed these feelings around him, they came from me, not him. I allowed myself to feel attractive and sexy and womanly. I even felt calm. He didn't give those to me. I gave them to me but I forgot.

This man did give me something after all, he allowed me to feel like a woman and I thank him for that.

Gratitude

2011-07-24T15:25:00.000-07:00

Things I'm thankful for today.

Talking with a girlfriend.
Laying in the sunshine.
Swimming in the heated, outdoor pool at my daughter's place. Very nice.
A new swimsuit.
Being true to myself.
Lazy Daisy coconut cake.
First coat of paint on the bathroom walls.
Got a little school work done.
Don't feel quite so empty and dead today as I have these past few days.
The knowledge that grief passes.
That I'm practicing meditation.

What are you thankful for today?

Singing My Soul Back

2011-07-20T16:46:00.000-07:00

I went down to the river today, to lick my wounds, to let the river and the trees work their magic on my soul. There were signs that I needed to heed.

More signs and reminders. Sometimes the doing the right thing hurts so much.

I sat here for a long time, watching the water flow past, briefly considered throwing myself into the water which seemed far to melodramatic. Time heals all wounds.

The trail stretched on for miles and I was willing to follow, marveling at the beauty all around me.

Two hours later I returned to the world, not healed but better. Able to see a little beauty around me.

The river valley trails sing to my soul.

The Lies I Tell Myself

2011-07-20T04:35:00.000-07:00

"Our work is not to change what you do, but to witness what you do with enough awareness, enough curiosity, enough tenderness that the lies and old decisions upon which the compulsion is based become apparent and fall away." Geneen Roth (from her book Women, Food and God)

I found this quote on a blog, The Painted Path. It made me think about the lies I tell myself, that we all tell ourselves.

When I was a child I remember being asked a question and running it through my head and trying to figure out the best answer, not the true answer, but the answer that would keep me out of trouble, that would make me acceptable, that would allow me to be loved. Even as a young woman I did this, I told lies out of fear, as do we all I suppose.

And then I told a whopper which at the time did not seem so big but which has continued to grow over the years and I now live with this lie, forever. It's not something I can take back, it stays with me, will stay will me to my grave. I know why I told this lie, I was young and scared but what I didn't know then was what the consequences would be.

When I was with my son's father I told myself many lies. He was an abusive alcoholic and I told myself that my life was so awful because of him. I blamed everything on him, refusing to take any responsibility for the state of my own life. And then one winter day, at the ripe old age of twenty-two I realized that my life was up to me and I left. It wasn't easy. I lived in fear of him abducting my son until my girlfriend pointed out to me that he was far to lazy to care for a baby. He did stalk me though for the whole time I remained in Red Deer.

So I met and married my husband and the lies continued. When he disappeared before we were married I told myself that it was okay. When he got drunk and vomited all over himself, I told myself that this happens. And then my girls were born, only eighteen months apart and I had two babies and a son and I realized I was staying because I couldn't take care of all of my children by myself.

When Katie was diagnosed as mentally retarded I fell into a depression so deep and so dark that I thought I would never emerge. My baby girl died at the age of fourteen months, not the real Katie, it was my dream child that died.

Sadly I don't remember much of my children growing up, I was tired and depressed for much of it. But I was there. I made beds, I shopped for groceries, I drove them to swimming lessons and I made supper every night. I told myself that I was a good mom, even knowing that I wasn't really present because of the pain I felt inside.

Twice I fell in love with other men while I was married and I told myself that I had found my soul mate, my other half, that now I would be happy forever, all the while thinking in the back of my mind that this could never happen because something based on lies will only rot and whither. And it did. The last time this happened I once again fell into a depression that this time almost took my life.

I'm not sorry though, although I regret the lies and the pain I caused, I'm not sorry because it was the impetus for me to finally deal with my depression.

Still I lie to myself, always to avoid feeling something such as pain, or loneliness or fear. I'm not alone I know that now. We all lie to ourselves in big and little ways to avoid those feelings that threaten to overwhelm, that we don't trust we are strong enough to survive.

I no longer beat myself up when I lie but now I stand back and ask, "What is going on here?". "What am I afraid of?" The answers are the same as when I was a child, I'm scared, I'm lonely, I want to be loved. I'm strong enough to hear my answers now and I know that I am not alone. I am connected to a world of human beings that are afraid of being alone, of being unloved, if only we could open our eyes and our hearts to one another.

A Moment

2011-07-16T11:56:00.000-07:00

My whole life I've been waiting and searching for a feeling of peace, of serenity, of equanimity. I thought this feeling would come to me, eventually. I wondered if I would find this feeling someplace or with someone, perhaps I could find it in my children or with a man, maybe in the house I lived in or at my job. I never gave up hope, nor did I find it except in brief moments that passed far too quickly.

I came across this passage yesterday,

" 'Both...and' reflects the teachings of the Buddhist tantric tradition, in which the conditions of existence are embraced as the useful raw material of spiritual practice. Our personal problems and inter-personal conflicts become the path to compassion and wisdom. We neither deny nor avoid the feelings that life's conditions arouse. The givens and our responses are essential ingredients for enlightenment. This makes the world itself an epiphany of light." ( The Five Things We Cannot Change..., pg. 8)

I stopped and realized that life truly is a journey. I'm not supposed to get anywhere, I'm already where I need to be. I already have all that I need to find the peace and equanimity that I strive for. My life is what I need. I don't need to find the perfect yoga class or travel to India or do anything else. Nor is what I'm seeking a destination but rather a way of traveling.

I'm letting go of tomorrow and yesterday, both of which are hard for me. I'm still angry with my not soon enough ex husband and I wonder what my future will look like. But incrementally I am cutting back on the wishing and hoping and believing that I have any control over my past or my future. When I start to think about five years down the road, or even two months down the road, I tell myself to let go, that all I have is today, right now, this moment. And this moment is okay. Sometimes the moments are beyond hard and hurt so bad and sometimes the moments are filled with light and joy. But truly, this moment is all I have.

Wanting my tomorrow to be a certain way, is about me trying to control everything in my life instead of understanding that my life is exactly as it should be for me to learn what it is I need to learn. I'm letting go of the control I never even had and smiling as I write this.

Miss Katie

2011-07-16T06:35:00.000-07:00

Katie's agency is short staffed this summer, people are on holidays. So they asked me to help out this weekend which didn't really appeal to me but I'm her mom. They needed somebody to take care of Katie last night from 3-9 and I work until 4:45 so my son stepped up and helped me out.

He brought Katie over at 5:30 last night just after I got home from work. As Katie opened one cupboard after another, dragging food out, I rushed to cook some noodles and heat up the spaghetti sauce. I found her sippy cup, got the noodles drained and then Katie put her hand on the burner that I had just cooked the noodles on. Fortunately she's fast and whipped her hand off there pretty fast and I got her hand under the cold water. She ended up with a small burn on one of her fingers.

I'm out of practice. She hasn't lived with me in a year and a half. My vigilance has slipped and I'm living in a new place. This apartment is not Katie proof like my house was. We survived supper though. She had a nice bath and then I cut her bangs, leaving the clothes and hair lying on the floor where they fell.

There was a promise made of ice cream so we headed out to WalMart, not really sure why except I was heading that way. Miss Katie had her ice cream. I got my pineapple and then she told me she wanted to go to bed so I headed back to her place. All the while she was talking about the zoo and the elephant she had seen there which, if I understood Katie correctly, kicked a ball.

We went back to her place, her roommate was out. I got Katie into her pyjamas and got her bed. She got up once because she had pooped in her diaper so I cleaned her up and she went back to bed. By this time her roommate was home so the roommate gave Katie a goodnight kiss and both young ladies went to bed.

It's nice to see Katie have a relationship. Her roommate has behavioral problems as well, she abuses herself. They seem to get along and even like each other. Apparently A. always gives Katie a goodnight kiss. I'm glad she does, it's nice to know that somebody is giving Katie a goodnight kiss every night.

I still find it strange that Katie has a life separate from me. For so long she was my life, I knew everything that happened in her life and now I don't. It's a bittersweet feeling. I'm glad she has a life and I miss her.

I came home and cleaned my apartment, I was going to leave it until the morning but I can't. I hate waking up to a mess. It didn't take long. And the best part about last night, Katie and I had a lovely time. It was good.

2011-07-14T15:57:00.000-07:00

I'm reading another book. It never ends this reading. This book is called "The Five Things We Cannot Change..." by David Richo. So far a good read although I can't be sure because I'm so tired I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open.

I had a hard time falling asleep last night and 5:30 came way too early. I was going to go to bed early tonight, couldn't wait to get home and pull on my pyjamas, have a bite to eat and go to bed. But it's the last day of work for a good friend of mine and we're taking her out for drinks.

I'm going to miss this woman. She's a free spirit and she sees auras. She told me my aura is blue, so I googled it. A blue aura means the following:

Loving, caring, helpful, patient, nurturing, supportive, “motherly,” intuitive people

Excellent givers but not very good receivers. They give love liberally but when it is reciprocated they have a hard time really taking it in (unless centered in themselves)

The most emotional of all the core colors; they can be brought to tears for no apparent reason

Spirituality and relationships are their two biggest priorities

People often turn to Blues for consolation, advice, or just to be loved

They tend to attract people who need rescuing, especially in their intimate relationships

Tend to hold on to guilt and resentment when feeling unloved and unacknowledged

Often have a hard time saying no

Can have difficulty letting go of relationships

Tend to have cold hands and feet

Easily put on weight because they often use food as a substitute for emotional fulfillment

Easily pick up on people’s emotions and feelings; they’re surprised that other people can’t

They want deeply to be loved but subconsciously doubt they are lovable (unless centered)

They need to form a deep emotional bond with their partner before sex is satisfying

When centered, they are giving, nurturing, and devoted parents

When uncentered, they are overprotective and try to make their kids dependent on them

They are prone to using guilt and manipulation to get what they want rather than asking for it

As children they try hard to please their parents so that they will be loved

They often choose low-paying service-oriented jobs because they feel that people and love are more important than money. Consequently, they can struggle financially

The Life Purpose of someone with the core color of Blue is to show us how to love one another by being the nurturer, giver, comforter, caretaker, counselor, inspirer, uplifter, and/or cheer leader.

The Basic Fear of someone with the core color of Blue is to not receive the same love, appreciation, and approval they give.

I think she's right about me. One more reason to miss her.

*I watched my friend last night as we sat and had supper and all said goodbye to her. She's embracing change, letting go of her old life, moving to Victoria to be near the water. I admire her. As I was standing in the shower this morning I realized it's time for me to let go of a lot of things I've been hanging onto, including my job. It's time.

Love

2011-07-09T06:41:00.000-07:00

"Love is the power within us that affirms and values another human being as he or she is. Human love affirms that person who is actually there, rather than the ideal we would like him or her to be or the projections that flows from our minds. Love is the inner god who opens our blind eyes to the beauty, value, and quality of the other person. Love causes us to value that person as a total, individual self, and this means that we accept the negative side as well as the positive, the imperfections as well as the admirable qualities. When one truly loves the human being rather than the projection, one loves the shadow just as one loves the rest. One accepts the other person's totality.

Human love causes a man to see the intrinsic value in a woman; therefore love leads him to honor and serve her, rather than to try to use her for his ego's purposes. When love is guiding him, he is concerned with her needs and her well-being, not fixated on his own wants and whims.

Love alters our sense of importance. Through love we see that the other individual has as great a value in the cosmos as our own; it becomes just as important to us that he or she should be whole, should live fully, should find the joy of life, as that our needs be met."

From "We" by Robert A. Johnson, pg.191

Baby Steps

2011-07-08T09:46:00.001-07:00

My mother is eighty-six years old. She was raised by a woman who was born in 1900, my grandmother. Much has changed in the past 111 years and somethings have not changed at all. My own mother and my grandmother were not considered "persons under the law" until 1929. My grandmother lived through two world wars and my mother was born between the wars. Both were born into a culture and a society that discriminated heavily against women. Women had a place, it was in the home. They did not have a voice and they had few rights. They learned early on that their own needs were not considered important.

I was raised by this woman, my mother. She taught me to not ask for things, to put myself last, to not make a fuss. She also taught me to be passive/aggressive because want and need and anger don't go away just because they go underground.

My mother expects others to meet her needs, to understand what her needs are, without her ever asking. It's a guessing game which involves a lot of energy and of course those in her life often guess wrong.

Of course you have to believe that you are allowed to have needs, that these needs are valid and you have to be strong enough to accept the answer "no". No I can't meet your needs.

When I was a young woman, newly married to my husband I was often upset. He had said that he loved me, he had married me and yet he still did not know what my needs were. Of course I didn't know what his were either. We were often angry with each other. We grew older and grew to know one another. We still didn't ask each other for what we needed, neither of us strong enough to receive a "no". We limped along, propping each other up just enough to not fall down. Katie kept us together for neither one of us felt we could abandon the other. Katie's needs are far more than a single person can provide. That much we did know.

But Katie grew up, she moved out and left us looking at each other, two strangers with no means of communicating with each other and little desire to do so. I still don't understand my husband and I'm sure he would say the same about me. Neither of us were taught how to ask for what we needed. I learned to but he still wanted me to guess. I got tired of guessing, of guessing wrong. I left, got scared, went back and realized nothing had changed. I left again, burning my bridges behind me.

Which brings me to today. I just told a lovely man what it is that I need, knowing that he can't give it to me. Also knowing that I am strong enough now to hear "no". I am beyond sad that he can't give me what I need now but I am thankful I can now ask for what it is I need and know that I will survive his "no".

Baby steps people, baby steps.

Gratitude

2011-07-06T20:31:00.001-07:00

Things I'm thankful for today.

Got some serious studying done today.
And my ironing.
Bought balloons and bubble mix for Katie's birthday on Saturday.
Two long walks today, one inside on the treadmill and one outside by the river.
Girlfriends to walk with.
I broke the rules on Monday.
I got to meet a very gracious, interesting man on Monday.
Reading a good book, "Good in Bed".
Leftovers for supper.
My Mum had a lovely day at the Devonian Botanical Garden.
A lovely, complicated, intelligent man.
Sunshine for two days.
My bed.

What are you thankful for today?

Grief and Dying

2011-07-04T18:05:00.000-07:00

Almost two years ago a very good friend of mine, Cathy, was diagnosed with cancer. She hadn't been feeling well for a few months, not sick, just crappy with a strange pain in her abdomen. Turns out she had cancer. Except they couldn't find the primary tumor, all they could find were metastases. She died almost exactly three months later.

Cathy was my friend. She listened to me, gave me good advice and encouraged me to be the best nurse I could be. She was that kind of nurse herself. She combined kindness and compassion with awesome technical skills. She was my mentor and I loved her.

Cathy didn't tell me herself she had cancer. A coworker took me aside and told me, perhaps knowing what my response would be. My reaction was violent and uncontrollable, I howled as I stood in the hallway, unwilling to believe the truth. And that's when I realized why Cathy didn't tell me herself about her diagnosis. It was hard enough for her to hear it herself, to know that she was dying, because I'm pretty sure she knew right away, but to have to bear everyone else's grief would have been too much.

The next time I saw Cathy I put my arms around her and told her that I loved her. I didn't used to go around telling people that I loved them but I wanted her to know what she meant to me. She never worked again. I started visiting her at home, taking her and her husband meals. When she ended up in the hospital I visited her only twice, not because I didn't want to see her but because it was too much for her.

The last time I visited the hospital I brought her gifts and a letter telling her how much she meant to me. I'm sad I couldn't have given them to her in person but I am thankful I had the chance to let her know.

Dying is something we all have to do. Some people get to live to be old and some die even before they are born. Some people spend a lifetime trying to kill themselves while others want only to live. Some people find fame and fortune and most of us live quiet, ordinary lives. I don't know what it's like to die but I have cared for very many people as they lay dying and I've learned a few things.

Dying is personal and unique, even though we all do it, we all do it in our own way.

Dying is not painful, all of my patients have slipped into a coma prior to dying.

Dying people have things to do, whether they want to do these things or not is debatable but dying is a process that requires thought and energy.

Grief is a part of dying. The grief of the one who is dying and the even stronger grief of those left behind.

Part of what makes death so awful is it reminds us of our own mortality, that one day our chest will cease to rise, that our souls will fly free, that our friends and family will mourn us.

Cathy's death taught me that the one who is dying must deal not only with their own grief but also the grief their loved ones face, reflected back to them. The brevity of her illness also taught me to tell people that I love them now, not in future, not one day, but now.

Cathy gave me one more gift. She pushed me to live, even when I'm scared, even when I think I've made the biggest mistake of my life, her death made me understand how short and sacred life is.

Love

2011-07-03T06:42:00.000-07:00

I went to see a friend last night. She's had the year from hell and is only just starting to climb back out into the light. I love her this woman, she always says what's on her mind, there is no guessing about where you stand with her.

My friend smokes, has tried to quit and failed. She tells me she talks to god when she smokes. When things are bad she goes outside, sits on her deck, smokes and thinks and then talks with god. We talked about the man I'm seeing. I told her, "You know how you feel when you need a cigarette? That's how I feel about him. I crave him." She looked at me and said, "Yeah, yeah." She got it, she knows that feeling.

We walked and talked for a long time. Discussing kids and men and husbands and dreams that have died and dreams that have yet to take flight. She told me she wants to see the Redwood Forest in California and travel to Italy. I told her I want to learn how to draw and paint and take photos around the world. She thinks it's funny that I like sex and I find it amazing that she couldn't care less about sex.

Near the end of our walk we sat on a bench and talked some more. She turned to me and said, "How you feel about that man, I've never had that." I looked at her and wanted to cry. Even though it turns me inside out, these feelings, to not have them would be worse.

She said she's never let anyone have her heart. I think her father broke her heart when she was just a little girl and she has protected it ever since. I told her that.

And me? I believe in love. I think it's what makes the world go round. But what I want now is a grown up kind of love, the kind that Rilke describes.

"Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue, a wonderful living side by side can grow, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole against the sky." Rainer Maria Rilke

Three Women

2011-07-01T14:42:00.000-07:00

I dreamed last night about three women. The first woman was the not quite ex wife of a friend. She had secrets this woman, she told lies and had a secret life. The second woman was my own mother but young and perfect, unblemished. The third woman was a stranger but I know her type. A high maintenance woman with bleached hair, tight pants and impossibly high heels.

The number three symbolizes the finite life of the physical world and practical, daily existence. Whether this is true or not is open for debate but it is what I read only this past week and seems to have taken up residence inside my head for now.

According to Jung, all the people in your dreams are aspects of yourself. All three women are parts of me. The woman with the secrets, the young, perfect mother, the high maintenance woman, all me, which makes me go hmmmm as I write this.

The other part of the dream was about understanding. The first woman with the secret life, she had her reasons for doing what she was doing, to do with duty and allegiance. The second and third women were receiving CT scans of their brains.

The third woman cursed and swore as she got off the scanning table, threatening to write a letter to Mazankowski. I had to laugh to myself because Mazankowski is not the minister of health here and the woman was making an ass of herself, displaying her ignorance to the world.

When I sat down with a coworker she explained that the third woman had a brain tumor and I was chastened. When I woke up this morning I thought about the dream. Wouldn't it be so much easier if we could see into one another's brains and understand why we each do what we do?

And back to the three aspects of myself. A woman with a secret life, a perfect mother, a high maintenance woman, all unfinished, all misunderstood by me. And what of the perfect mother?

Miss Katie

2011-06-30T21:22:00.000-07:00

I've recently rekindled a old friendship. When I bought my condo, I discovered that my girlfriend and her husband live in the building next to me, a couple I had lost touch with five years ago. This couple has a daughter, Lisa, with Down syndrome and she's gone to school with Katie for years.

My girlfriend invited me to join her and her friends for walks in the river valley twice a week and I'm walking with them now. Lisa has gone to school with Katie for a long time, not even sure how long. Anyway, that's how I met my friend, through our daughters and the summer program they both attended.

Because we both have disabled children, we understand how hard it is. We both know about meals with food being thrown around, about daughters that still have temper tantrums, about how hard it is to not worry every day about your kid. Lisa just graduated from school this past week and tonight my friend was talking about the day program Lisa will start attending next week. Next year Katie graduates from school and will have to fill her days with something besides school.

As I listened to my friend describe the day program, which sounded like a very good program, I had an image of Katie pop into my head. An image of Katie getting older and older, sitting on a couch, doing the same thing day after day, without end. Like those mirrored elevators you get into and all you see is yourself repeated endlessly.

I wonder what Katie thinks about, what she understands, what she hopes for, dreams of. I wonder how she feels about day after day of the same thing. Is it a good thing for her? Predictable? I suppose predictable would not be a bad thing if you're mentally handicapped. I don't mind predictable so much either, although I do like variety as well. Does Katie long for variety? For something different?

Mostly I guess I worry that I don't do enough for her. Like all my kids, I just want her to be happy.

Shaking My Head

2011-06-29T06:24:00.000-07:00

Received an email from my lawyer yesterday regarding the divorce settlement. Shit continues. I don't like doing this. It wears me down. Instead of sending off any nasty emails though, I breathed, calmed down and went for a long walk with a friend.

One of my good friends from work had a biopsy yesterday morning. She has a lump in her neck. The biopsy went well, so there's that. Fingers crossed it's benign.

I am now in the midst of a complicated relationship and I'm not sure how I feel about that. Confused, I suppose, worried. I do like to worry. Mostly I am trying to live one day at a time, with some limited success. Baby steps people.

Nothing much going on really, just normal life. It's been so long since life has been normal that it feels strange. The last three years, five years, nineteen years, have been difficult.

Katie's grown now and doesn't live with me anymore, so there is that. She/we survived her childhood.

I survived my depression and lived to tell the tale. I enjoy life for the most part now. There are still days that threaten to pull me under again but I know they will pass.

And Le Divorce, this too shall pass, one way or another. Amicably or acrimoniously, it will happen.

And through it all, I'm learning to listen to my soul. It's not an easy thing, this soul work, but worth it in the end I'm thinking.

2011-06-28T20:05:00.000-07:00

“You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.”

C.S. Lewis

Gratitude

2011-06-23T11:21:00.001-07:00

Things I'm thankful for tonight.

The sound of a robin singing outside my window.
A clean house/apartment, even the floors and bathtub.
Homemade pizza for supper.
Lunch out with a man who makes me tingle.
Started some tough IVs today.
Nobody was hurt in the apartment fire across from my hospital.
Girlfriends who support me.
A wedding to go to tomorrow, a dear friend of mine from work is getting married.
Plans to get away this summer.
My mother is going to see my brother and his family this summer.
Talked/listened to my daughter this evening.
A wonderful book to read, "We" by Robert A. Johnson. An excerpt

"Like Iseult, if a woman is ignored or hurt by a man, she will often find a way to turn his own sword against him, to wound him through his power drive. But in the instant that a man wakes up to his own need, offers his love and affirmatively relates to her, woman has an almost magical power to forgive. The feminine makes use of the sword of her antagonist; when he buries his sword and offers relatedness, she buries her sword in the same instant. Aggression is transformed into relatedness. The feminine, whether in a woman or a man, will usually drop her grudges, and forget the wounds of the past if she is offered genuine relatedness and affection in the present. This is one of the most noble and beautiful instincts in woman, one of the ways that she serves and transforms life. Relatedness is her first principle, the dominant theme of her nature, that for which, more than all else, she lives." (pg.78)

My bed, to which I'm heading directly.

What are you thankful for today?

Just Breathe

2011-06-22T16:44:00.000-07:00

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My Daily OM came today. It was all about projections.

"We all have issues, as well as undesirable qualities or traits that we don’t like about ourselves. Most of us realize that we are not perfect and that it is natural to have unpleasant thoughts, motivations, desires, or feelings. However, when a person does not acknowledge these, they may ascribe those characteristics to someone else, deeming other people instead as angry, jealous, or insecure. In psychological terms, such blaming and fault finding is called projection."

And this morning I went to a blog called The Golden Fish, written by a man by the name of Steven. His poem for today is also about projections. Hmmmm.

Twice in one day. I'm thinking this is no coincidence.

This afternoon I had to go over to MRI to start a difficult IV, an old drug addict. When I say old, he was my age, which is old for drug addicts. He quit using fifteen years ago but not before scarring his veins up pretty good. Fortunately he was right handed and had a difficult time using the veins in his right arm. We talked and joked. I don't have a problem with addicts or addictions at work, it's in my private life that I start to judge. At work I can feel compassion.

Anyway, I had to chart the IV start and went back to the scanning techs to get the paper work. I joked around with the techs and somehow the subject of anger came up. More than one mentioned they've never seen me angry and wondered if I did ever get angry. Which is such a contrast to how I was viewed at home by my family. My husband saw me as a very angry woman and to be truthful, I was when I was younger. But he still expected me to be the angry woman and I didn't want to be that woman anymore. When I started to realize that anger was okay, even appropriate at times, my anger started to recede.

My point, and I do have one, is that I wonder how much of my anger was my husband's. I know he spent a good part of the last year lashing out at me, trying to provoke me and I for the most part, let it go. He was spinning in place with nobody to carry his anger for him and it almost broke him.

And the tough part. What nasty bits of myself do I refuse to look at? Do I prefer to shift onto the shoulders of another?

My greed. My self centeredness. My vanity. My endless capacity for denial. My complicated relationship with authority figures and rules. My need to rebel for the sake of rebelling.

As always, naming things, writing them down, helps me. I can stand back and see what I'm doing, recognize it for what it is and then have compassion for myself. Deep breathe.

2011-06-20T06:20:00.000-07:00

"If I could only remember that the days were, not bricks to be laid row on row, to be built into a solid house, where one might dwell in safety and peace, but only food for the fires of the heart." ~Edmund Wilson

Nothing Left

2011-06-18T14:34:00.000-07:00

"A person wishes to be confirmed in his being by another person...Secretly and bashfully, he watches for a Yes which allows him to be and which can come to him only from one human person to another. It is from one human being to another that the heavenly bread of self-being is passed." Martin Buber

I had a bad week, broken heart, blah, blah, blah. By the time Friday rolled around I was sleep deprived, hadn't eaten a proper meal in awhile and I was done. I had nothing left to give. So I went to work. As a nurse.

I had a patient, a woman not a much older than myself, and she was terrified of having a CT scan. She wanted medication, not just to calm her but enough medication to obliterate the experience. I talked to the doctor, got an order and she refused the medication. It wasn't enough, she wanted more. Spoke to the doctor again, more medication was promised once she was on the table.

Through all of this I moved like a sleep walker, trying to not feel anything. I barely spoke to the woman. We did manage to get her on the table and gave her a lot of medication but to no avail. The tech remembered this patient from a previous scan. She had been yelling and waving her arms about, saying "Have you ever been in a burning building?" He told me this and then swore. He wasn't interested in her fear and to be honest, neither was I.

We gave up. The patient got off the table and then returned to the recovery room but she wouldn't stay there. She wanted to leave. Now. I barely glanced at her but it did register in my mind that if it was me I would just want to leave so that I could go someplace private and cry. I just walked out, unable to care about anything.

Last night I went over to a friend's house to make perogies for a wedding next weekend. We sat and talked and I told them the story of this woman and how badly I behaved. One of my coworkers said, "That's not like you Deb." and it's true. It was out of character for me.

I usually take the time to listen to my patients. I'm good at it. I have empathy for my patients, so many of them are terrified that they have cancer. I make a difficult experience a little less difficult for my patients. I care about them.

Except I didn't yesterday. I feel bad that I had nothing to give my lady but I think I have a better understanding of why some people don't care, perhaps they have nothing left to give. We need to fill our cups, I need to fill my own cup. I poured my cup on the ground this past week. I'm thinking there are a lot of people with empty cups, ground down, unable to lift up their heads enough to care about those around them. Time to have compassion for those who have nothing left to give. Time to have compassion for myself.

Nobody Told Me

2011-06-17T20:47:00.000-07:00

I'm rereading "How To Be An Adult In Relationships" by David Richo. A most excellent book. In it the author talks about the five "A's".

"We feel loved when we receive attention, acceptance, appreciation, and affection, and when we are allowed the freedom to live in accord with our deepest needs and wishes."(pg.1)

I met a lovely man a month ago and with him I allowed myself to feel accepted and appreciated. He allowed me to be myself. Sadly he is not available to me. But the good thing that came out of this, is that I allowed myself to feel worthwhile and acceptable. Good things for me because I felt unacceptable and worthless for so long.

I fell apart, a little, a lot. I lay on my bed and cried great huge snotty tears. It hurt, a lot.

Except I still want him. Even though he's unavailable.

Sigh.

My parents didn't prepare me for this. For what a slow process learning and growing up is. They never told me that the things that hurt the most where the things that taught me the most. They never told me that it was okay to feel hurt and sad. They never told me how strong I was.

Gratitude

2011-06-11T05:25:00.000-07:00

I started a gratitude journal on January 1st, 2000. My father was in a hospital bed in Red Deer and my mother was losing it. I drove down to Red Deer twice a week for nine weeks to visit my parents, often taking the kids with me. That January I was also assaulted by a doctor at work. On February 14th my father died. Through it all, I still made my myself write in my gratitude journal every night. I remember some nights all I could write was that I was thankful I didn't yell at the kids.

Since then I have made it a practice to go through my day every night as I lay in bed, listing all the things I'm grateful for that happened during the day. It changed me in subtle ways.

Things I'm thankful for today.

A glass of iced tea.
Sunshine streaming through the window.
Two days off to do as I please.
Time to make spanakopita for my girlfriend's wedding.
Girlfriends in general.
A lovely man who kisses like a naughty angel, holds my hand and tells me how he's feeling and what he's thinking about.
Finished painting my bedroom and have all but one of my pictures up on the walls.
Time for exercise this morning.
A walk with my mother last night and her smile when she saw me.
My son starts back to school in a week and my daughter wants to go back as well.
Trust in the universe that things will work out.

What are you thankful for today?

Thank You

2011-06-09T06:21:00.000-07:00

I took my Mum out grocery shopping on Tuesday afternoon. I was wandering around the store when a woman stopped me. She asked me if my mother lived at the Waterford and I said yes. She told me she used to work there and remembered my mother, a tidy lady is how she described my mother.

Then this woman, this complete stranger, told me what she had been doing for the past few years since she had left the Waterford. She went back to school and is now teaching at Victoria School of the Arts. She loves it she told me, because she's both an artist and a teacher. Then she went on to tell me how wonderful it is to follow your passion, to do what you love.

I looked at her and saw the universe reminding me to do what it is I love.

Funny how that works.

Women Matter

2011-06-08T06:06:00.000-07:00

Miss Katie when she was a baby.

I've dreamed about houses for the last two nights. The first night I dreamed I bought a house, built on dirt, no foundation and the walls were falling down. I tore it down, poured a concrete foundation and then built a house that let the light in. Windows everywhere.

Last night I dreamed of my mother's house. There was a group of history buffs taking a tour and they came to my mother's house. I asked if the guide knew the name of the person who built the house. She told me it was Mother Peyote. She designed the windows of the house to be larger and to let more light in. When I walked through the house, it had expanded upwards with rooms I had never seen before but loved. The house was full of my extended family, some I had never even met. It was messy and wonderful, all at the same time. The cats got outside and the kids wouldn't stay off the roof. We were celebrating my own mother's birthday.

This morning when I woke I googled Mother Peyote and came across a Navajo song by that name. The video reminded me of what women do. We make homes and we make families. It's what we do.

My husband thinks very little of me. He doesn't value the time I spent making a home and raising our children. He doesn't understand that women make the world go round. We hug, we love, we wipe away tears and soothe, we give to our children, even knowing that it will not be returned to us but to our grandchildren instead, we care for the young and the old, we cook healthy meals even when we don't feel like it, drive children to lessons and keep a household running smoothly.

My husband doesn't value what I did, but I do. I was not he best mom but I love my kids like a mama bear. I would die for them and they know it. My husband no longer gets to decide my value. Now I get to decide. I'm taking it back, my worth, my value, my womanhood. I matter. I make a difference.

Women matter. We rock.

Trust Me

2011-06-04T05:13:00.000-07:00

I'm learning to trust myself, something I didn't learn how to do when I was growing up. In fact it seems to me, it was discouraged. "Don't feel like that." "Don't think like that." "Don't act like that." Refrains heard often in my home. Emotions, although openly displayed, were never talked about. It was never hard to figure out when my father was angry, that was the easy part. What was hard was trying to figure out why he was angry. As an adult looking back I now know he was scared and sad and depressed. As a young child I felt responsible for his anger. It must be my fault, because that's what children do.

I grew up to be an angry woman. An angry woman who only very recently realized that she was less angry and more unbearably sad for most of her life. Although the writing of these words makes me sad, I don't regret the past. I did the best I could with what I had learned growing up. I've quit beating myself up, for the most part, for mistakes both past and present. I've learned to be gentle with myself and others. I'm learning to listen to myself.

The last time I saw my best friend was two years ago. She seemed angry with me, had literally bitten her tongue the night before I arrived. She was frustrated that I was going back to my husband and told me so. I still thought it was for the best, even though it didn't work out. Since then, I've hardly heard from her. No phone calls and only a handful of emails. I finally emailed her last week and asked what's up? Did I do something to upset you. She replied no, that we had just grown apart and that I seemed angry all the time.

In the past I would have been floored by this but now I can stand back and ask myself, is this true? My answer, no I don't think so. I was more than willing to keep her in my life, despite the distance. My anger has in fact declined over the years, especially the last five years, so I don't think it's that. I had to smile when I read the part about anger hovering over me because the last time I visited, I was surprised to notice how bitter my friend was. I had never seen that before, never noticed it. I think the truth is I got stronger and healthier. As that happened, she stepped back. I will miss her but mostly I guess I will miss what we had many years ago. I leaned on her heavily and now that I no longer do, she doesn't want me. It hurts but that's okay. It will pass.

Slowly, slowly I learn to trust my own self.

A few weeks ago I met a lovely man. He's good and kind and wonderful. In the past I would have run like hell, feeling myself undeserving, unlovable. My mind would have messed with my royally, telling me all kinds of horrible things, undermining my confidence. I'm learning to trust myself, trust what I feel and what I think, but most of all, trust that I will survive, even if I should get my heart broken.

I must say it feels good to be gentle with myself, to trust myself, to listen to myself. Even though I cry often still, especially when I hit upon a truth, I feel good.

2011-06-01T19:58:00.000-07:00

e.e. cummings - since feeling is first... (VII)

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other; then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

2011-05-30T19:31:00.000-07:00

"Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go."
— Mary Oliver

ABC

2011-05-27T18:58:00.000-07:00

Stolen from Jos, who stole it from KJ apparently.

A is for Age: 48 years old, soon to be 49 which means 50 is just around the corner. I don't feel that old, except when I'm tired and I look old when I'm tired.

B is for Beer of choice: I don't drink beer. I tried once and hated it. I do however like cosmopolitans and white wine occasionally.

C is for Career: A nurse, which is the last thing I wanted to be because my mother thought nursing was a suitable career for a woman. Then I got pregnant and had a baby boy and realized I was going to have to support him, so I went to nursing school. Turns out I like nursing. Who knew?

D is for favourite drink: Iced tea. I'm not overly fond of hot tea, I will drink it but I love iced tea, even in the middle of winter when it's bloody cold.

E is for Essential item(s) you use everyday: Burt's Bees Lip Balm.

F is for Favorite song at the moment: This one by Adele.

H is for How About Whatever Favorite I Choose: Dessert please.

G is for favorite Game: I'm not fond of games. I grew up playing with my brother and playing games with him was not fun.

I is for Instruments played: None, not a one. My daughter however plays the piano beautifully.

J is for favorite Juice: Fruit juice mixes, like apple, orange, peach.

K is for Kids: Three, all grown, thank god. I don't know how we survived each other. I wish I knew then what I know now, I would like a do over with my kids. I don't know if anything would change, but I sure would try. I would be more patient and listen to my husband less. I would tell my kids that I love them just as they are and that they can do anything if they try. I would have gotten more help with Katie and had more fun with my other two.

L is for Last kiss: Daniel. OMG that man can kiss!

M is for Marriage: Today is the anniversary of my marriage. Next week I see my divorce lawyer, hopefully things will get moving.

N is for full Name: Deborah

O is for Overnight hospital stays: With all three kids and once with an infected episiotomy. I'm not a fan of hospitals, it felt like jail each time.

P is for Phobias: Spiders.

Q is for favourite Quote: "What we think, we become" Buddha

R is for biggest Regret: See kids above.

S is for Sports: I don't play any sports. I have lousy hand/eye coordination and hate balls coming towards me. I was a racewalker for a number of years though and raced in provincial races.

T is for Time you wake up: The earliest I have to wake up for work is 5:30 and the latest is 7. I prefer 7.

U is for color Underwear: White, only white and they're cotton. Yawn.

V is for Vegetable you love: I don't love vegetables but I will eat carrots and lettuce willingly.

W is for Worst Habit: Picking at my face. I can't leave pimples alone. Gross, I know.

X is for X-rays you’ve had: I've had quite a few x-rays of my kidneys. I've had lots of kidney stones and problems with my kidneys. I drink lots of water now and haven't had a stone in years, the damage has been done though to one of my kidneys.

Y is for Yummy food you make: Key lime pie, pecan pie, cinnamon buns, red velvet cake, brownies, blondies. Did I mention I have a sweet tooth?

Z is for Zodiac sign: Virgo
Modest and shy
Meticulous and reliable
Practical and diligent
Intelligent and analytical
Sounds like such a fun person.

Note to Self

2011-05-22T05:50:00.000-07:00

I met a very nice man this past week. I like him and this terrifies me. It terrifies me because I can now get hurt, again.

Such evolved thinking, I know.

He's tall, dark and handsome. He's also intelligent, funny, articulate, confident and sexy. He says what he's thinking, he's attentive. I'm not used to this and told him so. I'm trying to remain true to myself in all of this but it's difficult because old habits die hard.

I was laying in bed last night thinking. What is the difference, really, between last Saturday night and this Saturday night. I still have my family, my friends, my work, my photography, school work and long walks. Nothing has really changed, except that I have added this nice man into the mix.

He cannot become my life, as I have done in the past. That did not work for me at all. I need to remember that I have a life, he can be a part of that life, but not the whole thing. I need to remember who I am, or at least who I am so far. I need to remember that whether or not he wishes to join me on my journey, it's still my journey.

I'm afraid I will scare him off with my needs, or conversely, ignore him because I want to remain independent. As with all things of course, balance is required. I can only be my flawed self. If that is not good enough, then so be it.

Note to self. Don't forget yourself.

2011-05-21T21:13:00.000-07:00

It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
e. e. cummings

Making Room

2011-05-17T05:28:00.000-07:00

I vacuumed my house last night, for the last time. I rinsed out the sink, put the toilet seat down, shut off the lights and whipped through there like a mad woman. I was pissed. Angry about selling our house, angry about my marriage not working, just mad as a wet hen. I wanted to scream and shout and throw things.

And then I realized I wasn't so much angry as desperately sad. Anger was just a way to avoid feeling sad. So I started crying. I cried when my neighbor hugged me. I cried as I locked the garage door and I cried as I drove home to my new home.

I'm so thankful I realized I was angry as a way of avoiding feeling sad. That's big for me. I didn't know. I was angry for so much of my life, avoiding feeling sad I'm thinking. My father was the same way, always angry. Angry is big, it fills up so much space. So much space that there isn't room for sad. I need to make room for sad. And for happy as well.

This morning the anger and the sadness are gone. I'm looking forward with hope.

Gratitude

2011-05-14T22:11:00.000-07:00

Things I'm thankful for tonight.

The wind has died down, mostly.
Warm, sunny days.
Friends to help lift and carry.
Girlfriends with dirty minds.
A lovely afternoon with Miss Katie.
All of my furniture has arrived and is built.
The electric screwdriver my children gave me for Christmas, see above.
The walls are painted and the pictures are hung in my new place.
Homemade granola.
The moon tonight.
My bed.

What are you thankful for tonight?

I Survived

2011-05-10T11:20:00.000-07:00

More crocuses because I haven't had time to take any photos.

I survived my move. I have internet connection again, yay. Now I just have to catch up on your blogs. And unpack. And get a new job. And get my tooth fixed that broke last week. And plant some pots with flowers. My to do list is a mile long and that's just fine. I have my own place, a home.

Garden Lover

2011-05-05T07:37:00.000-07:00

Crocuses.

I sat in my garden last night for awhile, trying to say goodbye to the plants that have been with me for so long. The green ash that struggles every year to thrive, despite the leaf rollers that make it so difficult. The purple tree that surprises me every spring with it's green leaves that slowly turn deep purple. The hostas that take so long to emerge, I always wonder if they've died over winter. The peonies that my mum gave me from her garden, and the lady slippers. The fritillaria that I love because because it looks hand painted. The lilacs that bloom in succession for six weeks, leaving my house and garden smelling so wonderful. The cedars that I planted that now reach past the roof. Most of all I'll miss the daisies that bloom and self seed every year, filling my garden with their lovely white faces.

It may seem silly but I will miss my garden. It has become a lot of work these past couple of years because I now work full-time but my garden saved my sanity for many years. It was my escape and my creative outlet. And last night as I listened to the radio I discovered that green spaces raise our levels of endorphins, green spaces help us to cope with the stresses of living in noisy cities. I can attest to that.

I am also afraid of moving into an apartment. I couldn't afford a house and want the freedom an apartment affords but I will miss my garden.

Note to self. Take my sorry ass down to the river more often.

Note to Self

2011-05-03T07:53:00.000-07:00

The crocuses are up in my garden, bidding me a fond farewell.

This arrived in my mailbox this morning from Daily OM.

Many of us seek the answers to life’s questions by looking outside of ourselves and trying to glean advice from the people around us. But as each of us is unique, with our own personal histories, our own sense of right and wrong, and our own way of experiencing the world that defines our realities, looking to others for our answers is only partially helpful. The answers to our personal questions can be most often found by looking within. When you realize that you always have access to the part of you that always knows what you need and is meant to act as your inner compass, you can stop searching outside of yourself. If you can learn to hear, trust, and embrace the wisdom that lives within you, you will be able to confidently navigate your life.

Trusting your inner wisdom may be awkward at first, particularly if you grew up around people who taught you to look to others for answers. We each have exclusive access to our inner knowing. All we have to do is remember how to listen. Remember to be patient as you relearn how to hear, receive, and follow your own guidance. If you are unsure about whether following your inner wisdom will prove reliable, you may want to think of a time when you did trust your own knowing and everything worked out. Recall how the answers came to you, how they felt in your body as you considered them, and what happened when you acted upon this guidance. Now, recall a time when you didn’t trust yourself and the results didn’t work out as you had hoped. Trusting your own guidance can help you avoid going against what you instinctively know is right for you.

When you second guess yourself and go against what you know to be your truth, you can easily go off course because you are no longer following your inner compass. By looking inside yourself for the answers to your life’s questions, you are consulting your best guide. Only you can know the how’s and why’s of your life. The answers that you seek can be found when you start answering your own questions.

Note to self, listen to myself.

2011-05-02T15:42:00.000-07:00

“In a controversy, the instant we feel anger, we have already ceased striving for truth and have begun striving for ourselves” Abraham J. Heschel

I have to remember this because right now, I feel angry. Time to step back.

Gratitude

2011-04-26T17:51:00.000-07:00

"The most basic and powerful way to connect to another person is to listen. Just listen. Perhaps the most important thing we ever give each other is our attention…. A loving silence often has far more power to heal and to connect than the most well-intentioned words. "
— Rachel Naomi Remen

Thank you to Deb at Talk At The Table. for this lovely and inspiring quote.

Things I'm thankful for tonight.

And endless supply of empty boxes from work.
Cleaning out drawers.
And closets.
My middle daughter called tonight and asked for my advice.
I listened to her.
I'm very thankful I can listen now.
I was able to trust my own gut and quit the new job.
I'm thankful my patient on Sunday night didn't break my arm or my nose.
I trust that I will find a job that I love.
Sunshine and warm weather.
Robins singing.
The snow is almost gone, it's just hiding in dark corners now.
Rereading a wonderful book right now "The Sunday List of Dreams" by Kris Radish.
Homemade double chocolate muffins for supper.
My bed.

What are you thankful for today?

Grief and Loss

2011-04-22T06:34:00.000-07:00

Nellie

I think grief is not appreciated in our society. It is something to be avoided, shunned, ignored. I wrote of loss in my last post because even though I chose to leave this marriage, I have lost and I don't think I can let go and move on until I have acknowledged what it is that I have lost.

When Katie was first diagnosed I grieved for years. Not so much for the diagnosis but for the dream child that had died. We all have dream children. Those children that exist in our minds from the time we first learn we are pregnant. We gave our daughter the name Katherine and in my minds eye I saw her sitting at a desk, in a suit with her name on the desk. With a diagnosis of mental retardation, those dreams died, overnight. My other two children have slowly and methodically killed off my dream children of them but it was so gradual I could cope. The death of Katie's dream child was too fast. I felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest.

Which goes back to grief. I grieved, I wrote and slowly I was able to accept what happened but for me, I had to acknowledge what it was that I had lost. Leaving this marriage has not been so different. The dreams have died and I grieve that loss. The dreams of having a travel partner, of having someone to talk to, of taking our grandchildren to the lake for a summer, of teaching our grandchildren to sail, of walking through gardens in Europe, of having someone to share my life with once he stopped flying and stayed home. It's not just my garden I'll miss, although that is something tangible that I can point to, it's the dreams that have died.

Life is filled with loss. It begins when we leave our mother's body and it ends with our last breath. To deny the suffering and loss that makes up so much of our lives is to deny ourselves. I don't enjoy suffering but it is a part of life and to be honest I learn far more from the awful days than I do from the lovely days. That's not to say I don't want the lovely days, we need both to have balance. And most importantly for me, I need to name what it is I have lost so that I can let go and then move forward. As I tell my children, that's how I roll:)

My last post was inspired by this poem.

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop

The Art Of Losing

2011-04-19T18:06:00.000-07:00

My cats are gone, given to a wonderful friend who will care for them and love them. I bought a coffee table today after work and on the weekend bought a couch and chair that will fit into a small space. I take possession of my condo two weeks on Friday.

I was both sad and not sad to see the cats go. I miss them. Maggie, in the photo, always talked to me and loved to sit in my lap whenever I was at the computer. I gave up my dogs two and half years ago when I started working full time, it wasn't fair to them to spend so much time in their kennels. They live on an acreage now with a lovely women.

I've lost my animals and soon my garden will be gone too, along with the trees and the lilacs that surround the house. Katie won't be able to lay on the chair and look out the front room window anymore. The house I raised my children in will be filled with strangers.

I'll lose my wonderful neighbors and friends. We'll keep in touch for awhile and then slowly drift apart (not you Daphne).

But not all of the losses will be so sad. I've also lost that awful feeling of being unacceptable, always. I no longer have to discuss/argue endlessly about every single decision. I can spend and save my money as I please, and I've got way more of it now that I don't live on his allowance. I no longer have to live with drunken rages or walk on eggshells. I no longer have to be a disappointment.

It's bittersweet these losses but I am looking forward to a new chapter. I know I will be disappointed about somethings and surprised by others. I know that nothing is forever. Perhaps one day I'll live in a small house with a big garden and lots of room for dogs. Anything is possible.

Happy Birthday Sweetie

2011-04-15T06:49:00.000-07:00

It's my son's birthday today. He's twenty seven. Neither one of us can believe it.

I'm thankful he's back in my life. Thankful he's clean. Thankful he survived.

In Real Life

2011-04-12T06:46:00.000-07:00

I was reading a lovely woman's blog yesterday and she was wondering if her blog truly reflected who she was, which got me to thinking about my own blog and what I write.

What I'm like in real life, as opposed to what I write.

In real life I laugh a lot, tell dirty jokes and play pranks on people.
In real life I can always be counted on to come up with the filthiest double entendre.
In real life my twenty year old tells me I need to grow up.
So does my mother sometimes.
In real life I look up at the sky many times a day, to watch the clouds, to see the sun, the moon and the stars.
In real life I drive past a naked tree for half of the year and every time I see this tree, it reminds me of Hermes, the god, not the trademark.
In real life I always pet dogs I meet, scratch behind their ears and ask them how they are.
In real life I wrestle on the floor with small children and dogs, sometimes cats, but they're trickier.
In real life I spend time by the river, listening to the trees whisper their secrets to me.
In real life I hug my friends, tell them my secrets and listen as they tell me theirs.
In real life I pull weeds, anywhere I happen to be, and marvel at the beauty of flowers.
In real life I seldom sit, love to walk and bake instead.
In real life I talk a lot, sometimes. And other times, not at all.
In real life I am complicated and interesting.

Tell me, how are you different in real life?

Update

2011-04-10T20:08:00.000-07:00

My husband called and left me a message today, then we talked. A perfect storm apparently. He did fire his divorce lawyer last week because she was odd. He lost his cell phone so couldn't answer it. His email wasn't working and he was staying with a friend for a couple of days so didn't get the voice mail on his landline until this morning.

He's willing to help me out so that I can get my mortgage and yes, he understands that our marriage is indeed over and he's okay with that. Finally.

It was good to talk to him. Even though he's been staying here to fix things up, we haven't talked, just kind of skirted around each other, trying not to piss each other off so that this whole divorce thing can be as civil as possible.

I also have a very difficult time talking to him in person, he crosses over my boundaries in person still.

So two days of worry and tears for nothing. Except to remind me that I still tie my internal happiness to externals that I have no control over. I keep failing and still keep on trying. I guess that's something

A Lather

2011-04-09T07:42:00.000-07:00

I look back over my posts of the past few months and they are dark and depressing for the most part. It's been a difficult year. I thought last year was awful with being locked out of my home, having the police involved in my private matters and dealing with Katie's guardianship application by myself because my husband was locked in a pysch unit in another province. And yet, this year is worse.

It's worse because I have hope and then the hopes are dashed, again and again. I'm trying to buy a condo but apparently, until the house is sold, or has a pending offer on it, I am still tied to my husband financially and need his signature to access funds to buy my place. And he's gone missing, again.

He does that a lot. He's always done it actually. Shortly before we were married he got drunk and disappeared for a day. A red flag which I ignored. When things were difficult, he could always just leave and go to work. And work always came first, not family, not me, always work.

Even when he was home he would disappear, onto the golf green or into the bottom of a wine bottle. I suppose I was never really married in a sense, or at least it feels that way to me.

And now, when I'm trying to move on with my life, still he hangs on by absenting himself once again. Thanks.

On top of that is my own work life. The brain injury unit I am now working on is one of the most abusive places I've ever worked. I've been told I'm psychotic, insane, a bitch, a cunt, I could go on but why bother. I can't stay there and it is only a temporary job thank goodness. So I applied at the CCI to work with cancer patients, which fits in nicely with the course I started in January but which I had to interrupt for a couple of months to get the house ready for the market. I've applied twice in the past couple of weeks and the applications keep getting sent to the University instead of the CCI. WTF!

And I'm still pissed about all the work I have done to make the house look good for selling and my husband did so little. What he did do was half assed, dripped paint on the floor, paint scraped off the newly painted walls, shit left in the basement, still! I'm in a mood although I must say writing it out feels much better than letting it roll around inside my head, cutting short my sleep until I feel like a zombie.

Moving On

2011-04-05T20:00:00.000-07:00

I made an offer on a condo tonight. A small apartment condo, not far from where I live now. The apartment is small enough that it makes you think about each and every thing that you allow through the door. There's almost no storage space and I like that. Everything will be out in the open, not buried in the basement, unseen. I'm paring down, deciding what's really important to me.

Sadly, the cats did not make the cut. The apartment is even too small for a litter box. I haven't told them yet.

I was pre-approved for a mortgage that would keep me busy working to pay it off. I opted for smaller and less because what I really want to do is travel and take photos. A small mortgage will allow me one overseas holiday a year. I don't want to travel by myself, not because I'm nervous, although I am, but because I like talking too much. I want someone to talk to. I hit upon the idea of walking tours. I can travel the world, walk to my heart's content and have traveling companions. I'm not as shy as I once was and can now talk to strangers.

I decided a couple of weeks ago to quit waiting for my life to begin and just begin already. What do I want my life to look like? What do I want to do? What did I want to do before I got pregnant with my son? Travel and take photos. It's time.

What do I want in my life? Kindness, compassion, humor and stimulating conversation, things I can cultivate within myself. It's time.

And flowers, I want lots of flowers in my life. The condo I made an offer on has a lovely balcony, it's a corner unit, which faces east, south and west. Perhaps I was a sunflower in a previous life.

I'm finally ready to move on.

Buried

2011-03-24T06:52:00.000-07:00

I've gone silent. My words have dried up, blown away by the wind, buried in the snow. I'll be back.

Safe Harbour

2011-03-20T11:31:00.001-07:00

I was walking through the mall yesterday with Katie and saw an older couple, or perhaps I just imagined I did, who still looked like they loved and liked each other. I want that still but yesterday with Katie I remembered a quote from Mahatma Ghandi, "Be the change you want to see in the world" and I realized that I need to stop looking outwards, especially towards men, to give me what I long for. I need to cultivate it within me, that way it will last to the end of my days. When I realized this and thought about it, I felt better. The lights went back on inside my brain and I felt peaceful.

I long for an anchor, a steady place from which to live my life, a safe harbor I guess, to continue the metaphor and have always looked at men for that harbor. What a disappointment, not because of them but because only I give that to myself.

This Too Shall Pass

2011-03-17T10:33:00.000-07:00

I've been struggling lately, to keep my head above water, to not get lost in the black depths that threaten to pull me under. Life has once again become too much. I take my pills, I try to think positively, I laugh, I love and still depression finds me.

I took myself down to the river last Saturday, to take photos, to walk, to listen to the trees, to say hello to the dogs. That helped, a little. I'm trying to exercise more but it's hard because I've let it slide these past four or five months.

It snowed again last night. It's not unusual to have snow in March but usually some of the winter snow has retreated by now. This year, not so much.

Added to the snow is my husband who has been here for the past week helping me get the house ready for sale. I don't feel like I can relax with him around, that I can cry. I'm the one divorcing him, I'm not allowed to feel badly about this but I do. I've got grief everywhere around me, bleeding down the walls and spilling onto the floor to pool in puddles around my feet.

It will end. I know this. Nothing is forever, not even grief, not even sadness, not even endings, not even winter.

2011-03-14T17:05:00.000-07:00

I've been sad and crying for most of the weekend. The devastation in Japan has overwhelmed me. Then I came across this quote by the Dalai Lama.

"If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito."

I'm making a donation to the Red Cross, it's not hard and there's not much else I can do. My tears won't help but a donation can.

Are You Listening?

2011-03-12T09:02:00.000-08:00

"As long as we wish for safety, we will have difficulty pursuing what matters."-Peter Block

With my house almost ready to sell, I have been looking for someplace new to live. I've lived in a nice house in the suburbs for the past twenty years. Two nights ago my son left the front door open and unlocked all night, but I don't worry here. I feel safe here.

Last night on the way home from work around 11:30pm I was driving through a neighborhood near my hospital to look at a house for sale. It was a nice little house in an old neighborhood but just off a couple of iffy streets where prostitutes like to hang out my son told me. I have nothing against prostitutes, it's their customers that I find questionable.

I felt uncomfortable. I was driving home and starting thinking about my intense need for security, one I've had all my life. I started thinking about why at which point my nose started to tingle and I started to cry. I've never really felt safe I think, certainly not when I was a child, life was too chaotic and I've spent my adult years trying to reduce the chaos in an attempt to feel safe.

What I did though was build a rigid little life, the writing of which also makes my nose tingle so I know it's true. I'm starting to trust my own body, when my nose tingles like tears are coming, I've hit upon a truth I didn't know.

Added to the house hunting was the fact that because of changes in Alberta Health Services, the job I applied for and got, a part-time job with benefits, doesn't exist right now and apparently I've been slotted into a casual position. Still no benefits, no security. The universe is no longer whispering, she's yelling at me.

To Be

2011-03-08T23:15:00.000-08:00

Dogbane.

It's the start of Lent tomorrow and although I'm not catholic, or even christian anymore, I like the idea of giving something up to make me think about the divine.

I decided to give up rushing which sounds silly but I rush around a lot. I hurry everywhere, always trying to fit one more thing in my day.

So for the next forty days I will try to slow down, to take time everyday to just sit and do nothing useful, to say no, to pay attention more, to breathe more deeply, to be.

Bloody Tired

2011-03-04T18:59:00.000-08:00

I'm tired today.
Tired of snow and winter and shoveling.
Tired of painting and cleaning and fixing.
Tired of divorce and settlements and real estate.
Tired of orientation and not knowing.
Tired of worry and uncertainty, which is a joke because when is anyone ever certain?
Tired of men.
Tired of everything in general.

Time to take my tired ass off to bed.

What are you tired of tonight?

Gratitude

2011-03-01T20:03:00.000-08:00

Things I'm thankful for today.

Central heating because it is friggin cold here.
Heated seats in my van, see above.
A visit with my counselor in which I both laughed and cried.
First day at my new job which went well, a day of orientation.
My daughter is moving out tomorrow and we still love each other.
My son bought himself a new car today, one with a working heater.
Made a batch of granola tonight, makes the whole house smell wonderful.
My bed.

What are you thankful for today?

Connecting

2011-02-27T08:54:00.000-08:00

My girlfriends and I got hotted up last night and went out. Getting hotted up for me means wearing heels. We went to the bar my son works at, he's a bouncer/security. Isn't that ironic?

I haven't been out to a bar in many, many years. Little has changed. The women dance together. The music is too loud for conversation. Most people are drunk. Lots of tits hanging out, more than when I was young. The men are different though, they touch and hug each other, which is nice.

Standing there, watching everyone was interesting. I'm forty-eight, which means I'm pretty much invisible to most young people. What I noticed was that everyone was doing pretty much the same thing, trying to connect with other human beings, however they could. We're all of us so damned lonely inside of ourselves, unaware that we are already connected to everyone and everything.

Driving home my one friend and I talked. She asked how old I feel on the inside. I told her seventeen. I forget that I've gotten older, that I look different and it still surprises me to see myself in the mirror. I'll be fifty in eighteen months and think my god, that sounds old but I don't feel old.

The highlight of the evening was seeing my son at work. My son, like me is introverted and like me is outgoing at work. It was nice to see that side of him, smiling, talking, enjoying his work and his life. He's no longer high and stupid. I can talk to him. He's become a man and I'm so proud of him. Note to self, tell him this.

Coyote

2011-02-25T04:17:00.000-08:00

Katie and I drove down to the horse barns to take a look at the horses a few weeks ago and this coyote/trickster caught my eye.

"The trickster is the ego demolitions expert who helps us become more realistic about our psychological limitations and ultimately our spiritual limitations...The trickster in relationship is that man who fooled you, that woman who betrayed you, that predator/partner who used you, that shyster who took your money, etc. In each instance, someone, something, or some event turned your life upside down or showed you how vulnerable you were, how you were not all you cracked yourself up to be. Fear and desire are the calisthenics of the trickster ego, and the rough tools he uses to show the ego its inadequacy." (The Power of Coincidence, David Riccho, p.59)