Evolution . . .

Everything seems to finally be changing at work – I hope for the better. I really like my job, and I am good at it, but more than anything else it keeps a roof over my head. I know that is not the best reason to stay, but it is the best I can do at the moment. Back when I decided to work towards a career in Human Resources, I had something very different in mind. It took me half my life to realize why I was never happy in career roles that had no people connection – I am a humanitarian. Once I discovered that about me it seemed only natural that HR would be the best choice for a happy career. Sadly, after the last two years it feels as though something inside me is trying to reconsider the direction I am taking. Maybe I should have turned left. Everyone around me points me in the direction of writing for a living, but it is so scary to take a step in that direction. A friend of mine asked me to look into Grant writing. We will see…

Something in my constitution has not been thrilled about taking chances since my surgery. I think when something that drastic happens it shakes a good dose of reality into a person. In the five and a half years since then I have yet to bounce back to my old self. Suddenly, I realize I have not the means to support myself into retirement. If something were to happen to my j.o.b., at this point, I would be homeless. Eleven years ago I sold my house, packed my daughter and a few belongings and moved us way way beyond the mighty Mississipp. I started out on that adventure with less than $4,000.00 in my pocket and a chest full of hope. I would no more take that journey than most if it were now.

Maybe it was not the surgery that drapes my sense of adventure, but aging. I turned forty just after they eliminated that little schwannoma. Maybe I would have begun this spiral into reality anyway – I will never know the answer to that wondering.

A part of my latest dose of reality is that I am alone. I can really feel that more than ever, and it means something to me now. That does not mean I am suddenly interested in throngs of friends and commitments that leave me drained and empty inside. It means the fact that while talking to people about their weekend activities that I have none of what seems to be ‘normal’.

Each time I use the word ‘normal’ I think of a dear friend from the past – Tommy. Each time I used the word in his presence he would ask, rhetorically, “What is normal?” Indeed…

Sometimes it is scary to be 3000 miles away from everyone that knows and hopefully loves me. Sometimes it feels safe, though.

I have spent so much of my last two years in an apparent state of sleep walking back into the past trying to recapture the me I became after spreading my wings. My thirties were the best years thus far, because they were filled with adventure, discovery, independence and self-fulfilling prophecy. I became more than I ever dreamed I would be and that all seems lost to me now. But, this morning, just now, I realized that I have been doing what so many adults do – spend too much time trying to recapture their youth. Oh my, I am one of those. I suppose it is time for me to realize that I have evolved from the place on the lifeline that brought me so much joy and happiness.

Okay… I accept that time has elapsed, and no longer am I the same spiritual being, and that the part of me that I missed has not departed, but is trying desperately to transform and evolve into something even greater… better. Is it a matter of letting go? What do I do next? I suddently feel like a toddler again. –sigh-

My Luck . . .

I worked a year and a half doing not only my job, but my bosses job in large part while working hard to finish my degree. In the fall of '09 I had to drop a class because work was requiring me to do even more. Now I can't return to school until after I pay the school back for that course.

My boss walks in after her weekly administration meeting with an unusual glow on her face and explained that she had just been given not only her bonus, but an additional amount that she wasn't expecting.

Since I've known her she's left work at 2:30 in the afternoon, if not earlier. She spends her time shopping the web, procrastinating, making excuses rather than doing. My coworker and I have worked 10 to 12 hour days consistently at great sacrifice to our personal endeavors and family.

This experience has taught me so much, especially the kind of boss I will be if I am ever asked to lead again.

I know, now, that I will likely never complete my education and most likely will never reach my goal of management. I never reached for management just so I could be a boss, but more because I want to affect change.

It's tough accepting the fact that I will be a follower for the rest of my days on this journey.

Revelations

Courtney and I had dinner together tonight. On the way out she saw a couple of my scarves in the floor of my car and made a smirky remark about one of them being hers. I told her they were not hers and she responded in a tone and with a look that I wish I didn't know. I wasn't going to argue with her, especially since in gutted me clear to my toes that she spoke to me as she did; self-righteous and arrogant with raised eyebrows and all.

I just came in and went straight to the shower... then tossed the scarves in the sink for a quick soak then hung them to dry. I'll give them to her tomorrow as I couldn't bear to wear them anymore.

Did you know you shouldn't trust just anyone with person info? Well, on my way home from work yesterday I called my pops to say hello, as I often do on the way home. We were just chatting and I told him of a new game my friend and I were playing 'against' another team with the goal of losing weight and changing our lives to healthy ones. In the conversatoin I mentioned that I weighed more than I have... he said nothing out of the ordinary, but the very next morning he decided that he was no longer going to come here on holiday, but would rather have Courtney come out and visit...Oh of course I am invited later on in the year... 'after' I have had a chance to lose the weight. He has never accepted that I'm not the daughter he wishes I were. :(

On the way home from the restaurant I imagined being in a horrid accident. It was one of those life and death accidents where I was hanging by a thread. I've imagined them before and have always dreamed or felt as though I would fight the white light to hang around tonight, though. Tonight the overwhelming feeling of lying back and letting go came over me so quickly and so thick that I could truly put myself in the fantasy. It was easy to just let go and drift away. It was almost peaceful.

I've always thought I was either part cat or still hadn't learned the lesson(s) I was meant to learn this round so would never die; especially early. It is kind of scary to not fear death though... I'm just tired. I'm tired of pretending life is fair and good and keeping a stiff upper lip and a positive attitude and turning the other cheek. I don't really think of me as being negative just accepting. I don't hate anyone, or harbor much ill will toward anyone (almost there though.) I just believe a whole lot less than I have all my life. I'm tired of hoping.

I surrender... I aquiesce... It is... merely, what it is.

A Mess...

Darkness dwells around me once again. I certainly understand why so many people end this journey. Tired of riding the roller coaster feeling good one day and complete despair the next. I don't understand... I can't help but ask me if this is the life I was meant to live? Detours, dead ends, winding roads leading to nowhere. Sometimes I feel like wandering off into the woods like an animal, or maybe that is what I've been doing for the last ten years... wandering off deep into the woods so as not to bring suffering to those who love me. I live pay check to pay check being able to put very little away to support me when I am too old to work. I have tried to finish school, but my work gets in the way and has caused me to drop classes and that only adds further financial burden. I have discovered that I know fear for the first time in my life, and I deplore the feeling. Feeling... This feels like a what it must feel like to a wild animal that has been caged. I am too independent, and not nearly needy enough for a man to find much worth in me, and though many people say there are plenty of men out there who like bigger sized women I call bull. The only men that like women who look like me are those who lack self-confidence and are in as bad shape mentally/emotionally as I. What good what it be to mix that cocktail? I have grown tired of pretending all is great and wonderful out of fear of running off the few people who have stuck by me. After all, who wants a fat girl singing the blues around to cheer them up? My baby is 19 and you know she's thinking of how she wants her life to begin. Empty nest never felt so rotten. When she leaves there will officially be no one. The folks say there is no shame in coming home. Of course, I know that... It's not shame, but the wild animal in a cage just thinking about that journey. There is a reason I left home 10 years ago and it was not because I don't love and adore my family. I would love to be able to hang blame on Dan for how he treated me over the four years I knew him, but I can't really do that. He did open my eyes and show me how absolutely naive I was as far as men and who they really are and what they really want from women. Maybe that's part of the mean... Before I met and experienced him I at least held hope that there was some truth to the statement, "There is someone for everyone." That's utter bullshit. Dan was kind enough to point out to me that most everything I am needed to be changed to be desirable by a man because men desired women who were delicate and demure. If a woman can drive their own nail, repair the stairs/plumbing/change the oil and a flat, haggle with a mechanic, barter with trade folks, mow the lawn, etc. she wasn't delicate (needy) enough to feed a man's macho isms. I tried for four years to reinvent the wheel to the point where I completely lost who I am. I can't even remember what it feels like to know inner joy or circumstantial happiness. I have been convinced that no one wants a woman like me, so I guess my heart and soul have stopped trying to find someone to share life with... it's easier, for the most part, to sojourn alone (even though it feels less and less like a sojourn these days.) There isn't a part of me that feels the elation of the spirit. I'm just dead inside. I get up, make coffee, take a shower, go to work, beat my head against the wall there, come home and am so exhausted I just become one with the furniture until it is time to start the program all over again. It is merely programmed survival. There is no quality of life right now... and I don't see it for my future. So what's the point??? It would be so much easier to just say, "I've had enough... I give," and cry "Uncle".

Whatever, and then some...

It feels as though I am defending my single status, again. It makes me chuckle sometimes because it is something so personal it leaves me feeling as though I am defending a sacred state of being. It is not all that sacred it is just me... being. I have been notified by a concerned friend that it has been long enough since my last relationship and I should consider diving in to begin 'the process'. I know she meant well, but... Whatever! ~chuckle~

Her comments stayed with me most the weekend while I plunged my shovel deep into the earth and while I pulled old roots out with all my might. It was great! I spent a goodly amount of time sleuthing through, around, and over my heart, mind, soul and spirit about this business of being single. I have turned up nothing decidedly different in that my marital status is not something I have chosen, but more accept as is. What is the big deal? Why does it trouble so many when a person is okay with walking the path, at peace, and alone. What is wrong with flying solo from time to time - or forever, if that is what feels right? It left me wondering if I appear unhappy or discontent.

I do not feel lonely or spiritless. This broken and lonely girl (not) is delighted, at the moment. I can come and go, and do all the things I want, or do not want. If after a long grueling day at the office I do not want to extend my day, by four hours, cooking and cleaning and washing (among 'other' things) I do not have to. :) I can put my comfies on, and make me a drink of something yummy and sit back with my feet up without a care in the world. I can wake up on Saturday morning and feel like writing (one of my life's passions) and just do it... all weekend if I want, and in my pajamas and no make up to boot! I spend my time reading good books, gardening, taking long luxurious walks with my camera, experimenting with new recipes without patting feet awaiting my arrival to the dinner table. Sure, I do not have sex, but when I weigh all the things I do have with the things I do not have I come out on top.

Honestly, being in a relationship just does not work well for me as I always lose me in the 'process'. It takes too much effort to try and keep a piece of me, because it is all about them; ya know? Relax, I am not saying that the men I have chosen are all self-centered (they are, but I am not using that as a scapegoat), but I am saying that when I am paired with someone they become my focus, because I was cursed at birth with this insane need to please. The double edged sword is that I also need to be appreciated. The flaw is within me, not them. It is rare to find another who makes giving a good part of life; I usually find the takers. So, think about it, pairing a giver with a taker can only spell disaster, because the taker takes until the giver runs out of stuff to give. Being in a relationship is just too much work for too little pay off. I am happy right now, so... whatever! (grin)

Okay, so she continues to argue with me (the friend) and tells me that I just have not found the 'right' man and that someday I will cross paths with the one that will allow me to co-exist in a healthy fashion and who will allow me to keep me. I said it is not their fault, but mine. I am the one that loses me in them. It is my issue, not theirs. I am responsible for keeping me intact, and I just do not do that very well when in a relationship. Whatever... (a come on over to my side smile)

Another friend asked me to consider the health of having 'friends' of the opposite sex as they add perspective to life. Well, I could not argue with her on that one, they sure do add a different perspective. (L) I have a healthy family of male perspectives if I need them. My last ex pointed out to me a while back that men are never 'just' friends with women; they always have some other motive(s). Uh huh. (wise smile)When recollecting past relationships I tend to agree with his point, especially after recently learning that the one guy I considered one of my closest and dearest friends actually had a thing for me. I never knew... :(

What do we seek out other perspectives for anyway? Validation? Understanding? Why ask for their opinion (perspective) when it does not really matter in my grand scheme? Everyone who knows me knows I dance to my own music and live life according to no one else's expectations; green shoes and all! Please don't take me wrong; I do enjoy intellectual discourse and discerning other's opinions is a fun hobby, but it is more of a discovery and compare mission than for validation.

So... Why should I start the process again? Huh? Ah, whatever! (griggling)

K.I.S.S.

(Dawn of a new year)

This being my first post of the new year I will recap last year in as few sentences as possible. It was meant to be the powerful year of recapturing my personal power and energy as I left Dan the tail end of 2008. While the year wasn't all it was meant to be, it was a great start. I spent much of the year working hard on a project that would introduce new software to the hospital during which I spent the summer traveling between home and our home office in Franklin, Tennessee. Those trips afforded me an opportunity to drop down and see my folks this year; which was a fantastic treat. This year also presented an opportunity for me to move us (C and me) to a real home that seems to give us both a great sense of peaceful/spiritual joy. We lived in a dump (where Dan had us living) for near four years and it was so nice getting back to our own standards. I started school the start of the year and while it was tough I made it work for eight months until my workload pushed me into near collapse; I had to drop a class mid class and that messed up my financial aid. :( Now I'm trying to right the mess, but am still not in school. It still boggles my mind as to why I can't just tag it onto my tab and continue going since it is I who will eventually pay back the loan, but, evidently it doesn't work that way. ~sigh~

The year 2009 provided me an opportunity to meet a new and curious friend. She's one of those people of like heart/spirit/mind that I've always said are connected by a golden thread. I am dedicating the philosophy for this year to her because she is the one who is reteaching me that keeping things simple allows our spiritual aura and our personal chi to keep flowing in healthy fashion. The philosophy is K.I.S.S.... Keep It Simple Stupid.

So, here we are at the dawn of a brand new year, and a brand new chance to make more progress as far as getting back down to the business of spiritual free living. When I left home in 1999 I began the process of moving toward simple living. Simple living isn't just something that can be accomplished physically, but can also be achieved mentally and spiritually. I realized when we moved in November that I drifted far from my philo of keeping it simple. lol This year I am bound to clear out that which makes my life complicated materially. Mentally I am bound to need some help because of school and work responsibilities and new cost of living changes, etc. I have my challenges for this year... my spiritual freedom will be difficult to achieve with so many other obstacles (worries) blocking me at every turn. I have to relearn how to Keep Things Simple so I am able to enjoy the simple pleasures such as standing by a window and being able to see the sun rise while sipping the first cup of hot coffee.

My new friend spoke words this week that gave me tremendous pause. What if the time of life to enjoy simpleness is gone with my innocense? In so many ways hope is tied to our innocense. As I have grown older and seen the ways of the world it becomes more difficult to live simply. I am bound to find they key.

Something old, something new . . .

Those words evoke memories of weddings and preparations, but this morning they are all about Christmas. I adore spending the quiet moments of weekend mornings sipping my favorite brew and becoming one with the twinkle of holiday lights, colors, and absolute silence - other than my rambling thoughts.

This is the first year since 2005 I have seen my Christmas tree, along with all my other holiday decorations, so it has been extra special spending time gazing at the memories that hang from every branch. My tree is so full of treasures that I have collected over the years, and recalling the happenstance of their origin simply delights me. My tree is, and will likely always be, a combination of old and new, handmade and store bought; but, I love it. (I collect snowmens and eclectic Christmas decorations from the past.) In the early days of Courtney's childhood we didn't have a lot of money to spend on big expensive decorations, but I didn't care. As a new mom I was anxious to start filling our new tree with lots of holiday traditions to match the masterful creation of my mom. From each branch of her tree hung memories of my childhood and from her life. Now I see the beaded/lace ornaments Courtney, her dad, and I made when she was in nursery school and smile a tearful, joyful smile. Some of them are elementary and are simply beads on pipe cleaners without shape or any resemblance to familiar Christmas shapes, but that is just fine by me as they might as well have been sold at Tiffany's to me.

Christmas Traditions . . . We tried to have the Christmas tree up on the evening of Thanksgiving as it was a tradition from my childhood that we have missed out on for so many years. I think we all loved the holidays so much and enjoyed the warmth the Christmas tree lights infused throughout our home that we put it up as soon as possible so as to enjoy it the longest amount of time possible, without seeming a bit on the obsessive side. lol Though we didn't quite have our tree up the eve of Thanksgiving I did put it up that weekend. I conjured a tasty batch of nog (hehehe I get the adult variety now), turned on some Christmas musie, and drug every single box up from the basement all by myself. It was such a fun night of sometimes silliness and sometimes tearful happiness as I pulled my special gems from their nest of tissue paper (remember I haven't seen them in almost five years.)

My baby girl is grown now and Christmas has changed. We used to make decorations together each year to add to our collection or shop for just the right addition. I sometimes become saddened by the passing of this tradition we shared, but realize it is a seed that I planted almost two decades ago that will grow and reseed itself in the years to come. Our tradition will renew itself and continue on in her own family just as it did with mine. I love Christmas.

I will add some pictures of my special ornaments to share them later when I have time to figure out the settings on my new camera to accommodate the lighting.