I always thought of surrendering as "giving up " or "giving in" - and I'm not a person who does either one for long. Sooner or later in the face of despair, I find my center and pick up the gauntlet once again.
But I now see that there is a more positive side to surrendering - one that has taken me a whole lifetime to learn - and that is to surrender by "letting go". The more I think about it, the more I realize that all of life is about learning to let go - or to be more precise - learning When to let go.
We enter this world "letting go" of the womb as we take our first breath; we leave this world "letting go" of our bodies as we take our last breath. And in between those two major points of surrender is the constant give-and-take of "holding on" and "letting go" - and learning how to recognize when it's time to hold on and when it's time to let go.
I have proven myself to be really good at "holding on" - many times when I would have been much better off "letting go" - of relationships that were not good for me, of judgments that were weighing me down, of people who were no longer my responsibility, of problems that were not mine in the first place, of ideas that institutions drilled into my head that never did fit me as an individual.
Now we will see how good I can become at "letting go" - of my past so I can embrace my future, of unhealthy attitudes so they can be replaced by more realistic ones, of bad habits so they can be replaced by healthier ones, of responsiblity for other people so they can learn to do it on their own.
I Surrender! It feels so good to say that to myself as I sit in my favorite spot typing away. I Surrender! It feels even better to say it as I face the world. I Surrender! It feels better still saying it in my heart as I turn to God.
I surrender all expectations of my self. I surrender all expectations of other people. I surrender all expectations of life.
I am a strong-willed person - have been all my life. And I must admit, that does have its benefits in life's struggles. But I see things differently now. I see that my view of the bigger picture is limited. I see that my strength will serve me better by using it to back up my surrender.
I "let go" of this year that is coming to an end - and I will walk into the New Year "holding on" to my surrendered state.
I will let God direct my path and I will put all of my energy into remaining open to His intentions for me. This is not a selfless act, believe me. Past experience has taught me that this is when the blessings truly flow in my life. But human nature being what it is, I didn't want to let go of those blessings once I had them.
God had to gently pry my death grip from those blessings - and now - once again - a little more humbly - I Surrender!
Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Transformation
This newly claimed part of me anticipates the life
casus that are waiting for me to gently
approach them........gently embrace them........while letting them ever-so-gently change the world I live in.
Thanks to http://www.weforanimals.com/ for their beautiful photo to bring life to my words.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Being Real
Anyone who has spent any time "getting real" with themselves finds they are led to deeper and deeper parts of themselves. Parts that words are inadequate for.
It is the same when we experience deep love for another person, or see an awe-inspiring sight. Words take away from the experience - put limits on it- make it less than it was.
And after a life-time of focusing on my inadequacies, I was not prepared for seeing even a hint of something that beautiful and innocent in myself. Maybe that is why God gave me the discovery in bits-and-pieces - and had somebody else tie it all together for me in a way that I could not dispute.
Why am I so surprised to find it there - at the bottom of all that garbage - didn't God make me too?
It is the same when we experience deep love for another person, or see an awe-inspiring sight. Words take away from the experience - put limits on it- make it less than it was.
And after a life-time of focusing on my inadequacies, I was not prepared for seeing even a hint of something that beautiful and innocent in myself. Maybe that is why God gave me the discovery in bits-and-pieces - and had somebody else tie it all together for me in a way that I could not dispute.
Why am I so surprised to find it there - at the bottom of all that garbage - didn't God make me too?
Friday, December 28, 2007
Difficult Conversations
When I am living a purposeful life, caring for myself and others, I am able to co-create a place for others to do the same. - Quote from Molly Young Brown
The most difficult part of a purposeful life, for me, is initiating conversations that I am uncomfortable initiating. Sometimes, with people who are important enough to me, I initiate them no matter how uncomfortable I am with it. Sometimes I don't.
It depends on the person and how they have responded to me doing that in the past. If I know from past experience that they are going to push me out of their life for the next few months for voicing my opinion, I am very careful what I give voice to - no matter how much I care about them.
I hadn't found my voice while I was still in my first marriage, and that ended in tragedy. I didn't make the same mistake in my second marriage. Sometimes I had to dig deep to find the courage to say the words that needed to be said. And I could often tell that my husband had to dig deep in himself to find the courage to listen to the difficult words I had to say.
But he accepted those words with the love they held; and he never once punished me for saying them.
There is a lot of power in truthful dialogue. In our society, we tend to shy away from the hard issues - leaving a lot of shallow talk being tossed around.
The same way that the healthiest roses grew from the shit at their roots, difficult conversations grow relationships of the deepest beauty, bringing out the best in everyone involved.
The most difficult part of a purposeful life, for me, is initiating conversations that I am uncomfortable initiating. Sometimes, with people who are important enough to me, I initiate them no matter how uncomfortable I am with it. Sometimes I don't.
It depends on the person and how they have responded to me doing that in the past. If I know from past experience that they are going to push me out of their life for the next few months for voicing my opinion, I am very careful what I give voice to - no matter how much I care about them.
I hadn't found my voice while I was still in my first marriage, and that ended in tragedy. I didn't make the same mistake in my second marriage. Sometimes I had to dig deep to find the courage to say the words that needed to be said. And I could often tell that my husband had to dig deep in himself to find the courage to listen to the difficult words I had to say.
But he accepted those words with the love they held; and he never once punished me for saying them.
There is a lot of power in truthful dialogue. In our society, we tend to shy away from the hard issues - leaving a lot of shallow talk being tossed around.
The same way that the healthiest roses grew from the shit at their roots, difficult conversations grow relationships of the deepest beauty, bringing out the best in everyone involved.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
The Day After
Today is "the day After" Boxing Day. This is a day I always spend just hanging out with myself - recouping my energies. It is a day when I place no demands on myself - there is a little bit of clean-up to be done and probably a load of laundry - but other than that, the day is completely my own. It has been a wonderful Christmas, but I am all "peopled" out and more than anything need some time alone.
Boxing Day was nice.
When my brothers and sisters (and I) were younger and raising our own families, we mosly celebrated Christmas in our own homes and then all got together with Mom and Dad on Boxing Day. Then my brother was killed in a motor vehicle accident. That following Boxing Day, Dad found it too painful with everybody getting together without my brother. Then by the next Boxing Day, Dad was getting over a stroke and couldn't handle the noise and confusion of so many people getting together.
Three or four years ago, my sister resurrected the Boxing Day get-together in her home. We all enjoyed it immensely. We had missed it.
But getting together at your childhood home on Boxing Day. There's a part of you deep inside that just relaxes into it - even if everything is different.
Dad is gone now - has been for many years. And Mom is in the middle stages of Alzheimer's. We are fortunate, though. The disease is being slowed down by medication and she even remembers our names. She is quite humorous by times. After a lifetime of holding everything inside, she says whatever comes into her mind. I find she laughs more now than she used to.
Yesterday we spent the afternoon just "being" with one another as we are now - creating some new memories that we will cherish in years to come.
Today I am spending the day just "being" with myself - with all of my ordinary life set on a shelf to make room for Christmas - and another day before I have to pick any of it back up. And I know from past experience that I will pick it back up slowly - do it a little differently - because I have been changed a little bit by the way Christmas unfolded itself to me.
There will even be parts of my life that I won't pick back up - because I will have realized once I have spent time away from them - that they are not really worth the time and energy I was investing in them anyway.
You know what I mean?
Boxing Day was nice.
When my brothers and sisters (and I) were younger and raising our own families, we mosly celebrated Christmas in our own homes and then all got together with Mom and Dad on Boxing Day. Then my brother was killed in a motor vehicle accident. That following Boxing Day, Dad found it too painful with everybody getting together without my brother. Then by the next Boxing Day, Dad was getting over a stroke and couldn't handle the noise and confusion of so many people getting together.
Three or four years ago, my sister resurrected the Boxing Day get-together in her home. We all enjoyed it immensely. We had missed it.
But getting together at your childhood home on Boxing Day. There's a part of you deep inside that just relaxes into it - even if everything is different.
Dad is gone now - has been for many years. And Mom is in the middle stages of Alzheimer's. We are fortunate, though. The disease is being slowed down by medication and she even remembers our names. She is quite humorous by times. After a lifetime of holding everything inside, she says whatever comes into her mind. I find she laughs more now than she used to.
Yesterday we spent the afternoon just "being" with one another as we are now - creating some new memories that we will cherish in years to come.
Today I am spending the day just "being" with myself - with all of my ordinary life set on a shelf to make room for Christmas - and another day before I have to pick any of it back up. And I know from past experience that I will pick it back up slowly - do it a little differently - because I have been changed a little bit by the way Christmas unfolded itself to me.
There will even be parts of my life that I won't pick back up - because I will have realized once I have spent time away from them - that they are not really worth the time and energy I was investing in them anyway.
You know what I mean?
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Christmas Day 2007
Christmas Day went well. I got up real early to get the giant turkey in the oven. Usually the family and I have a special breakfast together (it is the one day of the year the menfolk cook breakfast for the womenfolk). But this year, it's only me and the young people - and you never know what time the young people will be getting up. So we all did breakfast on our own.
Once everybody was up, we opened the gifts. Then everybody did their own thing until later in the day. I watched a movie for a couple hours and then spent the remainder of the time getting the meal ready. I called the recruits in to help about 2 o'clock - my son arrived at 3 with his new bride and mother-in-law.
We spent quality time together - sharing with one another how last night and this morning went - ate Christmas Dinner - divvied the leftovers between the households while cleaning up - then we did the ho-ho exchange - a lot of fun and a lot of laughs, as usual.
Then we called it a night - a good one at that!
Hope yours went well.
Once everybody was up, we opened the gifts. Then everybody did their own thing until later in the day. I watched a movie for a couple hours and then spent the remainder of the time getting the meal ready. I called the recruits in to help about 2 o'clock - my son arrived at 3 with his new bride and mother-in-law.
We spent quality time together - sharing with one another how last night and this morning went - ate Christmas Dinner - divvied the leftovers between the households while cleaning up - then we did the ho-ho exchange - a lot of fun and a lot of laughs, as usual.
Then we called it a night - a good one at that!
Hope yours went well.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
The Real Magic Of Christmas
I got up this morning at 4 a.m. to put the turkey in the oven - decided to stay up and do my morning ritual at the computer. This has become my favorite part of the day. The time of day when I check in with myself to see where I'm at - the time I check in with my friends to see where they are at.
I read somewhere once that life is what happens to you amongst your plans. Christmas is like that - you plan things, but they almost never quite go like you thought they would. And it is always the unexpected things that bring you the most joy.
We arrived home from town yesterday with a full afternoon of work scheduled to get ready for Christmas evening. An old friend stopped in unexpectedly. I haven't seen him for many months - he is working out of town now plus he is getting more call for photography work which he is extremely gifted at. We spent a couple hours "catching up".
While we were visiting, the woman I worked for three years back in her preschool called to wish me a "Merry Christmas". She calls me every Christmas and every Easter. It is so wonderful when people take the time out of a busy life to make you a part of these special holidays.
Shortly after my friend left, my husband's nephew stopped in unexpectedly for a visit. He left his family at home to celebrate Christmas without him; and drove 14 hours to spend Chritmas Eve and Christmas Day with his grandmother who is in the hospital with pneumonia. It could possibly be her last Christmas as she has been battling cancer for a few years now. He baked her favorite cookies for her, brought some gifts with him for her, and brought lots of movies for them to watch together.
My brother had to go home early. He is recuperating from knee surgery - is still in a lot of pain. My sister stayed and visited, though, after her family left. It was very nice. We used to be really close. We were married to brothers - she much longer than I - probably forty years compared to my twenty.
Her husband had been sick for years when my husband died. Then three years later, her husband died. Our grief kept us apart - our family isn't good at comforting one another. And we are more inclined to withdraw from others to lick our wounds.
I have never told her how much I love her - because we don't talk about such things in my family. I have never told her how much I missed her these past years - because we don't do that in my family either.
And yesterday, I didn't tell any of these people that "THIS IS CHRISTMAS" but it was - and it is - the rest is just frosting on the cake.
I read somewhere once that life is what happens to you amongst your plans. Christmas is like that - you plan things, but they almost never quite go like you thought they would. And it is always the unexpected things that bring you the most joy.
We arrived home from town yesterday with a full afternoon of work scheduled to get ready for Christmas evening. An old friend stopped in unexpectedly. I haven't seen him for many months - he is working out of town now plus he is getting more call for photography work which he is extremely gifted at. We spent a couple hours "catching up".
While we were visiting, the woman I worked for three years back in her preschool called to wish me a "Merry Christmas". She calls me every Christmas and every Easter. It is so wonderful when people take the time out of a busy life to make you a part of these special holidays.
Shortly after my friend left, my husband's nephew stopped in unexpectedly for a visit. He left his family at home to celebrate Christmas without him; and drove 14 hours to spend Chritmas Eve and Christmas Day with his grandmother who is in the hospital with pneumonia. It could possibly be her last Christmas as she has been battling cancer for a few years now. He baked her favorite cookies for her, brought some gifts with him for her, and brought lots of movies for them to watch together.
My brother had to go home early. He is recuperating from knee surgery - is still in a lot of pain. My sister stayed and visited, though, after her family left. It was very nice. We used to be really close. We were married to brothers - she much longer than I - probably forty years compared to my twenty.
Her husband had been sick for years when my husband died. Then three years later, her husband died. Our grief kept us apart - our family isn't good at comforting one another. And we are more inclined to withdraw from others to lick our wounds.
I have never told her how much I love her - because we don't talk about such things in my family. I have never told her how much I missed her these past years - because we don't do that in my family either.
And yesterday, I didn't tell any of these people that "THIS IS CHRISTMAS" but it was - and it is - the rest is just frosting on the cake.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Christmas Eve Day
It is Christmas Eve Day. I have my mincemeat pie in the oven along with one for a friend.
The granddaughters want to go to town - they have some money that is begging to be spent.
Then it is time to get to work on this evening's meal. It will be a smaller group than usual. My mother is not well enough to come. My older sister decided to bow out this year. But my younger sister is coming along with her daughter and her family. And my brother will be here. We do this Christmas Eve gathering for his benefit - so he will have an opportunity to take part in exchanging gifts and share a Christmas meal with family.
When he and his wife separated about twenty years ago, he moved back to our community. When Christmas came, he decided to spend it cooking Christmas dinner at the legion for anybody who didn't have people to spend the day with. He still does it - usually gets between 30 to 40 people of all ages - young adults to seniors. It is enjoyed immensely by everyone that attends. And he is a GREAT cook!
Do your best to enjoy any people in your world today and tomorrow - whether they are family or not. Pack away any sorrows or concerns - they will be there waiting for you when you go back for them. You might find that a "renewed spirit" makes them a little lighter to carry.
Don't worry about the things you would have liked to been able to do, but couldn't. Now is the time to "just enjoy" whatever way Christmas is unfolding itself to you this year.
I offer you a prayer to carry with you over the season - I can't give credit where it belongs because I got it from a friend who got it from a friend...
"May God's light surround you.
May God's love enfold you.
May God's power protect you.
May God's presence be with you.
Wherever you are,
God is,
and all is well."
Merry Christmas!
The granddaughters want to go to town - they have some money that is begging to be spent.
Then it is time to get to work on this evening's meal. It will be a smaller group than usual. My mother is not well enough to come. My older sister decided to bow out this year. But my younger sister is coming along with her daughter and her family. And my brother will be here. We do this Christmas Eve gathering for his benefit - so he will have an opportunity to take part in exchanging gifts and share a Christmas meal with family.
When he and his wife separated about twenty years ago, he moved back to our community. When Christmas came, he decided to spend it cooking Christmas dinner at the legion for anybody who didn't have people to spend the day with. He still does it - usually gets between 30 to 40 people of all ages - young adults to seniors. It is enjoyed immensely by everyone that attends. And he is a GREAT cook!
Do your best to enjoy any people in your world today and tomorrow - whether they are family or not. Pack away any sorrows or concerns - they will be there waiting for you when you go back for them. You might find that a "renewed spirit" makes them a little lighter to carry.
Don't worry about the things you would have liked to been able to do, but couldn't. Now is the time to "just enjoy" whatever way Christmas is unfolding itself to you this year.
I offer you a prayer to carry with you over the season - I can't give credit where it belongs because I got it from a friend who got it from a friend...
"May God's light surround you.
May God's love enfold you.
May God's power protect you.
May God's presence be with you.
Wherever you are,
God is,
and all is well."
Merry Christmas!
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Tagged
I've been tagged with a Christmas meme by www.howlsatmoon.blogspot.com
The rules: Link to the person that tagged you (hopefully I did that successfully), and post the rules on your blog. Share the facts about yourself. Tag random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Both. Wrapping paper is my first choice; but I like gift bags for the hard-to-wrap items and some of the food gifts.
2. Real tree or artificial? Real tree always. I must confess it has just been Charlie Brown trees since my husband passed away - until this year - I got an 8foot beauty. I just love looking at it.
3. When do you put up the tree? Usually about a week before Christmas. It depends when the granddaughters are around to decorate. This was something my husband loved to do, so I can just not bring myself to do it.
4. When do you take the tree down? New Years Day. My husband taught me the joys of leaving the tree up until then. I keep myself too busy before Christmas, so that is when I really get to enjoy the relaxing side of Christmas.
5. Do you like eggnog? Love it - but only allow myself one tall glass of the stuff with my slice of hot mincemeat pie Christmas night.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? A black doll - It was the same year I had read the story of Little Black Sambo. I loved that doll.
7. Do you have a nativity scene? I do have a tabletop one - the figurines are all white.
8. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? A coffee percolator from my first husband the last Christmas he was alive. I didn't drink coffee; he did. I wanted a meatgrinder and was sure that gift under the tree a whole week before Christmas was it. I was so excited - could hardly wait for Christmas morning to arrive. What a disappointment!
9. Mail or e-mail Christmas cards? Mail - and only to the people I want to keep in touch with but am not exchanging gifts with.
10. Favorite Christmas movie? For years, it was "It's a Wonderful Life". Now I can't say that I have a favorite Christmas movie. I love watching them all; it helps put me in the spirit. I do have a favorite Christmas character, though. It is the angel Gideon - he sits up in the tree playing his mouth organ when not busy doing his angel work.
11. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I keep my eyes open all year round for gifts that I may want to give - these are "what the universe sends my way" types of gifts. In November is when I start actively thinking what I want to buy for the people in my world.
12. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? On Boxing Day, I make myself my special Christmas sandwich which consists of turkey, dressing, and cranberries. I enjoy eating it along with a cup of tea.
13. Clear lights or colored on the tree? I switched over to clear lights several years ago - but I'm starting to miss the colored lights I had when my children were growing up. I have two tiny 12inch artificial trees in the kichen that I now put colored lights on.
14. Favorite Christmas song? I enjoy many of them - the radio station I listen to has been playing Christmas music all this week - but there just seems to be something extra special about Silent Night.
Who am I going to tag? How about www.deenie2007.wordpress.com - she does beautiful artwork - and www.sailorette.blogspot.com
Merry Christmas everyone!
The rules: Link to the person that tagged you (hopefully I did that successfully), and post the rules on your blog. Share the facts about yourself. Tag random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs. Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Both. Wrapping paper is my first choice; but I like gift bags for the hard-to-wrap items and some of the food gifts.
2. Real tree or artificial? Real tree always. I must confess it has just been Charlie Brown trees since my husband passed away - until this year - I got an 8foot beauty. I just love looking at it.
3. When do you put up the tree? Usually about a week before Christmas. It depends when the granddaughters are around to decorate. This was something my husband loved to do, so I can just not bring myself to do it.
4. When do you take the tree down? New Years Day. My husband taught me the joys of leaving the tree up until then. I keep myself too busy before Christmas, so that is when I really get to enjoy the relaxing side of Christmas.
5. Do you like eggnog? Love it - but only allow myself one tall glass of the stuff with my slice of hot mincemeat pie Christmas night.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? A black doll - It was the same year I had read the story of Little Black Sambo. I loved that doll.
7. Do you have a nativity scene? I do have a tabletop one - the figurines are all white.
8. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? A coffee percolator from my first husband the last Christmas he was alive. I didn't drink coffee; he did. I wanted a meatgrinder and was sure that gift under the tree a whole week before Christmas was it. I was so excited - could hardly wait for Christmas morning to arrive. What a disappointment!
9. Mail or e-mail Christmas cards? Mail - and only to the people I want to keep in touch with but am not exchanging gifts with.
10. Favorite Christmas movie? For years, it was "It's a Wonderful Life". Now I can't say that I have a favorite Christmas movie. I love watching them all; it helps put me in the spirit. I do have a favorite Christmas character, though. It is the angel Gideon - he sits up in the tree playing his mouth organ when not busy doing his angel work.
11. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I keep my eyes open all year round for gifts that I may want to give - these are "what the universe sends my way" types of gifts. In November is when I start actively thinking what I want to buy for the people in my world.
12. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? On Boxing Day, I make myself my special Christmas sandwich which consists of turkey, dressing, and cranberries. I enjoy eating it along with a cup of tea.
13. Clear lights or colored on the tree? I switched over to clear lights several years ago - but I'm starting to miss the colored lights I had when my children were growing up. I have two tiny 12inch artificial trees in the kichen that I now put colored lights on.
14. Favorite Christmas song? I enjoy many of them - the radio station I listen to has been playing Christmas music all this week - but there just seems to be something extra special about Silent Night.
Who am I going to tag? How about www.deenie2007.wordpress.com - she does beautiful artwork - and www.sailorette.blogspot.com
Merry Christmas everyone!
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Christmas Blessings
My oldest granddaughter and I spent the morning in town yesterday - doing odds and ends of last minute shopping - picking up a few more grocery items - mailed a package to a friend which should arrive around New Year's. It wasn't meant to be a Christmas present, so I didn't want it arriving during the Christmas season.
It was a nice day. We hadn't spent a day together in a long time. She is in her last year of university - and for the summer she went out to Alberta to stay with her mother. It is easy to find work out there, and she wanted to be with her mother, so that worked out very well for both of them.
We spent the afternoon wrapping gifts. I have a few more batches of peanut brittle and caramel corn to make, but needed a break from it.
My son and his new bride will be coming to visit today. We will have a birthday meal for my granddaughter. Her birthday was actually a couple weeks ago but this will be the first day that we are all in the same location to have a meal together. She has already received her gifts but my family always looks forward to a shared meal together as well. The younger granddaughter is making the birthday cake and I will do the meal - roast pork, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. My granddaughter just can't get enough "real food" as she calls it when she is home. Most of what she cooks for herself comes out of packages.
My son will drop off the Christmas gifts for here while he is visiting - and take his gifts home to be opened Chritmas morning. They are going to come back and join us for Christmas dinner and the "stocking exchange".
Christmas is getting close. My brother has arrived in Fredericton from Vancouver for his Christmas visit. I won't get to see him until Boxing Day when my family of origin is planning a Pot Luck - a first. Hope the weather co-operates; we have been getting snow almost daily this week.
Do what you need to do to keep your spirits up. Enjoy these next few days in whatever way you can. Only you know what you want and what you need - and what you can and cannot make happen. Love to all!
It was a nice day. We hadn't spent a day together in a long time. She is in her last year of university - and for the summer she went out to Alberta to stay with her mother. It is easy to find work out there, and she wanted to be with her mother, so that worked out very well for both of them.
We spent the afternoon wrapping gifts. I have a few more batches of peanut brittle and caramel corn to make, but needed a break from it.
My son and his new bride will be coming to visit today. We will have a birthday meal for my granddaughter. Her birthday was actually a couple weeks ago but this will be the first day that we are all in the same location to have a meal together. She has already received her gifts but my family always looks forward to a shared meal together as well. The younger granddaughter is making the birthday cake and I will do the meal - roast pork, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. My granddaughter just can't get enough "real food" as she calls it when she is home. Most of what she cooks for herself comes out of packages.
My son will drop off the Christmas gifts for here while he is visiting - and take his gifts home to be opened Chritmas morning. They are going to come back and join us for Christmas dinner and the "stocking exchange".
Christmas is getting close. My brother has arrived in Fredericton from Vancouver for his Christmas visit. I won't get to see him until Boxing Day when my family of origin is planning a Pot Luck - a first. Hope the weather co-operates; we have been getting snow almost daily this week.
Do what you need to do to keep your spirits up. Enjoy these next few days in whatever way you can. Only you know what you want and what you need - and what you can and cannot make happen. Love to all!
Friday, December 21, 2007
Homemade Gift Tags
We had been married a couple years when my husband told me that his aunt used to make her own gift tags from last year's Christmas cards.
We spent the week between Christmas and New Years with his parents that year. And I hadn't brought anything with me to do. (I'm one of those people who like to keep my hands and my brain busy.)
I remembered what my husband said about his aunt and the gift tags; and got to womdering how she went about it.
My mother-in-law kept every card she ever received; but she did give me permission to play with some of the Christmas cards.
I studied different cards for ideas. The easiest ones were the cards that had a smaller framed picture as part of the card - and a lot of them are like that. I just cut out the small framed picture and birthed an instant tag.
Some had shapes that were easy to cut out which made beautiful tags.
I was Hooked!
Eventually I bought myself a paper cutter so I could cut straight lines and make tags from the beautiful words inside the card.
I write directly on the tag if it is light in color. If it is too dark or shiny to write on, I make a hole with a hole punch and put a colored piece of crochet cotton in the hole; then write on the back of the tag.
This hobby eventually spilled over to include all cards - not just Christmas cards.
You end up with the most unique gift tags. Even my son prefers to use the gift tags I make. Half the fun is choosing just the right gift tag for that particular person and that particular gift.
Now I usually make my gift tags in January. It is such a cold month - one where it is nice to hibernate with "fun" projects.
My husband always knew what I was up to even if he didn't see me haul out the cards and set up my workshop at the kitchen table. It wouldn't be long before one of the card-soon-to-be-tags would make me chuckle.
I can still hear his voice coming from the living room, "I bet I know what you are doing!"
Another heart-warming memory!
We spent the week between Christmas and New Years with his parents that year. And I hadn't brought anything with me to do. (I'm one of those people who like to keep my hands and my brain busy.)
I remembered what my husband said about his aunt and the gift tags; and got to womdering how she went about it.
My mother-in-law kept every card she ever received; but she did give me permission to play with some of the Christmas cards.
I studied different cards for ideas. The easiest ones were the cards that had a smaller framed picture as part of the card - and a lot of them are like that. I just cut out the small framed picture and birthed an instant tag.
Some had shapes that were easy to cut out which made beautiful tags.
I was Hooked!
Eventually I bought myself a paper cutter so I could cut straight lines and make tags from the beautiful words inside the card.
I write directly on the tag if it is light in color. If it is too dark or shiny to write on, I make a hole with a hole punch and put a colored piece of crochet cotton in the hole; then write on the back of the tag.
This hobby eventually spilled over to include all cards - not just Christmas cards.
You end up with the most unique gift tags. Even my son prefers to use the gift tags I make. Half the fun is choosing just the right gift tag for that particular person and that particular gift.
Now I usually make my gift tags in January. It is such a cold month - one where it is nice to hibernate with "fun" projects.
My husband always knew what I was up to even if he didn't see me haul out the cards and set up my workshop at the kitchen table. It wouldn't be long before one of the card-soon-to-be-tags would make me chuckle.
I can still hear his voice coming from the living room, "I bet I know what you are doing!"
Another heart-warming memory!
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Christmas Carollers
I spent yesterday making caramel corn and peanut brittle because I knew the carollers would pay me a visit last night. They started coming the year my husband passed away, and have been coming ever since - six years.
Last night there were eight youths ranging in age from nine to seventeen, and two adults.
Christmas just wouldn't be the same without my yearly visit from them. They tell me it is the same for them - their Christmas wouldn't be the same without the little bags of caramel corn and peanut brittle they get to take home.
Most of my "food gifts" at Christmas are made up of these two items. It keeps well at a time when there is so much food around - people enjoy eating it - and, most important of all, it is one of the few treat foods I am not tempted to overindulge in.
Past experience has taught me NOT to do a lot of baking at Christmas. There is already so much food around. My sister is able to do all that fancy baking without eating half of it, so she brings a tray to be shared on Christmas Eve when we get together with some of our "family of origin" and Mom.
My husband's favorite thing at Christmas was hard candy and Christmas nuts; so I always put those out for him at the beginning of December. He also liked homemade fruitcake and pie. I didn't always get a fruitcake made - one year it was Easter before I got it made - that's okay, we enjoyed it just the same.
I did always make sure I made the pies, though - mincemeat for Christmas Day and Apple for New Year's Day.
I thought I would share my recipes for the caramel corn and peanut brittle for anyone who is interested in giving them a try:
Caramel Corn
1 cup popcorn, unpopped 1/4 tsp salt
1 cup butter 1/2 tsp baking soda
2 cups brown sugar 1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup white corn syrup
Pop the popcorn directly into a large roasting pan. (It pops better if you do it 1/3 cup at a time.) Boil butter, sugar, corn syrup and salt together for 5 minutes without stirring. Remove from heat. Add soda and vanilla. Stir thoroughly. Pour over the popcorn. Stir gently to coat evenly. Bake at 200F for 1 hr. Stir two or three times while baking. Pour onto sheets of wax paper and separate so will not harden in large clumps. (This makes a whole roasting pan full).
Microwave Peanut Brittle
1 cup sugar 1 tsp butter
1-1/2 cups salted peanuts 1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup white corn syrup 1 tsp baking soda
Microwave peanuts, sugar and corn syrup on high for 3 minutes. Stir and then cook for 3 more minutes. Stir in butter and vanilla. Nuke for 2 more minutes. Add soda. Stir quickly but thoroughly to evenly distribute soda. Pour onto greased cookie sheet or pizza pan. Cool. Break into pieces. Makes 1 pound.
Note: Every microwave is different so the time may have to be adjusted . The first batch will be sort of trial and error timewise; but once you figure out the correct cooking time for your microwave, it's great because it is so easy to do and turns out the same every time.
Last night there were eight youths ranging in age from nine to seventeen, and two adults.
Christmas just wouldn't be the same without my yearly visit from them. They tell me it is the same for them - their Christmas wouldn't be the same without the little bags of caramel corn and peanut brittle they get to take home.
Most of my "food gifts" at Christmas are made up of these two items. It keeps well at a time when there is so much food around - people enjoy eating it - and, most important of all, it is one of the few treat foods I am not tempted to overindulge in.
Past experience has taught me NOT to do a lot of baking at Christmas. There is already so much food around. My sister is able to do all that fancy baking without eating half of it, so she brings a tray to be shared on Christmas Eve when we get together with some of our "family of origin" and Mom.
My husband's favorite thing at Christmas was hard candy and Christmas nuts; so I always put those out for him at the beginning of December. He also liked homemade fruitcake and pie. I didn't always get a fruitcake made - one year it was Easter before I got it made - that's okay, we enjoyed it just the same.
I did always make sure I made the pies, though - mincemeat for Christmas Day and Apple for New Year's Day.
I thought I would share my recipes for the caramel corn and peanut brittle for anyone who is interested in giving them a try:
Caramel Corn
1 cup popcorn, unpopped 1/4 tsp salt
1 cup butter 1/2 tsp baking soda
2 cups brown sugar 1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup white corn syrup
Pop the popcorn directly into a large roasting pan. (It pops better if you do it 1/3 cup at a time.) Boil butter, sugar, corn syrup and salt together for 5 minutes without stirring. Remove from heat. Add soda and vanilla. Stir thoroughly. Pour over the popcorn. Stir gently to coat evenly. Bake at 200F for 1 hr. Stir two or three times while baking. Pour onto sheets of wax paper and separate so will not harden in large clumps. (This makes a whole roasting pan full).
Microwave Peanut Brittle
1 cup sugar 1 tsp butter
1-1/2 cups salted peanuts 1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup white corn syrup 1 tsp baking soda
Microwave peanuts, sugar and corn syrup on high for 3 minutes. Stir and then cook for 3 more minutes. Stir in butter and vanilla. Nuke for 2 more minutes. Add soda. Stir quickly but thoroughly to evenly distribute soda. Pour onto greased cookie sheet or pizza pan. Cool. Break into pieces. Makes 1 pound.
Note: Every microwave is different so the time may have to be adjusted . The first batch will be sort of trial and error timewise; but once you figure out the correct cooking time for your microwave, it's great because it is so easy to do and turns out the same every time.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
A Night Of Song
The night after a big snowstorm - and freezing temperatures - but still they came..............
We have known Albert and his wife Maureen for just over a year. I would guess him to be about my age(mid-to-late fifties) - she just a little younger.
Albert brought his guitar and led the rest of us in singing Christmas carols - three adults(me, Albert and Maureen), two young adults-in-training (my granddaughters aged 21 and 22), and an eleven-year-old(my great-niece).
The eleven-year-old and the 22-year old kept trying to drown one another out, which made it sound like we were belting those carols out in fine form - which really pleased Albert - which really pleased me.
I was grateful to him for providing us with the opportunity of having a night of song without even having to leave the comfort of our home. And it added another piece of magic to this year's Christmas - for us to remember in the years to come.
I think the granddaughters are more likely to remember the smell of the strawberries cooking for the homemade cheesecake I made for us to enjoy after we finished singing. It is all they talked about all day.
It is the little things that we remember longest - a smell, a laugh, a look, the way one family member teased another. Do you remember how we used to ..........
We have known Albert and his wife Maureen for just over a year. I would guess him to be about my age(mid-to-late fifties) - she just a little younger.
Albert brought his guitar and led the rest of us in singing Christmas carols - three adults(me, Albert and Maureen), two young adults-in-training (my granddaughters aged 21 and 22), and an eleven-year-old(my great-niece).
The eleven-year-old and the 22-year old kept trying to drown one another out, which made it sound like we were belting those carols out in fine form - which really pleased Albert - which really pleased me.
I was grateful to him for providing us with the opportunity of having a night of song without even having to leave the comfort of our home. And it added another piece of magic to this year's Christmas - for us to remember in the years to come.
I think the granddaughters are more likely to remember the smell of the strawberries cooking for the homemade cheesecake I made for us to enjoy after we finished singing. It is all they talked about all day.
It is the little things that we remember longest - a smell, a laugh, a look, the way one family member teased another. Do you remember how we used to ..........
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Oh Christmas Tree!
My granddaughters and my great-niece decorated the tree last night.
A beautiful well-shaped eight foot tree. I always get a real tree - had to settle for artificial when I lived in Toronto. There's nothing like a real tree - the smell alone makes it worthwhile.
It is a real beauty with all the decorations on it. I had given most of my lights to my son - never intending to have a big tree again now that I felt my life was over.
My young granddaughter lives upstairs and has her own Christmas tree for the first time. She had extra lights that I was able to borrow so we could do justice to such a fine tree.
The tree is decorated in such a way that it is beautiful even in the daylight, with the strands of pearls alternated between the gold garlands. The red/green plaid bows, edged in gold, that my husband helped me make are proudly gracing the branches between gold angels. The most beautiful angel of all, with her cranberry red dress and her golden wings, watches over us from her place at the top of the tree. I remember the year I bought her. I fell in love with her, but struggled with whether I should buy her. Even though she only cost $35.00, it was more than I could really afford to spend on something like that. But here I am fifteen years later, loving her as much as the day I bought her, and still so glad I did.
Years ago, I worked out a policy with myself on how I choose to spend my money. If it is something I need, I get it for myself with no questions asked. If it is something I want, then I ask myself how bad I want it. Is it a want that is here today and gone tomorrow; or is it a want that I will always regret not giving into. That angel was one of those second kind of wants.
I remember the tree I had the first year I was back in the Bay. I asked my someday-husband-to-be's nephew to cut me down a Chrismas tree. "How big do you want it?" asked this youth who is over six feet tall.
"Oh, about my height," I answer from my 5'2" frame.
He comes back with this little short tree - a tree so short you can't help but laugh at it. I had never seen a tree so short in my whole life.
"Why did you get me such a short tree?" I ask laughing.
"I got you a tree just as tall as you are," he says towering over me. He then stands the tree beside me and measures with his hand from the top of my head to the top of the tree, with both of us laughing more by the minute.
I never knew before that day what a short tree I would make.
But, you know what, even short trees decorate up quite nicely; and that angel was just as beautiful on top of a short tree as she is on a tall tree.
Christmas is beginning to unfold itself to me - a magical moment here - a magical memory there. Put them all together and you have this year's Christmas - completely unique from other Christmases but with little bits and pieces of familiarity.
A beautiful well-shaped eight foot tree. I always get a real tree - had to settle for artificial when I lived in Toronto. There's nothing like a real tree - the smell alone makes it worthwhile.
It is a real beauty with all the decorations on it. I had given most of my lights to my son - never intending to have a big tree again now that I felt my life was over.
My young granddaughter lives upstairs and has her own Christmas tree for the first time. She had extra lights that I was able to borrow so we could do justice to such a fine tree.
The tree is decorated in such a way that it is beautiful even in the daylight, with the strands of pearls alternated between the gold garlands. The red/green plaid bows, edged in gold, that my husband helped me make are proudly gracing the branches between gold angels. The most beautiful angel of all, with her cranberry red dress and her golden wings, watches over us from her place at the top of the tree. I remember the year I bought her. I fell in love with her, but struggled with whether I should buy her. Even though she only cost $35.00, it was more than I could really afford to spend on something like that. But here I am fifteen years later, loving her as much as the day I bought her, and still so glad I did.
Years ago, I worked out a policy with myself on how I choose to spend my money. If it is something I need, I get it for myself with no questions asked. If it is something I want, then I ask myself how bad I want it. Is it a want that is here today and gone tomorrow; or is it a want that I will always regret not giving into. That angel was one of those second kind of wants.
I remember the tree I had the first year I was back in the Bay. I asked my someday-husband-to-be's nephew to cut me down a Chrismas tree. "How big do you want it?" asked this youth who is over six feet tall.
"Oh, about my height," I answer from my 5'2" frame.
He comes back with this little short tree - a tree so short you can't help but laugh at it. I had never seen a tree so short in my whole life.
"Why did you get me such a short tree?" I ask laughing.
"I got you a tree just as tall as you are," he says towering over me. He then stands the tree beside me and measures with his hand from the top of my head to the top of the tree, with both of us laughing more by the minute.
I never knew before that day what a short tree I would make.
But, you know what, even short trees decorate up quite nicely; and that angel was just as beautiful on top of a short tree as she is on a tall tree.
Christmas is beginning to unfold itself to me - a magical moment here - a magical memory there. Put them all together and you have this year's Christmas - completely unique from other Christmases but with little bits and pieces of familiarity.
Monday, December 17, 2007
O Come All Ye Faithful!
A couple years after my husband died, I had the good fortune to assist at a pre-school. As stated before, I heal better around children. It was a wonderful experience - the woman that ran the school was great with kids; and those little 4-year-olds were just what I needed.
I am a born nurturer, and I gravitated towards the handful of children that were having difficulty leaving Mom and Dad for the day. We had one little boy and one little girl that were too shy to talk until the fourth month. There was another little boy who was extremely sensitive. He was never ready to interact with the other children until he sat real close to me for about half an hour.
I have so many memories that I cherish from that year - and some lasting friendships. There was one little boy whose faithfulness matches only one person I have known before. I had a friend when I lived in Toronto - she's gone now - but whenever I think of her, it is her faithfulness that stands out to me. She was the most faithful friend I ever had; I still miss her presence in my life. This little boy is like that - his whole being just oozes faithfulness. He is in grade 3 now - and still makes me a part of his life - even though he has moved on. Do you know how rare faithfulness like that is in the grown-up world?
Last night he called me to get my address - he must be going to make me a Christmas card. We talked for about half an hour. It was a delighful surprise that really added a lot of magic to my
"one step at a time" approach to Christmas.
My son is a faithful person as well. I remember the year he spent Christmas with a woman he was dating, and her two children. I never once felt left out even though I spent Christmas alone that year. Every time he went shopping for gifts, he called home and told me of his purchases. I felt as much a part of their Christmas as if I was really there. I was in touch with his excitement and anticipation every step of the way.
I opened my gifts - one a day the week leading up to Christmas - so that I would not feel lonely on Christmas morning. Then I treated myself to music "that soothes the soul" on Christmas morning. I went to my sister's for Christmas dinner that year - one of the benefits of belonging to a large family - there's always somebody to make room for you at the dinner table.
The world is made richer by the rare person who knows how to be faithful to the people in their world, while going about the business of living. If you have one of these rare jewels on your list of friends and family - treasure them, watch them, learn from them. You'll never be sorry that you did!
I am a born nurturer, and I gravitated towards the handful of children that were having difficulty leaving Mom and Dad for the day. We had one little boy and one little girl that were too shy to talk until the fourth month. There was another little boy who was extremely sensitive. He was never ready to interact with the other children until he sat real close to me for about half an hour.
I have so many memories that I cherish from that year - and some lasting friendships. There was one little boy whose faithfulness matches only one person I have known before. I had a friend when I lived in Toronto - she's gone now - but whenever I think of her, it is her faithfulness that stands out to me. She was the most faithful friend I ever had; I still miss her presence in my life. This little boy is like that - his whole being just oozes faithfulness. He is in grade 3 now - and still makes me a part of his life - even though he has moved on. Do you know how rare faithfulness like that is in the grown-up world?
Last night he called me to get my address - he must be going to make me a Christmas card. We talked for about half an hour. It was a delighful surprise that really added a lot of magic to my
"one step at a time" approach to Christmas.
My son is a faithful person as well. I remember the year he spent Christmas with a woman he was dating, and her two children. I never once felt left out even though I spent Christmas alone that year. Every time he went shopping for gifts, he called home and told me of his purchases. I felt as much a part of their Christmas as if I was really there. I was in touch with his excitement and anticipation every step of the way.
I opened my gifts - one a day the week leading up to Christmas - so that I would not feel lonely on Christmas morning. Then I treated myself to music "that soothes the soul" on Christmas morning. I went to my sister's for Christmas dinner that year - one of the benefits of belonging to a large family - there's always somebody to make room for you at the dinner table.
The world is made richer by the rare person who knows how to be faithful to the people in their world, while going about the business of living. If you have one of these rare jewels on your list of friends and family - treasure them, watch them, learn from them. You'll never be sorry that you did!
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Christmas Grief
Quote from "Coming Home To Myself" - Marion Woodman and Jill Mellick
Once you have explored the depths,
don't wallow in them.
It's not only boring,
it's destructive.
Let grace enter.
It brings with it
a new understanding of love.
We are all more vulnerable at Christmastime. Maybe that is because our hearts are more open at that time - as our hopes and expectations for love given and love received get intermingled with our plans for a merry or not-so-merry Christmas.
It is made even more difficult when someone we love can not be with us - whatever the reason. My granddaughters, at the ages of 21 and 22, are facing their first Christmas without their mother. One of the pitfalls of working as far north as you can get, and not being able to get time off at Christmas. The oldest girl has admitted to unexplained tearfulness the last couple weeks that she does not understand. I told her it is grief - the sadness of knowing that her mother will not be here with them this Christmas.
They will be spending Christmas with me, their uncle and his new bride, and lots of extended family. There will be lots of gifts, lots of food, and lots of Christmas merriment. But those of us who are older know, from past experience, that the girls will have to make a conscious effort to take part in, and enjoy, the festive season.
That "grief pain" will definitely be a part of this Christmas season for them - but it doesn't have to be all of it.
Once you have explored the depths,
don't wallow in them.
It's not only boring,
it's destructive.
Let grace enter.
It brings with it
a new understanding of love.
We are all more vulnerable at Christmastime. Maybe that is because our hearts are more open at that time - as our hopes and expectations for love given and love received get intermingled with our plans for a merry or not-so-merry Christmas.
It is made even more difficult when someone we love can not be with us - whatever the reason. My granddaughters, at the ages of 21 and 22, are facing their first Christmas without their mother. One of the pitfalls of working as far north as you can get, and not being able to get time off at Christmas. The oldest girl has admitted to unexplained tearfulness the last couple weeks that she does not understand. I told her it is grief - the sadness of knowing that her mother will not be here with them this Christmas.
They will be spending Christmas with me, their uncle and his new bride, and lots of extended family. There will be lots of gifts, lots of food, and lots of Christmas merriment. But those of us who are older know, from past experience, that the girls will have to make a conscious effort to take part in, and enjoy, the festive season.
That "grief pain" will definitely be a part of this Christmas season for them - but it doesn't have to be all of it.
Friday, December 14, 2007
The Magic Of Christmas
At Christmas time, in my family, Santa brought two gifts for each of us - our main gift and then coloring book and crayons or a jigsaw puzzle.
With there being so many of us, eleven in all, this looked like a lot once you put it around the tree. It would take up half the living room.
I always liked watching everyone open their gifts, so I would leave mine unopened until everyone else was done opening theirs. Come to think of it, I have lived my life that way. I have watched everyone else open their spiritual gifts, leaving mine sit there unopened. Now I'm beginning to get excited about what mine might be.
There wasn't enough money to fill stockings; but I have always remembered the year my father's sister knitted a pair of mittens for each of us; and then she filled them with candy and nuts. Mom hung these mittens like you would stockings - it was so exciting.
And one year, when I was about eleven, I remember being very excited because we had popcorn and Coca-cola in the house. It felt like we were one of those families I saw on television.
We always had a big turkey for Christmas Dinner and pies made with Mom's homemade mincemeat. She would spend Christmas Eve day baking other treats that she only made at Christmas - Mocha Cakes(pieces of white cake rolled in ground peanuts or walnuts) and War Cakes (eggless fruit cakes).
Christmas is all so magical when you are a child. Some people only know how to recapture that Christmas magic if they are making Christmas for a child; but that child still lives in all of us - just waiting to be reawakened by the magic that is so much a part of Christmas.
It doesn't require an open pocketbook so much as an open heart. It took me a lot of years to learn this. I wasted a lot of Christmases worrying about what I didn't have to give; now I keep my focus on what I DO have to give - and sometimes it is truly amazing where little opportunities to give present themselves - keeping the spirit of Santa alive even in the world of grownups.
With there being so many of us, eleven in all, this looked like a lot once you put it around the tree. It would take up half the living room.
I always liked watching everyone open their gifts, so I would leave mine unopened until everyone else was done opening theirs. Come to think of it, I have lived my life that way. I have watched everyone else open their spiritual gifts, leaving mine sit there unopened. Now I'm beginning to get excited about what mine might be.
There wasn't enough money to fill stockings; but I have always remembered the year my father's sister knitted a pair of mittens for each of us; and then she filled them with candy and nuts. Mom hung these mittens like you would stockings - it was so exciting.
And one year, when I was about eleven, I remember being very excited because we had popcorn and Coca-cola in the house. It felt like we were one of those families I saw on television.
We always had a big turkey for Christmas Dinner and pies made with Mom's homemade mincemeat. She would spend Christmas Eve day baking other treats that she only made at Christmas - Mocha Cakes(pieces of white cake rolled in ground peanuts or walnuts) and War Cakes (eggless fruit cakes).
Christmas is all so magical when you are a child. Some people only know how to recapture that Christmas magic if they are making Christmas for a child; but that child still lives in all of us - just waiting to be reawakened by the magic that is so much a part of Christmas.
It doesn't require an open pocketbook so much as an open heart. It took me a lot of years to learn this. I wasted a lot of Christmases worrying about what I didn't have to give; now I keep my focus on what I DO have to give - and sometimes it is truly amazing where little opportunities to give present themselves - keeping the spirit of Santa alive even in the world of grownups.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Christmas Is Going To The Dogs
For a number of years now, we have been carrying on a new tradition where each family member buys two gifts for everybody's stocking. It has become our favorite part of the gift exchange.
One year when we couldn't get together on Christmas Day, nobody was willing to give up the stockings; so we got together a week before Christmas for a special meal and our stocking exchange. Then they took their Christmas presents home to be opened on Christmas morning.
The gifts started outgrowing the stockings, so we switched over to large shopping bags which we named ho-ho bags. All eyes rest on the person opening a gift from their "stocking" and needless to say there is a lot of laughter.
The first year we had our Samoyan husky, she was used to a quiet house with just myself and my husband living at home. She let us know she did not like all this Christmas commotion by laying at the far side of the living room with her back to the family; turning her head around every now and again to glare at us.
The next Christmas, I suggested that each person buy one treat for the dog and we fill a stocking for her. It didn't take her long to get into the swing of things and the ho-ho bags became her favorite part of Christmas. The following year, she started getting excited as soon as she saw the tree being brought into the house.
A problem presented itself, though, when we had a baby shower for my niece the next fall. The dog got more and more excited as the guests arrived with gifts for the new mother "in large shopping bags". I didn't make the connection until my niece had opened about three gifts and the dog had gone from being super-excited to crestfallen. Then I realized the misunderstanding on her part.
"Quick, somebody, go to the kitchen and get the marrow bones so we can remedy the situation!"
One year when we couldn't get together on Christmas Day, nobody was willing to give up the stockings; so we got together a week before Christmas for a special meal and our stocking exchange. Then they took their Christmas presents home to be opened on Christmas morning.
The gifts started outgrowing the stockings, so we switched over to large shopping bags which we named ho-ho bags. All eyes rest on the person opening a gift from their "stocking" and needless to say there is a lot of laughter.
The first year we had our Samoyan husky, she was used to a quiet house with just myself and my husband living at home. She let us know she did not like all this Christmas commotion by laying at the far side of the living room with her back to the family; turning her head around every now and again to glare at us.
The next Christmas, I suggested that each person buy one treat for the dog and we fill a stocking for her. It didn't take her long to get into the swing of things and the ho-ho bags became her favorite part of Christmas. The following year, she started getting excited as soon as she saw the tree being brought into the house.
A problem presented itself, though, when we had a baby shower for my niece the next fall. The dog got more and more excited as the guests arrived with gifts for the new mother "in large shopping bags". I didn't make the connection until my niece had opened about three gifts and the dog had gone from being super-excited to crestfallen. Then I realized the misunderstanding on her part.
"Quick, somebody, go to the kitchen and get the marrow bones so we can remedy the situation!"
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
The Soul Whispers
I listen
to her constant chatter
and realize sadly
that she is completely
out of touch
with her soul.
It is buried deep
beneath layers of pain
totally abandoned
by everyone...
including her.
to her constant chatter
and realize sadly
that she is completely
out of touch
with her soul.
It is buried deep
beneath layers of pain
totally abandoned
by everyone...
including her.
Monday, December 10, 2007
A Good Day
Today was a good day..............
A day of "being grounded" in myself.......
A day of being in touch with who I am and what I believe in..............
A day of knowing what direction I'm headed in even if I don't know what lies ahead..........
This was a day where I just focused on the here and now - with no regrets for the past - with no concerns about the future.
Yes, it was a good day.
A day of "being grounded" in myself.......
A day of being in touch with who I am and what I believe in..............
A day of knowing what direction I'm headed in even if I don't know what lies ahead..........
This was a day where I just focused on the here and now - with no regrets for the past - with no concerns about the future.
Yes, it was a good day.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Finding Your New Bottom
When the bottom drops out of your world, it is Scarey.......
And Sad.....
For a long time, every time I scraped myself off the floor, it felt like a Mack truck came by and knocked me back down again.
Over the past couple years, I have been making feeble attempts to rebuild; but it still kept feeling like there were more losses to be endured...... to be survived......
I still had a "homeless" feeling.
Yesterday, for the first time, I experienced that feeling of having a "new bottom".
And it feels like NOW I can start to rebuild.
And Sad.....
For a long time, every time I scraped myself off the floor, it felt like a Mack truck came by and knocked me back down again.
Over the past couple years, I have been making feeble attempts to rebuild; but it still kept feeling like there were more losses to be endured...... to be survived......
I still had a "homeless" feeling.
Yesterday, for the first time, I experienced that feeling of having a "new bottom".
And it feels like NOW I can start to rebuild.
Friday, December 7, 2007
How Much Is Enough
All my life I gave all I had to give and it never felt like enough....
Now, like the little drummer boy, all I have left to give is my song.
And for the first time ......
It feels like enough.
Now, like the little drummer boy, all I have left to give is my song.
And for the first time ......
It feels like enough.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Christmas Giving
I grew up in a large family (7 brothers and 3 sisters); and there was never enough money to go around.
One Christmas, when I was about eleven years old, my mother travelled a hundred miles and charged Christmas presents for all of us. The store was supposed to ship her purchases once her credit was approved.
The store made a mistake and shipped the parcel twice.
A friend of my mother's was not able to buy any gifts that year for her children. So my mother gave her friend the extra parcel, and then contacted the store to let them know what happened; expecting to pay for both parcels.
The store thanked her for letting them know, and said they would split the cost with her 50/50.
I have never forgotten what a giving heart my mother has - as witnessed by me so many years ago.
One Christmas, when I was about eleven years old, my mother travelled a hundred miles and charged Christmas presents for all of us. The store was supposed to ship her purchases once her credit was approved.
The store made a mistake and shipped the parcel twice.
A friend of my mother's was not able to buy any gifts that year for her children. So my mother gave her friend the extra parcel, and then contacted the store to let them know what happened; expecting to pay for both parcels.
The store thanked her for letting them know, and said they would split the cost with her 50/50.
I have never forgotten what a giving heart my mother has - as witnessed by me so many years ago.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
New Traditions
I don't think we set out to start a new tradition. A year just comes along when you have to do something different for one reason or another, and it goes over so well that people don't want to give it up - and sometimes they even build on it.
Like my family and peanut brittle.
One year, I was struggling for ideas for filling my son's Christmas stocking. He was at that age where he was too old for toys; but too young for shaving equipment.
One of the items I came up with was a box of peanut brittle. I didn't realize how much he liked it until the following year when I didn't buy him any. "What do you mean, you didn't buy any?" he asked. "That's tradition."
Well, it was from then on. Eventually I found a recipe for making my own peanut brittle in the microwave; and thought I would give it a try. That was an even bigger hit.
Part of each Christmas, while my son and daughter were in university, was spent with all three of us in the kitchen making peanut brittle for friends and family as gifts. Not one to be left out of the fun, my husband even helped.
Now, it is a tradition we each carry on in our own homes - making homemade peanut brittle for friends and family while savoring many pleasant memories.
Like my family and peanut brittle.
One year, I was struggling for ideas for filling my son's Christmas stocking. He was at that age where he was too old for toys; but too young for shaving equipment.
One of the items I came up with was a box of peanut brittle. I didn't realize how much he liked it until the following year when I didn't buy him any. "What do you mean, you didn't buy any?" he asked. "That's tradition."
Well, it was from then on. Eventually I found a recipe for making my own peanut brittle in the microwave; and thought I would give it a try. That was an even bigger hit.
Part of each Christmas, while my son and daughter were in university, was spent with all three of us in the kitchen making peanut brittle for friends and family as gifts. Not one to be left out of the fun, my husband even helped.
Now, it is a tradition we each carry on in our own homes - making homemade peanut brittle for friends and family while savoring many pleasant memories.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Christmas Past & Present
Of course, Christmas is different now with my husband gone. We celebrated Christmas the whole month of December. He loved to decorate; and always came up with new creations each year. I only had to show him a picture of something I liked; and he was able to make it.
We both loved to watch the Christmas shows together - which made for some quiet, enjoyable evenings. Sometimes we would take evening drives to view all the beautifully decorated houses.
We saved our visiting to do in between Christmas and New Years - when we could just relax and enjoy the company of others.
The first two or three Christmases without him were difficult but, eventually, I got the hang of it. I give a lot of thought to what gifts I want to give people early in the season; but the rest has to wait for my heart to move me. That way I know that what I am doing is what I want to be doing.
I no longer go into Christmas expecting it to be like other Christmases. I expect that each one will be very different from the ones that have gone on before; and I just wait for it to unfold itself to me.
We both loved to watch the Christmas shows together - which made for some quiet, enjoyable evenings. Sometimes we would take evening drives to view all the beautifully decorated houses.
We saved our visiting to do in between Christmas and New Years - when we could just relax and enjoy the company of others.
The first two or three Christmases without him were difficult but, eventually, I got the hang of it. I give a lot of thought to what gifts I want to give people early in the season; but the rest has to wait for my heart to move me. That way I know that what I am doing is what I want to be doing.
I no longer go into Christmas expecting it to be like other Christmases. I expect that each one will be very different from the ones that have gone on before; and I just wait for it to unfold itself to me.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Martha And Mary
It feels strange to be giving in to the Mary in me so much these days - imagining, writing, creating.....
Martha has always been the one in charge - there was always work to be done - needs to be responded to. I could count on the Martha in me to keep a tight control on Mary; but she seems to be loosening her grip - maybe a little too much.
Christmas is coming. There's work to be done. Martha, WAKE UP! Save me from myself before I lead us so far down the garden path that we won't be able to make it back in time for Christmas.
Let's not get carried away here. There is such a thing as too much of a good thing - Remember all things in moderationnn.........
Martha has always been the one in charge - there was always work to be done - needs to be responded to. I could count on the Martha in me to keep a tight control on Mary; but she seems to be loosening her grip - maybe a little too much.
Christmas is coming. There's work to be done. Martha, WAKE UP! Save me from myself before I lead us so far down the garden path that we won't be able to make it back in time for Christmas.
Let's not get carried away here. There is such a thing as too much of a good thing - Remember all things in moderationnn.........
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Tender Expressions Of Love
They are a part of all our lives....not always noted by us....not always recognized for what they are.
Up until the point when my father died with cancer, I had worked in offices all my life. It wasn't work that was dear to my heart, but I was good at it and it paid the bills.
I couldn't go through the motions any longer after my father passed away. I couldn't separate myself from the pain that was going on inside me - the grief was too fresh - the anger too raw.
The only job that appealed to me at the time was one for a nanny for a young professional couple with two little boys - one aged 3 and the other 6 months.
I went to meet the family and knew as soon as I walked in that it was the right place for me. A very gentle man stood in the kitchen, holding the baby in his arms while warming a bottle for him. The mother sat in the living room, reading to the older boy.
Knowing that I always heal best in the presence of children, I accepted the new found line of work. I was with them until the baby started school, at which time my husband wanted to move back to his home place a hundred miles away.
During that time, I gave and received many tender expressions of love. One of my favorites was from the older boy when he was about five years old. I was making spaghetti sauce and, as usual, it bubbled up and splattered the front of my top.
Peter said, "You should wear my mother's apron. I looked at his mother's beautiful full-length apron hanging on a nearby hook. It didn't look like it had ever been worn. "No," I said. "It would get all dirty."
"But, Rose, that's what aprons are for," he said, gently sliding the apron over my head.
"Do what you can with what you have where you are." -Theodore Roosevelt quote
Up until the point when my father died with cancer, I had worked in offices all my life. It wasn't work that was dear to my heart, but I was good at it and it paid the bills.
I couldn't go through the motions any longer after my father passed away. I couldn't separate myself from the pain that was going on inside me - the grief was too fresh - the anger too raw.
The only job that appealed to me at the time was one for a nanny for a young professional couple with two little boys - one aged 3 and the other 6 months.
I went to meet the family and knew as soon as I walked in that it was the right place for me. A very gentle man stood in the kitchen, holding the baby in his arms while warming a bottle for him. The mother sat in the living room, reading to the older boy.
Knowing that I always heal best in the presence of children, I accepted the new found line of work. I was with them until the baby started school, at which time my husband wanted to move back to his home place a hundred miles away.
During that time, I gave and received many tender expressions of love. One of my favorites was from the older boy when he was about five years old. I was making spaghetti sauce and, as usual, it bubbled up and splattered the front of my top.
Peter said, "You should wear my mother's apron. I looked at his mother's beautiful full-length apron hanging on a nearby hook. It didn't look like it had ever been worn. "No," I said. "It would get all dirty."
"But, Rose, that's what aprons are for," he said, gently sliding the apron over my head.
"Do what you can with what you have where you are." -Theodore Roosevelt quote
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Angel Of Awareness
She came to me in the middle of the night, removed the white cloak I was not even aware that I was wearing, and replaced it with one that was a medium-dark shade of turquoise. The color made me think of the deeper parts of the ocean - and I knew, without asking, that it symbolized the deeper parts of the unconscious I was going to be looking into - and the innocence that I would not be able to hold onto once I did.
She looked to be scarcely more than a child with her hair in pigtails, fastened with acorns. She was wearing fall colors which warmed your spirit just by looking at them, with large leaves from the maple tree forming her wings. Her long skirt was the color of bluejays, and was covered with the yellow sunflowers they love so much.
"I am the angel of awareness," she said gently. "I have come to walk with you awhile. You shouldn't be alone for the next part of your journey."
I just laid there, mystified, not sure how to respond.
"Your illusions are coming to an end", she said kindly. "They don't hold up well in the light of day. It'll be okay. You'll see. You don't need them any more. Not like you did back then. I'll be with you until you are over the rough part."
Comforted, I fell back to sleep and dreamed............... I am swimming in the Deep part of the ocean....observing great architectural structures....harvesting coral............
She looked to be scarcely more than a child with her hair in pigtails, fastened with acorns. She was wearing fall colors which warmed your spirit just by looking at them, with large leaves from the maple tree forming her wings. Her long skirt was the color of bluejays, and was covered with the yellow sunflowers they love so much.
"I am the angel of awareness," she said gently. "I have come to walk with you awhile. You shouldn't be alone for the next part of your journey."
I just laid there, mystified, not sure how to respond.
"Your illusions are coming to an end", she said kindly. "They don't hold up well in the light of day. It'll be okay. You'll see. You don't need them any more. Not like you did back then. I'll be with you until you are over the rough part."
Comforted, I fell back to sleep and dreamed............... I am swimming in the Deep part of the ocean....observing great architectural structures....harvesting coral............
Friday, November 30, 2007
Denial
I have programmed myself to think of denial as an unhealthy thing to give in to. I have gotten really angry at myself in the past for ignoring the obvious truths about certain situations. I have gotten angry at other people for refusing to see reality.
I'm having to review my beliefs on this subject. Maybe a certain amount of denial is a healthy thing - to carry us through until we are psychologically ready to handle the truth - until we have the resources we need to deal with the truth - until we have support systems in place to help us deal with it.
I'm remembering some of the seniors that I worked with over the years - one who continued doing way too much for others for a woman her age. When they finally made her face the truth, she sat down and grew old almost overnight.
A man who was sure he was going to beat the cancer that was ravaging his body - until he was shown a doctor's report that said there was no hope of beating it. So he just gave up and waited to die.
And then there was Mrs. McK. That woman lived with more denial than any person I had ever come across. They sent her home from the hospital on a three day pass not expecting her to make it through the weekend. She ended up living another three years. She was at death's doorstep more times than you could count; but she just denied it to herself every time, and kept right on living.
I wonder how you can tell when it is a healthy denial or an unhealthy one - when you are living with too much denial or not enough - or when it's time to stop living in denial once you've started living there?
How do you tell when the situation is one that would be best handled with denial? Obviously, it can't be a conscious decision or it wouldn't work.(?)
Now I'm thinking back to my friendship with my second husband, which I never believed would go beyond that - and how many times I got annoyed with myself for being willing to settle for that instead of getting on with my life. But then I would realize that if I left without having someplace else I wanted to be, or something else I wanted to be doing; then I would just be running away.
So I just stayed and enjoyed the moment...and another...and another...and another........Next thing I knew, we were married.
I'm having to review my beliefs on this subject. Maybe a certain amount of denial is a healthy thing - to carry us through until we are psychologically ready to handle the truth - until we have the resources we need to deal with the truth - until we have support systems in place to help us deal with it.
I'm remembering some of the seniors that I worked with over the years - one who continued doing way too much for others for a woman her age. When they finally made her face the truth, she sat down and grew old almost overnight.
A man who was sure he was going to beat the cancer that was ravaging his body - until he was shown a doctor's report that said there was no hope of beating it. So he just gave up and waited to die.
And then there was Mrs. McK. That woman lived with more denial than any person I had ever come across. They sent her home from the hospital on a three day pass not expecting her to make it through the weekend. She ended up living another three years. She was at death's doorstep more times than you could count; but she just denied it to herself every time, and kept right on living.
I wonder how you can tell when it is a healthy denial or an unhealthy one - when you are living with too much denial or not enough - or when it's time to stop living in denial once you've started living there?
How do you tell when the situation is one that would be best handled with denial? Obviously, it can't be a conscious decision or it wouldn't work.(?)
Now I'm thinking back to my friendship with my second husband, which I never believed would go beyond that - and how many times I got annoyed with myself for being willing to settle for that instead of getting on with my life. But then I would realize that if I left without having someplace else I wanted to be, or something else I wanted to be doing; then I would just be running away.
So I just stayed and enjoyed the moment...and another...and another...and another........Next thing I knew, we were married.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Shooting Straight From The Hip
The thing I love most about blogging is that it gives me one place in the world where I can speak my truth freely without having to respect someone else's sensibilities.
I grew up on cowboy movies, with John Wayne as my hero. To me, he was a man with a thinking heart(like one of my faithful commenters) who always shot straight from the hip.
I grew up in a family where no truths were spoken - in fact very little was spoken - probably out of fear that one of the many "secrets" might slip out. Actually both my parents were very quiet people who rarely communicated in front of us; and I believe both of them got buried in the overwhelming needs of a large family.
My mother found me very difficult, even in my young adulthood, because I had a strong need to express the truth as I saw it. My mother's driving need was to see the world through rose-colored glasses - even in her old age, she has not taken them off.
A while after my first husband died, my teenage daughter was acting out her grief. Finally, in desperation, I took her to a counselor and my daughter shared her truth: "It's not that Mom isn't right in what she is saying. She usually is. But it's like getting hit over the head with a sledge hammer."
It took me years of carefully observing myself to see and understand what she was talking about. Being very intuitive, I "pick up" a lot in my interactions with people; but if they make a subtle effort to communicate something to me, it goes right over my head. Verbal communications need to be very direct in order for me receive them; therefore I tend to express myself in a very direct fashion.
I understand other people's discomfort a little bit more since my niece came to live with me. She has a very literal mind and is also strongly intuitive. She notices things that even most adults are oblivious to and feels a strong need to speak her truth - whatever comes in her head comes out her mouth - annoying her peers and angering the grownups. She is forever "walking where angels fear to tread" - pointing out things that we "more civilized" adults have learned to "tune out" or "turn a blind eye to" or "keep to ourselves".
Both of us walk a fine line between the naked truth and brutal honesty. It is the way we look at the world - we are not capable of doing that part of it any other way. But where I have been able to make changes in my real world is in how much of my truth I share with the other people in it. I have been blessed with many wonderful people in my life who can not live with the large amount of truth I just naturally take in, and have had to learn how to deal with.
Out of love and consideration for them, I still shoot straight from the hip but only where it is necessary; and sometimes I put my kid gloves on first.
I grew up on cowboy movies, with John Wayne as my hero. To me, he was a man with a thinking heart(like one of my faithful commenters) who always shot straight from the hip.
I grew up in a family where no truths were spoken - in fact very little was spoken - probably out of fear that one of the many "secrets" might slip out. Actually both my parents were very quiet people who rarely communicated in front of us; and I believe both of them got buried in the overwhelming needs of a large family.
My mother found me very difficult, even in my young adulthood, because I had a strong need to express the truth as I saw it. My mother's driving need was to see the world through rose-colored glasses - even in her old age, she has not taken them off.
A while after my first husband died, my teenage daughter was acting out her grief. Finally, in desperation, I took her to a counselor and my daughter shared her truth: "It's not that Mom isn't right in what she is saying. She usually is. But it's like getting hit over the head with a sledge hammer."
It took me years of carefully observing myself to see and understand what she was talking about. Being very intuitive, I "pick up" a lot in my interactions with people; but if they make a subtle effort to communicate something to me, it goes right over my head. Verbal communications need to be very direct in order for me receive them; therefore I tend to express myself in a very direct fashion.
I understand other people's discomfort a little bit more since my niece came to live with me. She has a very literal mind and is also strongly intuitive. She notices things that even most adults are oblivious to and feels a strong need to speak her truth - whatever comes in her head comes out her mouth - annoying her peers and angering the grownups. She is forever "walking where angels fear to tread" - pointing out things that we "more civilized" adults have learned to "tune out" or "turn a blind eye to" or "keep to ourselves".
Both of us walk a fine line between the naked truth and brutal honesty. It is the way we look at the world - we are not capable of doing that part of it any other way. But where I have been able to make changes in my real world is in how much of my truth I share with the other people in it. I have been blessed with many wonderful people in my life who can not live with the large amount of truth I just naturally take in, and have had to learn how to deal with.
Out of love and consideration for them, I still shoot straight from the hip but only where it is necessary; and sometimes I put my kid gloves on first.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Twin Peaks
Now that I am coming out the other side of my wilderness experience, there just seems to be more and more people coming into my world with bits and pieces of insight that I need to complete the lessons on my plate.
One of these new people is half my age; but he is wise beyond his years. Today something he said helped me to realize that those mountaintop experiences that we love so much actually consist of twin peaks.
One of the peaks is formed by our openness to the lessons we need to learn. The second peak is built by us having the courage to put that knowledge into action once we have it. This path is not always an easy one to walk; it is often wrought with pain and confusion. But if we are willing to continue walking in the right direction; often with just enough light for the next step, we are rewarded with the manifestation in our lives, of what for the moment are just possibilities - and far away ones at that.
One of these new people is half my age; but he is wise beyond his years. Today something he said helped me to realize that those mountaintop experiences that we love so much actually consist of twin peaks.
One of the peaks is formed by our openness to the lessons we need to learn. The second peak is built by us having the courage to put that knowledge into action once we have it. This path is not always an easy one to walk; it is often wrought with pain and confusion. But if we are willing to continue walking in the right direction; often with just enough light for the next step, we are rewarded with the manifestation in our lives, of what for the moment are just possibilities - and far away ones at that.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Teen Friendly Home
My great-niece and I are having to deal with a very painful truth at the moment. I am not the right person to walk her gently through her teens. I kept hoping to grow into that person before we got to this point, but sometimes your limitations are just too much a part of who you are - and eventually you have to accept the truth of those limitations and do what is best for everyone.
I have always enjoyed being around young people, but if I am responsible for them, I need to know they will at least try to work within the rules that are in place for their protection.
It was a joy to walk my son and my oldest granddaughter through their teens. My daughter and my younger granddaughter were too much like I was as a teen - going to find a way to do exactly what we wanted to do no matter what rules are in place. My great-niece has that same kind of temperament - very strong-willed. She will have to do her learning through the school of hard knocks, same as I did. And I know that the only way I can be there with love and compassion for her is if I am NOT the one who is trying to enforce the rules.
So, we found her a teen friendly home with a couple girls that are just enough older than her that they will make good mentors for her. She has been wanting a pet; and now she will be part owner of ten of them - 1 dog, 2 cats, 2 birds, and 5 goldfish.
The "den mother" has walked many children through their teens, and most of them keep in touch with her. We will make the transition slowly from now until January when the actual move will take place. And we will continue to remain very much involved in each other's life, but at an arm's length - where I am not having to govern her behavior.
We did not know one another before we started living together three years ago; but we taught each other so much in that time - bestowed so many gifts on each other. She has become very important to me in that time - and me, to her. We both wish it could be different, but we both know it is the right thing to do. One minute she is excited about the upcoming changes, and the next minute she wishes it didn't have to be this way. Most of us are very familiar with those kinds of ambivalent feelings. Me - I am just looking forward to the opportunity to enjoy her without having to be "the grownup in charge".
I have always enjoyed being around young people, but if I am responsible for them, I need to know they will at least try to work within the rules that are in place for their protection.
It was a joy to walk my son and my oldest granddaughter through their teens. My daughter and my younger granddaughter were too much like I was as a teen - going to find a way to do exactly what we wanted to do no matter what rules are in place. My great-niece has that same kind of temperament - very strong-willed. She will have to do her learning through the school of hard knocks, same as I did. And I know that the only way I can be there with love and compassion for her is if I am NOT the one who is trying to enforce the rules.
So, we found her a teen friendly home with a couple girls that are just enough older than her that they will make good mentors for her. She has been wanting a pet; and now she will be part owner of ten of them - 1 dog, 2 cats, 2 birds, and 5 goldfish.
The "den mother" has walked many children through their teens, and most of them keep in touch with her. We will make the transition slowly from now until January when the actual move will take place. And we will continue to remain very much involved in each other's life, but at an arm's length - where I am not having to govern her behavior.
We did not know one another before we started living together three years ago; but we taught each other so much in that time - bestowed so many gifts on each other. She has become very important to me in that time - and me, to her. We both wish it could be different, but we both know it is the right thing to do. One minute she is excited about the upcoming changes, and the next minute she wishes it didn't have to be this way. Most of us are very familiar with those kinds of ambivalent feelings. Me - I am just looking forward to the opportunity to enjoy her without having to be "the grownup in charge".
Monday, November 26, 2007
Sacred Spaces
For many years now, I have been creating empty spaces in my life for God to fill. Once a year, I would go through everything I owned and part with things that I no longer wanted - with the intention of creating empty spaces for God to fill with things that were a better fit for me.
I didn't take it too kindly, though, when God initiated some empty spaces in my life on His own. First, my father died with cancer. A few short years later, my husband also died with cancer. At the same time my husband died, my son transferred a hundred miles away for his work. I had nothing left to give after my husband died, so felt forced into giving up my work with seniors - work I dearly loved. A year later, my oldest granddaughter moved away to go to university. My younger grandaughter moved to the island to live with her boyfriend. My daughter eventually moved as far North as she could get, after receiving a job offer that was too good to turn down. Then my beautiful white Samoyan husky got paralyzed and had to be put to sleep. I lost everything that I had built my life around - there was nothing left. Then I was in a car accident and needed to fight to regain my mobility. I know if my eight-year-old niece had not come into my life a short time before the accident, needing a place to live, I would not have fought to stay in this world. I would have gladly "given up the ghost".
I reacted strongly to each loss that came - to each treasured thing God "weeded" from my life. "What do you mean?" I cried. I'm not done with that. I Love THAT. I WANT that. But, of course, He didn't listen and another Treasured part of my life was taken from me.
I was lost in my broken heart for a long time. But slowly, I have come to accept the changes, even see the wisdom in some of them. And even now I know that I am unable to see the Big Picture; so I just live my life one day at a time and watch to see how God will bring new life to those spaces He created in my old life.
I Wait in Silence; and I Watch as His Grace gently unfolds new beginnings - such as this blog. I know it is something I would never have done on my own. I went to bed one night not even aware of the possibility; and got up the next morning with the full knowlege that I was going to start this blog and even what I was going to call it - with not one conscious thought on my part.
I have surrendered my will - Finally. I fought it tooth and nail - but finally I surrendered. And once I was willing to receive the new blessings God had in Wait for me, my life started to take on Value again.
It Feels good to be able to "Trust the Process" once again. Life is different for me now. It is not built around any expectations on my part. I am just grateful to be valuing life once more, as I look forward to what each new day brings me.
I didn't take it too kindly, though, when God initiated some empty spaces in my life on His own. First, my father died with cancer. A few short years later, my husband also died with cancer. At the same time my husband died, my son transferred a hundred miles away for his work. I had nothing left to give after my husband died, so felt forced into giving up my work with seniors - work I dearly loved. A year later, my oldest granddaughter moved away to go to university. My younger grandaughter moved to the island to live with her boyfriend. My daughter eventually moved as far North as she could get, after receiving a job offer that was too good to turn down. Then my beautiful white Samoyan husky got paralyzed and had to be put to sleep. I lost everything that I had built my life around - there was nothing left. Then I was in a car accident and needed to fight to regain my mobility. I know if my eight-year-old niece had not come into my life a short time before the accident, needing a place to live, I would not have fought to stay in this world. I would have gladly "given up the ghost".
I reacted strongly to each loss that came - to each treasured thing God "weeded" from my life. "What do you mean?" I cried. I'm not done with that. I Love THAT. I WANT that. But, of course, He didn't listen and another Treasured part of my life was taken from me.
I was lost in my broken heart for a long time. But slowly, I have come to accept the changes, even see the wisdom in some of them. And even now I know that I am unable to see the Big Picture; so I just live my life one day at a time and watch to see how God will bring new life to those spaces He created in my old life.
I Wait in Silence; and I Watch as His Grace gently unfolds new beginnings - such as this blog. I know it is something I would never have done on my own. I went to bed one night not even aware of the possibility; and got up the next morning with the full knowlege that I was going to start this blog and even what I was going to call it - with not one conscious thought on my part.
I have surrendered my will - Finally. I fought it tooth and nail - but finally I surrendered. And once I was willing to receive the new blessings God had in Wait for me, my life started to take on Value again.
It Feels good to be able to "Trust the Process" once again. Life is different for me now. It is not built around any expectations on my part. I am just grateful to be valuing life once more, as I look forward to what each new day brings me.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Empty Vessel
Like a bull moose
he acted out his frustration
everybody shying away
from his pain
until a kindly old lady
poured them each
a glass of grape juice
and said, "A toast -
first to your bravery;
and then to your grief."
Validated
he loosed his vice-like grip
and became virginal
an empty vessel
willing to receive
the healing
that was his all along.
he acted out his frustration
everybody shying away
from his pain
until a kindly old lady
poured them each
a glass of grape juice
and said, "A toast -
first to your bravery;
and then to your grief."
Validated
he loosed his vice-like grip
and became virginal
an empty vessel
willing to receive
the healing
that was his all along.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Truth, Honesty, and Compassion
We are called, one day at a time, to meet this world and the people in it with truth, honesty, and compassion. I find with the people I love most, I will have to attempt this on a "one moment at a time" basis - slowly, carefully.....
I am too used to holding myself back for fear of hurting their feelings, upsetting them in some way, or of making them angry at me. It is even more important to be forthright in those relationships that matter most to us. Who knows what loving gifts you are withholding from them by not sharing your honest responses.
And, if we hold back from telling somebody when they are stepping on our toes, or how our needs are not being met the way things are going, are we also holding back in our expressions of love which would let them know how much they really mean to us.
I have loved four men in my life - my father, two husbands, and a son. I was only able to "really" express that love to my second husband. I was not able to be honest with any of them about how my needs were not being met.
If I look a little deeper, I will see that I have withheld these things from myself as well. In other words, I have cheated myself and everybody around me of the very things that matter most in this world.
It takes a great deal of courage to be honest with ourselves - and even more courage to carry that honesty into our relationships with others - but with the time I have left, I am going to try to be brave enough to do that.
Who knows what beautiful gifts we might "birth" in our Selves, our lives and in the lives of others by this one courageous act.
I am too used to holding myself back for fear of hurting their feelings, upsetting them in some way, or of making them angry at me. It is even more important to be forthright in those relationships that matter most to us. Who knows what loving gifts you are withholding from them by not sharing your honest responses.
And, if we hold back from telling somebody when they are stepping on our toes, or how our needs are not being met the way things are going, are we also holding back in our expressions of love which would let them know how much they really mean to us.
I have loved four men in my life - my father, two husbands, and a son. I was only able to "really" express that love to my second husband. I was not able to be honest with any of them about how my needs were not being met.
If I look a little deeper, I will see that I have withheld these things from myself as well. In other words, I have cheated myself and everybody around me of the very things that matter most in this world.
It takes a great deal of courage to be honest with ourselves - and even more courage to carry that honesty into our relationships with others - but with the time I have left, I am going to try to be brave enough to do that.
Who knows what beautiful gifts we might "birth" in our Selves, our lives and in the lives of others by this one courageous act.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Personality Test
My friend and fellow blogger howlsatmoon.blogspot.com posted a link on his site for anyone wanting to take a personality test. I had great fun with it today and can confirm from my findings that it is right on. I haven't learned how to do links yet, but here is the address if you want to give it a try: http://www.mypersonality.info/ I turned out to be INFJ and like I say - it fit me to a "tee". And after finding out who you are:
Permission To Shine
Let the light of your being,
the consciousness of knowing your real Self,
radiate and illuminate
the human beings
you find before you,
as well as the community of voices
you find within.
Neil Douglas Klotz
Blessings of the Cosmos: Wisdom of the
Heart From the Aramic Words of Jesus
Permission To Shine
Let the light of your being,
the consciousness of knowing your real Self,
radiate and illuminate
the human beings
you find before you,
as well as the community of voices
you find within.
Neil Douglas Klotz
Blessings of the Cosmos: Wisdom of the
Heart From the Aramic Words of Jesus
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Ancestral Garden
And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane
by those who could not hear the music. - Nietzsche
Tulips on tiptoe
dancing with daisies
as a rambling rose
sings her song.
Magic in the moonlight
hope whispering softly
a song of sorrow
becomes a lighter tune.
Wind and water waltzing
hearts remembering
love building bridges
that look like rainbows
creating safe spaces
for children yet to be born.
by those who could not hear the music. - Nietzsche
Tulips on tiptoe
dancing with daisies
as a rambling rose
sings her song.
Magic in the moonlight
hope whispering softly
a song of sorrow
becomes a lighter tune.
Wind and water waltzing
hearts remembering
love building bridges
that look like rainbows
creating safe spaces
for children yet to be born.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Once Around The Dance Floor
My mother and father started going to the legion dances on Saturday nights after they got all us kids to the point where they didn't need babysitters for us. I joined them once or twice but it was not really my cup of tea.
My father would sometimes ask me to dance to songs that didn't move me. "That song doesn't move me," I would say. He couldn't understand my need to be moved by the music before I could move in rhythm to it. "The music does not need to move YOU," he would say, "YOU just need to move your feet." "Sorry, Dad, I can't do it. " He would walk away, exasperated with me, not understanding.
Then when I did agree to dance with him, it was nothing like when I was a kid. I kept trying to lead. (Not surprising if you know me.) Again he would get exasperated with me. "You keep trying to lead," he would say. "You are supposed to follow me." "Sorry, Dad, I'm trying." We would both walk away exasperated when the dance ended. He would go find a partner more willing to follow; I would go to gladly sit out the remaining dances - giving my all to enjoying the music.
Only once did I come across a dancer who swept me off my feet. I literally felt like my feet never touched the floor. It was at a high school dance. I didn't know the boy but I found out afterwards that nobody liked dancing with him because he preferred to do the ballroom style of dancing. When I imagine myself dancing, it is that dance I go back to in my mind.
The dance I remember as being the most fun was the Mexican Hat Dance. It was on the same night as the ballroom dancing experience, and I was the same shy teenager (agonizingly so) - but I loved the music - I loved getting to interact with all the different people without being awkward and out of step - and I just Loved the fun of it.
The most mischievous I have been on the dance floor was when I was "hanging around" with the man who would become my second husband. He prided himself on being self-contained at all times. We were at a house party and everybody was waltzing. I noticed that his boot socks(being loose at the toes) were right where if I positioned my feet just so, he would dance right out of his socks. Well, you know, I Had to do it.
This same self-contained man liked to hold me too close after we were married and waltzing in public. I would, of course, pull back- it wouldn't be proper. Why did I never think to invite him to waltz with me at home until now that it is too late. We interacted with each other in a lot of wonderful ways, but I let that wonderful opportunity slip right through my fingers. DARN!
My father would sometimes ask me to dance to songs that didn't move me. "That song doesn't move me," I would say. He couldn't understand my need to be moved by the music before I could move in rhythm to it. "The music does not need to move YOU," he would say, "YOU just need to move your feet." "Sorry, Dad, I can't do it. " He would walk away, exasperated with me, not understanding.
Then when I did agree to dance with him, it was nothing like when I was a kid. I kept trying to lead. (Not surprising if you know me.) Again he would get exasperated with me. "You keep trying to lead," he would say. "You are supposed to follow me." "Sorry, Dad, I'm trying." We would both walk away exasperated when the dance ended. He would go find a partner more willing to follow; I would go to gladly sit out the remaining dances - giving my all to enjoying the music.
Only once did I come across a dancer who swept me off my feet. I literally felt like my feet never touched the floor. It was at a high school dance. I didn't know the boy but I found out afterwards that nobody liked dancing with him because he preferred to do the ballroom style of dancing. When I imagine myself dancing, it is that dance I go back to in my mind.
The dance I remember as being the most fun was the Mexican Hat Dance. It was on the same night as the ballroom dancing experience, and I was the same shy teenager (agonizingly so) - but I loved the music - I loved getting to interact with all the different people without being awkward and out of step - and I just Loved the fun of it.
The most mischievous I have been on the dance floor was when I was "hanging around" with the man who would become my second husband. He prided himself on being self-contained at all times. We were at a house party and everybody was waltzing. I noticed that his boot socks(being loose at the toes) were right where if I positioned my feet just so, he would dance right out of his socks. Well, you know, I Had to do it.
This same self-contained man liked to hold me too close after we were married and waltzing in public. I would, of course, pull back- it wouldn't be proper. Why did I never think to invite him to waltz with me at home until now that it is too late. We interacted with each other in a lot of wonderful ways, but I let that wonderful opportunity slip right through my fingers. DARN!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Tennessee Waltz
A couple weeks ago I went to Harvey to speak about my dreamwork. In appreciation, the church group gave me a pin with a fiddle on it - Harvey being the birthplace of Don Messer (a well-known fiddler). That pin brought back some warm memories for me.
Don Messer used to be on T.V. every Saturday night - and quite often he would play the Tennessee Waltz. I was probably about ten or eleven at the time - and whenever Don Messer played the Tennessee Waltz, my father would take me in his arms and dance with me.
Of course, this led to me making sure I watched Don Messer every Saturday night, hoping and praying he would play the Tennessee Waltz.
I haven't warmed myself with this memory for many years. It's interesting what you remember once you get the pain out of the way.
Don Messer used to be on T.V. every Saturday night - and quite often he would play the Tennessee Waltz. I was probably about ten or eleven at the time - and whenever Don Messer played the Tennessee Waltz, my father would take me in his arms and dance with me.
Of course, this led to me making sure I watched Don Messer every Saturday night, hoping and praying he would play the Tennessee Waltz.
I haven't warmed myself with this memory for many years. It's interesting what you remember once you get the pain out of the way.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Choices Of The Heart
My first husband had been dead for a year and a half. It was the first significant loss in my life and I was devastated. We were living in Toronto at the time of his death so I buried myself in my work and my studies and the needs of two young teens.
It was Christmas and my teens and I flew home to the small town in New Brunswick where I grew up. We were looking forward to spending Christmas with my family.
My brothers and sisters had pooled their resources and bought a desk for my father. The day before Christmas, my sister's husband and his brother, Keith, delivered the desk. I said "hello" to them and turned back to what I was doing while the men sat at the kitchen table, talking.
I was not paying any attention to what they were talking about; I was concentrating on what I was doing. As Keith spoke, it was like I felt a hand reach right through me, into my stomach, pulling me in his direction. (Do we have heart-strings in our stomach? It appears from this that is where mine are.)
I opened myself to what was happening with a great deal of curiosity; I had never experienced feelings like this before. As the gentleness of his voice washed over me, I could feel all the tension leave my body.
Then I started listening to the words he was speaking. His words were like words that, up until now, I had only heard in my head. He was speaking of things that, up until now, had held value only to me.
Later that week, a group of us went sliding with the kids. Walking back, he stopped to play in the snow with his nephew. I had never seen a man play before. I thought how nice it would be to have a man like that in my life.
That's probably as far as it would have gone - I had full intention of going back to Toronto and burying myself in work, studies, and my teenagers. But we had a major blizzard and everybody was snowed in for twenty-four hours. It gave me plenty of time to think about what I was going back to and what I was leaving behind - Life in a big city alone with two teens or life in a small town, surrounded by family, where I could watch a man play (from a safe distance, of course), and let myself explore feelings that were completely new to me.
The second choice won out, hands down! Boy, did I ever make the right decision!
It was Christmas and my teens and I flew home to the small town in New Brunswick where I grew up. We were looking forward to spending Christmas with my family.
My brothers and sisters had pooled their resources and bought a desk for my father. The day before Christmas, my sister's husband and his brother, Keith, delivered the desk. I said "hello" to them and turned back to what I was doing while the men sat at the kitchen table, talking.
I was not paying any attention to what they were talking about; I was concentrating on what I was doing. As Keith spoke, it was like I felt a hand reach right through me, into my stomach, pulling me in his direction. (Do we have heart-strings in our stomach? It appears from this that is where mine are.)
I opened myself to what was happening with a great deal of curiosity; I had never experienced feelings like this before. As the gentleness of his voice washed over me, I could feel all the tension leave my body.
Then I started listening to the words he was speaking. His words were like words that, up until now, I had only heard in my head. He was speaking of things that, up until now, had held value only to me.
Later that week, a group of us went sliding with the kids. Walking back, he stopped to play in the snow with his nephew. I had never seen a man play before. I thought how nice it would be to have a man like that in my life.
That's probably as far as it would have gone - I had full intention of going back to Toronto and burying myself in work, studies, and my teenagers. But we had a major blizzard and everybody was snowed in for twenty-four hours. It gave me plenty of time to think about what I was going back to and what I was leaving behind - Life in a big city alone with two teens or life in a small town, surrounded by family, where I could watch a man play (from a safe distance, of course), and let myself explore feelings that were completely new to me.
The second choice won out, hands down! Boy, did I ever make the right decision!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
An Echo From The Past
Together on a toboggan
a full moon lighting up the sky
the stars twinkle in amusement
as this quiet, self-contained man
calls out her name -
flying down a hill of snow -
his arms wrapped around her waist.
An awesome experience....
But even more so
when years after he is gone
from her world,
the Echo reaches her
and stokes the cooling embers
of his Love.
An Echo
that lifts her
from a waiting casket
transporting her
over the rainbow
to a resplendent field of daisies.
She fills her pockets
and then gets on
with the task of Living.
a full moon lighting up the sky
the stars twinkle in amusement
as this quiet, self-contained man
calls out her name -
flying down a hill of snow -
his arms wrapped around her waist.
An awesome experience....
But even more so
when years after he is gone
from her world,
the Echo reaches her
and stokes the cooling embers
of his Love.
An Echo
that lifts her
from a waiting casket
transporting her
over the rainbow
to a resplendent field of daisies.
She fills her pockets
and then gets on
with the task of Living.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Integration
Spiritual birth, like biological birth,
requires a union of opposites,
from which the sacred child is born.
Jill Mellick
Sadly
taking his broken heart
out of his crippled hands;
he put his clown face on
and turned to face the world.
Bravely
she pulled herself
up off the floor,
let go of the past
and did the same.
In unison
they did the dance
of the seven veils,
honoring the gods
that had given them life.
A hush
fell across the dance floor;
as two hearts long ago broken
danced their way to Wholeness.
requires a union of opposites,
from which the sacred child is born.
Jill Mellick
Sadly
taking his broken heart
out of his crippled hands;
he put his clown face on
and turned to face the world.
Bravely
she pulled herself
up off the floor,
let go of the past
and did the same.
In unison
they did the dance
of the seven veils,
honoring the gods
that had given them life.
A hush
fell across the dance floor;
as two hearts long ago broken
danced their way to Wholeness.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Wagon Wheels
I do not know if I can find the right words to express what is on my heart this morning, but here goes. I will start out with a quote from Henri Nouwen:
"I have always been fascinated by these wagon wheels with their wide rims, strong wooden spokes, and big hubs. These wheels help me to understand the importance of a life lived from the center. When I move along the rim, I can reach one spoke after the other, but when I stay at the hub I am in touch with all the spokes at once."
I have found this to be true over and over in my life - whenever I make it back to my center - past all the barriers and the roadblocks I have unknowingly installed in myself. These same blockages that were erected to protect me from pain eventually created even more pain by their very presence.
When the pain in my life became too great, I started doing the necessary work involved in tearing these barriers down. It takes a lot of courage on one's part but a pain-filled life is a strong motivator. The work is not done quickly - it is done one painful step at a time, baby steps sometimes. But you find your courage and motivation increasing as you see the pain diminish and be replaced with ever-increasing small miracles.
My second husband and I both came from pain-filled pasts - me from a large dysfunctional family where emotional needs were never met and physical needs - just barely. My parents were good people, though, just doing the best they could do with too many to do for. I longed for children of my own, so I married a rage-filled man and started a family.
Keith was a confirmed bachelor trying to care for aging alcoholic parents. Before we met, I wallowed in my pain while he did everything he could do to avoid his.
I had been on my first inner journey for awhile when our paths crossed. I was very much in touch with my center and my inner world was "Coming Alive" while witnessing with disbelief one small miracle after another.
Our courtship consisted mostly of sitting beside each other on the couch - him with his arm resting on my shoulder - me with my head resting on his shoulder - listening to a Nana Maskouri tape I had brought - over and over - just soaking up the Comfort of each other's Presence - building a Friendship that would eventually see us safely through a marriage and his death.
The bonds of intimacy grew even stronger between us as he "lived" his dying with the same dignity with which he lived his life. I believe that it was because we learned to connect from our very "centers" that we were even able to maintain that connection and be there for one another (to a certain extent) after his death - giving each other the strength for our individual journeys.
I had to fight hard to stay in this world after he died - it did not have much appeal for me. Probably the only reason I fought so hard to stay is that I didn't trust my children and grandchildren to find their right paths without my eternal interference. Then God put a great-niece in my life at just the time I felt myself not being needed anymore, and was ready once again to "let go".
Now I feel ready, for the first time in my life, to just enjoy "being alive" - savoring the moment- and looking forward to what comes next - even if it is only "more of the same".
"I have always been fascinated by these wagon wheels with their wide rims, strong wooden spokes, and big hubs. These wheels help me to understand the importance of a life lived from the center. When I move along the rim, I can reach one spoke after the other, but when I stay at the hub I am in touch with all the spokes at once."
I have found this to be true over and over in my life - whenever I make it back to my center - past all the barriers and the roadblocks I have unknowingly installed in myself. These same blockages that were erected to protect me from pain eventually created even more pain by their very presence.
When the pain in my life became too great, I started doing the necessary work involved in tearing these barriers down. It takes a lot of courage on one's part but a pain-filled life is a strong motivator. The work is not done quickly - it is done one painful step at a time, baby steps sometimes. But you find your courage and motivation increasing as you see the pain diminish and be replaced with ever-increasing small miracles.
My second husband and I both came from pain-filled pasts - me from a large dysfunctional family where emotional needs were never met and physical needs - just barely. My parents were good people, though, just doing the best they could do with too many to do for. I longed for children of my own, so I married a rage-filled man and started a family.
Keith was a confirmed bachelor trying to care for aging alcoholic parents. Before we met, I wallowed in my pain while he did everything he could do to avoid his.
I had been on my first inner journey for awhile when our paths crossed. I was very much in touch with my center and my inner world was "Coming Alive" while witnessing with disbelief one small miracle after another.
Our courtship consisted mostly of sitting beside each other on the couch - him with his arm resting on my shoulder - me with my head resting on his shoulder - listening to a Nana Maskouri tape I had brought - over and over - just soaking up the Comfort of each other's Presence - building a Friendship that would eventually see us safely through a marriage and his death.
The bonds of intimacy grew even stronger between us as he "lived" his dying with the same dignity with which he lived his life. I believe that it was because we learned to connect from our very "centers" that we were even able to maintain that connection and be there for one another (to a certain extent) after his death - giving each other the strength for our individual journeys.
I had to fight hard to stay in this world after he died - it did not have much appeal for me. Probably the only reason I fought so hard to stay is that I didn't trust my children and grandchildren to find their right paths without my eternal interference. Then God put a great-niece in my life at just the time I felt myself not being needed anymore, and was ready once again to "let go".
Now I feel ready, for the first time in my life, to just enjoy "being alive" - savoring the moment- and looking forward to what comes next - even if it is only "more of the same".
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
The Crone
In her book "Coming Home To Myself" Jill Mellick describes the Crone as personifying the wise older woman who has lived long, suffered loss and pain, survived to tell the truth to herself (and others if they are ready to hear). She laughs with kindness at herself, learns to let go of her expectations, and forgives herself and others for their shortcomings.
I like to think that I have graduated to this phase of my journey. It is an interesting place to
be - to be living life one day at a time with no expectations - just facing what comes up in me as a response to what the universe puts in my path. It has its benefits - this way of Being. I wonder how my life would have been different if I had learned how to do this at an earlier age.
More than anything, I am loving this new, gentle acceptance of myself that seems to be a part of who I am now. It feels good and makes all of life so much easier.
I like to think that I have graduated to this phase of my journey. It is an interesting place to
be - to be living life one day at a time with no expectations - just facing what comes up in me as a response to what the universe puts in my path. It has its benefits - this way of Being. I wonder how my life would have been different if I had learned how to do this at an earlier age.
More than anything, I am loving this new, gentle acceptance of myself that seems to be a part of who I am now. It feels good and makes all of life so much easier.
Toxic Waste
One of my readers expressed admiration for me because of the sensitive material I am willing to share. I thanked her for the kind words but have to admit it is not courage that allows me to do this. It is like the joke I told a couple days ago about Shadow work. Nobody starts this work willingly. We are driven there by a need for less pain in our lives tomorrow than there was yesterday and today.
I have been a very private person for most of my life. I kept my thoughts and my feelings to myself. I have always felt things deeply. I have never been able to understand the insensitive things that some people do. And I felt powerless to do anything about it.
I am older now. I reaped what I sowed; I watched people I love reap what they sowed. If sharing what I learned along the way helps anyone on their journey, that pleases me. We are all in this together. But the real reason I share through my writing is much more selfish - my Recovery demands that I unload all of what I have spent a lifetime hanging onto.
Our bodies, like any other container, can only hold so much. They have been designed to dump their waste every day and be refilled with the nourishment they need for survival. This applies on all levels - not only physically - but also mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
I have been a very private person for most of my life. I kept my thoughts and my feelings to myself. I have always felt things deeply. I have never been able to understand the insensitive things that some people do. And I felt powerless to do anything about it.
I am older now. I reaped what I sowed; I watched people I love reap what they sowed. If sharing what I learned along the way helps anyone on their journey, that pleases me. We are all in this together. But the real reason I share through my writing is much more selfish - my Recovery demands that I unload all of what I have spent a lifetime hanging onto.
Our bodies, like any other container, can only hold so much. They have been designed to dump their waste every day and be refilled with the nourishment they need for survival. This applies on all levels - not only physically - but also mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The Moments of Today Are Tomorrow's Memories
"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." - Dr. Seuss quote
It has taken me six agonizing years to finally get to the point where I am able to do that. And believe it or not, if it was not for my dead husband's help, I never would have survived the ordeal.
My relationship with my first husband was a very physical one - it was also a very painful one. That relationship ended with his death.
My second husband and I had a very strong energy connection. We learned to make love with our minds long before we ever learned how to make love with our bodies. That energy connection continued after his death, and helped me get through the devastating grief I felt not having him in my life.
His gentle presence always had a calming effect on me - not to say I didn't get angry at him sometimes or disappointed in him - but I was always in touch with my feelings of love for him - no matter what else I was feeling. The lines of communication were always open between us even when we had issues with one another.
I think because we were friends before we were lovers - we were able to fall back on that friendship to carry us through the times we had to work through problems in the relationship.
One of his greatest gifts was being able to live in the moment - being able to enjoy the people he was with - no matter what he would rather be doing.
Me - I sometimes have a hard time pulling me out of myself to enjoy those around me; sometimes it's a real effort. Not when he was around, though. I just gave myself over to the experience and savored those moments.
And I thank God I did - for those Moments of Yesterday are my Treasured Memories of Today.
It has taken me six agonizing years to finally get to the point where I am able to do that. And believe it or not, if it was not for my dead husband's help, I never would have survived the ordeal.
My relationship with my first husband was a very physical one - it was also a very painful one. That relationship ended with his death.
My second husband and I had a very strong energy connection. We learned to make love with our minds long before we ever learned how to make love with our bodies. That energy connection continued after his death, and helped me get through the devastating grief I felt not having him in my life.
His gentle presence always had a calming effect on me - not to say I didn't get angry at him sometimes or disappointed in him - but I was always in touch with my feelings of love for him - no matter what else I was feeling. The lines of communication were always open between us even when we had issues with one another.
I think because we were friends before we were lovers - we were able to fall back on that friendship to carry us through the times we had to work through problems in the relationship.
One of his greatest gifts was being able to live in the moment - being able to enjoy the people he was with - no matter what he would rather be doing.
Me - I sometimes have a hard time pulling me out of myself to enjoy those around me; sometimes it's a real effort. Not when he was around, though. I just gave myself over to the experience and savored those moments.
And I thank God I did - for those Moments of Yesterday are my Treasured Memories of Today.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Shadow Work
Somebody told me a joke the other night - A man accidentally dropped fifty cents down the hole of an outhouse. He then took twenty dollars out of his wallet and threw it in with the fifty cents. Then he dove in and retrieved both of them. When asked why he did it, he replied: "You don't think I'd jump in there for fifty cents, do you?"
It is like that with shadow work. The Real treasures in life are only ours if we do the sh-tty work required, but none of us reach out for that work willingly. It takes painful life experiences to push us in. It takes knowing that our tomorrows will not be any better than our yesterdays unless we do some work on ourselves. Even then, there are many days that we would really rather just bask in the sunshine like everyone else.
But then, we retrieve a Treasure that has been lost for a long time and, recognizing it for what it is, our Hope is renewed and our commitment to our Quest is strengthened.
It is like that with shadow work. The Real treasures in life are only ours if we do the sh-tty work required, but none of us reach out for that work willingly. It takes painful life experiences to push us in. It takes knowing that our tomorrows will not be any better than our yesterdays unless we do some work on ourselves. Even then, there are many days that we would really rather just bask in the sunshine like everyone else.
But then, we retrieve a Treasure that has been lost for a long time and, recognizing it for what it is, our Hope is renewed and our commitment to our Quest is strengthened.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Destiny
A defeated woman
renewed from her mountaintop experience
throws off her blanket of daisies.
She walks into the rainbow
with her eyes wide open
wearing her heart on her sleeve.
She doesn't know what she will find
on this path
that is her destiny
but she feels ready
to embrace it
with all that she is -
no longer hiding out
in the swamp of forgetfulness.
renewed from her mountaintop experience
throws off her blanket of daisies.
She walks into the rainbow
with her eyes wide open
wearing her heart on her sleeve.
She doesn't know what she will find
on this path
that is her destiny
but she feels ready
to embrace it
with all that she is -
no longer hiding out
in the swamp of forgetfulness.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Rediscover The Power That Is Uniquely Yours
The terrible forces
in nature and in ourselves
that get in the way
of how we would like things to be.
EMOTIONS!
Energy in Motion.
Taking on a Life
of their own.
Respect it.
Honor it -
or die to your Self
and not even know why.
Powerful in its ability
to Destroy
all that we have built
while we helplessly
try to understand.
You can not Tame
what you have Denied
even Exists.
in nature and in ourselves
that get in the way
of how we would like things to be.
EMOTIONS!
Energy in Motion.
Taking on a Life
of their own.
Respect it.
Honor it -
or die to your Self
and not even know why.
Powerful in its ability
to Destroy
all that we have built
while we helplessly
try to understand.
You can not Tame
what you have Denied
even Exists.
Friday, November 9, 2007
The Key To Wholeness
Each of us gives away our power
in ways we don't understand;
afraid of its potential ......
She
sickening sweet
butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
Unreal
a ghost in the night
not fighting for what is rightfully hers
foolishly giving away her birthright
for a bowl of porridge.
He
fiercely fighting the strongest foe
but running in fear
from the need that pushes through his armor
hungering
for the giving and receiving
of gentle expressions of love.
He does not recognize his impotence
for the blessing it is - his Savior.
If he ever surrenders to it
he will find
it holds the very Key
he has been looking for -
the Key to Wholeness.
in ways we don't understand;
afraid of its potential ......
She
sickening sweet
butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
Unreal
a ghost in the night
not fighting for what is rightfully hers
foolishly giving away her birthright
for a bowl of porridge.
He
fiercely fighting the strongest foe
but running in fear
from the need that pushes through his armor
hungering
for the giving and receiving
of gentle expressions of love.
He does not recognize his impotence
for the blessing it is - his Savior.
If he ever surrenders to it
he will find
it holds the very Key
he has been looking for -
the Key to Wholeness.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Trolls In The Garden
Gotta be wary of the Trolls...............
They don't always come dressed like Trolls.
Some come dressed like a sister who is a trusted confidante
but jealously resents even the hint of anything good in your life.
Some come dressed like a brother who sincerely cares
but demands, in return, that you do everything his way.
Some come like grown children with lives of their own,
whose expectations keep you on the shelf - alone.
Some come in the form of "christian" friends
who are quick to judge even innocent behavior.
Some come in the form of "pretend" friends
who are only there for what they can get from you.
Most dangerous of all is that Troll that hides in your own self
waiting to trip you up, and punish you severely in ways that
even you are sometimes slow to recognize.
Be wary of those Trolls........
They don't always come dressed like Trolls.
Some come dressed like a sister who is a trusted confidante
but jealously resents even the hint of anything good in your life.
Some come dressed like a brother who sincerely cares
but demands, in return, that you do everything his way.
Some come like grown children with lives of their own,
whose expectations keep you on the shelf - alone.
Some come in the form of "christian" friends
who are quick to judge even innocent behavior.
Some come in the form of "pretend" friends
who are only there for what they can get from you.
Most dangerous of all is that Troll that hides in your own self
waiting to trip you up, and punish you severely in ways that
even you are sometimes slow to recognize.
Be wary of those Trolls........
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Elder Wisdom
Yesterday a friend gave me a card with a beautiful poem on it that I intend to frame, and keep in a spot where I will see it every day and be reminded that this is how I wish to live the rest of my life. The poem was written by Nadine Stair (age 85):
If I Had My Life To Live Over
I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
I'd relax. I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.......
I've had my moments and if I had it to do over again,
I'd have more of them.
In fact, I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments.
One after another....
If I had it to do again, I would travel lighter next time.
I would go to more dances.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
I would pick more daisies.
If I Had My Life To Live Over
I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
I'd relax. I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.......
I've had my moments and if I had it to do over again,
I'd have more of them.
In fact, I'd try to have nothing else. Just moments.
One after another....
If I had it to do again, I would travel lighter next time.
I would go to more dances.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
I would pick more daisies.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Christmas Wood
She woke up one morning
to find a wolf at her door.
Curious she was
about how he found his way to her;
and she - her way to him.
Curious she was
about the little treasure box
he held in his hands
almost invisible at first
in the mystical fog
that hung heavy over the land.
But she could feel her heart soften
like baby's breath
blowing a soft wind
lighting warm embers
melting frozen ice
that crystallized
into a rainbow of snowflakes.
Willingly
she took all the pictures
from her past
and gently reframed them
in white birch bark frames
known by some as "Christmas Wood".
to find a wolf at her door.
Curious she was
about how he found his way to her;
and she - her way to him.
Curious she was
about the little treasure box
he held in his hands
almost invisible at first
in the mystical fog
that hung heavy over the land.
But she could feel her heart soften
like baby's breath
blowing a soft wind
lighting warm embers
melting frozen ice
that crystallized
into a rainbow of snowflakes.
Willingly
she took all the pictures
from her past
and gently reframed them
in white birch bark frames
known by some as "Christmas Wood".
Monday, November 5, 2007
Subtle Body Communication
I was young when my first husband died. Nobody in my world had died before.
Many people came to the funeral parlor - not knowing what to say - they offered whatever words of comfort they could come up with, which only served to increase my pain. Then a man I didn't know came in - probably someone my husband knew from work or AA. He didn't say a word to me - just put his right hand on my right shoulder and left it there for a moment - then he moved on.
I can not tell you the DEEP comfort I got from this gesture - and not just for that moment. Whenever I felt overwhelmed with grief over the next months, I relived the feeling of having that Comforting hand on my shoulder, and it brought me peace and strength.
Well, today I had that feeling again. I was reading a friend's post(howlsatmoon.blogspot.com)
and he ended his post by saying, "I've got your back covered". I got that comforting feeling in the middle of my back - like a FRIEND had it covered - someone I knew could be counted on to honor the words they spoke. It gave me the courage I needed to move on and do the things I have to do now.
Words or gestures that reach you at that "Subtle Body" level stay with you, and you are able to call them back up again whenever you need them, because they have been incorporated into your Being.
I have already started walking some new paths - it gets a little scary sometimes because this requires that I even set aside outdated ways of thinking - old familiar ways. It requires that I trust the process - step out of my comfort zone. It also requires that I use a new set of tools in place of the crutch (food) I have used to get me this far.
I now realize a need for moving slowly in this new direction - a need for being gentle with myself - two things I'm not used to giving myself permission to do. Taking too big a step at one time has repercussions that interfere with the process. Baby steps sometimes get you farther - quicker.
I am realizing something else. We have to find the courage to start off in new directions on our own, but it is never a road that we walk alone. Along the way, we find other people walking the same road, taking the same journey. Shared insights create new memories and people you would never have chanced to meet become treasured friends.
Many people came to the funeral parlor - not knowing what to say - they offered whatever words of comfort they could come up with, which only served to increase my pain. Then a man I didn't know came in - probably someone my husband knew from work or AA. He didn't say a word to me - just put his right hand on my right shoulder and left it there for a moment - then he moved on.
I can not tell you the DEEP comfort I got from this gesture - and not just for that moment. Whenever I felt overwhelmed with grief over the next months, I relived the feeling of having that Comforting hand on my shoulder, and it brought me peace and strength.
Well, today I had that feeling again. I was reading a friend's post(howlsatmoon.blogspot.com)
and he ended his post by saying, "I've got your back covered". I got that comforting feeling in the middle of my back - like a FRIEND had it covered - someone I knew could be counted on to honor the words they spoke. It gave me the courage I needed to move on and do the things I have to do now.
Words or gestures that reach you at that "Subtle Body" level stay with you, and you are able to call them back up again whenever you need them, because they have been incorporated into your Being.
I have already started walking some new paths - it gets a little scary sometimes because this requires that I even set aside outdated ways of thinking - old familiar ways. It requires that I trust the process - step out of my comfort zone. It also requires that I use a new set of tools in place of the crutch (food) I have used to get me this far.
I now realize a need for moving slowly in this new direction - a need for being gentle with myself - two things I'm not used to giving myself permission to do. Taking too big a step at one time has repercussions that interfere with the process. Baby steps sometimes get you farther - quicker.
I am realizing something else. We have to find the courage to start off in new directions on our own, but it is never a road that we walk alone. Along the way, we find other people walking the same road, taking the same journey. Shared insights create new memories and people you would never have chanced to meet become treasured friends.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
This Too Shall Pass
"This too shall pass"
promises a calm after the storm -
promises a rainbow after the devastation -
promises sunshine after the tears.
Taken together these promises
hold out the hope of a new life
in the future - one that is built,
I presume, on the new insights
we have acquired
from weathering the storm
that is presently tearing us apart.
That new perspective on life
seems far away some days -
today is one of those days.
promises a calm after the storm -
promises a rainbow after the devastation -
promises sunshine after the tears.
Taken together these promises
hold out the hope of a new life
in the future - one that is built,
I presume, on the new insights
we have acquired
from weathering the storm
that is presently tearing us apart.
That new perspective on life
seems far away some days -
today is one of those days.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Reincarnation
A soulful cry
from the past
cuts through the night
calling
a spirit back to Life.
Finally
she's able
to stop cursing the darkness;
taking a warm memory
she lights a candle instead.
from the past
cuts through the night
calling
a spirit back to Life.
Finally
she's able
to stop cursing the darkness;
taking a warm memory
she lights a candle instead.
Friday, November 2, 2007
A Return To Community
I realize now that I am at the stage where the remainder of the healing that needs to happen for my quest to be successful can only take place in community. This means I will have to give up my self-imposed isolation.
I didn't call it isolation though when I started it last winter. I had pushed myself hard to regain my mobility for a year and a half after a car accident. I needed "time out" so, when winter came last year, I gave myself permission to hibernate. It was a very positive experience as I gave myself over totally to honoring my quest to get in touch with me, get to know me, be true to me.
Up until then, I was always too busy being tuned in to what other people needed from me. I had a set of standards that I adhered to whether the people in my world operated from those same standards or not. I often thought it over and chose to 'ACT' not 'REACT'. I could lower my standards of what I thought was right and fail to do something for them in reaction to their neglectful treatment of me or I could ignore their lack and act from my own code which seemed to be written on my heart.
It just was always harder to fight what was on my heart, and I never felt good about it afterwards if I did. I have now found a softer place for me to be - one that does not require so
much from me. I no longer take on so much of the responsibility for seeing that things get done. I set aside the thoughts that ask more of myself than I can lovingly give. I still see the needs around me but sometimes I have to accept the fact that I am powerless to do anything about them. Those are the ones that I turn over to God in prayer, trusting that He will do His part.
I didn't call it isolation though when I started it last winter. I had pushed myself hard to regain my mobility for a year and a half after a car accident. I needed "time out" so, when winter came last year, I gave myself permission to hibernate. It was a very positive experience as I gave myself over totally to honoring my quest to get in touch with me, get to know me, be true to me.
Up until then, I was always too busy being tuned in to what other people needed from me. I had a set of standards that I adhered to whether the people in my world operated from those same standards or not. I often thought it over and chose to 'ACT' not 'REACT'. I could lower my standards of what I thought was right and fail to do something for them in reaction to their neglectful treatment of me or I could ignore their lack and act from my own code which seemed to be written on my heart.
It just was always harder to fight what was on my heart, and I never felt good about it afterwards if I did. I have now found a softer place for me to be - one that does not require so
much from me. I no longer take on so much of the responsibility for seeing that things get done. I set aside the thoughts that ask more of myself than I can lovingly give. I still see the needs around me but sometimes I have to accept the fact that I am powerless to do anything about them. Those are the ones that I turn over to God in prayer, trusting that He will do His part.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Lessons Of The Heart
A year after my niece came to live with me, she told me that I have a strong voice. I knew she was referring to that forceful tone of voice that I sometimes use with her - the one I've used on myself my whole life. It doesn't get me anywhere with either one of us. And it leaves me feeling bad about myself.
How much better is the voice that is strong in its gentleness, in its love. How much more effective it is in changing those behaviors we are trying to change in one's self or in another.
How much better I feel about myself when I am able to use it.
As I observe myself without judgment, I notice that it is the wounds from my own childhood that get in my way sometimes of reacting from a heart of love. Now I just forgive myself and move on. It's over sooner than when I stop to beat myself up.
And children are so forgiving - another lesson we would do well to learn from them.
How much better is the voice that is strong in its gentleness, in its love. How much more effective it is in changing those behaviors we are trying to change in one's self or in another.
How much better I feel about myself when I am able to use it.
As I observe myself without judgment, I notice that it is the wounds from my own childhood that get in my way sometimes of reacting from a heart of love. Now I just forgive myself and move on. It's over sooner than when I stop to beat myself up.
And children are so forgiving - another lesson we would do well to learn from them.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Wild Things Grow In The Wilderness
Sister Grace told us: "You have to go into your darkness before you can go into the light." Your heart softens and then you can walk in the light."
Keith's dying opened the door that led to my wilderness. I had to struggle deep within myself to find the will to even continue living - to not "just give up the ghost."
When my 8 year old niece came to live with me three years later, I was forced to make my way out of my wilderness. I cannot say that I did this willingly.
Sparks would fly. I wanted to stay safe and secure in my dark coccoon; never feeling anything again. She, however, refused to take no for an answer. She NEEDED connection - and was looking for it from me. I was unable to ignore her persistence, so I would come out yelling.
This little she-bear did not care so long as we were connecting. She was the only person in my world strong enough to walk through my anger with me - she had so much of her own anger that we would just end up being angry together - for a little while - then both of us being peace lovers at heart, we would walk peacefully for another little while.
Eventually I said to her, "You know we are both in the same boat. We should just accept it and get along with each other." " What do you mean?" she asked. I answered her. "Well, you would rather be living with your mother but you can't; I would rather be living with Keith but I can't.
So we should make the best of things and try to live together in peace." She thought it over and
decided we could both put more effort into that.
Our third anniversary comes up next week. We are both doing so much better. And we have both been so good for each other in spite of all the feuds.
You wonder sometimes if God really knows what He is doing; but I guess when you are looking at the Big Picture, you see so much more. If we trust, God will cause even the dry places in us to blossom.
Keith's dying opened the door that led to my wilderness. I had to struggle deep within myself to find the will to even continue living - to not "just give up the ghost."
When my 8 year old niece came to live with me three years later, I was forced to make my way out of my wilderness. I cannot say that I did this willingly.
Sparks would fly. I wanted to stay safe and secure in my dark coccoon; never feeling anything again. She, however, refused to take no for an answer. She NEEDED connection - and was looking for it from me. I was unable to ignore her persistence, so I would come out yelling.
This little she-bear did not care so long as we were connecting. She was the only person in my world strong enough to walk through my anger with me - she had so much of her own anger that we would just end up being angry together - for a little while - then both of us being peace lovers at heart, we would walk peacefully for another little while.
Eventually I said to her, "You know we are both in the same boat. We should just accept it and get along with each other." " What do you mean?" she asked. I answered her. "Well, you would rather be living with your mother but you can't; I would rather be living with Keith but I can't.
So we should make the best of things and try to live together in peace." She thought it over and
decided we could both put more effort into that.
Our third anniversary comes up next week. We are both doing so much better. And we have both been so good for each other in spite of all the feuds.
You wonder sometimes if God really knows what He is doing; but I guess when you are looking at the Big Picture, you see so much more. If we trust, God will cause even the dry places in us to blossom.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Honor In Relationships
I just finished reading a wonderful post on Honor at Howlsatmoon.blogspot.com - it made me realize that is where my mind was trying to take me in my thoughts on Relationship for this post.
Identifying what I am not has always been easier for me than identifying what I am. Maybe that is why the temptation was always so great when a role ended, to immediately replace it with another.
I have been a bit of a martyr all my life - sacrificing my Self for the needs of others. It is not something I knowingly set out to do. It is something I started so early in my life that I had no awareness of doing it as an adult. It was just so much a part of me by that time.
My strongest memory of my father, whom I adored as much as you would adore any god, was of him sitting in an armchair, HURTING inside, and me standing there helplessly, not knowing how to help him. So I sacrificed my Self. I made it my business to know what he needed me to be, and I did my best to BE it.
There is no Honor in being untrue to yourself, even if you are mistakenly doing it out of love.
I needed someone to tell me the only Honor you can have in the world of relationships is to find a way to be there for people you care about without being unfaithful to yourself.
Interestingly enough, when the mind and the heart work together to find the answers to these dilemnas, the solution quite often brings out the BEST in both of you.
HONOR BEGETS HONOR!
Identifying what I am not has always been easier for me than identifying what I am. Maybe that is why the temptation was always so great when a role ended, to immediately replace it with another.
I have been a bit of a martyr all my life - sacrificing my Self for the needs of others. It is not something I knowingly set out to do. It is something I started so early in my life that I had no awareness of doing it as an adult. It was just so much a part of me by that time.
My strongest memory of my father, whom I adored as much as you would adore any god, was of him sitting in an armchair, HURTING inside, and me standing there helplessly, not knowing how to help him. So I sacrificed my Self. I made it my business to know what he needed me to be, and I did my best to BE it.
There is no Honor in being untrue to yourself, even if you are mistakenly doing it out of love.
I needed someone to tell me the only Honor you can have in the world of relationships is to find a way to be there for people you care about without being unfaithful to yourself.
Interestingly enough, when the mind and the heart work together to find the answers to these dilemnas, the solution quite often brings out the BEST in both of you.
HONOR BEGETS HONOR!
Monday, October 29, 2007
Remembering
The essence of finding meaning in the future
is not to forget my past, as I have been told,
but instead to embrace my past.
For it is in listening to the music of the past
that I can sing in the present
and dance into the future.
Author Unknown
I lovingly hold and embrace my past as I move into my future.
I commit myself to being as truthful as possible, with as much sensitivity as possible, both with my Self and with others.
is not to forget my past, as I have been told,
but instead to embrace my past.
For it is in listening to the music of the past
that I can sing in the present
and dance into the future.
Author Unknown
I lovingly hold and embrace my past as I move into my future.
I commit myself to being as truthful as possible, with as much sensitivity as possible, both with my Self and with others.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Learning To Love Myself
Of all the lessons in life, I have found learning to love myself the hardest.
Learning to love myself in spite of all the flaws that are still so much a part of me(and probably always will be) has been the biggest undertaking of my life. And it will probably take me the rest of my life to get even halfway there.
The tool I have found most useful in this undertaking is to observe myself without judgment. That harsh, critical voice that I always heard in my head prevented me from seeing the reasons behind the things I said and did that did not live up to my expectations of myself.
In the old days, I was more able to do what my Adapted Self demanded of me so I could convince myself I was nicer than I really was. But this Real Self - she won't have any of that. She forces me on the outside to be exactly what I am feeling on the inside while still trying to treat the people in my world respectfully and lovingly - tall order sometimes. Especially when you still have to face honestly how well you pulled it off.
It is getting easier though. Once I started observing without judgment, I was able to follow the threads of my reactions all the way back to the reasons behind my reactions. Once I was able to do that, I was more able to forgive myself and then had fewer reasons to forgive myself.
I find now that I am not betraying myself every time I turn around in hopes of earning somebody's approval, I am freer to enjoy being who I am - actually discovering who I am for the first time as I watch how I respond to the gifts Life brings my way.
It is a small first step in learning to love myself but I like the foundation I am building on which is more than I can say about myself in the past.
Learning to love myself in spite of all the flaws that are still so much a part of me(and probably always will be) has been the biggest undertaking of my life. And it will probably take me the rest of my life to get even halfway there.
The tool I have found most useful in this undertaking is to observe myself without judgment. That harsh, critical voice that I always heard in my head prevented me from seeing the reasons behind the things I said and did that did not live up to my expectations of myself.
In the old days, I was more able to do what my Adapted Self demanded of me so I could convince myself I was nicer than I really was. But this Real Self - she won't have any of that. She forces me on the outside to be exactly what I am feeling on the inside while still trying to treat the people in my world respectfully and lovingly - tall order sometimes. Especially when you still have to face honestly how well you pulled it off.
It is getting easier though. Once I started observing without judgment, I was able to follow the threads of my reactions all the way back to the reasons behind my reactions. Once I was able to do that, I was more able to forgive myself and then had fewer reasons to forgive myself.
I find now that I am not betraying myself every time I turn around in hopes of earning somebody's approval, I am freer to enjoy being who I am - actually discovering who I am for the first time as I watch how I respond to the gifts Life brings my way.
It is a small first step in learning to love myself but I like the foundation I am building on which is more than I can say about myself in the past.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
The Gift Of Love
My son and his wife have gone away for a week and I am babysitting their cat.
Now my son LOVES this cat; and this cat, who was once the runt of the litter, has responded to this love by growing huge. Now where I really ENJOY this cat, I don't love him the way my son does; and, of course, the cat feels the difference.
Thursday was day 5 and I could tell that the cat was really lonesome for his people and for his known way of life. He doesn't mind coming here for two or three days - rather enjoys the change for that long - but he has had enough - probably beginning to feel Abandoned.
All day Friday the cat, normally a very loving animal, kept biting my hand every chance he got. Although I could not allow him to get away with this behavior, I could EMPATHIZE with him.
I have been doing the same thing for the last six years, since my second husband died. I LOVED that man unconditionally. He was just so easy to love. He was gentleness personified - the first gentleness I had ever experienced in my life.
He had this way of encouraging me to be all I could be without ever using words - words were never his strong point - I always thought things through and chose my words carefully if I had to talk to him about something serious.
But the greatest gift of all that he had was the ability to enjoy himself fully, in the moment, no matter where he was or who he was with. It did not matter if he would rather be someplace else. It did not matter if he would rather be doing something else, or with somebody else. He just put all of himself into enjoying what he was doing and the people he was with; wherever he was.
And I LOVED that about him.
Joseph Campbell said that when we open to loving a person, whether that person is a spouse, a friend, or a child, we open our hearts to loving God. And when we let somebody love us, we're opening our hearts to God's love.
We are changed by love - whether we are doing the loving or allowing ourselves to be loved. I don't know - but it seems to take a lot of courage to allow yourself to be loved - I wonder if it makes us feel too vulnerable(?)
Now my son LOVES this cat; and this cat, who was once the runt of the litter, has responded to this love by growing huge. Now where I really ENJOY this cat, I don't love him the way my son does; and, of course, the cat feels the difference.
Thursday was day 5 and I could tell that the cat was really lonesome for his people and for his known way of life. He doesn't mind coming here for two or three days - rather enjoys the change for that long - but he has had enough - probably beginning to feel Abandoned.
All day Friday the cat, normally a very loving animal, kept biting my hand every chance he got. Although I could not allow him to get away with this behavior, I could EMPATHIZE with him.
I have been doing the same thing for the last six years, since my second husband died. I LOVED that man unconditionally. He was just so easy to love. He was gentleness personified - the first gentleness I had ever experienced in my life.
He had this way of encouraging me to be all I could be without ever using words - words were never his strong point - I always thought things through and chose my words carefully if I had to talk to him about something serious.
But the greatest gift of all that he had was the ability to enjoy himself fully, in the moment, no matter where he was or who he was with. It did not matter if he would rather be someplace else. It did not matter if he would rather be doing something else, or with somebody else. He just put all of himself into enjoying what he was doing and the people he was with; wherever he was.
And I LOVED that about him.
Joseph Campbell said that when we open to loving a person, whether that person is a spouse, a friend, or a child, we open our hearts to loving God. And when we let somebody love us, we're opening our hearts to God's love.
We are changed by love - whether we are doing the loving or allowing ourselves to be loved. I don't know - but it seems to take a lot of courage to allow yourself to be loved - I wonder if it makes us feel too vulnerable(?)
Friday, October 26, 2007
A Look At The Past
If you have been married more than once, I don't think you love one husband more than another, you just love them differently because you are capable of loving in a different way when you choose them.
I was very young when I got married the first time. I had been ready to leave home for a long time; I knew my needs were never going to be met there and I longed for children of my own.
In looking back, with wiser eyes, I realize that my heart was not very open at that time in my life. I was agonizingly shy, thought very little of myself and was really only capable of loving a child.
The man I married was full of rage which he expressed for both of us - the rage he consciously carried and the rage I had never got in touch with in myself. One thing I was though was a good listener and I think that is how we bonded - with him talking and me listening. After we were married, we laid awake long into the evenings - him talking - me listening. I never had much to say - not having any insight into myself.
We were both deeply devoted to the two children we brought into the world, even though we unintentionally wounded them through our personal issues that we had not even thought of dealing with.
Pain pushes us to grow by screaming at us louder and louder until we deal with it or be destroyed by it. I was burying myself in my children's needs - something I was really good at doing. My husband was burying himself in the bottle - and eventually it buried him.
I found Al-Anon a couple years before my husband died. My brother Wayne looked into it for me and then told me about it because he was worried about me. (And I have been extremely grateful ever since - everything good that I have in my life today is because of what I learned in that program.) The Al-Anon program helped me to cope with what was going on in my life at that time by giving me the tools to emotionally detach from my husband's behavior and still treat him with the love and respect he deserved as a human being. It also gave me the tools to start looking inside myself, own what was there, and start doing something about it.
Al-Anon is where I found my voice and started using it to protect myself, eventually to express myself, and maybe someday to ask directly for what I need and want from life.
I was very young when I got married the first time. I had been ready to leave home for a long time; I knew my needs were never going to be met there and I longed for children of my own.
In looking back, with wiser eyes, I realize that my heart was not very open at that time in my life. I was agonizingly shy, thought very little of myself and was really only capable of loving a child.
The man I married was full of rage which he expressed for both of us - the rage he consciously carried and the rage I had never got in touch with in myself. One thing I was though was a good listener and I think that is how we bonded - with him talking and me listening. After we were married, we laid awake long into the evenings - him talking - me listening. I never had much to say - not having any insight into myself.
We were both deeply devoted to the two children we brought into the world, even though we unintentionally wounded them through our personal issues that we had not even thought of dealing with.
Pain pushes us to grow by screaming at us louder and louder until we deal with it or be destroyed by it. I was burying myself in my children's needs - something I was really good at doing. My husband was burying himself in the bottle - and eventually it buried him.
I found Al-Anon a couple years before my husband died. My brother Wayne looked into it for me and then told me about it because he was worried about me. (And I have been extremely grateful ever since - everything good that I have in my life today is because of what I learned in that program.) The Al-Anon program helped me to cope with what was going on in my life at that time by giving me the tools to emotionally detach from my husband's behavior and still treat him with the love and respect he deserved as a human being. It also gave me the tools to start looking inside myself, own what was there, and start doing something about it.
Al-Anon is where I found my voice and started using it to protect myself, eventually to express myself, and maybe someday to ask directly for what I need and want from life.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Being Real
There is nothing wrong with trying to be all your partner needs you to be, so long as you are not being untrue to yourself in the process.
I have a life-long tendency to look at what the people in my world (the ones important to me) need me to be and then invest all of me into trying to be that.
But it appears to me now that once the True Self has become known to you, it refuses to take this lying down. If I even make a small attempt to try to be something I'm not, my True Self (thank God) very quickly sabotages my efforts so that I'm noticeably unsuccessful at it.
When I made my first journey to my Self, years ago, these words from Richard Bach (Illusions) helped me to remember what I needed to do to stay real:
"Like attracts like. Just be who you are, calm and clear and bright. Automatically, as we shine who we are, asking ourselves every minute is this what I really want to do, doing it only when we answer yes, automatically that turns away those who have nothing to learn from who we are and attracts those from whom we have to learn, as well."
I have a life-long tendency to look at what the people in my world (the ones important to me) need me to be and then invest all of me into trying to be that.
But it appears to me now that once the True Self has become known to you, it refuses to take this lying down. If I even make a small attempt to try to be something I'm not, my True Self (thank God) very quickly sabotages my efforts so that I'm noticeably unsuccessful at it.
When I made my first journey to my Self, years ago, these words from Richard Bach (Illusions) helped me to remember what I needed to do to stay real:
"Like attracts like. Just be who you are, calm and clear and bright. Automatically, as we shine who we are, asking ourselves every minute is this what I really want to do, doing it only when we answer yes, automatically that turns away those who have nothing to learn from who we are and attracts those from whom we have to learn, as well."
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Shame
I have lived with shame since I was 7 years old.
I broke the unspoken rule in our home and reached out for a physical expression of love.
My father's cousin came to visit and I was running through the house with my brothers and sisters. Every time I ran to the kitchen, I got to run into his open arms and receive a hug. I still recall the innocent delight I took in the freedom I felt.
He invited me to go for a ride to the store with him and, with my mother's permission, I went. He stopped and bought me some candy and then took me to a deserted spot and sexually molested me.
I returned home filled with such shame, I couldn't look anybody in the eyes. I always felt separate from other children after that, different from them. I had lost my innocence.
That shame became incorporated into my Being. It would be thirty years before I would tell even one person the shameful secret I carried.
To this day it gets in my way of giving and receiving affection. That one-time incident puts me "on guard" in every interaction with other people.
It shows up even in my heightened need to be in control of what's happening around me.
It shows up in feeling more comfortable when it's me initiating the hug or at least being aware that it is going to happen so I can prepare myself.
It shows up in having to have my route all mapped out before going anywhere, and having to know in advance any changes to the plans.
It shows up in my heightened anxiety in new surroundings or with new people.
It shows up when I sternly reprimand my daughter, niece, granddaughters for wearing clothing that reveals their beautiful young bodies.
It shows up in my need to bury my feminine body under pounds of flesh disguising it so it will not be found inviting.
It shows up in my need to do my welcoming in my kitchen and at my table where it is much safer to connect with people.
It shows up in my feeling vulnerable in church - not worthy.
It shows up in me having too much body shame to fully integrate my spirit with it.
It shows up in me watching my boss' beautiful secretary blush as a delivery man becomes tongue-tied in her presence, and I think to myself what a handicap physical beauty is in this world.
Having said all that, I feel compelled to add that I consider myself fortunate. If my life was impacted that much by a one-time abusive incident from a distant relative, how much more difficult is it for children coping with repeated abuses not only from someone in their home but the very someone who is supposed to be their PROTECTOR.
I broke the unspoken rule in our home and reached out for a physical expression of love.
My father's cousin came to visit and I was running through the house with my brothers and sisters. Every time I ran to the kitchen, I got to run into his open arms and receive a hug. I still recall the innocent delight I took in the freedom I felt.
He invited me to go for a ride to the store with him and, with my mother's permission, I went. He stopped and bought me some candy and then took me to a deserted spot and sexually molested me.
I returned home filled with such shame, I couldn't look anybody in the eyes. I always felt separate from other children after that, different from them. I had lost my innocence.
That shame became incorporated into my Being. It would be thirty years before I would tell even one person the shameful secret I carried.
To this day it gets in my way of giving and receiving affection. That one-time incident puts me "on guard" in every interaction with other people.
It shows up even in my heightened need to be in control of what's happening around me.
It shows up in feeling more comfortable when it's me initiating the hug or at least being aware that it is going to happen so I can prepare myself.
It shows up in having to have my route all mapped out before going anywhere, and having to know in advance any changes to the plans.
It shows up in my heightened anxiety in new surroundings or with new people.
It shows up when I sternly reprimand my daughter, niece, granddaughters for wearing clothing that reveals their beautiful young bodies.
It shows up in my need to bury my feminine body under pounds of flesh disguising it so it will not be found inviting.
It shows up in my need to do my welcoming in my kitchen and at my table where it is much safer to connect with people.
It shows up in my feeling vulnerable in church - not worthy.
It shows up in me having too much body shame to fully integrate my spirit with it.
It shows up in me watching my boss' beautiful secretary blush as a delivery man becomes tongue-tied in her presence, and I think to myself what a handicap physical beauty is in this world.
Having said all that, I feel compelled to add that I consider myself fortunate. If my life was impacted that much by a one-time abusive incident from a distant relative, how much more difficult is it for children coping with repeated abuses not only from someone in their home but the very someone who is supposed to be their PROTECTOR.
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