Sunday, May 31, 2015

Who ARE These Little People Anyway??


You live with them every day. Their little face are probably one of the first things you see in the morning and the last things you gaze upon before bed. You gave birth to them for God sake! They lived inside of your body for nine months...they are a part of you, literally. And still, you have to really look at them and pay close attention to know who they are.

I've been thinking about this a lot since writing The Gift a week or so ago. Looking at each of my little dudes and remembering that each of these beings were born with a gift too. That these boys of mine are souls living inside skin and bone, just like me. Underneath the messy hair, dirty nails, and self imposed magic marker body art, they are who they are meant to be. And I am supposed to help guide them to that authentic person. I am supposed to encourage the journey, to support and cheer lead, to redirect and protect. Oh my fricken Lord! I think I need to breath into a brown paper bag because I am hyperventilating.

Sometimes it's easy to forget THIS part of parenting. I mean, we stay so breathless and busy with the feeding, bathing, helping with homework, trying to keep them engaged in sports and music so they don't become even more addicted to watching Pat and Jen Mine Craft videos on You Tube. Always working to keep them safe and healthy and ALIVE. WTF? I totally forgot I was supposed to be helping them uncover their true selves. To be continuously watching with a keen Mom eye to see what new thing light's their fire and brings that amazing, uncensored, completely from the heart smile to their faces. To notice those things that they are just uncannily good at, and not just because they are smart or athletic or are trying really hard, but because they can't help but to be good at it because they were made to be good at it.

So, as this epiphany of my huge mom neglect hits me in the face, I start searching my memory (oh shit, now I'm really in trouble because I have NO memory). What have I missed in the ciaos of our day to day? What hints and clues did these little souls leave their poor struggling mother to help me to help them? Something...anything...come on guys, help your Mamma out here!

My breathing starts to settle and heart starts to slow down as I think of each of my boys. Picturing their sweet faces, both with huge eyes and lovely puffy lips. Both of them so different from one another in personality and temperament. Total Yin and Yang. Oh, thank God, I do have a memory, and I do have that motherly instinct that has noticed some things about each of my mini men that points me towards who they are. As I roll around the thoughts in my mind I remember more and more. Oh there have been so many clues. Thank you boys!

As I have grown and stretched over these last couple of months, it has brought so much change in perspective. Realization about who I am, who we all are. Like a veil was lifted and suddenly I was reminded of a distant deep memory. Not a memory from this life...a memory from my soul, from the One who created my soul.  I've said it before and I'll keep saying it. We are all here for a reason. We all have something special that matters to the world we live in and the people we encounter. My boys have something extraordinary inside of them. They have a fire that burns for something in particular, they have to feel that fire, and love that fire, and share that fire.

 I am a Mamma on fire. I will be their model. I will love them for who they are. I will be there to help them discover and cultivate their gift. I will remind them when they forget or feel burdened by what society thinks they need to be. I will not try to cram them into a neat little box. I will resist the tremendous urge to protect them at all costs, to help them fit in so they don't stand out. I will not remind him that he must where matching socks just because I'm worried some kid at school will call him weird. I will not stifle his natural tendencies towards sensitivity because I am concerned people will think he is a wimp. I will not tell him to stay quiet about things he feels strongly about because I am frightened he will rock the boat. I will be excited to hear about the super cool rock he found, or song he heard, or drawing he made, or math problem he solved, or book he read, or invention he created, or....whatever.

Whatever excites him, will excite me. I will fan the flame and stoke the fire, every day.






Saturday, May 23, 2015

Freedom (que William Wallace screaming)

Remember Brave Heart? William Wallace on his horse, blue painted face, fro-ed out hair, crazy eyes....Frrreeeeedooom!! He was not going down. He was pumped up and ready to fight to the death for his freedom. Of course that is exactly what happened, he died a painful awful disgusting death, but that isn't my point. It's that moment, when you can feel his gnarly desperation for freedom.

Have you ever felt it? That suffocating, like, "I can't breath in here" feeling? Like if you looked in the mirror in that moment you would probably be blue faced and crazy eyed just like William Wallace, cause you can't get any air. It's the feeling of being caged. The feeling of your soul being held in by the shell of your body. Like it just needs to BUST out already. It's tired of being suffocated under all that flesh and bone. But it's not really the body that's keeping it caged, it's you.

I think this superficial world we live in makes us think it is really difficult to break free. Like we are trapped and there is nothing we can do about it. It is what it is, the world we live in. But really, the door to the cage isn't even locked. If you weren't afraid of what everyone else would think of you, you could wiggle right out of those chains and break free.

It's not all that easy peasy though. I mean even though the door isn't locked it is a pretty narrow door. You could get a little scratched and scrapped squeezing through. You might bruise yourself a bit twisting free from the chains. You might even need to leave something behind so you can make it through the door. It could be a little scary. "What's on the other side of the door, outside of my cage? Is it actually safer in here? It is kind of cozy...maybe it's not so bad...I could get used to this no air thing if I had to." But you know that's not true. If you don't make a break for it you're dead meat. So you close your eyes, take a breath, make the sign of the cross and go...and then...you're out...and naked as a new born baby.

"Awwhhhh, it feels so good to be free! This is what life is. This is who I am. I've always known I was in there, but it was so hard to see me, or feel me, under all of the stuff the world pretends is important." Awwwhhh, you close your eyes and breath that new life giving crisp sweet air. "Wow, I am so glad I made it through that door. I never could have imagined what life was like outside." You want to shout to your friends...the ones still in their cages..."You guys, come out!  Seriously, it's awesome. No one is weirded out by it, and even if they are, who cares. You are finally who you are meant to be. Take a deep breath and do it! Join me!"

Freedom is not a myth. Freedom is what we are meant to live in. Freedom feels so good. Be who you are friends. Be who you are under all of the stuff. That is who God made you to be. He wants you to live free. Free of fear, of worry, of self imposed stifling and criticism. Free to love yourself, love your people, love your neighbor. Free to enjoy this fleeting life.

FREEEEDDOOOMM!





Wednesday, May 20, 2015

The Gift

Okay, so let's get a few things straight. We are all works in progress. We are all a little battered and a little bruised. We all have strengths and weaknesses.  We all are a soul inside of  a body. INSIDE that body, where you find the soul, THAT is who you are.

Some of us live in this world and completely forget about our soul, our being. We think we are our skin and bones and minds. We think we are the jobs that we do everyday. We think we are the demographic that we fall into. We think we are limited.

We are only limited by our own fears. We are limited when we let the discomfort of growing pains hinder us from changing and stretching. We all, every single person in this entire world, have something that is meant to be shared. A gift inside of us that only we have. Sure, there are variations of the same gifts, lots of people with similar talents, but your gift, inside your soul, is one of a kind, made only for you. Because if you are brave enough, if you are strong enough to let it out and share your gift, you will change the world.


I'm not being idealistic by saying that. Changing the world doesn't necessarily have to be this HUGE world peace, end hunger and global warming, no more war, poverty or sickness thing. It can be little things. Brightening some one's day, helping some one think in a different way and expanding their horizons, letting people know they are not alone. It could be the way you work hard and get the job done right. It could be the way you think about things over and over again until you have just the right perspective or how you instinctually have the best perspective right from the start. It could be as simple as your smile, your knack for conversation, your patience or compassion. You might be a gifted teacher, or artist or mentor. There are soooo many things it could be. And honestly, I don't know that you have to be extraordinarily awesome at whatever your gift is. Like, just because it's your gift doesn't mean you have to win an Oscar or a Nobel Prize or something for it. I think you just need to feel it and know it and SHARE it.

It is often through struggle that we actually find our gift. I mean really..it's not like you are born knowing what it is. Most of us wander, trying to figure out what we are good at, what we enjoy doing, what works for us. But we are usually looking in the wrong places and with the wrong parts of ourselves. We aren't looking for the things that spark a fire inside. We aren't looking for things that are almost impossible not to do because there is something inside that just makes you neeeeed to do it. We aren't looking with our souls. We are usually looking with a goal in mind. What am I good at that I can do for a living and make money at, that won't leave me miserable? What strengths do I have and in what areas? I don't believe that is where we find our gift.

Our gift is hidden. Only to be found when you are ready and willing to pull it out and say "Hey world, look what I found, it's for all of us!" When you are ready to face the challenges that sharing your gift with the world will inevitably bring. The naysayers, the sceptics, the possible discomfort you will bring to some who themselves need to stretch and grow. Your gift might make them feel something that they don't want to feel.  And it should! Once you get a glimpse of your gift, the smallest little inkling, you won't be able to deny it. It will build inside like a volcano about to erupt with the most spectacular magical lava. It will ooze from every part of you because it has to.

I don't do censoring here, I don't change what I feel or the way I say things to make it okay for you to hear, to make it less uncomfortable for you to digest, because that would not be sharing my gift. I have to say it the way I see it and experience it.  I know there is someone that needs to read it and that these words can touch them inside. Maybe, just maybe, my gift can help someone else find their own.




Monday, May 18, 2015

Soul Sistas

Hey sista, go sista, soul sista, flow sista.....



I have one, a soul sista, she is awesomesauce. There is no one quite like her in my life, and she is a treasure to me. We live 3000 miles apart and haven't seen each other in something like 11 years. That sucks.

Most of us have a BFF right? Some of us have several.I am blessed to have a little group of very close friends that don't live 3000 miles away. I love them, for the most part we all "get each other". We encourage each other, we go to dinner occasionally for Girl's Night Out and drink wine. We support each other through the tough times in parenting or marriage or just try to cheer one another up if some one's having a crappy day. We make each other laugh. It's good stuff and I'm grateful for my birds of a feather.

But my bestie is my bestie. There is no other.We are separated by thousands of miles but still close enough to feel each other's moods and speak to each other telepathically. Okay, so I'm kind of exaggerating, but you know what I mean. It feels like that sometimes. She is kind of like a part of me. She sometimes reminds me of who I am when I forget (I told you I have a terrible memory). She knows when I'm hiding something (even from myself). She knows when I'm pretending to be strong. She can always tell when I'm anxious about something without me even saying it. She understands the weird shit I worry about, the dreams I have deep inside, the old and the new, she is my soul sista.

She seriously makes me laugh just by changing the inflection of her voice, because although I can't see her on the other end of the phone, I absolutely, without a doubt, know the facial expression she is making at that moment. We weren't sandboxers, didn't meet until our freshman year in high school. But when we did, it was like we had known each other forever. Like her heart and my heart had known each other a very long time. And, that was it. Friends till the end. Thelma and Lousie. Laverne and Shirley. She could make me laugh to the point of peeing on a daily basis. Literally..the two of us walking down the hall in high school. She, about 6 inches taller than me. She is likely wearing my favorite brown suede shoes (stretching them out just a bit) and I her favorite blue and white striped "Papa Don't Preach" tee shirt (even though we weren't exactly the same size we still shared). We're probably joking about something that only the two of us know about, or maybe a few others, or at the time (even though we are much more compassionate and mature now), we might have been snickering about some one's outfit or what a fool they made of themselves the weekend before. She would make some crazy animated face or say something to me in a weird voice and I would have to sit on the ground, arms wrapped around my legs, in the middle of the hall, so I wouldn't pee my pants.

So much has changed over the years. Both of us have grown up (mostly), become dedicated wives and doting mothers, decided which path we were going to take in life. We've gotten older, a little fatter, not quite as outrageous as we once were. But inside, it's still us. Same ol' crazy chicks. Same ol' dreamers. Sisters in the truest sense. If I believed in past lives I would say we've probably been doing life together for centuries.

Shout out to my soul sista!


Friday, May 15, 2015

I Must Be a Mermaid

"I must be a mermaid.  I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living" ~ Anais Nin

Oh Anais, you hit the nail on the head!  I always knew I was a mermaid, and this quote just confirmed it.  As a young girl I would pretend that I was a mermaid...lots of little girls do I'm sure.  I would dream of swimming through a clear blue ocean, little fish and sea turtles moving effortlessly beside me.  My long golden brown hair trailing behind me.  My tail glistening as the sun peeked through the water.  Of course, as I got older, those fantasies faded.  But I have always found strength and solace in the ocean.  That soul cleansing smell, the mind soothing sounds, the great vastness, strength and beauty, the mystery and lore.  Everything about the ocean has always been my most favorite of God's creations.

The ocean heals.  Physically, mentally, spiritually.  As the waves pull in and out, tumble and crash so does your soul if you let it.  The water washes away the stress and frustration of living in this broken shallow world.  I realize now, that is part of the beauty, part of why my soul longs for the ocean and feels complete when it's near.  The depth.  The depth reminds me. I have depth, I have a soul that craves meaning and purpose.  We all do. We just ignore it.

Our lives, the day to day, are so often focused on the "things" of the world.  Not the beauty, not the awe of it all, not togetherness, not why we are here or what we are meant for, not the stirrings of our souls.  The things...the to do lists, the work and commitments, what we need to accomplish.  Spare moments get filled following the news about your favorite celebrity, pinning your dream wardrobe or all of the cool home decor you will buy someday. Mindless, soul-less, nothingness.

It's time.  It is time for all of us that feel it, and know it deep inside, to make a change.  To say it out loud..."this is not what life is supposed to be, this is not enough!"  I will listen.  I will listen to the little girl inside, to the spirit that God gave me. The one who felt the stirring in her soul for as long as she can remember.  Although I live in this world, I do not have to "be" of this world.  I will be who I was meant to be, because I was meant to be her for a reason.  I have something, and you do too, that is supposed to be shared with this world we live in, to better it.  To remind it, that there is MORE.

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

To Have and To Hold

Today is year 14.  I married my hubby 14 years ago today.  We had a gorgeous wedding. I had a spectacular dress that I co-designed and was hand made by a costume designer. It was outside at this lovely and charming old Victorian.  We had a guy playing bagpipes, and enjoyed yummy food, and danced and toasted and all that stuff you do at weddings.  I remember it pretty well, which is amazeballs since I can't remember what we did two days ago (that's a blog post for another day....how being a busy Mom makes you become an amnesiac).

We had already been together a long time before we married.  We shacked up for about 6 years before we finally said "I do".  We had already gone through "the honeymoon stage" before we even walked down the aisle.  We knew each other well. We already knew how to share and play nice with one another.  We had been through a lot (or so we thought).  We had this marriage thing in the bag.

Okay, so maybe not in the bag.  Relationships, and the people in them, can take a beating sometimes. Relationships that are going to stand solid in the face of adversity, have to face some adversity to learn to stand strong. Excepting one another for who and what you are.  Woaaaw, that's a toughie sometimes.  Opposites attract ya know?  That is a proven fact. Those things that were different, mysterious and intriguing about your special someone, often become those things that drive you batty.   The people that make up the couple grow and change as individuals.  The relationship has to stretch and change too.  Sometimes one of you is in metamorphosis.  All the sudden one of you is different, and things have to adjust. Sometimes one of you gets lost, lost in their own head, and the other one has to wait it out and gently guide them back.

Marriage takes work to work.  It takes action.  Sitting on your butt hoping things will work out and you'll be happy isn't gonna cut it in this business (sorry, I know that blows all of the ideals out of the water.  But if you enjoy my blog it's probably not for the sugar coating). Sweeping things under the rug is a fricken trip hazard. There will be times you want to quit, throw in the damn towel, fed up to your core.  There will be times it's easy, you're enjoying one another, smiling a lot, and the tough times seem like a really long time ago. What were you disagreeing about anyway?  He's so cute, why were you mad?

I can tell you this though, I love him more now then I did then.  When a genuine smile spreads across his face it touches my heart like never before.  When I REALLY see him, it's just as exciting as all of those years ago, if not more. Because we have worked to be here. Because really, we all go through life not necessarily being who we are inside as frequently as we should, even with our partners.  That center that is our essence, very rarely makes an appearance.  We're so busy with life, and most find it hard to be vulnerable enough.  Believe it or not, I have a hugely difficult time being vulnerable. It causes problems. I put up walls and shut people out faster than you can blink. Luckily, he knows that, he can remind me that I'm "shutting down and out" and try to adjust his approach. The advantage of being together for as long as we have is we've had a lot more opportunities to catch those times, when one of us is revealing their true self. And those times, keep you going. Those times help you to create a little treasure box of these supernatural soul touching moments.

I'm so grateful for Hubby.  For all of the years we have shared, the fabulous and the not so fabulous. For all we have learned together.  For our little family.  Even for the adversity we have faced. Marriage is work, but it is work worth doing. <3




Sunday, May 10, 2015

Run Forest Run


I would by no means call myself a runner. But I run. I run like my life depends on it, because I kinda think it does. I am not graceful, or fast. I can't run really far compared to some, and can not run up hills. But I run. I run because it's FREEDOM. I run because it kinda hurts but that feels right. I run because it feels like running away, and that feels good. I run because I can be all alone, I can turn my music as loud as it can go (which is never loud enough to fill every space I want it to), and I can push myself, clear my head, LET IT OUT. With every huff and puff I can let it out.

 I resisted running for a long time, knowing I wouldn't be great at it. I've never really taken things on, or added them to my repertoire, unless I knew I would be great at them. Maybe it's because I'm a first born, Scorpio, perfectionist, Type A nut ball? I was never really one to try stuff and give myself time to learn it and grow. I was either good at it or I wasn't...and if I wasn't good at it...I wasn't doin' it and you couldn't make me. I've never been an athlete.  I've never really liked running. I knew I wasn't going to step outside in my new Nike running shoes and visor and run like the wind. So I didn't do it.

But then there came a time...I would try anything. Anything for some relief, for an escape, for some time for just me and the girl inside. I didn't reeeallly want to become a wino, or start smoking again. (Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy Mamma's grape juice but didn't want to use it as a vice or an escape, as easy as that would be). I wasn't reeaallly gonna run away. I truly do love my man tribe, and even miss them when I'm away for too long. But I was going to implode if I didn't find some small thing to ease the pent up frustration. I had a couple of friends that had started running in the last couple of years. They seemed so relaxed. Like they had a new perspective on life as a mom and wife. Not to mention, they looked GOOD. This Mamma isn't getting any younger. It wouldn't be a bad thing to get some exercise and start toning this body up. Before long it would be too late and my butt cheeks would be down to the back of my knees.

So, I did it. I got myself some new snazzy shoes, downloaded a running app onto my phone, and went running. Well, it was kind of running, then walking, then running, then dying. It was hard. I couldn't breath and my feet felt like cement blocks. I sucked. My usual self would've given up the first day realizing I was a disaster, I wasn't good at this. But I refused. I kept doing it. I can only imagine what people thought as they drove by me. Running so slow it was barely more than walking. But I kept going.

I fought my natural tendencies to quit and I learned something. I learned something HUGE and it only took me almost 40 years on this earth to learn it. I don't have to be great at something to do it. I can look like a huffing and puffing, out of shape, midlife crisis mom runner to the rest of the world, and I can still keep going. I don't have to quit.  It 's time for me to learn to do what feels good inside. To do things that keep me alive, that make me feel strong. That help me to clear my head and to adjust my perspective. Sometimes I leave the house, music already blaring (probably Prince), and I am on a mission. A mission to release the anger I feel toward my kids for giving me such heartache over homework and not hearing a word I say. To release the frustration I feel about there being too much laundry all the time and not enough food in the fridge. To release the loneliness that creeps in because I'm the only female in house so filled to the brim with testosterone.

So I run. I run away. And as I round the corner, back to my little house at the end of the cul de sac, I am home, back to where I belong. I always come back. I always will.  <3


Thursday, May 7, 2015

I Fell for a Vampire

Eight years after everyone else in the world, I picked up Twilight.  I never did see the movies or read the books when they first came out. I was in the smack dab middle of the day to day mothering of two toddler boys at that time.  I wasn't reading anything besides Good Night Moon and was probably watching Wonder Pets on a continual loop. But now, with the girl inside starting to get restless, I figured a good book would do me some good.  I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

I couldn't stop reading! After a long day of work, and running kids around, I'd get them to bed and start reading.  Laying in bed next to Hubby reading by the light of my iphone until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, completely loosing myself in this far away place. This world with vampires and mystery, and bat shit crazy head over heels heart stopping love.  I became a bit obsessed with it. I moved on to the next book in the series and in just days. Bringing the book in the car so I could squeeze 10 minutes in sitting outside the school before I grabbed the kids.  All I could think about was Edward and Bella.  I sent this text to my BFF...


After I completed the second book, I had to wait for the third to arrive in the mail.  I didn't have it handy to immerse myself in.  I had to get back to reality.  It took a couple of days to wake up from the fairy tale induced trance.  When I did, I was surprised at what I felt. Confused, a little sad, very restless, slightly melancholy about life.  I had been part of this passionate, surprising, intense world for the last week, in my head anyway.  And here I was, back to the same ol'...regular, unexciting, very busy life.  But now that I didn't have a book in my hand, and I was on a new sleep schedule thanks to the reading until midnight thing, I had time to think after I got the kids to bed each night.

I wasn't obsessed with Edward and Bella, I was envious of their existence.  Of the way her heart would stop when he touched her.  Of the way they memorized each others faces every chance they got.  Of the way they were discovering new things about each other all the time and loving every minute of it. It was all about them, their desires.  My life is not all about me and my hubby.  It is not a dark and mysterious, breathtaking existence that we live together.  It's real life. It's work hard and play not as hard.  It's conversations on how to handle kid problems and what the schedule looks like for the month.  It's knowing we need to make more time to enjoy our life, but really never doing it.

But you know what?  It is REAL.  It is life, and we are doing it together. No, I don't fly through ominous dense forests on my vampire husband's back.  No we don't stare at each other for hours just because.  No my heart does not stop when he touches me.  But it does flutter a little sometimes. We try to remember to do little things for one another to let the other one know "I love you babe".  We hug each other tight when the other one wants to break down because of the kids last tantrum or the unplanned tax bill. We BBQ and drink wine and beer and enjoy each other's company on the weekends. We go on family hikes and to the beach.  We DO life together.  We love one another, and can even still turn each other on now and then. Life is not a fairy tale. Marriages die and families are torn apart every day because someone can't deal anymore.  Someone thinks the fairy tale is real, and wondering why they don't have that.  They don't want to remember what drew them to their partner, what initially excited, attracted and interested them.  They give up.  I have several friends who have followed that path.  None of them found what they thought they would.  None of them found the fairy tale.

Stop wondering and start living the life you have, the best way you can.  Love the people in your life with all of your heart. Show them with your real life actions.  Love yourself.  Be grateful life isn't a fairy tale...not all vampires are like Edward!

White Collar, Blue Collar, No Collar and Rainbows

Survivor, we watch it on Wednesday nights.  All huddled up on the brown leather couch, each of us with our favorite player.  This season they started the game with three groups: White Collar, Blue Collar, and No Collar.  So White Collar are the business minded people, the entrepreneurs, the financial planners, the talent agents.  Blue Collar, obvious right?... the fireman, teacher, construction worker. Then there is No Collar.  The wanderers, the artists and jewelry makers, the guy who sells coconuts on the beach.  So first you basically pick a side right?  Which group do you relate to most? Where would you fit in if you were there?

Well that was confusing to me.  I mean we have so many sides to us don't we?  What we do for a living, is a part of who we are, but is it reeeaaallly who we are?  Most people would probably look at me and think maybe White Collar.  I spent over 10 years in  banking, a few years in mortgage lending, office management, blah blah blah.  I am super efficient with my time and resources.  I am organizer extraorrdinaire.  I take it in, see what the goal is and the most efficient way to make it happen, then I pull the trigger.

But do I see myself as a White Collar?  I was so drawn to the No Collars.  They were so happy!  They let things roll off their backs like a duck in water. They did things (outside of the game) that made them feel alive inside.  And they were winning.  Challenge after challenge, killin' it!  Hmmm maybe there is something to this No Collar way of life.  This laissez-faire, do what feels good, follow your passion thing. I mean I do love writing, and painting, and find joy in making things. Yes, that is it, I MUST be No Collar hiding in a White Collar world.

I think all of the No Collars have been voted out at this point.  White Collar's and Blue Collar's left to battle it out.  So get's me thinking again (I know...I think way too much).  I am all of those groups, all mixed together.  We all are.  We aren't white, or blue, or....clear?  We are rainbow!!  We have so many sides to who we really are, inside.  Some of those parts are strong and bright and cheerful like the red, orange, and yellow parts of the rainbow.  Some are carefree and mellow like the green and blue.  Some are deep, maybe sometimes a little dark like the indigo and violet.

The journey is to learn about all of those beautiful colors inside ourselves.  To embrace each one with it's own strengths and sparkle.  To be grateful that we aren't just one thing, that we have endless color combinations inside of us all the time. And remember this...rainbows come AFTER the rain.  They are like a spectacular, colorful, magical prize, full of hope and wonder.

The journey is to embrace YOUR rainbow <3


Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Making Waves

I thought she died!  I was taking a nice hot shower just a bit ago, after giving myself my DIY home highlights (caramel kisses).  I was in the middle of lather, rinse, repeat when it hit me...I hadn't heard from the girl all day.  Oh no, crud...come to think of it, I think last I heard from her was day before yesterday!  I didn't feel her die, I assured myself. Wouldn't I have had some kind of sharp pain or fainted or something?  I stand there wondering for a minute, hot water rinsing out the bluish purple dye I just hand painted exactly 30 minutes earlier.Then I remembered, sweet girl didn't die.  This is exactly what happens every time I hear from her in a LOUD and clear way.  She jolts me out of my usual mode of dazed and confused, gets me all worked up and dramatic, and then fades back into the back of my mind.

Hmmm, what can I do differently this time?  I mean, how can I keep her towards the front and not in the shadows.  Her message is important.  It deserves more of a stage then the dusty ol' back corner. It's like anything, ya know? As time goes on it all gets less intense.  But I want to keep the flame alive.  I know that means doing things for me.  Things that excite me.  Things that I enjoy. Things that make that girl inside do cartwheels. And instantly, as wonderful and dreamy as that all sounds...WHAM.. the former Catholic/mom/wife guilt hit.  "I'm already gone so much.  Will he be upset if I tell him I want to try a Yoga class once a week when the evenings are usually my thing with the kids?  Will they whine and make me feel bad when I leave for an hour, telling me they miss me and why do I have to go?  Will they think I don't care about them as much as I care about myself? Do I really neeeeeed to leave to enjoy some time, can't I find some peace at home?"

The struggle continues.  Don't get me wrong, everything in life isn't a struggle. And yes, a lot of us are blessed beyond belief with beautiful families, and homes, and health. Most of us were able to make our families a meal consisting of all of the food groups tonight. Most of us will enjoy a warm bed, a story and snuggles at bedtime tonight. But the struggle still feels real. And it's mostly the way we struggle against ourselves. We are so damn complicated aren't we?  Broken people living in a broken world. We put so much pressure on ourselves.  We expect so damn much from ourselves. We run ourselves to the ground trying to do it all, not wanting to put anyone else out, not wanting to cause any waves.

Guess what?  It's time to make waves!! Waves of change. Fabulous, exciting, healing, joyful, INSPIRING change.

Monday, May 4, 2015

The Struggle is Real, Girlfriends

So you finally take notice of her, the girl that has been whispering sweet nothings in your head and trying to get your attention for Lord knows how long.  You acknowledge her, "Yes girl, I hear you. Please know I haven't forgotten you, well, not completely.  I promise, I'll give you some attention really really soon, just hold on a little longer. Keep breathing, keep reaching, it won't be long now!" You go on with your day, your life, doing all the things you do that take up your every minute. Wake up, get kids ready for school, go to work, pick up kids from school, take them to practice, squeeze in a quick stop at the store,  make dinner, clean up dinner, baths, homework, laundry, bed...exhausted. "Sorry girl, I am just too tired tonight sweetie.  I know you are waiting, thanks for your patience".

Wow!  Dude, how does the poor girl keep holding on?  She is grasping on by the tips of her fingers, crying out to you, her face almost covered by the damp grey quicksand, her voice small and tired.  Ya know something?  She is a damn rock star!  I would be so over it if I were her.  I would've said "I am too busy to keep on waiting patiently.  I've tried to be nice.  I've tried to help you. You can just go on and live a boring, mundane, passionless life.  I'm out!" Oh sweet, tireless girl, how I love you!

So now, the struggle, how do I work her in to the schedule?  How do I make time for the girl who means so much to me and wants so much to be part of my life? What do I cut out, or push on to someone else?  Who gets less of me? Am I strong enough to do it?  To say "no, I can't do that" when I need to....to put her in front, or at least, towards the front.

She needs me. No, I need her.


Sunday, May 3, 2015

Where Did She Go?

Have you ever felt it? That gnawing feeling in your soul. That sudden and urgent feeling that there is a part of you that is dying. "Where is this coming from?" you ask yourself frantically. "What have I done wrong to bring this about?" "Is this really me...my spirit trying to reach out to me...or am I finally loosing my shit?" I feel it, and have felt it several times over the past ten years, but this time, it's back with a mission, a vengeance. It's been ignored and stifled too many times. It's been locked away to be dealt with at some later date, when it's more convenient, when the kids are bigger, when I have time to think about things and feel things big and deep again.

That's what happens ya know? You find a man and get married and become "his wife". Then your dreams come true and you have a baby, or two, and you become "the mom". You might work outside of the home, you're "the employee". You are the room mom, the personal shopper, the taxi driver, the coach, the nurse, the housekeeper, the lover. In the midst of it all sometimes, you hear her. A little voice whispering to you..."Hey girl....you..sexy, silly, passionate, strong, fun girl...where are you? I've been looking for you girl...hello?? Are you there?" You feel that gnawing feeling again, you get restless. You do something to try to appease her....buy some new shoes, redo a room in the house, get your hair done. Something small and insignificant to try to fight of the feeling that something is missing. To put it off a little longer, so you can keep doing all the things you need to do and be all the things you need to be. You have shit to get done and not enough time in the day for this nonsense. 


We loose ourselves don't we? In all that we need to be, or think we need to be. We forget there is a fire inside for anything other than our spouse and our kids. There are needs and desires of the soul that can't be suffocated. There are parts of all of us that want to breath. They want to burn bright and fill us with passion and wonder and excitement. They are alive, barely, but they are. Holding on tight, begging us to notice them, to not let them die. Like a hand reaching, stretching out with all of it's might from deep grey quicksand..a girl below, trying to breath, to reach, to live.