An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

As children we dream of what our life is going to be like. We have hopes and goals, whimsies and wishes. We put stock in the future, somehow believing. For some reason, there are days where I am alright with the fact that my life didn't even come close to what I had envision. I had desired, more than anything, an intact family that loved and lived and failed and won but stuck together through it all. Life throws those curve balls and we roll with it, right? We make the best of it, our attitude being everything.  Other days, like today, it feels as if the curve ball struck me straight in the head, knocked me to the ground and I am finding it hard to breathe. One more time, like a silly idiot, I wish my mom was here to hold me and tell me it will be alright. It's OK. Tomorrow will be a lot better. Good to not say too much or make any decisions when this dark cloud comes. What I'd really like to do is take a long nap in my old bedroom on the ground floor of my ho

Yesterday was an interesting day. Being completely without a bathroom has taken its toll on my mental health to be sure. First world problem, I know, but I use a tub like some use alcohol.....to drown the worries of my day and wash off the nasty build up this world can pile on top. It is not uncommon for me to take an hour or more with math puzzles or a good book and a dose of very hot water and be able to emerge feeling like a new woman.  BIG meltdown yesterday....wasn't pretty....not proud. Pulled it together, with the help of the Boy Scout and had a great game of golf with a good friend. It was bloody hot while we walked the first 9 holes, so we grabbed a cart the second half. Left the course near dark feeling happy, tired and extremely dirty. Hooked up a hose (duct tape saves the day once again) to the sink in the garage and took a warm shower on the back patio after golf. Desperate means call for desperate measures. Turned out to be a sweet evening showering in t

A Journey Nikki Giovanni ,  1943 It’s a journey . . . that I propose . . . I am not the guide . . . nor technical assistant . . . I will be your fellow passenger . . . Though the rail has been ridden . . . winter clouds cover . . . autumn’s exuberant quilt . . . we must provide our own guide-posts . . . I have heard . . . from previous visitors . . . the road washes out sometimes . . . and passengers are compelled . . . to continue groping . . . or turn back . . . I am not afraid . . . I am not afraid . . . of rough spots . . . or lonely times . . . I don’t fear . . . the success of this endeavor . . . I am Ra . . . in a space . . . not to be discovered . . . but invented . . . I promise you nothing . . . I accept your promise . . . of the same we are simply riding . . . a wave . . . that may carry . . . or crash . . . It’s a journey . . . and I want . . . to go . . .

Replace expectations with healthy boundaries and life gets much more peaceful. Easier said than done. I made a mistake and was disappointed because of expecting someone to do what I considered the right thing. Well, disappointed is probably a little bit of an understatement. Resentment is a far better word for what I am feeling right now. Al-Anon gave me a tool for this...it's in my box but my ego got in the way. It said to me, "You do all this; therefore, this person will put a similar effort in on their part." Big no no! If I am doing something with the expectation of something in return then my motives are skewed.  The better way for me to handle this is to figure out what I can and cannot live with and what I am able to give freely without needing something in return and then just do so. Unfortunately, this means cutting back on doing things I love or doing a lot more things alone. It kinda sucks because I spent a long time doing a whole bunch of t

It's 4:00 am and I just spent the last hour of a restless night reading my blog from the start. It was so good to see how far I've come, how much things have changed.   I'm grateful beyond words. Today I will talk a little about the Boy Scout. He is laying next to me, wearing that CPAP machine (thank goodness) and sleeping soundly.  When he wakes he will do so with a smile, like he does almost every morning. He will profess his love and caress my face. This guy is easy going, easy to laugh, loves animals and children, adores my kids and has a tremendous amount of loyalty for me, his friends and even his ex-wife. He loves to cook and entertain and he sings and dances while he does it. I have grown to love this man in a way that is foreign to me. I love him enough to face my demons and question their validity even in the middle of an argument. Something I should have learned to do as a child but better late than never. The Boy Scout sometimes struggles with sadness an

Yesterdays post has tugged at my heart in an unexpected way.  I wrote about how I held each of my dying parents. It was not completely true...I was not with him when he died. I made several of trips up to my father’s house as he went through the dying process. His home was in a town called Groveland, close to Yosemite, which is 6 hours away from my home. Being the mother of 4 and self employed made the trip tough. Remembering our last visit is still difficult and heartwarming at the same time. My Dad had so many regrets. He deserted our family when I was about 9 or 10. He had been in and out of the house, caused my sweet mother so much grief and had many affairs before leaving for good. Being in the movie industry allowed him the freedom to give into his weaknesses but his conscience did not grant him grace from his actions. Five of us had reconciled with him over the years but my oldest sister had not. As he lay dying he cried with sorrow at the choices he had made. He ask

I hate my body...sometimes. The boyish figure, buying bras and bathing suits for non-existent boobs, the way it does whatever it wants despite my prodding and cajoling. I dislike the sudden roundness of my abdomen even though the weight hasn't changed. With age has come; slack to the once taut and supple skin, crow’s feet and let's not even talk about the neck. My body laughs at me and my mistakes. It says, "Why didn't you appreciate me when you could? Even when your strength was at its peak, when the aches were few and far between, you still found reasons to be unhappy." Frequent uproars....when I exercise too hard, eat food it decides is not appropriate for us or simply ask it to do something that was once so easy. An all over profound dryness reminds me that we are aging. I need drops for my eyes, chew gum for dry mouth, require continuous applications if lotion on my skin. Those are the emotions I have when the societal pressures of looking and being perfec

There is so much beauty in this world, it amazes me. We get to choose how we walk through life; we get to decide if our eyes are opened or if we shut them tight in a futile attempt to protect ourselves from the pain the world throws our way. The "shutting of our eyes" may mean something different to me than it would to someone else. Pour moi, it means lashing out at what might hurt me, what scares me. If you are smart you won't get in the way. The other night I made a mistake of striking instead of conversing. I hate it when I do that...I HATE IT WHEN I DO THAT. My counselor talks about giving myself a time out to figure out why my reaction is so intense. Whether is stems from being abandoned by my alcoholic father or, perhaps, still dealing with the ugly demise of my marriage...I'm suppose to figure that out before engaging. I'm not that evolved yet but I am working on it. Later on, I was able to just talk, unemotionally and with logic, about the issue. I o

I've been struggling the past week or two.  My business is having a pretty big cash flow problem that occurred because of the decisions of someone else. It's been in the back of my mind a lot. There is a knot in my gut...especially when I am at the office trying to work it out...trying to flesh out what next week, next month and the month after that will look like. It will eventually work itself out but it is going to take some time. Meanwhile, that means taking on some debt and, perhaps, getting into my retirement fund. In order to keep on a good emotional track, I have been practicing a number of things: Staying in the moment. Next week’s problems will still be there even if I fret over them today. I am trying to leave next week where it belongs. Instead of lamenting the potential of having to dip into retirement, I will just be grateful that there is some money in that retirement fund that I can dip into. EASY...I am so thankful for that little fund.

Day 6 - Write ten things that you are proud you accomplished. Forgiveness. Without that, none of the other wonderful things that have occurred would have been possible. Learning how to accept and detach from my kids. It sounds negative but doing so has allowed me to love them freely and without hesitation. No judgement and no responsibility...just love. I've learned how to say "NO" and it's amazing. I've accepted my hearing loss and am pretty darn comfortable with it. I can right off the bat say, "I have hearing loss, can you repeat that" and repeat it again if I have to. I don't know if I can say it is my accomplishment but I am so proud of my kids and how they have dealt with their father. Love, kindness, forgiveness and acceptance...and still practicing self care....they are amazing people. Learning that being kind to others is being kind to myself. I've learned to give my love away again.  Not perfectly but in my own messy way...

Day 5 - Look yourself in the mirror and say to yourself with emotion, "I love you." Repeat 5 times. Uhm.....Awkward! Bring on day 6......quickly please.

Day 4 - Find one homeless person and give them some money. It doesn't have to be a lot, but when you give it to them, make eye contact and smile. Done and done.   Once again, not sure how this is an act of self love except, maybe, showing love to others is a form of self love. Our local Lowes has an exit where there is always someone standing. Today was a young kid...maybe 17 to 22. I'm guessing his drug of choice is meth judging by the extreme thinness, twitchy body movements and sores on his face. My oldest daughter and youngest son both have strong opinions about the distribution of money to the homeless. My eldest spent a semester in San Francisco. When she came home, she espoused the concept of giving only to the charities that serve the homeless rather than the guy on the corner. I understand this....at least you know that you are providing nourishment or shelter with your cash. My youngest son believes that if a couple of bucks is going to ease the discomfort o

WORD FOR THE DAY Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again. SARAH BAN BREATHNAC One of the “sayings” in Al-Anon is about expectations. What I gather when they say “ Expectations are premeditated resentments ” is that when we are dealing with our “qualifiers” or any of the people in our lives, it is very good to learn not to expect anything.  The Bard of Avon himself said, “Expectation is the root of all heartache”. I’m not one to argue with Shakespeare but… I do believe that we should always hold onto the knowledge that the when dealing with our own hearts, our own attitudes, that we have a choice. I expect to be in a better place a year from now. I have the tools; I have been putting in the hard work, been trying and failing and trying again. It’s such a bummer because when I fail, others can point that out as “the problem” and neglect to look at the