An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

To: J Once again, without saying much of anything, you allowed me to see a life situation from a different point of view.  From my childhood I learned to look for what could go wrong, to be cautious, and to protect. Protect what? I was never beaten, never bruised on my body. Nor was I taught resilience, or if I was, I missed the lesson so thoroughly that I was forced to build a protective barrier to keep the pain out. And to be fair, the little girl that I was, she was hurt by the dance that the two people, who held her safety in their hands, had to do regardless of the age and ability of the on-lookers to understand, process and realize that it nothing to do with them. When I earnestly shared my concern, you pushed back with what might be possible, pointing out, without meaning to, my narrow train of thought, the one that seeks to protect at any cost. Also, you showed me a form of more unconditional loyalty that says “I am on your side, no matter what.” It’s not the first time you’ve

Met a gal in an antique store the other day. She introduced herself as the owner and told me where everything was and let me get on with it. It was not my taste. She handled primitives, I'm more everyday eclectic. I spotted a little newspaper article tucked in a corner wall. It told me all about her. "Joan" had been raised in the very town she had her store in. The story was interesting so I thought I'd go chat her up since there was nobody else in the store. I went back to the counter and said, "Can I ask you a few questions?". Sure she says pulling away from her computer and giving me her attention. "They are of a more personal nature", I tell her. She squeezes her eyes tight together and gives me a huge smile, " Want to go out and sit on the porch?" she says. And we do. I pepper her with questions about Sellwood Oregon, growing up there in the late 40's, early 50's. She has all kinds of stories and wanted to tell them.  My luck

I was taught to ask for nothing. My sweet mother did not know she was teaching me this. I expect she, too, was taught to ask for nothing. When this behavior is absorbed it affects more in my life than you would realize. In customer service, I wouldn’t dream of getting a clerks attention. I would wait until they see me. There are times that it is appropriate, like when they are busy with someone else, and there are times it is not, like when they are doing a mundane task and don’t look up or when they are shooting the breeze with another employee and don’t bother to notice. Either way, I would stand and wait. Or, worse, after a time, I would get very angry and somewhat nasty when I was “forced” to speak up. If someone has forgotten something we've agreed to, I have a hard time reminding them we've done so. Or if I am owed money for whatever reason, I would have a difficulty bringing it up. There are areas in my life this applies and areas it doesn’t and I can’t tell you exactly

Do you ever have those moments where your words or reactions do not match the person you believe yourself to be? I had one yesterday. Driving along, heavy afternoon traffic, on our way to someplace that doesn’t matter at all. We are chatting or listening to music or a pod cast, when we something catches both of our eyes. Suddenly we are aware that we are captive, the light saying “stay” even though we want nothing more than to move from this spot. We look, look away, and look again. The Boy Scout says something funny and we both laugh nervously. The sight before us is a bit shocking. She’s on the sidewalk dancing….sort of. Is it a she, he asks me. Well, I see nothing there that would tell me different.  There is a trash can box. You know, the kind of metal box that has a locked panel that is opened when the trash person comes to empty the bin inside the metal enclosure. It could almost be mistaken for a street Mail Drop box but a little bigger. Half of her, the top half, is inside the

For years I sought out the morning quiet without even knowing I was doing so.  Remembering the feeling of annoyance for that infant, whichever infant,  waking earlier than they were suppose to, infringing upon the moments of morning solitude  that my body would seek; no alarm needed. That desire magnified when we left that big house that gave me space I needed, and found ourselves in 900 sq ft. Me and two young adults. There was no corner to retreat to, no place that wouldn’t disturb the other occupants  of that house that smothered me; but only in the mornings That’s when I took to the car, where I would watch the new day begin, where I could listen, in a volume suited for my ears, to the poets and preachers, the guides, that promised to help me convert my turmoil into peace, my anger into grace. They’ve kept their promise, or rather I did, with their help.  Now, I’m looking for a place inside this house, a corner of quiet,  an early retreat, where I can feel safe, finding shelter  fr

Do you ever struggle with envy? In the main, I do not. I have learned what it is that triggers those bouts of jealously and try to buffer myself against it. I left Facebook behind a long time ago. It didn’t help my life’s journey. Two of my sisters travel a ton together. A TON. The have been all over the world. They’ve been to much of Europe, done a safari, stayed on Greek islands, seen the Caribbean, did the Panama Canal and more. Much of the time it is on cruises, which I don’t envy at all, but on road trips too. I love road trips. I love the freedom I feel when unencumbered and not on a schedule, seeing what comes round the next bend.   My sisters and their spouses are doing a southwest tour, seeing places I’d love to see, doing tours I’d love to do. The green bug has bitten. It’s not fatal. I’ll recover in a short period of time but I do envy their ability to hit the road. And perhaps that they get to do it together. There! I said it. Now, deeeep breath, come back to this beautiful

A hot bath Rain when the sun shines A warm breeze on my face A smile with crooked teeth A Starbucks lid that stays on A car that starts A real smile from someone you love Bach A magic blanket, so soft it’s like water The best pico A dog’s presence  Love Love