Repeated Mistakes be Damned

It takes courage to walk away from something good.  It takes courage to demand the great in your life.  This is the choice I am going to make for myself.  I settled once in this life and I am suffering the consequences interminably.  Now is not the time to make the wrong choice.  All the highs and lows hold my attention, and create wild mood swings from misery to ecstasy, but it is not sustainable and will age me faster than it will benefit me.

Making these choices is not my strong suit – I have always been drawn to the dramatic – it makes me feel like I am living a life worthwhile.  There are ways to enjoy the extremes in life without the emotional turmoil, without the unnecessary gamble that I am currently taking.  My chest is tight with grief this morning, a mini-mourning session for a mini excursion toward love.  It wasn’t the right path, and for that I am frustrated with myself as well as frightened that I might keep moving forward out of habit. 

A friend offered another takeaway to focus on: this experience has proven that I can, and want to, love again.  With every experience there is something to learn.  The faithful would argue that we are fated to have the experiences we need most to grow.  Whether it is destiny or not, the right perspective is one of gratitude and open-minded introspection. 

Making mistakes is okay, making the same mistake again is not. 

Rain Rain, Here to Stay?

There is something very serious brewing in my stomach. I was worried I'd gotten food poisoning last night because of the foreboding feeling streaming not from my mind or heart, but from my gut.  This morning it is still there, heavier, and louder. 

Last night was overwhelmingly negative. I woke to heavy rain, as though my home sat next to a cathartic waterfall that was pressure washing my world. Will there be clarity today? Where did last night come from? Which feeling do I heed, the high from before or the low I now know? 

There is so much wisdom I want to ignore with impetuous disregard. I'm not 20 anymore, and emotionally I regress to the love of excess...which I can no longer afford. Efforts to be understood last night were stonewalled by a stubborn bull who either didn't want to or couldn't understand. 

There is a weakness to that wall somewhere and I wonder how much effort and time it will take to find it, and how much of me I will have to sacrifice to succeed.

Today I will wallow in a patient state of uncertainty for the second day in a row. Let there be rain.

Let's move, together or not

I have so many truths that I keep quiet. So many thoughts, convictions even, that I hold in. "Why?" you might ask. Because I have children. Children with ears and memories that stay awake as late, if not later, than we do. There isn't enough opportunity to speak these truths, so they are dormant, waiting, impending, inevitable, explosive. There is more opportunity to keep to myself than to share. 

These are not good truths.

Despite any fault in my upbringing I am a woman of deep foundation. It's an internal base, and one I prosper off of daily. But it is, as foundations go, hard to expand upon once set. In other words, I believe myself to be a singular powerhouse.

So I see the fork in the road ahead and ruely shake my head to clear the déjà vu. Onward, dear honesty. Let's find our path and make haste. Life is just too short for second guessing.

Onward: upward and forward.

Springtime is here folks, and I could not be gladder. The sunshine on my shoulders renews within me a sense of possibility that is energizing and invigorating – thank heaven! This winter has been a rough one – adding a newborn to the list of excuses as to why you don’t get out of the house in the winter makes for a very sedentary season.  I cannot remember the last time I went for a run, but I am pretty sure it was over a year ago *shudder.

I am excited to seize this new found energy and make something count from these next few months leading into summer.  We have a brief window of opportunity from the blazing summer sun to really make some changes in our household and I am going to do everything within my power to get some momentum and keep it going.  I cannot tell you how tired I am of being tired.

The first order of business will be to get our lazy butts out of the house and into nature.  Time is fleeting, opportunity is passing us by, and honestly I do not think we need as much family time as we have been getting lately.  A family mantra when there is a newborn is to be home with the baby, home with the children, home for dinner, home for bedtime.  The obsessive togetherness has prevented any forward movement because it takes more coordination then I have to propel four people into the same direction.  

And so I say on this day: Onward: upward and forward. Life is too short to cherish every damn minute.  Some moments must get lost in the shuffle, because at least then, you are moving.

Allocating Time For What Matters To Me

Amid the swirling realities that bog down too many minutes of my day I am inundated with reaction and emotion and ultimately frustration at how quickly I’m overcome.  Now, anything that might heighten the chaos will ultimately become more to juggle, and so I find myself putting a lot of balls down. 

When I think about the things I would like to dedicate my time to, if it doesn't involve my family I feel as though I will be committing time unwisely.  Our generation has been raised with ultimate knowledge via the internet, and this omniscient perspective has culminated the widely known “truth” that is: nothing else matters in the end.  I feel like I know more of what options this life has to offer than my parents, and I read commentary over and over again by those who are near the end of their time that family is what matters.  The drama of raising children, the chaos of feeding them and caring for them, that is what it is all for. 

So one must decide what the all will be in that equation, ie what will matter to the children the most?  If it all for them, what would they benefit from the most during this time with their parents?  And there it is: with.their.parents.  With us.  So those balls, those choices, if they cannot be done with them then they aren't done at all. 

I lose the present sometimes when overwhelmed by the lives of others via social media, television, and work politics.  Stepping away from those influences as much as possible seems a wise course of action.  My children are little, and therefore we are in a precious window of time where they need me, and are truly influenced by me. 

How we are with family flows over into each generation’s priority hierarchy.  My children will watch how I am with my parents and sister, and will emulate me.  My mother moved and raised her family across the country from her roots, and here I am doing the same.  My parents committed every moment they could to my childhood, and here I am with those same values. 

Suppose today, on my way home from work, I get hit by a car and die.  I am inclined to believe that my children, my partner, my mother and father, they are what will flash into my mind.  The impact that I have on them now will be my legacy.  Therefore everything I am doing must be for the betterment of my people. The selfishness occurs when I stop to relish in their beauty, but the selflessness exists when they are better off for it.

My conundrum for today is: When does the selflessness of parenting end and the selfishness of self begin?  This will be different for each parent, I’m sure.  But where is that line for me?  

Stay-at-home parent - Daddy style

When I was pregnant with my son I read a novel about a woman who's husband lost his job and she became the breadwinner. Leaving her role as a stayathome, she watched her husband take over and run the household in a very different way. It was more chaotic, and playful. 

The woman in that book struggled with the concept far less than I did two months ago when that fiction became my reality. Any hope I had for a return to full-time motherhood is laughable, as we begin to understand the path that I may attain in my career. The choice was simply whether to be a good parent, after that there was no choice: my hubby needs to stay home with our children.

The family dynamics when the dad is at home are foreign to us. We do not have a model to work with. I suspect, like most things, there are many books and even movies we could find on the subject. In the meantime we are floating in peculiar and inviting waters... And I guess I'm on the lookout for a shark.

Return to Solace

From tragedy springs truth. Blessed are those who can return to solace, in silence.

 I spend too much time indoors, being busy. There is so much to do that when I wake I lay in bed categorizing the list of what must be achieved. Only in extreme moments do I run to the forest for contemplation, and reflection.

Today I find myself in the expected misery of the past repeated. I did not choose this path blindly, as I have walked it before. Of the paths I have wandered, this is the least treacherous, but it is not perfect. There are dark roads ahead that I cannot change, only endure, as I have before. There are forces in this chosen life of mine that I cannot change. There are other people in this life that will react to this difficult stretch ahead as they will.... A forest mouse(?) rummages at my feet! A first for me at age 32:). There are few firsts in a path well traveled. I pause gratefully.

So here I sit, munching on carrots and truth with a growing sense of pleasure springing from an awful beginning. I woke with trepidation and find myself stronger in this contemplative state. (note: it is a mole! So tiny...)

 I will not bow to the past problems, nor will I run. I will wait patiently, finding comfort in this place, in this body and mind. We are always, ultimately, alone. We cannot expect others to know us, or fix us. We really cannot expect anything from others. And yet, my head is filled with notes of gratitude that I must send. Notes to people in my present and past who have gifted me with the thoughts and ideas that offer comfort for me today. Giving random thanks should be a part of everyday life, but these thoughts are sadly not a daily occurrence.

Here I sit, high on a rock formation in the middle of the Enos river...the breeze is cold and equally delicious to the honey crisp apple in my hand. The water is roaring softly around me, and I am grateful that I don't need to pee, as this sound makes that sensation unbearable! I am almost four months pregnant now. Far along enough to be secure in my plans for our future, but not so pregnant that I am constantly reminded of how I share this body with another soul. I am plump, but not obvious, forming life every moment, but not tangibly. It is a rare time of being with child, but not overwhelmingly so.

For a while, I tried to go to church on Sundays. I have found my holy place, far from the sermons of others. Wisdom does indeed lie within me, no matter the words or thoughts of others. I am safe within my strong body and mind. I vow to return to this place, at every chance I have. I will bring my children here, so that when their roads become rocky, they will have this place to come to for peace, if they see fit. This was the gift my father gave me, those many days we spent in silence, crunching our way through the scarce natural pockets mankind has left alone. Unbeknownst to me, he was taking his time to find this inner peace, with his children in tow...I must do the same. Instead of falling to the pressure of their constant needs, I will displace them from the unnatural and bring them here (whether they like it or not).

 I have written before and will write again, it is unfortunate that I must be so sad and lonely to find myself. But I am grateful for the ability to do so, all the same.