All I need to know about 2014 I learned on the first day.

New Year's Day is not really a blip on my radar as far as holidays go. I don't go crazy with the resolutions or have that feeling that my slate is wiped clean. I do love symbolism and divination, though, and right now there is such a flurry of activity happening in my world that I found myself actually asking what 2014 holds in store. Throughout the day little things started to float to the surface. By the end, I realized all that I had seen and what I could do to serve myself best in the next 364 days. One observation I made to myself last night was that over 2013 I read a lot of uplifting, encouraging, and inspiring things looking to find a reflection of myself in them. This year, I'd like to do more writing of these things so that I'm living them too rather than just reading about them being lived by other people. So, I am.

My 1-1-14 got off to a late start but I didn't really have any expectations upon my day farther than one hour to the next. You know, that's not a bad way to operate. I guess I did have some pretty basic goals. I wanted food when I was hungry, warmth when I was cold, and overall health and safety for myself and those in my charge and that was about it. Yet, I didn't specify how any of those things came to be. I just believed they would be met.  As it happened, a portion of those goals were reached through the generosity of a dear friend rather than our own hands. So...1. I'll keep doing my part and laying the groundwork and I'll let the Universe decide from what avenue or in what form my prosperity will come. In the perspective of one day, necessities met were good goals but for the year, I can up the ante. The Universe can take it.

2. I will continue to have times where I feel less than my potential but still answer the call to accomplish things bigger than myself.
I started my day not feeling my best between viruses and holiday excesses. However, I was still participating in my life. As I watched the other 2 Sassy Broads and our associates in a frenzy of planning and development of our collective dreams over social media, there were many moments I felt a little in over my head-- Ok, way over my head-- but I stayed available and chimed in instead of hiding out in my cave until I felt worthy. Maybe I didn't have the next of our brilliant ideas that day but I showed up. I'm learning that I don't have to have all the answers or be the 'most-est' to matter. In fact, very often you don't know what you can offer until the opportunity presents itself while you're present. Some of my greatest moments last year happened because I was just there and gave what I had. This year, I'm not waiting for anything. I am worthy and I'm showing up.

3. I witnessed friends and loved ones dealing with loss and there was not much I could do but hold space for them in my heart and be present when asked. There will be more loss in the coming year and just being present in some way does matter. 
Grief and loss affect everyone in their lives. Everyone handles it differently. We spent the afternoon visiting a friend who has experienced the loss of a parent recently. He opened his home and his kitchen to his friends for that day and made us dinner! We had life-changing chili (lime juice and fresh cilantro, who knew???), chocolate pie, and lounged on the couch watching original episodes of The Twilight Zone on TV. No grand speeches or overtures had to be made. We just sat and shared time and food together. Unfortunately, I never had the pleasure of meeting his mother but from what I have gathered and by his example, she must have been a kind, thoughtful, and loving friend to many. The expression of love between human beings needn't be complicated. It just needs to be expressed in some way. I'm grateful to him for providing an experience of physical and emotional comfort to us and I hope our company was a comfort to him as well because as comfy as we were due to his hospitality, spending time with him was why we were there.

4. Even when a loss in my own life seems imminent, there is still uncertainty. I will have to learn how to handle that and the time in-between.
I've had people close to me leave this life in both a 'prepared' way and in a sudden way. I'm often asked which I thought was easier. Neither, is my answer because each person's imprint on your life is unique and their loss is never easy. My mother has a terminal illness. Just how that translates into minutes or years is unclear for any of us as this condition has been on-going for several years already. I received an emotionally difficult email from her on the first day of the year. The timing was difficult, our relationship has always been difficult, and all is made further complex by this question of how much more time there is. This will be a year that I will be forced to address this situation. We have come a long way forward within the last year though, and all I know for certain is that I can admit that I don't have the answers right now. That's a pretty big step right there and enough for me for the time being. 

Watching those episodes of Twilight Zone was like sitting with a grandparent for story time. I didn't remember-- or perhaps just didn't appreciate-- how eloquent the writing was and how full of life lessons many were. With a belly full of chili and a super soft couch, I was snug as a bug absorbing the messages. Each episode we watched are worth their very own discussion but I think it's more poignant that I learned this: 5. Just because the landscape and technology is different today than it was 50 years ago, the world hasn't really changed. Humans still face the same questions about our existence and purpose. Aesthetics and gadgets aren't going to change the world for the future. The people who use them have to have made a change.

Follow this with watching the feature film, Man of Steel, with the family that evening and my message for 2014 was clear. The story of a being not of this planet but nurtured and raised in it possessing unlimited potential to solve problems and create a future better than what we've witnessed thus far should mean something to us all. Superheroes are our modern day mythology and they challenge us with a call to action. I saw it very personally. Another 50 years is going to tick by, this year I'm being called to decide whether I'm just going to be in this world or if I'm going to invest in it. I'll have to be one who invests in order to help have the advancement of humanity and not just the complexity of our gadgets to show for it.

I know that that is a lot to take in for just one day but the clues were there for me to find. I also know that all of these things are true in any year of our lives but it is significant that they were brought to my attention this year. I was aware. I was ready to hear them. I'm different than I was on 1-1-13. Wisdom, like a wizard, is never late nor early but arrives precisely when it means to. I'm not one who usually makes them but I had actually considered making traditional resolutions this year. All of these contemplations and realizations I found actually boiled down to one simple goal for myself. Show up. I'm going to show up to the event of my life. That's why I'm here and that's what ultimately will make a difference for everyone.

Autumnal Blessings

     It felt like the leaves were never going to surrender their green and give over to their final brilliant hues. I kept thinking that perhaps, after a dry spell at the end of Summer, that just one more soaking rain might do it. Just as a watched pot that never boils, it was when my attention was focused elsewhere that an explosion of color occurred. I couldn't wait to get out into the Ozark wilderness to observe them all. So, this past weekend my mate and I took to the trails at the Wilson's Creek National Battlefield. It is one of our favorite places to hike. The scenery is lovely there in every season. I have never failed to come home with an assortment of sky-given treasures of feather or small animal bone. I like all my beautiful things with at least a dash of melancholy about them and in this place there is the sobering weight of history that adds depth to the breath-taking beauty of the landscape. The park serves as a fitting memorial to the brave soldiers and citizens that lived, fought, and died through this terrible time in our country's story.




At this time in the Wheel of the Year, we honor our ancestors. We can honor them best by doing the best we can to learn from their triumphs and their mistakes to make this an even better world than how we found it. We also celebrate the harvest of all our hard work before facing the cold, dark Winter. The foliage sure knows how to make an exit and I wanted to share the spectacular views of my homeland with all of you. 


Lets remember those who have come before us, those we have lost from this Earthly plane this year, and to share our bounty and gratitude with each other. 
 

 

Playing With Visual Metaphors

Once the big dramatic work of clearing the cobwebs and clutter from my life and mind was done and the excitement of plugging in the reunited pieces of me had waned, there was an unsettling silence that set in. At first there was a welcome calm after so much upheaval but then what? I set about filling in the cracks with things-- new things for the new me. I tried to be careful not to just start cramming junk in again. It's kind of like building a rock wall.  (I love a good metaphor, don't you?) I could choose stones that only kind-of fit and make it work by dumping a bunch more mortar and gravel, or I could be patient (yes, even more so) for stones that fit perfectly-- the stones born to be there. That doesn't mean I won't have to try several out until I find it but why fill in space and settle with 'less than'? I think it stems from fear and a desire to begin to heal... to not feel so raw inside.

Sometimes I let the pressure get to me. Self-imposed pressure. Like I have to constantly be heading toward the goal line. Funny how big change often clears the way so the road to the goal is clarified but it also makes you braver to change again; opening even more options before you. You may even find that the goal has changed.

Now with a wall the focus is on a barrier = finite space. There is only before the wall and beyond the wall. In construction school we built walls but we also built a stone pathway once too. I don't want to limit myself so much anymore. So, about that stone wall metaphor-- Let's change it to a walkway instead. I can be more free with everything because the focus is along the path instead. I decide how wide I want it, how long, where it will lead... And it's already changed many times. Once my foundation stones are in place the general direction becomes clearer-- mapped out where I intend to go but not necessarily permanent or ridgid. I'm finding myself exploring rather than plodding along methodically down the obvious way. The indistinct paths and the wilds become less frightening and more enticing. Almost irresistable in fact. You never know what new views and treasures hide in there. There may be new foes but there may be new allies too. I'm not as afraid as I once was because I'm more prepared. I just keep laying stones as I go; keeping what works and letting go of what doesn't.

It might as well be with a bounce!

     Many of you know that this last Spring I took up running. I had the best run of my life last night. Yes, really! Best of my LIFE!

     In a previous writing I talked about my history with my cantankerous legs. Right after I wrote about my then farthest distance run, I developed shin splints in my right leg. It was an agonizing delay to my progress. Hindsight being what it is and having determined to see lessons in everything, I'm sure that there was something in that experience that continues to prepare me for future greatness. I'll admit I'm not entirely positive what that is but I believe it's there for me to eventually understand.
    
     I still have some pain-- not the acute kind that I certainly heed. More of a dull ache really. Over the last few weeks I've found that after about the first mile of activity it fades in intensity. My partner and I have been slowly replacing walking time with more running. We've been regularly reaching a cumulative 2+ miles per session. Even when I've given myself permission to do less.

     We decided to see if we could run straight through the first leg of the trail of which we would normally walk up to 4 tenths. I've been doing longer stretches at a time so I thought sure, why not? It's about a mile total to the end where we'd turn around and do the same pattern on the way back.

     Right in the middle of this part of the trail is a significant hill that winds up a small bluff. We call it El Diablo. We've always held it as this daunting challenge. There's one guy I see that comes to run this hill repeatedly on purpose! He gets to the top, walks back down, and then charges up it again. Without a doubt, it's a great workout. Inspired, about two weeks ago, we started adding El Diablo in as a running part instead of a walk.

     We made it all the way through the first mile, turned around, and headed back. About the time I got halfway up El Diablo, I faced a decision. I was debating walking here so I could run the easier stuff later and get more mileage. Or I could finish this and still be proud that I'd run so far already without stopping. Something shifted in me as my legs and lungs were burning up that damn hill. I thought to myself: even if my stride is barely a shuffle just keep up the movement. If I'm going to step forward--no matter how small-- it might as well be with a bounce. So I did.

     I got to a point where I felt like I was practically jogging in place but I was still springing; albeit wiltedly. I did it though... and I kept doing it all the way back to the starting point. I decided to keep going through the second part of the trail that totals about another mile in a loop. This new mantra sticking in my head: If I'm gonna go forward might as well be with a bounce.

     Every time my partner slowed to a walk, thinking I would too, I shuffled by him and kept going. Later he'd tease me about being competitive; that I just have to do more than him. Not really. I know he's capable of running longer and harder than I but I just never know when I'm going to feel up to pushing my limits until it's happening.

     The last 3/10 is chipped wood along the creek and I was starting to feel drained. So I started telling myself that I was flowing like the water that I could hear rushing over the rocks. That I'd already made it and now it was Earth under my feet and she'd give me my energy back. ..That this was the easy part now. Coasting. The mind is a powerful thing. I was able to lengthen my stride again, lift my knees a little higher, and I floated to the "finish line".

     I was giddy with pride, exhaustion, and almost tearing up. We walked back along the creek a ways to cool down and find the wandering kiddo. I marveled at what I'd just accomplished. My total came to about 3.1 miles. For my own purpose I'm not going to count the almost standstill on the hill because next time I'll do it like I mean it. I've never run continuously that far EVER; nevermind over 3 miles with hills and curves! As it turns out, neither had my partner!

     I know there are lots of people that are able to run farther and faster and I imagine one day we'll be right there with them. We're celebrating anyway because a milestone is a milestone and even if I somehow never do it again, I felt how a simple thought can empower you to do great things. I kept thinking of my friend who climbs mountains. Her advice mixed with my own experience. Just keep going forward no matter how small your steps and if you're gonna do it, it might as well be with a bounce. 

No News is Good News

     I've kept a journal since I was a little girl. I kinda thought that keeping a blog would be a simple technological upgrade to an already established habit. I've found that it's harder than it seems for an introvert like me who feels compelled to disect a lot of what I write for the privacy of those dear to me.

     Years ago, an ex brought it to my awareness that he believed I wrote to work out my troubles. Looking over old journals, I realized he was right. When things are going smooth and steady there is often a significant gap from one entry to the next. When things are rocky or I'm feeling conflicted, I might have several entries in a day.

     That's really not the way I wanted to operate. I'm always thinking about the people who'll be reading these someday when I'm gone and I wouldn't want them to think my life was a continuous crisis. I never would've thought that it could be hard to get in a habit of writing the about happy things. They're certainly the things I want to remember.
     
     I'm not gonna beat myself up about it because ultimately I know I have a sure-fire, go-to, healthy coping mechanism. It sounds like a pretty good exercise to push myself to start writing about the blessings more often too.  In my private journals, it's all about me and what I need to say. To you all, it doesn't have to be constant happiness and light; that'd be unrealistic too. I think it comes down to thinking about who I'm writing for and, like everything else in life, finding a balance.  

     I also realized that I tend to write essay style rather than conversationally. That's a lot of pressure on myself! Instead of chronicling the little wonders that hit my brain, I wait until I have some kind of full-blown thesis and analyze the crap out of it. I'm gonna change some things. I think a lot of us tend to put rules and straight-jackets all over our creative expression; everything from our wardrobe to structuring our thinking. It really doesn't have to be that way. I sure don't condemn my favorite bloggers and thinkers for the kind of junk I judge myself with. I love what they write because it's real and it's how they're feeling when they share it. Hmm... another reminder on how to be a good friend to myself.

     So, I'm going to forgive this gap in blog posts. I haven't made my monthly goal I set of at least 4 posts but it ain't over yet! There's so much exciting stuff going on here, hence the silence, as I've been sorting through it all and keeping my head on. Well... as tethered as it ever is. *wink*

Creekside Consultation

     The month of June is already often a difficult time for me, and this one has been a challenge, indeed. It's brought sudden loss and funerals as well as memories of sudden loss, grief, and funerals in the past. The heat of high Summer is settling in and the difficult news from around the world feels as oppressive and stifling as the climbing heat index. I've been feeling fatigued and stagnant. Hopefulness hasn't been as easy to reach as I've become accustomed to.

     I found myself encountering emotions I'm not proud of. I've felt self-pity, envy, self-doubt, and laziness. I've felt a disatisfaction with myself and my life that gave me a wake-up call when I faced it. Do I really have any reason to feel this way? I have a new way of doing things over the last couple of years. When I need help I go to the source. I went to my sacred space by a creek, gave many thanks, and listened.

     The birdsong reminded me to take a higher view and speak truly to myself and others. There has been sadness in this month but there has also been growth and purpose. I was able to be present in support of my family in a tough experience. I was also able to be an instrument of Spirit by delivering a message of love and comfort from one who has passed to a loved one in her grief and she didn't run away screaming or call me a freak. I did my job and acted on an opportunity to extend love. I feel really good about that.

     In a little pool off to my side there was a snapping turtle just hanging out and I thought about flexibility in my thinking. Maybe I haven't had as many appointments this month but opportunities don't always come in the ways that we expect. When we only measure success in one way, we're more often disappointed than not. Part of learning to live a free life is to take the chains off of our expectations too. Let the Universe handle the How. I'll just keep swimming, so to speak, and there's something to be said for just floating when your head is easily above water and your feet still touch the Earth. Snappers can't retreat back into their shell when threatened, they bite. I need to be mindful of my words when I feel stressed.

     A young Great Blue Heron flew by. Herons do their own thing. They dance to the beat of a different drum. It's self-reliant and resourceful. Herons have a mastery in 3 of the 4 elements; Earth, Water, and Air. I'm young in this stage of my life too but I'm getting it. I am fairly comfy in thought, emotion, and grounded in reality (my reality, that is)... What's missing is fire. True enough, I am lacking fire; that raw energy and motivation that kicks us into gear. Something to consider...

     Damselflies were copulating all around me in the in-between places where the water met the stone-- in the mosses growing thick on the rocks jutting out of the current. It made me think of creativity-- the conditions and components, the recipe of creation-- and how they're cold-blooded creatures who need the warmth of light and the sun to thrive. They begin their lives immersed in the water and crawl out to transform on the rocks to someday fly. Their irridescent scales reflect color with the light.  Now I know I need this light and warmth of the hot days. Embrace and absorb the energy freely given. I also need to balance my emotions with intellect.

     Lots to process... In the old days I felt so alone and I kept those negative emotions close to me like familiar friends but they left me feeling raw and powerless. Not what true friends do. It makes me feel much better to now have a plan. As I sat on the stone in the middle of the babbling water, I realized that these emotions are meant to just flow by if I stay grounded and let them go. With stone beneath me, afternoon sun touching me through the trees, breeze softly blowing on my face, I let the rushing current take all that negativity away with it. I let it cleanse me of all that I've been wrestling with for at least another day. I didn't feel the least bit lonely with so much advice coming from all directions.
 

The Beauties Become the Beasts

     I think I've learned a little bit about the essence of compulsion today. 
    
     Emotionally, I've had a complex weekend and it's the start of a new work week. I'm at the Dayjob and there's not much work to do. Instead of finding something productive to make the day go by a bit faster, what am I doing? I'm chewing my fingers off very, very slowly.

I've noticed that I tend to do this a lot at this job. I'm isolated in a corner of the haphazardly renovated office. Literally, people often just assume I'm here but can't honestly say for sure until I seek them out for something.--Side note: As cool as that sounds, I'm positive that if I ever tried to exploit this fact, I wouldn't get away with it long... I'm just that gal. The one that always gets caught attempting anything daring-- Anyway, so here I am with nobody overseeing me, tomb-like silence except for the occasional fax that comes in, and I'm alone with my thoughts.

     I notice that my hands are dry. I have that problem a lot. As I go to put lotion on, I notice a flake of skin that interrupts the smoothness of a finger tip and that's all it takes. Removing it seems so very necessary before I can move on with another task.  Before I know it, almost all of them are raw and a little sore from my nibbling, picking, and peeling and I berate myself for not treating my body more lovingly.  Would I ever be so rough and demanding on someone else's fingers? No. Would I ever insist to someone else that this is healthy for them or would be at all attractive? Hell no. Why do I do it then???

     I have all these thoughts that are bouncing around in my mind. Ideas come to me incomplete and vague but poignant enough to keep my attention and distract me from work that actually has resolution. My dry and torn cuticles are like those nagging thoughts that won't go away but stay unresolved. Any little rough patch nags at me until I can make it smooth again. Anyone who's had a hangnail knows that without the proper tools they get worse not better, but I keep messing and pulling at them. I get frustrated watching my efforts compound the problem and fervently wish I would've just left them alone in the first place.
    
     I only do it at the Dayjob. At home, all weekend I don't think twice about my finger tips. I also very rarely do it if my nails are manicured. I used to be a nail-biter from way back but I quit after wearing acrylic nails for almost a year. When the falsies were gone and my own grew out they had changed into the same strong, lovely shaped nails I remembered my grandmother having when I was little. She was dying of cancer and I would sleep next to her in her hospice bed when I stayed the night. I'd fall asleep holding her hand and exploring her long, perfectly curved fingernails. Ever since I saw them on my own hands, I've respected them and tried to keep them nice. I don't bite them anymore. I love them. Damn that imperfect flesh around them!

     We do this to ourselves in all kinds of ways, don't we? We find the one flaw or weakness we have in an otherwise good and beautiful whole being and pick it to death. We pick at it and fuss with it until it's all we can think about, see, and feel. We keep it raw and vulnerable which completely dims the greatness of the admirable traits we've been blessed with. Compulsiveness feeds on our condemnation of ourselves; we deem ourselves as not measuring up-- not perfect enough. We feed the flaws instead of the virtues and our wounds overshadow our graces. The beauties become the beasts.

     Maybe the hand-washers and neat freaks can never be clean enough of their shame, the over-eaters (been here too) can never fill their tanks with love, and we nail-biters and finger-nibblers feel we can't accomplish or create all the treasures we hold in our dreams.

    Upon reflection, I have also noticed (big duh) that I can't chew on my fingers if I'm writing. Ten fingers on the key board channeling those ideas and emotions; acting as a conduit from my mind down through my heart, arms, and out the finger tips to the world. Maybe if instead of bottling them up I imagine the thoughts as a healing energy and let them flow down my arms, through my freshly colored womanly nails, my ravished skin will heal and I will have practiced treating my hands and soul with the respect and love they deserve.