Temporary Yuck

I’ve procrastinated as much as possible this morning…putting off the time I dedicate to being still, hammering away at the keys as it often dredges up deep truths. Annoying, irritating, gritty truths.  I don’t have to count the days to know in my soul it’s that time of year…this time, three years ago, mom took a spiral decline and hours spent bedside simply were not enough. I know it’s that time…I don’t want to admit it, I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t want to think about it.  Keeping my schedule tightly packed, mind full of distracting thoughts, busy little brain…but still it pulls, rises, tugs and plucks, needing to be acknowledged. I don’t want to identify with sadness…a thousand other daughters have lost their mothers.  My head is satisfied with her loss…she suffered, fought, and I know exactly where she is and that I’ll see her again.  That should bring me enough peace.  I’m neither happy, sad, or mad, but still those emotions rise. I’m flat, un-bubbly, care-less. I prefer bubbly, approachable, chatty, smiley…just not feeling it today.  Or yesterday.  There’s so much to do this time of year, so much cheerful possibility…I’m angry at the process…the temporary yuck.  

Procrastinating

Less of an over-thinker more of a procrastinator, I become paralyzed by possibilities. A wonderful concept settles in, then compounded by many others, it becomes shelved and nothing at all gets accomplished.  A basket of quick bites to family members counting breaths with their hospice bound mother…coulda shoulda, but just not executing. Meanwhile, the brainless tasks of dishes and laundry are quickly completed. The easy stuff accomplished, while the meaningful stuff goes undone. All heart heavy, scary stuff…the kinda stuff that makes eyes leaky, leaves one looking weak and wordless.

It’s that time of year. Three years ago, I was blessed to sit for 13 days counting my own mother’s breath.  For seemingly no reason, long quiet stares and fatigue are becoming common lately.  Longing either for the coziness of my pillow or a mind-numbing lengthy list of distracting to-dos.  Meanwhile, the gift of history, experience, goes unused.  It’s hard, it’s yucky, it’s not pretty and will likely produce an ugly cry, but it’s what I’ve been trained for. I’ve navigated the rough terrain, I’ve slept in the uncomfortable recliners, I’ve eaten the tasteless cafeteria food, I’ve discerned the glances of doctors. What good is the experience if you can’t use it to help another?  So slowly, I pull one leg, then another followed forward by my heavy heart toward the store…I’m off to fill a basket and stop procrastinating.  

Thanksgiving Thoughts

My brain and heart were mush over Thanksgiving break.  Lots of contemplation over how to love-well a person so completely different than me. Bound and determined to shower her with love, every effort fell short. Attempts to stay calm and reflect a lighter way to live turned grim. Speaking softly does not always equal speaking with compassion…in the end, my soft words still carried a steely tone.  Stuff I’m not proud of.

Do we truly have such varied definitions of peace and love? Are we really that different? Don’t we both ultimately want the greater good for our loved ones and ourselves? 

Over much contemplation and confirmation from dear ones, there’s slim to zero chance in me personally changing her definitions or perspectives…the baggage there simply too thick for me to navigate.  All I can control is myself and I was failing miserably on that front as well. In a grand revelation, perhaps the lesson to learn isn’t in changing her perspective, but instead, how to stay calm in the storm. No one can steal my joy.  No one can dictate my happiness.  But I surely handed it over on a nice shiny tray each day…allowing my happy to be dissected and discarded in tiny bite size pieces.  There's still some training required to preserve my happy...a work in progress.

Perhaps one day a grand revelation will fall upon her as well.  Til then, I will continue to send love and live the kind of life that reflects love, peace, joy, kindness, compassion, and wisdom. 

Follow Your Bliss

I adore Joanna Gaines.  I love her effortless simplicity. I love her generous nature.  I love her attention to detail.  Last night, I gained yet another aspect to love.  She has a sweet surrender to that still small voice.  They lean on God, a lot.  Big decisions, often in an unexpected direction always begin with that still small voice.

Inspired, it prompted me to consider my own path.  What is His will for me and my family?  How can I be sure I’m in the right place at the right time doing the right thing? As if on queue, that quiet voice answered,  “Follow your bliss”...where joy is, there He is.  Expertly crafted for excellent purpose, there’s an ultimate reason for my unique joy. What brings me joy isn’t necessarily the same thing that brings others joy and that variety is exactly what keeps the world spinning. What I adore, what brings me bliss, compounded with the bliss of every other obedient soul, is exactly what the world craves.   Long-lasting, eye-opening, uplifting and encouraging joy is the sort that changes the world one sweet soul at a time.  

Affirmed that I’m exactly where I should be for the moment, doing what I should be doing, I’ll continue to create space in my day to listen for that still small voice and follow my bliss.  

Just Know

Lots of college talk here lately… the first large, lane-shifting, life-altering choice is upon her.  A handful of heady decisions behind me, the best advice I offer is ‘that you just Know’.   I can lay out all the pros, cons, financials, reviews, advice, test scores, prestige, and pomp but ultimately, in all large decisions, you just Know.  From the rear view, I can see that all our major life decisions came down to The Know.

I knew Tim was the one when he told me he liked Scrapple (it’s the little things). I knew Bauernwood Drive was our first home the moment my body crossed the threshold…maybe it was the smell or the feel, but I had seen neither the bedrooms nor the basement and I Knew.  

No doubt she’ll draw pretty lines in her notebook with crisp comparison columns. She’ll watch campus videos and read alumni reviews.  She’ll dig the depths of each website accumulating, processing, comparing.  She’ll look, listen, touch and feel, then ultimately and hopefully she’ll release and just Know.  Even when the columns don’t add up, when every one and every thing points in a different direction, she’ll just Know.   And when she Knows, it will be the right and proper choice.  She’ll step forward bravely in the direction of her dreams with the first of many big decisions behind her. 

Gatherings of Women

Having very different gatherings of women surround me this weekend, typical worries of what to wear settled into old familiar and comfortable clothing. No fidgeting, no worries, one last gaze of approval from my fashion guru teenager then I was off.  Anticipation mounting, butterflies begin to stir as I approached the entrance, but quickly dissolved among familiar faces. Speed round catch up, then settling with a select few I’m most curious about. Thrilled at their accomplishments, their accolades, their families, the passion they’ve discovered, some bound to make major changes in this world, others amidst major stress, struggling to find solid ground.  Savoring their words, lost years dissolved.  Too quickly, our time ended and I realized the importance of not trying so hard…there was never a need to impress, instead, a great need to listen, to Be.  Nothing to gain from my long separated friends, just a simple appreciation for the women they’ve become. 

The long contemplative ride home led me to gathering number two.  Still abuzz with admiration, I primped and headed off.  A smaller group, more intimate, local peeps. All in costume, but seeing beyond to their heart, similar worries over children, insecurities, unsure futures.  More listening, more Be-ing. Realizing a personal lack of striving...a confidence in self that isn’t based on who I associate with, not focused on being friend to all…instead, intent on adding value to all. One, however, seeming so confident yet purposely avoiding my gaze.  Scrolling thru your phone when I approach, I see you. A difficult nut to crack, battles unaware, sending love instead.  Love that settles into her bones and changes the way she sees the world, love that dissolves judgment, comparison, fear, negativity…endless amounts of falsely protective walls. I don’t need to be your friend, your bestie…but I can appreciate you and expect good things for you.

Head hit the pillow hard that evening… thoughts, conversations spinning.

Grateful. Uplifted by lifting up others…Satisfied. 

Petty Stuff

There are 30 homes on my sleepy street and each Halloween, we share a lil Boo.  Bags of goodies are left on the doorstep with instructions to share with others.  Paper ghosts mark the homes already ‘Boo-ed’.  Only a few short years ago, (I’m embarrassed to admit) I’d carry much pride in initiating the Boo-trend here on Tree Hollow but would carry instant angst if someone else began their own circuit…marked clearly by a different ghost.  I remember that gut kick, knee jerk, icky-ugly reaction of gall like it was last Halloween. Utterly disgusted that someone else would compete…

This week, I drove past a neighbor home this week and saw the familiar Boo ghost posted and had such JOY…I remember the kids shrieking when the doorbell rang and discovered the mystery basket dropped at our doorstep. Sweet little things. What was missing this time was the angst…no longer caring if I was the ground-breaker or not. Feeling instantly silly for ever caring. What changed?  Am I filled with more joy? Has my focus shifted to bigger and better things?  Embarrassed that I ever cared that much for something so very insignificant, I pondered, what else no longer carries angst? What other petty stuff no longer concerns me? Then, what petty stuff am I currently carrying that will seem silly in 5, 10, 15 years?  An inventory seems in order…or at least a fresh awareness of that instant gut kick, knee jerk, icky-ugly reaction that rears its head from seemingly no where at all.

What other petty stuff troubles me?

And how quickly can I purge….because JOY feels so much better.