Tuesday that feels like Monday

Even though today was Tuesday, on many levels it felt like Monday. Maybe because it was my first day back to work this week or because I was ooooh soooo tired which I am sure heightened my sensitivity to everything around me. I found myself feeling critical of others, but I also felt justified at times... which I am sure is not a good combination and will lead nowhere good...

In general, I really do try to be kind to other people, to not throw out my judgments or participate in idle or cruel gossip. I know that I wasn't always like that... When I was younger, and full of my own extreme insecurities, I could be quick to cut someone else down behind their back. I do try not to be so catty now... but have you ever come into contact with someone who just rubs you the wrong way and you can't help harboring ill thoughts about them?

At the gym where I work, there are a lot of affluent members. Most don't flaunt it but once in a while you witness someone looking down their nose. They can't quite treat you as they would a friend of equal status, because you work at the gym versus being a member. They hold themselves just above you, conveying their superiority whenever your paths do cross.

I find that with these type of people, I either kill them with kindness... making them feel like crap for being so smug. Or I go out of my way to hold myself above them by not making eye contact, ignoring their presence, or the-real-kicker by being in better shape than they are... he he he.

In the end though, I know they act the way they do because they are insecure and afraid. They puff themselves up to accentuate what they have that I don’t, only to conceal what they don’t have, which is confidence and a love for themselves.

Wandering from Home - Part 1

I was thrilled when my sister-in-law Wendy invited me on a trip to the Grand Canyon. Sure, sure, sure... I will hike it with you... No problem!! But what started out as a girl's weekend away, turned out incredibly different. We embarked upon a bona fide adventure, that challenged us more than expected with quite a few lessons learned. Some of these lessons came the hard way, but I wouldn't trade any of them. The obstacles we overcame, revealed a part of ourselves we had not known before.

Day 1 - Friday, April 9, 2010

With my kiddos off to school, I packed up my gear and headed off. I was supposed to leave home around 11:00 AM, but being the girl I am, I didn't manage to set off until 1:30. But I had no real deadline, so it felt good for once to not have to worry about being anywhere at any set time or screaming and cursing at someone because I was late yet again.

My first destination was Kingman, Arizona, where my brother and sister-in-law live with their three children. Now ironically, my brother was traveling to my house with his kiddos AS I traveled to his home. So all six wild-and-out-of-control cousins and three hyper dogs would be at my house with the two husbands for the weekend, and I would be with my sister-in-law, just the two of us, existing in perfect harmony and peace. Sometimes the planets just align...

Needless to say, I was floating on a cloud as I headed out of Phoenix through Wickenburg, so much so that I began to nod off as I was driving. I knew that I was extremely sleep deprived... I hadn’t managed to get more than fours hours of sleep in a given night over the last three weeks. Now I could have pulled over and rested, but I would have had to sleep for at least eight hours on the side of the road in order to not be in a state of dozing off... so I pushed on.

I sent out a few texts hoping for some company on the road. I heard back from my sister Jen, who reminded me to be careful texting while driving... Which I know to be dangerous, and irresponsible, and bad, and wrong, but I do it anyway sometimes... sorry, but at least I am honest... and I don’t do it with my kids in the car... scout’s honor. That way I could turn up my music really loud, put the AC on high, set the cruise control and still carry on a conversation. I believed all of these components were necessary to stay awake.

Lesson of the Week

What I learned this week... Well even though I keep hearing it, I keep experiencing it, I keep hurting because of it (for years now).... I was unable to believe it. Once I begrudgingly resigned myself to accept it though... my pain, fear and emotional turmoil was lightened (No no no... not entirely removed, that would be asking too much, but close enough and I am grateful for that.)

Here IT is.... There is NO human being that I know or will ever know that can fulfill me, make me happy or meet my needs. The more I think and believe that another person can do these things for me, the more I am discontented with myself and my relationships. When I accept that the only way for me to have peace, happiness, fulfillment is to give my life over to God and let him lead. He is the ONLY certainty that I can ever completely count on. He will always love me unconditionally, even with my countless and ever emerging flaws.

Off and on all week, I was thrown a curve here or there by people in my life. My reactions ranged from anger and sadness to anxiety and disappointment. But I was actually able to curtail those emotions from developing into full blown tantrums, cuss outs or target practice.

I recognized my feelings, acknowledged that they were valid (at least somewhat), and allowed myself to feel them. Then I remembered that I didn’t need to go over the edge, because I have a power much greater than myself that will give me peace and solutions. I have a power that will put all right with the world. Just by knowing and remembering that things would work out, that I would be loved no matter the outcome, I was able to let go of my emotional baggage. I do not have to feel let down, lonely or worried when I put my faith in God.

Now putting too much faith in a human being, well that is an entirely different story... a trap we all fall into from time to time. Certainly we should and do believe in each other, but if we base our self-worth and happiness on another person, then we are likely to be miserable, if not immediately, it will eventually happen. Lets face it... nobody is even close to perfect and nobody wants exactly what we want. So even when I felt wronged, I was able to know that it would work out, that I need not feel destroyed, despondent or hopeless. Instead I felt assured and peaceful; I smiled from the inside out.

Oh and let me not forget to share lesson #2... when you drive away too fast in a blue minivan, turns out you don’t look all I-gotta-need-for-speed. Whoever happens to be watching your display of raw V6 power, just thinks you are mad... Go figure? I have to laugh at myself for that one... I’m such a dork!

Walking on the Edge

I scan the surface of the grey-blue face, seeking the longest most challenging path to the top. My first grip doesn’t hold as I attempt to heft myself up with one foot jammed into a crevasse. Running my fingers along the ridges of the rock, I hope to find a lip that will provide more leverage for my next attempt.

Pulling and pushing at once, I lift off the ground, pressing my cheek against the smooth, cool stone. Ever scanning for my next hand hold, I know I cannot remain in one position too long. Already I feel my left toe slipping, loosing its grasp. My mind focuses, exploring the possibilities, thrill surging my pulse.

Moving on without hesitation, maintaining three points of contact, I quickly scale the 15 feet to the first landing. Balancing on one foot and then the other, I feel my breath catch with excitement as I teeter on the edge and then move on to the next and highest ledge.

Looking out over the pool that awaits, fear seeps in. Excitement, rushes through my veins, reflexively turning up the corners of my mouth. To calm myself, I chatter on to onlookers, to myself. What do I fear most? The distance, the impact? No... the cold, definitely the cold.

In mid-sentence, I step off the edge, surprising the witnesses... myself. I hear a scream of joy, of fear, of ecstasy, echoing off the cliff, my scream. As I plummet into the icy water, my knees pull up into a ball, my arms pull down to slow my descent. Enveloped by the clear emerald waters, the suns rays pierce the surface, illuminating the four feet of water above my head. It is like gazing up through a massive green marble.

A succession of resolute and furious kicks send me bursting through the river’s surface. My lungs gasp, not so much for air but in reaction to the crushing cold. Half way to the bank my chest seizes to the chill, I can not breath. My too-often-taken-for-granted arms and legs do not fail, but carry me to the bank. With unexpected effort, I crawl from the water. Falling upon the beach in exhaustion, I wrap myself in the warmth of the sand, struggling for breath, laughing for joy, beaming from ear to ear, gratefully knowing I am alive.

Crippled by Indecision

Recently someone tried to impart me with the knowledge that the most precarious place we can exist is in a state of indecision. For in this position we are not only miserable, but we are not growing or moving forward in our lives.

If we are faced with what seems like a life altering decision, having to chose A over B can be overwhelming, almost crippling. It can seem utterly impossible to decide which is the best choice? Which will result in the least negative consequences? Which will hurt more or less, to ourselves and others? In the long run which is the right and best thing to do?

Sometimes the actual state of indecision seems less painful or fraught than either of the possible choices. So we remain in this unresolved place, hoping for a solution through fate or revelation.

When I was younger, I was faced with a choice that I felt could alter my future irreparably. Though I had always planned to attend college after high school and structured my studies accordingly, I came to a point when I was unsure if that was actually what I should do.

I became involved in a relationship with a boy that was not very healthy. He was controlling and abusive, but at that time in my life, I was deeply in love. He stated in no uncertain terms that if I chose to go off to college, he couldn’t promise he would be there when I got back. His motives were not that of honesty, but of control.

But I was left with a difficult decision: Go to college and possibly lose him or stay in my hometown with him. Obviously this may seem like a no-brainer, but he was the strongest influence in my life at that time, and even though I knew my father wanted me to go to college, he didn’t attempt to influence me with much force. And even if he had, I don’t know if I would I have given it any heed?

My Little Van Goghs

In 2002, I had the honor of working with Bay Area artist Judy Gittelsohn putting paint brushes into the hands of individuals with developmental disabilities. I wrote the grant request that went on to fund a therapeutic art program led by Judy that culminated in a gallery exhibition of some truly amazing works of art--two paintings of which hang in my upstairs hallway.

I love Judy's art and how she shares her talents. Today she continues to teach and inspire individuals with special needs through the Art for Well Beings program in Palo Alto, California.

What I learned from Judy and the years I worked with adults with developmental disabilities at Kainos was that creativity is not limited by disability. Painting increases self-esteem, boosts confidence, reduces stress, improves fine motor skills, and provides an outlet for feelings, while enhancing communication and social skills.

Art therapy is used to treat multiple conditions including bipolar, posttraumatic stress and learning disorders in children and adults. In addition to helping enhance mental and emotional health, art therapy can increase self-awareness and cognitive abilities and aid in healing traumatic emotional experiences. Art therapy can also reduce pain, tension and anxiety, and is used with patients who suffer from chronic, debilitating, and terminal illnesses.

When I asked my kiddos today if anyone wanted to paint, I got a resounding YES, YES, YESSSS! My children love any opportunity to don their paint smocks and get messy. An even greater thrill filled them when they found out they would get to use the-paints-that-don‘t-wash-out-of-your-clothes... oooooooo. With brushes in hand and paints mixed, art quieted the masses. Perfecting our canvas was a cooperative effort, in both patience (mostly mine being tried) and creativity. But the results were amazing. And for a brief period, all was tranquil in our little loony bin.

The Prodigal Daughter

Two Sundays ago, I loaded my kids in the car, picked up my sister and four-year old niece, and headed to church. Now this scene wouldn't generally seem strange, but I haven't personally been to church for more years than I care to state out loud, except the random wedding and well--TRUE CONFESSION: My children have NEVER been to church. Told you I was raising a bunch of heathens... cringe and judge me if you must... I am sure I deserve that.

Many moons ago, I ended a relationship with someone who was physically, verbally and emotionally abusive and the Catholic church that I was a member of at the time made me feel, in no uncertain terms, that my leaving him was unacceptable... well I SPITEFULLY turned my back on my church, organized religion and God.

I spent years with a spiritual void growing ever greater inside of me. In my heart, even though I publicly denied it, I needed, wanted, craved a spiritual connection. At first my anger caused me to withdraw from what had always been a certainty in my life. Then I became openly reproachful, thinking I was smarter than or somehow above religion.

But I always felt an emptiness. This cavity grew, leaving me feeling hollow and hopeless. But I continued to feel a pull. And slowly but surely I have found my way back, in little bits and pieces. Peace is settling back into my heart, and I feel hope in a way that gives me new purpose.

So what does my 12-year old say when I asked her, “What did you think of the service?”

It’s tricky being angry and grateful in the same breath

I just want to check and see if it is OK if I openly hate all men this week? Sorry guys... I just need to embrace my anger and go with it. Nothing personal really. It's not ALL men, just the one's I have managed to come in contact with this week. Self-centered, arrogant, clueless, BS...

I have been going to AA meetings since January, and it has been a great source of peace and spirituality for me. It is amazing how you can share the most intimate details of your life with a room full of complete strangers just because you are all drunks. As someone put it so eloquently, "I wouldn't drink with most of you people, but I'll get sober with you."

So I’ve spent a lot of time soul searching and sometimes crying at these meetings over the last couple months. I have disclosed vague details of the demise of my male relationships that has occurred recently. And when I got tired of feeling sorry for myself and whining at every meeting, well I shifted into a rage. And that is how I am feeling now.... pissed. Wanting to scream at the top of my lungs, pound on the walls, pissed.

And to top off the ‘I hate MEN’ week that I’m having... tonight this guy who I’ve seen in the past at meetings, asks me for my phone number right in the middle of the meeting... He starts to explain that he too has just gone through a rough relationship break up and for him the thing that helped most was to talk to people, so he thought maybe I wanted to talk sometime or get some coffee and discuss what I 'm going through... ARE YOU KIDDING ME? REALLY?? Do I look like I just fell off a dumb truck...??

But in lue of anger or pain, pounding and screaming, tears and hatred, and utter head-shaking disbelief, I am choosing to be grateful. Grateful for all the men in my life that are wonderful and truly keep me sane.

I am grateful for my father who is one of the kindest men I know. I am thankful for my oldest brother for believing that Life is but a Dream, my middle brother who I love to go camping with, and my baby brother who felt my pain as deeply as I did.

I am truly appreciative of my children’s father (even when he was on my hit list at times this week) for being a great dad, for my brother-in-law for looking out for me, and for my guy friends who love me for me and never expect more. And I am ever grateful for my grandpa Max, who I named my son after, for buying me my first BB gun, teaching me how to fish, telling me stories, and always making me smile. Miss you Grandpa...

I actually feel much better now. It’s a bit tricky being angry and grateful in the same breath. And it is impossible to hate ALL men. Honestly I don’t really hate anyone... sorry I even thought that out loud. I just don’t like hurting and weeping and fuming, so I am choosing to let that tornado of emotions go... I cried, I raged, I forgave. Now I’m moving on.

Two-week and One-day Stay at the Lunatic Lodge

For one week now, the three little people in my life have brawled and squawked, screamed and grumbled on and on about one another. The oldest baits the youngest, the middle child wails, someone pushes, another shoves. They scratch, taunt and glare as I beg them to get along... and the beat goes on. We are blessed with a two-week plus one extra day spring break here in Chandler. Oh joy...

Not a moment’s peace... one week was manageable, I filled the time with my limited budget, but two weeks and a day... are they insane? And the week they return, they have Monday off, go back for three days and are off again on Friday.

Even if I had a limitless budget, I couldn’t possibly keep them busy enough. My children honestly spend more time and effort combating each other than they do on any other pursuit. This morning it was the wrongful accusation of a stolen doll, tattle-tailing about un-brushed teeth, and, “It’s not fair, they won’t let me be the caboose! I want to play choo-choo too!”

Our afternoon frolic to the park, was rained out... and as I write I can hear pounding feet on the second floor and the high pitched squeal of my son... delight or rage? That is yet to be determined... I better go check.

After checking, it turns out that it was my younger daughter who was screaming. When I inquired what the problem was, she started sniveling that, “They were laughing at me.”

“Well, isn’t that better than them throwing things at you,” I say trying to make light of the situation, salvaging what had been a 1-hour long stint with negligible fighting.

Finding myself Single

A few days ago as I was writing a blog post and roaming the Internet until 3:00 in the morning, I noticed that my husband had changed his 'Relationship Status' on Facebook to Single.

He only did this a couple weeks ago, but I started wondering who else had seen this. And not that it mattered who has seen it, but it is kind of strange that I didn't notice it for days. But if it's out on Facebook, well then it is fair game Hon and I can write about it here on my blog... I promise to be nice :-)

I wasn’t going to write about it directly. I wanted to keep it private for now and just skirt around it. But anyone who knows me and has seen any of my recent articles, may have read between the lines and wondered what was going on anyway...

In October, we will have been married for 15 years. We have known each other for over 18 years... and we have three wonderful children. When you get a divorce (yes... that’s right we are getting a divorce) it is your children you worry about the most. You stay together and keep trying long after you should have thrown in the towel and stopped making each other miserable... because of the children.

At least I know that my husband and I will remain partners for life in raising and supporting our children even after our divorce. My oldest daughter already knows, and seems to be handling it ok. When we told her it was almost as if she already knew and was somewhat relieved. Kids aren‘t fooled by our idiotic attempts to pretend something is what it isn’t. We have both talked with her, making sure she can say or ask whatever she needs without ever blaming herself for our failure.