Author’s Note: I found this blog on my computer, written last April, but not published until today.
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Writing has become difficult these days. My brain races from topic to topic. One thing I know is that it would be really easy to list the things I don’t have.
- I lost my job today. I don’t have a rainy day fund. Like California, my bank account is in a drought.
- My son may be heading to prison next month. Mental illness combined with addiction just SUCKS. Just when things are going well, “it” comes out and bites you bad, knocks the breath out of you and feels like acid on your tongue.
- The divorce is still not f-ing finished even though we separated almost seven years ago.
- I grieve after putting my goofy big dog down in February because he had a brain tumor.
- Mom is in the hospital again with a blood clot. Not good.
Lucky for me there is something deep down that that moves me and keeps me from getting stuck. “It’s not my style to be negative,” I say when people ask me how I persevere. Don’t get me wrong. I have moments and sometimes days when I slip into sadness. I am human. I walk that fine line; fearing the fall into another depression. (the sticky dark pit)
My strategy? Every day I live what I speak and my strategy is to focus on my choices. Without choices I WOULD feel hopeless. I would be stuck and probably dead.
I ask myself, “If I don’t like it, can I make a change? Will I practice gratitude or wallow in negativity? “
- The Job—I won’t get caught without an emergency fund again. I will find a new job and make good use of the time off.
- My Son—I can’t describe the pain I feel when my son struggles. It is a visceral ache with no remedy that I carry every waking moment and often in my dreams. Despite numerous hospitalizations and arrests, he is alive. He has his own path and purpose in this lifetime. My lesson is to love without judgment while surrendering any concept of blame or control.
- The Divorce—uhhhh. Enough already! I am going to get this done before the end of the year. Realizing I will never receive the apology I seek from the “X”, I can forgive myself and then celebrate my courage, integrity and endurance.
- Bosco—you were one of a kind dog and so many warm memories remain. I did everything I could but you told me it was OK when you stopped wanting to take walks or tear up the garbage.
- Mom– we can spend time together and I can try to help without the pressure of working.
What else will I do?
I will dance
I will cocoon.
I will laugh.
I will sleep.
I will give.
I will learn.
I will breathe.
I remember the day I understood that MY happiness was strictly MY responsibility. I had been...
I love that I can make myself laugh. Yesterday I was cleaning my computer and found a folder called “assholeness”. I invented this word (no surprise, huh?) because I wanted a way to describe and quantitate the degree of unacceptable behavior displayed by my son’s sperm donor. Surprisingly there is nothing in the folder but I am keeping it around for the chuckle factor. I am also acutely aware that anything I put in writing may be used against me in the “un-divorce” so I’m attempting to take the high road. (attempting is the operative word, thank you very much.)
Then there are the funny things I say like, “If you dressed me like a bag of Skittles, I’d be cranky
too”. And, “Do my bunions look big in these sandals?” I never thought those words would come out of this mouth but I speak the truth. I don’t much like my aging feet but they keep me dancing so at least I can outfit them in cute sandals. Or take a look at my latest Selfie! I wanted to get my shirt and sandals in the same shot and find it hysterical the way the photo came out. I feel like I look—a bloated tropical flower! I know you are now looking at my bunions. Please stop.
Visiting my Mom at the hospital I overhear the nurses debriefing during a shift change. The patient in the room next door is there because of a duck attack. What? Did they say a D-U-C-K attack? I confirm with the nurse, without looking too nosey, that indeed it was a duck attack. How much damage can a duck do? She tells me it was a pet duck but that she is prohibited by patient privacy from saying any more. I see her giggle as she leaves the room. You can’t make this stuff up. That is the stuff nightmares are made of!
It is a good thing I am better at finding humor, especially during stressful times. My default method was to stuff my emotions until I exploded! Stress impacts both our physical and mental health. Have you ever thought about the impact of “Second Hand Stress”? I hadn’t put much thought into this concept until I heard a news story regarding a study done by Sara Waters at University of California San Francisco showing that babies could not only detect when a mother was stressed, the baby also started to demonstrate “stressed behavior”. “By knowing how this happens, we can start being mindful of both what we’re putting out, but also how people around us are affecting us,” Waters said.
So are we more influenced by our “stressed out” loved
ones than a stranger? Yes, in fact it was said that we are four times more likely to be influenced by the stress of a loved one, coworker, friends or a roommate than a stranger.
Trying to do more, do better, do faster while making my life look effortless, stress became my drug of choice. If I was stressed, I was important. Didn’t all successful people have stress? So my stress manifested with short...
When I entered high school, I had very little coordination and hated to run anywhere except to the JC Penny sale rack but I wanted more than anything to be an athlete. The thought of playing on a team was likely my ticket to “coolville” because being smart was often a lonely place. Basketball was out—too much running. Softball required being outside which in Michigan could mean snow or tropical heat in the same week. I chose volleyball. The lesser-est of all evils!
Initially the practices were killer but I loved the camaraderie and the sense of complete physical exhaustion. I felt so cool or should I say FOXY wearing my knee pads around my ankles with short gym shorts!! I was relieved when I didn’t make the starting line-up, I still got to wear a uniform, but I was TERRIFIED of looking bad and/or making mistake. I sucked at volleyball and as I became more and more uncomfortable, there was only one solution.
I had to quit.
On the car ride home I mentioned to my Dad that I was going to quit and boy did he blow a gasket! He told me, “So if you want to be a quitter, quit. If you stick with it, you will have the satisfaction of knowing you did the right thing. Everyone, even a bench warmer, has an important role on the team.” We never discussed it again. He had put the ball in my court. (Ha, ha, pun intended)
Lesson number one: Finish what you start.*
So what did I do? I finished the season; partially because I didn’t want to disappoint my Dad but also because I knew at 15 that I needed practice honoring my commitments. The only time I played in a real match I somehow managed to score a point for the other team. How in the hell that happened I will never know! Luckily we were so far ahead it didn’t matter. MORTIFIED I made it through the embarrassment.
Lesson number two: Practice laughing at yourself. It sure comes in handy!
Fast forward thirty odd years to the present day and déjà vu. I want to quit before the end of the season!
On my “wouldn’t it be great fun” list, I joined a ladies salsa team. If you ever danced salsa you know that it is a very athletic activity! Not only does the music give me “Happy Feet”, I get the chance to hang out with great ladies (most of whom I could be there mother) and exercise once a week for ninety minutes. The class culminates with two public performances at the end of April.
The problem is, I talk much better than I dance! How do I know? Most of our practices are videotaped! Yeah for technology but @$#%@$ for seeing my mistakes in HD. It feeds the Bitchy Becky voice in my head who squawks, “You really should quit before you make a fool of yourself. You are letting the team down. Girlfriend, it is time to hang up your sequins and exit stage left.”
I love the stage but I don’t love feeling like the weakest member of the team. I also feel fat and old. There, I had to say it...
A few weeks from now I will turn 50 years old. Exactly half of my life has taken place in California as a wife, a mother and a professional. I can’t say that I am sad or depressed about this milestone because life just keeps getting better!
Fifty begins an exciting decade—a different story. I am embarking on life as a single person, living life on new terms. If I had to describe myself now, I would be a kaleidoscope. Tiny unrelated objects and broken pieces, symbolizing the remnants of life’s lessons, are thrown together to form intricate patterns when they dance amongst the mirrors. Constantly tumbling yet forming stunning artistry when held to the light. Light is required to see the beauty I hold inside!
I could sit and complain about hardships, lost opportunities and broken promises but I refuse to go there. Yes, I have weak moments when I have to gripe so don’t call me a liar! On those days I remember that the better wine comes from old vines!
I am a kaleidoscope. I am a fine wine. I am happy. Fifty is not the new “F” word, unless of course “F” stands for FABULOUS! Thank Goodness I am Fabulous!
From the heart,
Cara
For something new, I attended a meditation meeting with theme of “creating space”. My mind immediately raced ahead, trying to anticipate what wisdom the speaker would reveal. (This is why I really need meditation in my life — to quiet my monkey mind).
Would this space be a protective bubble from all that is negative?
Would this be the space be a room or place of one’s own for quiet reflection?
Would the space be related to emotional space?
Were there ways I could create space or a presence in someone else’s life?
It is as simple as this. The speaker described “space” as a moment when it is just you connecting to your breath. Space is a moment when you settle down into your core and “check in”.
We Americans are addicted to activity. We look at sitting still and doing nothing as lazy, weird and uncomfortable. We even multitask rather than focus on one particular activity at a time. We watch mind numbing television to zone out. I can relate to how difficult it is to do nothing but is “creating space” really doing nothing? NO, it is a conscious act of surrender. A very important SOMETHING!
Here is how I plan to sneak in more space in my day.
I will get up a little earlier each morning to enjoy my coffee to the sound of the birds rather than the morning news.
I will not overschedule myself with activities.
I will have an electronics free evening once a week.
I will breathe deeply when I stand in line, am placed on hold or wait for a document to load.
Space can be enjoyed in seconds and minutes, hours and days.
May the space I create for myself, help provide ample light to illuminate the beauty of my being.
Today someone asked me how I had changed since my younger years. My answer was that I have not changed but rather I have fully settled into who I am; letting my authentic self be revealed.
Find space, dear friends, and thrive!
From the heart,
Cara
Artwork found at Simply Sitting Blog titled “Taming the Monkey Mind”
I couldn’t help but love this poem by Rumi. I have so many things to write about this week that I am having trouble settling on just one idea. In the meantime, enjoy this quiet reflection titled, “Guest House”.
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This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
What a night! Attending a dinner party on a school night seemed like such an illicit affair! Delicious food and even more delicious company! We sat at the dining room table and used the good china! I wouldn’t have cared if we had been served frozen waffles on paper plates. I am grateful for the opportunity to relax and enjoy each other’s company.
There was a spiritual kinship amongst the guests; five women who have reinvented themselves at least once if not twice in their lives. Women who shine because they possess the fine quality of being authentic; comfortable in the skin they embody.
At 7pm, a gong sound rang out and our “Hostess with the Mostess” let us in on a wonderful new practice. At the same time every day, the gong sound reminds her to stop and say a blessing for her friends. WOW—uber cool!
She learned of this practice while visiting a college friend and wanted to pass it along to us. This is the ultimate “hostess gift”. If you have read some of my previous blog posts, you know I proselytize the “power of the pause”!!! I absolutely love it this idea and thought I’d pass it along to you.
Let me share a few more notes from our gathering. We agreed that kindness never gets old. We discussed the importance of a “friendship network” and how confidence is the sexiest quality in a person.
Remember the phrase, “Be careful what you wish for!” I am a firm believer that the intentions you put out to the Universe will be answered but I was advised that the intentions I speak of may not be specific enough. Holy smokes, thank you. As a result, I made an appointment with the Universe today and restated my intentions in very specific terms! Phew.
I am reminded of a story where a blind man was granted one wish. You would imagine he would ask for his sight but his wish was as follows and I paraphrase, “I wish to be standing on the roof of my mansion, covered in gold, watching my many grandchildren play in the vast garden.” Was he greedy? Maybe but the moral of the story is to ask for exactly what you want. Just sayin!
Today I felt a renewed sense of creativity. Was it the result of the gathering? YES! The people you surround yourself with can lift you up or drain you. Be selective with your time.
You are your most valuable resource.
Thank you, ladies!
From the heart,
Cara
Photo credit: spiritsentient.com
So Sadness Enhances Creativity?
I was listening to a radio interview on the topic of creativity and one statement stuck in my brain. Four days later and I’m still thinking about the theory that sad people are the most creative people. At first I thought of tortured artists like Van Gough and Pollack but weren’t they dealing with more than mere sadness? OK, perhaps I am getting too analytical.
When I was sad, I didn’t feel the creative spirit pouring out of me. I was tired and cried all the time. My most creative venture was getting dressed—if there was anything clean to wear! If I was really creative I could a make dinner out of supplies in the pantry.
Why would sadness unleash creativity? My theory is that the INNER CRITIC voice may be dampened to the degree that creativity sees an opening and feels safe to explore.
Blessings did arise from my sadness. Through cognitive behavior therapy, I learned how to work with my emotions and completely embrace myself. I am a work in progress, don’t get me wrong, but I start each day grounded in gratitude and seeking happiness.
My Girlfriend Voice (MGV) came to light during my sadness. I noticed I had this soothing, compassionate voice in my head. For example, if I was contemplating how to handle a snarky comment from my former boss my MGV would say, “You can go down to their level or just let it go. You’ll make the right choice”. The choice was mine. I love having choices!
Had I listened to my inner critic that day, it probably would have said, “Here we go again. Why do you put up with this crap? Why don’t you have a new job? Are you too lazy to look for one? You should…… Why don’t you…. OMG! Loser.”
I came to realize that the words the inner critic was delivering to my head were so harsh, things I would never dare utter out loud to another person. Why would I talk to myself in such an abusive way? My inner-dialogue, lacking any sort of compassion or trust, shredded my self-confidence and squashed my objectivity. It was a form of self-mutilation because words are weapons.
The more I listen to MGV, the less I hear from my inner critic!!
It would be unrealistic to think I could completely eliminate my inner critic. Perhaps there is something important buried in those harsh words? Again, it is my choice to take what I want and leave the rest behind. I’ve tried giving my inner critic an appointment time– like the DMV. I tell her I’ll listen with undivided attention as long as what she says is helpful, kind or beneficial. I’m not into whining or belittling but rather finding a solution. Funny, she hasn’t come to call nearly as often. ♥
From the heart,
Cara
My Sadness is a Verb not a Noun
“Scratch her and she’ll bleed sadness.” Wouldn’t that be a great opening line for a novel? Truth is stranger than fiction. This is my story.
When I feel sadness, I am immediately fearful. Is this the sadness that feels like a wet fur coat in July? Is it the same sadness that sat on my chest and poked me until I cried? No. This is different. My current sadness is a verb; not a noun.
(Titled depression_by_thecruelone-sensum)
A few years ago, I toppled into a clinical depression. I remember sitting in the ER while my son was being treated and something popped. It was like the last bubble of resolve in my brain expired and I was overcome by darkness. My heart ran out of blood. I tumbled into unknown territory so fast I couldn’t identify what I was going through. It was hard to breathe. I was a shadow of my former self.
In the beginning I was extremely successful hiding depression from everyone close to me. As my depression continued, it got to the point where I had trouble leaving my house. Frankly I had trouble doing anything except crying. I raged at myself and the feelings of inadequacy—if I were smarter, somehow different, worked less, exercised more ….. if (insert anything her) then I wouldn’t feel so hopeless.
I was living on CONTINGENCY. As long as everyone else was doing well, I was doing well! Things were falling apart fast and based on this system, I too would become a casualty. I was taking zero time for myself, not only for self-care but time for feeding my passions. I was living for my kids, had my identity tied up in my job and felt invisible in my marriage. Kaboom. There she blows! I had nothing to ground me in the storm.
Depression affects all people regardless of geography, socio-economic status and age. Women are twice as likely to suffer from depression; often stemming from an inability to process or express anger. In the midst of depression, it feels like a glass divider separates you from the world. Help is just too far away or you don’t feel worthy of the help.
Depression is a pit of despair. The walls are high enough to keep you trapped inside and out of sight.
Now when I feel the sadness running through me but it doesn’t knock me down or overwhelm me. Why? I am giving myself permission to sit with “uncomfortable” feelings. From this struggle I will grow. I am confident of that fact.
I have learned to give myself permission to feel. Everyone struggles!!! I take care of the little girl inside, craving to be healed. I am pursuing my passions. I laugh, I sleep, I dance. I work really hard and play even harder.
If you walk in the rain, you get wet. This is how I describe my current...
When I Count My Blessings I Count You Twice
I have a plaque with this phrase hanging by my front door. Every time I come and go, I am reminded that my blessings outweigh my struggles. Focus on the good stuff—–
Lately I’ve had to remind myself of my many blessings because the past two weeks have been hell– laden with struggles. I am being tested! My Girlfriend Voice consoles me and agrees with my plan. In order to take care of myself, I will pull back on my social commitments and activities. I tell myself, “Put on your oxygen mask first before assisting another passenger”. Slow down. Recalibrate. Listen to your body. Indulge in a little self-care.
In the past I equated struggling with being weak and dammit, I AM NOT WEAK. If I didn’t solve each and every problem–figure things out– then I was a failure. Struggling was NOT ACCEPTABLE. Stupid people struggle. Incompetent people struggle. Struggle = weak = failure.
“Never see her sweat,” was my motto but it was exhausting to operate as the perfect woman. I didn’t allow myself to see how unrealistic it was to be a super hero Mom, supportive friend, patient wife and creative business woman all at the same time. Talk about setting myself up for crisis!
Fortunately I learned and now believe that struggling is an accelerator of growth. Struggling is the indicator light on my dashboard that it is time to pause.
On Thursday night I admitted to my friends that I was in a vulnerable place and needed a quiet weekend for self-care so I cancelled our plans. It reinforced what I already knew —- I have phenomenal friends! Friends, who despite what struggles they are going through, such as the death of a parent or unreasonable job expectations, offer to help ME. I can call on them for a late night chocolate delivery, a shoulder to cry on, a belly laugh, retail therapy—you name it. They are there for me, just a phone call (or text) away. No worries about being judged or criticized. My gals got my back!
What is even better is that my friends don’t rely on my drama to feel important. They don’t require updates, solutions, or explanations. They are not trying to fix, save or remodel me. One gal pal in particular is so good at asking me, “do you want me to strictly listen or are you looking for advice?” Sometimes I just want to say (scream) things out loud and have her listen to my ramblings. Sometimes I need her advice. Sometimes I want to hear about her life so I can momentarily forget about mine.
Living an imperfect but perfectly authentic life is so refreshing! To my girlfriends……THANK YOU. You are my SOUL SISTERS of SOLACE! Your Girlfriend Voices have comforted me more than you know!
How do you feel about struggling? What is your support system?...
The Thrill is in the Hunt
I love to shop at thrift stores, garage sales and consignment stores for clothing and home furnishings. I know what I don’t want and I’ll know what I want when I see it. Makes sense, right? Lucky me, it was half price day at one of my favorites stores.
There it was, calling to me, from the “ART” section.
Twilight in the desert
A lonely stretch of road; illuminated by a single vehicle
A Kenmore Mack truck lights up the barren sky
“Breaker-breaker, good buddy! Do ya copy?”
Yes, I bought a painting of an 18 wheeler! The best part is that when you plug in this delicious canvas, light shines out of twenty punched holes filled with yellow and red Christmas lights. My Mack truck lights up the desert night sky like beacon of hope! Bingo. I hit the mother lode for $11.25.
In reference to my living room, I could wait until I find a respectable or even inspirational piece of art to fill the space above my fireplace or I can hang something that makes me happy right now. How often do I/you search for SOMETHING to fill a space, discarding viable options, when there is something right in front of me/us that makes perfect sense?
I had found THE HAPPY TRUCK and it was meant to adorn my wall.
There were years when I was looking for happiness. I wanted to unload the “UN-happy”. I needed a fix.
It was much easier to push the blame outwardly than to dive inwardly and take responsibility for my situation. “If you only did this or stopped doing this, I would be happier.” NOT. Luckily I woke up and decided that something had to change. I stepped into the truth and started to look at ME.
I was the one that needed to change.
Slowly and often painfully, I looked at MY actions — the only thing I have control over. I didn’t like most of what I saw in there. The truth hurts but I needed to make an inventory. I made changes where I could, baby steps, until I felt grounded. It took a few years to believe that I was responsible for my own happiness and then a few more years to put my new perspective into practice and leap into a new life.
I define my happiness.
My happiness is not dependent on you.
I am responsible for my own happiness.
Happiness is not an all or nothing situation. For instance, I am quite happy sitting under my blanket despite that I have been sick since Tuesday with a monstrous cold. I am happy the white load got washed and put away even though I have two more loads to go. I am happy that my Frig is clean even though it means eggs for dinner (again!) or a trip to the store later.
I grab at happiness, drape it over me and let the other stuff go.
Someday I’d like to create a piece of art to hang on the hearth but there is no excuse for not enjoying what I have today.
“Catch you on the flip side and...
It’s a Good Thing I Like You
“It’s a good thing I like you.” Have you ever caught yourself using that phrase? I have said it when a friend was late meeting me for dinner but she didn’t have any good reason for her tardiness. I thought, “It’s a good thing I like you.” I said the same thing when my dog ate my cinnamon roll as I turned my back to grab the phone. I said it to my son when he forgot to pick me up from the library. He is damn lucky I like him!
Have I ever applied, “it’s a good thing I like you” to myself? To my own actions? Easy answer. I have said it to myself only once and it just so happened last week.
Last Sunday I headed out to my Salsa practice. Since it was the weekend, I took extra time getting ready. I was feeling pretty damn sexy in a black lace outfit when I headed out the door. Well, it didn’t take long before I was snapped out of the sexy zone into an OMG zone. You see spinning around, my heel caught on the back hem of my skirt, pulling the whole thing down to mid-thigh in one smooth motion! Now, my first thought was, “Thank goodness you have on nice panties!” followed quickly by, “It’s a good thing I can laugh at myself!!!”. Who would have known that a wardrobe malfunction would have turned out to be such a positive thing?
I find that I’m a more forgiving of others foibles than I am of my own. What about life has conditioned this response? Rather than debate the origin, it is easier to focus on the benefits of applying “self-like”.
I find I am more present. I am less reactive and far more responsive. I am more confident.
Suggested thoughts—try it out and see how it fits!
- I like you and you are worthy of love and happiness.
- I like you just the way you are. You are beautiful.
- I like you. You are capable and compassionate.
“It’s a good thing I like you because you still haven’t put those Christmas decorations away!” said me to myself!
This is another way My Girlfriend Voice speaks to me. How does your Girlfriend Voice speak to you?
From the heart,
Cara
