I want what I want

Stressful situations often make me feel powerless.

Powerless because I cannot change them, or at least change them right away and waiting is the worst thing in the world when things are not right.

Every little twinge looms menacingly dark and overwhelming when I am waiting.

I try living only in the moment, but sometimes the moment encompasses my insecurity about the future.

I've tried believing that what I want, or something better will eventually come out of all this, but that is hard to imagine, because what I want is all I want -- right now. 

That is when I need to remember that I haven't always imagined all the possibilities in the past and there is no reason to believe I am now.

It takes a little faith to wait and see, but even a little drop of faith can go a long way.

Aristotle

I often speak of simplifying things when I write.  I like the idea of happily ever afters and minimalist solutions.

Unfortunately life is generally not so basic.  There are highs and lows and a million places in between.  Slice into an onion and the tears begin to flow as all those layers start to make themselves known.

Each one butts up against another as they curl round and round to form that sphere I call an onion.  One cut shakes the whole thing up, the juice seeps out, the aroma wafts up, the slices fall apart and it would seem that chaos rules.

Yet out of that chaos comes a flavor that vastly improves everything from spaghetti to omelets.  It is worth the trouble, but that doesn't mean I have to go around slicing into onions all the time, just because I can.

Aristotle said, "What it lies in our power to do, it lies in our power not to do."  That is worth thinking about.  It is a very powerful choice to have.

Foolish

Every time I start feeling better I get carried away and do something that makes things worse.

That should be a good lesson, but the eternal optimist just keeps thinking, "This time . . ."

After a while I wonder if that is being an optimist or foolish?

Then I wonder if perhaps it is my childish enthusiasm, youthful and hopeful, but once again it circles right back around to foolish.

In the end I decide that the happiness I find in between the pain of screwing up and the joy of thinking all is well might be worth the moniker of foolish.

Foolish, after all, is better than sad, or depressed, or a thousand other things.

Fools rush in

I have a distant relative who was in the middle of a huge crisis last summer.  She had just discovered the love of her life, her husband, a very religious and good man, was both abusive and unfaithful.

Now she is happily married to a new man, a perfect man, a wonderful man!

I find this frightening.

Most marriages end because there are problems and problems are never one sided.  Poor judgement when choosing a spouse, misconceptions of who I am or he or she is, a need to enable, or control, or a million other things, lead to misery.

When something as big as a marriage (a contract most of us think we are going into for life) fails, there are so many things to look into if we don't want to repeat the same things again and again.

So, while I am not saying anything to her, I find it difficult to congratulate her either.  It seems to me she is rushing in and already on shaky ground.

The trouble with life

The trouble with life is that it is what it is.

Once in a while I forget that and think that I am in control, but that is always only partially true.

We all have free will, so no one single person is ever really the one and only.

Life is a collaboration whether I like it or not.

The first indication of that is preschool when my teacher decides if I am playing well with others, or not.  Later on when I am forced to work with others on group projects it often seems easier to just do something rather than delegate and accept another's work, but the point is that we need to learn how to work together.

Life is not so much about who is right as it is making the best of what is.

In fact, that may the secret to relative happiness: learning to make the best of all situations.

We are in this together -- the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Echoes

I thought there were causes worth dying for when I was a young woman.  Perhaps not the causes my parent's generation valued, but my own, the more peaceful ones my generation valued -- the good causes.

And so I fought what I thought was the good fight, the right one, and my heart was in the right place.  It was my actions and my words, that were not right.

I spoke of peace, of love, of acceptance, but I did not see that those things cannot be brow beaten into others -- they must be learned over time by modeling. 

I am not the person my ancestors were, but I am not the person I was either.  Change is a part of living, a part of growth, a part of learning how to make things better and it is never too late for me to do these things.

The path divides again and again, each part becoming a bit more focused, a bit more conscious, a bit wiser and my world, THE world, is better for it as the echo of the past becomes fainter and the new words, the new actions begin new ways.

But

Today was a good day  for my spirits, but the cost to my feet and ankles is turning out to be pretty bad. 

My "bad" foot is doing okay, but the good foot and ankle are throbbing.

Every step is an agony tonight. 

It would be nice if I could say, "I never want to do this or that again, but nothing happened that caused the damage to my "bad" foot.  I didn't trip, or fall, or even walk a long way.  I simply woke up with excruciating pain.

The doctor now says it could be a combination of stress fracture and rheumatoid arthritis, but we won't know for at least another month.

But . . . but . . . but . . .

Forever

I knew you before you were born.

I loved you before you ever existed. . . here in this place. . .  where we are now.

I recognized you with my heart. . . not by the color of your eyes. . . or the shape of your smile.

I knew you because of the way I felt. . . when you were near. . . or far.

I will always love you. . . in ways I will never understand. . . or ever did.
 

Beyond the loom

Thinking back on some of the things I wanted so badly I could almost taste them, I am surprised at how it all worked out.

I never found that field where cats could go to pick out their kittens.  My mother told me about it and I dreamed of it for more years than you might believe.

I never owned a Dr. Kildare shirt, or a real poodle skirt.  I never lived barefoot in the country surrounded by my home schooled children and I never sat on a sun dappled swing being pushed by my adoring husband while pregnant with our child.

There was a time when each of these things was something I thought I wanted more than anything else in the world.  They were the story of my life, written by me, for me, over many years.

My real life has been much more intricately woven and magical than anything I might have imagined.

It didn't always feel that way.  Sometimes the twists and turns of reality felt unbearable -- and yet:

I ended up having a rich and unusual life and I would never trade it for anything else.

Without some of the trials and tribulations I might not have adopted my children, or met my best friend.  I might not be living in relative comfort right now, or have experienced the wonderful freedom of so many adventures.

Sometimes it is better to let the universe control the warp and weft of a life that seems lost, or beyond control.  There truly are more things possible than I ever dared to dream of.

Silence

Life is so transient.

The only chance I have at happiness is in this moment.  Any other moment is completely out of my hands.  Of course, most of this one seems to be too.

Trying to savor the moment means letting go of so much other stuff that even the possibility seems unlikely, but perhaps this is the first lesson.

Let go for an instant and see what happens.  Maybe then I can build trust in myself, in my ability to do more.

It feels precarious.

Sometimes it even feels wrong.

But I think I can risk one second at a time.  After all, I can always go back.

Yet, that is even less appealing than this.

I watch other creatures, trying to see what they do.  The two ducks who come to my deck laid an egg this morning.  Two crows came along and ate it a short time later.  The ducks just sat in their usual place, heads tucked under their wings.  Silent. 

Who knows what this means -- if anything.

Emptiness

I am beginning to understand how a caged animal in the zoo must feel.

I have a comfortable cage, all the food I need, a space to go outside that is safe and secure and I even have access to an abundance of entertainment via television, roku, and computer, not to mention both Kindle books and a stack of regular ones.

Having spent nineteen of the last twenty days penned up in here, I am fortunate to have people who call quite frequently.

And still . . . with all this . . . life is becoming a bit hollow.

And I don't know what to do about it.

I'm not really asking for help.  Time is the only thing that will really make a difference, but I just need to vent.

Relevant

Time.  A strange little place holder I use to keep track of the events in my life and their order.

I don't think other animals need time.  They don't seem to have a need to know when something will occur in the future, or when it last occurred in their past.  If it isn't occurring in real time, it has little meaning for them.

My life has been run by a clock since I first went to kindergarten.  I was always terrified of being late for school.  I had to be present for meals at designated times.  In the long run I had to learn a musical piece by a certain time in order to play in a  concert, or plan my studies so that I graduated on a certain date.

I actually rebelled and stopped wearing a watch around 1984, but have had to resort to using one when there was no clock on the wall many times since.  Not wearing one only gives me the illusion of being freed from time.  In reality it only gives me a small leeway of several minutes due to the differences in clocks.

Still, time is relevant.  Waiting anxiously for a call from a doctor, or eagerly for a much loved friend, time can drag by slower than a snail in the snow, but let me loose myself in the fascination of a moment and it flits by in the blink of an eye.

Eager for the good parts of life and afraid of the unknown leaves me vulnerable to this thing I call time, so whether I like it or not, whether it is invented or not, it is always still relevant.

Something better this way comes

Forty five years ago today I was married for the first, last and only time.  Fifteen years ago I was divorced.

Today I sat on the deck of my apartment, enjoying a beautiful spring morning and watching my wild ducks, Clara Cluck and Donald Duck (yes I named them) eat the seed I sprinkled on the ground for them.

Life is not perfect.  I have a few health concerns and there is just enough money most of the time.  But I know something now that I didn't know forty five years ago, or fifteen years ago, or really even five years ago.

Most things are not the tragedy I think they are or might be.  In fact, given a chance, life just keeps getting better in some way or another.

I may not be able to see what the good things are that will follow this time, but I have to be careful that does not keep me focused on the negative aspects that I suspect will follow.

There are two good reasons for this.  First of all, I don't really know what negative things will come any more than I know what the good ones could be.  Secondly, the things most likely to come to pass are those things I focus on.

I struggle to be positive knowing that I can expect change and it will likely be something better coming my way.

Pick a hero

We are each of us where we are supposed to be in this moment and how we deal with that defines the next moment.

All things are true, at least in part.  It is up to the one who believes to discover the differences between that truth and dreams.

Dreams carry the dreamer until he hits the border between wakefulness and sleep, then he must choose whether or not to continue sleepwalking, or to rise and take hold of his own destiny.

No man rises without effort . . . and . . . faith in his own essential being.

History is full of those plunged into the fire again and again and again only to rise stronger each time; stronger and wiser and perhaps a bit worn.

Wear and tear becomes the badge of a true hero.  His treasure is a growing confidence in his own ability to continue rising.

Just as one cause appears lost it fades into the light of a new one rising.

So . . . pick a hero, any hero, and allow him (or her) to rise through you.

Interview with a chicken

Me:  What's it like to be a hen today?

Hen: When I was young I thought about trying to escape the hum drum lay-an-egg-a-day world of my mother.  I wanted more.

Me:  What did you do?

Hen:  I sneaked out of the pen between the feet of the feeder a few times, but they always brought me back and then once, they put me in this tiny cage where I could barely turn around.  Oh, I could eat, but I couldn't run, or look for those dainty little tidbits that crawl along the ground.  After a while they put me back out in the pen with the others.

Me:  Was there any other critical turning point in your life?

Hen: Yes!  One day I saw the feeder come into the yard without the feed.  He grabbed my friend Clara and carried her off.  Clara was the bravest friend I had.  She was always trying to escape and she refused to lay eggs for the feeder unless he set us free. I never saw her again and I have laid an egg every day since then.

Me:  Has that turned out good for you?

Hen:  Pretty much.  Once in a while the feeder lets me keep my eggs and my children have been the delight of my life.  They are truly my raison d'etre. I would do anything for them.

Me:  Do you give them any special advice?

Hen:  I tell them, always be sure to preen, lay an egg daily, and beware of a feeder without feed.

Me:  How has this worked out?

Hen:  Pretty well, except a few of my sons flew the coop and disappeared.

Me: Where do you think they went?

Hen:  I try not to think. I hope they escaped through the feeder's feet.

Me: That sounds like a pretty good life. 

Hen: An egg a day!  Always lay an egg a day!  If you stop . . .

Me:  What happens when you stop?  Surely you've laid enough eggs by now?

Hen: I try not to think.

Weaving a new shell

Sometimes I feel like a turtle without a shell, a quivering mass of nerves and feelings totally exposed to a life that can be so overwhelming.

Relationships have often been emotionally exhausting experiences.

My actual body seems to regard everything as the enemy.  Pregnancy, medicine, even food can send it into attack mode.  Even my joints, muscles and tendons seem intent on escaping their designated places.

I was taught to just tough everything out.  I am strong. I can do this!  Like it or not.

But I am finally learning to come to peace with who I am.

I don't have to prove myself -- to me or anyone else.   

It's okay to be gentle with myself, to accept my shortcomings and look for my strengths because they are not as absent as I always believed.

A lot of this is due to the nurturing relationship I have had with my best friend the past five years.  Bestest likes me just the way  I am and I am beginning to see me through those eyes.

He has helped me weave my own shell out of love, understanding and acceptance.

Music makes me sad

I like music.  I always have, but thinking back on it, I think I have always preferred music from the present, music without emotional ties to my life.

I don't mind music I played on instruments.

It is the music that I listened to as I navigated the highways and byways of the rest of my life that makes me sad., even if they were good.

Some people call that nostalgia.  I call it bittersweet.  It recalls a time when I was other than -- other than I am now -- happy, sad, or whatever, it is a time gone by, a time that cannot be recalled, replaced, or revamped with any true certainty.

Once time has severed the cord between me and those in my past I have no desire to wallow in them -- unless I need to cry.  

So, while I am a romantic in many ways, I prefer to focus on the possibilities of the moment rather than the imaginings of the past. The music may be ancient, modern, or anywhere in between as long as it does not evoke memories of times gone by.

I need to live in the present.

The last scapegoat

The first scapegoat I know about was sent into the desert to take away the sins of a people long ago.  He probably died, which only added more sins in my opinion.

That is the fate of scapegoats.  They suffer for those people who don't feel powerful enough to do something positive.

When times are bad people want something to blame. It's been going on as long as there have been people.  We crucify them, burn them alive, send them to concentration camps, and redirect the frustration and anger of a people to a specific innocent.

It is an old form of retaliation.  Blame the gods.  Appease the gods -- and all will be well.  Or will it? The second commandment does not have any codicils that I am aware of.  It does not say love thy neighbor as thyself -- as long as he or she is this or that, or not this or that. 

It is hard for people to admit that bad times emanate from bad actions.  Irresponsible voting, greed, poor choices, etc. etc. etc.

It's faster and easier to throw stones at innocent scapegoats -- even it it only makes things worse.

When the last scapegoat is brought back into the flock and loved for its own virtues, when people accept responsibility for themselves, when humanity becomes humane, times will be better.

Counselor

Good friends are kind of an old fashioned word for counselor.

A really good friend will always tell the truth, even if he does soften it a bit and include lots of hugs or encouragement when that truth is painful.

At the very least she gives me a place to unburden myself and air my frustrations or fears in a safe environment.

At his best he knows me better than anyone else and can see things I might not want to see, or have simply glossed over.

But, I have to say that a good friend cannot really be my spouse, or sibling, or parent, because there needs to be more separation between us than that.  We cannot live together, or depend on each other for our livelihood.

We must simply be that rare thing called best friends, people whose souls have attached at the root, but who always keep a little space for God between them.

Musing

Hard is hard, but some things tug at your heart more than others and those are the hardest.

In my experience life's easier difficulties are those where you could fix them if you only had enough money, because if you can buy something it is replaceable.

Other things are not so simple, but that doesn't make them hopeless.

There is always modification, behavioral or physical and last, but not least good thoughts and prayers.

Miracles come around more than you might think.

My Achilles foot

“The foot is at such high risk for injury largely because it has so many small, frangible parts -- 26 bones, 33 joints and more than 100 tendons, ligaments, and muscles, any of which can fail.”
Gretchen Reynolds; Unhappy Feet; The New York Times; Sep 14, 2008.

This quote came to me in an email called: A.Word.A.Day. 

It is certainly not news, but its arrival is also very timely.

Through the years I have broken several toes, sprained, strained, or otherwise damaged almost all the ligaments, tendons and muscles in my foot, and fractured a bone by slipping off the tiniest Nylabone made!

Last week I was amazed that I had no pain in my foot as I walked into a grocery store.  You cannot imagine what a luxury that was. It turns out the medicines I was taking for high blood pressure all contributed to aches and pains I attributed to other things and by decreasing them life had improved.

Then I wore my bedroom slippers for a few hours before going to bed and woke up in pain.  That pain has now morphed into a large knot under the outer metatarsal of my left foot and I am reduced to using a walker to go even a few steps.

Achilles had his heel.  I, it seems, have two feet.

Melting in

Everyone finds their place -- eventually.

Oh, it isn't easy.  We aren't cardboard tickets waiting to be dropped into slots.  We're more like icy spheres waiting to be immersed in just the right cocktail.

Physical or metaphysical, we'll know it's right when we find ourselves melting into it, becoming part of it until there is no doubt. 

No matter what IT is, or what IT is used for, it still is and always will be IT.

It is our place, emotionally, physically, psychically and it may include other ITS or not, but the fundamental rightness of it makes all of that okay.

In the right place, we thrive.  We thrive even when the world is crashing down around us, or even about to end.

Because it is our place, the one custom made just for us and we belong there.

Single souls

I am me.

All of me.

Not just the part of me that society finds acceptable

Nor just the part of me that is a logical thinker

Nor even just the part of me that I show the whole world.

I am me

In the deepest parts of my consciousness

where all the parts of me are single souls

watching each other to see

what the whole will do

I am me

and I am glad.

Like me

Most of us just want to be loved for who we are.

So it seems we should just be who we are and find out who likes us, but that is scary.

What if the people who like us (and are therefore "like" us) do not seem cool?

Am I willing to risk the possibility that I may be ordinary?  Normal?  Just an everyday sort of a person?

Absolutely not!  I can put on airs with the best of them!  I can use the Music Man's think method to turn myself into a siren, a genius, a super cool hipster, even a poor needy little woman!  I can dye my hair, pick some persona that appeals to me,  and fake my way through life . . . wondering:

Why do all my relationships eventually fail?  Why am I not happy?  What is missing from my life?

And trying even more desperately to be the person I am not.

Until . . . one day I discover that what is missing from my life . . .

Is me!

Table sharing

My friend, Kathleen Fannin, retired chaplain for Momouth College, wrote this:

In 2009 I published a book of meditations for college students. I post the entry for April 6th today as a commentary on the "religious objection" legislation in Indiana.
April 6 – Table-Sharing
"Going to God's table is a radical act which says we do not accept the world's judgment of who is worthy, who is good, who is bad.” –Rev. Dr. Marilyn Stavenger, Professor Emeritus, Eden Theological Seminary
We are different from one another, and rather than burying that which is strange in ourselves, our faith community needs to be one place in which that strangeness is not merely tolerated, but welcomed as a gift. The whole idea of hospitality, as expressed over and over again in the gospels, is one of welcoming those who are "other." Jesus welcomed all those whom first century society had marginalized—tax collectors, women, the sick, the poor— anyone who was imprisoned in any way. God has modeled this hospitality for us from the beginning of time.
The Bible tells us that, as Christians, despite our differences, we are all part of one whole, the body of Christ—a whole which is not complete without all of its parts (see 1st Corinthians 12). Too often, I think we find it easy to forget whose table it is at which we gather. It is not our table, but God's. Worthiness is not the requirement, which is why it is so radical, especially in a culture that is oriented toward individualism and achievement, a culture that bases the worth of persons on their abilities, accomplishments, and their conformity to the perceived norm.
"Going to God's table is a radical act which says we do not accept the world's judgment of who is worthy, who is good, who is bad." How many people would refuse to take communion if they thought this was a part of its meaning, part of what they were saying by their actions? How many of us focus on the bread and the wine during communion, thinking of Jesus, but failing to consider who else might be at the table--or who else should be but is not because there is no vacant chair or because the table is fenced? When there is not room for everyone, for whatever reason, have we truly gathered around God's table?

Tell me a story

Easter bunnies and eggs and chocolate candy . . . oh my!

Deviled eggs and painted eggs and candy eggs  . . .  my oh my!

Easter shoes and Easter toys and Easter services . . .

In the long history of humanity, the one thing we never quit allowing to evolve is celebrating.  Every year it gets a little bigger, a little better and generally a little sweeter - until the stories of the dawn goddess Eostre and hares reproducing without compromising their virginity and the return of spring, and the mysteries of eggs are all tantalizingly mixed up with the resurrection of the Christian Savior.

I love the Cadbury eggs almost as much as the stories.

Each one

Savoring each moment in life is an art I want to perfect.

Whether it is the time I spend thinking, or doing, being or tasting, I want it to be an event worthy of the breaths it requires.

Choosing to live consciously does not mean I will be perfect, only that I will strive to be perfectly aware.

Aware that what I do affects everything around me, reverberates out from me, reflects back at me.

One tiny bird fluttering over my porch rail can take my breath away.  One small hand reaching out to me can show me the state of the world I live in. One tear landing on my heart teaches me about compassion in the universe.

One is not the loneliest number I will ever see.

It is everything.

Life goes on

Last night I went to bed feeling perfectly fine and woke up with what felt like a broken foot.  If  I had not done this so many times before I might have panicked.  Instead I tried to go back to sleep, but it hurt so much that turned out to be impossible.  I tried sleeping with it on the right side, and the left side, even over the edge of the bed -- nothing helped.  Finally, about four this morning I got up, laced on my tennis shoes very tightly, got out my walker, took two Alleve and limped over to sleep in my chair with my foot propped up on the walker.  It worked!

I woke up about nine and used the walker to get to my deck and the chair on my deck to work my way over to my birdseed jar.  Looking out the window a few minutes later I saw a mother duck swimming in the tiny puddle under the downspout and the father eating seed.  All I have to do is stand up in my apartment and these two come running from wherever they are.  When they left, the squirrel appeared.  Because of him I keep the seed jar tucked under the air conditioner.  He has chewed off everything that is not glass or metal, but he can't eat the air conditioner!  Yet he never gives up.

I tried to watch a movie on my Roku.  It came up, but it wouldn't let me go farther than picking a place like Amazon, or Netflix.  I tried everything I knew.  Unplugged it.  Plugged it back in -- several times. Checked the batteries in the remote.  Bought new batteries and finally tried looking online.  I finally figured out how to buy an app and get the remote put on my phone.  At first that appeared not to work either, but eventually it did! Now I use the Roku remote on my phone.

If I have learned anything in my life it is not to give up.  And that is no small thing.

Relgious ideals

I was so enraged by some of the things on the news today that I was pretty sure I couldn't write a thot, so in a country where a California lawyer wants to propose we kill people who do not conform to his religious ideals and whole states are ready to throw the first amendment to the dogs, (if it does not impact their economy too much) I think this bears reading.

http://theunlikelyevangelist.com/2015/03/28/the-heresy-of-religious-freedom/
 (Copy and paste this if it does not come across as a link)

Live dangerously -- think!

There is nothing quite like waking up in the morning and thinking, "What shall I do today?"

You feel competent, alive, energetic and ready to enjoy your life your way.

You are not waiting for someone to tell you what to do, or how to do it, or what to feel as it gets done.

Even if you make mistakes -- and you will -- you know you can learn from them so they won't be repeated. Figuring these things out makes you feel good about yourself -- competent -- alive!

In the best of all worlds children are allowed to make mistakes so they learn this early, but it's never too late. Even in your sixties you still have time to grab the reins and become a strong, autonomous human being.  One who has friends, but not caretakers.

A caretaker helps you out all the time, because they don't really believe you are competent enough to do it on your own.  That's not the gift you might believe it is.  The few dollars it saves you here and there costs tons in self respect, privacy and freedom.

Growing older is dangerous when you believe you need to be taken care of.  You stop believing in yourself and become a candidate for being put on a nice safe shelf where you can sit until you die.

That's no fun at all.