I've had three horrible dreams in the past four weeks, two on the same night. The dreams were all different though two were related. In each dream, I had an overwhelming sense of dread. I could feel that dread spread up my legs, pinning me in my place. In each dream, I knew that I needed help and tried to yell for it but could not get the sound out. During each of these dreams, my sweet husband, still recovering from back surgery had to try and wake me. The first dream was just days after his surgery. The other two dreams came during the week of my own bout of diverticulitis. It would make sense that all these dreams were in response to the stress I was under. I did my due diligence and sleep paralysis was my internet diagnosis. Turns out that I may have been in an in between of sleep and awake and that is why I so clearly remember the physical and visual experience. I now try to not sleep on my back, which is one cause. There didn't seem to be much in the way of other solutions other than reduce stress.
Aside from these dreams, I am constantly having dreams about people that I used to know. I wake up from these sad or frustrated or, usually, pissed. So my question to a dream decipherer is this, how do I shut off my mind when I shut off the lights?
I don't buy the stressful life theory aside from the two aforementioned episodes. My life is pretty easy, pretty stress free. Roof over my head, food on my table, gas in my car. Anything else is stress I am making up. So with that in mind, I would expect the sleep paralysis to be done.
These other dreams though, where I am an this place of really ugly energy, they reek of unfinished business. And what does one do when the business cannot be finished. What does one do when (I am metaphoring this som bitch up) the bridge is torn down, the wood has floated down river and all that is left are some rusted old pipes that once served as make shift hand rails? What does one do when a mountain has, in fact, been made of a mole hill? Too big to get over and too big to smooth out.
I understand why doctors say "he's lucky, it was a clean break." It is so easy to heal from something that gave way smoothly. My own literal break was not clean and there is a tiny chip of bone loose in my ankle. It used to bother me and then I think it burrowed itself into the fat of my calf and is now completely forgotten. And my figurative break is not clean either. Ten years ago, it would have been before social media wormed its way into my life and I probably read more into comments (or the lack of them) then I do of actually reading comments.
So I ask you, self help gurus, life coaches, people that have removed the toxic or stopped being the toxic, how is it done. How do get my clean break? How do I stop caring and hurting and trying?
Friday, February 15, 2019
Monday, January 28, 2019
Martyrdom is Dumb
Let me clarify martyrdom, I am not referring to those that have given their lives for their religious beliefs. That is not something I can remotely understand, but it is not dumb. I have very wavering religious beliefs so it would be hard for me to die for them as they change every other day. The martyrdom I am referring to is the stupid notion that one must take it all on themselves. (Insert image of tired woman with back of hand on forehead). How the notion of someone suffering because they are doing it all became martyrdom is beyond me, because the two actions are certainly not interchangeable.
A week and a half ago, Danny had back surgery. Two surgeries actually, on Thursday and Friday. Also on Friday, the biggest work project I annually have also started. Add to that, bad weather, daughters driving hundreds of miles and an out of whack shoulder. I was determined to handle all of it. I was going to be at the hospital in the mornings for surgery, go to work, keep up on texts as the drivers stopped for gas, go back to the hospital, come home, push some snow (can't get the snowblower started with my bad shoulder) sleep and do it again. I thought this was what I was supposed to do. The first snowstorm I came home to a snow blown front walk and started to cry in the driveway. The following day I came home from the hospital to find the entire drive shoveled by Jacob and the waterworks began again. Obviously, I needed help but oddly, wasn't asking. I worked the weekend, visited Danny and came home bone tired. The work project is pretty physical, a lot of bending, lifting and reading very small print. I have done this project on my own a dozen times over the last 10 years, I am efficient and usually have no problem getting it done in a week, but I had never had a week like this one.
Danny came home Monday and I knew immediately that I needed to stay home with him on Tuesday. We were not prepared for the recovery of this surgery. The doctors certainly gave us best case scenario and though Danny was not completely incapacitated, he was not without the need of a lot of assistance. The hospital had his medications spread out over a two to four hour span. We were up a lot in the night.
Tuesday night I had my first ever experience with sleep paralysis. My brothers in law and son had all experienced it, so I knew what it was, but had no idea what it would feel like. The details of my dream didn't relate to what was going on in my life, but I can only guess that the stress I had put myself under was what had set this experience in motion. My muffled calls for help in my sleep were alarming enough to force Danny to roll over in bed to wake me. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. I was unable to move but felt like I needed to, I yelled for help but the words would not be heard. I knew there was danger coming through the door in my dream though I never saw what it was. Exhausted, I made the decision to stay home on Wednesday. It snowed again on Wednesday. Two of Danny's friends came over after work and cleared the driveway for us. At work, other employees took care of that day's duties and I finally made peace with not doing it all. And, you know what, I am no less of a human for it.
There is no gold star next to my name if I get the project done all by myself. In fact, the project is designed to be done by teams so it is expected that several people complete the project. At 49, I don't physically come back from a day like I used to. I seem to require my full eight hours of sleep and for these few days, wasn't getting close to that. I'm no martyr. Nor did I set out to be one. I just didn't think that week would be that hard. We asked the questions at the appointment before surgery so we could be prepared, they just didn't give us much for answers. And I thought the work project would be manageable, but in years past, I was always able to get a head start on it, this year, I wasn't. Lesson learned. Help is not a four letter word. Well, it is, but it isn't a bad word. This was a lesson taught to me years ago by Father Hurley. I should have remembered. People want to help, they just need to know how. Most people aren't mind readers, they don't know how one is struggling. And even when a person is aware of what is going on, they cannot possibly know what kind of support is already in place. Additionally, everyone of the people that helped me out this week and every other time, have their own snow to shovel so to speak.
I've know there are a lot of people that have to do it all themselves. They have no support system for whatever reason and I am not making light of your situation. If it's you, send me a message, I can help.
I shared my epiphany with a friend of mine and she said that she was glad for it. She didn't know how I was going to cope as the week was giving me pressure on the physical, mental and emotional front. She was proud of me, she said. And mine was only a week so I thought I could do it. Not out of pride, just didn't expect all the feels to beat me down.
Caregivers so often forget to care for themselves. I see it so often at Walgreens when the harried person comes in for a prescription and walker and chocolates. They are often overwhelmed with it all in the beginning and slowly become immune to their own needs. Or they become so bitter because they aren't given the help they expect but don't ask for. In my own week, the girls were on vacation and Jacob had recently moved out. I didn't want to burden Jacob with coming over to shovel. He did it gladly (well, you know).
A week and a half ago, Danny had back surgery. Two surgeries actually, on Thursday and Friday. Also on Friday, the biggest work project I annually have also started. Add to that, bad weather, daughters driving hundreds of miles and an out of whack shoulder. I was determined to handle all of it. I was going to be at the hospital in the mornings for surgery, go to work, keep up on texts as the drivers stopped for gas, go back to the hospital, come home, push some snow (can't get the snowblower started with my bad shoulder) sleep and do it again. I thought this was what I was supposed to do. The first snowstorm I came home to a snow blown front walk and started to cry in the driveway. The following day I came home from the hospital to find the entire drive shoveled by Jacob and the waterworks began again. Obviously, I needed help but oddly, wasn't asking. I worked the weekend, visited Danny and came home bone tired. The work project is pretty physical, a lot of bending, lifting and reading very small print. I have done this project on my own a dozen times over the last 10 years, I am efficient and usually have no problem getting it done in a week, but I had never had a week like this one.
Danny came home Monday and I knew immediately that I needed to stay home with him on Tuesday. We were not prepared for the recovery of this surgery. The doctors certainly gave us best case scenario and though Danny was not completely incapacitated, he was not without the need of a lot of assistance. The hospital had his medications spread out over a two to four hour span. We were up a lot in the night.
Tuesday night I had my first ever experience with sleep paralysis. My brothers in law and son had all experienced it, so I knew what it was, but had no idea what it would feel like. The details of my dream didn't relate to what was going on in my life, but I can only guess that the stress I had put myself under was what had set this experience in motion. My muffled calls for help in my sleep were alarming enough to force Danny to roll over in bed to wake me. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. I was unable to move but felt like I needed to, I yelled for help but the words would not be heard. I knew there was danger coming through the door in my dream though I never saw what it was. Exhausted, I made the decision to stay home on Wednesday. It snowed again on Wednesday. Two of Danny's friends came over after work and cleared the driveway for us. At work, other employees took care of that day's duties and I finally made peace with not doing it all. And, you know what, I am no less of a human for it.
There is no gold star next to my name if I get the project done all by myself. In fact, the project is designed to be done by teams so it is expected that several people complete the project. At 49, I don't physically come back from a day like I used to. I seem to require my full eight hours of sleep and for these few days, wasn't getting close to that. I'm no martyr. Nor did I set out to be one. I just didn't think that week would be that hard. We asked the questions at the appointment before surgery so we could be prepared, they just didn't give us much for answers. And I thought the work project would be manageable, but in years past, I was always able to get a head start on it, this year, I wasn't. Lesson learned. Help is not a four letter word. Well, it is, but it isn't a bad word. This was a lesson taught to me years ago by Father Hurley. I should have remembered. People want to help, they just need to know how. Most people aren't mind readers, they don't know how one is struggling. And even when a person is aware of what is going on, they cannot possibly know what kind of support is already in place. Additionally, everyone of the people that helped me out this week and every other time, have their own snow to shovel so to speak.
I've know there are a lot of people that have to do it all themselves. They have no support system for whatever reason and I am not making light of your situation. If it's you, send me a message, I can help.
I shared my epiphany with a friend of mine and she said that she was glad for it. She didn't know how I was going to cope as the week was giving me pressure on the physical, mental and emotional front. She was proud of me, she said. And mine was only a week so I thought I could do it. Not out of pride, just didn't expect all the feels to beat me down.
Caregivers so often forget to care for themselves. I see it so often at Walgreens when the harried person comes in for a prescription and walker and chocolates. They are often overwhelmed with it all in the beginning and slowly become immune to their own needs. Or they become so bitter because they aren't given the help they expect but don't ask for. In my own week, the girls were on vacation and Jacob had recently moved out. I didn't want to burden Jacob with coming over to shovel. He did it gladly (well, you know).
Monday, December 31, 2018
Resolve
Hey resolution time! Yeah, you with the huge expectations. I'm talking to you. And I am telling, not this time. I resolve nothing. I have done enough resolving in previous years so I see no need to create more burdens on my heart and head. I'm just going to keep keeping on. And if my history teaches me anything, there will be days where I will proclaim that I am done. Done with being fat or sad or pissed off and I will be done for days or weeks or even a couple months and then something happens and I'll be back to being fat or sad or pissed off. And that's alright, it is me and I am not interested in changing me too very much.
This past year was very unsettled in our hearts and it was difficult.
Danny, after so many years of using his body to save the world in many different aspects, injured his back. Months of trying to find a treatment that would work has led us to surgery and the hopes that the pain will be minimized. THe chiropractor took a lot of time with Danny explaining what happened and in that conversation said that sometime in the past 35 years, Danny injured his back and over the years, it finally gave. Sometime... parcoring (before it was a word) across downtown Cedar Rapids, humping across the deserts of Saudi Arabia, jumpin out of airplanes, backpacking across Iraq with half his body weight strapped to his body, wearing a vest and belt for ten years getting in and out of a crown vic, chasing down the bad guy, doing the Danny drop. Yeah, sometime in all that, an injury occurred.
As a mom, it was tough to watch the kinder muddle through all that 2018 did and didn't have to offer. I am very proud of them in undescribable ways as they make the make forward. Adults, sure, but there have been some very sweet moments, especially in these past few months, that have showed me the kids they once were. And I couldn't been more proud of them as they measure their successes not in dollars but in satisfactions and joys. What they are now is not so much from what Danny and I did as parents but from what they have learned as adults, adulting.
Me, I made all kinds of resolutions in 2018 and yeah, I worked out, but not always. I made a real go of this little business of mine and I am finding my way and it is wonderful. Loomies Rugs LLC is the most wonderful little business and the support I have received my from family and friends makes my heart so happy. I did not make the transition to pharmacy at work and that's fine. I am particularly good at putting stuff on a shelf so I keep at that.
I tried to let go of IT. It, that all encompassing word, not the clown in the sewer. It has been a little group of emotions that are primarily grief and pissed. A huge thank you to my friends that have allowed me to hash and rehash IT, I may be over IT! Wouldn't that be exciting. I've read about being a toxic person and maybe that is a resolution, to stop being an asshole. I have struggled with letting go with the crimes committed against me, real and perceived. I've done a really good job of playing the victim. I understand why people want a sharp knife for a clean cut. A dull knife leaves a lot of jagged edges that just don't heal properly and that applies to people as well. If you intend to go about inflicting injury on people, at least be sharp not dull. Oh wait, that is me being an asshole again, good thing it isn't the new year yet.
I wish you all a very bright and beautiful new year. May your IT be over and may your happiness be overflowing. Cheers 2019!!!
This past year was very unsettled in our hearts and it was difficult.
Danny, after so many years of using his body to save the world in many different aspects, injured his back. Months of trying to find a treatment that would work has led us to surgery and the hopes that the pain will be minimized. THe chiropractor took a lot of time with Danny explaining what happened and in that conversation said that sometime in the past 35 years, Danny injured his back and over the years, it finally gave. Sometime... parcoring (before it was a word) across downtown Cedar Rapids, humping across the deserts of Saudi Arabia, jumpin out of airplanes, backpacking across Iraq with half his body weight strapped to his body, wearing a vest and belt for ten years getting in and out of a crown vic, chasing down the bad guy, doing the Danny drop. Yeah, sometime in all that, an injury occurred.
As a mom, it was tough to watch the kinder muddle through all that 2018 did and didn't have to offer. I am very proud of them in undescribable ways as they make the make forward. Adults, sure, but there have been some very sweet moments, especially in these past few months, that have showed me the kids they once were. And I couldn't been more proud of them as they measure their successes not in dollars but in satisfactions and joys. What they are now is not so much from what Danny and I did as parents but from what they have learned as adults, adulting.
Me, I made all kinds of resolutions in 2018 and yeah, I worked out, but not always. I made a real go of this little business of mine and I am finding my way and it is wonderful. Loomies Rugs LLC is the most wonderful little business and the support I have received my from family and friends makes my heart so happy. I did not make the transition to pharmacy at work and that's fine. I am particularly good at putting stuff on a shelf so I keep at that.
I tried to let go of IT. It, that all encompassing word, not the clown in the sewer. It has been a little group of emotions that are primarily grief and pissed. A huge thank you to my friends that have allowed me to hash and rehash IT, I may be over IT! Wouldn't that be exciting. I've read about being a toxic person and maybe that is a resolution, to stop being an asshole. I have struggled with letting go with the crimes committed against me, real and perceived. I've done a really good job of playing the victim. I understand why people want a sharp knife for a clean cut. A dull knife leaves a lot of jagged edges that just don't heal properly and that applies to people as well. If you intend to go about inflicting injury on people, at least be sharp not dull. Oh wait, that is me being an asshole again, good thing it isn't the new year yet.
I wish you all a very bright and beautiful new year. May your IT be over and may your happiness be overflowing. Cheers 2019!!!
Wednesday, December 12, 2018
An Agnostic Christmas
My heart has changed over the course of the past year but I wasn't really realizing it until the annual appeal came in the mail from the church I belonged to. I could tell by the amount tithed in 2018, I had not been to mass in a very long time. In fact, the last mass I remember was in July in Cedar Rapids, said for my dad. I had stopped going to mass for no real reason, but as I read the tithing appeal, I realized that I could no longer give to the Catholic Church. I couldn't trust them with my money. I couldn't be certain that none of my dollars were in any way supporting a sex offender, a predator against children, a person that was systematically protected by an organization that should have done the very opposite. (I just read an article about two nuns that embezzled $50,000 from the school they principled and taught at, the diocese was not going to press charges because the sisters showed remorse, more protection.) And with that thought came the realization that I can't expect that same organization to support me, I couldn't just show up and use the facilities etc when I had the means to donate but chose not to.
And in no way is any one parish to blame. St. Francis, the church I most frequented and belonged to, made me welcome. Though it has a huge membership, there were so many options for someone to get involved and feel a part of the place. Though it never felt like Immaculate Conception, and really, what parish could, it was and is a welcoming place. It saddens me to know that I will not have a Catholic funeral mass. I find that particular mass the most comforting, the most beautiful send off. And yet, I am not Catholic and I cannot pick and choose what I want to follow and use. So I did a little web search and this is one of the site's list of requirements to be Catholic. I fail miserably on many of these bullet points and I am pro choice. That seems like an immediate exclusion from Catholic life and I completely agree that all life is sacred. I am just not willing to give up the desire for abortion to remain legal. (And I have had every argument presented to me on this subject and my mind does not waiver.)
The website stated as a Catholic, basically you're required to live a Christian life, pray daily, participate in the sacraments, obey moral law, and accept the teachings of Christ and his Church. I can follow Christ's teachings, or at least try to, but the teachings of the church is where I stumble. There is a long history of corruption, greed and abuse in the church, how can I follow any of what they say when they cannot follow it? Even now, we are still learning about cases of abuse that happened in this century.
-Attend Mass every Sunday and holy day of obligation. Well, I am obviously not doing that. I am not even attending Mass once a month. And I have heard the argument frequently that I don't need to be in a church to worship God and that is correct, but I do need to be in church to be Catholic. Like I need to be in class to be a student. Or at work to be an employee.
-Go to confession annually if not more often or when needed. I cannot say with certainty the last time I went to confession. Oh, I love the sacrament and don't have issue going, it is the cheapest therapy session I know, I just am too lazy to go. And yet, I would receive eucharist knowing that I wasn't supposed to because I hadn't been to confession. Again, confession is not required for my sins to be forgiven, I know that, but receiving the sacrament annually is required for continued Catholicism.
-receiving Holy Communion during Easter. Receiving weekly or daily is encouraged, though. Can't receive if I don't go. Oddly, for all the laws and beliefs that I have an issue with, Holy Communion is not one of them. Believing that Christ's blood and body were/are present in the eucharist has always been easy for me to accept. And I always thought it so interesting that so many other Christian religions that take far more of the bible literally did not take the events of the last supper literally and believe that the Eucharist is merely a symbol of the body and blood of Christ. But again, it shouldn't matter to me what another faith believes as I become agnostic.
-Observe laws on fasting and abstinence: one full meal on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday; not eating meat on Fridays during Lent. Well, I don't. I absolutely suck at fasting. Tell me I can't eat something and all of a sudden that is all I want. This past Lenten period, my muslim friend made plenty of fun of me for not being able to get through a Friday when he fasts during all of Ramadan. There is some serious fasting in that religion. No Thanks!
-Obey the marriage laws of the Church. I am pretty sure I hit this one on the nose. Except for the obey part. Neither Danny or I do much of that.
-Support the Church financially and otherwise. Well, I have already touched on this one in the beginning. I don't tithe anymore. When I was going to mass, it was $10 in the basket, but I would also claim it on my taxes so it wasn't exactly a free gift from the heart. And after the most recent comments made by Pope Francis regarding homosexuals that he made in an interview for a book to be soon published, "He urged homosexuals who are already priests or nuns to be celibate and responsible to avoid creating scandal." /www.nbcnews.com/news/religion/pope-francis-says-he-s-worried-about-homosexuality-priesthood-n942726. While reading this, I wondered one thing, did Pope Francis believe that because someone was homosexual, meaning that they were attracted to a member of their same sex as opposed to a heterosexual, someone attracted to a member of the opposite sex, they could not take a vow of celibacy and maintain that vow? Because let's not confuse things here one bit. Homosexuality is in no way responsible for the actions taken by members of the church that preyed upon children and young people for their own needs. Those that commited sexual assaults against children and young people did so for no other reason than that they could not control themselves. Those people used their position of trust and power to prey upon the most vulnerable and were then protected and supported by the Church. Pope Francis's words left me saddened for every person that wants to be accepted into the church and then hears those words that imply their sexuality makes them less moral or ethical. A person chooses a life of celibacy regardless of their sexual preference. And the scandals created in the past were by priests and bishops and cardinals that were protecting criminals. FFS if my parish priest chooses to have an affair with another consenting adult, be it hetero or homosexual, that is not a scandal compared to hundreds of, wait thousands of children being assaulted sexually be people representing Christ. Don't get me wrong, the aforementioned affair would certainly be interesting as far as nosey human interest goes, but it would not be a scandal that ruined the lives of children and that required the hard earn money of parishioners to be used as hush money.
So that's how I came to realize I was no longer Catholic. And I am sad for it. I love the Catholic mass. I love the rituals and meanings behind all the small actions. I love the huge monuments built to honor Christ (and to show off to the neighboring bishop). I love the art and pageantry. I love the blue shirts and khaki pants and plaid skirts of the students. I will always remember fondly the Catholic Church of my youth with IC school, bazaars, KofC 909 fish fries and steak fries. But I am no longer there.
And with that, I started to question my faith. And this is where is all gets very muddled and tricky.
I separate God and Jesus. I know the one in three persons deal, and I don't know how that works exactly, but for my purposes, I am separating God and Jesus and here's why. Jesus is legit. Everything I can read about him in the bible adds up. He's a good guy who walks the walk He know what Jesus would do and does it. And Jesus' message is clear. Love your neighbor, help the poor, don't be an ass. God, on the other hand, has no clear message. Don't get a tattoo, sacrifice your baby, don't eat shellfish.
Trust in me. That's where He got me. I started trusting and I started leaving it up to Him and I saw no change, or the change I saw was worse. And I'm not talking about winning the lottery prayers. I am talking about reading about all these people trying to make the world better in a million ways and nothing comes to fruition. I am talking about the ridiculousness in refusing plastic straws and carrying my own bags when the earth is dying around us and yet we were called upon to be stewards and all the stewards are just hitting these political walls. I am talking about these organizations desperately trying to feed babies in Yemen and the convoys are stolen or destroyed. And I ask why in the word should I trust You? What is to be gained from it? I am no worse off to refuse my straws and donate to relief organizations without looking to a higher power for hope and help. Is it absolutely ridiculous of me to want to see your work in action? I don't think so. I feel like the only time I see "God's work" is when one religion is attacking another or one group is protesting another group and I don't think either of those is what "God's work" is supposed to be.
"It's God's Will" Ah, yes, that is a classic stand by. And we are not to understand why it is His will or in His plan or any other thing. There is a movement of people that believe that the government does not want to fund better education for its population because uneducated people are easier to control. That same philosophy certainly could be applied to the teachings about God. People have created this huge, hulking power that we are to fear. If we fear, we probably won't challenge. Reading the Old Testament, it certainly feels like we should fear.
Let me ask you this, Am I any worse for wear if I do not worship God? Will I go to hell? Possibly, but depending on your belief system, heaven may only have a limited number of rooms available anyway. According to Revelation 7:4, 144,000 people will be headed home and the rest? Now, the argument there is that this was written in a time... The whole bible was written in a time ... I absolutely struggle with people taking one piece as fact and another as rumor and a third as a lesson meant to teach us. Generally we take the facts to fit our own needs, rumor to dispel our sins and lessons to explain something we don't really want to follow anyway. For example, I cannot eat shellfish, the bible says so. But I can get tattoos because the bible was written when non believers would have tattoos. And the 144,000 going to heaven was a story that had to do with the 12 tribes of Israel and was written before new math. But if everything is literal, there are not going to be very many people in heaven, yet we were told to be fruitful and multiply. It makes zero sense!
Not believing or worshipping or even honoring God doesn't change who I am other than the fact that I have a tattoo I need covered. I still do good stuff, I am still a relatively good person, I still donate my dollars but I do all those not because of God but because I want this world to be better. And with God, it hasn't gotten any better so why should I put for that extra effort on Him when I could use it to make a change that is here and now?
If I want to believe that God is responsible for Danny's safe return home from Iraq or Ashlyn's cure of cancer then I have to believe that He is also responsible for the death of everyone that didn't come home. I have to believe He is to blame for the death of those not cured. He has to be present in the action and reaction. Danny was primarily responsible for his safe return home and Ashlyn's cure was because of science and the way her body responded to treatment. Sure you can argue that those doctors got their big brains from God, but they chose to use them. Free will and God's plan can't be used in the same argument.
Funny thing is, crosses are still a big part of my home decorating. I have many, crosses and crucifixes. I will still collect them on my travels because they are beautiful and the cross symbol has been around for a every long time, so it doesn't have to be religious. And during the holidays, I am still unpacking many nativity sets. And I still want more. There are some beautiful nativities carved in Bethlehem and I would love to have one because it is hand made by Christians in Bethlehem, a group of people I want to support and the craftsmanship is amazing. Christmas time is full of symbols that I don't understand or know the meaning of, even the time of year we celebrate the birth of Jesus was chosen because people were already celebrating the winter solstice and it was easier to introduce another celebration that used many of the same symbols. If we believe the nativity story, and the other clues presented in the bible, Jesus would have been born in September or October.
And yes, I will wish you a Merry Christmas. And you will probably wish me a Merry Christmas as well and I will take no offense because that would be dumb. You can pray for me if you like, but I will not pray for you because I am not positive in the purpose and do you really want someone of less faith praying for you? Though out of habit, I still find myself saying prayers to myself when the ambulance drives by. I still believe Mom and Dad are in heaven. I absolutely believe that your beliefs are right and true for you (mostly).
Last week a very emotional woman was in the store. She talked to me for quite awhile in the aisle and then again at the check out. She did a lot of stops and starts in her sentences, never quite saying what she wanted and there were tears in her eyes. I followed her outside just to be sure she was ok. And I offered her a hug. She came back to the store later with two flowers for me and a thank you note. The note said something about Jesus putting me there for her. I don't know if that's true but I know it doesn't matter if it is. Jesus didn't compel me to be kind or to offer her a hug. Jesus didn't put Barron between me and the harm I was going to cause. Jesus didn't give me two daughters with compatible blood types, and if he did, why didn't he give compatible blood types to other sisters? It's all just how it happened. The earth rotates, sometimes it rains, people are kind, people are assholes, dogs are really good at reading people but don't live nearly long enough, shit happens.
This may all be a phase. I've gone through phases before. I was once trying to be an educated Catholic, that backfired. I once tried to be a devote rosary sayer, I was lazy. I looked into Eastern religions but don't have the self discipline. So agnostic it is. And a cover up tattoo.
Romans 14:1.
And in no way is any one parish to blame. St. Francis, the church I most frequented and belonged to, made me welcome. Though it has a huge membership, there were so many options for someone to get involved and feel a part of the place. Though it never felt like Immaculate Conception, and really, what parish could, it was and is a welcoming place. It saddens me to know that I will not have a Catholic funeral mass. I find that particular mass the most comforting, the most beautiful send off. And yet, I am not Catholic and I cannot pick and choose what I want to follow and use. So I did a little web search and this is one of the site's list of requirements to be Catholic. I fail miserably on many of these bullet points and I am pro choice. That seems like an immediate exclusion from Catholic life and I completely agree that all life is sacred. I am just not willing to give up the desire for abortion to remain legal. (And I have had every argument presented to me on this subject and my mind does not waiver.)
The website stated as a Catholic, basically you're required to live a Christian life, pray daily, participate in the sacraments, obey moral law, and accept the teachings of Christ and his Church. I can follow Christ's teachings, or at least try to, but the teachings of the church is where I stumble. There is a long history of corruption, greed and abuse in the church, how can I follow any of what they say when they cannot follow it? Even now, we are still learning about cases of abuse that happened in this century.
-Attend Mass every Sunday and holy day of obligation. Well, I am obviously not doing that. I am not even attending Mass once a month. And I have heard the argument frequently that I don't need to be in a church to worship God and that is correct, but I do need to be in church to be Catholic. Like I need to be in class to be a student. Or at work to be an employee.
-Go to confession annually if not more often or when needed. I cannot say with certainty the last time I went to confession. Oh, I love the sacrament and don't have issue going, it is the cheapest therapy session I know, I just am too lazy to go. And yet, I would receive eucharist knowing that I wasn't supposed to because I hadn't been to confession. Again, confession is not required for my sins to be forgiven, I know that, but receiving the sacrament annually is required for continued Catholicism.
-receiving Holy Communion during Easter. Receiving weekly or daily is encouraged, though. Can't receive if I don't go. Oddly, for all the laws and beliefs that I have an issue with, Holy Communion is not one of them. Believing that Christ's blood and body were/are present in the eucharist has always been easy for me to accept. And I always thought it so interesting that so many other Christian religions that take far more of the bible literally did not take the events of the last supper literally and believe that the Eucharist is merely a symbol of the body and blood of Christ. But again, it shouldn't matter to me what another faith believes as I become agnostic.
-Observe laws on fasting and abstinence: one full meal on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday; not eating meat on Fridays during Lent. Well, I don't. I absolutely suck at fasting. Tell me I can't eat something and all of a sudden that is all I want. This past Lenten period, my muslim friend made plenty of fun of me for not being able to get through a Friday when he fasts during all of Ramadan. There is some serious fasting in that religion. No Thanks!
-Obey the marriage laws of the Church. I am pretty sure I hit this one on the nose. Except for the obey part. Neither Danny or I do much of that.
-Support the Church financially and otherwise. Well, I have already touched on this one in the beginning. I don't tithe anymore. When I was going to mass, it was $10 in the basket, but I would also claim it on my taxes so it wasn't exactly a free gift from the heart. And after the most recent comments made by Pope Francis regarding homosexuals that he made in an interview for a book to be soon published, "He urged homosexuals who are already priests or nuns to be celibate and responsible to avoid creating scandal." /www.nbcnews.com/news/religion/pope-francis-says-he-s-worried-about-homosexuality-priesthood-n942726. While reading this, I wondered one thing, did Pope Francis believe that because someone was homosexual, meaning that they were attracted to a member of their same sex as opposed to a heterosexual, someone attracted to a member of the opposite sex, they could not take a vow of celibacy and maintain that vow? Because let's not confuse things here one bit. Homosexuality is in no way responsible for the actions taken by members of the church that preyed upon children and young people for their own needs. Those that commited sexual assaults against children and young people did so for no other reason than that they could not control themselves. Those people used their position of trust and power to prey upon the most vulnerable and were then protected and supported by the Church. Pope Francis's words left me saddened for every person that wants to be accepted into the church and then hears those words that imply their sexuality makes them less moral or ethical. A person chooses a life of celibacy regardless of their sexual preference. And the scandals created in the past were by priests and bishops and cardinals that were protecting criminals. FFS if my parish priest chooses to have an affair with another consenting adult, be it hetero or homosexual, that is not a scandal compared to hundreds of, wait thousands of children being assaulted sexually be people representing Christ. Don't get me wrong, the aforementioned affair would certainly be interesting as far as nosey human interest goes, but it would not be a scandal that ruined the lives of children and that required the hard earn money of parishioners to be used as hush money.
So that's how I came to realize I was no longer Catholic. And I am sad for it. I love the Catholic mass. I love the rituals and meanings behind all the small actions. I love the huge monuments built to honor Christ (and to show off to the neighboring bishop). I love the art and pageantry. I love the blue shirts and khaki pants and plaid skirts of the students. I will always remember fondly the Catholic Church of my youth with IC school, bazaars, KofC 909 fish fries and steak fries. But I am no longer there.
And with that, I started to question my faith. And this is where is all gets very muddled and tricky.
I separate God and Jesus. I know the one in three persons deal, and I don't know how that works exactly, but for my purposes, I am separating God and Jesus and here's why. Jesus is legit. Everything I can read about him in the bible adds up. He's a good guy who walks the walk He know what Jesus would do and does it. And Jesus' message is clear. Love your neighbor, help the poor, don't be an ass. God, on the other hand, has no clear message. Don't get a tattoo, sacrifice your baby, don't eat shellfish.
Trust in me. That's where He got me. I started trusting and I started leaving it up to Him and I saw no change, or the change I saw was worse. And I'm not talking about winning the lottery prayers. I am talking about reading about all these people trying to make the world better in a million ways and nothing comes to fruition. I am talking about the ridiculousness in refusing plastic straws and carrying my own bags when the earth is dying around us and yet we were called upon to be stewards and all the stewards are just hitting these political walls. I am talking about these organizations desperately trying to feed babies in Yemen and the convoys are stolen or destroyed. And I ask why in the word should I trust You? What is to be gained from it? I am no worse off to refuse my straws and donate to relief organizations without looking to a higher power for hope and help. Is it absolutely ridiculous of me to want to see your work in action? I don't think so. I feel like the only time I see "God's work" is when one religion is attacking another or one group is protesting another group and I don't think either of those is what "God's work" is supposed to be.
"It's God's Will" Ah, yes, that is a classic stand by. And we are not to understand why it is His will or in His plan or any other thing. There is a movement of people that believe that the government does not want to fund better education for its population because uneducated people are easier to control. That same philosophy certainly could be applied to the teachings about God. People have created this huge, hulking power that we are to fear. If we fear, we probably won't challenge. Reading the Old Testament, it certainly feels like we should fear.
Let me ask you this, Am I any worse for wear if I do not worship God? Will I go to hell? Possibly, but depending on your belief system, heaven may only have a limited number of rooms available anyway. According to Revelation 7:4, 144,000 people will be headed home and the rest? Now, the argument there is that this was written in a time... The whole bible was written in a time ... I absolutely struggle with people taking one piece as fact and another as rumor and a third as a lesson meant to teach us. Generally we take the facts to fit our own needs, rumor to dispel our sins and lessons to explain something we don't really want to follow anyway. For example, I cannot eat shellfish, the bible says so. But I can get tattoos because the bible was written when non believers would have tattoos. And the 144,000 going to heaven was a story that had to do with the 12 tribes of Israel and was written before new math. But if everything is literal, there are not going to be very many people in heaven, yet we were told to be fruitful and multiply. It makes zero sense!
Not believing or worshipping or even honoring God doesn't change who I am other than the fact that I have a tattoo I need covered. I still do good stuff, I am still a relatively good person, I still donate my dollars but I do all those not because of God but because I want this world to be better. And with God, it hasn't gotten any better so why should I put for that extra effort on Him when I could use it to make a change that is here and now?
If I want to believe that God is responsible for Danny's safe return home from Iraq or Ashlyn's cure of cancer then I have to believe that He is also responsible for the death of everyone that didn't come home. I have to believe He is to blame for the death of those not cured. He has to be present in the action and reaction. Danny was primarily responsible for his safe return home and Ashlyn's cure was because of science and the way her body responded to treatment. Sure you can argue that those doctors got their big brains from God, but they chose to use them. Free will and God's plan can't be used in the same argument.
Funny thing is, crosses are still a big part of my home decorating. I have many, crosses and crucifixes. I will still collect them on my travels because they are beautiful and the cross symbol has been around for a every long time, so it doesn't have to be religious. And during the holidays, I am still unpacking many nativity sets. And I still want more. There are some beautiful nativities carved in Bethlehem and I would love to have one because it is hand made by Christians in Bethlehem, a group of people I want to support and the craftsmanship is amazing. Christmas time is full of symbols that I don't understand or know the meaning of, even the time of year we celebrate the birth of Jesus was chosen because people were already celebrating the winter solstice and it was easier to introduce another celebration that used many of the same symbols. If we believe the nativity story, and the other clues presented in the bible, Jesus would have been born in September or October.
And yes, I will wish you a Merry Christmas. And you will probably wish me a Merry Christmas as well and I will take no offense because that would be dumb. You can pray for me if you like, but I will not pray for you because I am not positive in the purpose and do you really want someone of less faith praying for you? Though out of habit, I still find myself saying prayers to myself when the ambulance drives by. I still believe Mom and Dad are in heaven. I absolutely believe that your beliefs are right and true for you (mostly).
Last week a very emotional woman was in the store. She talked to me for quite awhile in the aisle and then again at the check out. She did a lot of stops and starts in her sentences, never quite saying what she wanted and there were tears in her eyes. I followed her outside just to be sure she was ok. And I offered her a hug. She came back to the store later with two flowers for me and a thank you note. The note said something about Jesus putting me there for her. I don't know if that's true but I know it doesn't matter if it is. Jesus didn't compel me to be kind or to offer her a hug. Jesus didn't put Barron between me and the harm I was going to cause. Jesus didn't give me two daughters with compatible blood types, and if he did, why didn't he give compatible blood types to other sisters? It's all just how it happened. The earth rotates, sometimes it rains, people are kind, people are assholes, dogs are really good at reading people but don't live nearly long enough, shit happens.
This may all be a phase. I've gone through phases before. I was once trying to be an educated Catholic, that backfired. I once tried to be a devote rosary sayer, I was lazy. I looked into Eastern religions but don't have the self discipline. So agnostic it is. And a cover up tattoo.
Romans 14:1.
Sunday, November 18, 2018
Go West
It was 18 years ago today that we moved out of my little old house in Cedar Rapids and moved into a crappy but big apartment in West Des Moines. Just three years later, we would make the decision to stay in West Des Moines and bought a home. Frequently, we talk about how different life would be if we would have followed one of the other potential paths. We would all be very different people. There would have been no Harlow, no Emmitt, no Hattie and possibly, no deployment. More than likely, there would have been no Brett (or Marie or Arthur). Cancer treatment could have looked very different. There probably would have still have been a truck, only sooner and maybe, bigger.
When we moved here, it was for a job with the Iowa State Patrol at the capital. Cedar Rapids Police had already said no thank you and we weren't holding out for Linn County. The terrible thing about being in the hiring process for law enforcement agencies is that they take months. I get it, they want to make sure they have the best people, but for the people in the process, it sucks! After CRPD said no thank you, and ISP said thank you, it seemed silly and risky to stick around to see what Linn County Sheriff's department was going to say. So sold the house and headed west.
After three years of Danny doing overnights at the governor's mansion and capital, he applied to Des Moines Police Department, put in for a transfer with the state patrol and applied to Nevada State Patrol. We had decided to say yes to the first offer he (we) got. DMPD it was. That allowed us to buy a home and stay in the area that had begun to feel like home. It meant the kids didn't switch schools again. I kept my job. Absolutely the easiest of decisions.
Had the state patrol offered a transfer, we could have gone anywhere in the state except the bigger cities. We could have lived on some land, had goats and chickens. The kids would have gone to a small school not Valley. There would not have been a Harlow, but there would have been other dogs, probably several. I could have had an old farm house and maybe a coup. I would have completely gone all in with that lifestyle. I would have ended up with entirely different kids because of the experiences they would have had. Every time we visit friends that have their own little slice of green far away from the city, I think of what could have been and then I hear about their commute, or think about the gravel road they are on, or how terribly far from the hospital they are and I am grateful to be where we are.
The other option, moving to Nevada, was terribly exciting. We would have been in the Las Vegas area and would have eventually made our way north to Reno to be near Danny's sisters and their families. Our lives, and to some extend, their lives would have been so different. Our kids could have taken dance and learned to ski. We could have been in the city or outside of town. But it would have been a lot of long roads for Danny to patrol and I don't think any of us would have liked that. I would have become proficient at winter mountain driving. When cancer came, there would have been a pretty good chance we would have gone to Sacramento for transplant. I would have picked up a gambling habit. I would have seen Barry Manilow, a lot.
I don't know if this is where we were meant to be. It is impossible to know. And I don't put any stock in god's plan. It is just how it happened. One city didn't see the potential and a state and another city did. We followed the money so to speak.
There was comfort in living in Cedar Rapids. I knew my way around. I knew the schools my kids would attend. The house we were in was cheap and had great woodwork and I cried the day I left it. I cried for all the things I was leaving, not just the woodwork and high ceilings, but the Sunday dinners at my parents, the growing up with cousins, grandparents at soccer games and band concerts. I had a church that knew me. I even had a couple of high school friends still in town. And Danny would have been such a good police officer for that city. I still take it personally that he didn't make the cut. Crapids.
And here's where we are and, barring a very large lottery win, here's where we will stay. West Des Moines has certainly become home. It is where my kids are from, it's where I want to be. We have roots, we have a community. We still root for the Tigers even though we have no children there. We have our Hy Vee and our Target and yes, our Walgreens. And let's be clear, I live in West Des Moines and don't know my way around Des Moines at all though I am good to go in Clive, Urbandale and most of Johnston! And I cannot imagine a life without these friends we have here, these work, church and school friends that feel like family.
We went where we needed to go to do what was best for our family. (My sister in law and her family have just done a similar thing.) Not everyone was happy we moved west and others weren't happy we didn't move further west. It's just how it goes. And now that I am watching my own kids make those same type of life choices I just try to make it clear that if they must go, then they must and we shall visit and if they must stay, then they must and we will not stop by unannounced.
So people, go where you must, enjoy it, embrace it and be happy in knowing that you did what was best and right for you! We might come visit!
When we moved here, it was for a job with the Iowa State Patrol at the capital. Cedar Rapids Police had already said no thank you and we weren't holding out for Linn County. The terrible thing about being in the hiring process for law enforcement agencies is that they take months. I get it, they want to make sure they have the best people, but for the people in the process, it sucks! After CRPD said no thank you, and ISP said thank you, it seemed silly and risky to stick around to see what Linn County Sheriff's department was going to say. So sold the house and headed west.
After three years of Danny doing overnights at the governor's mansion and capital, he applied to Des Moines Police Department, put in for a transfer with the state patrol and applied to Nevada State Patrol. We had decided to say yes to the first offer he (we) got. DMPD it was. That allowed us to buy a home and stay in the area that had begun to feel like home. It meant the kids didn't switch schools again. I kept my job. Absolutely the easiest of decisions.
Had the state patrol offered a transfer, we could have gone anywhere in the state except the bigger cities. We could have lived on some land, had goats and chickens. The kids would have gone to a small school not Valley. There would not have been a Harlow, but there would have been other dogs, probably several. I could have had an old farm house and maybe a coup. I would have completely gone all in with that lifestyle. I would have ended up with entirely different kids because of the experiences they would have had. Every time we visit friends that have their own little slice of green far away from the city, I think of what could have been and then I hear about their commute, or think about the gravel road they are on, or how terribly far from the hospital they are and I am grateful to be where we are.
The other option, moving to Nevada, was terribly exciting. We would have been in the Las Vegas area and would have eventually made our way north to Reno to be near Danny's sisters and their families. Our lives, and to some extend, their lives would have been so different. Our kids could have taken dance and learned to ski. We could have been in the city or outside of town. But it would have been a lot of long roads for Danny to patrol and I don't think any of us would have liked that. I would have become proficient at winter mountain driving. When cancer came, there would have been a pretty good chance we would have gone to Sacramento for transplant. I would have picked up a gambling habit. I would have seen Barry Manilow, a lot.
I don't know if this is where we were meant to be. It is impossible to know. And I don't put any stock in god's plan. It is just how it happened. One city didn't see the potential and a state and another city did. We followed the money so to speak.
There was comfort in living in Cedar Rapids. I knew my way around. I knew the schools my kids would attend. The house we were in was cheap and had great woodwork and I cried the day I left it. I cried for all the things I was leaving, not just the woodwork and high ceilings, but the Sunday dinners at my parents, the growing up with cousins, grandparents at soccer games and band concerts. I had a church that knew me. I even had a couple of high school friends still in town. And Danny would have been such a good police officer for that city. I still take it personally that he didn't make the cut. Crapids.
And here's where we are and, barring a very large lottery win, here's where we will stay. West Des Moines has certainly become home. It is where my kids are from, it's where I want to be. We have roots, we have a community. We still root for the Tigers even though we have no children there. We have our Hy Vee and our Target and yes, our Walgreens. And let's be clear, I live in West Des Moines and don't know my way around Des Moines at all though I am good to go in Clive, Urbandale and most of Johnston! And I cannot imagine a life without these friends we have here, these work, church and school friends that feel like family.
We went where we needed to go to do what was best for our family. (My sister in law and her family have just done a similar thing.) Not everyone was happy we moved west and others weren't happy we didn't move further west. It's just how it goes. And now that I am watching my own kids make those same type of life choices I just try to make it clear that if they must go, then they must and we shall visit and if they must stay, then they must and we will not stop by unannounced.
So people, go where you must, enjoy it, embrace it and be happy in knowing that you did what was best and right for you! We might come visit!
Saturday, August 11, 2018
Run Anne Run
A week ago yesterday, while doing my evening reflection, I had an epiphany. I needed to run. It was so clear in my mind. It was also 12:30 am and I had no proper footwear, it would have been irresponsible to run then, so fast forward to Sunday. Danny took me to the good shoe store, the one that watches you walk and actually finds the right shoes for a first time runner. Monday morning post FXB, I ran. And it's ugly. Most of the time it is this slow scuffle of feet barely leaving the pavement, or worse, a hunched over nearly defeated girl digging in for that next spurt and then the music changes and I am upright, chest out, fingers spread and I know I am placing each foot, each solution in front of the other with grace and purpose.
I am not running from anything anymore.
I am running toward something.
Piece of mind, peace of mind. Exercise may help ward off dementia. Exercise does help ward off all the bullshit in life.
I think the catalyst to this need to run came from an audio book I am listening to with my sister Dene' and friends. May Cause Miracles by Gabrielle Bernstein. It is not an earth shattering idea, it is mostly about forgiving myself, loving myself and finding that forgiveness and love in the world. It is nothing that I didn't already know, I had just decided for too long to ignore the issues in my heart and mind. When Dene' sent the Facebook invitation, I lept for it. I needed it, I need it. And I am already finding miracles. My God, I am running. There is a miracle.
And this invitation came just as I was researching therapists. I appeared to be stuck in a stage of grief or something that I couldn't get past. I was looking for sneaky ways to self harm to avoid situations. I'm going to stop there for a moment. I was so emotionally worked up about a social situation that I was actively trying to hurt myself badly enough to not have to go. That, my friends, is a shit place to be. I have worked very hard to get out of the self harm space. Somewhere in me, I was willing to go back to that place. Obviously, I needed help. I was super sensitive to the invitations that were not extended or the choice of words on facebook. I will tell you, for as much as I love Facebook, it is the fucking devil when one is feeling insecure. Anyway, with any trip to the therapist comes a copay and I decided, nope, I am not giving up any more of myself to this problem so I downloaded the Audible app, bought a little journal and started to find the answers in me.
The night of the epiphany I was heartbroken, again (Jesus Anne, get over it) and in the sobs, I saw it. I saw me, stride after stride, fixing my heart and getting killer legs while at it. I reached out to my friend, Juli, who is an avid runner. She frequently posts about the joy and release she finds in runs. She is currently training for the Chicago Marathon. She is an incredible friend. She is super bad ass. I would read her posts with a desire to experience that feeling but someone in my head would say, remember, you can't run. Because of what I am learning through May Cause Miracles, I know there is no one else in my head but me. I have gratefully shown the door to all the other naysayers that resided there. The voices from my youth, my young adulthood and even my middle adulthood, those voices that said I can't. The only voice that is left is the one that had listened to the others. And I am helping that Anne pack up and leave.
I can run. I am perfectly capable of it. I will work on my endurance and I will be able to keep a steady stride for an entire mile. I will add onto that mile as time goes on, I don't have an end goal of time or mileage, I don't know my destination, I don't think that is the important part right now, it's that I am running. Outside of my comfort zone but nearly as far out today as I was on Monday. I am running toward a better me. An Anne that sees the miracles. An Anne that faced a fear and aced that fear.
I wrap up this week with five days at Farrells and six days running. Miracle.
I have slept soundly six nights in a row. No despairing dreams. Miracle.
I have not self harmed in more years than I can remember even though the desire is frequently present. Miracle.
I am running. Miracle.
And in case you were wondering, there is a Broadway show based on life of Donna Summer. The music has begun to show up on my Pandora Showtunes Radio station. I have always loved "MacArthur Park" but was only familiar with Richard Harris's version. I did not know there was a disco version. There is. I was completely out of steam. It started to play and it starts out slow. Who did leave the cake out in the rain? I've always wondered that, and I can appreciate the time to it takes to make it, it does take time to bake it. And without the internet, they very well may never have that recipe again. And then the music changes and there is no denying the beat. I had my best run to that song. I think a disco station is what I need to maximize my run.
I am not running from anything anymore.
I am running toward something.
Piece of mind, peace of mind. Exercise may help ward off dementia. Exercise does help ward off all the bullshit in life.
I think the catalyst to this need to run came from an audio book I am listening to with my sister Dene' and friends. May Cause Miracles by Gabrielle Bernstein. It is not an earth shattering idea, it is mostly about forgiving myself, loving myself and finding that forgiveness and love in the world. It is nothing that I didn't already know, I had just decided for too long to ignore the issues in my heart and mind. When Dene' sent the Facebook invitation, I lept for it. I needed it, I need it. And I am already finding miracles. My God, I am running. There is a miracle.
And this invitation came just as I was researching therapists. I appeared to be stuck in a stage of grief or something that I couldn't get past. I was looking for sneaky ways to self harm to avoid situations. I'm going to stop there for a moment. I was so emotionally worked up about a social situation that I was actively trying to hurt myself badly enough to not have to go. That, my friends, is a shit place to be. I have worked very hard to get out of the self harm space. Somewhere in me, I was willing to go back to that place. Obviously, I needed help. I was super sensitive to the invitations that were not extended or the choice of words on facebook. I will tell you, for as much as I love Facebook, it is the fucking devil when one is feeling insecure. Anyway, with any trip to the therapist comes a copay and I decided, nope, I am not giving up any more of myself to this problem so I downloaded the Audible app, bought a little journal and started to find the answers in me.
The night of the epiphany I was heartbroken, again (Jesus Anne, get over it) and in the sobs, I saw it. I saw me, stride after stride, fixing my heart and getting killer legs while at it. I reached out to my friend, Juli, who is an avid runner. She frequently posts about the joy and release she finds in runs. She is currently training for the Chicago Marathon. She is an incredible friend. She is super bad ass. I would read her posts with a desire to experience that feeling but someone in my head would say, remember, you can't run. Because of what I am learning through May Cause Miracles, I know there is no one else in my head but me. I have gratefully shown the door to all the other naysayers that resided there. The voices from my youth, my young adulthood and even my middle adulthood, those voices that said I can't. The only voice that is left is the one that had listened to the others. And I am helping that Anne pack up and leave.
I can run. I am perfectly capable of it. I will work on my endurance and I will be able to keep a steady stride for an entire mile. I will add onto that mile as time goes on, I don't have an end goal of time or mileage, I don't know my destination, I don't think that is the important part right now, it's that I am running. Outside of my comfort zone but nearly as far out today as I was on Monday. I am running toward a better me. An Anne that sees the miracles. An Anne that faced a fear and aced that fear.
I wrap up this week with five days at Farrells and six days running. Miracle.
I have slept soundly six nights in a row. No despairing dreams. Miracle.
I have not self harmed in more years than I can remember even though the desire is frequently present. Miracle.
I am running. Miracle.
And in case you were wondering, there is a Broadway show based on life of Donna Summer. The music has begun to show up on my Pandora Showtunes Radio station. I have always loved "MacArthur Park" but was only familiar with Richard Harris's version. I did not know there was a disco version. There is. I was completely out of steam. It started to play and it starts out slow. Who did leave the cake out in the rain? I've always wondered that, and I can appreciate the time to it takes to make it, it does take time to bake it. And without the internet, they very well may never have that recipe again. And then the music changes and there is no denying the beat. I had my best run to that song. I think a disco station is what I need to maximize my run.
Monday, August 6, 2018
It's inevitable, Change
I'm 48, nearly 49, obviously I have changed. Everything about me from the number on my scale to even the height mark on the door has changed. Inside, outside, upside and downside, people change. Otherwise there would be a whole lot of newborns laying around without fire or the wheel etc and, well, it seems like evolution and all that requires change. So there you go.
Think of your own life, your own journey. What has changed you most? And what have been the good and bad changes that you have made? Would you trade out the bad or did they lead to better? Or did they lead to worse? At some point in life, we have to own the changes we have made or the change we have become and know that that is who we are and move on from that. I think that is finally where I am.
I am different than I was, obviously. But when was 'was'? Did I change when I moved to each new city? Yes, because each new city brought new challenges for me that I had to adapt to. Those new challenges were sometimes similar, new city, more children, Danny away with deployments and training. And then there were the changes of being in a different country, or learning how to balance my own work with deployments and growing children and having a home I was responsible for, not a lease. And in all of that, is adapting to the changes that are happening in the lives of the people around me as well. I have never been successful at that. Own it, and move forward.
I can't and won't look back anymore on the should haves and could haves of my past. I accept that each decision I made, right or wrong, is mine. I can't undo a decision, but if it were the wrong one, I can take steps to rectify it. Like the hallway paint color, horrible choice, I can paint over. Like my anger toward someone that was very close to me, nothing I can do to paint over that, I have learned to live with it and forgive myself for the grudge that I held.
Here's the other thing, we don't know what causes a person to change. We don't know what is happening in a life that makes someone become angry all the time, or unhealthy or despondent. I also know that I generally didn't ask, just made assumptions, but I am changing that behavior.
And where is all this discussion of change coming from, you may ask, well, several months ago, I got told that I had changed (and not for the better I might add!) when I moved to Des Moines. And that is fair. I have definitely changed in the past nearly 18 years. In this time, I have experienced some situations that I never dreamt I would, and for as much as the day to day of living can change a person, add in illness and death and at times, a very different and dark day to day, you bet your ass I have changed. I don't apologize for who I have become and I don't think I need to. I also don't think I need to spend any more time on justifying who I have become. As Goethe so eloquently said "If God wanted me otherwise, He would have created me otherwise." Meaning, I am here as God's creation, not someone else's idea of what I should be. That being said, God did create me as a work in progress and I continue to progress and change.
Even today, I changed. I got outside of a fear and I ran a mile. Within that mile was some walking, some resting, some jogging but there was also running. And I wasn't running from my problems, but running towards my solutions. That is part of the continual change that is taking place within me.
This living business can be tricky. I have had to decide who do I please, who do I change for, who do I want to be. I may please no one unless they choose to be pleased by my actions, I may change for no one but myself because only I know who I choose to be.
Think of your own life, your own journey. What has changed you most? And what have been the good and bad changes that you have made? Would you trade out the bad or did they lead to better? Or did they lead to worse? At some point in life, we have to own the changes we have made or the change we have become and know that that is who we are and move on from that. I think that is finally where I am.
I am different than I was, obviously. But when was 'was'? Did I change when I moved to each new city? Yes, because each new city brought new challenges for me that I had to adapt to. Those new challenges were sometimes similar, new city, more children, Danny away with deployments and training. And then there were the changes of being in a different country, or learning how to balance my own work with deployments and growing children and having a home I was responsible for, not a lease. And in all of that, is adapting to the changes that are happening in the lives of the people around me as well. I have never been successful at that. Own it, and move forward.
I can't and won't look back anymore on the should haves and could haves of my past. I accept that each decision I made, right or wrong, is mine. I can't undo a decision, but if it were the wrong one, I can take steps to rectify it. Like the hallway paint color, horrible choice, I can paint over. Like my anger toward someone that was very close to me, nothing I can do to paint over that, I have learned to live with it and forgive myself for the grudge that I held.
Here's the other thing, we don't know what causes a person to change. We don't know what is happening in a life that makes someone become angry all the time, or unhealthy or despondent. I also know that I generally didn't ask, just made assumptions, but I am changing that behavior.
And where is all this discussion of change coming from, you may ask, well, several months ago, I got told that I had changed (and not for the better I might add!) when I moved to Des Moines. And that is fair. I have definitely changed in the past nearly 18 years. In this time, I have experienced some situations that I never dreamt I would, and for as much as the day to day of living can change a person, add in illness and death and at times, a very different and dark day to day, you bet your ass I have changed. I don't apologize for who I have become and I don't think I need to. I also don't think I need to spend any more time on justifying who I have become. As Goethe so eloquently said "If God wanted me otherwise, He would have created me otherwise." Meaning, I am here as God's creation, not someone else's idea of what I should be. That being said, God did create me as a work in progress and I continue to progress and change.
Even today, I changed. I got outside of a fear and I ran a mile. Within that mile was some walking, some resting, some jogging but there was also running. And I wasn't running from my problems, but running towards my solutions. That is part of the continual change that is taking place within me.
This living business can be tricky. I have had to decide who do I please, who do I change for, who do I want to be. I may please no one unless they choose to be pleased by my actions, I may change for no one but myself because only I know who I choose to be.
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