Holiday Pennies From Heaven

I sit in the quiet dark of the morning. The fireplace on, the Christmas lights casting their sparkle in the corning.

I have my sweaty workout clothes on, my hand fumbling with the lone penny hiding safely in my right pocket of my post exercise zip up. I found that penny on the floor in the grocery store last night. It had been a last minute stop for a last minute stocking stuffer. I had parked my car and sat in the parking lot briefly before going in. I’d just been on my treadmill running, I’d been crying, it had been a long and emotional day, and the last thing I wanted to do was “people” and “public.” I snuck in, praying I would not run into anyone I knew, grabbed the few small items and checked out.

And then, there on the floor, in the middle of the exit area it lay, alone and shiny. My heart smiled a little as I bent down to pick it up. I know it’s silly, but it was what I needed at the moment. A sweet hello, a quick little kiss, this penny from heaven.

Just minutes earlier I had been driving downtown to do some errands, overtaken for the second time that night with emotions and again was sobbing, big tears rolling down my cheeks, stinging my already burning eyes. I have been struck with an indescribable sadness lately, mixed with the stress of normal holiday expectations and requirements, and it’s been a brewing recipe for emotional breakdown now for weeks. I’ve been stumbling along day after day, some good, some ok, some hard. But every day it’s one foot in front of the other and get ‘er done mom mode. And I don’t really say this like it's complaint, it’s just an odd and heavy curtain hanging inside of me that wants to shield me from sunlight, from warmth, from rest, from happiness. I don’t want to be felt sorry for, I don’t want to explain or really even think about it. I basically just want to ignore it all, go to bed early, keep my days busy, keep myself on auto pilot, survival mode and maybe, hopefully, it will pass.

Earlier last night I had found myself home alone and overcome with emotions, emotions I’d tried to ignore or simply not deal with, but they came over me in waves and the tears and the sobs and the utter heartache just all hit like an unexpected tsunami. I sat by myself in the basement and just let myself cry. There was so many emotions, so many reasons, so many things pulling on me, pushing on me, smothering me with their enormity, their guilt, their reality.

Last night I found myself sinking for a while back down to sit heavily on that step of anger. It’s been a while since I’ve been in this place, but I found myself thinking about how we should be buying sparkly red velvet dresses and black lacy tights and small black patent shoes. There should be matching hair bows and ponytail holders. We should get to be shopping for pink Christmas presents of Barbies and Disney princess and LOL dolls, and having discussions on how young is too young for an American Girl Doll.  But there is none of that in this house.  No pink, no dolls, no sparkles, no hair bows, no drawers of little tights and princess panties.  It made me sad and it made me angry.  And whenever I get angry, I almost always feel guilt. 

We're not supposed to get angry with God, we're not supposed to curse God, we're not supposed to question His intention and His plans for our lives.  Or at least that's what some of the other messed up thoughts are also hardwired in my little mind to make me think.  I know it's ok to be angry, and sad, and disappointed, and question.  And I know I don't need to feel guilt over any of that.  But, sometimes the rational thoughts just get highjacked by the non-rational throughs and we just need need to weather the high tide that rushes over and messes things up again for a while.

I'm not sure where this grief came from, returned from, dug itself back up from.  Perhaps it's because our youngest middle child is now double digits, and we didn't go see Santa this year, we didn't do any special kids Christmas photos by the tree this year, we didn't do the church Christmas program this year, we didn't drive around and look at Christmas lights this year, we didn't do the holiday baking and mess making together this year.  Some of this was his age, most of this was simply because I haven't it had it in me to do it, initiate it, take the time and effort to put forth towards it.  I've just wanted to hermit at home and climb into bed.

Year after year I write about how hard the holidays are for me. I wasn’t going to this year, seriously why keep beating a dead horse. Perhaps I won’t actually post this. Perhaps I will post and no one will actually read it. All distinct possibilities I guess. And yet, here I sit… here I type, my sad heart in the quiet corner in a dark house on an early Friday morning.

Soon the rest of the house will be up, the lights will all be on, the chaos and the noise will begin, will return. Most days I’m up and at it, several miles already logged in my exercise app, and I’m ready to face the day and grab the bull by the horns and run with whatever comes my way.

But not every day that luxury is afforded me. Not every day my brain decides to join in the joy and merriment of the life and day around me. Not every day my body is my friend. Some days, some seasons, everything seems to just be a battle, a clinging and clawing to anything remotely good, remotely happy, remotely normal.

But I know I’m not alone, I know so many people are out there hurting and struggling within, all dealing with various hurts and hardships and inner demons. It’s this publicized time of grand joy and celebration, and yet I believe if every single person was honest, really really honest, we are all dealing with something hard, something painful, something with a sharp edge scratching at our sides.

Oh if this is you, please know you are not alone. You are not alone as you flounder around looking for your joy, for your peace, for your merriment. Those things are inside all of us, but some days it’s just harder to find them than others. Don’t give up on your quest to find them, and don't feel guilt on the days when you can't.

And now the time has come for the lights to come on and the day to "officially" begin (never mind my alarm went off over two hours ago). It’s time to face the people and the public and the hectic and the chaotic. It’s also time to allow myself the grace to be ok not being ok, and find hopefully at least a few moments of joy and laughter and rest at some point during the day.

I’m blessed with so many incredibly wonderful people, and possessions, and talents - which I must not overlook as the dark and dreary continues to try pull me down, pull me in, slowly strangle me these days. It’s an ebb and flow, a balancing act of highs and lows, ups and downs, joy and sorrow. A holiday roller coaster ride like none other.

When we feel at our lowest, when we feel lost and sad and angry, we must continue to give ourselves (and others) grace, to hold on tight and work to find the gratitude, find the reason for celebration, find the reason to push forward, weather through, climb our way back up, all the while knowing that through every step of the way, it’s still ok to also hold hands simultaneously with the sadness and the ache.

{ Previous Post "What To Focus on in 2019" HERE }

{ Next Blog Post "Whatcha Reading 2018" HERE }

What To Focus on In 2019

We are down to the final weeks of the year. The end of 2018 is almost upon us. Was it just me, or did this year pass by incredibly fast? Story of my life. Story of all of our lives I’m sure.

I was zooming through social media recently (I know, I know I need to stop doing that) and there are people already talking about their “word” their “manta” their “focus” for 2019, and I sat there thinking how utterly I have failed my word and my focus on this year. I am nowhere near where I should be, or surly wanted to be.

My word for 2017was less. Do less, have less, weigh less, spend less, talk less.

My word for 2018 is contentment. At this time last year I knew I also hadn’t fully reached where I wanted to be when it came to the topic of less, and felt that this year I was being drawn to continue on the topic of less but at an even deeper level, a more specific, more hardcore level I guess you could say.  I zeroed in on the overall concept of contentment.

It's twelve months later and here I sit… Do I feel happy and unburdened, light and cheerful?  No. I'm so far financially in debt right now I’m not quite sure what to do about it, I have gained back some of the weight I had been so diligently trying to lose (I couldn’t even manage to maintain it this year let alone lose more), my house is still full of stuff, and things, and unneeded and unnecessary materialist objects. And as for doing less and talking less, well - I’m not doing so great on either of those areas as well… just ask the poor people stuck in the cubicles around me at work in regards to my talking. Lol. Contentment and doing less are a battle, a continual battle every single day. There are so many things, people, appointments, opportunities, expectations vying for my time and attention. It’s a hard and risky line to try balance.

I did manage to move myself from the bottom of my to-do list to the top of my to-do list this year, and I have managed to maintain that and hold true to quite diligently. But the interesting thing, to put myself on the top of my list - I merely had to move up my morning. I didn’t move everything done one, since I never ever actually made it to the bottom of the list before, I just never got down to “myself.” My soul care and my self care just never happened. And for me to make myself a priority in my own life, I had to create more time, carve out the time from something else. So I get a little less sleep now and give myself a little more love now.

I’ve come to slowly embrace and come to terms with my treadmill and my running shoes at 3:30am every morning, but it has been a battle, let me tell you.

Contentment. Oh how I lack. I am one who is always wanting more, needing more, getting more, striving for more. Why can’t I be enough where I am, how I am, who I am, with what I already have? Why in the world is contentment such a hard concept for me to grasp?

Less. This seems to be even worse. The more I intentionally attempt to decrease, lessen, purge, rid… the more I seem to aquire, gain, hoard, and stash away. Why why why is it so hard for me to simply let go? Let go of the stuff, the things, and the expectations and desires surrounding that stuff and things?

I don’t think of myself as a needy, highly materialist person, but obviously I am more so than I realize… more so than I want to admit to, more so than I want to dive into and overcome.

So why this internal clutching and clinging and acquisition? Why this more, more, more pull from within?  Why this discord of unease and internal unrest over having, needing, wanting, getting, achieving, striving?  Why this flippancy to dive in and really address the core, the root, the heart of the matter at hand?

All this around and around leads me right back to where I started… and right where I started was not one step closer to overcoming, or managing, or coming to grips with that which I have been previously felt called to focus on. Do I seek out another word for 2019? Do I just say to heck with it? Be done with even attempting to hear what I need to set as an active goal for the next twelve months to work on and focus on?

I admit there is a large and loud part of me honestly wanting to just be done, just walk away, just stop the insanity as Susan Powter used to say. Remember her? The spiky haired blond that went from fat to fab by merely getting off her couch one day and going for a walk?!? I wonder if she sat on her couch for months and months listening, seeking, searching for the desire and direction she felt called to focus on next. Or did she one day just get up… started moving, started doing… something, anything, nothing, everything…

I think for right now I’m feeling this internal pull to perhaps admit it’s time to stop seeking, stop searching and start concentrating more on just being… being without limitations or motivations or black and white checks and balances… at least for a little while. (I fully realize someone with the personality qualities I have pulsing through me will never fully allow myself to live a life free of sharp motivations and set [usually unattainable] expectations.) Being… as in more yoga and meditation (and who knows, perhaps more medication as well ~lol) Being… as in less to do lists, less chasing of the dreams and my own tail of accomplishment.

Being... as in a little less planning and a little more come what may.  Wow, writing those words just now nearly brought on a guttural reaction inside me.  I am a planner, a do-er, a have it all together person.  I'm honestly not sure just being is actually something of an easy task within the confines of who I am.

I take a few more sips of coffee, soaking in the silence of the moment, thinking over the thoughts and words I've just found and gathered and pondered and put down on paper.  And I chuckle as I realized that perhaps, right there, is in fact the word of focus for 2019.

Just Be. Just be… nothing more - nothing less. Just Be.

{ Previous blog post "Unattainable Perfection } HERE }

Unattainable Perfection

I realize that I am probably just like everyone else… I have these inner pictures of what I consider to be the “perfect” look, the “perfect” physique, you know… the “perfect” body. The toned, tanned, cellulite free, sculpted, muscular body with 5% body fat, six pack abs, and arms that are chiseled and utterly breathtaking.

I’m talking not about the perfect “life” in general here, but more one portion of the whole, one aspect within the entire spectrum. We all live in a broad bubble of what we want in our lives, what our dreams and hopes are, and then we have the bullet points, the sub categories, of how we personally picture perfection, or define ultimate success within those certain areas of our own lives.

I think we all have these visions of sugar plum perfection dancing in our heads and messing with our hearts and our minds. I think there’s a fine line between them helping us to better ourselves, to push ourselves, to challenge ourselves, and well… frankly they can also drive us utterly calfshit mad. It’s that version of “if only” that gives us both the drive to get up and get it done every morning, and leaves us utterly disappointed day after day when the reflection in the mirror never seems to morph, evolve, arrive at that desired state of sleek physique our mind has attached and settled on.

As you can probably tell, I have spent too much time lately scrolling through the oodles of pages in my social media feeds… the memes, the photos, the stories, and I’ve also suffered yet another disappointment as I stepped on that scale again this morning. The work and results I’m trying to demand of my body, and the reality of the results I’m after, are not meeting up eye to eye these days. The battle both within my mind and within the structure of the physicality of my body are at great odds again… still… as always. Story of my life.
I should know better than to get sucked into this comparison game, this seesaw game of back and forth, and up and down, between mind and reality, expectation and actuality. I should know better… but I obviously don’t. This has been my battle, my mind game, my inner war for thirty years now. Thirty years of the lies and whispers within. Thirty years of yo-yo weight loss and weight gain. Thirty years of fighting to achieve an unrealistic goal, an unattainable reality. It’s left me some days exuberant, some days exhausted, and most days a crazy mix of both and I’m left lost and floundering in the chaos and crazy of it all.

It’s me against myself. There is no one else in control, no one else calling the shots, no one else making the final decisions. Oh we want to blame it on someone else, something else… The food preservatives and high cost of organic, the stress, the busy, the expectations and obligations. But we are also the ones somewhat in control of how many appointments and dates and responsibilities fill the boxes of the days on our calendars. Yes, there are things we have to do, must do, need to do. But there are also probably a large handful (or more) of things that perhaps need to be reevaluated and reexamined. There are things we need to say yes to, there are things we need to say no to. There are things we’re currently say no to that need to becoming yes’s. There are things we’re currently saying yes to that need to become no’s.

Ahhh but I digress on this little rabbit trail and step back down off my little soap box of trying to dial back and do less in an effort to become more (smile). Another post for another day - or a previous post from a previous day. lol

I have spent a lot of time and a lot of energy battling the inner demons of perfectionism and enoughism. I know I mention this a lot, and my apologies. It’s just something so hard to overcome, so hard to honestly face head on and dive into deeply and authentically.  It’s so much easier to live in the shadows and the lies that I’m not enough, that I’m not perfect, that I’m not valid in my current state. It’s easier to come to believe that it’s useless to try and futile to care… For years I attempted to drown out the truth, numb the chatter, and plow forward day after day after day, never feeling true contentment and happiness.

Of course there are moments and seasons of joy, don’t get me wrong, but all my life there has been an underlining rose prick of being a little lost, a little misunderstood, always searching and seeking and reaching for “something" - yet never quite knowing how to define or even find that “something” that was always just out of reach, just around the corner, just after the next success.

Does this undefined “something” really exist? Is this “something” really even attainable? Or is it all really a grand illusion and the wiring inside my brain are just faulty and frail?

Year after year of this searching and questioning has merged into a mental image of what my life should be looking like, what my body should be looking like, what my house and family and income and job and bank account and success should be looking like… and it all always just continued to fall short. The weight was a little too much, the income was a little too little, the house and family and job all a little too messy and a little not perfect enough in what they are giving and offering back to me in return for my time and investment in them. Never enough. None of it. Me. Them. Me to them. Them to me. Never enough. The expectations and realities always set too high - an unattainable and unachievable bar no one would ever, or could ever reach - least of all myself.

And yet I sat with the blinders on for years and years and years as I gazed through the rosy pink stained reality, shielding my vision and sensibility every day as I looked outward at everything and everyone surrounding me and as I looked inward at everything buzzing and whirling around within me.

Within the whisper of not enough there was always an echo of questioning and discourse, of silent lashing back. The tiny specs hidden within me wanting to let it go, release it all, open the arms wide and just stop the battle, stop the war, and simply embrace it all. Embrace the imperfections, the weaknesses, the failures. Stop running from them and stop allowing them to define me, somehow releasing them and finding a way of honest love and acceptance, of removing the glasses and seeing life with a clarity I think I always knew was there but would never allow myself to examine.

To be aware of the reality of the change in mindset that needs to occur is step one, and I was beyond excited and driven to begin the journey of change, of letting go, of self overcome that I knew I need to begin working on. However, I have found that the implementation and work needed when moving into step two has been a whole other reality.

Knowing, and obtaining, and maintaining the self discipline of fully implementing any change is where the rubber meets the road. Where the real pain and reality sets in. Where the work becomes the reality that was only previously defined within our minds.

I have had seasons of success and felt I made great strides forward. And then just as quickly the season of success fell back into a season of doubt, and regression, and backward slide. The ten steps I had been able to take forward was now back to only four steps forward. Six steps again lay before me, needing to be re-overcome, and finding the drive and motivetion and self dicipline to tackle those same six steps yet again I’m finding is much harder doing the second (and third and fourth time) is much harder than it was that first time. And the first time I was afraid might kill me.

So, I sit here wondering why. Why do I keep hanging on to this defination and picture within me of the perfect body image, having on to this stupid dream and personal expectation that I know I will never, can never, honestly achieve?

Am I supposed to keep hanging on to this unattainable dream as a way to continue to propel me forward, continue to drive me onward and higher, or am I supposed to honestly come to grips with this unattainedable dream and open my arms, open my hands, and release it… lowering my dreams and expectations to something more realistic, more attainable, more achievable?

I’m torn between leaving the unattainable as the goal, or just lowering the bar and changing the expectation to something far less. If I lower the bar - will I ever know if I could have perhaps achieved that higher unattainable dream, or if I leave it too high - will I ever stop killing myself trying to actual achieve and reach that dream that is in fact unattainable?

Is it “perfection vision” unattainable merely because I just haven’t reached and conquered it yet? Or is it really really unrealistic and really really unattainable? Which is doing me more harm than good? Which is going to drive me further, faster, and more fully?

Do I delete that screenshot of that instagram photo of the woman standing on the running track with her lean and beautiful body in all it’s perfection (as definined within my head) so I stop coming across it, stop looking at it, stop obsession over it, because I can’t ever and will never achieve that personally for myself? Or do I print it out and hang it on my fridge and bathroom mirror and treadmill as a constant reminder of all that I could still achieve if I were to keep working on it - a reminder not that that is something I can never become, but as the person I just haven’t become yet?

Part of me says delete and come to grips with reality and just figure out how to redefine “perfection” so I stop killing myself mentally and physically over something that will never be because it can never be achieved, no matter how much time and effort and work you put into it.

In other words, give it up, take the easy road and allow the dream to actually be unattainable.
Part of me says print it and quit trying to give up. Maybe it’s time to just dive in deeper, work harder, push even more, because what if I could achieve, what if I might achieve, what if I can achieve it - I just need to give myself more time and effort and work toward achieving it?

In other words, allow the dream to drive me to attain that which I currently only fear as unattainable, because I'm not willing to push and put in the hard work and self discipline to actually get myself all the way there.

To delete or to print? To give up or to modify? To not give up or to continue on?
To release the insanity? Redefine the insanity? Or simply continue on towards the insanity?

{ Previous blog post "A Few Words On Adoption" HERE }

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