Calgon, Take Me Away

Welcome to my day...

I am ... ummmm... grateful... for....

Ugh... I am starting to despise school.  I thought that was supposed to change in adulthood.

Aspergers... lazy... school...teachers... grrrrrr....

Gratefuls, gratefuls... right... ummmm...

I am grateful that I give a damn about my son.  I am grateful for the fury fire that drives me to force change.

ummmmm....

I am grateful for the advil to ease the pain after I beat my head against the wall.

Calgon...take me away... I will be grateful, I promise.

Bed Time Prayers

When I was younger, I used to stay with my Grandma when I could.  Sometimes on a weekend, but for the most part, during the summer when school was out.  Summer nights at Grandma's house make up some of very favorite memories.  She was one of very favorite human beings.  God I loved her.  To this day, she awes me, and my heart longs for her.

I remember every night at nine, she would start to say she was going to bed.  She never did.  She had to pin-curl her hair, and fuss with the laundry or something in the cold room.  She had to remember to put this away, or this other thing out for tomorrow.  She would sit and have a coffee mug full of rice crispies and milk (which by the way, is something my daughter does - like someone whispered that secret in ear).  By eleven o'clock, the house started to quiet.  After the first few minutes of the late news, she disappeared from the kitchen.

I went looking for her one night, calling "Gram?... Gram...."  

I tapped on the door where a light glow from her beside lamp cast shadows on the room.  She was there by her bed, on her knees.  She was whispering quietly, and I knew better than to interrupt.  This was her time with God.  Every single night, she thanked Creator for our day, and asked safe keeping of her family and friends.  She counted her blessings, and gave gratitude for every one.  She asked her questions, and promised to listen for answers.  She always ended crossing her self in the Ukrainian fashion she grew up knowing, whispering "Amen".  

She knew I was there, leaning in the doorway.  She got up slowly, and smiled as she came towards me.  She kissed my forehead, making me lean down so she could reach, "it's important to talk to God, and to have some faith.  The same goes for you Missy.  Say a prayer for me tonight."  

The memory of her kneeing by her bed, whispering with the Creator is forever etched in my heart.  I am forever grateful for her faith in God.  My Grandmother lived some tough times, and even when she felt she had nothing else, she had faith.  I am grateful for her eleven o'clock whispers, and for her kisses, and for every time she called me Missy Marcotte in an accent I still can't quite put my finger on - like a French/Ukrainian mix twisted together with her mother's Austrian, maybe?  I can hear it every time I close my eyes and try to hear her.  

I remember her every night when I lay myself down and count my blessings.  Every time I am troubled, and take it to God, I hear her, and see the glow from her own bed time prayers.  I am grateful for her prayers of protection, and learned to ask the same for my family.  And every night, I say a prayer for her in my own bed time prayers.  Don't worry Gram, I will always remember.  

I am so grateful for the beautiful peace that comes with bedtime prayers, and for whispered reminders.  

I miss her : (

Refreshed

I have had a great weekend of time to myself.  I am grateful for remembering to take for myself, and for the reminder of how important and refreshing it is.

I feel like a flower opening it's pedals after a rain storm, shaking off the water, lifting up to the light.

My Day, My Way

What a fantastic day!  A morning, my way - coffee by the fire, a good Hollywood interview, and good writing time.  An afternoon my way - a good work out, some laughs and candles.  An evening my way - with my dear friend Carolin - dinner and laughter.  A day my way was just what I needed, and I am so grateful for all of it.

Sometimes it does just need to be all about what I need, even if just for the day.  I can feel the life rushing through me, the smile lighting my face, and I am grateful.  Heck yes, my day, my way.

I am content, just to be me, in my day, my way.  

Try it, you'll like it. Much love. 

I Gotta Feelin'

You know when you wake up happy?  Just happy.  No reason in particular, just... I gotta feelin'...  and I am grateful for the feeling, for the smile, for the horizon, and for the happy.

It's just that simple today.  Grateful for good feelin's!  I wish all of you good feelings today.

May the road rise to meet you, 
May the wind be always at your back, 
May the sun shine warm upon your face, 
May the rains fall soft upon your fields, 
And, until we meet again, 
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

Music Make Me Loose Control

I wrote a fairly dark post earlier today.  And I let it sit and brew.  I didn't like it.  I didn't like my mood.

Then I turned on some loud, angry music.  I let it fill my ears and my head, and I let the thudding beat drown out my own thoughts. 

I am grateful for music that makes me move.  Move forward.  I am grateful for the beat, and the lyrics, and the rhythm.  I am grateful for the music while I walk, and when I run, when I climb.

I will post some of my earlier blog, while I try to run away from my thoughts... treadmill here I come...

(you didn't really think I would put a picture of me on the treadmill did you?)

Dark Days Are Hard Work

Being a well rounded person is hard.  That's what I think today.  It's just plain hard work.

I am grateful for resilience.

Trying to keep on a smile despite a dark day is hard.

I am grateful for inner strength.

Looking toward the future when you are stuck in an unsatisfactory present is hard; it's harder when you have one foot in the past.

I am grateful I had a past that held lessons on my personal journey.

Attempting to be confident when there are more facets of life weighing in on the scale of uncertainty - hard.

I am grateful for confidence that sticks- no matter what.

Knowing what I need versus what I want - yeah, the knowing is the hard part.

I am grateful for knowing what I want - and what I need.


...It just got ugly after this... time to run away from the thoughts.

Break in the Fog

I find, sometimes, that my mood and experiences of my day tend to fog my perception.

Today is foggy.  It's clouded by selfish presumptuousness, boredom, and tedious flippancy.  I am irritated.  That's the whole of it.

My break in the fog is the selfless act of my daughter.  A few days ago, she started making and selling friendship bracelets, with all the proceeds going to Cause for Critters and another animal charity.  Today she signed up to volunteer at one of the animal shelters.  I am so proud of her, and her selfless actions to help out a good cause.  I am grateful I have instilled values and a desire to help others.  I hope she carries it with her always.

I am grateful for a break in the fog, and hope some light shines through soon.

A Good Night's Sleep

Last night, I was bed in 9:15.  I was asleep by 9:16.    I am grateful for nine hours of almost uninterrupted sleep. Still, ten after six came too quickly.   

Continually interrupted sleep for a week before wreaks havoc on my system.  

Here's what happens when I deprive myself of sleep.  First of all, my immune system checks out in an act of rebellion.  My emotions hit a low of  an over tired three year old.  I tend to get angry/upset/laugh hysterically/talk incessantly faster than I can manage - reasonably.  My muscles tense, I become irrational, and my head screams like a monster in a jar.

Needless to say, I try to keep my sleep in check.  I look forward to bedtime.  I crave it.  Needless to say, so does everyone else.  I mean that everyone else appreciates when I get adequate sleep as well.  

And pumpkin hour approaches... but I wanted to stay up to try to catch the lights of the solar storm... I fear turning into a rat tomorrow... oh the choices.  Tick Tock... 

My 12 Steps to Serenity

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."  

This is my new mantra that I am grateful for.  And no, it didn't come with twelve steps...but then again perhaps it should have.  I could use twelve steps right about now. 

12 Steps Of Being Me

1.  I have accepted a Power greater than myself into my life.    

2.  I have accepted my short comings and admitted humbly that I am not perfect, but I will try to be a better person every day.  I will do this for myself.  

3.  I have decided no one shall have my power or energy without my consent.

4.  I have accepted I am beautiful beyond what a magazine shows me.

5.  I have accepted my brilliance is a gift, not a tool of intimidation.  

6.  I have accepted I cannot fix people, and I do not have to. I will not carry the burdens of others. 

7.  I have decided my life is a journey; one for me to learn, laugh and love.  Even the detours will prove experience worthy. 

8.  I have decided I do not need to back down when supporting my own best interest.  I am allowed to be right when I am right.

9.  I will apologize when I am wrong.

10.  I have accepted I am strong enough to be on my own, love myself enough to enjoy time on my own, and loving enough of others to share myself when I decide to.  

11.  I will make time for myself, meditation and my God, and in that, I will find peace. 

12.  I will forever remember there must be an "I" before there can ever be a "we". 

This is going on my fridge.  I just decided.  And with these steps comes Serenity.  That was much easier than I anticipated.  

And when there is a bend in the road along the journey, just follow the steps.  

Lucky 13

Thirteen years ago, I met my son.  My life has never been the same.  I became a mom, and my heart has never been the same.

Tonight I am so grateful for my son.  He is my knight in shining armor, and I am so proud of him.  There are no words tonight to describe the gratitude I have for the creator, for gifting me with such a beautiful child, nor words to thank my son for choosing me as his mom.

It's really quite simple tonight, I am grateful for my son and for being his mom.

Now if I could just stop crying every time I think of the time that has passed...

Do We Have Any Faith?

"Have some faith" I told my son.

He cocked his head at me.  "What does it look like? What does it smell like?  What does it taste like?  Do we have any of that here?"

He was being funny, and certainly knows there is no shortage of Faith in our house, and for that I am eternally grateful.  Without Faith, what would we have?

But it poses an interesting question.  If you had to make Faith tangible, what characteristics would it have?

I think, it would be illuminated, like a night light in the dark.  It would be a tall figure, with wide shoulders, strong enough to help me carry my burdens.  It would a sound like trains in the night, and midsummer rainstorms, but still be capable of the most immensely peaceful quiet.  It would feel like pure water, running gently over your hand.  It would smell like red roses in the morning, and a freshly bathed baby at night.  It would have a smile of a wondering child, and eyes of a wise elderly man.  And if it had a taste...it would taste like... butterscotch wafer candies.

Boy, faith is pretty great. :)

If you had to make your faith tangible, what would it be?

All A-Bored!

This blog has been manifesting itself over a period of days.  I have started it, fiddled with it, and posted two other blogs leaving this one stew for a while.  I have been tossing things around in my head.  I have had some time on my hands, and you know what they say..."idle hands..."

A long time ago, which sometimes seems like just yesterday, and in the perspective of things, really wasn't that long ago after all, I decided to make a conscious effort to be a better person.  I decided to change the path my life was on, explore by beliefs, my thoughts, my hopes and fears.  I decided I wanted to be able to look myself in the mirror and be OK with what I saw.  At the time, I thought this wouldn't be such a difficult skill to master. Boy was I wrong.

Being a person that can admire themselves for who they are is hard!  It is taking someone you were for so long, and shutting them away.  Like the cousin you don't want to admit you are actually related to.  Do I know whom?  That girl? Noooooooo... I don't even know who she is.

Conquering the shame of being someone you couldn't stand is the hardest part.  The second hardest part is fighting regression.  The third battle, I find, is ambition.

First of all, I am grateful for always wanting to be better than I was the day before.  Secondly, I am truly grateful for the person I have become.  I am grateful for the perseverance through dark times to remain kind, strive to be reasonable, and to remain an optimist.  No matter what happens today, the sun will rise up tomorrow - and there's not even a chance of stopping it.  That is one of Earth's finest elements in which my gratitude is born.

I often find myself drifting towards wanting to be better.  Be more stylish, be thinner, be healthier, be more assertive, be more, be more, be more.  When is more enough?  Will it ever be?  I have finally conquered the hurdle of trying to be enough for someone else.  I have attained a state of motherhood I am proud of.  Now it's time to work on being enough for me.

The question is, where to proceed, and with what?  Which track, which car, which train?  Maybe my map has been upside down the whole way...who can I ask about that?

Hmmm...this blog didn't even go anywhere near it's expected destination... another day, maybe.  I am tired of being bored.  All aboard...

Merry-Go-Round

My day was... like being on a merry-go-round, set in the middle of seven crossroads, all with roads leading out in different directions, spinning until I can't even see straight, and then someone stopping it in an instant, and saying "OK- get up and go."

Spinning. Spinning. Spinning.  

More questions in my head than answers, more wonder than fact, and none of it matters. 

Do this, don't do that.  Don't do that, do this... no, it doesn't matter what you want to do...  Argh!

Stop.

Someone reasonable talk me off the ledge, please.  

Whew...

I am grateful for reasonable thought, people that can talk me off my proverbial ledge, and for a direction, however temporary.  

I wonder, though, if I should be so grateful for my lack of caring which path I stumble down trying to make heads or tails of everyone else's decisions.

Cold

I stepped outside this morning into the unstirring cold.  The moon hung still in the sky, framed in my vision by my own frozen breath.  I wish I had taken a picture.  I told myself, again, to start carrying my camera with me every where.

Cold.

Biting.

I can feel the vitamin D draining out of me.

Grumpy... Impatient..Irritable... Cold.

I understand a bear's need to hibernate.  I would like a nap, well, at any given point in my day when it is this cold outside.

I am grateful for a warmer forecast, a rise in the temperatures.  For tonight, I am grateful for an electric blanket on my bed, and the end of a polar day.

Pressure Points

Have you ever touched your pain? 

Of course you have.  We, as humans, do it by instinct.  As soon as we feel pain, we reach for it, we cover it, we try to soothe it.  We try to redirect energy through ourselves to ease the sharpness.  Sometimes, all we have to do, is put our finger on it, gently, and push.  Push through the pain.

And isn't this how we move forward?  Push through the pain to a new place of peace?  

I woke up this morning with an ache behind the mask that stared at me from the mirror.  Dull, aching in the arches of my facial structure.  I lifted warm fingers to my face, placing them in the shadows and bridges that line my face.  I filled the ache with pressure, pointing at the pain, and pushing through it.  I could feel my pulse through my finger tips, thudding in panic.  As I let go, I could feel the release of the ache, and a sensation of peace fill the place where pain used to be.  It's an inexplicable peculiarity of sensation.  Pressure added to ache, forcing the pain out, releasing in peace.  

Pressure points in our beings, with a purpose of peace...I am grateful for them, and for the peace that can be reached when you push through the pain.

"Om Mani Padme Hum" 

 It's an old Tibetan mantra that brings my soul peace, when the pain and pressure are both too much for the shadows and bridges.  Quiet compassion for the pain, and a silent request for self awareness and peace. 

Where are your points of pain, and how much pressure have you got to push through the pain?  Sometimes, it just takes time.  Sometimes the pain reappears in a new place, hoping you can't catch it.  Push through, the release will be there, sooner or later.  Have Faith.  Let strength rise out of the pain into peace.  When all else fails, have quiet compassion for your pain, let it be, and give it time.

A Prickly List

Today is known as Blue Monday.  It's the day after the holidays where everything slows to a crawl, the joy dissipates, and persnickety nature prevails.

Ugh.

A few things are lingering on the dark side of my own being today.

First of all, let it be said that people who cannot motivate themselves will never get where they want to be.  Don't sulk about it if you aren't going to change your life.

Secondly - our society is so infatuated with diploma educated people, that it too often misses the importance of life experience - which may delve far beyond a diploma and twenty one years of life experience (*note* that would be twenty one years from birth!).  Society and all of it's branches of corporate wisdom need to get back to basics and recall the fundamentals of life and the value of experience.

Thirdly, if society, who is ultimately governed by well, the government, requires an educational hierarchy for success in employment, make education affordable!  Those who are wealthy are not necessarily smarter - they can just pay you to think they are!  Every human should have the right of affordable education.

Fourth on my list today and speaking of fundamentals of human nature and societal allowances... Does it make any sense to anyone at all that fast food is more affordable than freshly grown organic food?  And why, in a country that has hiked the cost of alcohol and tobacco to ensure our society is "healthier", does it allow the cost of gyms, fitness equipment and attempts to be a healthier person to sky rocket into an unattainable amount so that the average person can barely afford to be their perception of healthy?  And, to that, why does everyone think they need gyms, bow flex, etc to be healthy?  Go outside for crying out loud! And! Skinny does not equal healthy!

Cinco...that's right, a second language, I am cultured like that.  If you have nothing nice to say, don't.  Bambi rule - use it.  Gossip will get you no where.

Sixth batter up is house keeping - which, new flash folks, I DO NOT WORK FOR. Out side of anyone under the age of thirteen in my house, I am not your mommy - if you spill it, wipe it up, if you use it, wash it, and put it away.  Do not slam, stomp, and again, do not sulk about it!

Seven is my very favorite number, and I don't know why.  It just is.  So if you cannot spell it, or any other word, for that matter do not use a public web site where you are required to type, posting things that prove you may very well be a waste of educational money that could be going to someone who actually will put effort into learning.  If I see one more person spell "wat" instead of "what" on Facebook, I am going to loose my mind - or what is left of it.  Their, there, and they're are, indeed three different words!  Two words of advice - SPELL CHECK!

Octopus-ly eight:  it's winter, and we here, live in Alberta.  This means several things.  Wear a coat, and boots - a remarkable concept to keeping warm when it is minus thirty degrees outside.  It also means that ice is covering the road, do not drive like it is August.  Drive safely.  Which, in fact, does not mean that you need to drive ten kilometers an hour in a 60 zone to "arrive alive", as I may get out of my vehicle, run up to yours and attempt to kill you.  (no not really!  But seriously - this is where road rage is born!)

Nine - which feels like ninety today, be grateful for what you have, and that you have the freedom to speak your mind, or rant in lists, because although our government may not have our priorities straight all the time, we do, indeed live in a free country, where we don't have to pay for toilet paper in public facilities, and for the most part people will shrug off whatever it is that you are ranting about instead of arresting you.

Ten - I don't want to, and you can't make me, and I am grateful for that.

...I am prickly today...still grateful, just prickly.  It happens.

Sweet Nothings & Sweet Somethings

Sometimes one just needs a day.  A day to absorb, a day to rest, a day to just be.

This was my day.  I sat, I read, I drank some tea.  I became part of my chair, wrapped in a blanket, fighting sleep despite the 10 hours I captured last night.

It was a day filled with sweet nothings, and I am grateful for quiet days of replenishment.

And then my sweet children came home, and topped off my day with sweet somethings.  Ice cream and sprinkles, completed stories to read, paintings to hang, and the sweetest of somethings, "I love you"s.

A balance of sweet nothings, and sweet somethings to be grateful for.

Tá Tú Grá

Have you ever wondered if you have spent life times before with someone in your life?  Have you ever known someone that no matter what circumstance is, was, or will be, will always remain part of who you are?  Have you ever suspected that perhaps your connection with another human being is eternal?  

I have a sister of my soul that reaches beyond all understanding, all capacity of Earthly emotion, and all limits of time.  I am grateful for her. Not just today, but for lifetimes.  I am grateful for her even when I don't want to be, and she understands.  She can hear me, even when I don't want her to.  I can feel her always, and I can hear her like a whisper on the wind.  

She told me today "tá tú grá - you are loved", and one moment in time stopped while I caught my breath, and smiled. And I say to her in return "tá tú grá mo chara".  For today and always.  

I am grateful for the elements of the Earth that provide balance, and for the things that Universe knows better than I.  Nameste. 

Write On

Let me tell you a little story.

Once upon a time, I wrote some books.  I went through a complicated process, and got two published.  It was all very exciting.  Then, with those two books, I did a book signing at Chapters.  Because of the nature of Noah's Star, there were news crews, cameras, journalists, and a lot of people.  I fulfilled not only a goal, but a life dream.  The End.

Short story, no?

After the euphoria of the experience dissipated, I was left with an unexpected question for myself... "Now what?".  What does one do after they have achieved their life goal at 33 years old?  It was all very stunning to me.  I felt as if I had nothing left to achieve.  I wanted to publish a book, and I did.  I wanted to have a book signing at Chapters, and I did that too.  And now I have two thirds of my life left, and very few life achievement goals.  So now what?  I am still trying to find the answers.

I started searching avenues of new publishers, Canadian publishers that may make the marketing process a little easier, and more tangible.  It was frustrating, and discouraging, and very disheartening.  Publishing a book is not an easy task.  People always ask for my advice, and usually it's less than what they wanted to hear.  People think getting a book published is easy.  They are wrong.  My own struggles were enough to deter me from continuing and stopped me from writing children's book all together.  It took the joy out of writing.

And so, now I write only for those people who wish to read it, and take something away from it - even if it is just to enjoy the words of another human being.  I find it grounding, and therapeutic, and I look forward to knowing that people read it, and enjoy it.  I am grateful for the return of my love for writing over the past few months.

Last night, as I tried to drift to sleep, words started to fill my head.  Sentences grew like voices on a play ground, and I knew the inevitable outcome.  It happens every time.

Today, after many years of failed attempts, and of beautiful moments where my children were smarter than I, I accomplished a new book.  A new book for them, a new book for me.  A new book for families, and broken hearts, and I am grateful for that as well.  I am hoping for the sweet grace of courage to nudge me towards a publisher again.  I know this one needs to be on the shelf.  For every child of a separated family, this one's for you.

If you would like to read it, I will post it at the bottom here.  If not, that's ok too.

Love and light my friends, and as always, I shall write on.

I Didn’t Decide

( Jennifer Marcotte 2012)

I didn’t decide.

And it’s not ok.  I didn’t decide.

This is my life, and sometimes, I think it’s unfair, because it’s not what I decided.

I used to hear them argue, and it was dark, and I was supposed to be asleep, but I wasn’t because I couldn’t .  I was afraid, and it made my muscles tight, and my heart beat fast, and I just wanted them to stop. 

And sometimes in the morning, it would be ok.  But not.  Not the same.  But maybe it would be ok, and everything would be normal again. 

He was nice to her today, and she smiled, and she was nice to him, and he smiled.  Maybe they decided to try harder to be nicer.  I decided that was better. 

He went outside, “for a walk”, he decided.  I could hear her in the hallway, even though she decided to close the door, probably so I wouldn’t hear.  But that’s not what I decided.  I opened the door, and sat quiet with her, and just held her hand, because she’s my mom, and nothing else mattered except her tears...and that’s because I decided. 

I decided that I don’t want to be ten, if this is what ten is all about.  Everyone else is deciding, and I just want to be a kid in a family that isn’t broken.  I just want them to stop it.

Did I decide that?  For them to stop it?  Because now, dad is moving to a new house, and we have to be apart, because that’s what they decided was best – and this is not what I decided at all.  I didn’t mean it.  I didn’t decide this.

Mom is sad, and we are sad, and Dad is sad.  Who decided this?

And then some time went by, and so much was different.   There were two houses, and I decided, mostly, it wasn’t that bad.  I decided that I wasn’t so different from everyone else, because there were other kids had two houses too.   And I wasn’t the only one that didn’t get to decide.  I decided that no more arguing was better than arguing, and smiles were better than tears.  And if parents have to be apart to be happy, well, I decided that I still don’t understand it, but maybe I will one day.  I still wonder if this is what they meant to decide. 

I still hear mom behind the door down the hall sometimes, but she taught me that I am a kid, and I don’t have to fix their decisions, and I decided that was ok with me.  And I decided that sometimes I can, and sometimes, I decide to still hold her hand, so she knows that sometimes it’s ok if I try.  Because that’s what I decided. 

Dad takes us fishing and to the go carts, and camping, and we have fun together now.  I decided I like that – a lot.  I wonder if Mom knows how fun he is.  I still don’t understand why it couldn’t be like this before.  Maybe I’ll decide to ask one day.  But not today. 

Mom decided that we should celebrate being a team, just us, because she says “we will always be part of each other”, and I decided I like that a lot, too.  Sometimes, she just decides we should go somewhere, and we do, and she smiles all the time.  I think her smile is incredible.  I wonder if dad used to think her smile was incredible.  I wonder if she ever knew.  I wonder if this all will make sense when I am thirteen.

Everything changes, all the time.   I don’t always get to decide, but more and more, as time carried on, they started to ask my opinion, and sometimes when I can, I get to decide.  I decided that I like to decide – when I can. 

Sometimes it’s easier to not be the one deciding all the time.  I decided, that maybe, my parents felt that way once – that they were tired of always being the ones deciding.  And so they stopped.

Now, we all choose to try to be happy in our new lives.  We have all decided that smiles are better than tears, and laughter is better than anger.  Mom and Dad decided to try to be friends, so that my decisions wouldn’t be so hard all the time, and I decided that was very grown up of them.  Maybe one day, I will decide to be as grown up as them, but, for right now, I decided I like being a kid, even if I didn’t decide it all.  

"Team Us", Goin' to Banff

I was going to blog about the book I am reading today, as a continuation of yesterday's post, but I am not going to.  I think there will be plenty of posts about this book in the near future.  It is profound, and metaphorical, and a little bit magical.  I read a quarter of it last night - in an hour and half.  Read it.  It's good, I promise.

But I am not going to blog about it today.

There is something else on my mind.

I have booked a trip to Banff to spend some time with my kids.  Just my kids and me.  No one else.  Just us three.  Let me tell you a bit about the struggle, and perhaps some of the past posts of last week or so will puzzle piece themselves into making a bit more sense.  I have put off this trip for some time now, out of fear of hurt feelings, out of guilt of leaving out some people.  It turns out, I hurt my own feelings, and left myself, and my kids out - out of time that we deserve together.

Here's the thing I have come to realize - I do not have a conventional family unit.  My decisions of past have impacted not only my life, but my children's, and I made a promise a long time ago to myself, and to my children, that beyond everything else in life, we - just the three of us- matter.  We will always have each other, even if the rest of the world disappeared, we would still have us.  We are all part of each other.  I also made a promise to, at least once a year, celebrate that relationship.  That means that at least once a year, the three of us go somewhere, or do something that involves no one else but the three of us.  I think every parent should do this with their children - divorce torn family or not.  You deserve time together.

This isn't to say that no one else matters.  The other people in our lives matter very much, and it's not that we want to be without them, it's just that we need to celebrate where we began, and what will always remain. I am grateful for the relationship I have with my children, and for the realization and correction of leaving "us" out.

When I suggested this trip, there was some negotiation of "team us".  My beauties were so thrilled at the thought, they both opted out of birthday parties this year in order to afford the weekend away, and I thought to myself "that's how left out they have been".  Wow.  And so, I started to search and plan, and suggest things, and ask what they wanted to do.  Dog sled? No.  Canyon Ice Crawl?  No.  Anything?  Yes.  "Mom, we just want to be there - just us."  Insert tears here.  They want to see the Museum of Natural History, they want to walk around town, they want to go to the candy store and creamery they have heard so many stories of, and they want to sit in the hot springs.  They want to eat Kit-Kats on the hotel beds (a story all in its own), and eat dinner together.  Together.  That's all.

I am incredibly in love with my kids.  I am grateful for the memories they will have after our trip, and the stories they will tell, and the smiles they will have when think about the time "Team Us" went to Banff.

"Team Us" in Edmonton on our last celebration - September 2010.

Extremely Loud...Incredibly Close

Well, I have not a darn thing to say tonight... nothing profound to be found tonight.

I think, I will just curl up with a book in bed, and call this day done.  I picked up a new book to pour into, and I can't wait to get past page three without someone interrupting me, and I am grateful to be reading it with a friend - I love book talk.  

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

The title couldn't be closer to some of my feelings.  Yesterday, Shelly and I mused over the word "sonorous".  It's a word that means deep resonating sound, like the echo of a cave.  I think it perfectly describes some things I have been feeling lately.   Extremely loud...incredibly close... Voices in my head, extremely loud.  Incredibly close to finding some emotion.  And a sonorous rumble in my soul...  I am grateful for the rumble, and I am grateful today for Shelly's blog post that stirred some emotion, and welled my eyes with tears.  "Follow me" ... sonorous.  Read it, you will be grateful. 

http://365ss.blogspot.com/2012/01/these-two-words.html

I will be grateful, I think, if any of this makes any sense at all tonight.  

Puzzles of Non-Sensicle Nightmares

After a very long night of gripping fear, sonorous winds, and ridiculous non-sensicle random thought, I am grateful for the break of day and reality.

My night was long, and dark despite the full moon in the sky.  My muscles rejected the energy being forced through them, making the nightmares in my head not only terrifying, but fitful.  There were voices, and animals, and faceless people, clocks ticking, a gypsy market, a healer, an accomplice, a missed time and place to be...and... a sausage roll.  Yes.  A sausage roll.

I don't know...

I always try to put the puzzles together the morning after, even though, most times, there's no way any of it could ever make sense.  I remember a few months ago, every dream I had included Steve Buscemi.  No, I hadn't watched a movie with him in it, I hadn't read anything, I hadn't even thought, nor would I think of Steve Buscemi unless playing some twisted Hollywood trivia game.  All I could say was "why Steve Buscemi?"

How does our cerebral cortex come up with the things we dream?  What synapse fires to place me in a gypsy market (do I even know what that is?) beside 7/11, meeting a healer who instead of healing, puts me to sleep somehow, waking groggy, confused and very, very angry and afraid.  And...what in the heck does a sausage roll have to do with anything and why is it scary?  Oh I would love to have someone explain this to me without laughing hysterically.

Oh my... yes, I am grateful for reality.

 Yep, it makes as much as sense as this puzzle - 

all the pieces are different, yet the same, and capable of paralyzing fear.  

24 Hours - My Way

An hour and a half of my morning was filled with a brilliant conversation I am so grateful for,  that resulted in a timeless, yet not often enough used question - "What if you had 24 hours to live?  How would you choose to live it?". That is what we need to ask ourselves every morning.  What is important today?  What is important right now?  Who am I going to impact today by the choices I make, and if I have to look back it all from a different plane of existence, can I be purely satisfied with the impact I had?

Sure, we all aren't going to get up every day and ask ourselves this question.  We are all far too busy running rampant through our lives, trying to get as much done as possible, and for some of us, like myself, trying to accomplish everything, but maintaining peace by keeping everyone happy - regardless of my own needs or feelings.  But what if we did?  What if we woke up every morning, and as we stretched our legs and shook ourselves awake, mentally questioned our purpose of the day?  

~ ~

"I have learned that you always have to ask yourself what's important now, and have your voice on what really matters.  What doesn't matter - don't waste your energy on it, and it's okay to say to someone "we are going to have to agree to disagree".  We all have to give and take, but what happens too often with people like us, is we give and give and don't know how to take and put ourselves first. We allow ourselves to get worked up and think we need to solve all the problems even if truthfully they don't concern us.  If we can let that go, we can actually find peace.  We need to learn to let others, including our children, fail so they learn.  It is not always a reflection of us as people, but our ability to let them learn.  It may be tough, but is a necessary task.  We are responsible for our legacies and happiness, and how we allow others to mold us - some for the better, but some, we must admit, for the worse.  The trick is to remember it is our choice what we allow."    ...the brilliance and warm hearted lecture of my amica stretta.  I love, love, love her.  

~ ~

What if we woke up every day, and said "today will be full of purpose, and today will be meaningful.  I will put away harsh words, and think before I speak.  I will tell my children I love them a hundred times today, and I will share a smile and some time with a friend.  I will make my own needs as important as the needs of those around me, and I will not feel guilt for my values, opinions or decisions.  I will be aware of what is important right now, and let the rest fall wayside.  Today will be what it will be, but at the end of the day, I will know I tried to make today good.  If tomorrow comes without me, no one will question my love for them, and they will remember me with a smile." 

This whole conversation really made me think.  And the Universe seems to be shoving a lesson in my face, since I seem to be hard of hearing lately.  As I drove along a road this morning, the sky was filled with tumultuous pink clouds, stacked high, one on top of the other, shades of blue and purple whispering hints of the night that was and golden streams of sunlight showing promise of the day to come.  As I watched it, I recited the familiar "pink sky in the morning, sailors take warning" with a heavy sigh.  But just on the horizon, in the west, was a break in the sky.  A silver hole in the clouds, lining a burst of blue sky.  A pause in the warning, a chance to let a voice break in, an opportunity to burn up the tempered cover of the day.  

  

So, today, if I had 24 hours to live, how would I live it?  A lot damn louder than I have been, that's for sure! So many things have come to mind today that I have set aside to spare someone else's feelings or because they "don't want to".  My twenty four hours would be filled with a reminder that I don't live in fear, I live in love.  Challenge, adventure, and living every day to be a better person - that's what my twenty fours will be. And the next twenty four, and the twenty four after that.  

And that means...

Today I will have a voice.  I will not feel guilt for the things I feel, or the things I must accomplish in order to shape my legacy.  My decisions will be my own, and will come without an explanation developed to please others.  I will take pride in the person I am, and I will not quiet my voice in a cloak of invisibility.  I will do what I need to make me happy, and if that means that I have to sacrifice pleasing someone else, well, so be it.  It is not my life journey to fix, carry, or please other people.  I was born of a fire sign, and I will not be ashamed of my own inner fire.  I will find something I am passionate about, and I will fill my time with it.  I will love my children before all others, and again, if that is displeasing, it will not affect me.  I will be what I need to be for myself, and the impact that will have on others will shape my legacy.  This is my time, this is my life, this is me.  

This claim I stake is shouted out through a fear that has spawned itself.  It is breaking free of my passive aggressive nature of late.  It is being of free spirit, and one that will not be broken.  If I am surrounded by people that can not see past their own needs, I will set them free from my space, and breathe clean air.  I am  not yours to mold with your wishes.  I will decide, I am stronger. I will choose.  

Now how's that for a Monday morning?!

Restraint

Restraint:  The loss or abridgment of freedom; Control or repression of feelings.  

And an "aha!" moment.

I have taught myself a lot of restraint in the past...let's say...5 years.  I have learned to restrain over zealousness, I have learned to restrain impulse.  I have learned to restrain anger, and I have learned to restrain words that have bite, that break windows of glass houses.  For the most part, I am grateful for the restraint I have learned, and for the application of restraint in my life.  It is very hard, continuous work.

But there are days...  Lord, are there days...

I used to be a very passionate person; very emotional, very involved, very intense.

Used to be...

Hmmmmmmmmmm.

Is it possible, that the restraint that I have worked so hard to implement in my life has cast a shadow over my emotional self?  Have I learned so much restraint, that my emotions are now restrained?  Am I ok with that?  Is being controlled, even by oneself, something to be grateful for?

The "aha" moment?  Is it that I am lonely for my passionate, feeling, emotional self?  Yes...Yes I am.

Time to get off the fence... and reacquaint myself with a lack of restraint. And when I find my voice again, I will be Grateful.  

Clearly Crazy

I talked out some things tonight.  Some oddities and neuroses of my own that have developed of late,  and let me tell you what, I have one of the best friends a girl could ask for - my amica stretta.  Do you know what her answer to some of my "why"s was?  "Because you're crazy - clearly".

With a glass of wine, and big comfy leather sofa's, and the quiet of her house, it is exactly what I needed to hear - oddly.  No reasonable explanation, no attempt at fixing, no reasoning it out for me - just "you're nuts, stop it, do what makes you happy and stop caring if you hurt someone's feelings".

I am grateful for honestly and clarity, and for being crazy - clearly.

What If?

I woke up lonely this morning.  That's the only word that fits.  Lonely, but with no idea what I was lonely for.  Not alone, not sad, not upset - just lonely - and out of sorts.  And it stayed with me all day, making me want to wrap in "something" to soothe the feeling.  And in an odd irony, I distanced myself, noticeably, from everyone in my day.  Nothing seems to be the right fit to fill the void.

I don't know what I dislike more, the void, or not being able to recognize the void.

~~

I thought a lot about this.  I sat, I stewed, I searched.  It took me back to forty five minutes of time last night.  Forty five minutes of "not yet"s.  My little girl crawled into bed with me, and laid so close to me it was like she was wearing me over her skin.  It was so quiet, and we talked in almost whispers, with the soft glow of my salt lamp filling my room.  We played "what if", one of our very favorite things to do.  "If you had to choose one food to eat for the rest of your life, what would it be?  What if you could spend a day with a celebrity, who would it be?"  I don't know who fought more of her returning to her own bed, her - or me.  I kept whispering "not yet" in my soul, she said it out loud.  Five more minutes, three more minutes...not yet.

I am grateful for "What If".

~~

And so, in a life so blessed, where my family surrounds me, and my friends are close and treasured, why would I feel lonely...is it lonely?  What is it that is out of sorts, so to speak?  Have I just been missing my feet on the Earth and my face in the Sun?  Did I miss a conversation with the Moon?  Have I been true to myself in what I need?  Is it possible to be lonely for emotion? For tears?  For insatiable passion, and exhausting laughter?  Is it possible to be lonely for a place?  For mountain air, and clean streams, and open water?

There is some exploration to be done, and I am grateful for the recognition of that, and the willingness to do the work.

~~

What if you could change one moment in your time?  Would you?

If you had to choose to live as an animal, what would it be?  What about insect?

If you could spend some days in a place just to yourself, where would you go?

If you could change something about yourself, what would you change? Anything?

What if... what if... what if... if...if...  What is.  I am.  

Salty Serenity

I have a doozie of a headache, but here I am, tied to this blog, like a theraputic lifeline.

I have prepared my spot of serenity that i shall retreat to as soon as I post this-God willing.  I am so grateful for places of quiet, of hidden retreats, and for the soft glow of my rose quartz salt lamp.  It lights a fast path to peacefulness for me. 

And so I will retreat, safe in my serenity. Love and Light my friends.

Internet Interrupted

I have spent all day without an internet connection-something about reconfiguring a port, blah, blah, Charlie Brown adult "whawhawhawhawhawha".  Even now, I am blogging from my blackberry. I will keep it short and sweet.

I am grateful sometimes when there is a lack of technology, when projects become completed, and everyone sits down for a family meal in a sparkling kitchen.  I am grateful for simplicity and the productive nature that grows from it.

(I am aso grateful that tomorrow, won't have to blog from my phone. This is not an easy task!)

: (

Speechless

Sometimes... there are things that occur, that I have no words for.  I have no understanding.  There are no words to make it ok, there are no words to soothe, and so I am met with silence.  I have nothing to say that would matter, and tonight I am more grateful for silence than I am for explanations or excuses.

I am grateful sometimes for failure when I can't understand the cracks.

Wide Open Spaces

Winter always gives me cabin fever.  I feel compacted, reserved and bound.  My soul becomes restless with the starkness of the days, the lack of light, and the frigid air.  I find myself dissatisfied with the complacency of every day life, the mundane bleariness, the Earth lacking color, lacking scents, and blooms, creatures and friendly songs.  It's only January, with months of this season ahead, and we have been blessed with a gentle, warm winter thus far.  I fear the wanting of spring will be met with wrath, and Mother Nature and I shall do a dance of wits.

I crave warm breezes and fields; my soul yearns for wide open spaces.  If I close my eyes, and breathe deep, I can almost take myself where a tree stands, tall and strong.  It bends when it needs to bend, and stands strong, rooted deep.  I can see the clouds whispering across the sky, painting tales for dreamers.  I can feel the tall grass brushing across my legs, I can see for a mile in every direction.  The wind is at my back, breaking over a ridge off the river.

My day dreams shall carry me through the stark winter, and take me to spaces where my feet can feel the Earth.  They will take me to a place where the smell of leaves, and fields, and flowers fill my senses.  And in my dreams I will crumble the soil in my hands, reacquainting myself with Earth, and give to it gifts of growth and life.  My nights will be filled with sky dances on moon beams, and summer rains, freshness and light.

This is my place where the world is right, my soul is free, and even in the recesses of my mind, there are wide open spaces. I am grateful for daydreams, and wide open spaces.

Coming Home

One of the trickiest things about divorce is the requirement to share the things you have an undying mutual love for.  It's not always hard, but it's not always easy-peasy.  After seven years, I am skilled, but certainly not a master.

My kids have been gone since Boxing Day.  That's exactly seven days, and that's exactly my limit before missing them becomes too much for me.

I got a message from them at 12:03 this morning, wishing me a Happy New Year, and I cried tears as the New Year rang in, as missing them was beginning to consume me.  I waited all day for them to come home, anticipating hugs and kisses and smothering cuddles.  And when they walked through the door, my gratitude level was like the strong man hammer ringing the bell at the fair.

I am grateful for my kids coming home.  I am grateful that we missed each other, and I am grateful for the sleep we shall all have under one roof.

I miss my kids when they are gone, and I am grateful for them coming home.

I didn't even mind playing Uno for two hours, most of the time loosing to my daughter.  In fact, I enjoyed every second - because we were home.