Ped Xing

My instructor said today that people come to my school because they are at a crossroads in their lives.  At school they learn about themselves and how to navigate their way through this part of their lives.  Oh, and they learn massage, too, which is what keeps them grounded and focused while they're figuring out the other stuff. 

Obviously, this is true for me.  I found Irene's school because I am at a crossroads.  I just really had no idea how big the intersection was...

Frustration

Today has been frustrating on so many levels.  At the top of the list was a home renovation project I've been working on.  Today, all I had to do was to hang curtains: put up two rods and hang the curtains.  Unfortunately, home improvement projects have a way of never being as simple as they initially appear to be.  At least for me.  This one luckily didn't require any trips to Home Depot, but something that should have been simple and taken a very short period of time has taken me all day (off and on) -- and the curtains still aren't up yet!

The thing I've noticed is that, despite the many frustrations of the day, I am still in a relatively good mood.  And there were no tears.  I have no explanation but I will look at this as proof that perhaps, for the time being, I have become a bit more emotionally stable.  I'm not confident enough to think that this is a permanent state, but it's certainly a nice change to be able to face a mountain of frustrations and maintain a calm demeanor and a dry eye.

I am hoping that tomorrow will see the successful end of the curtain debacle, preferably without any more setbacks.  I don't see any solutions in sight for the other frustrations, but I'm not going to let that get me down.  Not today.

Negative vs Positive

I've been spending a lot of time today wondering if perhaps there are just too many negatives in my life and not enough positives.  Or if maybe I'm just focusing too much on the negatives.  In therapy, we seem to focus on the negatives in order to fix them, and while the end goal is positive, it has us concentrating on all those negatives much of the time.  I wonder if I've forgotten how to celebrate the positives -- or if there are just so few left that the occasion seldom arises.

Time Crunch

Over the past while, I have become acutely aware of a serious lack of time in my life.  Part of this is due to me going to school, part of it is likely due to the impending whirlwind that is the Holidays and part of it is, no doubt, due to me being just plain terrible at time management.  Regardless of the reasons, I have noticed that I just don't have time to do all the things I want to do.

I could easily spend more time doing homework and studying than I do now.  I would like to put a few more hours into cleaning the house (on a regular basis).  I need to paint/renovate my dining room and turn it into my own little massage haven.  I have a very large backlog of books I would like to read.  I would like to bake cookies (Christmas and otherwise).  I want - and need - to write.  I require new shoes (for those of you unaware, I have very hard to fit feet so shoe shopping takes a vast amount of time).  And the list goes on...

The interesting thing about the above list is that it's comprised of things that I want to do.  Honestly, I can't remember a time in the recent past when I've really wanted to do anything.  I am feeling oddly inspired lately to get things done, which is a rather new and exciting feeling for me.  The biggest thing holding me back is the time in which to get it all done. 

I know it's a problem most people have, but it's a new one for me.  For years I had all the time in the world (or so it seemed) and no desire to do anything with it.  I'm not sure how long this burst of inspiration will last, but I hope it's long enough for me to get at least some of it done.

Depression

Yesterday I had a 4-hour lecture on "Emotional Response" which was designed to cover the basic concepts of emotions and how massage therapy can elicit various kinds of emotional responses in people: some good, some bad and some completetly unexpected.  As myomassologists, we need to be prepared to deal with any and all cathartic moments that may occur in the scope of our practice.

We discussed the basics of emotions, different schools of thought from leading psychologists on what emotions are, how we identify them, how we learn to deal with them, especially as children, and how that can affect us throughout our lives.  In this part of the the lecture, we touched on Depression, which was described in our literature as "another internalizing problem that is related to the emotion of sadness".  It goes on to explain that people who are depressed may: feel sad, be irritable, lose interest or pleasure in activities they previously enjoyed, sleep too much/little, lose their appetites/eat more than usual, be agitated, be tired, have difficulty thinking/concentrating, feel worthless/hopeless/helpless/guilty and have low self-esteem.  As I was reading through this list, it became a personal checklist -- and all the little boxes on the checklist were neatly ticked off.

I will admit that this did not come as a huge surprise to me.  I have felt like this for most of my adult life and have many times wondered if I was, indeed, depressed because it seemed to me that it just wasn't normal to feel how I so often do.  I was pretty sure most other people didn't feel this way, at least on a regular basis.  And I was also pretty sure that when other people had bad days, it wasn't quite as debilitating as when I did.  I also did not know anyone else who, like me, spent 3 weeks sitting on the couch last winter, unable to get up and make herself do anything but the bare minimum required to keep her children fed and functioning. 

I don't know why I never really discussed this with anyone or tried to do any kind of research, but I didn't.  Until yesterday.  I showed my little checklist to my husband, who agreed with all my little tick marks and said that our therapist had once told him (likely last winter during my couch episode) that I was depressed.  So last night at therapy, the topic came up - in a roundabout kind of way - and sure enough, my therapist did indeed say that he thought I was prone to depression, which gets worse every now and then.

Huh.

I'm not sure I entirely agree with my therapist because I think it's always there -- it's just that most days I'm fairly capable of ignoring it or at least working around it.  Other times, when things get a little too overwhelming, it gets the better of me.  For the past few weeks, I've been walking a very fine line.  I'm still functioning but there have been many days when the swirling mass of sadness that hovers above threatens to descend and smother me.

I'm not sure that knowing I'm depressed - or even prone to depression - is going to help or change anything, although at least now I know I haven't completely lost it.  What I do hope is that this knowledge will help the people I am close to understand me just a little bit better.

Breathe

It's amazing what happens when the world slows down, and I have had a wonderfully slow today.  As I promised myself a couple of weeks ago, I have run away for a day or two, and while this little hiatus is not as long as I might have wished for, it is proving to be just long enough to have a positive and uplifting effect on my mood and my spirit.

The day started off slowly due, in part, to the repercussions of a late night and one drink too many but it also continued slowly, even after the remnants of the hangover fell away.  I spent the day with my best friend and we went out for lunch, enjoying food that I love but that the rest of my family is not so keen on.  We then spent the afternoon perusing a number of little shops, all of which happened to sell gemstones and crystals, and I added a few new stones to my collection.  (As it turns out, all the stones I chose today are grounding stones and are good for balancing emotions.)

In the course of the day, I remembered what a life without stress is like.  Today there was no emotional stress (thinking about my place in the world and my troubled marriage) and there was no time pressure (school, homework, kids, lessons, dinner, eek!).  I may not have had any epiphanies or come to any grand conclusions about life, but at least my head stopped spinning and I was able to unclench my teeth.  Just for a day, I was able to just be, just breathe.  Which was just what I needed. 

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

I used to be a social being, possibly to the point of excess.  In my younger years, between school, work and my social life, the only time I spent at home was sleeping -- of which I did precious little.  Even as I grew older, I maintained a fairly healthy social calendar.  When I moved to Germany and didn't really have any friends, I still went out frequently.  I never let the lack of a social network deter me so I went to movies and to dance clubs (discos, as they are called there) alone.  As recently as a few years ago, I still maintained a steady habit of going to movies or out for drinks with friends, even though I got strange looks from the other moms as to why I went out with my friends "so often".  I never questioned it - that was just a part of who I was.

It dawned on me lately that I haven't been to see a movie in at least 6 months (aside from, perhaps, a film or two with the children) and I haven't been out with friends more than once or twice in the same time period.  I just don't go out anymore.  It's not that I don't have friends, I just don't make much effort to contact them or make any initiative to see them.

At school, while I am slowly getting to know some of the other students (I am actually quite shy so this is work for me even at the best of times) I have lunch alone.  My husband can not understand this.  In the same situation, he would know everyone by the end of the first day and would have lunch with a crowd every day of the week.  He is a pro at networking.  I am not.  However, I also used to be much better at putting myself out there than I currently am. 

So, I'm not making new friends and I'm not going out with my old friends, both of which are fairly unusual behaviours for me.  The question I asked myself, naturally, is "why?" and the only answer I could come up with is that I just don't think I'm very good company for anyone.  I find it incredibly difficult to put on a happy face for any length of time so unless I'm with the few friends I have who don't expect that of me, it's just way too much effort to be around other people.

While I don't mind seclusion and being solitary every once in a while (it IS good for the soul), this is getting to be a bit much.  I hope things turn around soon - or even eventually.  I kind of miss having fun. 

Leaving

I'm going to run away - at least for a while.  If I didn't have so many commitments (primarily school and the children) I would no doubt be dreaming of a much longer, more involved getaway.  One that at least involved me getting on an airplane, preferably to somewhere mountainous.  However, given my current situation (timely & monetary) I have scaled down my dreams to something much simpler: I will go somewhere and be gone at least one night.  My schedule is rather hectic and there are plans every weekend this month, leaving me with precious little time to go anywhere.  Luckily, my husband has booked 3 weeks off of work so I am hoping for at least a little mid-week interlude on a couple of the days when I have no classes.

It may not sound like much of an escape, but right now I will take what I can get.  I desperately need to remove myself from my current circumstances.  My life is in such constant turmoil that I need to find some other space in which to breathe, to purify and to cleanse -- if that's at all possible. 

Presently, my mind won't stop spinning, not a day goes by without me crying and I have been clenching my teeth for weeks on end.  I had a 50-minute massage in class today -- with my jaw firmly flexed nearly the entire time.  Who does that?

So I'm leaving. 
Not on a jet plane. 
Don't know when I'll be back again.  But I will be back.  Well, some version of me will return, which I hope will be one that is a little more relaxed and a lot more stable. 

Oh, babe, I can't wait to go.

Homeostasis

In school I'm always hearing about homeostasis: "a relatively stable state of equilibrium or a tendency toward such a state between the different but interdependent elements or groups of elements of an organism, population, or group." (Merriam-Webster)  Basically, it means that our bodies are constantly seeking balance.  At school, we are generally referring to physiological homeostasis, but the term can also be applied quite generally as well.

Over the past few days I've been able to observe myself seeking homeostasis.  I have not, by any means, been actively trying to balance myself, but it's happening - at least a little - whether I like it or not.

On Wednesday evening, I had what I shall refer to as an emotional breakdown.  A lot of things that I'd been keeping suppressed finally decided they needed to come out, which they did.  In force.  When it was over, I felt as if I had nothing left, as if I were broken.  I felt this way for a couple of days before I noticed that each day I felt a little bit better, even though nothing had changed.  Then today I felt somewhat buoyed by my son's birthday party and noted that I was looking forward to Halloween tomorrow.  It was nice to know that I was still capable of smiling and finding pleasure in some small aspects of my life. 

If you had asked me on Wednesday night if I thought that would be possible, I would have said "no".  But we humans are very interesting creatures.  What I'm learning is that despite everything that may be happening, our bodies will seek balance.  Even when we are down, we will (eventually) be able to see a silver lining somewhere, even if we're not really looking for it.  I won't always feel empty and broken, because my body won't let me. 

A Single Quote

"Looking in the mirror, staring back at me isn't so much a face as the expression of a predicament."
- Prof. George Falconer (Colin Firth) in 'A Single Man'

Rebel Yell

I've been in a miserable mood off and on for the past week.  There has been lots going on, both emotionally and otherwise, but somehow my mood never seemed to be related to the current highs or lows of my emotional state.  I obviously knew something was bothering me, but couldn't quite figure it out -- until today.

Today I remembered that I really - and I mean really - don't like being told what to do.  I'm sure anyone who knows me well enough will attest to that.  In a school or work situation, I'm ok with it but in my personal life, I really don't respond well to having other people ordering me around.  There's too much rebel in me.

I found this realization a little amusing because for the most part I think I've become tame - age does that to us - and I often wonder what has become of the individualist I used to be.  Well, it turns out she's still in there and she will make herself known if you try to tell me what to do. 

So while I don't particularly enjoy being miserable, I'm much more accepting of it now that I know the reason for it.  Because underneath it all I quite like that part of me.  The part that won't go softly into this good night when told to go there.  I might still go, but not without a good loud rebel yell.

Alone

Every once in a while, despite my best efforts to ignore and subdue, I realize that I am alone.  Whether or not I am physically alone is mostly irrelevant.  The fact is that I feel alone almost all the time - and have done for at least the last 24 years.  I have never felt that I fit in, that I am understood.  It has been proven time and again that I don't fit in, that I am not understood, that I just don't think like the masses.  And while independent thinking is, perhaps, a good trait to have, the result for me is that I feel very alone.

I'm sure there are a few people who would be surprised to hear this, for I have many friends.  I have 245 "friends" on Facebook and countless real life "friends" all over the world.  I am very close to some of these people and I can pour my heart out to them if I wish to (and sometimes I do).  But in the end, when the conversation is over, I go back to being alone.  It's a feeling I can never seem to shake, no matter how hard I try.

And I do try.  I don't like being alone or feeling alone and I don't think I should feel alone. Quite honestly, I'm tired of feeling this way.  I am married, I have a family, I go to school, I have an active social life and seem to have plenty of people around me often enough.  All of that should mean something; stand for something; provide me with something.  Sometimes it does, but never for long enough.  And sometimes I am successful at ignoring the loneliness, but never for long enough.

Sparkle and Shine

I started writing a post a couple of weeks ago but never got it finished.  In fact, I don't think I even finished the first sentence (although I was much further along in my head).  The post was in response to a surprise phone call I got from a dear old frined.  This friend and I don't speak often and luckily that hasn't ever managed to diminish our friendship.  Because we hadn't talked in so long, we had a lot of catching up to do.  As I went about filling him in on various developments in my life over the past few months (year?) he commented that I have my sparkle back.  Not only did I love the way he worded his observation, but it was yet another confirmation that I have chosen the right path.

Unfortunately, the tide turned soon after that conversation and a number of factors in my personal life had me starting on a(nother) downward spiral into depression.  Luckily that only lasted a couple of days before I was able to pull myself back up.  I'm sure school played a roll in that as well, as it shifted my focus to anatomy, rather than the world at large that I was sure was conspiring against me.

This weekend I had a 16-hour seminar in Polarity, which is a form of energy work/healing.  In the course of the day on Sunday, we did some work that touched upon some areas that I obviously still need to work on.  I still have a lot of emotional and spiritual work to do and there are still some deeply covered wounds that need to be healed.

So while I may have had my sparkle back a couple of weeks ago, I think it has dimmed to a shimmer.  But knowing I was sparkly for even a short while gives me hope that I may someday figure out how to make my sparkle stick around.

Building Courage

I had my first class last Friday.  It was my "Hands On" class, but being the first one I really had no idea what to expect.  I knew there would be some sort of orientation but beyond that, I was prepared to just do whatever came my way.  The first two hours were, indeed, spent listening the the school director explain all the minute details of the school, the program and what we could expect in the coming year.  After a short lunch, we dove straight into massage.

I have never been one of those people who has always loved to massage her friends and family.  While I love to touch people, giving massages has really never been something I did.  Honestly, I balked at the idea of massage therapy for a long time because I had always thought of it in the wrong way.  It wasn't until I began to understand that it was a mode of healing that I really became interested in it. 

So when we were suddenly expected to massage each other in class, I was hit by a big wave of fear and hesitation.  I had never really massaged anyone before and now I was expected to give a massage to some girl I'd just met.  It wasn't that I minded touching her, it was that I had no idea what I was doing!  But we were under some time pressure and I had no choice but to jump right in and do the best I could.  I felt awkward and unsure but I did it.  The nice thing about massage is that really, any massage is a good one so I don't think what I did was terrible -- but I'm sure it could have been better.

My homework for this class is to give massages to 3 different people every week.  I have very quickly acquired a LONG list of friends and aquaintances who have volunteered to be one of my homework 'victims' and although I appreciate their willingness to help me out, I decided to start close to home and to give my first massages to my husband and 2 close friends.  But you know what?  Even that has me a little freaked out.  I have put off and procrastinated and I'm quickly running out of time to get my massages done in time.  I know these people will be very kind and understanding and non-judgmental and will be happy to receive any sort of massage, no matter how amateur, but I am still very, very nervous.

I suppose, just like in class, it's probably best not to think about it too much. I should just jump right in and do what I can.  I just hope that this gets easier, that with every massage I give I build a little bit more courage to make the next one easier.   

It's funny that before school started, I was mostly nervous about the academics.  Now I have found that there's more to be nervous about.  I guess I have a lot to learn this year, both about massage and about myself.

Congratulations to Me

It's official: I am a student!  Again.!  There are still a few loose ends to tie up (like paying tuition and signing up for electives) but today I completed the enrollment process and am now ready to start classes to become a massage therapist and holistic/energy healer. 

I am, for the most part, very excited.  Part of me is still a little freaked out by the prospect of having to use my brain after 12 years of dormancy (is that even a word?!) and the fact that I will have to learn science-type stuff (physiology, anatomy) but mostly, as I said, I am thrilled.

And I am very, very proud of myself.  This is proof that although the last year has been very difficult, I have grown and I am ready to set out and, well, grow some more.  I wouldn't have had the confidence to do this a few years ago, even if I had known what I wanted to do.  It's been a rocky road, but it seems to have led me in the right direction.

I also know that this is just a step, but it's a pretty big one.  There will be other steps - taken one at a time - and the road may continue to be rocky as I learn who I am, who I want to be and how I fit into the world around me, but for now I am enjoying this moment and all the happiness it has brought with it. 

So, raise a glass, my friends: it's time to celebrate!

Believe & Achieve

Tonight I'm stealing again.  If I knew the author, I would gladly give credit but as far as I know, it's anonymous.  I found this poem in my dance studio and thought I should share it:

If you want a thing bad enough
to go out and fight for it,
work day and night for it,
give up your time and peace and sleep for it;
If only desire of it makes you never tire of it
and life seems all empty and useless without it
and all that you scheme and dream is about it;
If gladly you'll sweat for it,
fret for it, plan for it,
lose all you terror of the opposition for it;
If you'll simply go after that thing that you want
with all you capacity,
strength and sagacity,
faith, hope and confidence and stern pertinacity;
If neither cold poverty, famished and gaunt,
nor sickness nor pain
of body or brain
can turn you away from the thing that you want;
If dogged and grim you besiege and beset it
You'll get it!

Quick Change Artist

It often amazes me how quickly things can change, how quickly my emotional state can change.  I'm not sure why this amazes me since I have been up & down and turned around so many times in the past few months that I should know that nothing ever stays the same for long.  Nonetheless, I am still amazed that only 2 days after my last abysmal post, I am pleased to report that I am chipper and cheery and just bursting with excitement.

Truth be known, there is also a little bit of fear mixed in with my excitement -- but as long as it's just a little bit, I can handle it.

I have not felt this positive and full of hope in a very, very long time and I intend to ride this wave for as long as I can.  The next couple of weeks promise to be very positive ones for me and I am so ready to end this summer on a high note.  It's been a rough couple of months and I although I never look forward to the end of summer, it seems the change of seasons will bring with it some changes for me that I have needed for a long time.

Finding Strength

I am an emotional wreck.  I experience just about every emotion in its fullest sense - every day.  I am exhausted and I am losing strength.  I have not felt this fragile in years, if ever.  Sometimes I wonder how I'm going to get through the day but somehow I always do.  Not always in the best shape, but I get through it.

Tonight I read something beautiful and inspiring.  I sat in the light of the moon, with the wind blowing over me and I meditated.  It was immensely restorative.

It also made me acutely aware that I need some time to myself to cleanse and recharge, and I need it to be soon.  If all goes well, it will be.  I'm pretty sure that if I have some time to focus on myself for a few days, I'll return a less fragile and more emotionally stable version of myself.  And then I can really focus on making my future a happy one.

First Steps

I've been thinking a lot about my future recently, which is something I haven't done in a long time.  It has become apparent that I am actually in charge of my own future and that it's up to me to make it what I want it to be.  I'm beginning to get a pretty good idea of what I want and now I need to work towards making it happen.

While I have many plans, today I chose to tackle the career path, since that really seems of foremost importance.  I also think that this will probably take a while, so best to get started on it as soon as I can.

Last Fall, I went to a very informative and interesting fair called "Holisticpalooza" and had a wonderful day learning all sorts of fabulous things like yoga, feng shui, meditative chanting, etc.  At the time, although I found the whole thing vastly enjoyable, I was not at a point where I could really appreciate the value of what I had stumbled upon.  Now I understand. 

The past few months have brought me to the conclusion that I need to embark upon a career in holistic healing and by following my instincts and listening to those who know me best, today I ended up back at the the website for the school that offered the Holisticpalooza.  It seems they offer classes in just about everything I want to do.  So I contacted them and have an appointment this week to go have a tour and talk to their admissions director.  I am simultaneously excited and frightened by this but I believe excitement will overpower the fear.  As it says on the school's website: “You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.” - Martin Luther King

And, after all, this is just the first step.  It may be a long journey, but I'll never get there if I don't start on the path.  I may also need some patience, as I won't get there overnight.  But I will get to where I want to be.

A Little Help From My Friends

I have spent a good portion of the last 4 days painting.  Not creative, artsy painting; just regular old house painting.  The unusual thing about this is that it wasn't at my house.  Rather, I was helping friends paint their daughter's room.  They are expecting an exchange student tomorrow and were under some time pressure to get the room painted before her arrival, which is why I volunteered to help.

I am a pretty good painter.  I have painted many rooms in many homes so when the topic arose, it seemed natural for me to offer my assistance, which was gladly accepted.  When I offered to help, I did it out of the old-fashioned goodness of my heart.  I didn't expect anything in return, other than the joy of helping out my friends by lessening both the work and the stress.  Which is why I was so surprised to find that I actually got so much more out of the last few days than I ever thought I might.

It turns out that painting is very therapeutic.  As we all know, there's a lot going on in my life and the last month and a half have been particularly topsy-turvy and emotionally challenging for me.  Painting allowed me some much needed alone time.  Obviously I was not entirely alone, as my friend was also in the room.  But we were in there without children, who also knew enough to only interrupt us if absolutely necessary.  Sometimes my friend and I talked: about relationships and things that really "mattered" and sometimes about other things that didn't matter quite so much.  Sometimes we didn't talk at all and I was able to be alone and muse over the torrent of thought constantly running through my head.  But sometimes - and this was best of all - I thought about nothing.

There were times when it was just me and the brush and my little cup of paint and that was all.  I was focused on the painting and nothing else.  There were no thoughts, no distractions, nothing.  Nothing.  And I loved every second of it.

Magic in the Air

There was a certain amount of magic in the air yesterday. Perhaps it blew in on the wind (Lord knows there was enough of it).  I can't explain it but that's the only reasonable explanation for the not one but two, dare I say, earth-shattering events which transpired over the course of the day. 

Our good friends have a family tradition in which they spend the day at the beach in honour of their eldest son's birthday.  This year, we were invited to join them.  The beach is on a lake at a state park not too far from where we live.  We had never been so we were all eager to go.  There is also a lake about a mile from our house, which is usually where we hang out in the summer.  It's a smaller lake with a very small "beach".  The beach at the state park was HUGE in comparison and the kids decided to take advantage of all the sand in which to take turns burying each other.  My son was the first to be buried -- right up to his neck.  The children thought this was fabulous & shouts of "I'm next!" ensued.  My daughter was buried next, followed by one of our friends' sons.  After each child was buried, with only their head stuck on top of a mound of sand, I was instructed to take a picture of the child and those children who did the work. 

Now, saying that my son has issues with having his picture taken would be an understatement.  He has been struggling with Situational Mutism (a childhood anxiety disorder) for the last 5 or 6 years and while he has made incredible strides, one of its last vestiges is an abhorrance to having his picture taken.  If I am not mistaken, it was actually his idea for me to take his picture while he was buried in sand.  If it was not his idea, he certainly made no complaints about it.  And really, as he was buried, there was nothing much he could do to stop my taking as many pictures of him as I wanted.   However, what really surprised me was a while later when I called all the children to gather together around his friend, who was currently buried, for a photo op, my son actually did what I asked.  He knelt down behind his friend together with the other children and was included in the picture.  The picture is one of those quintessential childhood photos that brings joy to the faces of those who look at it. This one will always bring a little bit more joy to my face, as I know how rare an opportunity it really was.

The second phenomenal act of the day was committed by yours truly.  I had spent the afternoon watching the children splash and swim in the lake.  The day was warm and the water was inviting.  I had the last shift on "lifeguard" duty and stood at the edge of the lake in a foot of water, envying the children their fun and longing to join them.  There was only one catch: this was a lake, which meant there was a very high probability that there would be fish in the water.  And I am terrified of fish (Yes, I agree it's an odd phobia, but there you have it).  So I stood at the water's edge having a very repetetive conversation with myself over the pros and cons of actually going into the water.  Add to that the fact that my son had already gone up against one of his big nemeses that day and I was beginning to think that I just might be able to do it.  Then I was told that it was time to call in the children as we were packing up to leave.  There it was: now or never.  So, I mustered up all my courage, took my daughter's hand and waded out into the lake (cursing under my breath all the way).  I finally made it out to where the other children were in waist-high water and decided that if I had gotten that far, I should go all the way -- under, that is.  So the children counted me in: 1, 2, 3! ... and I was still standing.  They had to count me in four or five times before I was finally able to take the plunge.  On the one hand, the water felt great and really refreshing, but it wasn't enough to keep me out there so I bee-lined for the shore.  It turned out I wasn't in the water for long and you couldn't even call what I'd done "swimming" but for me, it was an incredible feat.  I got high-fives and hugs and everyone was thrilled that I had made it into the water, most especially me.  (Of course, I then had to hang out in a wet bathing suit for the better part of an hour and by the time I got home, I had some serious willies about being covered in fish water for that long, but it still wasn't quite enough to bring me down.)

I can't speak for my son about what caused his lapse in camera-induced anxiety, and while I should be able to speak for myself about the lapse in my fish-induced anxiety, I simply can't.  I can guess that my son was just having such a good time with his friends that he forgot to be afraid.  Mine was a much more conscious decision to ignore the fear.  Yesterday it worked.  Next time it might not.  But at least now I know that if everything lines up in just the right way, we can get past those things that hold us back and every time we are able to do that, it makes us just a little bit stronger. 

The Rules

The Rules are changing.  Every relationship -regardless of its kind - has a set of rules.  These rules are slowly formed as the relationship builds and grows until eventually there they are and there they stay with everyone unaware of them and yet following them.  This works until something changes.

Right now, that something is me.  I am changing and growing and becoming a different Me than I have been for most of the course of my marriage.  As a result the Rules of my marriage and of my relationship with my husband are changing.  (I imagine the Rules with my children are changing, too, but as they themselves are constantly changing, that is to be expected in any case.)  I am not sure how my husband is going to accept these changes, as it means that he must also change and adapt to the new Rules and perhaps make his own new set of Rules. 

The road to self-discovery is not an easy one.  I am paving a new way for myself and my marriage.  It's difficult and it creates a lot of uncertainty but it will be worth it.  It is worth it. 

Making a List and Checking it Twice

I am not a maker of lists.  The only list I keep is for groceries, which is not so much for myself but so that the rest of my family can write down what they want me to purchase at the store.  However, I do have friends who keep lists and it seems to help them do any number of things from being more organized, more productive or simply just keeping track of their lives.  I think I should try making lists.

There are many I could make:

1. Things to Do Today
2. Things to Do In the Near Future
3. Things to Do Eventually
4. Things that Make me Happy (so I can refer to it and do more of those things)
5. Things that Make me Unhappy (so I can avoid those things)
6. Things I Would Like to Learn
7. Places I Would Like to Go

Oh, I could go on and on.  It's not really the making of lists that is the problem, but the part where I check them twice.  I tend to lose my lists, or at least forget about them once they are made, which really defeats the whole purpose of having a list since I never check anything off.

But maybe I'll give it another whirl and see if I can make it work this time.  Let's just say that a little more organization (of my thoughts if not my actions) and productivity would not be unwelcome around here.

Elusive Happiness

My dear friend K over at A New Day posed this question on Sunday: "Where are you at in your life right now?"  I've been giving this question a lot of thought and I've concluded that where I'm at is not where I want to be.

It seems that my life is cycling, circling and I never seem to be getting anywhere.  At least as far as my emotional stability is concerned.  Every time I think things are looking up, it seems that it all just comes crashing down around me again.  Have you ever watched a duckling try to scramble up on the muddy bank of a pond?  He tries and tries but can't quite do it so he swims around in the water for another while then tries again to hoist himself up on the bank.  I really want to be up on the bank but I keep slipping back down into the water.

I know I have made some progress.  I have not revisited the deep, dark pit of despair in which I found myself in the winter.  And I have have made certain, very promising strides in pursuing a new career path.  Both of those are very significant and positive advances but in the grand scheme of things, I wonder if it really makes a difference.  If anything is going to make a difference. 

K also said, "sometimes we are where we need to be".  If this is where I need to be, this constant cycle of almost being on the road to contentment but then finding myself lost again, then so be it.  I'm sure I'm here for a reason, which could be nothing more than learning what unhappiness is so that I can recognize happiness again when it does come.  I really hope it does because I would really like to be happy again.  And stay that way.

You Can't Buy Happiness

I'm cheating a bit tonight.  I stole this little quote from a little story my cousin shared on Facebook.  The story was typically cheesy but these few sentences from the end struck a chord with me.  I often struggle to find the right words to say it but whoever wrote this seems to have gotten the nuance right:

"The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves. So find time to be your spouse's friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy."

There's really not much more I feel like adding to this so do with it what you will.

Communication 101

One of the things that I've been working on lately are my communication skills.  I'm trying to be more vocal, more assertive and to let my opinions, thoughts and feelings out.  My therapist loves to say that he'd rather see people make a mess and clean it up that to never make a mess at all.  A friend of mine added that sweeping it all under the rug only works until it doesn't.  For my whole life I have been very good at sweeping things under the rug and not making messes.  Recently, I realized it wasn't working very well for me anymore. 

As most of us know, realizing and admitting our faults and foibles is at least half the battle.  I've done that.  I know that I'm very bad at saying what's on my mind and I've been making a concerted effort to change that.  Oddly, in doing so I've also noticed that I even hold back from saying good things.  Mostly I'm all about conflict avoidance, but I've yet to figure out why I hold back when it comes to sharing positive words.

At any rate, I've been working on it.  The trouble is that still, even when I think I'm being more assertive and forthright, it sometimes doesn't seem like my message is being received.  This leads me to doubt myself and wonder if I'm doing a good enough job.  Is it me?  Is it my fault?  Or is it simply that my words are falling on deaf ears?  I wish I knew.

In the meantime, I'll keep working at it and hope that some day this will all be more natural for me and the new super communicative Me will have fuller, brighter, more meaningful relationships.  Or at least relationships in which I know I'm being heard.

Welcome Back, Indeed!

And what a welcome it was!  Not only was I pleasantly surprised to find that people actually missed reading my blog, but today I received the "One Lovely Blog Award" from my friend C, who is a fellow blogger.  While I am not going to play along with the rules of the award and perpetuate the viral nature of it, I will admit that I am thrilled to have received it.  Obviously, it's not the award that I am so thrilled about.  It's the fact that a) I was thought of in this context, b) I had two marvellous compliments bestowed upon me and c) this was all publicly broadcast on her blog.

As I'm sure I've mentioned in previous posts, my self esteem is not particularly high at this point in my life.  Even when I was much more confident and sure of myself, I still loved a good compliment, but now they are even more meaningful to me and I treasure them so much more.  Perhaps because I need the validation from outside sources that I do have some good qualities; that there is more to me than most people realize; that despite not being "accomplished" in so many other ways, there are at least a few people out there who may think that I do have some redeeming qualities about me.

So, even though I'm not playing along, I am touched and honoured to have received the Award.  It has brightened my day and given my poor soul a wee push in the right direction.  Thank you.

The Lost has Returned

You may have noticed that I have been away.  I apologize.  My last post was just over a month ago, and as I review the last few weeks, I hope you will understand my absence from Blogland.

Just after my last post, school ended for the summer.  Anyone with children will understand that the last week of school is absolute chaos as they try to fill the last few days with anything that will allow the children to be occupied without the teachers having to teach.  Therefore, there are carnivals, field days and class parties to participate in.  There are also luncheons and coffees for the parent volunteers.  It's a busy time to say the least.

Then the glorious First Day of Summer Vacation arrives and we settle in for late nights, campfires, sleepovers, sleeping in, long days at the beach, endless hours on the trampoline and nothing in the world to do but play with our friends.  We love summer.

Our plan for the first part of the summer was that the children would attend day camp for a week and then we would have 2 weeks of family vacation.  We had considered doing a road trip.  However, extenuating circumstances came into play and my husband decided that he should go to Germany to renew his visa (very long story).  My son also wanted to visit Italy while we are in Europe.  So, 5 days before we were to leave, flights were booked and we tried to hastily prepare for 2 weeks or more in Europe.  What ensued was, from my perspective, chaos and stress.  What followed in Italy was, from my perspective, chaos and stress.  As such, I had very little time and perhaps even less energy to try to sit down and attempt to write anything that might have been considered cohesive or coherent.

However, now that I have returned home again and have considerably less stress and chaos in my life, I hope to be able to return wholeheartedly to Blogland, posting with regularity and, with any luck, some insight.

Person to Person

My husband said something curious to me the other day when we were talking about how I have been changing over the past couple of months.

Obviously, all the efforts I have been making to become a better Me are doing something.  I think they are doing positive things.  I feel more like the old Me, the Me I was in my early 20's: confident, lively, sexy, fun; someone with things to do and places to go.  I am getting better at recognizing my weaknesses and flaws, which is enabling me to tackle them and to improve upon myself in what I hope is a positive manner.

The conversation I had with my husband came about after having discussed something that had upset me.  Until recently, I never would have said anything, being the chronic conflict avoider that I am.  But the new me brought it up, thus acknowledging my hurt feelings and pointing out to him that said feelings had been hurt.  It was a calm, poignant discussion and went very well.  My husband then said that he appreciated that I had brought it up and that he finds all these changes in me very positive ones.

And that, as a result, I am now more of a person.

Seriously?  Was it that bad?  Was I so chronically dependent and unmotivated that I had actually ceased to be a person in my own right?  Really?

If that's the case, then it seems this journey is going to be a whole lot longer and more intricate than I thought.  It's no longer just about becoming a better Me, but about becoming a whole Me. But no worries, I'm pretty sure I can do it.

Change is in the Air

This morning when I awoke I still had this sentence floating around in my head.  Now, hours later, I think I know why: it's because I am excited about the change.  I desperately need it and I didn't know quite how much until now.

I have always been a person who needs change and I have never been content to do the same thing for very long.  In the 6-year span of highschool and university, I held at least 6 different part-time jobs.  Most of them were in retail, which I enjoyed because there were always different people coming in the store and there was always a bit of unpredictability to the day.  When I started teaching ESL, there was still that same sense of  surprise - you could plan a lesson, but you never really knew what problems or questions would arise.  I also had a different group of students every 6 weeks so while the job itself didn't change, the lessons and the students did.

When I stopped working to become a full-time Mom, my life was such that we moved, on average, every 3 years.  The children grew and their needs changed and whenever things started feeling too stagnant, it would be time to move to a new house, new city, or new country.

What I've realized is that while moving changed my surroundings on a semi-regular basis, I was becoming stagnant.  Everything around me was changing but I wasn't.

Over the past few months, there has been a lot of thinking and introspection going on, which has led me to begin this exploration of a new self and a new life.  This time the changes that are coming are all about me.  They are internal changes, not external, and they are enormous in their worth. 

Confirmations and Affirmations

I love it when things fall into place.  It doesn't happen very often, so when it does, it feels so very good.

Tonight I went to my class.  It was phenomenal for many reasons: I learned new things, I took one more step towards healing myself and it was confirmed to me that I am on the right path.  What more could I ask for?  I am energized and I am so happy, I am shining.

Although the physical cleansing that took place tonight can not be denied its benefits, I think the biggest bringer of my bliss was the confirmation that I am indeed making the right choices.  This has actually been confirmed to me three times this week alone, by three different, unrelated people.  While it is wonderful to have so much encouragement and support from my friends, tonight's encouragement from my teacher meant so much more. 

Change is in the air.  And it's about time.

Should I Stay or Should I Go?

I've been having some unusual thoughts lately.  While these thoughts have been unusual for me, I acquiesce that they are not that extraordinary for the average person: 

I have been thinking of NOT moving.

As I have previously alluded to - or perhaps even talked about outright - I move a lot.  In fact, since I left my parents' home (the first time) nearly 16 years ago, I have moved 13 times.  I have lived in 5 countries on 3 continents.  I have not lived in the same town for more than 3 1/2 years.  Moving, for me and my family, is constant.  It's what we do.

For the most part, I like it.  I love the adventure of discovering a new place and I love being able to meet new people.  However, there have been some drawbacks to this lifestyle.  First and foremost, there is the beurocracy: the visas and permits that are required to live in a foreign country, which have meant that, for as long as we've been doing this, I have been entirely dependent upon my husband to provide for our family.  This is because a) his company provides us with the necessary paperwork and b) I am generally not allowed to work.  Also, I have found it very difficult to allow myself to start anything, knowing that I will not be able to finish it before we find ourselves packing again.

But lately, as a result of my yearning for more independence and my undertaking new projects for myself (classes, etc) I have found myself toying with the incredible thought of actually NOT moving.  I think I might like to stay in one spot for at least a few more years.  I'd like to be able to get back on my feet and see where this path is leading me.  It's a bit of a scary thought, this wish to be immobile; this wish for something like stability.  But I kind of like the idea of giving myself some time to see where I'm going. 

Maybe the trick is that in order to let myself go, I needn't really go anywhere at all.  

Meditations on Love

I went to class tonight and was told we would be meditating. Excellent! We would be meditating on love.  Excellent again!  We settled in and listened to the teacher for a while before we moved on to the meditation part of the class.  I was expecting to be overwhelmed with goodness and warm waves of love -- but life has a funny way of giving you what you least expect.

We did 3 different meditations and each was progressively more difficult for me than the previous one.  Each was also rather more disturbing than the last so instead of leaving tonight's class imbued with warm fuzzies and my usual state of calm contentedness, I was a complete and utter mess.

I know this experience will prove to be beneficial for me.  We can not heal until we know where our wounds are.  However, it seems I have more than I reckoned and they run deep.

Luckily, I have people who can guide me and help me.  With them by my side, I hope that one day I will be able to meditate on love with a happy heart.

Decisions

Decision making has always been difficult for me.  If the decision is not blatantly obvious I find it extremely challenging to make up my mind.  I make lists of pros and cons, weigh all my options and deliberate but still find it so very hard to actually come to a decision -- and harder still to then act upon said decision.

I wonder if this is related to me avoiding conflict and risk.  Or maybe it has to do with an inability to commit. 

Most of the time I am able to get by.  Oftentimes I leave the decision making up to others, but I'm beginning to think that this is perhaps not the best way to do things.  I have become very good at letting life happen to me.  While this has turned out fairly well, I think perhaps I would like to start taking a more active role in the process, which would necessitate learning how to make decisions and then, of course, following through on them.

Practice makes progress, they say, and as I am currently debating a few topics with myself, I will no doubt be able to excercise my decision-making ability fairly frequently in the near future.  The trouble is that when I actually start making decisions for myself, there will be no one but myself to blame for how things turn out...

(In)Dependence

Yesterday I came upon the realization that I am utterly and completely dependent upon my husband -- for everything.  Not in the personal sense, as I think I have quite an independent nature, but in the practical sense.

My husband and I are from different countries and we live in a third country.  This has been the case since the inception of our relationship.  The third country (ie. where we live) changes frequently, but the situation itself doesn't change.  This lifestyle, by definition, necessitates all manner of beurocracy: passports, visas, work permits, etc and as a result I am inextricably bound to my husband.  His job provides the necessary paperwork for us to be able to live here, which means that without him, my papers are invalid.  Also, the type of paperwork I receive only allows me to live, but not to work, in aforementioned third country.

Until recently, this has not been much of an issue.  I am a stay-at-home Mom by choice so the inability to work has not concerned me overly much.  However, as we live in the US, and as I am not the privileged holder of a Social Security Number, I am constantly disadvantaged.  I was reminded of this once again yesterday, when I tried to procure a new cell phone for myself, that a SSN is required for pretty much everything in this country.  This means that I, myself, am unable do pretty much everything - on my own - in this country.

As a result, I think I will finally need to look into getting myself some real papers of my own.  Not just for the cell phone or a bank account or setting up auto-pay for the electricity bill or getting an Old Navy credit card or any of the multitude of things I can't presently do.  Not just for the possibility of being able to legally accept some kind of work were it offered to me.  But for myself and my independence.

Enough is Enough

Yesterday I reached the breaking point: that magical moment where my proverbial cup ran over and the straw broke the camel's back.  It was a long time coming, as is often the case, so it is not overly surprising that it did come.  However, I do find it curious that the event that marked the end of Enough was not really all that cataclysmic.

Which makes me ponder when it is that we decide that Enough really is Enough.  Maybe I had already decided and was just waiting for one more thing - anything - to happen to be able to announce to the world, that I had, indeed, had Enough.

Because once that was decided, texts were sent, phone calls were made, emails were mailed and actions were taken that will quickly and seriously alter the lives of those involved.  My Enough has quickly become bigger than me and I am left with a mixed bag of feelings, running the gamut from relief to disappointment. 

So while this chapter has ended, the question that I still have is what exactly makes me decide when Enough is Enough?  There are other parts of my life in which tensions are palpable, and have been for a long time.  What will make me decide to call "Enough!" in those situations?  Or what if someone else calls it first? 

Because calling it is just the beginning...

Daring to Dream

By George, I've done it! I'm pretty sure I've come up with a dream, a plan, a goal for myself.  Granted, I've had vague notions of future plans before but none of them have felt like this.

Over the past year or so, I have come up with many plans.  No, actually, other people (husband, friends) have suggested many ideas to me about what I could do with myself, career-wise.  They have all been good ideas.  I would likely be able to make any or all of them succeed given the particular set of skills with which I am equipped.  While that is all well and good, none of those plans ever felt perfectly me. 

Some might say I'm being a mite too fussy but, honestly, if I am starting from scratch in designing a future for myself, then, dammit, I want it to fit!  Perfectly!  Whatever career I end up having that will take me away from my children and my family, has to be something that I am going to love completely.  To be cliche about it, it has to be a "calling".  I want my work to feel like play.  And why shouldn't I?

The amazing thing is that I think I've found it.  I believe I have found something that fits, that suits me.  It is not something I can do yet.  I will need to work towards it, but I know that I can do it.  I have even signed up for the first set of classes! (Yay me!)  There are a number of classes I will need to take, there are many things I will have to learn and there are skills I will have to master but that's ok.  I am so excited by the possibilities!

And for once, I'm not bringing myself down by thinking about the practicalities.  I'll deal with those when the time comes.  In the meantime, I'm going to focus on getting this ball rolling -- and I'm going to enjoy the ride. 

Absence

You may have noticed that I have been absent from blogland for a while.  If you have noticed and have missed me, then I thank you for noticing.  I knew it had been a few days since I had written but didn't realize it had been quite so long.  There are many excuses to be proffered, mostly about me being busy, but when it comes right down to it, it really doesn't matter why I was absent, only that I was.

The fact that I was absent is also a stark reminder for me that I have been falling into old habits, specifically being that of not talking when I am upset.  I started this blog to make me exercise my voice in the hopes that it would be there when I needed it.  Obviously, there is still work that needs to be done.

The past few days have been rather emotional ones for me on many levels.  There have been ups, downs, highs and lows and while I think I handled most of them fairly well, I was not able to organize my thoughts well enough to put any of it in my blog.  Although I was using my real voice, my virtual voice was absent and suffered accordingly.

Bearing all that in mind, I will pledge to myself to do better.  To write even when I am not at my best -- perhaps because I am not at my best.  To exercise my voice in all its capacities, that it might serve me well when I most need it. To stay faithful to myself and, simply, to be present.

Rollercoasters

Is everyone else's life such an emotional rollercoaster?  Or is it just mine?  I remember a time when everything was good, all the time.  Sadly, I did not know enough then to treasure the simplicity but I certainly do now.

The last few months have, as I'm sure you've noted, been exceptionally vibrant, emotionally speaking.  I have covered the full spectrum of sentiments and it seems that I'm now starting to cycle through them yet again.  I am confused and exhausted and I want it to stop.  I don't want to have to ride through all the ups and downs and corkscrews and loop-de-loops anymore.  I don't want to have to figure out how to express the gazillions of emotions that we are able to experience.  I would like to stop this train and get off.

But I know that if I stick with it, I will become a better, more balanced and more complete person.  There will be untold benefits.  When I slow down enough to think about it, I realize that I am learning a lot about myself which should prove to be useful as I try to navigate my way through the rest of my life.  Like anything else you try to learn, it's hard work and it takes time and energy.  So I will stick with it.

It really is like being on a rollercoaster: after you've slowly crept your way to the top of the first hill, you get a little scared.  Then you ride through all sorts of craziness, simultaneously loving it and hating it.  Finally, things slow down and level out and you're left with a rush of adrenaline, a smile on your face and the desire to conquer the world (or at least the next ride).  So I will be patient and wait for all the craziness to level out, because I'm really looking forward to being able to smile at the end of it.

Organizing my Thoughts

So it seems I'm not very good at hiding my emotions.  I was a bit of a mess today - ok, a big mess - which I stoically tried to hide from the masses.  Fortunately, there are a few people who exclude themselves from the masses so that when they asked the usually non-committal, "how are you?" today and I replied with "ok" or "all right", they actually knew that I was neither ok nor all right.  In one case, I actually came right out & replied that I was "not very good".  There's really not many people you can say that to.  (I used to do it when I was having a bad day at work as a cashier and would completely freak out the customers.)  But today it was a friend so I felt perfectly fine giving her an honest answer. 

The question to follow was, naturally, "why?".  I've spent all day today trying to figure that out.  As I said last night, I had a gazillion thoughts running through my head and I was unable to catch hold of any of them.  Today, at least, I was able to slow them down and then grab hold and sort them into neat little packages so that I could deal with all the different issues one at a time.  Actually, there aren't really that many issues.  More like many different facets of the same issue.  But I think I did quite well at sorting and simplifying today and I think I've got a pretty good handle on what is bothering me. 

Tomorrow I have an appointment with my therapist.  That should prove to be interesting.  I plan on making him earn his fee, taking full advantage of my 45 minutes with him. 

Of course, my unofficial therapists (aka friends) were also very useful today.  Simply by asking what was wrong and actually wanting an honest answer was good for me.  I was able to sort through my thoughts anew every time I repeated myself to each of my friends.  And they, in turn, were able to ask varying questions and help me further negotiate the intricate web of ideas I had created.

At this point, I'm not sure what I'm going to do with any of these thoughts, ideas, conclusions and realizations but it's nice to know that I have people who will at least listen to me.  And some day, when I'm ready to act upon them, I hope these same people will be around to listen and inquire and help to prod me in the right direction.  Just like they did today.

Whirlwind

Tonight I have far too many things whirling around in my brain and I am finding it extraordinarily difficult to settle on a single theme to write about.  I have been covering many topics today in my conversations with myself: balance, dreams, desires and the future to name but a few.  All of these notions are jumbled together, inextricably, in a tornado of thought.

Perhaps tomorrow I will be able to make sense of them all, or at least be able to separate some of them into coherent ideas.  When I do, I will write them down and maybe, if they are at all valid and if I am brave enough, I will share some of them with you.

The Importance of Being Earnestly Drunk

I like to drink.  Particularly, I like to drink to excess.  I enjoy being drunk.  I am a happy drunk and for me, nothing is better than sharing a few (too many) drinks with good friends and reveling in the laughter and careless conversation that ensues.

I once read that people from northern climes tend to binge drink more than their more southerly located counterparts.  Being from Canada, I suppose I qualify for northern locale group and it seems to fit.  I have never been one to have just a single drink and be content.  I don't drink wine with dinner (because I don't like the way it makes my food taste) and I will only rarely sit and have a drink with a friend if it's only going to be one drink.  I would rather forego the alcohol altogether and have a diet Coke instead.  If I'm going to drink, then it's got to have purpose, which is, namely, becoming inebriated.

I am also very much a social drinker so I prefer to be drunk with other like-minded indiviuals.  Thus, good drinking buddies are very important for me to have around.  It is, in fact, not so much the drinking that I savour as much as the merriment that comes with it.  I have found, over the years, that nothing serves me better than a good drunk with friends.  Laughter increases seratonin levels and, subsequently, improves my mood not only for that night but for days to follow.  It always amazes me how a single night of debauchery can simultaneously reduce my stress levels and put me in a better mood for an indefinite but decidedly longer period of time afterwards.

Unfortunately, I don't have very many drinking buddies and most of the ones I do have do not live close to me.  As a result, I don't get to drink earnestly very often.  Perhaps this is a good thing, though, - other than for the obvious inherant health risks - as the relative rarity of the occasions makes me so much more appreciative of them when they do occur.

No Comment?

Well, I did it.  Tonight I commented on a blog written by someone I don't know.  I have taken the first baby step into the blog world and toward inviting others to read my blog.  Yikes!

Because, of course, you realize that a blog comment is not just a blog comment.  Every action has a reaction, which goes something like this:

• I comment on said blog
• Blog Author reads my comment and wonders who the heck I am
• Blog Author goes to my profile to see who I am and sees that I have a blog
• Being a blogger himself, Blog Author is interested so comes here to see what my blog is all about

Now this is the part where he reads all about me and decides if either a) my writing or b) my journey or c) my person is interesting enough for him to continue reading and, possibly, to read on a regular basis.  This is interesting, yet somehow unusually scary. 

Until now, this blog has been for me and has been read only by people who actually know me.  There is safety in that.  But by commenting on the other blog, I have essentially invited Blog Author to come over here and check me out -- and decide if I am worthy.  Or rather, if my blog is worthy, which is really almost the same thing since I am essentially pouring all my innermost thoughts and feelings into this crazy thing called a blog.

But then, this blog - and, indeed, this particular part of my life - is all about figuring out who I really am.  So if I am all about discovering myself, why shouldn't others be allowed to discover me, too?

Me, Myself and I

Tonight I went to see a movie -- alone.  I have been going to movies alone for the past 16 years or so.  I would much rather go with other people but were I to wait for them, I might never go.  You see, I have this terrible habit of not ever planning to go to a movie.  It's almost always a last-minute idea and it's usually a mid-week late show.  It's no wonder I can't ever find anyone to go with!  So I go alone.

As I said, I started going to movies by myself about 16 years ago because, for many years, I lived abroad and it was rather difficult to find someone who wanted to see an English movie with me.  Eventually I had to choose between never seeing a movie in a theatre or never seeing one with anyone.  I'm not one to sit at home so going alone to the movies was simply the lesser evil.  I've never understood the social stigma attached to going to the movies by yourself so it was never awkward or humiliating for me.

In face, there was also a time when I used to go to dance clubs alone.  It's even harder to find people who like the same music as me and who like to dance so, again, I would just go it alone.  I've explained my love of dance and my need to dance before, so suffice to say that dancing alone at a club was a far lesser evil than not dancing at all.  Unfortunately, I'm not sure I could pull off hitting a club solo now, but one of these days I just might try.

So, for all the time that I've spent writing about my wonderful friends, there are times when they have other plans, leaving me to my own devices.  What I've been reminded of is that I'm not going to let their absence stop me from doing what I want to do.  Yes, the fun-o-meter never quite maxes out when I am by myself, but it sure revs a lot higher that it would were I to sit at home on the couch all evening.  And when I think about it, if I am a strong enough person to throw caution to the wind and go out alone, then I should be able to rely on that same strength for so many more things in life.  I'll have to try to remember that.

Sharing Time

Today a friend of mine posted on Facebook that she was looking for other bloggers.  Who, amongst her friends, kept a blog and who would be willing to blogswap?  I'll read yours if you read mine.  Initially I thought it was a great idea and I immediately responded, telling her I had a blog.  And then I stopped.  It hit me that if I put my blog address there on her Wall that other people might actually stop by and read my blog -- and that frightened me.  Why?

I am completely loving my blog.  I love writing it and I love that my friends read it and comment on it and share their thoughts about my thoughts.  But today I had to consider the possibility that people I don't know might read my blog.  Am I ready for that?  Although my blog is technically public, it never really occurred to me that just anyone might read it.  And now that I think about it, sharing my blog with random readers is really not that scary, given that they have no idea who I am.  I've got nothing to lose.

I have also not advertised my blog on my Facebook page.  I could.  I would have more readers, perhaps even more followers.  But do I really want all of my "Facebook Friends" and old schoolmates, colleagues and room moms reading about my innermost thoughts and private struggles?  Obviously not.  But why?

Why am I being so protective?  Why am I so unwilling to let the world in to my little piece of cyberspace?  I suppose because that would mean putting myself out there.  It would mean risking humiliation and showing vulnerability.  It would be careless.  And I'm not ready for that yet.  I wonder if I ever will be.

Where Have All the Photos Gone?

Lately I have been struck by a wave of nostalgia and have been poring over old photos, of which I have many.  Most are organized and in albums, arranged chronologically on my bookshelves.  Unfortunately, I've sort of dropped the ball the last couple of years (not just with photos but with so many other things) and so the photos from the last year or two are either sitting on the shelf waiting to be put into albums or, sadly, not yet printed.  But, luckily, these are not the photos I am interested in.  It is the older ones of friends, faces and places that have piqued my interest. 

Today, in particular, I was looking for a set of photos that were taken at a photo shoot about 12.5 years ago.  I was the model, my best friend was the photographer and we were putting together an album for my then boyfriend (now husband) for his 25th birthday.  My boyfriend and I were separated by an ocean at the time so a photo album of me was an appropriate gift.  My girlfriend and I had a fabulous time doing the photo shoot and shot about 8 rolls of film.  I picked a dozen or so of the best photos for the album, which my husband still has.  My friend, the photographer, is also an artist and painted one of the photos for my husband, which was his Christmas present this year.  It was seeing the painting that made me start looking for the photos to begin with.  But, alas, it seems the rest of the photos have disappeared.

This is not entirely surprising, given that I have moved 6 times on 3 continents since those pictures were taken.  And I have added a husband, two children and a wealth of their belongings to the mix.  The result is that there is a lot of stuff that I am responsible for keeping organized.  This last move was particularly unorganized, perhaps because of the sheer volume of things needing to be packed and unpacked, and I notice this whenever I attempt to unearth anything from the collection of boxes in our basement, like I did today.

It is quite possible that we will be moving again in another year or so.  I really, really need to sort through the stuff and nonsense in my basement before then so that we don't move it all again to our next destination - wherever that may be.  It is a daunting task, and I feel I have so many other daunting tasks to contend with.  But perhaps this is the one I can start with.  Make a summer project out of it.  Toil away at it little by little.  Maybe have that garage sale my daughter has been asking for years to have.  And maybe, just maybe, find those pictures.

 

Vision Boards

I went out with a girlfriend last night for "coffee" and the conversation came around to vision boards.  If you are unfamiliar with them, the idea is to make a collage of all of your dreams and goals that you would like to fulfill.   You are then to hang this collage in a prominent spot where you can look at it often and remind yourself constantly what you want to do with your life.  It's supposed to be inspiring.

I don't have a vision board.  It has been suggested to me on several occasions that I should make one.  Honestly, I don't really get the concept of them to begin with but even if I did and were to set about making one, I wouldn't have the foggiest idea what to put on one.  This goes back to how I'm supposed to marinate myself in my dreams".  I am beginning to think that I am really completely unable to look to the future and aspire to anything.  Up until now, I've basically been letting life happen to me and it's gone pretty well, I think, which makes it even more difficult to think about planning the future.

But surely there must be things I want to do, I hear you interject (I know because I get that a lot).  Why, yes, there are things I want to do but there are so MANY things I want to do, I don't know where to start.  This is where I find a vision board so limiting.  Can I put that many things on a vision board?  I kind of feel like I have to narrow things down to a top 10 list, which, obviously I have trouble doing.  My friend pointed out that when I met her last fall, I said the same thing, meaning 6 months or more has passed and I am still no closer to dreaming or even knowing what I want to dream about.

My husband has a vision board, which he made a while ago and stuck to the bathroom mirror.  It's a good spot for him because he looks at it every day.  However, it's also a bad spot because then I look at it every day.  And looking at his goals and aspirations every day I've realized is actually rather irritating for me.  "So take it down," my girlfriend said.  So I did - and moved it somewhere else where he can still look at it but I don't need to see it very often.  I can't really explain it except to say that it drains the energy out of me to look at his vision board.  It's not that his goals are bad.  They're just not mine.

So, what are my goals, my dreams, my visions?  I honestly don't know.  But I'm working on it and I'll let you know when I figure it out.

Changing Expectations

Our friend, Steve,  has written a book on marriage.  He's a clinical psychologist, has been married 14 years and is well-versed on the theme.  The book won't be released until next year sometime but last night we got a sneak peek at a presentation he gave.  The book is entitled, "The 6 Husbands Every Woman Should Have".

The basic message is that people need to change throughout the course of their marriages and their lives in order to stay happily married.  You have to adapt to the changes life throws at you and, even more key, you have to do that together.  The checklist you have outlining the perfect partner when you are young and single ultimately changes as your life together does, as you travel through various stages in life.  (There are 6, hence the title of the book).  At each stage, life demands certain things of you and, in relation, your partner demands certain things of you.  If you fail to change and measure up to these constantly changing needs, it spells disaster for your marriage.  Likewise if you change, but not in the same manner as your partner or if only one partner changes.

Needless to say, all this gave me lots to ponder about my own marriage, the conclusion ultimately being that of course, Steve is right and what he describes is exactly what has caused the disenchantment in my own marriage.  My husband feels that I have not grown and changed enough over the years, that I am still too much like the young version of me he married.  I'm not as mature as he feels I should be.  I am not meeting his new list of expectations for this stage of life.  On the other hand, I feel that he has changed greatly.  He is very different from the man I married but, sadly, his changes do not line up with my expectations either.  The result is that we have literally grown apart.

Steve also made two other comments that I found very pertinent.  One is that you can tell what age an addict started using because they stop growing & changing and remain that age (until they stop using).  The other is that when the children are small, you have to be sure you don't lose yourself while trying to manage the chaos.  So I'm thinking that, like an addict (the children being my drug) you can probably tell that I haven't changed much since the age of 27 because I got completely lost in the role of mother/chaos manager.  It took me 10 years to figure that out, but now that I have and now that I seem to be making some headway into finding out who I am again, I hope to be able to grow a bit and change a bit, and with any luck it will be in the right direction.

On the bright side my husband and I still like each other so there is hope for our struggling marriage.  We are trying, with the help of a therapist, to get ourselves and our marriage back on track and slowly, things seem to be improving.  Some days I feel more optimistic than others but I know that only time & effort will make a difference, so I will continue to offer both.

Girls and Boys

When I was a child, I was a tomboy.  I love to climb trees, build a "dam" across the creek behind our house, and play cowboys and indians or dungeons and dragons with the boys who lived on our street.  As kids, no one really made a fuss that I liked to play with the boys.  My oldest friend in the world, who I've known since I was two, is a boy who lived up the street.

When I was in highschool and university, I still liked to hang out with the guys.  At parties, I would usually be out on the back porch drinking beer with the guys rather than inside with the girls.  I preferred the testosterone-laden conversations and the raunchy jokes, the cigarettes and the beer to the wine spritzers and discussions of weddings and home decor that took over the estrogen effused indoors.  I am still good friends with two guys I met when we were in our teen years.

Over the years I have made many friends with girls and guys alike.  I have more girlfriends than guyfriends and while I treasure all my friendships, I truly appreciate the friendships I have with the men in my life.  They show me a different perspective on the world and on relationships.  They think differently and give me insight into the workings of the male species.  And they make way better drinking buddies.

Interestingly, I have a hormone imbalance which has gifted me with more male hormones than the average woman.  I have often wondered if this is perhaps the reason why I have more male friends than the average woman and why I tend to seek out male friends and keep them around.

In addition to that, my personal beliefs and values do not necessarily coincide with those of the masses.  I believe in equal opportunity, that men and women can be close friends without anything getting in the way.  I am a fairly open-minded individual who, I realize, has a different definition of appropriateness than the average (North American) woman.  I am rather naieve, tend to believe too much in innocence and goodness and I don't get jealous. Sometimes I forget that most people don't think like me or behave like me and the reminders are occasionally harsh.  For me, a friendship is formed with a particular person based on mutual interests, insights and commonalities, not on what sex they are.

Three's Company

Recently I've become friends with a married couple.  It began as a friendship between me and the wife.  We are neighbours, mothers, and wives -- we have plenty in common.  She's bright, caring and funny.  And, like me, she doesn't feel like she really fits in in the little corner of the world we call home.

I got to know the husband initially in a more "professional" manner.  We have an exchange student and the husband is our area rep: our liaison, mentor and advisor.  We've had a lot of trouble with our exchange student so I've had more than average need to talk to him.  I was then able to get to know him in a more social level because of my friendship with his wife and the friendship between our children.

Lately the husband and I have become friends in our own right.  We are very much alike in very many ways.  We are both writers.  We both have an interest in metaphysics and related arts.  We each have a dark side.  He understands me in a way that only very few people in my life have ever been able to.

One of the many things I have in common with them is that we are none of us in perfect marriages and the problems they have are similar to the ones that I have with my husband.  Unfortunately, because of their history and the baggage they still carry, certain comfort barriers have been breached and I have somehow managed to exacerbate their problems.  Not me personally, but the situation I've created.  On the one hand, having me as a catalyst has forced them to grapple with long-dormant issues, which, I hope, will start the ball rolling towards healing themselves and their marriage.  On the other hand, I feel like I've rocked the boat and I am terribly afraid that our friendships may not be able to swim.  And I really need them to.

I am not sure how to move forward but I know that we can not move backward.  I am in the unusual position of being confidante to them both.  I hope I can serve them both equally well and, in the end, help them as much as they have helped me.

We Are Searchers All

I realized today that there is something else that my best friends and I have in common: we are all introspective, still trying to figure out who we are and what our place is in the world.  None of us quite fit in, one way or another.  We are all intelligent, beautiful people but for some reason we are not ever completely at peace with ourselves or our lot in life.

We are thinkers, and perhaps this is our downfall.  Maybe we spend too much time considering ourselves, contemplating who we are, trying to make ourselves better people.  No, not better people, whole people.  We are always looking for that missing piece, that will somehow make us fit and make us complete.  None of us knows if we will ever find it, but we search.

The quest is our bond.  We understand each other and we help each other explore and investigate.  We support each other through our journeys of self-discovery and although each of us has a slightly different story, we know we are all travelling this road together.

I don't know if any of us will ever find what we are looking for, but perhaps with the strength and support of our friends we will at the very least find some level of contentedness.

Get Into the Groove

Thursday, April , 2010

Something else in my world is finally going right.  I'm not sure if this is due to the turn of the tide in the rest of my life or just out of sheer determiniation.  Whatever the case, tonight I found my dance groove again.

I am a dancer.  My life is not complete without dance and for the past 3 years or so, my style of choice has been highland dance.  I had my first highland lessons when I was about 3 or 4 years old.  I believe I only danced for a few months before my teacher passed away and the lessons stopped.  Although I lost my opportunity to continue highland dance lessons (and become a championship dancer), I never lost my love of the bagpipes.

Fast forward 30 years.  In a quest to get out of a rut and make a conscious effort to spend more time on myself, I decided I needed to take dance lessons.  I couldn't settle on anything until I spied a poster of a piper at a dance studio.  I started highland lessons immediately and fell in love with it all over again.  That was 3 years ago.  In the meantime, I have progressed nicely, winning numerous medals and trophies at competitions, and I am able to legitimately call myself a highland dancer.

Or rather I was doing that up until last August, which is when I completed my Novice level and advanced to Intermediate.  I think the freak-out factor involved with the level change combined with the chaotic circumstances of my life and that of my teacher, prevented me from dancing for the better part of the next 6 months.  I would go to my lesson sporadically but I began to doubt whether I would ever really dance - or compete - again.  And it made me sad.

But finally, after months of doubt and frustration, things are falling into place.  I've been going to lessons regularly and actually seeing improvement.  My stamina is building and I think I will be competing at my first Intermediate competition at the end of May.  It hit me last night after class that I really can do this.  In an hour-long class, I danced a 6-step Fling, a 2&2 Sword, a 4&2 Trews and a Flora.  Not perfectly, but I did it.  My lungs burned from the exertion but I did it.  My muscles ached but I did it. 

I am back and it feels great.

On the Right Path

It was confirmed to me this evening that suppression does indeed lead to loss of vitality and a lack of energy -- not just in me but in all people.  Not that I needed the confirmation: the past week has been proof enough for me to know that stifling any part of myself, especially for so long, is not good for me.  And honestly, at this point I don't much care if it's bad for other people or not, I'm just trying to figure myself out.

I seem to be on the right track then, with this blog.  It is allowing me to unleash my creativity to the world, or at least the 4 of you who read this.  It's a good start.  It not only allows me to write but also to "publish" what I'm writing.  The blog is a stepping stone on my path.  It starts here and, hopefully, will overflow into other forms of writing thereby watering the creative soul I have kept buried for so long.  And as it begins to grow and blossom, I can only hope that the rest of me will too.

Supression

I've come to realize that I've been stifling myself for years. There has been a long, slow progression of suppression and I realize that I am now just a meager representation of the person I once was. 

I suppose it is only natural that, as we age, time constraints and responsibilities push aside many of our interests and hobbies.  While that may be true, I also believe that I have been pushing away many of my interests, passions and emotions simply because I have felt that I had no one to share them with.  Granted, over the years I have also developed a few new hobbies and rediscovered a few long dormant skills but for the most part I have all but buried most of what made me who I am.  Or at least who I was since I'm still trying to figure out who I am.

I've been trying to figure out why these friends I've been raving about are so important to me and why they have been so instrumental in helping and healing me.  I think it's because when I am with this small, select group of people I can really be me, uninhibited.  They know all of me and all of my layers and we share things.  We share interests (primarily creative ones like writing and art) and we share ourselves with each other.  I am not afraid to be myself with these people because I know that they will understand my deeper layers.  I know this because theirs are very much like mine.

Now that I know this, I need to dig deeper a little more often and coax out the creativity.  Spending time with the people who understand me will hopefully help me do that, and with any luck they will be able to help me find more of the person I was -- because I miss her.

 

Laughter is the Best Medicine

It's a total cliche, I know, but it is so true for me, at least at this particular juncture in my life.  Laughter has literally cured all that ails me.  Perhaps not *all* that ails me but a considerably large portion thereof. 

I can't remember having felt this good in a very, very long time.  I know that I still have a long way to go to get my life back on track but I think I might be able to do it now -- and do it with a smile on my face.  Heck, even my husband remarked that I am in a good mood.  The last six weeks or so have been horribly grey and filled with doom and gloom (in the truest sense) and it just feels so good to be able to shake that off and look at life through rosier glasses.

This past week was Spring Break and, as you know, I was able to spend a large part of it with friends.  Some friends were old friends in Canada and others were new friends here (in the US).  My husband did not come to Canada with the children and me and once I was home, I was spending so much time with my friends here that it actually bordered on husband neglect.  I might have felt guilty about it except that I was too busy enjoying myself.  I figured that Hubby would be so happy for me that he wouldn't mind so much if I neglected him a little and I was right. He's been a trooper through the past few weeks.  He's let me be all moody and miserable and hasn't said too much about it, bless him.  Needless to say then, that he is just as happy as I am to see me with a smile on my face.

And that smile is there because my friends make me laugh.  All the time.  And when you laugh enough in a day, the smile sticks with you.  So my plan for happiness -- for the next while at least -- is to spend as much time as I can laughing with my friends.  I just hope they're ok with that...

Is Ignorance Bliss?

I've been wondering lately if perhaps it would be easier for me to be happier if I wasn't so sensitive to other people's feelings.  What if I were the kind of person who only worried about myself and my own feelings?  This is rather an impossible question, since being a mother makes me incapable of only thinking of myself.  I constantly have two other smallish beings to think about, care about and nurture.

But then there are also all the other family members and friends whose feelings I truly care about and who, as whole people, I truly care about.  If I cared less about them, would I be able to care more about myself?  And in doing so, would it be easier to place myself and my own feelings, wants, needs and desires on the top of the heap? 

My theory goes something like this: if I were less sensitive to how other people are feeling, I would be less prone to worry about them, would spend less time thinking of them, and would have more time to think of me.  I would therefore be happier due to being able to concentrate more on myself.  I wonder if perhaps I just need to be a bit less sensitive, less empathetic, and be a mite more ignorant. 

They say ignorance is bliss.  I wonder if maybe they are right.