That Comfortable Place

Sometimes my mind replays like a home movie. Summer time and being a kid always snaps me right back to my grandma’s at Lake Washington. My cousin Pammy was my first best friend and we would spend a few weeks together each year there, and I always had “Summer” to look forward to. Back then, the simple things filled me up with such contentment and joy. If only I could bottle those moments and take a swig every time I needed to feel that feeling again.

Funny how later, I let other things get in the way of those trips. I think that I was about sixteen and driving the first year I missed Seattle because of boys and jobs and other things I thought were more important back then. Now, I would give anything to recapture some of those moments for just a few days in my life.

I remember the smell of coffee and the first rays of sunlight flooding my room as I would pad down the stairs on those lazy summer mornings. Our days were not filled with anything special. Most were just hanging out and swimming and exploring the nearby woods. Sometimes I would invent adventures that my cousin usually was a willing participant in. We could spend hours planning shows and making tickets for our parents who would be the audience whether they liked it or not, or walking to the nearby store and sometimes sneaking to the lake instead.

Every empty building held a story that I would make up. The old girl’s boarding school, now all boarded up, held stories of characters that I would build adventures around. The big old corner house at the end of the block was definitely haunted. As well as the Synagogue around the block and our grandma’s basement! I was a writer and my imagination was my pen and my sweet little cousin a willing reader.

Today, those memories are like old books on a shelf, stories tucked inside the pages, not forgotten but hazy from time and space. Once opened, the scent of the pages and the joy of remembering seem to snap you into another time and place. Much like today. It is summer. So many decades later, and I want it all back. I want to go down the rabbit hole and spend my day in yesterday where our biggest problem was what bathing suit to wear to the pool.

This last weekend, I spent a few days visiting my childhood best friend. I met my daughter up there and we bunked together. I realize more and more how my baby reminds me so much of my little cousin and realize that I actually have “made” my own best friend! I enjoy her so much and love the quirky, crazy wonderful, fun, talented person she is becoming! It was so much fun having a slumber party with her for just a few days. Each night we would talk until the wee hours of the night… about silly memories and important things, about things that made us laugh till we cried and other things that just made us cry.  It reminded me of that comfortable place I shared with my cousin so many years ago. And for a tiny moment, I was transported back to those lazy summer nights where nothing mattered and yet every minute was the most important of all and it made me treasure the fact that every moment is what you make it.

Hole Fillers

We all have “containers” in life and we all find different ways to fill them. The idea is to fill them with purpose. Things that make our life better. As we fill our containers, the level rises. Just educating ourselves about ourselves begins to plug up those holes that we have made over the years. Some people use people, others use drugs or alcohol or food to fill the holes and what hurts us usually only helps to make our holes bigger.

Spiritual and emotional growth and a whole host of other goals  are all the things that help  fill the holes and raise the level in our containers. It has taken me years to recognize the good and the bad things I use in my own life to raise the level and the task at hand is becoming more aware of the difference which is a work in progress. I know that for me, writing is a huge hole filler.

My book is sitting in a file just a “click” away and I am totally procrastinating by coming here to share my thoughts. I look at it as priming the pump, or perhaps stretching before  a  workout! But I know I need to get back to it. Why am I stuck? Could it be because, I am afraid to finish? If I finished, I would have to submit it. If I submit it, I am vulnerable. I can’t be rejected if I don’t present the question for someone to say yes or no.

Recently, I have been taking more chances in my life. The kind of chances that come with the possibility of rejection attached. Sometimes it has paid off and at other times I have had to face that vulnerability and it has sucked. Rejection is not the most comfortable place to be. But hey “no” is just a tiny word from a little person in my BIG world. I can make that rejection fill my world and make it bigger than it needs to be or I can brush my shoes off and move on to the next possibility and even bigger opportunity.  Sometimes I have forgotten that God is the captain of my ship. And I am the one He has put in charge of His vessel and have to remember NO ONE else is in charge here. No one! I can get opinions from other people until I am drowning in them but ultimately, in the end, I know that I am the one who steers this ship.

I have waited long enough for others to make things happen for me. In turn, I have found myself “stuck.” Only I can make things happen for me. The opportunities aren’t going to come and find me. I am going to believe in me enough to finish that book, to submit it and get a thousand rejections if it will get me to that one finish line where I actually finish the race.

It is always hard to take that first step… Go back to school, apply for a new job, start a new health regimen, or just a new attitude! And perhaps finish a book you have been writing for years! We have power in our own choices. We fill our own containers. We even fill the holes as we figure out what they are, until someday…. Our containers are spilling over!

Say Cheese Please

An emoticon with a smile. For more emoticons in Wikipedia, see Wikipedia:Emoticons. 32px|alt=W3C|link=http://validator.w3.org/✓ The source code of this SVG is valid. Category:Valid SVG (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When I was in Junior High POW bracelets and happy face buttons were the rage. Funny, how I can connect two things that  are polar opposites. War and happiness. But maybe that is today’s metaphor for my life.Recently, my husband told me that he loves my smile and yet it looks as if I am always fighting against it, smiling that is. After trying to decide if that was a compliment or a creatively disguised dig, I decided to give him a pass and to really contemplate his words.

From as far back as I can remember, I think I have fought happiness. Just looking  back at the old black and white photos I have of myself as a kid,  I do tend to find more with a silly, half grin than a full on smile. And it makes me sad. Because I don’t think I ever allowed myself to fully experience joy from a very early age.

Lately, I have been on a quest to go back and get that kid and bring her home to the place that she belongs. With all of her disappointments and insecurities, I am not sure if I really want to. And yet I don’t think I have a choice nor can I ever really live in “me” until I do. Inviting this younger version of myself back into my life to really dig deep and explore some of the things I never have about myself is about as comfortable as inviting that obstinate step child who doesn’t want to be anywhere, least of all anywhere near you, to live with you!

As I look inside of myself, back, back, back, into a time in my life where there was joy and harmony, I find a kid with a grape juice stained mouth and a pile of books. I loved my grape juice and my books! I flash on sitting on the counter baking with my mom and can even still smell the glue as I remember watching my dad retile the tile in our bathroom. I remember rides in the car and the Drive in and picking berries on a summer day out in the woods in Washington. I remember feeding the ducks and moving to California and meeting my bestfriend who I have remained best friends with over the decades. And I smile.

But somewhere along the way, that kid got disappointed and things happened in her life that caused her to have a hard time trusting anyone let alone her self,  she felt hurt and misunderstood over and over and over again and re-visiting the parts of her pain  is not the easiest task at hand. Getting to know the younger version of yourself is about as comfortable as inviting that obstinate step child on a wonderful vacation. But we all need to go there. To interrupt our lives and explore the parts of us that never integrated into our adult self. If we don’t that kid will continually pop back into our life when we are least expecting them. They always seem to appear in the form of anger, or  fear or in the deepest part of our sorrow.

I have a feeling my childish self is not going to come or go quietly. She may even go kicking and screaming but I need to trust myself that it is going to be okay. It will be okay for her too. She is safe now, inside of the adult me. I have finally begun to trust myself and to quit relying on everyone else to make it better. To stop living in the past and finally take my own steps into the future. To trust myself and learn to love me and believe in me and KNOW that what I feel about me is enough. I am the boss of me. Well, of course God is the boss of me, but you know what I mean. I have been giving that power to everyone else in my life and I am taking it back from EVERYONE and only giving it to God and me! And I am empowered and the child in me calms and begins to relax in the knowledge that somebody else is in control now.

For so long, I have doubted everything about myself. My intelligence & abilities, my wisdom and even my morals and my own character and just when I fell into the darkest place of my life, that is when I began to see the light, as if lost in a cave, dark and damp, only to find the hope of a ray of light through the cracks. That is where I am now. I have found the light. I may not totally be out of the cave yet but I see the way out and I am going to beat the myth of being stuck in my child. Instead I am going to invite her to come into the light with me and find the joy. I am strong enough and smart enough and brave enough to guide her right to the light where she belongs.

I am going to stop fighting the smile. To believe  in the dream  that it really is okay to genuinely be happy and take new photographs and to smile really big.  And…“Say cheeeeese.” To let everyone know I am happy and that I don’t have to fight it any longer.

Flying Monkeys

The Yellow Brick Road’s spiral origins in the 1939 film (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

FROM THE INSIDE OUT

Last year I lost 50 pounds. This year I gained back 20ish… give or take a few depending on which sorry day I finally decided to step on the scale. I could pat myself on the back and tell me “that’s okay, you still lost 30 or find that magical “click” within,  that I found last year. I think we all know the “click” I am talking about. For me it was an irate driver that had barreled out of nowhere to cut me off in traffic spitting out cuss words that an obstinate teen ager should have been ashamed of let alone man in what must have been his late sixties. Funny thing is, my doctor or health conscious friends didn’t encourage me as much as that pathetically out of control poor soul that called me a “fat” bitch. In-between all the swearing and spitting, the one thing I heard was fat and you know what? If a stranger with issues won’t tell you the truth, who will?

My point is that every time  I have felt that “click” which is my very own custom made  AHA moment, I have been able to keep up the pace until something causes me to stop. It has happened to me enough times to make me really want to dig in and figure out how to bottle that “click” and to keep swallowing that metaphoric pill that challenges me.

After that day, I shared the story of that pathetic little man whose words may have been pulled out of his own rage but how it truly effected me, with a friend at work. She wanted to lose her own few pounds so we began walking, joined Weight Watchers together and then the gym. I kind of started out slow. Sure, I lost the first week worth of water weight. I have been known to lose 8 pounds in the first week and then it slows down. But this time, my friend  rather cluelessly, brought me her fat clothes that she was growing out of. Ha! It was the one kick in the butt I needed! In the end, it was kind of like the tortoise and the hare. She stopped at ten and I went on to fifty! And that is when I realized, I am competitive! So competitive!

And looking back at last year, I realized that I challenged myself to lose fifty pounds. I wanted to lose twenty more but once I hit fifty, something happened. I set a goal for myself. It could be a certain number or a size I want to reach or a dress I want to fit into or an event I want to look good for and once I have reached that goal…. I kind of have a spiraling down, melt down pattern. But all this contemplating the why and hows  have made me realize that I am truly competitive. Even with me. I don’t need to beat the other guy. I can even challenge myself as I set new goals. Weight Watchers worked for me because I had to be accountable and weigh in each week. I need accountability.

This new little fitbit contraption that was gifted to me last month works in a similar way. It has made me try to beat myself. I can weigh in at home. I can monitor my life style and perhaps finally figure out that the challenge is just to be healthy. That is one that I haven’t mastered quite yet. To look good for me. To feel good for me. To just be better for me. To stop fighting myself. To stop competing with myself. To just begin to be the best me I can be. It’s not a click or magic. You can’t bottle it as a pill. It is finding that place inside of you that is filled up from the inside out!

SAM I AM

I used to be such a Charlie Brown in my life, indecisive and uncommitted and continually having the football yanked out from under me. Kicking that ball that wasn’t really there and finding myself flat on my back, with the world pulled out from under me, over and over again wondering what the heck went wrong. I have to admit now that those opportunities for kicking have come less and less because my trust levels have gone way down. I used to be so gullible and trusted everyone…. but not so much anymore. I have caught myself waiting for the proverbial football to be yanked away and been surprised when it hasn’t.

Sadly, I have been hurt enough times where I miss the opportunity to kick that goal and regret it later, knowing I could have earned one for the team if I had just trusted others more. But really, what is one to do except turn into a SAM I AM… “I will not like them in a car, or a box or a house or on a train, I will not like them here or there… I will not like them ANYWHERE!!!! Geesh… is that what it has come down to? Relating to characters in someone else’s imagination? Hmmm… But really, don’t we all? I mean, really, haven’t we all felt like the old woman in the shoe… even with one or two kids… we feel like we don’t know what to do… or how about Old Mother Hubbard… she went to her cupboard and it was empty. Okay, okay, are all nursery rhymes sad? No wonder we are so screwed up when we finally grow up. Let’s see can we think of any good ones? Well, little Jack Horner sat in a corner …and finally figured out he was a good boy after all. And Mary, Mary was quite contrary but even her garden grew. But then there is… London bridges that all fell down and ….”oh my” stop me now.

What is my point? My point is…. That we compartmentalize everything in life so much, that it is no wonder that my Therapist is not taking any new clients! We have so many messages being thrown at us. Trust me… eat these green eggs… you will like them… I promise… I mean, how many people do I have to have following me around trying to convince me of things that I resist? I guess it all stems from my Charlie Brown days and that dumb football. It really hurt to trust over and over again only to be made a fool of and the fact is… Now, in this stage of my life I really do hate being talked into things but half the time I end up being glad I tried and even though it is hard to admit…. I do usually end up liking whatever it is I am resisting….. Sam I am.

Retrospect

If I could describe my life in one word right now, I would have to say it would be Retrospect.

Retrospect:

A review, survey, or contemplation of things in the past. v. ret·ro·spect·ed, ret·ro·spect·ing, ret·ro·spects. v.intr. 1. To contemplate the …

How totally and utterly perfect, I think as I looked up exact definitions of the word! That describes it to a Tee! My life that is, I am in the constant mode of evaluating where I have been.  Carpe diem on the other hand means to seize the day! And that is my quest! To somehow get past all this focus on yesterday and to move forward. Sounds so easy hey?

Once upon a time, I wondered who I would be when I grew up, what I would do, where I would live, who I would fall in love with, I wondered about my children and how many I would have, if I would be a good mother, wife, friend… successful… and wondered what success would look like to me. In other words, my life was just beginning. My pages of my life’s story were just being filled. I was in such a hurry to know the ending. Now it seems as if I reached the ending way too soon. The book has been filled and I am wondering…. “now what?”

I have a young friend that just messaged me from Germany. She is traveling this summer. Ahh to be young again! It gave me a melancholy retrospective feeling of regret for a moment. Wishing that I had traveled more, or at all!

The other day I was walking to the beach with one of my best friends of about 30 years. I was seizing the day so to speak as I fell kerplop like a klutz. When you fall it usually hurts. When I fall, I tend to spring right back up with the kind of adrenalin rush that comes from shock and embarrassment. This time, not so much, this time, it really hurt. In fact, I am still not sure I didn’t damage something in my arm. It made me realize one thing. I may not be “old” but I am definitely not as young as I used to be.

In retrospect, I think I have gone through a few years of what my Therapist and my family might call depression but I think it is clearly me just being stuck in this place of retrospect as I “contemplate things of my past.” After that fall, I have to admit, I was a little fearful of even WALKING! Oh my gosh! Are you kidding me? I am not going to let that fall get me down! (No pun intended!)

Recently, my in-laws bought me a fitbit. It is this little computer chip that you wear to tell you about your day’s worth of activity. I received 2 notifications that I had already earned two badges! This little contraption has re-motivated me to brush myself off and keep going. My in-laws are amazing through knee replacements and back surgeries and health set backs, they are busier than me on most days! My mother in law’s favorite Uncle played a mean game of tennis well into his 80s!

So in retrospect, my nest may be empty and my hard lean body may need a little work and my attitude a slight adjustment but I know for today. I have switched out the word that describes my life from :Retrospect to Carpe diem! Seize the Day girl! Seize the day! Well, excuse me as I slip on my fitbit and go earn some more badges…. I am off for my morning walk!

I am a writer

I have come to the conclusion that in-between being a kid, a wife, a mom, single or married. Working for myself as an artist or a store owner or  working for someone else, I have always been a writer. I have filled books with ideas and half started  stories I have written poems and lyrics for songs. I have a million, trillion words inside of me that I want to share.

I have listened and asked questions. I have read a thousand books and I have come to the conclusion that everyone has a story worth telling. We all can learn lessons from each other and we all should really be writers. But I “get” that some people don’t have the “need” to share their stories. Their words are kept neatly in their brains! Thank you very much!

All of  us have talents and weaknesses, sorrows and joy. We all beat to a different drum and so not everyone feels the same passion in their soul for the same thing another may. Which is a very good thing because not all teachers can design a building and not all Mechanics can assist in open heart surgery. But if it wasn’t squelched by life, most of us do have passion for something we want to be when we grow up, no matter how old we are. Some even get to get paid for doing whatever their passion is. But Passion is important. I feel so sad when I meet someone that never felt that kind of passion for something…. I have it.  The kind that makes you get up in the middle of the night to write what is in your head or else you feel as if you will burst kind of passion. Sometimes it does get in the way of life. When I have to get up early for a job and I have been writing all night, it does not always happen at the most convenient of times…. But I am glad I have it. It is a gift that can make the whole world go away or bring it straight to my front door.

A singer has to sing. An actress has to act, an artist has to create, a dancer has to dance and a doctor has to heal. A carpenter has to build, a comedian has to cause laughter, a swimmer has to swim and a writer has to write! Like a florist in her garden who takes time to smell the flowers, a writer’s words have their own sweet aroma that only her soul can smell.

In-between All The Pages

I have this theory. Our lives are like an empty book. Everyday we fill another page. Sometimes we fill a whole chapter in one day and at other times we may skip many days before we make another entry. Recently, I found one of my old journals. It was from my first husband, years ago, one Christmas. He had written “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” and the date. My son was three and I was twenty six. I remember feeling so much hope for what lay ahead. It is hard to believe that so much has happened in-between those pages. So many deaths and births and  hard times and celebrations. I guess what I know for sure is that life goes on. It doesn’t even stop when we do. And I have to tell you I have stopped and been stuck several times.

Today, I find myself in a place of self evaluation, in-between the pages of yesterday and today. Mainly, stuck in yesterday. I used to always want to fast forward everything but now, I wish that I could help everyone slow down and not try to get to the last page so fast. Somehow I missed out on stopping to smell the flowers or slowing down enough to experience the element of surprise.

We don’t always need to know what happens before we are there. Part of the joy is enjoying the story.

Hello world!

sunrise (Photo credit: Sean MacEntee)

This was the place where my journal with wordpress began. My very first post, or what was supposed to be.  They already inserted a title into my first post and so as I scrolled through all of my posts since, I found this place where I never officially began. I had another blog on another blog site (sugar.com, please feel free to go and find some of my earlier posts where I started blogging:)  http://fan1fan1mamma.onsugar.com/Retrospect-23487724 that was not as user friendly for my readers and so after writing what seemed like hundreds of entries, I decided to jump ship and climb on board here.

Even though I only began writing here seriously just a month or two ago…. I thought I would edit this space to welcome my readers. I would love to hear feedback or link blogs. I have gotten a lot of sweet notes on facebook or in person encouraging me and I love hearing your thoughts on any subject.

When I first started blogging, it was due to my last baby leaving the nest. Most of my writing focused around missing her. Today, it is hard to believe that five years later, I have evolved! Not everything is about her life but mine as well. Don’t get me wrong! If you ask my friends she is still my favorite subject but I have survived and I am proud of her and the panic has gone. I have realized that my kids are in their new chapters in their lives and I have finally begun to realize that though raising kids seems to be the BIGGEST part of our lives…. consider this,  if you live to be in … say in your eighties… the first 20 years of your life is the smallest percentage of it all. Besides your own childhood which seems to have a huge impact on everything after that. Funny isn’t it? We pack so much in the beginning that we forget how to live the sixty plus years we have left.

My story is about surviving the first few decades and learning that your dreams are not over when your kids begin having their own!

Sooo Hello World… this is my world and welcome to it!