Peaceful Dreams

Chris Rea's voice in this song fills me with such peace, when I listen it is a lullaby sung directly to my soul. I'm more than ready for sweet dreams this night.

Wishing myself sweet dreams, and no coughing, I am so weary of coughing.

There is no video, only his voice.

I'm So Confused!!!!

A phone call came late this afternoon from my son.

After our first few sentences, I actually started taking notes during the conversation, I didn't want to forget any of the important parts, because it really shook me up, more than I would have imagined. I have no idea what to think, what to feel. I am hopeful, yet that hope is tinged with disappointment. I had to ask myself so many questions once I hung up the phone and had time to reflect upon our conversation.

* * * * * * *

The conversation...

"Mom?"

"Hey, Son! Where are you?"

"At a hiker hostel about 30 miles from Springer."

"How are you?"

"I'm great, better than I have been in years, in fact, I'm elated."

"Mom, I'm coming home next week."

"Why next week?"

"Because, I've found out what's important to me. This isn't. I know it sounds like I am quitting, but I don't think I am. The trail will always be here. I know where I need to be right now, and it isn't here. I need to be spending time with you, with my sister, and with dad, especially dad?"

"Why especially your dad?"

"Because I don't know him."

I couldn't help it, I immediately teared up when I heard that.

"Mom, are you alright?"

"Yes. Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"I've spent these past 8 days thinking of nothing else, and the last few days talking to a lot of people. Most of them couldn't believe it when they heard I was missing my sister's graduation. They said I was being selfish, I told them I talked to her about it and she didn't care. Several told me I would be sorry if I missed it, it's a once in a lifetime occasion. One guy asked me, what's most important to me right now. I thought about it, and I do feel selfish.

I have been selfish."

"You've been selfish for a really long time now babe."

"I know, I wrote in my journal, selfish hurts."

"How do you feel right now?"

"I'm sunburned and happy, happier than I've been for so long. Although I am worried about my ears, they're pretty badly burned."

"Put some aloe on them. Are you journaling all of this, your thoughts, your feelings?"

"Yes, I still have some things I need to reconcile, but I found out most of what I needed to find out."

"That's what a part of this trip was about."

"It was a really expensive way to find out."

"That depends. It depends on you, and what you do when you come home. It depends on whether these changes you want to make, the way you feel lasts. If it does, then it was a bargain, babe. But, if you slide back into depression, if you end up living like you have for the past year or more, then yes it was expensive. But, I will tell you this. If you come back, and end up sliding backward, I am going to buy one of those long swimming pool noodle things, and I am going to beat you with it."

He laughed, "Do it, and then say Springer Mountain. Because that's part of why I feel so good, I did it! I climbed it, I made it up to Springer, what I couldn't do before. I did it, and it was beautiful, the most beautiful view I have ever seen."

"They say there are even more beautiful spots along the trail."

"Really? They would have to be phenomenal, Springer Mountain is amazing."

"Mom, I feel like talking for awhile, is that okay?"

"Yes, go on, I have all the time in the world."

"Mom, will you make me a list. A list of all the repairs you need done on the house?"

I laughed, "That's a really long list, and anyway, I can't afford them all."

"I can help with that, some things can be done really inexpensively. I've seen some really great decks while I've been down here. I think I could make ours better."

"It could definitely use some sprucing up."

"Son, are you sure?"

"Mom, I have made lists in my journal, so many. There're things I need to make up for. I need to help dad more on the farm. I need to help you. I need to con dad into going fishing with me...if he will. I want to keep hiking, all summer, just I like I would be if I were still here. I want to get the motor cycle license I've been talking about for so long. I have a lot to think about, decisions to make about school, and a lot of other things."

"Okay, I think I understand. What was the trail like? How far did you walk each day? Did you meet many hikers? What are the shelters like, did you use them, or camp outside them? Did you see any bears?"

"Wow, hold on...the trail is great, easier than I thought it would be. I was doing about ten miles a day, I set a pace for myself, one I knew I could keep up all day, it worked, though I was exhausted each night. In fact I walk further than most of the other hikers, not that I walk faster, but they seem to stop a lot more often. I ran into the same guy off and on over the days, we would talk. He had an encounter with a bear at one of the shelters, in fact from his description, it sounded exactly like the behavior of bears that stalk, hunt and kill humans, I think he was really lucky there were other hikers around, or he would have been seriously hurt."

"Oh no! I guess he was lucky. I wonder what they do, do they report the location of the bear, its unusual behavior?"

"I think so, don't know though."

"The shelters are full of mice, last night, I left my socks on top of my hiking shoes, and the mice chewed a hole in each of my socks...just my socks, they didn't get into my pack or anything else, really weird."

"They must like the taste of your feet."

"Anyway, Mom, I will tell you all about it when I get home, which should be around Thursday, I have to hitch a ride back to Gainesville, it's the closest bus station."

"Alright, but Son, if you change your mind, decide to stay on the trail, or go somewhere else for awhile, just let me know...okay?"

"I will, I love you mom."

"I love you too, and hey, get some aloe vera gel for your ears."

* * * * * * *

I sat in the chair thinking over our conversation for well over an hour...trying to understand. My emotions are mixed. I am happy for him, surprised this epiphany of his occurred so quickly, but I also understand that sometimes it really can happen that way.

But, I also wondered, is he just home sick, and isn't willing to admit it? But, then I think of when he went to Japan in 2004, granted he was only gone for 16 days, but he didn't want to come home, he loved it there, he wasn't homesick at all. All of these wonderful feelings, plans, goals, that are filling his mind, they are very real to him now, he is full of new found self-confidence, and self-belief, but, will it last once he returns home?

I also had to determine why I was so disappointed he wasn't staying on the trail longer. I had to question, how much of this adventure of his was really my way of vicariously fulfilling my own dreams? Is that why I feel so much disappointment? I have to be honest with myself...it is.

But, I also wish he would give it some more time. He's there already, why not go for it? He could stay out for another two weeks and still not miss his sister's graduation. I know it would cost him more money. But, I don't know, I just don't think he gave it enough time. But that is me. I am so unsure of what do or say. Do I tell him I think he should continue for a few more days? Do I track down the hostel he is staying at and voice my opinion? Or, do I stay out of it? Is it detrimental to tell him, or more detrimental to not tell him? This is his decision after all, his life.

When I told my mother, and sister, they were thrilled he is returning home already. Why aren't I? His dad feels the same way I do, why not stay another week or two? I think we are both fearful this is just another way of taking the easiest path. GRrrrrrrrrrr! I JUST DON'T KNOW!

This child, actually both of my children, have me literally pulling my hair out at times.

Feeling a Little...Woeful, Weary, Worried, and Winsome.

It's prom weekend here, and I am a little blue. Miss Daughter decided she did not wish to attend hers. Her reasoning is sound, she knew she and Boyfriend would not enjoy themselves. But, I am a bit woebegone about it. I really looked forward to seeing her in her finery, Boyfriend too. They make a very nice looking couple, they are well-matched in coloring, looks, and height. Even knowing, I didn't really enjoy my own prom, and knowing she is right in that they would find the atmosphere boring, I still wanted them to go, they both love to dance, and ~whine~ I so wanted to see them all dressed up. There is just a certain feeling in the air when a beautiful young woman dons formal dress to go dancing in. Sigh.

* * * * * * *

Mary, over at Idle Wonderings blog, posted some photos of her menagerie à trois, (sorry couldn't resist ~grin~), anyway, as I was admiring her lovely animals, I had a memory flicker regarding my household after I moved here, and how eerily quiet it seemed at times.

In our old home, it was never quiet, as we had our own menagerie, most often at least two dogs, a house cat, a burbling bubbling aquarium full of fish, an 8 year old red painted turtle in another aquarium, and a 13 year old leopard gecko, not to mention the unknown number of outside cats mrowing at odd times throughout the night, and there was usually a guinea pig or a pair of pet rats burrowing away in a cage.

When I moved here, we had Kiko, my son's dog, and Harold, the goldfish. Why I brought Harold with me, I am not entirely sure. He once lived in my garden pond, which I loved, maybe it was my promise to myself to have another garden pond. Harold is the silent sort though, one wouldn't know he was around at all, if his bowl wasn't in such a prominent position on the kitchen counter. I remember sitting in the living room here some evenings, and thinking how very very silent the house seemed.

We went 8 months with no new members added to the family. Then of course in January we had the 8 puppies, no more silence then! But 7 of them soon found new homes. Until recently, we had only Moose, Kiko, and Harold. Last Saturday, as I was feeding Harold, I noticed he wasn't alone in his bowl. There was a tiny little goldfish swimming with him. It would be an understatement to say I was surprised. Shocked would be a better word. My jumbled thought process went something like..."Where could this fish have come from? Miss Daughter is not in the habit of bringing home strange fish...strange teen-agers yes...but fish no. Harold certainly has no way of cloning himself, or herself..." I soon found out where the little fish came from. One of Miss Daughters friends, had purchased it at the pet store, and had forgotten the bag was in the back seat of his car, until another friend sat on the bag, and complained of a wet behind. The friend freaked when he remembered the fish, Miss Daughter rescued little fish...thus we now have Maude.



On Monday we brought home Bear, a 5 month old kitten that a co-worker was unable to find an adoptive home for...so yeah, I had to adopt Bear, I had mice, and needed a cat...I really didn't miss having a cat...nope, not at all. (It is really weird that I did, as some of our house cats and I did not really get along, well, it wasn't really the cats, it was the fact that I was the only one who cleaned up after them). By the way, the silica litter is AMAZING! No odor, so easy to clean, thus, it lasts a lot longer, plus there is NO ODOR!

In a few weeks, it seems we will be adding a couple of lab rats to the mix. Miss Daughter is in a Psychology class, and they are experimenting with young rats. Her group plans on teaching them to become runway models, she wanted to teach them to play the guitar and drums, but was outvoted by her two lab partners. Anyway, when school is out, the rats will come home with her. I don't know why other parents won't allow it...I was the only parent that was willing to adopt the rats from her fifth grade experiment too.

I think, after the rats are assimilated into our family, I should add a bird, maybe a parrot. I have always been intrigued by Alex the African Grey Parrot. After that who knows? Maybe, I can import a common house gecko or two from the Florida Keys. Adult geckos eat spiders, so I could definitely use a pair.

Miss daughter thinks that when she gets her own apartment she will be taking Moose and the rats with her. Why do I doubt this?

* * * * * * *

For several days this week I experienced something that was rather frightening in that I felt I somewhat knew how it felt to be in the "shoes of another", for the same reason it was also enlightening. I have many clients with medical diagnoses of Emphysema, Congestive Heart Failure, and C.O.P.D. The most debilitating symptoms being chronic shortness of breath, and a generalized weakness. I have a cold, one that has settled in the bronchial tubes, for several days it felt as if I couldn't breathe deep enough, or fully enough, my lungs would fill with air, but seemed unable to distribute the oxygen. I experienced a small taste of how my clients live, I'm lucky though, my symptoms will go away.

A spring cold that came on innocuously enough, a tickle in the throat, sneezing...of course they had to be in sets of three. Eventually these were accompanied by a scratchy throat, itchy inner ears, sinus headaches, and achy muscles. Silly me, I still thought I was escaping the worst of it. No such luck. By Wednesday, my head was stuffed with cotton, my nose swollen and clogged, lungs felt as if they were working at one-third capacity, muscles were tight and achey, I was hot, then chilled, then hot again, if I laughed, called the dogs, or even tilted my head skyward, off I would go into such a coughing fit! Even my reaction times were slowed, thoughts would dim and brighten like a florescent light with a bad starter.

Today I finally feel as if I am on the path to healing. At least I don't feel as if I my bulbs are quite so dim. Which is a good thing...since I have two and a half days of paperwork to make up.

* * * * * * *

My son called Thursday night. He had reached Springer Mountain the Southern Terminus of the AT. He was tired, and pensive. When I asked why his thoughts were wistful, he hesitated for a moment, before saying, "I don't really remember why I wanted to do this. I really began to wonder why, when I was telling my story to an old man I shared camp with last night. I thought, I shouldn't be here, I should be in school, I should have signed up for the summer session." He said a better use of his summer would be attending classes at the local university. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, only time will tell.

As I listened, several thoughts came to mind, in regard to his current feelings.

Perhaps, he was in the midst of that let-down mode, we all go through it after we have been riding an adrenalin rush, not exactly depression, but a low-key mood tinged with melancholy.

Or, telling his story to the old man may have induced him to view himself through the eyes of a stranger, a more objective view than he is used to.

Or, he had just finished his first day of hiking, which is a fairly constant up and down, while increasing in elevation. Thus he was tired, bone tired, and the thought of more days like the one he just finished may have seemed quite daunting since he did not train physically for the hike.

I reminded him of... A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson, and the fact that he's read the book 4 or 5 times, I also reminded him of how strongly the Chris McCandless story affected him, he read Into the Wild by John Krakauer twice that I know of, and also watched the movie twice. I suggested to him there was something in them, that fascinated him, something that kept his dream alive.

I think/hope he will find why he is there, hope he will find what he went looking for, (even if it is back home), he will know when it is time to go on, or turn back. No one can else can tell him, he must find it out on his own. The only definitive statement I was willing to give him was, "I will support you, in any decision you make. Know that, and know I love you."

I haven't heard from him since, and doubt I will for several more days, if not weeks. He did not recharge his phone, so the battery was almost completely worn down.

My thoughts float over wide territory when I think of him, and what he may be doing at any given moment. I have no idea whether he will stick it out on the trail, head off in a completely new direction, or if I will find him standing on my doorstep one day soon. I have to admit, no matter how I try not to, I am worried about him.

* * * * * * *

I kind of like having Bear around, although I think he is misnamed, (we didn't name him), I think he should be named DiggerBob. Bob, for Bobcat...his coloring reminds me of one, and Digger is an apt description of when those sharp claws of his take away bits of my skin...

Gotta say though, I like it when he is curled up on my lap, drowsily purring away as I type. His contentment is contagious.

Trail Update

My son's backpack arrived at the bus station today, untouched, all in order. The last I heard from him, he was camping at a state park for the night, then starting out for the trail in the morning.

In my attempts to help him locate the pack, I became a member of a hiker's forum, where I encountered a wonderful group of people. I hope he has the opportunity to meet some of them during his journey.

* * * * * * *

Since I filed for divorce last summer, I have had little contact with those people I considered "family friends". Due to the very nature of my marital relationship, almost all of our friends were more my husbands than my own, and I did not wish them to think they had to choose sides. Earlier tonight, I called our friend in Georgia, to thank him for his kindness in helping my son these past few days. It was wonderful speaking with our Georgia friend, it has been a long time since we have taken the time to really talk. I had forgotten how much I miss him. He spent so much of his teen and university years in our home, he was/is like a member of the family.

He is such a sweetheart, I felt rather sad though, because all of this time, he has been holding onto the hope that soon-to-be-ex and I will both change, and work it out...i.e. no divorce. Eventually I was able to convince him that is not going to happen, and he then became quite supportive of me. He asked if I was going to stay here in the area, or move, even suggesting I send him my CV, so that he could forward it to a headhunter friend of his. I thanked him, but know I am not quite ready to leave here yet, not until Miss Daughter has started attending college at least. Then...who knows...maybe the world truly is my oyster.

He, along with several other wonderful people in my life, have finally convinced me, that they do love me, for me, they like having me as a part of their lives. I know that may sound strange to many, but my sense of self-worth suffered quite a lot of damage the past 20 some odd years, but, I think I am really on the road to accepting that I am not such a bad person after all.

I am one very lucky woman, I have such wonderful, giving, loving people in my life, sometimes, I really do forget that.


Today, was a good day.

Stressed? Me? Never!

* * * * * * *

ON THE TRAIL?

I wrote last week of how much I knew I would miss my son while he is away.

Today, I am hoping I will miss him.

His trip has not had the most auspicious of beginnings.

He boarded his bus on Friday morning...Miss Daughter and I said our goodbyes, and cried as we knew would. But we were also filled with hope for him and faith in him.

He arrived in Gainesville, Georgia Saturday morning around 10:00 AM.

He arrived, his back pack did not.

He has been patiently waiting since.

I have talked to him at least once a day since Saturday. He makes multiple treks daily to the bus terminal, hoping his pack has arrived. This morning they told him they had located in it Nashville, Tennessee and had sent it on another bus to him. As of 8:00 PM this evening it had not yet arrived.

The poor guy....Murphy has most definitely been dogging his tracks.




By Sunday morning he felt stymied and greatly discouraged, as Greyhound has been a little less than helpful. ~insert sarcasm here~

Finally by Sunday afternoon, I decided to let the Mama Bear in me have control, especially since he is several hundred miles away, and couldn't really stop me from butting in. I just couldn't help it, really! I had to do something! I kept imagining myself in a similar situation, and I would hate it! Plus I want him to go for this dream. I have a very difficult time allowing things to stand in my way when I think something is important, and he is important to me. So, on Sunday afternoon, I became a member of an Appalachian Hiking forum, and posted a thread about his predicament. The response has been amazing. One gentleman offered to replace his pack and contents for him if his own doesn't show up. Another young man, who works in Gainesville, Georgia has offered his help as well. Many others have offered up advice, very useful advice.

Tonight, I finally broke down, and called a very dear friend who lives in Atlanta, to ask if he could find the time to stop by the Atlanta bus terminal. He was more than happy to do so. But within minutes after we had ended our conversation, he called me back. This dear friend has cleared his afternoon calendar for tomorrow, he is going to check the Atlanta terminal Tuesday morning, and if the pack is not found, he has insisted upon driving to Gainesville to pick up Mr. Son and have him stay with him for a few days to continue the search. He was actually quite put out with me for not calling sooner...describing us as a family of stubborn mule-headed ...eh I can't remember the rest of the names he called us...~smile~.

When I spoke with my son this morning, he sounded so weary, so disheartened. As we ended our conversation tonight, his attitude had changed, the sense of dismay has left him, he is readying himself to continue the battle to live his dream. With his voice full of emotion he thanked me. I told him his gratitude was unnecessary, I have not really done anything. He responded by telling me, "You've done a lot, and knowing you support me in this, has been important in getting me through these last few days." It wasn't just me though, it was the messages of so many others willing to help, we often forget how giving our fellow human beings are, or we hold onto a stubborn pride afraid of asking for help.

Was I an interfering mother? Or, just someone who wanted to help in anyway I could? I haven't decided yet. But, it was wonderful to hear the sound of hope in his voice again.

* * * * * * *

I took photographs of my two darlings on Friday morning, and they gave me permission to post one on here.

* * * * * * *

Remember the colony of mice invading my home?

They now have a new animal to contend with.

Bear

Take that you meeses!


* * * * * * *

In a Mood-Part 2

I have been examining this recent mood of mine. In the process of self-examination I have arrived at several conclusions.

• Without even really realizing it, I have been editing what I write here, just because it is read. I am of the mindset, that an occasional comment is useful in the learning process, but, if I am unable to post my honest emotions then I need to take the blogs private. This is a record of my journey, a record I know I have to write, as a lifetime of journaling has taught me, having the ability to reread what I have written has often proved a very useful map along my continued road to emotional healing, as it does prove to me that I am 'getting there'.

• I am a bundle of confusion, I listen to words, a plethora of words, yet, there are times when I take more meaning from the words spoken, and am unable to read actions. I have lived so long, distrusting words, I miss something along the way. I hear the words, I read the words, but when I attempt to match the words with actions, there are often so many ambiguities I am unable to make sense of it all.
  

• I am allowing myself to be distracted from important needs in my life. I must learn to set these distractions aside, as they quickly become detrimental to me and my emotional health.

• This recent mood of mine has taught me...how completely and complexly human I am...I am lost, I am found, I am depressed, I am more centered than I have ever been, I have dreams, I have hope, I live a life of quiet desperation at times, I am a quivering bundle of unmet needs, I am filled with desires, I am filled with joy, my soul is hungry, yet there is nothing to fill it, I am filled with the need to be gathered up in the arms of a lover, and to be held for hours and hours, I am filled with the need to be shown love, yet I am not ready for such a love, I am imperfect, yet in some ways I am perfect because I am me, I am hiding so much pain, yet so willing to let it out when I trust...but I can't trust, trust now has to be earned, I do not give my trust easily any more, I try, oh how I try, this saddens me, but no matter how hard I try, I can't. I am trying in other ways, the best I can, but it doesn't seem to be good enough.
  

• I keep my emotions buried. Eventually I must let them out, or I become a volcano of emotion. Then the emotions erupt in way I am poor at controlling. At times I don't wish to control them. I am trying the best I can to be open, honest, and loving. Yet even though I try, I fail.

* * * * * * *

My life has become a dance.
I move forward, I move backward,
I sidestep, and sidestep again.
I dance away, I dance to.
I am still learning the steps.

Some days, I know them,
yet they do not flow.
I feel discontent, frustrated, clumsy.
Dancing awkwardly.

Some days, I lose the steps,
the past is alive inside me,
I worry, I fear I have lost my way.
Dancing morosely.

Some days, I watch others dance,
they glide so smoothly, why don't I?
I feel uneasy residing in this body of mine,
Dancing erratically.

Some days, how I dance doesn't matter,
I hear the music, I feel the music,
I am the music, I am peace.
Dancing joyfully.

Grace, joy, love fill the air,
I dance across the sky,
following moon beams.
Not often though, not nearly often enough.

In a Mood

A few days ago, someone said to me, "You're in a mood."

Which took me aback at first, but he was right. I was in a mood, and have been off and on for several days.

I am in a mood...A mood in which I really don't see much in my life that I really like lately.
I can take it apart, examine each small part, and always, always find something positive, but damn it all, sometimes I really just need to NOT do that! I need to allow myself some anger, some self-righteous feelings, maybe...gasp...maybe...I should just allow myself to wallow in some of my more judgmental opinions before I discount them for what they are.

I am in a mood...A mood in which I can laugh, cry, sing, mope, pout, dance, and cry again, within moments.

I am in a mood...A mood that at times gives me the strength to say exactly what I am thinking without trying to sugarcoat it. I am so very weary of being nice all of the time. I am tired of not saying what I think because it might hurt someone's feelings, or might be taken as too harsh.

I am in a mood...A mood that encourages me to just get plain pissed off when I ask someone what they're thinking, and they say, "Nothing special". If they don't want to tell me what they're thinking then just say so. Or, tell me, just tell me, what they are thinking...because I know their minds are not empty! OK, I take that back, some of the people I talk to...yeah their minds could truly at times be empty...but most of the people I speak with are fairly normal...and no normal brain IS EVER EMPTY!

I am in a mood...A mood in which I am angry at myself, for allowing idiotic 'stuff' to depress me.

I am in a mood...A mood that is exhibiting itself because I have some emotional feelings buried extremely deep...feelings that for some damn reason I am not willing to deal with.

I am in a mood...A mood created by my feelings of guilt over this divorce. Why do I keep feeling guilty? He hurt me! He manipulated me! He used cruel behaviors because he knew exactly how I would react, the emotions they would engender, and more, so much more. Yet, I carry this damn guilt, reviling myself for being so selfish.

* * * * * * *

"Never Grow a wishbone where your backbone ought to be"
~Cynthia Paddleford~

"A 'No' uttered from deepest conviction is better and greater than a 'Yes' merely uttered to please, or what is worse, to avoid trouble."
~Mahatma Gandhi~

"If you have made mistakes. . . there is always another chance for you. . . You may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for this thing we call 'failure' is not the falling down but the staying down."
~Mary Pickford~

"I have no time for those who whine and cry but do not exert themselves to try to actively improve a situation they are unhappy about." ~anon~

"Some people prefer the passenger role, because it imposes no real pressure to decide or stand accountable for their life results."
~Phillip C. McGraw~

"The only difference between a Rut and a Grave is their dimensions
~Ellen Glasgow~

"Be yourself! Be yourself, the magazines insistently croon, so long as your REAL self has a killer body and a starlet's face. Granted the magazines also speak to ambition and self-worth, but image rules tyrannically over all."
~Judith Timson (speaking about teen magazines), McCleans, Sept 2001.~

"Most so called professionals would say that those that find themselves in abusive relationships suffer from low "self esteem"... This is subjective clap trap. What abused people suffer from is a lack of self worth. Which is not something you can chant yourself into believing. You earn it by working for it. The value you place on yourself as a human being will be determined by the work you do to become a thinking human being."
~James A. (Mac) Warren~

"Principles only mean something if you stick by them when they are inconvenient."
~Laine Hanson" (played by Joan Allen) from the movie "The Contender"~

"I like to look good, that makes me a tease. I like to eat, that makes me a pig. I like to get off, that makes me a slut. I like to be treated with respect, that makes me a man-hating dyke. Trust me, I have no problem being labeled a bitch."
~ Maddy~

"What does it mean to feel "in control" of your life? What I mean by control is the ability to make a choice. Personal sovereignty means that you choose from what is available in order to be intentional about your life...When you feel in control of your life, you know yourself to be the author of your own actions and know that you always have choices."
~ Polly Young-Eisendrath, from "Women and Desire"~

"Self-castigation does no one any good, most especially the castigator."
~me~

"There is no magical unicorn that will save me from myself. It's up to me.
~a plagarism from somewhere~

* * * * * * *

*and no, I am not prementrual, nor menstrual, but I have been drinking, and I need some long strong fingers to give me a massage, one that leaves me moaning...preferably in ecstasy.

**I am also in a mood, because I have a fricking colony of mice living in my house now...is that retribution for the stomped one?

Thought Bubbles

If a cow laughed real hard would milk come out of her nose?

I feel as if I am entering an unfamiliar world, there are so many emotions peculating within me.

Change is in the air, palpably so.

Spring is finally truly here, and with the coming of the sun, my mind has lost the last of its cotton batting, I am full of wants, wishes, dreams, and needs.





Mr. Son leaves tomorrow. I am excited for him, filled with hopeful dreams for him. The journey he is about to embark upon has so much potential. Unknown potential, there can be few expectations because the entire journey is unpredictable. There are no certainties, except that he will be spending 20 plus hours on a Grey Hound bus. The rest, it is up to him, the weather, the terrain, the people he will meet.

I soooo totally want to be doing something similar.

A dream I have entertained for so many years of my life...to just take off...leaving no responsibilities behind...to just go...in whatever direction takes my fancy. Seeking out the off beaten track, the oddities of this country of ours. The well known places enter into it as well, but mostly I want to just float from place to place...stopping here or there. Funny thing is, I know two men who have done just that, I don't know any women who have. I want to be the woman.

So, Mr. Son is leaving, he will not really be gone that long, a couple of months at the most, but I am full of small and large worries already. Knowing there will be moments in each day, when I will wonder, when I will gaze off into the distance and think of him, wondering if he is well, where he is, what he is doing. Knowing that to keep my sanity, there will also be moments when I will forget he is away, when I will forget he is off on his quest. Then there will come a moment when I will remember, and the worry will immediately eat at me. But, I also know there will be many moments when I will be filled with the vicarious thrill of him going off to live his dream.

There is this one part of me that feels all I wrote above. There is another part of me though, that looks at his near empty bedroom (he has packed much of his belongings away), and I have plans for it, (he has already told me he expects me to move in there). Plans to repaint, to get a real bed, maybe even a queen size bed! There are guilty thoughts too. I won't have to buy 4 gallons of orange juice a week, one will do. Thoughts of grocery bills cut in half. Thoughts of no more toothpaste being spat into my kitchen sink. Thoughts of no more cigarette butts found ground out in my favorite coffee cup.

Another part of me, knows I will miss him, I will miss our occasional late night chats, his unique viewpoint on the world. I will miss his warm brown-hazel eyes, and that quick smile of his. I will miss hearing the giggles and guffaws of him and Miss Daughter enjoying each other, I will even miss their arguments. I will miss hearing his voice, even though there are times he sounds so much like his father. I will miss hearing him mumbling to himself when he thinks he is alone. I will miss listening to him practice his not-whistle, he can't whistle, he never could, as a small boy he would spend what seemed like hours trying to whistle, and now when the whimsy strikes he will spend upwards of thirty minutes trying to emit a real trill of a whistle. It never happens though...maybe on the trail. It makes me smile just to think of it.

Miss Daughter and I are going to drive him to the bus station tomorrow morning, we will go out for a late breakfast first, and then he will board his bus. She and I will look at each other, our eyes will meet, we will share a smile because he is off following his dream, then our smiles will falter, we will hug, we will cry a little, she will return to school, and I will return to work. We might forget he is gone, until we return home. It will take a few days, maybe a week or two, then we will grow accustomed to his absence. We will create new routines, new ways to fill the places he fills, then he will return, and we will happily open up that space for him again, until he finds a place of his own.




I was speaking to a dear friend the other day, he is in the midst of a love affair. He is infatuated, filled with lust, but also love, so much love. There are circumstances hindering their being together, and it is tearing him apart. He doesn't sleep, is barely functioning at work, and riding a roller coaster of emotions. In his sharing of the angsts he has been going through, we have become closer than ever before. There are many similarities between his lover and I, many differences as well, but the similarities are enough that I make a very good sounding board for him.

Anyway, in the midst of one of our conversations, he said to me, "Sunny, you deserve to be loved You deserve to loved for who you are, as you are. You deserve to be shown the affection you so richly deserve. You are smart, loving, funny, even though you are a little crazy. I love you, and you deserve to be listened to, your opinions count. You deserve to be cherished. You deserve it all, please don't settle for less than that. You DO deserve it."

I told him I wouldn't settle. I may not know what I want in this life, but I have learned what I don't want.

Of course it is difficult at times to think, "I do deserve it." There are times when I find myself falling backward, allowing all of my years of guilt, and negative thinking to come to the fore. But, I also come out of it much faster than I used to.

There are days when I know who I am, and even though I am often a confusing mix of needs unmet, and not wanting some of those needs met, because having those needs met will not help me continue to grow. There are days in which I feel I can do anything, and days when I feel as if I have no capabilities at all. There are days when I really do believe it when I say, "Damn! I'm good!" There are also those days in which I quiver on the edge of despair wishing I were better than I am.




I am a major procrastinator, I almost seek out failure with my utter lack of motivation at times. But, then the little voice in my head starts in, "What are you doing? You don't want to fail, you can't, you would hate yourself if you allow that. Get up, get moving, give it your best shot. Do it, do it now!"

I have so many plans roaming around in my brain, they build upon each other to the point that I feel as if I will not accomplish any of them.

I have flower and vegetable beds to dig, shape, and plant, a riding mower I have to do the spring maintenance on (and I don't know how to do it! But I know I can), grass to mow--soon! I have a clothes dryer to repair, a tub that needs caulked or replaced, walls to paint, floors to repair, carpets to clean, bookshelves to design...maybe build. I have a divorce to finish, dogs to train, screens to repair, bird feeders to put up (buy first), a divorce to finish, a Girl Scout trip to plan, a High School Graduation Open House to plan, and a Graduation party to plan the week after. I have a test to prepare for, a daughter I need to spend time with. I have a body that currently feels like an old bloated toad's belly that needs exercise--badly! I have 30 clients to open before the end of the month. I have a mother and father to cherish, a sister and a niece that need my help, a friend/lover I want to spend time with. I have books stacked knee high that are calling to me to be read, spiderwebs that need removed, mice to relocate, tools to find, lists for the divorce settlement to make. I have to buy new tires, and stone for my driveways, (and I have no money *whine*). All before the end of May.

Looking over my list of must dos, for that is how I see them they are not should dos, there were advantages to being married. Anything on the list that has repair as a part of it, my husband would have done, or we would have done it together. Now it is all my responsibility, I don't regret it, but being the Queen of Procrastination, I do wonder how much of it I will actually accomplish.




Ah well, this is my life. A life I am choosing. Even though I am whining, it is kind of exciting, because it is MY LIFE.

A Message from Bruce Springsteen

Dear Friends and Fans:

Like most of you, I've been following the campaign and I have now seen and heard enough to know where I stand. Senator Obama, in my view, is head and shoulders above the rest.

He has the depth, the reflectiveness, and the resilience to be our next President. He speaks to the America I've envisioned in my music for the past 35 years, a generous nation with a citizenry willing to tackle nuanced and complex problems, a country that's interested in its collective destiny and in the potential of its gathered spirit. A place where "...nobody crowds you, and nobody goes it alone."

At the moment, critics have tried to diminish Senator Obama through the exaggeration of certain of his comments and relationships. While these matters are worthy of some discussion, they have been ripped out of the context and fabric of the man's life and vision, so well described in his excellent book, Dreams of My Father, often in order to distract us from discussing the real issues: war and peace, the fight for economic and racial justice, reaffirming our Constitution, and the protection and enhancement of our environment.

After the terrible damage done over the past eight years, a great American reclamation project needs to be undertaken. I believe that Senator Obama is the best candidate to lead that project and to lead us into the 21st Century with a renewed sense of moral purpose and of ourselves as Americans.

Over here on E Street, we're proud to support Obama for President.

Bruce Springsteen

Oh, Yeah!

Pre-Goodbyes

My son is leaving on Friday.

He is of the age when many are graduating from college, (in fact many of his friends are doing just that this spring), he is not moving away to start his life/career as an adult, he is not going off to war. He is attempting to fulfill a dream. A dream he has had since the age of 12, a dream he attempted once before.

~~~

My son, this young man I love so much, approached me tonight with a most unusual question, "How was your day?"

"Fair to middlin', with middlin' being the operative word."

We chatted, touching on a variety of subjects--The idiosyncrasies of the American work place. Personal ethics and doing what feels right in any given situation, be it small or large. How appreciative people can be of the most insignificant seeming gesture. His recent experience with a man filled with road rage. His absentee ballot for the upcoming primary, and how he has tried to influence his friends into voting for Barack Obama.

Finally though, after about 45 minutes of chit chat, we got to the real reason he approached me tonight.

He said, "I came in here to ask you a specific question, but I forgot what it was."

"You ask me how my day was."

"That was just a conversation starter, I am getting to be more socially competent."

"Yes, I know, but you don't have to be with me, I'm your mother."

"I need the practice."

A long pause from him, a meeting of our eyes, before he glanced away.

I smiled up at him, "We'll be OK...really...we will."

"I am worried."

"I know, but we will be OK. I will be, your sister will be, and your dad will be. I promise."

"I'm worried about dad. Now that he has type 2 Diabetes, and he's taking medicine for high blood pressure. This indestructible man, is becoming frail."

"He'll be OK too. He can regulate both with the proper diet, and his medications. He may have to give up some of his love for red meat, and ice cream, but he can do it."

"Yeah, he's stocking the fridge with better food now."

"See? He will take care of himself. You don't need to worry. Whatever happens, we will all get through it, work through it. I know this divorce business is worrisome. You have no idea how many times I have wondered if we could work it out. Maybe, if we had tried counseling again...maybe... In the long run, though I could be wrong, I'm pretty confident I made the right decision."

"I know you did. That sounds weird for me to say, but, I know you did, it's better for both of you."

"I think so too. And, your sister and I, we'll be alright. We really will."

"Do you think it's disloyal of me, if I quit work tomorrow, instead working through to Thursday? I really feel like I need the extra time to know I have everything I need. I mean, I know I do, but...I still feel the need to review it, and make sure."

"You have to do what feels right for you. If you feel better quitting now, then tell them."

"I think I will."

"I love you, now give me a hug, I am not going to have those available to me for the next few months."

~~~

I could tell I didn't lay all of his worries to rest. He didn't tell me what they consist of. It is probably just a general uneasiness. He is a rather laid back young man, but whenever this family has been in the midst of a minor crises, he has always lent his strength to us, all of us. He also knows how much his sister loves him, how much she will miss him. He even knows there will be times she is angry with him for not being here when she needs him. He knows we will worry.

We will wonder, we will spend the weeks he is gone always wondering and worrying...is he warm, dry, hungry, tired, lost, safe, sleeping, hiking, making new friends? We will wonder about the astounding beauties that will be filling his eyes as he hikes the wilderness trail. We will wonder, and hope. We will hope to receive the promised weekly phone calls from him. We will hope he does not become injured, or meet a hungry bear. Mostly though, we will hope he finds what he needs within himself. That no matter what, he will feel as if he tried.

It pleases me, to know we have the ability to let the other know how much we will miss each other. It pleases me that he has the maturity to understand that our worries about him are not because we think he cannot do this. He knows we worry because we love him, and want no harm to befall him.

As we talked, I filled my eyes with him, I filled my heart and soul with him. My eyes are the prejudiced eyes of a mother gazing upon her son...but I couldn't help thinking..."He is wonderful, I am so lucky he is my son. I love him so much."

~~~

Personality Quirks

A totally unscientific theory of personality.

~~~

An area of interest to me for most of my adult life, which has filtered through my puny brain in various guises for a long time, is the development of personality. Which has intertwined itself, with my ever constant, sometimes rather narcissistic search for the who of me (or whole me).

This idea of the forming of our personality, is somehow, mixed up with my very inadequate understanding of quantum physics. Crazy combination? Doubtful, since I am far from alone in my attempt to combine the causality of personality with science in the determination of various characteristics (there are many scientists much smarter than I who have done so).

The earliest theories of personality were based on the divine aspect...the Gods made man and gifted him with some of their divine essence, that free will inherent within us all, but man kept defying the Gods......the Gods did not like this one bit, thus they needed a place to hide the essential divine self of each human. Humans are instinctive explorers...they can find anything (was the Gods way of thinking). So, the Gods found a place to hide our essential nature, (our intellectual soul as Plato called it), in a place it would be most difficult for us to find and examine...they hid it within man himself. We humans have been searching for it ever since.

Other theories, such as Darwin's theory, followed along his lines of survival of the fittest, we are born with our personality intact, we have no control over it. The nature side of the argument.

Some theorized that we are solely shaped by our environments, our personalities develop in direct response to the who/what/where/how/when of our lives. The nurture side of the argument.

I am of the Adlerian mind set. The other three theories, are intuitively too simple. At their bare bones definitions, we are either born with our personality wholly formed as in the nature or divine theories, or it is solely shaped by our environment...nature vs. nurture. Each alone just does not seem logical, I have known too many people who's characters have changed over the years of their living, some quite drastically, some would say it was done to survive...but there is change, control, choices made...thus a single influence just doesn't work. Alfred Adler, called it "soft determinism, heredity and environment are modified by personal decisions."

That makes the most sense to me. We are born with basic personality traits (the divine or nature)...but from that point on, the environment in which we live, (what we experience), and, how we emotionalize/intellectualize it, has great influence on how our personalities develop over time. Gender Roles and Birth Order are good predictors of certain personality characteristics, thus environment has to play a role. Yet within us all, is that basic belief that we just are...as we are...deep inside. Think of a newborn baby, is it a "blank slate" waiting to be filled?

The nature side of the equation: Even though there have been no definitive answers (that I know of) found in regard to a genetic predisposition for certain characteristics...I have to question. What about distant family members whom we have never met, yet when we do meet, we find so many similarities between ourselves? With only one of my multitudes of cousins, there is a bond, we have only met twice in our lifetimes, meetings that were 20 years apart, yet, both times we did meet, it was as if we were two halves meant to be together. The connection between us was palpable to all, it was commented upon...oh was it commented upon! We were drawn to each other, so much so, that we would unconsciously find ourselves wandering off alone together to talk. Even though we had a family connection, we were also strangers, yet it never felt that way. We now talk on the phone at least once a year, but each conversation is like it is a continuation of our previous conversation. One could argue against the nature aspect by saying, our parents were raised in the same environment, and much of our western world culture during certain time periods is very much alike, thus it is environment that defines personality, and created our emotional connection...but I think it is more, because I do not have that bond with my other cousins.

More on the nature side of the argument: Are we all not made up of matter? So...broken down to the smallest known unit...or my known unit anyway...we are all made up of quarks. Think of their names, these infinitesimally small quarks: Up, Down, Strange, Charm, Top and Bottom. There are times when those labels feel very descriptive of...me. This is nature, yes? But, quarks observed are affected by the observation itself...they come into existence as an influence of the environment, which in turn influences/changes the environment itself. (thus nurture?)

The nurture side: "Some parents can really fuck up their kids." ( I am paraphrasing a comment made by a friend). If our personalities are inborn and unchangeable, how can parents fuck up their kids? Yet, we all think of it as verity of life.

This is a subject my mind has often noodled around with; How many parents do and can fuck up their children. (one of my main goals as a mother was to have children NOT in therapy by the time they reached the age of 35)

Well before I reached adulthood, I considered myself to be...quite...fucked up. The first time I heard the definition of neurotic, I thought, "Hell that's me!" But then I realized I am not emotionally unstable...although...I do have my moments of extreme emotional unease...I have a complete understanding of why I often behave the way I do/did (the emotional choices). I may act, or have acted in ways I have often found unacceptable, but I don't lose myself for long in the utter neurotic emotionality of it all. When I search for the reasons behind my actions, I have always been able intellectualize them, find the answer. I may not always wish to accept it, but I do know. This seems very practical to me, it fits who I know me to be. I can become lost in the emotional aspects of my life, but, I will eventually change my focus to the causation of the emotion and or subsequent behaviors, and begin to think much more clearly, in a more logical way.

Ever constant flip flopping emotionally, and existing solely on emotionalism, isn't one of my character flaws. But I do find aspects of my personality confounding. My intuitive knowledge of what I know to be a good 'fit' for me (divine and/or nature) is often counterbalanced by what I have learned over the years.

A most influential part of our early development is our environment, and who creates that early environment? Our parents, our families, whether they be biological or not.

As we age and leave home, we then help determine our environment (free will again)...but it is still influenced by our basic personality traits.

By the time I was eight years old, I knew I lived in a very unusual family...we were not like other families I had experienced. There were secrets I wasn't supposed to tell. I had two families, the social one, and the one hidden behind the walls of our home. By the time I was 12, I knew I was different. But I didn't blame my parents. Children are very narcissistic, I was sure it was something about me. In my youth, I always imagined the best part of being an adult, was not being fucked up. As an adult, now well into my 48th year, I still consider myself...fucked up. One theory of youth blown!

In the way I interact within intimate relationships with others, I see many flaws in the portrayal of my personality...these flaws were learned behaviors, a direct consequence of my childhood and early adult environments. My early experiences shaped the way I give and take, shape the way I often move openly forward, then withdraw at a midpoint in a relationship, then move back... a learned fear plays a big role there. Early environmental dysfunction influenced my behavior as a lover, daughter, sister, friend. I keep a distance, then I allow closeness, then pull away again, it takes effort, (my basic nature battling nurturing and free will), for me to continue to be open to others.

Maybe...this search for a whole sane homogenized self...is the need to have all of our quirks bond into one. But, instead, due to the various aspects of our selves and our environments interacting, all those nanoseconds of perceptions and realities that make up our lives, that fill our brains with memories... all of that, has us in a constant state of ionization. We want to bond, but instead we find so much about ourselves that is nonsensical, illogical, separate from who we want to think of as our 'whole self''. The introspective among us humans are often seeking a self that bonds into one serenely peaceful contented happy clump of an entity.

But instead we had parents. And. Parents fuck up.

My parents are only human. Far from perfect. They screwed up big time in some ways. In response to the varying degrees of positive nurturing or lack of they provided me, my basic personality skewed off in different directions. If nurture alone determined personality, my siblings and I would not be such different beings, we shared the same environment. If nature alone were the determining factor...again why we would be so different, as we share the same genes? It was how we intellectualized our environment, it was how our essential selves incorporated what we learned, that helped to form our many differences, which in turn influences the choices we now make.

Thus my environment, my genetic predispositions, and my divine (intellectual) soul shape my personality. As a child I learned a certain mind set that continues to determine my character, my...self. As a young adult this mind set led me to other environments, which led me to form various relationships, who more often than not, were very much like one or both of my parents or siblings. I, in turn, incorporated all of this data into my...self. My developing personality determined the choices I made then, which continued the process of my growth as an adult.

To me personality is a combination of nature and nurture, genetics and environment, and the divine. Because, along with all of the nature/nurture stuff, there is some mystery to us, some entity, some force, some something, within us that is more than flesh, blood, and bone. Our spirits, our souls, that part of ourselves which is a combination of our conscious and unconscious minds, and more...I don't know how to describe it...it just fits...we are each more. We have the divine within us.


In this somewhat narcissistic seeking to accept myself, my many illogical oxymoronic personality quirks, I have to accept all of my quirks...the me-quirks that make up the charge which in turn creates the composite which is me, myself and I. The clumping together of my personality quirks.

Or...

I really am just...fucked up.

Life in a Nut Shell

Weirdly enough, though life has been rather frenetic this week, even overwhelming at times. I find myself feeling mostly...serene.




Yesterday, Miss Daughter received an OSS...which means...OUT OF SCHOOL SUSPENSION for one day. You may ask why...I know I did. She skipped her last hour...18 times! Why did she skip? It seems she is just too stressed out by the end of the day.

Me, being me, my first thought was ..."It's my fault. I left her dad, I upset her world, I tore apart her family!''

Then, I reminded myself, she started having panic attacks the winter of 2006...they stopped when we moved out. So she may not deal with this DIVORCE thing, in the best of ways...but her home life must be somewhat better. I suppose I could just be making an excuse...but I feel better for thinking of it that way.



One of my sister's friends told her I am nuts for walking away from a 27 year marriage.
Why am I nuts?
Simple...it was 27 years!
I still don't get it.




Last night, I spilled wine on my keyboard...some of the keys stick...some I have to hit the caps lock key to make them lower case, and others I have to use the on-screen keyboard...rather confusing.




Today...and yesterday...and the day before...and the day before that...I told myself I was going to get everything on my to-do list done. Did I? Nah, but I tried.




It was 70 degrees here on Monday, or maybe that was Tuesday...I forget...but, it was warm. Today, if the high was 45 I would be surprised. Grey, rainy, cold, icky, but, ya'know what? It's still spring!




I am tired of switching back and forth between keyboard and on-screen keyboard, so this will be typed as the fingers land. Regardless of whether the shift key works or doesn't work, regardless of whether some keys don't work at all.




It's amazing...I really don't spend a lot of time thinking about the question mark...but when you don't have one...it suddenly becomes important.




I have inexplicably developed an unbelievably itchy spot on the top of my left foot...scratching only seems to make it worse.


I stumbled across a blog today, the blogger posted the song, The Rose, sung by Bette Midler, I'd forgotten how much I liked the song.

Some say love is a river that drowns the tender reed
Some say love it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love it is a hunger an endless aching need
I say love it is a flower and you it's only seed

It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance
It's the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken
who cannot seem to give
and the soul afraid of dying
that never learns to live
When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been too long
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed
that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose




In a few weeks, I will be taking a several hours long certification test. To prepare myself for it, I must read approximately 700 pages of information. I have been half-heartedly searching for music to help me focus, to aid me in my concentration. Which is rather strange, this is a recent occurrence in my life, only been about the last 18 months or so that I preferred music to silence...I used to need complete silence when I needed to concentrate deeply...now...I want a rhythmic beat...something soothing...ethereal...but still having a rhythmic beat...not easy to find...at least not for me....if you have any ideas for music, or songs, that follow those guidelines, your ideas are very welcome.




I saw an old woman today. She looked to be about 75 years old. I would have noticed her anyway, as I often spend my time people watching. But, this woman, had me feeling very sad, I wanted to speak with her, I wanted to ask her to join me in a cup of coffee, I wanted to ask her about her life, her health, her family. Not out of any altruistic feeling, not because I thought she looked lonely, but, because she was wearing make-up, lots and lots of make-up. She had her brows colored in with black pencil...at least 1/2 inch thick in width. Her eyeshadow was a brilliant blue, her lips outlined in deep red, and then a wider slash of the same red across her lips. My thought...she has a sight problem, either Macular Degeneration or really, really bad cataracts. But how do you tell someone they look ridiculous? Maybe, she thought she looked beautiful. Or, maybe I am right, and she just needs a really large magnified mirror.



Much has occurred this week, that should leave me feeling melancholy, work stuff....tons and tons of work stuff...so far behind. Home stuff, friend stuff, family stuff...all of it not that pleasant when I allow myself to dwell on it. But, aside from the fact that I have been sleeping poorly, I feel pretty good about my life.


Sometimes, it does help to look behind, to see what is in front.





My life...in a nut shell.

yes, I felt the need for some flowers in my life tonight.

Some Moments are Hard to Find

Because, tonight, it really, really speaks to me.

I lost it all
You got it back
Believed in me
When I gave up on myself again
A sudden rain
Revealed your face
I knew right then
No matter where
I go I'd have your hand to hold
We will sink and
We will swim
Til' the ocean turns to sand
We will laugh
We will cry
Til' there's no more breath inside
Cause we will sink
But we will swim
I was,
A tender reed
Bent in the wind
And then the storm had passed
And you helped me stand upright again
So here we are
Nothing to lose
So take my hand
We'll jump right in
The water's warm
Its time to live
We will sink and
We will swim
Til' the ocean turns to sand
We will laugh
We will cry Til' there's no more breath inside
Cause we will sink
But we will swim
It doesn't rain
For nothing
It will shine
For you
We will sink and
We will swim
Til' the ocean turns to sand
We will laugh
We will cry
Til' there's no more breath inside
Cause we will sink
But we will swim

Plumb

~Sink-n-Swim~

Now go here and enjoy!