One Year

A year ago, I had just put down a beloved dog. My heart had a hole in that had Gunther's name on it. That left me with one dog. That hadn't happened oh since 1999, give or take. I mean really? One dog is just never enough. One dog is just too quiet for my taste. So, in early February I added a new one to the fold. It was an obvious choice. Welcome to the good life Maxx. Maxx was in a foster home in TX. He was a sunbelt boy destined for life in the Midwest.

A year ago, two of my three kiddos lived in the same vicinity. Who knew life would present one with his dream job. He packed bags and moved within weeks. Exactly what a parent wants for their child, even when they prefer having them closer. We celebrate their opportunities and adventures. Even as we weep if life takes them further away from us

A year ago, I struggled with living a quiet solitary life. A year later, it's a norm that is more comfortable. My little world is cozy, safe and lovely. Blessed even. Okay, I'd like more hugs, I miss being someone's partner and more laughter couldn't hurt either. But I'm finding comfort in being present in the present. That's a good thing. 

I don't know what your year ago looked like. Or if the in between was gentle and kind, or grueling and hard. Perhaps some of both. I do know it's the little things that matter. Someone who checks on you daily, sometimes several times daily, or periodically just to make sure you're okay. It's simple pleasures that warm your heart. It's friends, new and old, including you in their life. It's a furry friend or two, or three. It's a Friday night tequila shot to celebrate getting through another week. Even if it's a one-person celebration. It's volunteering in a field you are passionate about. See also, it's better to give than to receive. For in giving, we do receive. It's working towards slowing down enough to be comfortable, just comfortable. It's the belief that we deserve good things, and the faith to know they are coming. It's trusting we are exactly where we are supposed to be. It's the ability to say my mental health matters and yours does to. It is the ability to be self-compassionate. 

So, wherever you are this year, know that you've grown since last year. Also know, you're worth it (whatever it may be), that if one dog is good, two can be better. You have value. You are not alone. You matter. Stick with me, and we'll journey life together. One step at a time. one day at a time, one year at a time.

Stephen 'tWitch" Boss

There is so much media about the loss by suicide of another young celebrity who had it all. I get that. We assume those with golden lives have just that, golden lives. We are appalled it could happen to them. They had it all, the success, the glamor, the family, the career. We don't get it, and we're devastated. I can't speak for Steven 'tWitch" Boss and the choice he made. I can speak for survivors of suicide loss.

It is an unfathomable act with life ending and life changing outcomes. All the circumstances, things, prestige, and glory of their world will not change the damage that is done and the pain it causes the survivors. The loss is tragic. The loss does not end for his loved ones. In fact, it's just beginning. It begins with shock and numbness; it transitions to disbelief and anger. It is a question that racks our brains with no answers. The how could it, the why did it, the what could have changed it. The questions, the self-doubt, the disbelief.

Was it an impulsive moment of despair? Was it planned? Was it someone's fault? Was it a moment of weakness? The bottom line is we do not know what struggles a person faces every day. We don't know when their strength wanes and it all becomes too much. We know help is available, but we will never understand why some people are able to reach out for it and others are not. 

And most, thankfully never experience the stigma that comes with such a loss. It is easy to look from outside and judge, a little self-righteously, while thinking it could never happen to us. It can. Which is frightening in itself. 

It is typical to read the headlines, feel some grief and then go on with life as we know it. Until it is us, and life as we know it is gone. We pray for those who take their life. But we need to pray and support those who carry the weight of that loss. Not just in the days immediately following the death, but in all the days thereafter. We need to make it okay to talk about it, even though we'd prefer to brush it aside, pretend it never happened. That said, I understand that until you walk this path, it's hard to completely understand. Rest assured those walking it don't understand it either. We struggle to talk about it, and we know firsthand. 

I'd like to think it is as simple as checking in on your people, the strong ones and the ones struggling. By all means do that, check often, ask the hard questions. But know that we are often masters of disguise when our mental health is suffering. Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. Normalize mental health, normalize mental awareness and selfcare. Normalize the elimination of stigma and enhance compassion in the aftermath of suicide loss.

Owning it is the first step. Take those steps for yourself, and your loved ones.

Pause, As Needed

This is the time of year when I'd normally sit down and write a Christmas letter. A time to share of my life over the course of the year and wish loved ones well during the holidays. This year I don't have it in me. I'm not sure why, but I can accept this feeling without fighting it.

I did sit down and read letters I wrote over the last several years. I write a good letter. Life has been full, and challenging. Life has taken me on bumpy roads and gravel roads. Through trials and into great blessings. From familiar homes with chosen family, to new homes with new friends and family. There were tales of graduations, job changes, job losses, weddings, moves, trips, sorrow, friendship and laughter. 

There have been constants in these letters. Love of family, faith in times of hardship, great friendships, the desire to foster dogs and help them find their forever home. Mostly because I can't own them all, but I can help a few on their path to a new life. There are stories of my kids. Who now look out for me, much as I looked out for them. There are too many blessings to count.

It's odd to write a Christmas card and not include a letter. Makes me question am I doing enough? Or was I doing too much and in the end, it doesn't matter? Maybe I was one of the few to do this. So many send a photo card, and I always long to know more about their lives. Maybe that's why I wrote, so that I could give them a way to paint a picture of my life. So often we just show a tiny part of our lives, not the whole picture, certainly not the messy parts. FYI, we all have messy parts. Owning them is the first step.

I've decided to go with the flow and give myself permission, in a time of honored traditions, to do something different. Maybe next year I'll share a letter again, time will tell. In this time of Christmas cards, carols, shiny ornaments and colorful lights do what feels right. If you have the energy to do what you always do, then do it. If you chose to scale back, scale back. You do you. I'm not losing a tradition, I'm pausing it. It's okay, we can all pause when we need to. And carry on when we're ready. 

Maybe You've Been There, Hopefully Not

Pinecones, ornaments, Christmas trees. In the past, decorating for the holidays was a magical thing. As a child I'd crawl behind the tree and marvel at the blinking lights, the bubble lights, the tinsel. As a newlywed I decorated with popcorn and gum drops. That was back in the day before themed trees and LED lights. One of my favorite memories is of nursing my babies by the light of the Christmas tree. I still love a macaroni ornament made by a child in grade school.

Over the years I lost the magic. In life and at Christmas. Once lost it's hard to find it again. Maybe you've been there. Hopefully not. It was easier not to revisit the memories. Easier not to feel. The kids weren't there anymore, weren't kids anymore. And frankly, life was hard. Maybe you've been there. Hopefully not.

Even in the hard times we're told to find our gratitude. To count our blessings, to be grateful. There is truth in that. But we also need to honor our other feelings which may be of loss and sadness. Gratitude does not negate grief. It's normal to feel both, somedays one more than the other.

There are those standing alone facing their first loss, those who's loss is on the horizon. Those who's loss has never been open to the light of grace. Those who's loss was years ago, but always close at heart. We do the best we can.

 

Wherever you are this season of life, do what feels comfortable. With twinkling lights, or without. For me, I got a tree this year. Honestly, it's been a minute since I've put one up. If you know me, you know there were tears involved, in addition to macaroni ornaments, ice cycles, blinking lights and pinecones.  I'll sit in the dark and marvel at the blinking lights, missing those times with my babies. I'll honor my blessings and remember the losses I've endured. I'll do the best I can. You do the same.

Slow Down, Look Within

Some days I feel like I get nothing done. And I wonder, am I wasting a day, or am I healing? We all have healing to do. Physical healing, emotional healing, mental healing, occupational healing, faith healing.  

I have a theory on this. Usually, my theories start with owning it is the first step. We take a lot of steps in life. Strong bold steps, tiny hesitant steps, slow regretful steps. Quick deliberate steps. Steps full of sorrow, steps surrounded in joy. Steps I tell you, lots of steps.

I think for years I was unable to slow down enough to do nothing. Stress, expectations, work life, parenting life, marriage life, past trauma's, anxiety. You name it, it was safer to go non-stop than to slow down. Slowing down requires a sense of safety. Don't get me wrong, sometimes life forces us to slow down. We tend to fight that tooth and nail. Slowing down comes with time to feel all the feelings. You know, the ones we often want to push away. 

Maybe my age is slowing me down. Maybe I'm willing to while some time away, to be still and sit with life as I know it. Maybe I'm ok. Maybe life didn't go as I'd hoped. It's been messy and hard. It takes time to push past the grief and stigma to process all of that. This much I know. It's okay to make choices, question your judgement, have regrets, and still know you did the best you could at the time. It's important to own your truths. It's beneficial to share them. It's good to remember we are not alone. And, if we take time to just be and think we've gotten nothing done look within. Something important is happening.

Savoring The Process

I've begun preparations for Thanksgiving even though I'm so not ready for it. November and December are much like July and August. Once they begin, they are gone in the blink of an eye. I'll admit, because owning it is the first step, it leaves me a bit crabby and out of sorts. I miss my summer/fall routine, I miss putzing around in the garden every day, I miss the daylight and lament daylight savings time. I rush to get home and get the dogs walked before I lose the light. I miss my motivation to be any sort of productive after the sun sets.

Back to the preparations. I cubed bread today for homemade stuffing. Yes, I know you can buy dried bread for stuffing. You can buy complete stuffing mixes. No way it could be as good as doing it myself. I've cubed it myself. Stirred it myself, I've lavished it with love. It's different now, it's like bread 2.0. I just can't give up the tradition. There is comfort in the process. It also reminds me of the poignancy of loss. I've done this for years, sometimes without thought. Sometimes with great thought. In the end I'll be glad I made the effort, turning dried bread into something savory, something greater than the sum of its parts. 

The holiday season reminds us not only of good times and family, but of the losses along the way. Even as we get further out from grief events the feelings return and weigh heavy. Perhaps not as much as the first couple years, but we do feel the shadow. Still, we go through the motions as best we can. We buy the turkey; we cube the bread. We look forward to the celebration, and yes, we give thanks.

It may not feel the same as life before loss. It may leave us longing and sad. But it is life as we know it now. Both blessed and broken. So, we move through the rituals. Even the ones we question just a little bit, and then do the way we always have. Knowing, trusting and investing our love in the process. Grateful we have love to give and to receive.

Months of the Year

I am always surprised when all of a sudden, the calendar reads November. I'm not ready for November. I'd like to go back to August and have a do over. I'm not ready for winter, or the holidays. Part of me keeps looking back with longing on so many levels. I need to apply my "what if it's better than you expect" mantra to new months, new directions, new possibilities.

I don't know about you, but I tend to be a creature of habit. My routine is kind of set, my expectations are low, my life is simple. At times it feels full, other times very empty. There are many, many, reasons to be grateful, count blessings and feel joy. And I do. It is also entirely possible to feel all of these things, joy, gratitude, comfort, and still walk with a slightly heavy heart. It's possible to laugh and love the same way. 

I saw someone recently and had the thought, that person is a hot mess. Pretty judgmental of me. We have moments like that. I'd be lying if I said I never had those moments. But then I looked back and realized some folks could look at my life and think it's been a hot mess. And sometimes it has. No one's life goes just as expected. Life is too messy and too blessed for that. For every mess I've found myself in, I've also found blessings I never expected. Lord knows I've made mistakes, I still do. I've made apologies, some of them good apologies, some not. I've learned from them. Sometimes forgiveness is offered, sometimes not. Sometimes forgiving yourself is that most challenging task of all.

Like November, many things have happened I was not ready for. Changes of life, changes of relationships, changes of seasons. Yet here we are. Finding our footing as we move forward. Holding the sadness even as we experience grace and gratitude. Our hearts hold all the feelings. All of them valid, ebbing and flowing, coming and going like the months of the year.

Soft & Gentle

There was a setback, there was a complication, we hit a bump in the road, it didn't go as planned. I shouldn't have done that. That was not what I meant. I never saw that coming. I should have anticipated that. I should have known better. I should have done something, or I shouldn't have done something. What was I thinking. Ever have conversations like these? Many of them happen in our heads, mental conversations where we second guess every little thing. 

I did this earlier this week. I was lamenting how something went. For making a mistake which changed a situation in a split second. I was feeling bad for not managing what happened. I expected to be able to control all the split seconds life throws at me. As if I ever had that much control. That's rather asking a lot, isn't it? Slightly unrealistic and entirely way too harsh. Because frankly, if I can't be soft and gentle with myself, who will be? It has to start here.

So, backing up that bus, how do we do that? How do we shift from criticism to encouragement? From holding unrealistic expectations hostage to accepting the flow of life, learning and self-love. I'd be a genius if I had a sure-fire answer to those questions. I am honestly, a work in progress. Case in point, I almost typed "I am just a work in progress". I erased the "just", I don't have to justify myself that way. I am a work in progress. I may be a slower learner, but I am a learner. I may not even be all that slow. Knowledge comes according to the bigger plan. When the timing is right, and I'm open to it, it all becomes clear. I do hold on to fear longer than necessary. So, I pray for the ability to release fear and increase faith. I accept that I am a human being prone to human moments. I won't get it all right, but I do my best. In fact, if I took time to count, I get a lot right. So, I take a deep breath, wrap myself in faith and forgiveness. Then I move softly forward. Having learned, having loved, having hope.

Owning It On The Roads of Life

There are certain things that make me anxious. Owning it is the first step. Thank God for that phrase, it sure comes in handy. Since I'm owning it, I'll expand upon it. I don't like going places when I don't know where I'm going. I know Google Maps has a better sense of direction than I will ever have, yet driving new places gives me anxiety. Yet, how do I experience new places if I never go? Is it fear of the unknown, fear of being lost, fear of not getting it right. Fear of being alone and lost. When hiking, I want to know where the path comes out before I take it. I'd have never made it as a pioneer. I don't even like walking into bars first, can I just follow someone please? I've had this fear of being alone for a long time, and yet, I've been alone for a very long time. Successfully I might add. My preference is feeling safe. In a place that feels comfortable with a support system I can count on. It kinda rules out much in the way of adventure. No one will ever describe me as adventurous. A little neurotic maybe, occasionally delusional, but not adventurous.

I like routine, routine feels safe. Routine can be lonely though. Since I lead a somewhat solitary life, I need to push myself. Well, I bet we all need to push ourselves. I bet some things make everyone anxious. Or maybe some people never feel anxious. Maybe they've been blessed with courage, curiosity and confidence. Maybe they got my share. It could happen.

I'd feel better if I had a copilot. Sometimes I forget that I do, it's the big guy upstairs. Instead of looking too far down the road, further than my eyes can see. I need to stay in the moment. Trust the process, be open to the plan. Yes, follow the directions, but believe in the outcome. Believe in me. And it wouldn't hurt to breathe along the way. What do you struggle with? And how can you move through it easier? Owning it is the first step, and baby steps follow afterwards. Breathe and believe as you travel the roads of life.

Growing. Blooming, Letting Go

It is that time of year when we lose the gardens we so carefully tended to frost and changing seasons. I've thanked the flowers for keeping me company all summer, and vegetables for providing sustenance physically, spiritually and emotionally. I've picked the last of the tomato's showing color. Every day I walk the garden, water, weed and take pictures for when the snow files.  Yes, somethings grew beautifully, some not so much. I have one plant just setting fruit. No way I'll see that to harvest. Another just started to bloom long after I decided it just wouldn't. I've covered a few plants tonight to protect them from the frost and prolong their beauty just a little bit. 

Isn't that just like life. We plant seeds, some produce, some tease us. Some fail to thrive.  I've taken cuttings to hopefully hold over until next season. I've brought in a few plants that I know will tolerate life indoors until the porch beckons them again. 

A year ago, about this time an old man brought me a wandering Jew plant he potted up because frost was going to kill it. I didn't know the man, so it was random we connected at the shop I work in. And, while I thought it was silly to drag the pot home, and winter the scraggly thing over, I did just that. I planted them in several places, and they absolutely thrived. We should all grow like that. Lesson learned; scraggly things can become a thing of beauty given the chance.

I hope I have bloomed over the season. I hope I've set deep roots, taken nourishment, let go of what didn't serve me well, and grown into something more beautiful. I trust the process. I know some seeds never grow and some grow beyond our wildest dreams. Some volunteer in the least likely of places. Some come back every year, some are one and done. I wish you the same in your seasons of growth. I'll look ahead to the seasons as they unfold. Grateful for all that blooms where it is planted.  

Can You Relate?

You know what I miss? I miss compliments. Affirmation. Feeling valued and attractive. I've kinda given up on makeup and primping. Part of that fell away when masks were a requirement. Part I think is due to experiencing traumatic loss. I've felt invisible. Like no one really sees me. I imagine I've taken on a different role; I feel like I have less value because of being a widow, especially a widow whose spouse chose to die. I know, it's complicated. It's not right. It's jacked up. There is some truth there mixed with the weight of stigma. Part of me gave up on feeling good, on believing in good relationships, on imagining other possibilities. The pandemic didn't help with that. Owning it is the first step. 

I put some makeup on for a photo recently. No one seemed to notice any difference. But when I joked about it a coworker said, but didn't you feel better for doing it? Which got me thinking...did I feel better for doing it? Or did I feel bad for not doing it? I'm not sure I know the answer to either question, but it's definitely food for thought. Sometimes it's easier not to feel. Sometimes we have to dig deep for the feelings.

So, I pause to consider what my window to the world looks like. What I miss, what I value, what I bring to the table. What is real and true. Maybe it's an age thing, this feeling of loss. Maybe it's a multitude of things. Some related, some not related. It's where I am, and I find it confusing. 

Once again, I'm owning hard things. Where do you fall into this picture? What makes you feel seen, valued, attractive? Has it changed over the years? Can you relate?

  

The Tenuous Grasp on Life

Sometimes time flies, sometimes it creeps at a snail's pace. Today marks five years ago that life ended for one, and life changed for many. We can't know for certain what tipped the scales and why death became the decision. We know at the time life was hard, mental and physical health was in jeopardy, and in an instant, there was no going back.

I have pondered a million times the days leading up to that choice. We wonder, we wish, we long for second chances that never came. We wish the prayers we prayed before that had been answered a different way. How does one make that decision and then act upon it? We can't know unless we've walked that path.

There are days we all have a tenuous grasp on life. Yet we find a way to stay the course. We do that with the love of family/friends, faith, with the help of mental health professionals. We do that with therapy, antidepressants and anxiety med's if need be. We do it with tears in our eyes, and fear in our heart. We do it because life is precious and because there is help to be had if we are open to it. In this case all of those things were available, all of them. 

Some people will always look at survivors of suicide loss with judgement which adds to the stigma. Some exclude us, never ever mention that time in life. Personally, it's like my whole married life vanished that day.  People act differently because they don't know what to say or how to say it. In their mind we represent scary things in life. And by distancing from us a false sense of security is had. I can only imagine he felt a pain filled isolation with his struggle, and after his pain ended, his survivor's carry that burden.

I can't change what happened, but I can speak my truth. I can own the pain, the sadness, the sense of loss and the reality that suicide is not just out there. It happens in our families, or our work world, in our schools, in our social networks. People choose to die, and it doesn't have to be this way. 

They say the further out you get it gets easier. I'd say it gets different. There is nothing easy about it. The further out though, the less it gets spoken of. And yet, we never forget. We know the tragedy we are a part of. We know of good memories and bad, the in sickness and in health. We know it didn't have to be this way. So, for those who have lost their battle I speak up. I say there is help available. I say you are not alone. I say it's okay to not be okay. 

Give it UP

Whenever I come up short on something, I have two go to responses. Try harder to make up the deficit.  Or give up something of value to make up the difference. Both of those approaches presume that I have all the power, when in fact I have precious little. Instead of trusting first I attempt to fix the situation. Dang, that is exhausting.

I know I need a different approach. I know what it should be. I need to give it up. Yet, I often forget, or lack faith, or don't want to let go and let God.

Who's with me on this? Time and time again I've seen the bigger plan fall into place. I've seen the blessings that came from traumatic times. I've felt the grace. I've received gifts, made connections, been spared pain, been removed from harm's way, felt the love, shed the tears, shared the laughter, been wrapped in comfort. I've found a way to pay the bills, to care for my needs, to make the changes necessary. Still, I attempt to try my way first. When I get out of my own way miracles happen. 

I do have to laugh at the irony of all this. I know about ask and you shall receive. I do. Nowhere it is written try harder, try longer, go without, you have the power. Not. Definitely not. Yet I falter. Owning it is the first step.

So, for all of us who are floundering the good news is we are not alone. We are in fact a very large group of humans having human moments that we wish we could fix. My challenge, perhaps yours too, is to set it down. Release, trust, take a deep breath and give it up. So that the greater good can come to pass. And it will. It will, it will, I trust it will.

World Suicide Prevention Awareness Day

Nobody pays much attention to days like today. Unless you have experienced a loss to suicide. Such a loss changes you, shifts your path in life, alters your reality. It leaves us perpetually wondering what could have been done differently. What can one person do to promote awareness of mental health issues? How do we reduce the stigma so that those suffering can reach out for help? How do we find ways to connect to those who have experienced a loss?

If only I had all the answers. It's a tough subject. It's hard to own. My guess is many of us have experience with loss by suicide. If not firsthand, then you know of someone who has. What if though, we talked about it openly? What if we acknowledged the date, or even the month of the loss? What if we didn't talk about survivors but talked to them. Awkward?? Uh huh. Sure is. What if instead of saying you are always so strong people understood those grieving don't have a choice. We didn't ask for this, we sure as heck don't want to be here. We may be tenacious, we may be lifted by our faith, we may be relentless in finding new meaning in life. But we don't feel strong, nor does that phrase give comfort.

What we are is broken and finding our footing day in and day out. We are always aware of the events that unfolded. We are not invisible, though it often feels like it. The further out we get doesn't necessarily make it better, just different. Even we find it hard to talk about. So, I totally get why others struggle with it too.

So, I challenge myself, and I challenge you to find the words to talk about mental health and suicide. To know that it's okay to not be okay. That pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. To know that we all need help to get through life. Help comes in many forms and bears no shame. Ask for help, offer help. Say the hard words. Are you okay, how can I help, tell me more. 

Hold My Hand

There are times in life were our world shifts off its axis and we sorely need someone to be by our side. It happens to all of us. Sometimes we are in a position to ask for help. We call a family member, we reach out to a girlfriend, a neighbor, a coworker. Our support system wraps their arms around us, and when the time comes, we return the favor in kind. It's a lifeline, a safety net, a safe port in a storm. Sometimes we need that, sometimes we are that.

Sometimes life places you in the right place at the right time and you are called upon to be that person for a complete stranger. I know, I know, sometimes we look the other way when we see life being messy for someone else. We offer a silent prayer and figure that is good enough. We may pretend we don't see what's going on. We may think, not my problem, not my responsibility. 

If ever there was a place to witness those in need it is a hospital emergency room. Everyone is in their own bubble of pain and misery. You wait, you wonder, you observe. What's their story? What's their issue? You wait and wait and wait. You see the beginning of, or the middle of the story, but rarely the end. 

What if though, you are nudged by some greater power to connect with one of them? Do you respond to the nudge or dismiss it? Responding involves stepping out of your pain to be open to someone else's. It is responding in kindness with no expectations. It is witnessing someone's obvious distress and stepping outside of anonymity to establish connection. It is saying, I see you are alone would you like to sit with us. It is holding the hand of someone scared not knowing the outcome. But trusting you're offering a life preserver of some sort. Somewhere out there is a woman named Janet whose husband Scott suffered a traumatic injury. In the waiting and wondering in a life-or-death situation two people opened arms to her, becoming a surrogate support system. Two people felt the nudge and responded. They stood in the moment to hold another's hand.

May we all be that person. May we fill that need when it arises. We never know when we will be a Janet in her time of need.

National Dog Day

Years ago - 1999 maybe? Life changed and the kids and I needed a big dose of unconditional love. For years I bought into the theory that "we" weren't home enough to have a dog. Here is the first lesson. Only you get to decide what works and doesn't work in your life. 

Next lesson, follow your bliss. I didn't know much about dogs back then. I knew puppies were cute. I now know puppies are work. I didn't know senior dogs bring a humbling sort of love, with gnarly faces and grateful hearts. I didn't know the satisfaction of doing pet therapy visits at the hospital. I didn't know fostering would bring 30+ dogs into my heart and home.

All I knew is a little yellow lab puppy named Abby seemed like a good way to go. So I jumped in with a hopeful heart. I was being led to a better life. That happens after a crises of some sort. If we are open to the pain and the path, good things come our way.

So on National Dog day I give thanks for Abby, Fancy, Mickey, Kobe, Mr. Hanky, Layla, Hobbs, Gunther, Max and Maxx. As well as Jackson, Buddy, Bo, Pete, Sidney, Sophie, Bailey, Jesse, Addy, Cooper, Wallace, Buck, Queenie, JR, Chucker, Lil Bit, Limon, Ryder, Stella, Gunner, Charlie, Cooper, and Lady. Dogs have been very very good to me.

Granted all these lovely pups have walked my path over the course of many years. Not all at once, lol. Because hoarding is frowned upon. In the course of helping with rescue dogs, I have been rescued myself. I have learned, there is always room for one more. Shit happens, as does dog shit. I move fastest when a dog sounds ready to vomit. Healing is a slow beautiful thing. Faith is as nourishing as a dog biscuits. And last but not least, they will always give me more than I can give them. Follow your bliss, the blessings will follow. Hopefully, thankfully, with four paws.

Logic and Emotion

I had a choice to make. I could see it logically. Logically, it was plain and simple. Eventually, I realized I had to wrestle through the emotional side of it. Emotions can weigh so heavy and muddy the water. You know it's muddy. It takes time to figure out why. Some muddy can be felt but not seen.

It boiled down to a situation of either holding on or of letting go. I don't know about you, but letting go takes so much energy. Letting go means I need to trust that my needs will be met even when what worked before changes. It means I have to believe I'm not being left alone. It means I need to be open to a new way to do things, even if, especially if, I loved the way they were done before. 

Emotionally I had to let go of one more piece of a life I loved. It wasn't the thing in question that mattered. It was the heart string that tied it all together. So when I saw the heart string unraveling I knew what muddied the water. And yes, I cried. For changes I never asked for. For decisions I had no say in. For knowing the logical thing to do even when emotionally it hurt to do so. There are many moments in life that fit that equation.

Letting go is hard no matter how you approach it. Emotions are hard until you feel and release them. Sometimes they are hard even after you do. That's ok. That's life. In a way it's progress. Something is released, so something new can enter. I don't know what the new is or how it will look......I just have to have faith in the process.

Voices That Repeat Themselves

Who knew about wireless smoke detectors with voices? Voices??? What the hell. Because seriously, a low battery chirp is not enough??  Now, in all fairness we likely all have voices we hear. Real ones, imaginary ones, voices in our head of worry and stress. Voices that alert us to fear, hopefully voices that soothe our fears. Silent voices that move us in the directions we need to go, but don't even realize it.

However, the voice from the wireless smoke detector at the top of the cathedral ceiling freaked the hell out of me. First because I didn't know it had that capability. A booming voice seeming out of no where that at first was impossible to understand. Followed by intermittent chirping and the search for which of six smoke detectors had the issue. No, I didn't place six detectors in the house, they came with the house. Six seems excessive for the size of the home. I pulled the offending detector and couldn't figure out how to open the back to get the batteries out. So as I was on my way out, I deposited it in the garage to muffle the chirping. Putting things that irritate us away from sight/sound only delays the inevitable. We have to deal, eventually, with the chirps in our life.

Imagine my surprise in the middle of the night when the voice from above belted out again. By then my kneejerk What The Hell response was bordering on a WTF response, except I try to keep that verbage out of my vocabulary. Three hours later it repeated itself. I finally understood, after my heart started beating again, "batteries low - utility room". Pretty sure the first two times it was just clearing its throat to increase its diction. 

Now, the voice from above was more distressing to me than the chirping was to the dogs. Either way, we were called multiple times to tend to something needing attention. Isn't that just like life? Sometimes we get the message from above the first time. Sometimes we need a voice that repeat repeats itself. In all cases we are called to respond. We need to heed the call and do just that. 

Paths

Eleven years ago a couple gathered their friends, and family to celebrate beginning a life together. Many couples may have done the exact same thing. They looked forward with hope, faith, and with anyone's guess on how life will play out. They may have been fully committed. Or deep down only partially committed, but 100% hopeful. Either way they turned down a path to build a life together. Kudos to those still walking that path.

Paths are rarely easy, hardly ever straightforward, often grueling, although sometimes they meander through soft spots and lovely places. There are crossroads to be navigated, choices to be made, growth to be experienced.

I firmly believe in committed relationships and marriage. I have friends celebrating fifty years together, and others just beginning. No one knows how those journeys will unfold. People change, plans change, priorities shift, growth happens, sometimes illness changes the trajectory of life. 

I struggle with feeling like I failed in marriage. Did I make mistakes, uh huh. Did I communicate as well as I needed to, nope. Owning it is the first step. Was I committed, yup, twice. Did I choose to grow? Yes, in retrospect, not as quickly as I should have, but definitely according to the bigger plan. Funny how growth takes as long as it takes when you are willing. And it takes forever when you are not.

Life does not go as planned. I am often surprised at how much better it goes than anticipated. All the while grieving how much worse it went than expected. We can feel multiple things at the same time. 

I would not be where I am without those commitments. So many good things came from them.They came in the form of children, friends, life experiences, growth, and yes, regret and sorrow. Life is like that. We chose to set out on a path full of faith and hope. Along the way, in all the circumstances, we are blessed. Just not in ways we expect.

Six Packets of Sugar

There is always that person we encounter that is difficult to like. Try as we might they are irritatingly up in our business, or judgemental, cranky, or know it all's. Or they ignore us, act like we don't exist, cut us out of their lives. They are hard to be around, and I suspect life in general is hard for them. Back up the bus, life in general is hard.

Funny thing is we are those very same people. Not all the time, but some of the time. Because we are human beings, prone to human moments, human error and struggling just to be. The saying we are all half jerk, half jewel comes to mind.

Sometimes we have to look past the our judgements and recognize they struggle just like we do. They hurt just like we do. They are doing the best they can, just like we are. And when we get out of our own way, we find ways to connect with them.

Today, it was the simple act of treating someone to a cup of coffee. Why? Because we recognized their struggle and wanted to acknowledge it in some tiny way. Does a cup of coffee hold that much power? Surprisingly, yes it does. Plus, we learned that this person who always gets a McDonald's black coffee with six sugars in it, would rather have a fancy frappuccino with whipped cream on top. We saw a different side of this person, by offering a cup of compassion. When the opportunity presents itself, recognize the need, reach out in kindness, and know whipped cream trumps six packets of sugar any day. One is more affordable, but the sweetness of the other lasts forever. 

 

Belonging

Belonging. Be longing. Longing.

We can read those words so many ways, and feel them very differently. I feel myself longing to belong. To be a part of something larger than myself. To be connected, to feel like a valued/included part of family/community. 

Honestly, I've struggled with feeling connected. Why you might ask? Well, I ask myself the same thing. Part of it is trust, part is life history. Promises made and not kept, past trauma, losses. Some of our greatest lessons come from such situations. Lessons that are hard to learn, slow in evolving, that are quite frankly life changing. 

I thought being geographically close would enhance feeling connected. Thing is, connection is more of an action, than a location. It's an investment of time and interest, concern and communication. It's being seen, heard and understood. It's being vulnerable and compassionate. It's inclusion. It's sharing the big and little things of life. It's saying I'm leaving now or I got there safely. It's how was your day. How much rain did you get? It's how did you sleep or what did you eat? It's what do you need. It's you're not alone. It's how was your weekend? It's how was today for you. It's 'I care" manifested in action.

Some people experienced this from birth, some lack solid role models and have to grow into it. We know growth is hard. If it was easy how would we learn from it? The struggle is wanting to belong, but hesitating to believe we deserve it. It is staying in the dysfunction, because that is the function you know. It's having to push past the discomfort to find the comfort. It's hard damn it.

Do you feel like you belong? Or do you wrestle with that? Is that a big question or what? Or, do you feel like you don't belong and could care less. Maybe in some ways that's healthy, in others not so much. We need each other. We need support. We need to be able to lean on others, and have others lean on us. Life is hard enough without feeling alone. I hope you don't, and if you do, please reach out. 

Hard Questions, No Easy Answers

I'm going to ask a hard question. When was the last time you felt attractive? I know, it's an odd question. But when was it? It's been a while for me. I'm not sure why.

Also, I can tell you on any given day I feel somewhat invisible. I have some moments I feel inept. We all do. I had a experience last week where I felt stupid, because I couldn't get something right. I voiced that and it was suggested I should stop having a pity party. I took some time to analyze the way I was judged and the way I was feeling.  Was I expressing self pity? No. I was, probably in a sarcastic manner, expressing that I was feeling stupid for not being able to do what should have been an easy task. Why is it sometimes our ability falls neatly into place and other times we flounder? When that happens negative self talk throws me for a loop. In that case, how I felt and how I was perceived were vastly different. I needed some self acceptance, some encouragement. A little less judgement from the peanut gallery wouldn't have hurt either.

So do I feel invisible because I don't feel heard? Because of stigma? It is an age thing, a status thing? Do I feel invisible because I've lost some of who I am and the confidence that goes with it? Is it because I feel judged, and judge myself as well? Has some sense, or innocence, been taken from me, and how do I get that back? And oh yes, how does one feel attractive?

Holy crap, I'm asking a lot of hard questions with no easy answers. Maybe I need some R&R, a romcom, a glass of wine and an attitude adjustment. Or a psych eval, I'm not sure which or in what order. 

No, this is not a pity party or a lamentation. This is life. It is picking up broken pieces and building a new whole. We've all been shattered at some point in time. If we haven't we will be. We all have the desire to be seen and heard. The need to be valued. The deep need for inclusion and affirmation. The personal need to feel all our feelings including feeling attractive. Pretty sure feeling attractive is an inside job. Although affirmation from the outside helps. How do I get to that? How do I become present and visible, heard, valued and yes, feel attractive. I know, I know....hard questions. I'll ponder them if you will. 

Looking Back, Looking Forward, Life In The Middle

I was looking at journal entries from two years ago. From when I moved from the country to the city. Isn't it wonderful we have no idea how hard something is going to be when we undertake it? Whoever said ignorance is bliss was a freaking genius. I still sometimes look longingly back. I still sometimes look back in horror. I still look back with gratitude. 

Everyday I look at a little note on my mirror that says "what if it's better than you expect". There may be some dark humor in that if your expectations are non-existent. Two years ago I couldn't conceive of looking forward with that attitude. Two years ago everything was hard. Did I think of going back, at times I seriously did. Was it really an option, nope. Did I think of giving up, giving in? No, I did not. Did I wonder where I belonged, would it ever feel like home, would life ever not be hard, was it all a mistake? Heck yes. Show of hands for all of us who've been in that position. 

I wish I could have done a fast forward to here and now. Except growth doesn't come fast, and sometimes you can't tell if you're moving forward. In between back there, and up ahead, is life in the middle.

Life in the middle is a 100% less stressful. Counting that as a win. Life in the middle has settled allowing me to settle in. Life in the middle will always include regrets. Life in the middle is different than I imagined, not exactly what I expected. Some of my expectations were hopeful but not realistic. Again, show of hands if you've shared this experience. Life in the middle gives me pause to realize how many prayers have been answered on my journey. How much has evolved better than I expected. 

Life in the middle is a reflection of my past, my choices, my faith. I'm not where I was, I'm not where I'm going. Whatever you're in the middle of, and I know, we're all in the middle of something.... What if it's better than you expect?

 

3 days 3 weeks 3 months

They say in animal rescue when a new dog comes into your home there is a 3 day 3 week 3 month rule. The first 3 days they are fearful and uncertain, their whole life has changed. They don't know what to expect, it's stressful. At three weeks they are settling in, learning the routine, realizing this may be a permanent place for them, they begin to show their true self. At three months they are comfortable in their new home, they are building trust, and have a sense of security. I'm pretty sure people go through phases like this when circumstances change. The ratio of 3-3-3 is not hard and fast. It varies by situation. 

Even with animals the ratio is an average. We know life doesn't unfold on a set timetable. There are highs, lows, periods of waiting that seem unending. There are stages where your whole world is uprooted, your safety feels shattered, your sense of self lost along with your ability to hope. There are seasons where things settle again and you regain your footing. There are seasons of joy and contentment.

It's okay to take things at your own pace and know the ratio is merely a suggestion. Grief is like that, people who haven't had great losses, may not understand it's a lifelong process. Some people chose to bravely move through the process as best they can. Taking two steps forward, and one step back as needed. Others pause temporarily as they gain strength. Some never recover.

It is a gift to give yourself permission to take your time. Here might not be comfortable, but I'll sit with the icky's until growth moves me along. Here may not be where I want to be, but I won't always be here. Here may be miles away from what was, and miles away from what is meant to be.

Now I'll be the first to say I'd prefer to skip right to the good stuff. Who wouldn't rather bloom without the investment of growing? Can we cut right to dessert (have seconds on it) and pass up our veggies? Can we have the perfect relationship, with ourselves and others, without being present, intentional, invested? Can we bypass the 40 hour work week and zip straight to payday? Yes, yes please! However,under the category of Life Doesn't Work That Way for $200, the answer is nice try, but no such luck.

Your 3 days 3 weeks 3 months, whatever your timetable looks, like is merely a suggestion. The growth, experience, end result is individual and graced in ways we cannot begin to fathom. Divinely lead by a bigger plan.Wrestling with it, pushing it to conform to expectation doesn't work. Like stuffing a big object into a little box. Should fit, might fit, ain't ever gonna fit. 

Give yourself time to evolve. Find some laughter along the way. Trust that all will be well. Know you are not alone. Celebrate the wins however long they take. They are there, some tiny, some huge, some apparent only to you. 

Comfort

What gives you comfort? Are we as good at identifying what gives us comfort as we are identifying what doesn't? Granted it is a sifting through of experiences, an evolution of time, growth, loss and revelation that lands us there. Sometimes it takes a large amount of discomfort to find our comfort.

Perhaps our comfort level is tied to early childhood experiences. Perhaps it is related to what we are told to do, to be, not to do, or should do to meet expectations. As children comfort should be as available as air to breathe, food on the table, safe boundaries, encouragement and acceptance. Perhaps it is tied to self understanding, personal responsibility and self care. It is owning what works and doesn't work for us. 

So the challenge, for me, and you is to identify and embrace what gives you comfort. Internally and externally. Maybe this is part of why people lose their way in life. They think it's out there, they're entitled, it comes without a price or investment, it should just be given to them. Happiness is an inside job, so is comfort.

I know it may take years to define it, and it changes along the way. We must find it for ourselves. Others can't do that for us. Sure we try to emulate what ours looks like by what it looks like for others. Thinking someone else's looks like they have more, better. Their comfort, experiences, collections of things, or definitions will not fill our individual needs. 

How often do we think, I would be happy if. If I had, this that or the other. If life wasn't so hard, if there weren't struggles, angst and challenges. If so and so would just grow up, do, say, or act differently. If life was fair. If we won the lottery, if our Fairy God Mother would sprinkle happy dust all over us. If, if, if.

Hard questions. Evolving answers. Individual experiences. But my wish is this. That we can scale down the big picture, silence the noise, release the outside expectations. What brings you comfort. Is it simple pleasures? Genuine, consistent connections. It maybe something out there, it may be something small and meaningful right here. It will be different for you than it is for me. Do not dismiss what works for you by seeing what works for others. We are similar, but different. Piece together a life that gives you comfort. Trust the journey, even when we're not sure we understand it or even like it. We are led right where we need to be, with gifts to give, grace to extend and comfort to enjoy.

He Is Risen

It is a day to revel, ponder, grieve, embrace and celebrate that He Is Risen. Most of us connect this amazing verse to our faith life. Some may not have a faith base and wonder at the meaning. Even with a strong faith base we try to wrap our heads around it.

Rising is something bread does. It's something we do each morning God willing. It's a process from sitting to standing. It's stepping up to a challenge. It's what hope does. It lifts us from one place to another, spiritually, metaphorically. Rising is any forward movement towards engaging in life and the blessings it brings us.

It's not a holiday for those who've lost a loved one without a grief wave. The memory of those who gave up on life, who chose not to rise. Or who's illness, or other tragedy, took away their ability to rise. For days the loss may be somewhat in the shadows, only to rise into our hearts again on a holiday, anniversary or a random Tuesday for no specific reason. 

Does it mean we don't celebrate today, or any other day? Nope. We have equal measures of joy and sorrow. Well, hopefully equal measures. Sometimes it takes a while to get to that point. Balance is, if nothing else, subject to change. A goal, not a destination as we grow and change.

So may you rise today. May you grasp life with both hands and embrace it. May you grasp another's hand if your personal grip feels tenuous. Or if someone you know is faltering reach for theirs. May you ask for help when you need it, feeling no shame. May you hold fast knowing it may be hard, but you are not alone and definitely equal to the task.

May you rise as best you are able in faith, confidence and joy. He Is Risen, so we can too. 

Simple Pleasures

What do you like? What gives you joy? What does it take to feel all the feels of these things? Seems like an silly topic, right? Unless, somewhere in life it wasn't safe to feel your feelings. The sad ones, the happy ones, the painful ones, the scary ones. It's possible to go through life without feeling, exhausting, but possible. It's not possible to really live life without feeling. 

I made a list of things I wanted to do this week that give me joy. That made my heart smile, produced laughter and enhanced life in general. One might think making such a list would be easy. For some people no doubt it is. For others it would be impossible. For me, a challenge, but doable. Here is the tricky part, doing them and feeling them. 

I grew up worrying if there was going to be enough, would I be enough. Would I get it right. Imagine the emotional weight of feeling your worth is based on getting everything right? That's heavy right, and made it hard to feel.

I'm keeping my list simple. Pizza & a movie night. I rarely get carry out, so that part was a treat. Easy to accomplish, done and done. Next up, time with friends. Even better entertaining friends which gave me the chance to cook. Then having a friend cook for me. I love that too. Having the chance to walk dogs with my son was an unexpected bonus. Plus we explored a path I'd been wanted to take but hadn't because my sense of direction is under developed. That's the polite way to say never ask me for directions. It was a great hike with awesome company and I learned a new route. Planting pansies is on the list. Did that today. I do love pansies and it reminds me summer gardening is not far away. Writing is on my list, both in my blog (tada!) and in my journal. A random act of kindness is on the list. Trusting an random opportunity will present itself.

These are simple things, simple pleasures. I should not take them for granted and I need to feel all the feels. I have to consciously feel all the feels. Too often we go through the motions without feeling the emotions.

Therein lies a challenge for all of us. Maybe you're an expert at this, maybe you're a novice. Identify some simple pleasures, partake in them, be open to feeling them. You might just find yourself filled with gratitude, openly experiencing life and doing the happy dance. Go for it, feel it, celebrate it. 

The Good Stuff

I have a week off. For a person who isn't always comfortable with that much alone time, it's a challenge. Let me first say, I am more content and relaxed about time spent at home with just the dogs and I. I can honor what feels right and what doesn't. That also said, I tend to stick to a routine which could use some shaking up once in a while. I am a creature of habit. I'm wondering if too much routine is based on the world being a scary place and the need to feel safe in my little bubble.

I read a quote from the APA that stated "the level of stress resulting from the suicide of a loved one is ranked as catastrophic-equivalent to that of a concentration camp experience". That stress does not completely go away, even as we get further out from it. Because of that I cling to what feels safe and struggle with reaching out to other life opportunities. I stick to the basics, have fear of the unknown, and neglect indulging in simple pleasures. Owning it is the first step.

The dogs are my entertainment, my daily source of companionship and physical touch. Plus, they love me unconditionally. They give me a safe place to invest myself in. In return, they are my everything and their needs come first. Their safety is paramount.

So my challenge this week is to step out of my routine and invite some joy, some small indulgences in my life. Part of the challenge is defining what that looks like, part is following through on them.

Of course I share this, because I figure if I struggle with something, I'm pretty sure I'm not alone. Circumstances may be different, but the struggle is similar. See also, owning it is the first step. After owning it, let's challenge it's reality, expand it's horizons and trust we are growing just as we are meant to be. Let's move faith forward into expanding our little world. By baby steps, or by leaps and bounds. Finding some joy in the process, trusting we are safe, and opening our hearts to more of the good stuff.

Small World, Big World?

How big is your world? I've been pondering that. Feeling that my world is small. Limited. Often lonely. I find myself comparing my life to others. Okay, I'll own it, I compare it to couples sometimes. I compare it to young adults with big social circles. I compare it to young marrieds who seem to have it all. I look at the people who seem to have golden lives with no struggles. I compare it to people with dual high dollar incomes and opportunities to travel. I compare mine to other peoples life persona's. Because there is no way to know their life reality.

I need to rein those comparisons in. I don't know their reality. Other than it's a really pretty picture from the outside. I do know reality changes over the years. I know I need to make adjustments for "perfect" world dreams and real life normalcy. In the middle of all this is my comfort zone. My faith base, my work and home responsibilities. 

I find myself, or recognize my self introversion. I find I long for connection and social activity, and also feel anxiety in partaking in it. Sometimes safe is home on the sofa with the dogs. Okay, maybe most times. Other times I want to be out there experiencing new things, meeting new people. Finding the balance between one and the other is the rub.

Maybe those with big busy worlds long for smaller slower paced worlds. Maybe they long for quiet time. Just as I long for conversation and the ability to be comfortable sharing my real self. Not just the self who works 40 hours a week meeting work expectations. Life has been hard, and as I've pulled back to protect myself from being vulnerable, being hurt, I've lost confidence and trust. Or, the flip side, is maybe this is the time to really learn to trust myself, be comfortable being myself. Love myself. 

Perhaps a small world is not a bad thing. Maybe people with small worlds can make big differences. Just because life as I once knew it is over, it doesn't mean life in general is over. Life each day is new and different. I need to accept my place in it. I need to learn to feel safe in it. By both stretching myself, and by honoring what I know is true for me. 

Some people would love a small world with all the comforts I enjoy. I need to be one of them. What about you? Big world? Small world? Are you comfortable? Do you need to grow your reality, honor it, or embrace it?

No regret....

They say you can't go forward in life by continuing to look in the rear view mirror. Life is ahead of us not behind. I can't argue with that logic, but I also believe the lessons from the life behind us represent growth opportunities and experiences that take time to process and fully understand. If only learning was instantaneous. Instead it is an introspective process. Sometimes we aren't ready to embrace the lesson until we get further down the road.

Sometimes we make decisions assuming others are the problem without understanding how we influenced it. Sometimes we are spot on with our choices, based either on sound knowledge or trusting our intuition. Sometimes those choices which seem self protective are also self prohibitive with long term losses. They can be both. Life is complicated.

Things/decisions I do not regret. Saying yes to dogs. Thirty years ago I lived under the precept that "we weren't home enough to have a dog". So grateful, as are the dogs I've had the opportunity to love and foster, that I said wait, What? I can make room in my life for dogs. And, I did it in a big way.

I do not regret saying yes to marriage, even though twice it didn't pan out as I hoped and dreamed. Do I believe in it? Yes. Do I know, in spite of human mistakes, that I gave my all. Yes I do. Did it mess with my head, yup. Were they both huge losses, enormously. However, they were not without gifts and graces too many to number.

Do I regret or doubt that all this was divinely led? Not even a little. I am a far cry from practicing the faith I grew up with. Still I Believe. My faith has evolved with my life as it plays out. I know the big guy upstairs holds my hand daily. Just as I know he laughs at my Nancy-isms and blonde moments, leads me gently as I move through my days. Keeping me on the path even though my propensity to wander is strong. Hey girl, c'mon back, must be whispered in my ear daily.

Do I regret taking all this, this life that has been a lot, and sharing it with whoever needs it? Not even. I hope these words find their way to hearts hurting and healing. To hearts needing encouragement. To hearts worrying. To hearts open to being washed in grace. To hearts barely cracking the door to faith and grace. To hearts unsure they can go on. Trust me, we need you. My path is different than yours. But some life lessons transfer like credit from one school of life to another. Carry on, and know you are not alone.

Mindfully, Gently, Lovingly

I don't know about you, but I would guess some of us are more self-critical, than we are self-encouraging. For myself, I can say yes I am to the former, and no I'm not to the latter. For me, part of that is the underlying fear of not getting "it" right. The "it" can be anything. I grew up walking on egg shells to keep the peace. Peace that I was not responsible for. In between keeping the peace I did my best to be "invisible". Or as invisible as possible. Getting "it" right was paramount. I tried and tried, and couldn't keep the peace because it was beyond my control. Peace keeping and closing your self off to the point of invisibility is a heavy, heavy burden to carry. Releasing that weight is work in progress.

There are distinct moments in my life that the feeling of not getting "it" right was absolutely soul crushing. I remember leaving an attorney's office over 20 years ago thinking I had proof that I was dumb as dirt. Not because I was, but because legal matters are complicated and I don't have legal knowledge. My attorney did his job by law, by procedure, but did not connect with compassion. If I could go back in time, I'd find someone who would speak to me, not down to me. I could have also found someone I could trust that pain with to help me process it. At the time I was unable to advocate for myself, and no one advocated for me. I can see it in a different light now.

Other such moments occurred as I grew emotionally and set firm boundaries. It's hard to learn things that should have been taught so long ago. Hard, but not impossible. As I was growing and learning about how I was willing to live life, what I could carry, what I couldn't, my spouse made the choice to give up on life. I think my first words were, and will always be, it didn't have to be this way. Truth, it didn't have to be this way. He was unable/unwilling to advocate for himself, and though I tried, I couldn't do it for him. No more than I could keep the peace. Or stay invisible. It was simply not within my capacity. It didn't have to be this way, and I was unable to prevent it.

The worry of not getting "it" right causes me anxiety. It also gives me a multitude of opportunities to be less self critical and more self loving. I have to be mindful of it, and when my mind is full, I sometimes forget. I heard someone at work say they were terrible at their job. Are they? Nope, but in their head a voice said they didn't get "it" right so they must be terrible.

What does your inner voice say? What does it say when you are sad. What does it say when you are struggling? What does it say when you look in the mirror? What does it say if you have a human moment and don't get "it" right? What does it say when you do great? What does it say when you go to bed at night? How can we be more mindful, more gentle, more accepting of all the parts of ourselves. The parts that get it right and the parts that momentarily don't. How do we extend this grace to ourselves, and to others? I think we do that by listening, by nurturing, and by advocating for ourselves. Some days we will get it right. The other days we embrace as an opportunity to begin again, mindfully, gently, lovingly.

Life As We Know It

Whose life has ever really taken them precisely where they thought they would go? There must be some, who had a plan, pursued it, saw it come to fruition and are living it today. I love it if you are living that dream. I'm guessing, for the rest of us, we had a plan and somewhere along the way all the pieces were tossed like confetti to be reassembled into what was not at all our imagined life plan.

In high school I wasn't sure what I wanted to do after graduation, only that after that I wanted to be a wife and mother. The mother part worked out delightfully, the marriage part not so well. Yet, if not for my marriages, I would have missed so many amazing experiences, beautiful friendships and yes, heartache. Even what feels like failure holds blessings that are case sensitive. Can't have one without the other. 

I still wonder if I am on the right path in life. Is work and solitary life all there is? How do I find peace with that? Am I pushing myself enough to be social? How do I build connections and maintain them. Am I accepting life as it is, but never wanted, and finding joy in it?

Don't get me wrong, I love my job, my kids are terrific, I've been blessed with good neighbors where ever I've lived, I have a warm and lovely home. Yummy food in the fridge and wine in the rack. I have treasured friends. And.... I will always carry heartache because one of the cards I drew in life was being a survivor of suicide loss. No one includes that one when they plan out their "perfect" life. Others have struggles they never included in their life plan, horrible losses, great disappointments, health issues, loss of faith, loss of love. One struggle does not trump another, they all change the trajectory of our life as we dreamed it.

How then to keep the faith when life turns out so vastly different? If I had all the answers I would have no reason to blog. So the good news is I have reason to share my life, my observations, my challenges. The bad news is I have reason to share my life, my observations, my challenges. Gotta love the irony of that.

So I'll ask you the same questions that I ask myself. Self, where are you in life? Can you, have you, taken the mix of cards you've been dealt and found some beauty, some peace, some grace in them. Are you doing enough, grateful enough, giving of your gifts enough, resting enough, taking time to heal enough? Heck, are you laughing enough, connecting enough, following your bliss enough? What exactly is your bliss and can google maps help find it? All of which is a work in progress, not a one and done checklist.

Where we thought we'd be in life and where we are probably don't match. Not necessarily a bad thing. The bigger plan in life has blessings we couldn't even imagine. It can all change in a minute. It has, it does. Look for the grace. Be open to the growth.

I Appreciate You

I love that people have added this phrase to their vocabulary. Yes, it's another way to say thank you, for being you. I hope as we use it more frequently we don't forget the depth of feeling it conveys. You might think I'm over thinking this, or picking it apart. Maybe I am. There are several important pieces to this.

Pieces, you say? Uh huh. 

For some it's easy to say I appreciate you. Some say it with deep feeling, some without much thought. For some it's hard to hear I appreciate you. We question whether we actually deserve it, what we've done to deserve it. That piece of us sometimes feels small and insignificant. Like we run under the radar of value and worth. 

I had a day recently where extreme fatigue and stress made me feel, well, to be perfect honest stupid. Like I couldn't get one single thing right, like all my smarts leaked out overnight and I woke up stupid. I even apologized for waking up stupid. In reality I was just stupid tired. I could not identify the pieces that were amiss. I lacked the mental clarity to recognize what was wrong. I was on the struggle bus and had no grace to extend to myself. I was in pieces. In retrospect, I can appreciate that. It was a shitty place to be, but I'm picking up the pieces and making something beautiful of them.

See sometimes what is beautiful is right in front of us and we can't see it. Other times we have to take the pieces and re-purpose them in into something new. Something better. The old value, the old pieces are there, but have been assembled into a piece that is lovely in a new away. There is much to be appreciated in this.

In my solitary life I forget that I may influence others. I do influence others. There I said it. Maybe I appreciate you isn't just something we say to others. Maybe we need to say it to ourselves. Self I appreciate you. Self you have value. Self pick up the pieces and make something beautiful of them. 

 

Space, Grace and Consistency

I've been pondering moments when the whole life as you know it changes. It happens in many ways.  Olympians who's goals are dashed in a nanosecond. Years of training, and yes, confidence shaken to the core. Their whole identity loses its sense of equilibrium. Another case, a rescue dog who moves from the comfort of a foster home to a forever home. Twice in the course of two months everything Maxx knew about how his world operated changed. Granted each time it changed for the better. People who are in the process of a divorce they never saw coming. Unexpected job losses. Traumatic losses. Health issues. All that you know changes in an instant. 

These are moments that undermine our sense of safety and challenge our faith. Sometimes we keep moving forward our head in a fog. Sometimes we are stunned and unable to focus. Other times we stuff all that's scary way down deep inside. That is a full set of baggage to carry. We will get to the point we can no longer manage it.

I'm helping a newly adopted dog settle into his forever home. My home. In the course of that, his world changed, my world changed and the status quo of the current canine resident changed. It is all good and we will get through it. We all need space, grace and consistency to adjust. A sense of humor is necessary. Treats, encouraging words, and an adult beverage (for the human) helps to. It also helps to own it pushes us to step out of what we knew, whether it was comfortable or not, and grow.

Enter space, grace and consistency. Words to say to yourself. Self? I love you enough to grant you space, grace and consistency. Words to say, or offer prayerfully to others, I grant you space, grace and consistency. Space to adjust, grace to accept what's different, and consistency to establish new foundations. Our worlds change....they do. What looks like a shit show offers opportunities we are presently unable to imagine. 

It is okay, even amid change, to look faith forward. Loss of a sense of self, of our identity, is an frightening amazing growth opportunity. It's scary, it dumps boat loads of feelings we need to wade through. It can present gifts untold. Miracles if you will. Little tiny miracles, big gigantic miracles. Miracles you see in retrospect. So as you transition, and you will....it's normal to stress, but important to breathe through it. To honor the past, but look forward to where our new life is. And also to say Self here, let's have a little treat to celebrate our progress. Celebrate those little and big steps of progress. The four footed ones, and the two footed ones. It's necessary to celebrate little victories as we embrace life adjustments.

Stigma, let's talk about it.

I want to talk about stigma.....again. Because I continue to experience it, will probably always experience it. I don't like it but maybe talking about stigma will reduce it.

People who have experienced a traumatic loss are treated differently. Sometimes deliberately, sometimes very subtly. People don't look at us the same, partly because of fear, partly from judgement. Heck, maybe you can tell me why people look at us differently. My guess is partly because they just don't quite know what to do with us. We are proof that life can get messy, that tragedy happens. That, yes, it can happen to anyone. 

Case in point, one person I know never hesitates to say, oh that person's spouse, or child or whoever died by suicide. Now, I don't know the person being referenced. I don't need the weight of their pain on top of my own. I don't want to know their story from someone else. Tragic stories are personal. Not everyone needs the details. Especially in third person. Do I believe our stories need to be shared, absolutely. But, we get to choose who we share with and what we share. Sadly, others feel the need to do that for us. 

I can mostly tell when my story has preceded me. Because no one asks me personal questions. This might be a mixed blessing. Where did you grow up is a safe question. How is work is another. How are your kids is an easy one. It's an odd sort of isolation that is completely unnecessary. 

I try not to be defined by my loss. Some days I win that battle, other times not so much. I know too, that others define me, consciously or unconsciously. They define me by telling my story like it is theirs to tell. People suggest that someone divorcing will date again and try to find someone to set them up with. People will ask about ex-spouse/partner. Loss of a spouse by divorce is acceptable and life goes on. Loss of a relationship by suicide breeds stigma. Like the surviving person is a little sketchy somehow. Like if we'd tried hard enough we could have changed the outcome. Like we aren't quite acceptable somehow because of how life played out. Not true. I know it's not true. Others, influenced by stigma, look at people like me with some hesitancy, consciously or unconsciously. 

Let me say this is not always the case. Just as I can say, sometimes it is. All I ask is that people find compassion and inclusion for those who have suffered from a decision that was not their own. We are people first, not our tragedy first. We deserve to be talked to, not talked about. We long to feel seen, not feel invisible. We long to be included, not excluded because it might feel awkward. We are building a new life, a new sense of self, a new reality. That in itself is a challenge. We can do without the added stigma. 

Good Things, Pieced and Patched

Am I holding on when I should be letting go? Does anxiety keep me from fully living? Is my world deliberately small when it could be infinitely larger? Why do some people have tons of friends and I have a small, but exceedingly wonderful tribe? Do I patch holes on an unfinished patchwork quilt that got nibbled on? Or do I pitch it because it hasn't seen the light of day for years and just move on? Can you go back and start over? Can you trust more and worry less? How do you learn to dream and dream big? Can I set a record for the most questions in the first paragraph of a blog? 

So many questions.....  With answers as follows. Yes, Yes, Yes, and yes because some are more extroverted and others introverted. Probably. Probably not. No, but you can begin anew. Yes, with faith and practice. Dreaming on any level involves imagining and hoping. So let go of control, let go of expecting the worst and challenge yourself to visualize only good things. Only good things. 

Sounds so doable right? I'm thinking that quilt may hold the key. Approach it all one stitch at a time. There will be unexpected holes. Patch over them and move on. It doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful. The patches we make in our lives give us more warmth, additional depth, extra color.

We are all a work in progress. May the work we do soften us. Remember sometimes we need to set things aside until we are ready to grow again. It's pausing, not giving up. It's rest, dreaming, trusting and faith in action. It's taking pieces, of this and that, successes and failures, of wins and losses and creating a new life. 

Everyone Has A Mixed Bag

I follow social media. Heck I am an active participant in social media. I see the picture perfect representations of life, and I see the ones that are real and rough around the edges. The ones where people are honest about life reality and the challenges it presents. I see, and I am concerned about, the ones who have already decided this year is a shit show, will always be a shit show. Two weeks ago we looked forward with hope, and already have lost hope.

Not that there haven't been significant losses. There have and they hurt. They define moments in life we all have to face. They do not define how today goes, or tomorrow or the other 353 remaining days of the year. Those days will be a mix of joy, sorrow, laughter, growth, grief. Those days will touch all our feelings, they will ebb and flow. Feelings are meant to come and to go. We can feel multiple feelings and release them or get stuck in them.

You know me to be an optimist, to be lifted by grace and held safe by faith. You also know life has been hard, sometimes brutally hard for me. Those "hard" times have the capacity to color my life if I chose. I chose to fill my life with color. The color of hope, the color of faith. Granted it's not all rainbows and pots of gold. I struggle, I feel anxiety, I wish things didn't happen the way they did. I feel doubt and question my ability to love, to trust. I am not perfect. I make mistakes, moments where my daughter would call me 'so pretty' but without saying it ridiculously clueless. I haven't though predicted, even jokingly, that this year is destined to suck. 

Yesterday, at work, I assisted a woman selecting a funeral tribute for her brother, her favorite brother. She needed to be heard and proceeded to tell me about how great her brother was. She showed me pictures and told how he was a beloved part of her life. How she wondered who would change light bulbs for her since her super tall brother was gone. In her loss she chose to rave about the goodness of life with her brother. 

We can do the same. We can feel all the feels and chose how they color our life. We can be messy, lost, struggling. We don't have to be perfect, have a perfect facade, or show only our perfect moments. We can be real and be hopeful at the same time. We can deal with today, today. We can let the other 353 days come one day at a  time. We can take our mixed bag and rave about the goodness in it.