....feel like we belong

Do you ever wonder why you go through each and every day blessed, grateful and yet still feel sad. Feel lost. Feel like you missed the boat somewhere? Why is it difficult to look forward with happy anticipation? Maybe you know nothing of this reality, and if so I salute you. Maybe sometimes it's easier to chose isolation. Maybe the shadow of grief depletes your supply of inertia. 

For me it's a struggle sometimes. I long for changes, for connection and feel anxious when they happen. I did step outside of my introverted comfort zone recently. I invited the whole block over, okay, it was more like two blocks. My street is all one long block on my side, with a couple of intersections on the other. So it was hard to tell who lived on my block, so I went with who lives on my street. I don't really "know" anyone on my street, other than a casual hello when passing them while I'm out walking the dogs. But National Neighbor's Night Out was August 3rd. It seemed like a good time to reach out to my "neighbors".

I have to say I struggled with actually following through with the plan. I can talk a good talk and still abort the mission. I printed the invitations. And then anxiety stymied me. In the end, I had to pull up my big girl panties and walk the walk to follow up the talk. I compromised though. I did it after it was dark so no one saw me. Is that cheating? I don't think so. It was like a stealth mission. I'll admit to considering how the post office doesn't much appreciate putting non-official mail in mail boxes. I took my chances. I put 21 invitations out. I told you I have a long street. Good thing all the mail boxes are on the street or it never would have happened.

I figured, worst case scenario I'd sit on my driveway and drink alone. I drink alone every day. In the morning I drink coffee alone. When I'm thirsty I drink water alone. During happy hour I drink the beverage of the day alone. I'm a pro at this. But sometimes I like to enjoy the company of others. So I pushed past my fears and invited the whole block/street/neighborhood.

I had 7 people and a 4 month old kitten in a stroller attend. The kitten hogged all the attention, but I'm calling it a win. I met a couple who used to live in the neighborhood I lived in as a child. I met a fellow quilter. I met a single Mother with two boys. I met 3 gals on the way to book club who wanted to say a quick hi. I met my fears and pushed passed them.

Did it cure my angst of looking forward with anticipation? Not entirely. But it was a small victory that yielded deeper connections. I feel a bit more like I belong now. And, don't we all need to feel like we belong?

No Such Thing As A Coincidence...or is there?

I had a weird thing happen recently. Life is full of them. Sometimes we laugh them off, sometimes they stop us in our tracks. Sometimes we noodle them in our heads until we figure them out. Other times, they seem beyond coincidental. 

Let me preface it with this....I don't usually believe in signs from our dearly departed. Call me a skeptic, call me jaded, call me whatever. Others do and find great comfort in them. I'm all for great comfort. Who couldn't use more of that? 

Here is the scenario. I was driving through a city recently, not my home town. First I noticed a car with Oklahoma plates pass me. Hmmmm, Oklahoma? My late husband was born there and was a Sooner fan to the core. A bit down the road a car with Nevada plates passed me. He lived most of his life in Nevada. Now maybe the obvious part is that cars pass me constantly, maybe I need to put the pedal to the metal. My kids would probably say yes, absolutely yes. However, I thought it odd I'd see license plates from those two states close together. Next up, to my surprise, was a street exit bearing his name. Okay, now I'm thinking what are the odds??? Odds, clearly beyond my mathematical ability to calculate. This next "coincidence" was a corker. The one that made me think this is way past a random incident. Next was a bill board that read: "63 People Die From Gun Shot Suicide A Day". If I used the F-bomb I would have inserted it there. 

Coincidence or not, it went from amusing to eerie. Like his choice to take his life, I will never make sense of it. I'm not sure why all those pieces fell into place like that. Who know's the if's, the why's, the how's of life?

Strange things happen. Stranger things will happen. Pretty sure this made my top 10 list of strange things. All I know is it has me thinking. Each of us will make of it what we will. Each of us may be right. I don't have to be able to clearly define why that sequence took place. I can simply sit back and say Wow, I can't even begin fathom that. And....that is okay.

Introvert, Extrovert, Acceptance

There was a time when I never wanted to be alone, was afraid if I didn't do things just right, I would be alone. That alone was a sort of punishment. Now I realize you can be in a large gathering of people and feel alone, or even with one other person and feel alone. More importantly, you can be alone and be quite comfortable with it. I have learned large groups aren't my gig, but small gatherings are. In large groups I default into observer, not participant mode. No harm or foul there, you can learn a lot, and be most entertained, in the observer mode. It can also make you feel a bit invisible. 

When I was married it felt different, I had a safe connection with me in large social events. As I widow I find it much harder. I slide into listener/observer mode and then feel unseen. Partly because it's not comfortable to put myself out there. Then I feel I must be lacking in social skills. The whole you're at a party, you should be having fun, what's wrong with you? I'll circle back to this.

I'm gonna own it's been a hard week. What would have been our 10th wedding anniversary was on the 1st. As usual that triggered some tears. This one felt extra hard. Next it is a holiday weekend. Holidays tap into feelings of loss as well. Double whammy there. And finally, one of my pups is struggling, so I know another goodbye is somewhere down the road. Cue the waterworks. Then that whole anticipation of fireworks, that I used to enjoy, but don't so much anymore because I know it stresses the dogs. It used to be a day of great anticipation and active participation. Maybe July 4th is for children, and children at heart. My adult has taken a beating over they years, and I've lost some of the child at heart joy. 

So it gets to a point where I feel the need for the quiet of my home, the comfort of my dogs, the kinship I have with my sofa and a tasty beverage. Even though I long for deeper connections. It's a conundrum.

So let me circle back to my "what's wrong with you" question. Nothing. I need to erase that phrase, and honor what feels comfortable for me. It won't be the same for everyone. Some people can work a crowd like nobodies business. Some people can seek out and talk to anyone at a party. Some party hard until the last guest goes home. Others, like me don't have that skill set. It doesn't mean something's wrong with me. I may have to psych myself up to go even when I know some of my favorite people will be there. I may struggle with the interaction, I may choose to leave before others. I am an latent introvert at an extroverts event. Perhaps the losses in life have made me more introverted. I am keenly aware of being a widow in a couples world. Keenly aware that I am not just a widow, but a widow by tragic, stigma ridden loss. 

But, and there is always a but, I can be aware of when it's time to seek out the quiet of home and be okay with that. It is my reality. It comes with a myriad of feelings. All of them valid. This week the feelings are especially overwhelming. Owning them, honoring them, processing them. Accepting this is where and who I am in life. 

A $2 Moment....

Two to three weeks ago, at work, the customer I was ringing up for a $16 purchase got that appalled look on his face. He realized his debit card was at home and all he had was a $2 bill in his wallet. Pretty sure it was his lucky $2 bill. We've all been in his shoes. We forgot our wallet, we forgot our debit card, we thought we had $20 in our purse only to discover one of the kids used it. The look on our face says it all. Sometimes it's followed by oh crap, or oh shit, or son-of-a-biscuit eater. In his case it was simple disbelief and owning he did not have the money he needed for the gift he was buying and a small grab-and-go meal. Nor did he live close by.

It was a simple fix. I said I've got this, and I did. My coworker said she'd get his food, and she did. He insisted he'd pay us back. I said look at it this way, you can pay us back or you can pay it forward, or we can call it all good. Easy peasy. Then he handed me the $2 bill from his wallet. It seemed an odd exchange, but sometimes the most priceless events are really just odd moments.

I tucked the $2 away in my wallet in a place that I wouldn't use it. Holding on to it seemed important. There are times when we recognize something is important, but have no idea why. We trust we'll figure it out eventually. I was grateful to pay his bill, and honored, albeit amused to accept his $2. 

Today the young man showed up and reminded me that I'd waited on him several weeks ago. He said you paid my bill. I replied I worried you'd given me your lucky $2 bill, would you like it back? He absolutely did. I grabbed my wallet only to discover I'd hidden it quite well and was concerned it was gone. It was still there though. I think to the relief of all of us. He paid us back, I returned his $2. Hugs, thank you's and God bless you's ensued. It was good. More than good.

Sometimes when we come up short, we need someone to hold on to what little we have. Sometimes we plant a seed of faith and it greatly resembles a $2 bill. Sometime we have enough in our heart to give without expectation. Full stop. Gratitude in action.

It was a blessed beyond measure moment. With a value far far greater than the price of his purchase or his $2 deposit. It was trusting in it's purest form. Paying it forward and holding something priceless at the same time. We were changed by the moment, and it was good.

Measuring and Analyzing...

Years ago (many many years ago) I participated in speech club. I'm pretty certain the only thing I remember from that is this line from Emily Dickinson.....  "I measure every grief I meet with analytic eyes. I wonder if it weighs like mine or has an easier size." How ironic that a line about grief would plant a seed that resonates to this day? Emily, you've had a lasting affect.

A friend commented today about adjusting to new normal's. No one applies the term "new normal" to an event that is full of joy. New normal usually involves some form of radical acceptance. And, man, does the process of radical acceptance suck. New normal involves letting go of what we'd hoped, shaking out the broken pieces, and building a new life. Letting go can be brutal, the broke pieces come in shapes we never anticipate and building a new life is no walk in the park. None of us get through life without the experience of "new normal". Granted, some hide it very well with a facade that convinces almost all of us. I find that part sad, because there is light to be found in our dark and broken places. 

Some new normal's are easier to assimilate and move on from. Some evolve over years, with growth being hard to measure. Some come with obvious victories, some batter us because there is no logical reason for the sudden turmoil cast upon us.

But, and there is always a but, if we measure every grief, could we not also measure every grace? Seems to me they are two parts of a whole. A whole lot of acceptance, a whole lot of faith, and a whole lot of growth. Measure the grief as best you can, on any give day, and accept it. Measure the grace, each and every day and embrace it. I believe grace will outweigh the grief given time. Not an easy path to be sure, but one we can find our footing on. One that leads us to our new life.

Self Talk

Long time no blog. Have I wanted to, yup. Have I, nope. Mostly I've been working. I resigned one job, worked an interim job, transitioned into a new position and hit the ground running. And running, and running.

Truthfully, I've run myself ragged. After long days at work I face the "I should's". I should walk the dogs (and most days I do). I should mow, I should do laundry. I should eat, I should clean up the kitchen. For a solitary person I have a lot of dirty dishes. Mostly cups, and spoons. Okay, plates too. I can "I should" myself day and night.

I'd like to erase "I Should" and replace it with I'd like, I need, I want, I will. Then make sure some of those involve, rest, laughter, and in general slowing down enough to breathe. To be in the moment.

I'd like to feel my feelings. Pull them out of the basket, examine them and release what I'm done with, what isn't mine to carry. I'd like to remove my "mask" of strength, and just be. Be able to connect, to ask for what I need, to be fully supported. I want to sit in my grieving moments, acknowledging all the big losses and little losses, so I can move forward with a life that fills me with hope.

I will talk to myself more. Self, you did good today. Self, life has been so so hard, and yet you survived. Self, it was not your fault. Self, I love you. Self, it's okay to cry. Self it's okay to make mistakes. Self, use your words. Self, it's okay to laugh. Self adopt another dog. Self, follow your bliss. Self, rest. That one bears repeating. Self, rest. Self, live!

When you falter, and we all do, ask your self, how you feel, what you need, how to find rest. Then run in that direction. You can thank yourself later. 

Take A Flying Leap

Sometimes you need to take a leap of faith. You need to say this doesn't work for me any more. You need to say, yes, I'm open to that. I won't, or I will, I'm in, or I'm out, whatever the case may be.

Then you wait for the outcome. Of course, the waiting is the hard part. You know you made the right choice deep in your heart. But the result is so different than you planned. That's because all we can do is our part, the rest is beyond our control. We can hope, dream, wish and pray. Often the picture looks, in fact very much is, different than the life we imagined. 

It's a tough pill to swallow. It involves letting go and letting God. It involves trusting that whatever comes, or doesn't come to pass is part of the bigger plan. We're talking growth here, growth is hard. Not though, as hard as holding growth in. Not as hard as looking the other way, not as hard as giving up because we won't step up.

Which takes us back to that leap of faith. Take it. Because what if it works out better than we ever dreamed?  And if not, because sometimes it doesn't, you learn a lesson, give thanks for the journey and chose another path. Not easy, but necessary. Chose to grow, chose to shift, trust it will unfold according to the plan. Take a flying leap....