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.