It is a familiar view…
Every morning my Dad had bacon and eggs with two pieces of toast…always with grape jelly. I remembered that this morning, two or three decades later, as I ate the same breakfast (minus the bacon). A wave of sadness came over me as I saw his face in my mind’s eye and again realized that my father and I didn’t know each other. I think we wanted to but just didn’t know how to go about such a daunting task. Instead we pretended a type of polite friendliness which kept us at the surface of who we might be. Continue reading “Grape Jelly”
Did you think it would move and so you didn’t slow down? Did you think it reasoned that a big-ass-car-with-a-woman-chatting-on-her-cell is coming, I better get out of the way?
Did you NOT see that huge-winged flying creature? Did your brakes fail? Did you have a lapse of attention? Or are you some son-of-a-bitch who thinks nothing matters but yourself?
Trauma is very complex. In my experience, moving from trauma to healing is much like a crab shedding its shell of protection; painful, vulnerable, exhausting, energizing and oh, it feels so good to integrate into the new!
Do you remember when it was so “uncool” to admit a need. Some well-meaning mouth would correct my verbiage by saying, “You don’t NEED” you “WANT.” Like a want was so much more OK than need.
Well, I’m here to tell you, that’s a lie. We all have needs, wonderful needs, needs to be recognized, to be loved, to be touched, to be heard to be seen. Secret #1: Embrace your needs.
Stay with your truth. The more I stay with my truth, the more stable I am and not de-stabilized by others.
There are times when we need new beginnings.
You are not alone…
Nothing is unfolding for you the way you had planned…or it’s unfolding and you’re still unfulfilled and unhappy. There is a nagging exhaustion, frustration, anger, restlessness. That is me.
I had to ask myself over and over, what is it I am created to do? Who am I created to be? What is my calling, my contribution. I knew once I found it…and responded to it…success, peace, contentment would find me, regardless of my circumstances. It’s a path I’m still on, but one that is much clearer to me. To find it, I was in prayer, study and coaching.
As an introvert ignoring my own needs, I ended up exhausted, unfulfilled, resentful.
Calling all introverts who, like Nehemiah and like me, hear their calling but feel totally unprepared, unworthy, unable…all the “un’s” and you’re doing your best to hide from all that God created you to be. Emphasis on “be.” We are human beings, not humans doing.
Tiptoe if you must…and take action, baby steps are just fine. Then ramp it up!
I’m beginning to experience this influence in my life that is both perplexing and fascinating: I’m collecting and saving string.
Maybe that’s just being a good steward of the earth and her resources … or is it something more sinister … like an old-person-universal-genetic-code. That once you reach a certain age, you must collect string and wrap it in a little but expanding ball.
There was a day when I laughed at my father-in-law for his collection of string. I was cleaning his house and suggested we throw out this varied conglomeration of string. He looked at me like I had three heads. Beyond surprise, his shock accompanied a firm protested.
Well, Carl, today I’ve channeled your habit and I am quite proud of my growing (and useful) collection. You were a wise old codger.
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I was watching the boys behind us sledding down the hill. I remembered wonderful times of sledding down hills. Winton Woods Golf Course with Dad, when their hills were open to sledding. Ice skating and sledding at Aunt Irma’s and Uncle John’s. The boys guarded us well on those toboggans. We laughed, our noses were runny, the sun was shining. The older cousins shoveled the snow off the pond so we could ice skate. Life was best when Joe showed up. He was dreamy. Continue reading “Snowy Hillsides”
I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed against the earth’s sweet flowing breast.
A tree that looks at God all day and lifts her leafy arms to pray.
A tree that may in Summer wear a nest of robins in her hair
Poems are made by fools like me but only God can make a tree.
Joyce Kilmer, Modern American Poet
I can remember sitting at the kitchen table with my mother memorizing this poem for a school project…5th grade.
Abandonment and Betrayal, I find those most painful emotions must be felt, looked at and recognized for what they are…abandonment and betrayal, the rawness of it. A present reality that springs forth the hurt of years past that have not been given their due. Continue reading “Abandonment and Betrayal”
Many times, the hardest thing to figure out is exactly what I want. Life and opportunity offer a plethora of choices! More choices = more stress. I want to be right! I DON’T want to lose face! All that trying-to-control causes stress.
So, here you go, 65 Ways to Decrease Stress and Gain Clarity, Creativity and Peace. You probably know most of them but find it difficult to remember and implement on-the-spot. Maybe this list will help you as it helped me. Continue reading “65 Ways to Decrease Stress and Gain Clarity, Creativity and Peace”
It’s the Saturday in a holiday weekend, Memorial Day. Visions of picnics, parades, friends and family, laughter. Maybe next Memorial Day weekend.
Larry is at home, hospice is coming into the home. It’s sad enough that he’s bedridden but it’s the dementia that is most heartbreaking. He was always hard to “read” but now it’s impossible. Is he cold? Hot? In pain? He shakes his head no or grunts out “no” on just about every question. It’s his personality to be compliant and not a burden. He is not a burden, in spite of my own tiredness and feelings of abandonment. Continue reading “Our Path Together”