Walking

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” ~ Psalm 23:4

Walk” – the act of putting one foot in front of the other, causing forward movement. It could be a steady pace, a slow pace, a shuffle or a drag. The moving forward can be clearly evident or barely noticeable.

Through” – Google defines this as, moving in one side and out of the other side of (an opening, channel, or location); continuing in time toward completion of (a process or period).

Just to words to chew…to ponder…to meditate on. Just two words to steady the chaotic flow of my mind. Just to words to sink my teeth into, to savor every bit of their meaty meaning. Not a whole book, not a paragraph, not even a sentence, but two words.

Just like my physical body needs nutritious dense foods to function, my mind needs life giving words. Words that bring hope.

When the bottom falls out – heck! when it literally shatters to pieces – from under your feet, you need more than just cliches or pat-answers. When the shell of your precious daughter’s body is being lowered into a hole, ONLY the hope in the God of the Resurrection can keep you from throwing yourself after her.

AND so I walk, believing I will get through to the other side. But as I walk through to the other side, I will, by God’s grace be present for those that are still walking on this journey called life.

Here is to walking together ❤

Continual Process

Morning ya’ll! It sure has been quiet around here, but man has my brain been in a frenzy. Thankfully it is not one of those “brain explosions” that lay me flat, unable to function. No, it has been a steady flow of pondering, meditation, a-ha moments and just plain rethinking. Geesh, you’d think at my age, I’d be done “thinking”. Yeah, not going to happen, not this side of heaven.

As my brain churns, I have found it difficult to “sit down” and put into words what is coming out. In fact, I haven’t even done my regular journal writing, which says so much, since writing is typically the way I sort things out. It’s like having a pile of dirty clothes, which is so overwhelming you don’t know where to start. So instead of doing anything…just one thing…I simply do nothing. And, it is so bugging the heck out of me!

There is also so much apprehension in putting things “out there”. I thought I was doing better, but I’m realizing that I am still “fearful” of speaking/writing whatever my mind is pondering, given that the process is still being worked out. Deep in my sub-conscience I desire to put forth a “finished product”, whatever that may be, instead of the “journey” and the processing with all its twists and turns and deep valleys and mountain highs. Once again, I gasp at this, because I don’t want to put forth a Porcelain Doll image.

I pulled out some of my notes from Natalie Goldber’s Book, “Writing Down The Bones”:

“…doubt is torture…” “If you are not afraid of the voices inside you, you will not fear the critics out side you.” “…be present, unafraid, open, let the situation give you the subject…” “Dive into absurdity and write. Take chances, be fearless of failure.”

DOUBT, FEAR, OPEN…fearless of failure…! How is it that one gets to the point of not caring what “critics” have to say, yet somehow one finds oneself right back in that funk, that paralyzing funk that threatens to shut ones voice! My therapist says I give people too much power over me. Ya think! It’s my life long story :-/

Questioning what I have to say has been an ongoing struggle (Love of WritingThe Runaway ) Also, thinking that I have to “fight” my way to be heard or having to explain myself over and over. My concept of “healthy” relationships is, well, really skewed. Working on it, though 🙂 I heard actress, Leah Remini say, “I thought I had to fight for everything.” Ok, this sent me into deep, deep thought…which, by the way, continues.

I believe we are always evolving, learning. The day we stop learning, then, we stop maturing and hearing others around us; being open to change and not rigid statutes. I remember a time when I thought 40 years of age was ancient. Let me tell you at 52, that mind set has really changed. There was also a time that I thought if I fulfilled that “proverbial checklist” ALL would go well in the camp. Yup, that magic checklist is non-existent. Hardship and pain are part of this life journey. The question is not avoidance, but how will we handle “it” when comes? And, are we willing to receive help and ask for help when needed? Being vulnerable, transparent, learning to trust.

As you can see, lots going on in this brain of mine. I desire to continue to listen deeply, and write freely. To allow my pen to be ready to write even when the process is messy and unfinished, not waiting until “it” is boxed up, tied neatly with a pretty little bow. Cause let’s face it, if I wait until then, this temporary vessel will be resting in peace (Gosh, I am so ready, but I’m accepting that it’s not time yet).

Monday Musings

The beginning of a new week. Fresh, clean, ready to take on the world! “What will this week bring”, I ask. With energy and stamina after an “off day”, I head to the gym. Oh, Gymboland, you never disappoint with your many side shows and aggravations. It’s usual locker room antics, with it’s noises and views. The selfie station in front of the mirror. The “I own this whole row” spread and the mad-dog faces wanting to look mean and tough. I sometimes wonder if “we” ever left high school? (Gym Rant , Another Gym Rant, Inquiring Mind)

California’s weather is changing and with it lots of coughs and sniffles. Would it be rude to carry a disinfectant spray? People simply do not know how to cover their cough and sneezes. Then you have people with open mouth breathing…goodness! Why?!?!

Nonetheless, got it done! Endorphins flowing to the brain. Ready for the day. Here’s hoping for a “balanced”, productive day 😀

Surreal

Have you ever been in a place that seemed like you were experiencing an out of body experience? Like you are in the audience watching “you”? Yesterday, I was doing my usual grocery shopping, when all of the sudden I became aware of a “whistle”. WHAT?! ME?! WAIT?! NO?!

Today, I came across this:

AND, so in the little things; in the seemingly unrelated things; in the messages that seem to be separate yet are so entangled…I will ENJOY the sound of the whistle 🙂

A Year Plus

One year and six months…547 days…lots and lots of hours, minutes, seconds. Each second your absence is felt acutely, deeply. Life continues, even when I want it to…STOP! Your room is still the same. Your bed has the same sheets, unwashed, to preserve your essence. Remember Cam (a stuffed animal)? You held that thing, close to your face. Now, I hold it to my face. I miss YOU!

I saw some of your friends on Sunday, they miss you too. It was difficult to be around them, but it was good. Someone said to me, “We are glad you are here. We miss Angie so much. By you being here, we feel like we have a piece of her.” Angie, I hadn’t thought of that. You are missed by so many.

The holidays are coming. Goodness, how you loved the holidays. Not sure how it’s going to be, but hey, today is here. I’ll just do “today”. We will see about “tomorrow”.

I long to hold you, to hear you, to simply be with you. Time makes it feel like you are further and further away. Pictures and videos are just not cutting it. However, I am so thankful for technology, and that I have those videos with your voice and beautiful face. I view them often.

I LOVE YOU so very much and MISS YOU to no end ❤

My Family

Greetings from from my neck of the woods, and no I am not little red riding hood 😉   Thank you to all the new follows and likes. Whether you visit or stay a while, I am grateful for each and every one of you fellow sojourners.

Some reasons I Write… And I Write…

I introduce to you my beautiful family. This picture was taken at my 50th birthday party. It was a time of great celebration and joy. Little did we know what was around the corner, however, this day was a day of making wonderful memories. Tomorrow is not here, yesterday is past, today is what we have. Those around us are precious gifts. Let us lavishly love! Let us dance like nobody is watching, and even if someone is watching…let them see YOU – dancing, crying, smiling, splattered on the floor…let them see the real you. TODAY is a gift…what will we do with it?

Stigma

The stigma and shame behind “labels” can create enormous havoc in an already broken and fragile state of mind. The struggle to cope and understand is greatly affected by once upbringing and the prevailing mindset of those around you.

I grew up in an environment where the mindset was that you fended for yourself and vigilantly hid any sign of weakness. Talking about “it” was a resounding NO…not an option. Going to the doctor was not an option, either, let alone a mental health specialist. Finances were slim to nothing. Any monies had would go to feeding the many mouths that begged for a piece of tortilla to appease their growling stomachs.

Any reference to a psychiatrist or psychologist was in disgust or disdain saying, “that person must be totally crazy to go to that! That’s not needed. They are good for nothing.”

There was an auntie who dared to venture into that forbidden territory. Oh, the things that were whispered about her. Those words cut to the heart. No one else dare venture out. They did not want to be part of those cutting conversations and side glances.

Do to extreme circumstances, another family member saw herself in need of venturing out. She did, however, in the strictest most hidden way. No one must know. Eventually, she stopped going. Maybe it was too difficult to keep up the front…we will never know. In her ultimate darkest moment, the “help” needed was denied and with no power to keep fighting, she ultimately succumbed to it all.

Many months have ensued, the memory of accepting my medical doctor’s advice comes to mind. The initial phone call. The first appointment. All the voices within and without. The fight to not get up from that chair. The fight to not flee that office…to run out. Each session, a struggle to accept.

I think I’m starting to accept…I think I’m starting to give my therapist a chance…I think this is NOT weakness, but strength…I think this is not shameful, but a necessity.

~ ~ ~ AND…it is…OK ~ ~ ~