wisdom – "Ready Pen…"

Kindled Gratitude

Fatigued and weary, I entered that room. Who knew “it” would become a place of worship? Who knew the God of all creation would flood me with His love. A midst the clamoring weights, a Presence that would break through the dark.

I was reminded of that ditch. How did I not die there? How did I crawl out? Why didn’t he kill me? What made him stop the brutality?

I was reminded of that barrel at my temple. What happened? Why didn’t he pull the trigger? What scared him away? How did I find the will to move?

And, so it went. Picture after picture…none scared me, none made me angry. I breathed, “Why me?” Not “why me”? as in why did such and such happen to me, but in “why am I still here?” “how did I survive, and others didn’t?”

Not everyone escapes

Not every suicide attempt is thwarted

I think of sitting at our dinner table speaking hard things, deep things…not the norm.

I think of sitting with my hubby…sometimes talking, sometimes silent. Oh, the peace and tranquility…not the norm.

Even my daughter’s last days, last moments…final breath. In her room, on her bed. Me by her side as she took her final breath and her final heart beat still palpable on my palm. Yeah, NOT THE NORM. I think of My Grieving Friend who got “that call” and had to go identify pieces of her precious son. Of that Momma who got “that call” that her son had hung himself. Of that life that ended in a ditch with no one to say goodbye.

Psalm 106:7, “…They did not remember Your abundant kindness…” — Oh God, may I not take for granted Your abundant kindness. May I have a heart of gratitude as I recollect ALL that has been given to me; all that has been granted.

“…AMAZING GRACE, HOW SWEET THE SOUND THAT SAVED A WRETCH LIKE ME…”

May I continue to have eyes to see beyond the here and now. May I cultivate a heart of gratitude and NEVER, ever forget where I’ve been and where I’ve come from. Every tool has chiseled me into the person I am today. My story continues…

Diet

What are you feeding on? Yeah, no, not going into a post about Nutrition although We Need Food I’m talking about what are you feeding your brain?

PTSD has “a mind of its own” and can be pretty chaotic, however, I’m continuing to learn (key) that if I’m gorging on “negativity” this adds to the mess. Being off social media was a prescriptive-order from my therapist. I honestly didn’t think “it” a problem. However, as I was being inundated by news of people ending their life, I can now say this wasn’t helping my already ongoing thoughts of ending mine.

When my daughter passed away, I went on a reading binge about people who had lost loved ones. Now, there is a time for all things and it was good for a time, but a constant preoccupation with the subject keeps me STUCK on death with no space for living. I’m currently in a place where I can dimly see that this not only hurts me but also hurts those that are left behind. Now, was this a purposeful action? NOPE! However, it was happening and I’m aware of it, now.

Back when I was first diagnosed with fibromyalgia I remember being so desperate for information that I was reading everything about the subject. Goodness, was this a downer. Am I saying you don’t educate yourself? Not, in the least. All I’m saying is that I was borrowing from tomorrow and forgetting about today. And, for some reason I was focusing on the worst case scenarios. Something about my brain that does that.

Anywho, I desire to choose wisely what goes into my brain. My Frail Frame needs to be cared for as a whole. My brain needs a healthy diet as well. Am I saying I’ll never read the ugly? Nope! Just not obsessing with it. Am I going to live with my head on the clouds? Nope, but a bit of an aerial look never hurt anyone. Is this life all their is? Nope, but I’d be foolish to not enjoy the beauty of today.

My mind is a beautiful, intricate part of my whole being. Choosing to care for it well.

In the End…

Ponder with me…

When someone comes to mind, what is the first thing that pops into your mind? When death comes, how will you be remembered? When you are just a corpse, and hopefully, people come to pay their respects, what will they “think about” as they stand over you?

Death has rattled our cages again. I’m older, and hopefully wiser. I’m learning to “think through”, to “work through” grief and loss. Our family has the tendency to stuff grief down our being so as to not deal with it or even acknowledge our pain. So, I’m a pioneer in this “new and improved” way…haha! And, guess what? Working through loss and all the implications thereof, I’m finding, is so much better and healthier than the alternative.

What triggered the above questions has been two recent deaths. When the first death occurred the words and sentiments written were those of love and honor. When the second death occurred there was an eerie silence. The legacy left by the first will be one of fond memories and the deep desire that the person wasn’t gone. The second, well, there is almost a “relief” that they are no longer causing damage.

In the end how will I be remembered? What memories will I leave behind? Will I be missed or will it be a welcomed loss?

Oh, that I would learn to number my days, that I may gain a heart of wisdom; that I might leave a legacy worth emulating.

Regular Routine

Yes! A full week of regular routine. My whole being is so giddy 😀

If I ever doubt or question that caring for my whole person is beneficial, going off routine proves the opposite. However, being too rigid about routine can cause extra turmoil in my scrambled brain. Flexibility is essential.

This Frail Frame needs to be cared for Spiritually with good Nutrition cause let’s face it We Need Food to fuel, and to keep this achy-breaky-body-moving with some form of exercise. So Let’s get Physical!

The weekend is here. Go do something fun, new and exciting or sit, relax and enjoy a good cup of coffee. Get refreshed, renewed, re-energized. Get lost in a good book or write a piece from the inner most part of your soul or watch a good movie. Remember TODAY is a Gift! Tomorrow is not here yet. What will be etched in your memory from TODAY?

If…

If the coldness & deadness of winter was all there was,

then I’d be stuck in The Path

If the pain & discomfort of childbearing was it’s end,

then I’d miss the joy of a New Life

If the worm infested grave was The End,

then I’d have no purpose for Living

🖤HOPE – beyond the here and now🖤

✝️HOPE – beyond the grave✝️

Frail Frame

I have always been sickly. I remember “joking” with my mom saying, “Hey, Mom, the reason I’ve always been sick is because you and Dad made me out of scraps.” She didn’t find the humor in this, but I thought it was hilarious. You see, I was pregnancy number 15.

female issues since I can remember, which ended in a hysterectomy at 21, which plummeted me into hormonal hell. migraines. fibromyalgia. chronic pain. chronic fatigue syndrome. degenerative osteoarthritis in my spine. sports injuries and falls, which have made for horrid arthritis in and around my coccyx. planters fasciitis with bone spurs in my heels. uncooperative, painful knees – I’ll stop cause I’m getting depressed typing this list

Physical activity is not foreign to me, and, I actually enjoy it. But as I was facing one physical ailment after another, well, I was discouraged and, quite honestly, I thought I was doomed to a couch for the rest of my life. I continued my walking and attempted some jogging, but I would end up laid out for the rest of the day, and at times weeks.

As fate would have it, one of my daughter’s therapist recommended that she join a full service gym. He explained the benefits, and well, we budgeted and joined together. My daughter was autistic, and although she was high-functioning, I was her “security-blanket”. So there I was venturing into a huge-gym with my “shadow”. Supposedly, I was there for her, but little did she know that she helped me conquer so many fears. I felt like I was in high-school again (cringe). Here I was with my K-mart outfit and all around me were the fashionable-gym-bunnies. But the fact that I was there “for” my daughter, well, it just didn’t matter. Goodness, in February it will be 3 years that we took that plunge. So much has happened since, but I digress.

I’ve had to “rethink” physical activity. I’ve had to “regroup” over and over again. I’ve had to “revamp” a work out routine. And, modify, modify, modify. And, I’d venture to say “modification” will be my friend for the rest of my life. However, LORD willing, I will continue to “move”, even if it is at the pace of a turtle.

“Stop treating fitness like it’s a punishment. You can choose to eat and exercise in a way that significantly improves the way you look and feel. That’s not a punishment. That’s a privilege.” – cartergood

I’ll share my present exercise routine on a future post. Hope this encourages you to do something…anything…for the benefit of “the gift” you’ve been given ❤

Word for 2019

As I said, Goodbye 2018, I wondered if I’d pick a “word” for 2019.

Reading, “it” came! Now, I wonder, in the mystery of it all, if The Word is the one that picks me? I wasn’t looking. I wasn’t trying. I was simply reading, and POW, there it was.

♥ ♥ ♥ Beloved ♥ ♥ ♥

⇒I am loved by God⇐

⇒I am loved by my Family⇐

No earning. No striving. Nothing to do. Nothing to prove. Simply accepting being LOVED.

“Wisdom is realizing [that] allowing someone to help us can be a much bigger task than actually helping someone else. Accepting help means releasing the judgement we’ve imposed on ourselves.” – Melki JK Russell

Depression/December

December is here! Holiday cheer at its best…so that’s what I hear. However, for those suffering from depression, well, for so many reasons, the “sadness” gets even deeper and gloomier. Maybe it’s the “postcard” images ingrained in our minds. Maybe it’s the filtered social media images that constantly assault us and make us think that “everyone is happy” except us. Or maybe it is just LIFE

That Porcelain Doll has been shattered. The Plastic Faces have melted. And, even though the pain is excruciating, I can breath. I can walk in the freedom of who I am. The fitting in, the pretending was suffocating and oh, so, tiring.

My December won’t have fake tinsel and glitter. I will, however, be real and present for those that desire to have me around. AND, that, my friends is a gift worth giving; and the memories made are priceless treasures to cherish for years on end.

I am not sure where this “December” finds you. I hope and pray that “it” won’t bring you to despair. I’d love to pray for you, if you are inclined to share your need with me. We never walk alone!

THANK YOU to all who visit, follow, comment and like.

I am grateful for each and every one of you.

~~~Walking together, on this journey called life~~~

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 Writing, The 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).