Monsters under my bed

The kids were watching a recently made movie called "Easy A" - which takes its inspiration from "The Scarlet Letter" by Nathaniel Hawthorne.  It opened up a lot of memories for me from my teen years, and once Pandora's box is opened - of course - a whole flood of memories came surging back.

A common night-time scene in my house was me waking with a start after a nightmare about monsters, being in danger, being dead, being buried alive, or any number of other terrifying things...especially to an 8-year-old. Eyes wide with fright, trying to make sense of my surroundings, I would look around. The clothing hung on hooks by the door resembled ghouls about to attack me.  

Thanks to an amazing artist I found at:
http://flina.deviantart.com/art/Monster-Under-My-Bed-189986063

The longest trip I made every time - and it never got any easier - was the one out of my bed, across the floor to the door (where I had to pass right by those self-same ghouls), past the bathroom door, down the hall in the dark where the walls themselves seemed to be alive with moving shadows, and through the threshold of my parents' room. I'd ask to sleep with them because I had "bad dreams."

I wasn't aware at the time that the reason I was having the nightmares in the first place was the violence that was such a part of my growing up, and that the very person I asked permission from to sleep in her bed was the very person who was the primary cause of my nightmares.  I was terrified of her.  When she said, "Well, get over in back of your father, you kick the stars off the moon..." I remember such a feeling of relief being with someone safe.  Dad was the only safe oasis in my growing-up years inside those four walls.

Looking back, those monsters I saw got shoved under the bed for a reason.  I could not deal with those horrible things I went through in the daylight.  At night, they would rise from my subconscious and grip me by the throat.  Abuse victims - whether physical, verbal, sexual, emotional or spiritual abuse victims -  often suffer from these feelings of fear, panic, suffocating terror.  Not  having the emotional maturity to handle all those feelings as a child, I shoved all those things underground where they lay dormant (sometimes emerging in terribly disturbing nightmares) until early 2009.  If God had not intervened in my circumstances, I might have lived with those monsters under my bed (or in my head) for the rest of my life.

And then - out of desperation for an unmanageable situation in my life - I got into therapy.  And the monsters started to surface.  With the help of God and my therapist (mostly God, even my therapist admits this!) and the support of a great community of friends who accepted me for who I was at the stage I was, I started to confront these monsters - Fear being the worst.  It was closely followed by anger, resentment, and many others.  They'd grown as I had grown, so were just as horrible, just as scary.  

If you've read any of my blog you know the initial healing process I went through took about a year.  Occasionally, a monster will rear its head and yell at me, but for the most part, they no longer have power over me.  And when I look at the original monster ... often something I never expected comes to the fore.

Compassion.   

Bouquets Raised

Someone reminded me yesterday or the day before of a story told by Corrie ten Boom, well-known Christian author and speaker, survivor of the Holocaust, and much more.  Her book The Hiding Place is still a must-read for those looking to increase their faith.  I just checked and yes, it is available through Amazon (there's even an e-book for under $7.00!! wow!)

Anyway, in one of her later books she tells the story of how she was led into speaking and writing, and the lessons she learned there.  One of those stories is of the trouble she had with the accolades of people who would come up to her after she had spoken, to thank her for being such a blessing to them.  She was very uncomfortable with this praise.  She thought (as do I often regarding my own giftings) that she did not deserve the praise of those people, that God deserved it instead.  Yet when she would direct their thanks to the One above, they would appear crestfallen.  She decided to pray about this, because that's the kind of relationship she had with God - they talked about everything.

She told Him about her dilemma.  And then she listened.  In the stillness of her heart she heard something like these thoughts:  "They need to say thank you.  And you need to smile and say thank you back to them.  Think of their kind words and compliments, each one as a single rose.  Collect the roses and at the end of the day, and only if you are willing, offer them up to Me as a bouquet."

Sometimes people come to me and tell me things, that they enjoy my singing, that they think I'm a fabulous writer, cook, friend (or whatever the case may be)... and for many years I was decidedly uncomfortable with this.  In a very real sense I still am.  Yet, I realize - and this has only happened in the last few years - that the hearts from which these compliments come are grateful, that they have a need to express themselves, and that I steal that from them when I seem to dismiss their words with, "Well, praise the Lord!!"  So, even though I don't do what I do FOR them, I have learned to smile and say a simple, "Thank you!"  

And yes, afterward I do give that rose to God and then tell Him how wonderful He is, how grateful I am to Him.  Call it some baby's breath to go with it.  ;-)

Staying Grounded

Recently I spent the evening in the company of some amazing people, some of whom are at the beginning of their journey of healing.  

We were very honest with each other about where we were in our journeys.  As each one spoke, I found myself remembering those first few months of my own journey.  I remember how confused I was, how utterly afraid of being rejected, how guilty I felt for looking after me.  How it felt so awkward not to jump in and offer advice to people I loved who were obviously struggling.  And there were times I failed to refrain from doing it.  But the new lifestyle eventually started to become more real to me than the frantic "gotta-fix-it" mentality to which I had once clung.

Being around people just starting to figure things out in their own process helps me remember myself at that stage and allows me to not only be grateful for the progress since that time, but to give hope - to those who are struggling - that it does get better, that there is freedom, peace, happiness, confidence, and love.

It keeps me grounded.  Like the biblical tree planted by rivers of water, my new growth keeps people engaged and interested in what I have to contribute, and my shade gives solace to weary travellers and knowledge that it's okay to rest when they are tired, and gives them strength - if they so choose - on which to lean.  Others were that tree for me in my own journey, and although I'm not far enough along to build a tire swing on, I've learned and grown enough to be able to let people know that it's never too late, that even though the road is hard and the weather harsh, it's going to be okay because nobody has to go it alone.  

Remembering where I was at that time also helps me to be gentle with those who are truly confused, and to let them grow and mature at their own pace.  If they ask for guidance, I try to only say what worked for me, because they might have a different location where their seed is planted - and what worked for me might not work for them.  And I learn from all of them - no matter where they are on their path - honesty and vulnerability are key.  My contact with them helps me stay grounded, keeps me thinking of myself the way I need to, and not any more (or less) highly than that.  

Nope.  I would not abandon this new lifestyle and go back to the old one.  It's just not what I want anymore.  I like this life.  I like the feeling of being grounded and being able to help others send forth roots of their own.

The Real Me

Of course I've been doing some major thinking about the real me lately, since an impostor posing as me sent friend requests to my friends on Facebook and then started trying to scam them in my name.  I've had a couple of my friends come up to me and ask me if I'm the real me.

I laugh.

But really, as little as three years ago, I wouldn't have been able to tell you - at least not honestly - who the real me was.  

Oh, I would have said what I was to the significant people in my life: Christian, wife, mother, singer, musician, church member.  But I had no CLUE who I really was, what I really liked, because my entire life was about making someone else (anyone else) happy and not being mad at me.  The truth was, I couldn't look at myself in the mirror and smile just to see my reflection (it had to be to check my teeth, if at all).  Most times I just looked away.  Sometimes - to be rigorously honest - I still do.

But not as often.  In early 2009 I started a journey of self-discovery, of healing if you like.  At first it was so very painful - I was used to living life a certain way (based on rules and on fear) and it was hard to start to live life from the inside out in everyday life.  And through the process I did lose things - relationships that were unhealthy for me, that constant sense of dread that I would do something wrong and someone would think less of me.  Or be angry with me.  Or not like me.  Those things slowly just dropped off me.  I can't explain how it happened, I only know that on my own strength, I had been unable to change - and now it was happening automatically as I turned over my will and my life to God's care and let Him work through some very tough memories with me. 

And I gained some very important things.  Freedom, peace, compassion, and something that had eluded me most of my life - happiness.  My relationships slowly evolved and I found myself (instead of being looked down on or looked up to) being surrounded by people who considered me an equal, and I considered them equals, which - strangely - is no longer a bad thing.

Today, I describe myself as loving, giving, intelligent, talented, grateful, and passionate.  I know my weaknesses but don't focus on those except with God as we work through more and more areas in my life.  I know who I am, and have discovered that I like the real me.

I could get used to this

A funny thing happened to me on the way to work today.
I almost didn't get there.

My hubby was finished dropping our daughter off at school and then got into the wrong lane to keep going to my workplace.  I said, 'uhhh, honey?' and he realized he was going to his next stop (errand-wise) ... he would have forgotten to drop me off!!  Truth be told, I wouldn't have minded.

Even with all the weirdness in the last few days, I've so enjoyed being with my hubby that the old saying, "I could get used to this" really applies.

We usually say it to each other when the sun is warm, the breeze is just right, and we're just drinking in the beauty of the day.  But I think it also applies to the opportunity to spend unbroken, quality time with each other.  

Relationships take work.  They take time.  Little things done with each other, little kindnesses shown to each other, special experiences shared, hugs, prayers, too-often-untold truths told in loving ways.  It's the way ALL relationships develop - with others, our selves, and God.  

The payoff of spending time and making room for that person, whoever he/she may be - is far more than could ever be appreciated or enjoyed by one person. Or two.

But it's fun trying.

When what's bad is good

Well, we're home again and everyone is almost back to normal.  Except hubby, who had the procedure (see yesterday's post) as planned, though not on time.  

Part of his procedure resulted in him having a severe case of (what was it Bones said on Star Trek IV?  "acute upper post-prandial distension"??) er, uhm, otherwise known as "gas cramps."

The nurse who looked after hubby when he was coming off the sedative was very concerned that he get in the optimal position to relieve this pressure post haste, since it is very painful.  (I can attest - slightly different circumstances but the same pain...)

Yet in the hospital he could not seem to permit himself to do it, even as groggy as he was.  On the way home, with every pothole, every road repaired poorly, every crack in the pavement it seemed, he was in agony.  So when I got him home, my only instruction to him was to go to bed, lie on his side, and rest.  Which he did - for hours.  And (pardon my having a little sport here) every so often the sweet sibilant sounds of escaping air proceeded from those sweet lips that had never ever told a lie. In other words, it was "toot good to be true." 

Honestly, I never thought the sound of flatulence would sound so sweet to my ears than in the last few hours, since it means the reduction of pain and suffering for someone I love dearly.  That's the rare occasion when what's bad is good.


This is a good 24 hours.

Soon, all this will be a memory we can laugh heartily about.  Butt until then, I console myself (and him) with these words of wisdom:  "This too shall pass." 

The Best Laid Plans

Today's our wedding anniversary.

For weeks now we have been looking forward to our 30th wedding anniversary.  Two weeks ago we settled on a plan to celebrate it.  Instead of spending money to go to a resort or to do something "memorable" we would spend time instead - time on each other.  I would take time off work and we'd do things together - listen to the music we liked in the car - go watch the waves at the local seaside park, maybe take a walk in the woods if it was sunny, the point being spending time together.  I took the time off in advance at work. 

Then an unexpected medical appointment turned it all around and last Friday, I found myself cancelling the planned day off and postponing it until the following day to coincide with another appointment.  We even postponed our anniversary celebration - doctor's orders being for hubby to fast for a procedure.

"The best-laid plans o' Mice and Men
gang aft a-gley" - Robert Burns
photosource:
http://lucysclone.blogspot.com/2010/01/mouse-in-my-pocket.html

I had forgotten until first thing this morning that (given my initial plan to take the day off) I had made plans to meet someone this morning to discuss some preparations for a new meeting room for a group I attend.  Plus, my oldest daughter was not feeling well, so I decided to take a few hours off to take care of her and to fit in my meeting (sigh - this means I'll have to amend my leave requests.  Again.)  When I got to the meeting, the person wasn't there - a family emergency had made it necessary for her to be elsewhere - and nobody there knew anything about me coming.  So I came back home - resigning myself to change my plans - yet again!  (Have I mentioned yet that I have a difficult time with changing plans?)

Then in preparation for tomorrow's medical procedure, I was going through the itinerary and so forth when the phone rang.  It was the dentist's office.  They wanted to know if hubby wanted to take advantage of a cancellation and come in early (before his planned teeth cleaning) ... he said no, this wasn't a good time.  Both of us wanted to clear the calendar and get this medical thing over with.

Not two minutes later, the phone rang again.  It was the medical secretary of the doctor who would be doing the procedure.  "Doctor ___ has the flu and won't be able to be there tomorrow morning.  I'll call you to set up a new date."

Huh.  (Arrrgh!) My mind was racing with all the forms I'd have to fill out changing the type of leave for tomorrow, etc.  Secretly I was pretty miffed that the doctor would have the gall to up and be sick when we'd never again see our 30th wedding anniversary...and we'd already changed our plans to fit HIS schedule!!

It was our youngest daughter who snapped me out of it - thank God!  

She said, "So.  I guess now you can eat - and have your anniversary dinner ON your anniversary!"

My natural tendency to "lock in" to a certain course of events and be frustrated when (I repeat, WHEN) they don't play out as planned...has been the source of much unhappiness in my life.  I was starting to go down that road again - and when my daughter chimed in with her "look-at-the-bright-side" comment, I realized what was happening and quickly unlocked.

The lifestyle of living in this 24-hour period sounds simple but sometimes it just ...isn't.  It's less stressful when I live in today.  It takes work to remember not to live life automatically but to live intentionally.  


(Sigh) The phone just rang again.  The procedure is back on - guess the doctor is feeling better.


Oh well.  At least I won't have to change my leave request. 

Dad's watching

My dad Herman passed away in November 1993 of inoperable brain cancer, seven weeks after his diagnosis; the progression of the cancer was mercifully quick - for his sake.   

He was a wonderful man, a man's man, yet with such a tender and gentle spirit.  I've spoken of him before on this blog.  

Christmas 1993 was a very difficult one.  I remember our children were four and one.  Our oldest had practiced "Away in a Manger" and knew all the words to all the verses.  I took my guitar with me as we went to Mom's Christmas Eve (back then we still called it Mom and Dad's, it was so fresh).  And Christmas morning after Mom read the Christmas story, our little girl sang her song.  There wasn't a dry adult eye in the room.  Not one.

When someone could speak at all it was Mom.  "Oh, Herman would have loved that!  if only could only have heard it!"  

Source through Google Images:
http://www.superstock.co.uk/stock-photos-images/
1890-27005

I smiled.  "He did, Mom.  He did."

The Bible talks about a "great cloud of witnesses" made up of ordinary people who believed God and took Him at His word.  It says that these witnesses are cheering us on as we live our lives, make the right choices, succeed at being ourselves for God.

Time and time again I've felt Dad's attention and approval, heard his chuckle as one of the kids does or says something they couldn't possibly know he did or said, yet it happened anyway.  

And today, as I stood in church and sang in tight three-part harmony with a couple of other people, I felt that same presence, that thrill he felt when the music was just right and blended so crisply that his eyes would close as if to shut himself in with that experience.  In that moment, I understood that he still listens to me sing - that even though he is in paradise, he still leans in, closes his eyes and pays attention when I sing with my brother or with others who have the same blend of voices that I and my two brothers (one of whom has passed on now) had when we sang together.  It was a poignant moment - full of significance for me.  This was a legacy that he passed on to us, something he shares with us. 

Happy Father's Day, Dad.  I love you so much!  See you later... 

Suffering Comfort

I don't believe I can remember a time in my growing-up years when we didn't have a pet.  A never-ending stream of dogs and cats seemed destined to be always hanging around, usually being "on the wrong side of the door."  

I was (and am) continually amazed at the practiced and well-honed skill that dogs and cats have (but especially cats) - that of relaxation.  When my mom would see a cat practicing this skill (and yes, they do it 20 out of 24 hours) she'd say, "Now ain't that just sufferin' comfort!"  I was never sure if it was her way of saying the critter was cute, or whether she was actually jealous of the feline for being able to completely let go and enjoy doing absolutely nothing.  Given her type A personality I suspect it was the latter.

The guilt some people experience over what they consider "doing nothing" is unwarranted in many cases.  People were designed to need a break from work or the everyday routine.  

Resting, making time to take a break, is not "doing nothing".  It is "suffering comfort."  In Elizabethan times, the verb "to suffer" meant "to allow" - and if taken in that context the expression would mean "allowing comfort to happen" - or letting oneself be comforted.  This is not a bad thing.  It's like a solar-powered battery soaking up the sun's energy.  Too long going without, and reserves run low.

I have a tendency to forget that I need to recharge.  Often, I use time that could be spent in replenishing my spiritual and physical energy by working, or by doing things that drain me.  But when I take the time to allow myself to be comforted (yeah, I like that rendition) then I find that I have a reservoir of strength upon which to draw when I need it.  

It's a simple concept, and one which I constantly need to remind myself to put into practice.

Cookies with Smarties

Overheard at McDonald's checkout this morning - part of a conversation between a mom and her 4-year-old daughter:

Would you like pancakes?
No.
Would you like a muffin?
No.
Would you like eggs and sausage and toast?
No.
Well what do you want?
I dunno.
(shrugs in resignation...)  Just look at the pictures and tell me what you want.
That one!  (pointing to the breakfast burrito with red and green peppers)
That one????
Yeah!  Cookies with Smarties!
Uhhhh....honey.... that's not a cookie and those aren't Smarties... it's a really thin wrap with egg, and green and red peppers inside.
AwWWh!! I HATE green peppers!!
So what do you want?
(big sigh)  Pancakes I guess.

Found through Google Images at :
http://recipelist.blogspot.com/2008/06/mcdonalds-breakfast-burritos.html

Appearances can certainly be deceiving, and when something turns out to not be what you expected, well!!

Life is full of expectations and disappointments like that.  It's especially disheartening when the real thing doesn't even come close to living up to the brochure.  

Marketing focuses on the hype; many times folks end up at the returns desk asking for a refund or an exchange.  It's that way in the business world and it is that way in other areas as well, including relationships, volunteer groups, church, and work or career.  The disappointment can be devastating.  What's worse, something dies inside when we feel we must resign ourselves to the status quo.

The thing is, that is always the risk when it comes to anything involving human beings because we all make mistakes.  ALL the time.  (Wow that sounds like such a cop-out.)  The trick is - for the people "advertising" - to be realistic about the pros and cons of a particular action or lifestyle. And for the people who are the targets of such advertising, it's important to ask intelligent questions instead of assuming people have the right motives. 

Far too many times I've seen people rhapsodize about a particular thing (let's say church or Christianity - which is not the same thing, but I digress) while minimizing the in-fighting and the being-taken-for-granted stuff that goes on with annoying regularity, not to mention that whole judgment thing if you don't agree 100% with each other.  Of course it is never going to be perfect; if looking for perfection then humanity is not the best place to focus!! 

What I've found gives me balance is not focusing so much on what others are doing and instead checking my attitude.  I always lived my life having people do things "to" me.  My focus was always on (see another post I did a few months ago) whether they were throwing their ball in such a way as to hit my bat (and getting angry when they didn't).  So what I had to do was work on my batting skills - and get rid of some old preconceived notions of where the bases were.  Coming from a dysfunctional /abusive home, the boundaries are really fuzzy, there are a lot of in-team rivalries, and it takes a while to learn how to (as one friend put it) "behave indoors" as an adult.

Since going through that healing process, I'm learning that it's okay to ask questions about the nature of what has always been touted as the accepted / traditional thing to do or think.  "Why?" is a good question in that context.  Living life from the inside out - being honest, open, and willing - forces me to live outside my comfort zone in many respects.  Certain things have always been true and remain true ... but the next time I hear something or see something that sounds or looks like "Cookies with Smarties", I had better beware.  I'm not denying that miracles happen or that sometimes life does serve sundaes instead of sauerkraut (apologies to those who like sauerkraut)... it's just that a lot of the time, it doesn't.

If it sounds too good to be true ... it probably is.

Nothing for Something

Today at work I received an email (as did everyone else) regarding a fundraising event that is being held for a good cause.  The event coordinators are saying that for every donation to this cause, an entry will be made to win a prize.  My first thought was something like, "What?  do you have to take the internal reward of doing something nice for someone away from people by making them think they might be getting something material for their generosity?"

It's true, everybody seems to want something for nothing, and nobody wants nothing for something anymore.

The idea that a person might want to be altruistic (generous and giving without expectation of reward or thanks) is nearly unthinkable in today's society.  

Think about it.  I've even seen people applaud children who volunteer to pray aloud or sing in church.  Huh??  If we teach them that we only do something of a spiritual nature if we are rewarded, isn't that setting up an automatic "fail" when the kids grow up and are no longer "cute" when they do something we only expect adults to do?  


I've always been the kind of person that is uncomfortable with applause, especially in the church.  I believe that if I'm doing something to show my love for God, why should someone else tell me I'm doing a "good job"? As I think I've mentioned before - if it was a "job" - I'd quit.  The pay is abysmal and the hours suck.  But it's not a "job" to me.  It's an expression of worship, a ministry.  It's not something I "do" - it's something I "am" and the attitude that reduces it to a widget done for the approval of people cheapens it for me.  He has given me so much; I am grateful and this is my motivation for doing what I do for Him, not the plaudits of people.

I know that there are some who look at another's gifting or talent and wish they could do that; perhaps that is the source of comments like "Good job!"  I get that, which is one of the reasons I don't make a big issue of it when someone says it to me, especially someone who doesn't know me well.  But what these folks fail to see is that they are gifted in areas that I am not, that we all need each other and that God is delighted with the way He has made each of us.  Each of us has intrinsic value.  After all, God gave us a pretty big something for nothing anyway.

God's Waiting Room

By nature I am not a patient person.  
You see, I find it difficult to wait.  For anything.  Oh, I CAN wait.  But I don't like to.  Especially when I don't know the outcome...which I am finding is most always.

Today I had to go to a waiting room with someone - a doctor's waiting room - and when I walked in, it looked like an airport waiting area, the seats were like that, back to back and decidedly uncomfortable for long waits.  I settled down to what I thought would be a very long session. But - to my surprise I didn't have to wait long.  Within 5 minutes our name was called.


It's funny - when we sat in the exam room and waited for the doctor to show up (which only took another 5 minutes or so), the calm of the inevitable sunk in and my panic started to abate.  I can't explain it other than to say it was a sense of something being surreal, of a process that we'd entered that was unavoidable and that would come to its own conclusion.

Within a total of 30 minutes from walking in, we had seen the doctor and were out of there with instructions from his nurse for the next visit.  Hm.  I had been hoping that there would be some sort of information that was conclusive.  Well, at least the guy told us what to expect next.  But it means I - we - still have to wait.  

Source: 
http://www.artocrats.com/pieces/ee/waiting-room/

Matter of fact, I think I have spent a significant percentage of my life waiting for things and for people.  Ferry terminals account for approximately 3 months of my life.    Doctor's offices probably another couple of months. Scary! 

There's no way I could measure the amount of time I have spent waiting for this or that to happen.  Or for this person or that person to 'straighten up and fly right'.  What a waste of perfectly good time that might otherwise be spent in enjoying life.  One wise fellow I know says, "Life is what happens to you between your plans."  I like that.

When I think about it, I realize that along the way, God gives me "something to do while I'm waiting" but - as is often the case - I don't do it.  That something is twofold. 

The first thing I get to do is trust.  A friend told me today that trust was a 4-letter word (two Ts) and it's true, I find it hard to let go and trust that things which are beyond my control will turn out the way they are supposed to turn out.  This friend suggested that this would be a good opportunity to take God for a test drive.  I responded, "I've been test driving God for years; it's time to buy."  I have a tendency to panic about certain things and to rail against the powers that be that I have no control over the outcome.  I know from experience that all that gets me is knots in my stomach.  And those take quite a while to loosen.  How much better to accept the things I cannot change.

The second thing I get to do is enjoy now while it is now.  I don't know what will happen tomorrow or even in the next minute.  But I do know that the things that are happening are happening to me NOW and that I can refuse to let tomorrow's trouble rob me of the joy of the present moment.  This involves a great deal of gratitude and a whole lot of letting go.  

Even if I don't understand why or I don't know what the result will be. 

The genuine article

Lately I've been fighting a battle of identity.  My account at facebook was made the subject of (as far as I can tell) a shape-shifter who goes from account to account posing as someone's friend (by stealing that profile pic) and getting the person to confirm a friend request.  Then he or she assumes that person's identity and does the same thing.  They do it to phish for email addresses and to send the individuals involved scams (like go to such and such website cuz they're giving away money...) 

from
http://www.underconsideration.com/speakup/archives/002094.html

Scary.

Some folks gave me some feedback on how they knew which person was the real me.  My daughter said she saw herself listed on my wall as my daughter.  Not on the impostor's.  Others knew me well enough to know the difference.  Which makes sense of course.  People who work in banks are trained to spot a counterfeit not by studying all the tricks of counterfeiters but by studying the real article, being familiar with real money so that they can spot a fake!  

It's that way with everything.  Knowing what's real protects against the fake.  However, if you've never known the real thing, you don't know you're using a counterfeit until the real thing actually really does come along.  This is true in money, honesty, integrity, love, faith, hope, and relationship with people - including God, yourself, and others.  But once you've experienced the genuine article, the counterfeit looks more and more second-rate.  And you wouldn't ever go back to the way things were.

I sure wouldn't.

How many times...

I found myself thinking of an old LDS commercial from the 1980s tonight - one that never failed to sicken and sadden me.  Two scenes from it come to mind.  The first is a boy coming through the door all excited yelling, "Hey Dad!  I got an 'A' !!" and an off-staged dad's voice saying, "How many times have I told you never to slam that door?"  Similarly, the next scene is of a girl flushed with success, wiping her hands on a dish towel, saying, "Hey Mom - I washed the dishes!"  And a woman's voice comes on and says, "Did you clean the sink?"

Source:
http://www.rainbow-project.org/mh/boost-your-self-esteem

I remember vividly the soul-crushing feeling of having accomplishments ignored and generosity trampled by unthinking comments like that.  

They engendered beliefs about myself - false beliefs that I had to counter with the truth.  In my own journey of recovery from abuse and other issues, I found that I actually had to be the parent to that small, insecure child inside of me - to tell her that I was proud of her, to tell her that what she did mattered.

The false beliefs sounded something like this:   Nothing I ever do is good enough.  What I think and how I feel doesn't matter.  I don't have the right to have feelings - my feelings are wrong and can't be trusted.  I am not worth anything, I should never have been born.  The world would be a better place if I wasn't here.  I always screw up.  Everything I touch gets ruined.  I don't deserve to enjoy myself.  Nobody will ever want me as a friend, a wife.  

Quite a downer, eh.  But I truly believed those things and they came from things that grown-ups (and others I looked up to) said to me, the way they behaved toward me.  

So - I countered the lies (for that is what they were) with the truth.  I am valuable.  I have intrinsic value to God, to other people.  People can like me for who I am.  I can make an important contribution. I am capable.  I can trust my own feelings and have the right to feel them.  I don't have to prove anything to anyone.  What I do is good enough.  I am loved, and lovable.  

It took many repetitions over several months, and catching myself at telling myself the old lies, stopping in mid-thought, and countering with these new truths, before the insecure child that was me started to believe the truths and begin to mature the right way.  I'm living proof that the truth will make you free, but also that it will create you - recreate you. 

Quit that!

When I was about 8 years old or so, before I learned to ride a bike (which happened when I was 11) I would often get tired on outings with my older brothers.  When that happened, one of them would offer to take me home on the crossbar of his bike.  I'd sit side-saddle on the bar that went between the seat and the handlebars, and hold onto either side of the centre of the handlebars.  People did that all the time when I was a child.  We didn't wear helmets either.  It was a simpler time - and that is a whole other blog post for another time.

Anyway, we would not have gone very far before my brother, taller than I was, would lean forward and say fiercely into my ear, "Quit that!"

"Quit what?" I'd say.

"Quit steering!"

"I'm NOT steering!"

"Yes, you are, you're turning the handlebars."

"OH."  

And I would try very hard to stop steering.  I really would... but before long he would say, "You're doing it again.  Quit that!"

And I'd reply, "I tried, it's hard."

And he'd sigh in frustration and say, "Let ME steer.  Do you want us both to wind up in the ditch?  You're making it hard for me to balance and keep us from falling over!"


I knew he was right.  And as I thought about this memory this morning, I realized that my wanting to steer had less to do with wanting to be in charge of the bike and more to do with my fear of falling.  The very thing I feared became the thing that I put myself in danger of doing - and taking someone else with me at that.  The fear itself was also based on a basic, gut-level and instinctual desire for self-preservation.  

At the core of it, I did not trust the person who was in charge of the bike to keep me from falling.

What I really needed to do was trust, (not just say it but really do it) and then act on that trust by letting go.

It's that way with my relationships with God, with myself, and with others too.  The more I let go and trust that what needs to happen will happen, the less tense and fearful I am.  This kind of faith is based on the strength of the relationships in which I find myself.  Getting to know God, myself and other people is crucial to the level of trust I have in each.

So I hang around someone - anyone - to enjoy his or her company, not for what I can "get" out of the person.  That's not friendship, that's being a parasite, a "user".  I know because in my old world, that's usually what I did, for most of my life actually.  Rare were the friendships I had where I (or the other person) didn't have a hidden agenda, an ulterior motive.  

For many years, that is how I even treated God.  Like He was some sort of celestial vending machine.  I paid my tithe, I went to church, I didn't smoke, didn't chew and didn't associate with those that do - and in return I expected certain things from Him - answered prayer, financial blessing, health, you name it.  It doesn't work like that.  God is driving this bike.  He graciously offered me a ride to get me to where I hadn't the strength to go by myself, and I accepted.  He chooses where to go and when to turn, and my best course of action is to trust Him, let go and let Him steer. 

And forget about a relationship with myself; until recently, I didn't have one.  For one thing, I was told since I was very young that I wasn't to be trusted, that what I felt really wasn't what I felt, that what I had to contribute wasn't good enough, that nobody would want to hang around with me.  So I didn't bother getting to know that person because obviously she was a bad person.  But then God started me on this journey and I discovered that - underneath all the facades I put up to hide from myself - there was this amazing person under all those fears.  

Learning to like / love myself was one of the major keys to letting go of my need to control the outcome of my life, my circumstances, and my relationships.  It was a pre-requisite to having healthy relationships with others (ie., love your neighbour AS yourself), and really - having tasted this lifestyle, there is no way I would go back.

Resting

Faith is resting.

It's depending.  It's relying on completely.  It's not intellectual.  It happens inside and shows on the outside in decisions.

It's trusting that what (or who) you put your faith in will not let you down, won't move away.

Lasting, enduring faith is not humanly possible.  At least I've never been able to sustain it on my own without help. The Bible says that the faith that saves (rescues) us is a gift from God, not from ourselves.

It's one of those daily gifts that get stronger with the using - and the way to use it is to cease from our own efforts and just rest on His strength.  It's another one of those spiritual paradoxes.  Strength in apparent weakness, life in apparent death, richness in apparent bankruptcy. I don't know why or how it works.  I just know it works.

And the side-effect of this resting paradox?  Peace.  

One Day at a Time

My hubby and I were talking today on the phone; he was at home and I was at work.  Then he said something regarding a health issue he's been having that made my stomach give a lurch ... suffice to say that the worst case scenario suddenly intruded on my mind.

It took a while for me to address the cold fingers of panic that enveloped my intestines and squEEzed.  While talking to someone after that about the possibilities of what the trouble might be, she happened to mention in passing, "One day at a time." My head snapped around - and I just stared at her for a second.  Then I kind of laughed, and said, "Yeah, I know all about one day at a time..." and went back to my desk.

She didn't know how much I needed to hear that.  Her off-handed comment reduced my feelings of fear and dread a bit, and it also reminded me of one of the tenets of my new-found lifestyle: I am powerless over others and I am powerless over outcomes.  

Over 2 years ago, and periodically since that time, I gave (and have given) my will and my life over to the loving care of God ... and He is the one in charge, so I give this fear and this whole situation to Him as well. 

That sentence, "ODAAT" or "One Day At A Time" has come to my rescue many times in the last 2 plus years.  

And the concept is still the same.  

"Tomorrow has enough trouble of its own."  

God only gives enough strength for today while it's still today. One plaque I read during my childhood goes, "Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday." It's funny, I never forgot that.   ;D

My hubby isn't concerned about this new development.  He figures there's nothing he can do about it now, and it's time to trust the people who have the training to deal with it.  I've always been the kind to immediately jump to the worst case scenario.  It's a vestige left over from when I lived life out of fear.... a hard habit to break.

So I am reminding myself that whether this health situation is something simple or something ... not so simple, today is today and I can embrace all that is in it.  And when what is now tomorrow arrives, it will then be today and I will have the strength for it then, and not before.

I'm not denying that I feel unsure, vulnerable, helpless, and a touch overwhelmed.  But I do know that these feelings are normal, and that I can rest in the knowledge that I am loved.  And that I can remind my hubby that HE is loved, too.

Still there

So after so horribly many days of rain and blech, (that last word said with a lot of phlegm - haha) the sun came out from behind the clouds and we enjoyed a few hours of unfiltered sunlight yesterday and today.

I'm told it will happen again tomorrow and all weekend. :D

Source:  http://www.photosfromfinland.com/

It's so nice to see the sun peek through the clouds or around a corner - or through the trees.

It lifts the spirits.  

Funny how such a small thing as the weather can affect how we feel.  The sun has such therapeutic properties and many of my friends - and I suspect I as well - suffer from a mild form of Seasonal Affective Disorder.  One of them says he's "solar-powered."  A warm sunny day can truly be a gift.  

It's hard to remember on those dreary, rainy, misty or foggy days that behind the clouds, the sun is still shining.  Even if we can't see the sun, the fact that there is daylight whispers the secret that the sun is shining on our side of the Earth.  (I'm reminded of Rowan and Martin Laugh-in's 'Hippie Dippie Weather Man' who stated, "The forecast for tonight is Dark - followed by scattered Light rays in the morning.")  

And it seems that with all the draining, erosive things that happen in our lives that suck the hope and the life out of us: sickness, boredom, situations that require a lot of our emotional energy, and so forth, it's so hard to remember that God is still there - shining His light into our lives and pouring out His love.  Yet the clouds of our lack of understanding, or of sheer circumstance that seems designed to siphon off our joy and hope, get in the way and we forget.  So when the sun breaks through the clouds - for me it's a reminder that things will be all right in the end, ... and if it's not all right, then it's not the end.

All I need to focus on for this 24-hour period is staying real, staying close to God, and doing the next right thing. 

1 year and counting

Yes, it is true.  One year ago today I started this blog.  

I hope that at least some of you have enjoyed the journey so far, as much as I have enjoyed traveling it.

One of my first thoughts this morning was, "Today's my bloggiversary!"  It gave me such a lift to have come this far and still have things - a seemingly never-ending stream of things - to write about.   I write - that's what I do.

For you - my readers - I feel such gratitude for the written feedback, for those who quietly follow every day, and then stop me in the hallway at church or work, and make a short one-line comment that makes my day.  I'd write even without the comments, but they're like (pardon the reference to dessert) the icing on the cake!  I've made some mistakes along the way and I am so grateful that you've not thrown out the baby with the bathwater - and that you keep coming back. 

Thank you - thank you all.

Dear Annie

When my husband (then my fiancé) first introduced me to his family, he made a special trip with me to see his father's aunt Annie.  My first impression of her was of a very tired, very poor, very bitter old curmudgeon who had nothing good to say about anyone.  

I couldn't have been more wrong.  Sure, she had a crusty exterior. But as I got to know her, I came to care very deeply for her because she was so incredibly witty and intelligent, well-traveled and possessing a pithy wisdom gained from living through the depression, raising first her siblings and then her husband and children, and having to grieve both her husband and her son.  She'd been widowed for many years when I first met her, and she had lost her son to a heart attack several years previous to our meeting as well.  

She'd been a schoolteacher, had traveled to Japan, was one of the first Canadians to go there to teach English.  When I decided to go through university and get my degree, she was my strongest supporter. I would drop by after my classes or between them, and she would drink in all the experiences I told her about, leaning forward to catch every word.  She was a big believer in making money and putting some aside for retirement.  She herself was - well, I guess there is no delicate way to say it - extremely well-off... yet she lived like a pauper.  She banked every penny she saved.  It was her legacy to her children and grandchildren.

My husband and I would joke with each other about her obsession with money.  Yet we knew she had so much more to contribute.  She wrote her memoirs by hand for her grandchildren to enjoy after she was gone.  I remember her reading to me from them, and me having to wipe at my eyes from laughing so much at her deft turns of phrase.  She then decided to give the  papers to the children to type up and put into book form for the grandchildren, while she was still living, so she could enjoy their reaction to hearing her funny and interesting stories of growing up in rural PEI in the 1920s and 1930s.  My favorite story in her memoirs was the time she went to Japan and they asked her if she was "Anne" of the Island.  She said, "Of course," and they treated her like royalty.  (She loved that story... and I loved to hear it.)

When our oldest child was still a toddler, Annie had a spiritual experience that transformed her attitudes and softened that crusty exterior.  We marveled at the change in her, how the best things about her came to the fore and the obsession with money gradually faded in comparison with her growing attachment to her extended family.  One of the last memories I have of her is her flooring me; she looked me square in the eye with those fiery pale blue piercers of hers and said, "You can have all the money in the world, but if you don't have family, you have nothing."   

But as time went on, she was getting more and more frail.  Soon, she couldn't manage her own daily activities and had to give up her basement apartment, which was spartan to say the least, in favor of a lovely room in a high-quality long-term care facility in town.  She lived there for quite a few months and her quick, dry sense of humor never abated.  She passed away at the residence, quietly.


To honor her, we took the initials of her first and middle names, and made sure that our second child (who was born a few months after she passed away) had the same initials.  And that her middle name - Laura - was what our daughter's middle initial stood for.

Courage

"Courage is tiny pieces of fear all glued together."  - Terry Guillemets

"Courage is being scared to death ... but saddling up anyway."  -  John Wayne

Today a friend told me that he was concerned about something I had said out of frustration on my blog, and informed me that he was saddened and hurt by the way I went about saying it.  His perception was that I was saying something that I never meant.


His approaching me took a lot of courage.  At least for me it would have.  :) 


So rather than get upset and lose sleep - or perhaps even the friendship - over it (something I would have done a few years ago over far less than this) I immediately retracted the post, and told him privately that the perception he had of the way he saw my words was not the intent of them.  I apologized for my frustration and told him what my original intent was. I hope I got my message across without further muddying the waters.

There are things that I can't change.  Usually these have to do with what others decide to do and not do.  I have no control over these, nor do I need to try to fix other people, impose my own solutions on them, or advise them without their express permission. 

There are things I can change.  I can admit that I have made a mistake.  I can take responsibility for my own actions and allow others to bear the responsibility for theirs.


The trick is in having the wisdom to determine the difference between the two in my day-to-day life.  This can be confusing, as the Cowardly Lion found out in the Wizard of Oz.  The Wizard told him, "You, my friend, are a victim of disorganized thinking. You are under the unfortunate impression that just because you run away you have no courage; you're confusing courage with wisdom."  

Actually, by that time the Lion had already discovered the secret of courage: when Dorothy was trapped in the witch's castle, he learned from experience that love overcomes fear.  And in spite of how scared he was, he entered that dangerous situation and played his part to free his beloved friend Dorothy from the green lady's evil clutches.

I guess that is what my friend did.  I applaud him for his courage today, and I realize that in responding the way I did, I was able to face my own fear of losing his friendship and respond honestly and (hopefully) in a loving manner.

Now say something nice

Source of this photo:
http://onemanbandwidth.com/wordpress/category/asia/

There's a friend of mine who grew up saying to someone in her life, "Now say something nice."  This person was really critical and never seemed to have something good to say about anyone.

Looking back over my last few posts, I guess I've been doing a lot of ranting about this or that belief or behavior.  So it's high time I started practicing some gratitude.  Ever notice that someone - EVERYONE - looks better when he or she is smiling? Even if their teeth are yellowed or missing entirely, a smile that is genuine will usually generate a smile from someone else.

So here are a few things I have noticed, nice things that have happened, or just things for which I am grateful this week:

• We actually DID see some sunshine this week!  The winter coats are put away and the big yellow thing did show itself in the sky!
• I caught a nap for the first time in a long time this afternoon.  It felt good.
• I had a chance to talk with my brother yesterday without my mother present - he felt safe in talking to me about what HE wanted without feeling guilty, and we even had a few laughs.
• I am continually grateful for the restoration of relationships with my husband and kids.  This brings me so much happiness.  At one point I had nobody who loved me except my husband and kids, and (at that time) I felt that they only tolerated me because I cooked the meals and paid a few bills.  Now I know they truly do love me and that they enjoy my company... and I enjoy theirs.  
• I have more friends than I ever thought possible.  I have friendships with people who consider me an equal and whom I consider equals.  This is huge for me because if I had friends at all before, they were people who looked down on me or who looked up to me.  What a wonderful feeling to be on level ground!
• My job brings me a lot of satisfaction.  I have opportunities to help people and to expand my boundaries in that arena.
• And, more and more frequently, I get to go to gatherings where I know I am loved and where I feel safe.  At such places I know I don't have to say or do anything to be accepted and valued.  I just need to be there and listen.  If I want to share my own experience, my sharing is respected and I know there will be no gossip or judgment.  

The things that make life worth living are the simplest - I know I forget that all too quickly.  Shelter, food, clothing, a feeling of security / safety, a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose - each is just as essential as the other. Even something as simple as a smile when someone is having one of those "days from hell."  

Funny how my tendency is to major on the minor things and forget the important things. Every so often I need to be reminded to focus on what is uplifting, what is true, what will build up and encourage.

Like saying something nice.   Thank you, my friend.

Tick Tock

Thanks to
http://qmsrepair.com/around-the-clock-service/
for the photo

Several people in my life, at one point or another, have asked me one simple question:  "Just what makes you tick?"

I never knew how to answer that question. The reason for that was that I was too busy trying to be and think and behave the way everyone else wanted me to, in order to either have them like me, be impressed with me, or not hurt or leave me.  

Who I was changed with the person I was with.  And so - to be brutally honest - I didn't even know who I was, much less what made me tick.  I was incapable of answering the question.  So I'd say whatever I thought they wanted to hear.  And that would satisfy them.  Then I'd breathe an internal sigh of relief after they stopped that line of questioning. 

I never knew why I didn't know who I was.  Not until I started my journey.  And it was so weird when I kind of stumbled upon myself when I was trying to help my husband recover from his addiction.  I was desperate and things had gotten so out of control that I reached out for help and - I firmly believe - God put one hand on me and the other on my therapist, and brought the two of us together.  

That was in late January 2009.  By the end of February, I realized that my husband had his own journey to travel and that the one that I must travel was my own.  And that I DID need to start a journey into freedom.  I was so bound up tight inside, living in fear of so many things - including even getting to know myself - that it paralyzed my relationships with people.  

Over the course of the next year, the attitudes and behaviors I had accumulated in order to survive life started to drop off, and I started to LIVE life.  

Source:
http://lostegypt.wordpress.com/

It was like I'd lived all my life in mummy wrappings ... thinking I was living but so restricted by all the things I was wrapped up in.  Some of those things were made up of stuff others had put on me: an abusive childhood, labels that some folks would never let me shake, criticism, judgement.  Some of them I had put on myself while trying to survive my life: perfectionism, religious zeal, the victim mentality - and so much more. 

And then - slowly - the wrappings started to come off.  I was powerless to take them off... I needed help.  And I found that it was God - through the things I was discovering in therapy - who unwound the filthy things off me and let me breathe, stretch, grow, and walk freely in my faith for the first time in my life.  I didn't quite understand all that was happening to me or how it was happening.  All I knew was that I was happier.  Freer.  More serene.  Every day, more of those wrappings come off and I am getting to know myself (and my God) far better than I thought I could.  And through it all, I hear a sound growing stronger and stronger - the sound of my heart (my spirit) receiving new life.  If this is what makes me tick, I guess I have a new ticker.

Tick.  Talk.

Starfish

Last evening I was with someone who is just beginning a journey of learning to let go of the need to fix and rescue people.  This person asked me, "How can you tell the difference between generosity and unhealthy caretaking?"

Good question.

I think the difference is in where the 'generosity' comes from.  If it is done to make me feel better, or to fix something in someone else so that my life will be easier - then it might not be as generous as I think.  Instead, it might be downright selfish.  Or it might come from a place where I feel that I have to do something for someone else in order to be accepted, approved of, and/or liked by that person.  If it - instead - comes from a place of fulness, of health, of wholeness ... then it is true generosity because it is directed wholly toward the other person and comes from love and compassion.  It got me to thinking about the parable of the Starfish, which you can find at this link:  http://www.twilight-storm.com/musings/starfish.html 

I've used this parable in several contexts (including that of my job). And with respect to my family, I can imagine myself - as little as 3 years ago - being totally frustrated and discouraged by a beach full of these things and the knowledge that it is impossible to save them all.  This was because my focus was me - and not in a good way.  I felt like I should be able to do the daunting task ahead of me (whether saving starfish or rescuing my kids or my husband or my friends from the evils of [fill in the blank]) just because I could see the danger and knew enough to warn them.

But after going through a healing process on the inside - which, by the way, was very slow, very hard and very draining, but worth it - I'm finding that I realize that I can't protect my loved ones from all the ills in life - that this is not my job and belongs on broader shoulders than mine .... God's.  But I can go down to the beach in conversation with God, in gratitude, and trust that whichever starfish/person He leads me to, that's the one I am to crouch down beside.  And that when I approach this individual (or he/she approaches me) I can trust that God is in charge of the encounter, He's the one who is working, and I can relax and enjoy the process of being part of what He has in store for that person.   

Making Face Time

One night, not long ago, I looked up from my computer and noticed that there were two other people in my family in the same room, each at his or her computer. At one point we were all on facebook.  At the same time.  Yet we spoke not a word to each other. 

Hm.

I seem to remember one morning being asked by my husband to find another spot for my computer because it stole time away from him that he wanted to spend with me. He looked forward to the times we would talk over breakfast, and when I was sitting there checking my emails, all he was able to get from me was a non-committal, "Hm?"


So I moved my preferred screened communication device to the living room. And now this.


Someone reminded me of this today by mentioning how the social media are rewriting our norms surrounding what is "sociable" and what isn't.  And I started to wonder whatever happened to "face time."  (No, not the software.)

One-on-one conversation.  Talking about important things.  Spending time just enjoying each others' company.  

I was wracking my brain last night trying to think of how to spend our 30th wedding anniversary, which is coming up in a couple of weeks or so.  I weighed the merits of this place versus that place, of this activity versus that.  And then it hit me.  We don't have to have an "activity" or a "retreat" to spend quality time together.  We just need to spend time with each other.  So, we decided to do just that - I will take a couple of vacation days surrounding our anniversary, and we can keep our daily commitments for driving our oldest to and from college, and in the meantime just spend time together without burying ourselves in electronic devices or wearing ourselves out with a jam-packed itinerary.  Reconnect.  Enjoy the other person's company.  Do things WE like to do.

It's a start.  :D