Appreciated for Granted

I have a teenage son whom I love with all my heart. He is overall a wonderful human being and I truly could not be more proud of him. We get along so well that sometimes when we are out and about in the world, people actually think we are a couple! (Cool for me-not so cool for him!)

Of course, we are mother and son and therefore fight like mother and son from time to time. As much as we get along, it is my job as his mom to enforce rules and morals within him and help him grow into the best adult he is capable of being. As a teenager, it is his job to challenge me in that department from time to time and act like the status quo. One of our, infrequent but recurring, issues is that of entitlement and appreciation.

I tend to be an extremely giving person to those whom I love and value. I can even go beyond what maybe I should do for others and overextend myself from time to time. I know a lot of women (and some men) who also do this frequently. I am a nurturer and enjoy taking care of those around me. Honestly, I do not mind doing all the many things I do for my family or my friends. I am happy to do whatever I can for others and feel fortunate to be able to be a blessing with whatever I have to give. I do not do anything for glory or thanks, or to be a martyr. That being said, when others start to expect or take for granted the many things we do for them, the need for appreciation becomes enhanced and martyrdom is an easy trap to fall into.

For example; my son is 16 years old. The age of social development trumping almost every other facet of life. I often worry that his cell phone has become one with his hand and that his fingerprints have likely worn off from the excessive amount of texting that occurs around the clock. He is so involved in his world that at times he will make many plans for himself and come home to "tell" me what is going to happen and where I may drive him and when. The same way that my husband used to think I would always know magically when he ran out of his soap or needed clean uniforms to wear, by the next day of course. I seem to be the only one who keeps a running tally on when toilet paper is low or exactly how many slices of bread are left even though I am fairly certain these are a few of many shared products!

I spend my days taking care of a baby, trying to clean a house and get laundry done, making sure there is enough food to feed everyone as well as prepare it in a creative and delicious manner, be social enough through visits and phone calls to keep the friends I have, making effort to pay our bills -and on time no less, and getting enough exercise to be healthy and extend my lifespan. Wait.....what?? So of course it is partially my own fault. I make it easy for them to have it easy. Once in a while I feel unappreciated for various reasons, try to bite my tongue, and inevitably end up having a major mommy meltdown. The "thank you's" and hugs pick up again and I happily go back to my overindulgent and loving ways.

But do you know what? I do it too. Taking things and people for granted. We all do.

The reason this has been on my mind lately is because my son has really been making a conscientious effort to be more appreciative of me. He is a sweet kid and he does know what my days are like and that I'm often tired and worn out. He is aware that he does not possess teleportation powers and is driven to the many places he needs to get to. He has been thanking me very frequently and specifically for whatever I have been doing for him. I have to admit, it is very nice to know that he cares so much to make the effort. That matters more to me than the actual thank you's. My husband and I learned how to appreciate each other a long time ago and still need reminders now and then when we get lazy.

I can honestly say that I am a very thankful person. I have been through dark times where there did not seem like much to be thankful for and yet there always has been something to be thankful for. It is a daily practice of mine to speak anything that I am thankful for all day long, whether it is to God or to another person. It can be a flurry of bluebirds at the park that makes me smile, my daughter laughing and dancing, the love my husband shows me by sending me a message or a phone call from work, the food I get to eat whenever I am hungry, money that comes just in time when things are tight financially, health problems that have healed, friends that make me laugh or call just as I'm about to cry, it can be ANYTHING!!! That is the point.

How many of us practice being thankful when things are good? So many of us just coast along with the easygoing coworker or boss until there is a problem or someone joins the office that gives us reason to complain. Do we typically take our families and loved ones for granted because they are always there for us no matter what we do or what sacrifices they are making on our behalf? Do we ignore God for all the blessings in our life until a crisis forces us to our knees and all of a sudden we are admitting a higher power because we need one?

Listen, I am not "Mary Sunshine" all the time. I get annoyed at closet doors that fall off every time I open them. I have days where my beautiful, healthy, smart, little girl drives me to the brink of insanity with teething and mood swings. I get annoyed with my husband, son, family, friends and think of being alone on an island if only for a few days. Sometimes I have road rage in traffic and get impatient in the store lines. I am a human being.
But then, something will make me smile like a sunset, a baby laughing, or an old couple holding hands. I may see something that makes me cry like a commercial about world hunger or a little child coming out of the cancer ward at a hospital. There is always something to bring me back around to the reality of just how blessed I am and how much there is to be thankful for.

When you start to make the effort to be thankful for every little thing and person in your life, you end up with a whole lot of blessing. Give it a try- learn to truly appreciate all that is taken for granted!

Now.

My day began early this morning with a friend and I having a conversation about our shared frustrations at the seemingly stagnate stage of life we are currently living. This really got me thinking about if any of us are ever truly happy with the current phase of our lives. And exactly how do we go about "embracing the now" as we are instructed from talk show superstars, yoga gurus, self-help books, therapists, religious leaders, etc... ?

Everyone says to do it but it seems a struggle many deal with or I'm thinking the message would be waning as opposed to increasing. It's not a new theme, many of the oldest philosophers and spiritual leaders on record have given the same advice to the people of their time. How then, can there still be such an issue with the application of such a simple piece of advice?

The funny thing is that none of us can ever know what the next moment will bring let alone future events. As the mother of a teenager and a one year old toddler, I can assure you that each moment is an adventure of the unknown. My sweet little baby has learned to walk and climb rather well already and will be trotting along in play when all of a sudden out of nowhere, loses her balance and smacks her head into something. It typically happens so quickly I am running to coddle and comfort her instead of saving her from the fall. She herself is always surprised and seemingly offended by whatever inanimate object she has fallen upon and received her latest lump from.

My son is learning to drive and the fear of the unknown on the road is the terrifying aspect of teaching him and allowing him to eventually drive away on his own.

God willing, my daughter will eventually run and dance and exercise her body with few or no bumps and falls just as her brother will hopefully take the wheel of his car without any major accidents. The scary thing is that while these optimistic views are likely to occur, we never do know what will happen and it is that unknown that haunts most of us; the possibility of the unpleasant unknown. This is what drags us down and prevents us from not enjoying our now, fear and worry. 

Fear is the true F-word.

I can honestly say I am not unhappy in my current situation in life. There ARE days where I feel like I am not doing what my 'life calling' may be or that I am not sure why I went to college and then became a stay at home mom. My teenager can take for granted the many things I do for him and my husband can forget that I am still the woman he used to woo with romance and sensitivity. Things break, finances are unstable, friends come and go, health fails and strengthens, family dramas unfold, diapers and laundry never end and dishes multiply like Gremlins. If, while enduring these minor life trials, I could know that in a few years would have done something that impacted many lives in a positive way, the rough days would be more bearable. But that is not how it works. We never get to know the end of the story until we get there. The problem is when we arrive at the end of the story, it is over. This is why we need to love the now!

The ironic thing is that often our 'now' is what we used to wish for in our past. I sat today remembering all the times I struggled to make it to my son's school events or sport's games because of working. I remembered what a struggle it was to pay for daycare as a single mom and how badly I wished for a husband that would treat me well and love me and our child(ren) with all of his heart. I thought about how I had two surgeries to treat a disease that made having a baby almost impossible and could have left me completely barren. I remembered when I longed for good friends who would love me like their sister and not be petty or jealous or cruel. I thought about the fact that I wanted time to be able to focus on my writing and share all that I have been through. It was after this reflection that I realized what an incredible 'now' I am having.

I encourage you to stop. Look around. Check out where you are compared with where you used to be and see what kind of 'now' you are missing while you look ahead. Do it.....now.

Mental Potpourri

So I'm faced with the dilemma of having too many topics on my mind. My husband thinks I should just pick one of them and "there's always another day". Easy for him to say. He'd just love for me to eradicate one of my 'brain topics' from the daily barrage I spew at him upon his arrival home. I am sorry, I am home alone with a baby all day long. It is fun and interesting and she is lively and entertaining but the conversation, I have to be honest, lacks. We have been excited the past two weeks about the word 'Bubbles' being slurred out of her tiny mouth.
I feel like I have had brain-rot for the past 20 months and am just beginning to experience the beauty of cognitive functioning once again. Other mothers told me my brain would come back but I was unable to fully process what they were saying. Usually I was just staring at them with my brain screaming "I THINK THIS PERSON KNOWS I AM NOT STUPID AND UNDERSTANDS ME RIGHT NOW!!!"

So there's that whole mommy-hood thing to talk about. Then there is my concern over the environment, relationships, teenagers (we have a 16 year old boy), spirituality, friendship, love, health, fitness, weight loss......do you see what I mean? It is really hard to pick just one topic to talk about at a time. It is sort of like when you walk into a specialty ice cream shop and there are all these innovative homemade flavors to pick from and you cannot decide. You know that you may be able to get away with a double or even a triple scoop without looking like a lunatic but you still want to order the party sundae that comes with 15 scoops so you can have all the flavors. Maybe I need a reminder that I can always come back another day for another scoop!! They do not have to all be eaten on the same visit. But still, the dilemma of which one to try first!?

I want to pick a topic that other people give a damn about also. I suppose that is the risk of writing. Writing what you care about and hoping that at least one other person understands and feels the same way. But then, on the other hand, I guess the beauty of writing is that when you do share what you are feeling and living, it will ultimately connect with others because after all, we are not so different.

Love Letter

I asked my husband one day why he loves me. Most women have turned to the man in their life and asked this question at one point or another. Like most men, my husband typically sighs and makes his best effort at replying with what he thinks I am hoping to hear him say. This time he replied, “Because”. After thirteen years of togetherness and over eight of them being married, he is getting to the point of thinking that responding at all (to questions we both know are too deep for his male comfort level and any answer most likely too shallow for my female desire) is an acceptable response. I teasingly pressed him to expand on the very convincing “Because” he had offered. “But whyyyyy honey?” Wanting to sit in that comfortable couple’s silence and enjoy any type of televised rerun, he turned to me, looked me directly in the eye and said, “Because. You are my best friend.” Ahhhhhhh. Hard to argue for more with that one!!! The guy must actually be paying more attention than he gets credit for! Of course, as women, we typically in our crazy, fairy-tale ridden, soap opera watching, romance novel reading, Lifetime television watching minds, desire to hear how beautiful we are, how our skin is like sensual satin to his touch, our lips like rose petals he could kiss forever, our eyes but mere windows to our souls, pools of depth and mystery. We want to hear how he could never live without us, how we hold together him and the lives we have built together and that it would crumble if anything were to ever, ever separate us. Alas, this is not frequently what we hear. And forget the foreign sexy accent and passionate breathless speaking! Now, please, don’t get me wrong. I am not saying men never step up to the plate and throw out a good one over a romantic dinner or interlude. Greeting cards were likely invented to help men out on important occasions. Also, I have a lot of great female friends, including myself, who enjoy a cold brew and carb-filled snacks while ESPN loudly fills the air with the season’s playoff game du’jour. Generally speaking we are different creatures with different desires. The communicating of our love for one another is frequently an area where it is hard to meet. I am glad my husband loves me because I am his best friend. I know a lot of couples who do not share that type of relationship and we always wonder what the heck they are doing together. Love is a verb, an action word. Who the hell cares what romantic statements are left to the romance novels when I have a guy SHOWING me how he feels? Who else will wake up from a deep sleep and rub my back to ease pains from cramps or indigestion? Who else holds me and comforts me and assures me I am indeed not the crazy one when I’ve been victimized by family, friends, or the mean guy in line at the grocery store? Who else has helped me clean puke off the rug when our son thought the bucket of chicken was a serving size challenge? Who painted our bedroom before I had a major surgery so I could recover in a more aesthetically pleasing environment? Who cried with relief when the doctor’s didn’t find cancer during that same surgery? Who wanted me to have his baby so badly that he patiently waited over a decade until I was ready? My husband did, that’s who. We laugh together and fight together. We dream together and share disappointments as well as triumphs. He kisses me goodbye every morning before leaving for work and kisses me again when he comes home at night. We text message throughout the day and share our best “guess what happened…” stories for our daily reunion. When we have to be apart, we save the phone call for right before bed to share the day and be the last person to say goodnight to each other. How cool is it to get to do all the things we have to do in life with your best friend? As fun as it is to vacation together, win on a lottery ticket, go to dinner or the movies, watch our son play football or go to his first dance, be enthralled by our new baby or laugh at the new things she is exploring and learning ….those are the easy things to enjoy alone or with anyone. Without a doubt, there is nobody I’d rather have by my side for the end of a bad day, the phone call you never want to get, a scary diagnosis from the doctor or any of the curve balls life throws our way that we’re never quite prepared for. My husband will probably never ask me why I love him, after all that would be a gate opener for a deep and meaningful discussion about our emotions, but if he ever did- I would tell him “Because. Because you are my best friend”.

Forgive Yourself: You Are Worth It.

Have you ever seen a baby see themselves in a mirror for the first time, and realize that it is them? It is amazing, and hilarious. They are completely enamored with the reflection of themselves. As children become toddlers, and even up until early, but later, stages of development, they are completely consumed with their image if a mirror is present. I actually commented to a friend, just earlier today at our daughter's dance class, that I was surprised they were able to teach anything to a bunch of six year olds in front of a full wall of mirrors. We start out in life so pure we know nothing more than to simply love ourselves. Something happens along the journey of life to chip away at our self-love, and sometimes too many things happen to us, and it destroys our ability to do so completely.

I was looking in the mirror the other day to check my hair, or something vain, or critical, before I left the house, and my daughter asked me; "Mommy, are you smiling at yourself in the mirror?" I paused and looked at her, because I knew I had been doing anything but smiling at myself. I half-smiled and looked down at her beautiful little face and said, "I should smile at myself in the mirror more often. Thank you for reminding me of that, sweetheart." It was a painful reminder of my ongoing effort to practice and learn self-love. I am still quite a work in practice.

About a year or two ago, I practiced an exercise in self-love where one is to place childhood pictures of themselves around their home, or office, or any personal space. The idea is to see the pictures and remember yourself as the innocent human being you once were, completely worthy of love, and untainted by life. It sort of worked, as far as helping me to view myself as a once innocent human being, but I was tainted by the ugliness of life quite early on in my developmental years. I was extremely damaged in my ability to be able to love myself, to the point of literally hating myself for most of my life. There have been many things which have helped me put more focus on repairing this damage, one main thing being the birth of my daughter. I do not want to raise a woman who does not love herself, because those women only do further damage to their being. It is a vicious cycle, self-hatred. It feeds itself, and grows, and fosters further disappointments and despair. It can happen to men too. Nobody is immune to emotional damage.

I have been on this journey to learn to love myself for a few years. I marvel at the people with such self-esteem it borders on narcissism. I often struggle to determine if people are genuinely that healthy in their ego, or so damaged that they only appear, or pretend, to possess a love of self. Sometimes the most seemingly self-loving people actually despise themselves the most. It is a very fine line, and often hard to decipher.
One of the things that has helped me to grow in my endeavor of self-love, is being able to see myself in my little girl. I watch her smile and laugh, so full of innocence and love, and I tell myself I must have been like her at some time. The childhood pictures show that I appeared to be, but we all know that photographs do not always show the full picture.
I have so many things I am not proud of. So many experiences and life events where I can look back and say nothing but, "if only..." which do not matter; they can never be changed. I have been filled with shame and self-loathing for too many things, and for far too long. I have had to decide that I am not a victim, nor am I necessarily a perpetrator. I just "was". I lived my life, shit happened. I dealt with it the best I was able to at the time, just as we all do. And so, I struggle to forgive myself for my mistakes. I struggle to not view myself as a bad person, in place of a damaged person. I stare into the mirror and wonder how much I can ever truly love myself, and more importantly, forgive myself.

As part of my physical and emotional healing, I recently made a vow to myself to attend regular yoga classes. There is something so different about practicing in a studio free of distractions, as opposed to practicing at home, which can still be quite fulfilling; but not the same. Today I was at the studio, in a new class, with a new teacher I immediately became quite fond of during my first visit to her class. She is an older woman, a matriarch type of figure. She exudes wisdom and positive energy and I am quite attentive to her teachings. As I sat on my mat this morning, taking in her pre-class dialogue, I had a sudden, and severe, mental image of my daughter sitting at her desk at school. My daughter is a "good" little girl. She pays attentions to her teachers, shows respect to her elders and peers, and tries her very best to be pleasing and follow the rules. I sat there in my yoga class, and realized; I am my daughter, and she is me.
I saw the little girl me who was so eager to follow the rules, and please my elders. I saw the little girl me, who followed the directions and said please and thank you. I saw the little girl me, who knew the difference between right and wrong, and did not deserve the wrong life dealt her. I almost began to cry, but instead I focused on my breath and sending love to that little girl. That little girl who grew up to be beaten and taken advantage of by the dirty, sordid, world. The little girl who had so much potential that was never realized, and the feeling of failure she has carried in her soul accordingly. I sent love to the little girl that made so many mistakes along the way, and often felt terrified and confused, with an overwhelming need to please that left her pleasing everyone but her own self. One of the following poses was a self hug, and I hugged myself and whispered within that it was okay. I thought of that little girl, and I thought of my daughter, so sweet and innocent. I wrapped my arms around myself and squeezed them tighter than the yoga instructor likely intended. The little girl buried deep within me responded, and she told me, "thank you".

I am still a massive work in progress. Today was merely a huge stepping stone to my recovery, and I am grateful for it. I have to learn to love that little girl, as much as I love my present-day daughter, and I need to forgive her.
I need to forgive her for the things she has done, the choices she had made, based on the difficult hand of cards she was dealt. That little girl had dreams, and a desire to love and help people. That little girl used to sing into a microphone like a Broadway star, and print signs on her Fisher Price printing set, before her teaching job to a bunch of Cabbage Patch dolls and stuffed animals. I need to forgive the little girl who loved her mommy and daddy, but wondered why they did not seem to love her back. I need to forgive the little girl who became a teenager searching for love, in all the wrong places. I need to forgive the little girl who became a young mother and entered the workforce in place of college like all of her friends. I need to forgive the forty-something woman who still holds all of the shame and guilt in a personal vault of self-loathing.

I breathed in and out on my mat today, and I smiled at the thought of the little girl that still lives within me. I forgive her. I am going to love her. She is absolutely worthy, just as my daughter is.

If you are struggling with self-love, feeling worthy, or stuck in an effort to learn to forgive yourself; do not give up. You are indeed worthy. You are still the same innocent child deep within, and it is not your fault life happened to you. It is what it is. Do not blame yourself, forgive yourself. I hope that you are able to look into the mirror, and truly and genuinely smile at yourself. You should be impressed by what you see. You were created as a beautiful, innocent, soul. Love yourself accordingly and forgive what life has caused.

I'M AN ADULT, BUT I WOULD LOVE A TIME-OUT

I try to be positive and encouraging when I write these posts. That is my main objective: to encourage others, who may be sharing similar struggles, to not give up. Today I am not feeling very inspiring, or encouraging. Frankly, I could use the encouragement.

I am tired of being an adult at the moment. I am tired of the many things weighing down my shoulders, which are ironically still up by my ears from stress. I am tired of weak and hurtful people. I do not have the energy to put out any longer for those who make no effort of their own. I am tired of the non-stop daily grind of dishwashing, laundry, and toilet scrubbing. Oddly enough, these things are also the most satisfying things I often do as they offer the gift of instant gratification. The sink is dirty, I spray it, wipe it down, and boom- shiny, clean, sink! Not much else in life is as easy to bring to an immediate shine.

I am currently on hold with the IRS. My estimated wait time is forty minutes to an hour. I have attempted to make this call at least five times in the past few months. Each time I have called, waited a minimum of forty minutes, and then been told by an automated operator that they are unable to help me before disconnecting my call. That is more than a tiny bit frustrating. I have sent several letters containing photocopies of the documents they have made an error on, and have received multiple responses that clearly represent nobody has actually read my correspondence. To say I am beyond frustrated is an understatement. 

I have another battle concerning my health insurance company and my birth control pill prescription. I am not even going to get into it in detail, but it is another battle I know I need to fight, but do not really have the energy to deal with. That is what they are hoping for, and how they get away with the many surly acts they submit their clients to. This is why I know I must continue to battle them as well.

There is always the regular stress of paying the bills and figuring out how much to give to which debt, and still manage to keep enough in the bank to cover groceries, gas, and maybe being able to do anything fun as a family on the weekends beyond renting a RedBox movie. It seems like everything costs money, and we are experts at finding things to do that are free, or nearly free. I am more grateful than I can express that my family has more financial stability than the true financially desperate times of the past few years. Not many people understand the recovery process is still overwhelming, and a slow one at that. I have to force myself to stop when I find myself focusing on the custody case that emptied our bank account, or the seemingly never-ending days of my husband being out of work. I must look forward and just keep doing the best I can to help us get where we want to be.

I am trying to figure out a way to balance all of these things and still make time for myself. I am sort of emotionally "losing it" at the moment. I believe it is just the ability to finally allow the stress and angst of the past few years to emerge and work it's way out of my being to allow me to fully heal. Healing is hard and can take a long time. I am constantly reminding myself to be patient with myself and accept that I have a form of emotional and mental C-PTSD. 

There are many human relationships that continue to add to the stress and make things more difficult to heal and forgive. I read a quote the other day that said, "I thought when I grew up that adults would act like grown-ups." Brilliantly true. Most of them are still children, wearing suits and high heels, with spoiled-brat mentalities. If I have one more person tell me how they are broke, yet go on vacations as they please and fill their homes with things like big-screen televisions and designer handbags, I may just start screaming like a lunatic right there on the spot. I am tired of people in general thinking they can wipe their dirty feet on me like a doormat and then acting confused when I get upset about it. I am blessed to have a few quality people in my life who are working to be as adult as they are able. I am a strong believer in quality over quantity when it comes to my circle of family and friends.

Being married is not easy, especially when you have been through the wringer, and we are currently doing what feels like a never-ending cha-cha; two steps forward, two steps back. I have given up Zumba until our dance calms down. I worry if I am being a good enough mother for my children as I struggle to devour every day with my little girl while she is still small, and figure out how to rebuild a relationship with a son who is no longer living in my home. A son I was close to for his entire life, and whom I miss very much.

I have been debating finding a job with the meager credentials I have, or pursuing my dream of writing something beyond a blog. Something of much more substance and depth, to be published. Writing is a scary thing to take on. I am afraid of being a failure and then having wasted time I could have been making a paycheck, albeit a small one. I fear not taking the chance even more, and looking back one day and thinking, "I should have....".

I just feel tired. An all-encompassing tired, not just a physical tired.
I recently made a pledge to myself to go to yoga class as often as I am able. I know the time forcing myself to just "be" is an excellent medicine for emotional and physical healing. Running is also an excellent form of meditation for me and I am looking forward to the bright blue skies and crisp cool air of Autumn.

I hope I was not a bummer today, but I just needed to be for real and let you know I struggle too. It will be okay. We all have days where we feel we can conquer the world, and other days where we just want to hide under a blanket. I guess I am in a Linus phase at the moment, where I at least want to carry my blanket around with me.

Dear Nurses, "Thank You" Doesn't Seem Good Enough

One of the most terrifying days of my life was when I was lying on a gurney, being wheeled down a seemingly endless hallway. I was dressed in a hospital gown that would soon be opened to expose my sick body to a roomful of strangers while I was under anesthesia. I had a hospital cap covering my long hair, and could barely see as I had to remove my contact lenses and glasses. The technician pushing my gurney was not very friendly, nor comforting, and I lay there trying not to cry as I watched endless ceiling lights pass by me as I was wheeled to an operating room. 

I was terribly afraid, as I had been told I may have cancer and there was no way to be certain until they cut me open to investigate. I knew there was a strong likelihood that I would wake up without my reproductive organs, although my doctor had assured me she would do her best to save anything she was able to. I thought of how badly my husband of four years, and the love of my life, wanted a baby of our own, and how devastated he may be if I was unable to give him one. I thought of how devastated I would be to lose the option of having his baby. I thought of my own son, who was only twelve years old, and how much he needed his mother at such a precarious age of life. So tough to be twelve for anyone, and the thought of him losing me, and only having his biological father to care for him, was one of the most terrifying fears I held in my heart. 

The technician finally pushed my gurney into the operating room, full of bright lights and medical instruments. My own surgeon was not even present. I was fighting a massive anxiety attack, and praying to God that I would wake up at all, let alone with any of my reproductive organs intact. As I lay there and they moved me to the operating table, it was a nurse who took my hand, rubbed my forehead and assured me she would be there the entire time. It was a nurse who helped me count backwards as the anesthesia took effect and I drifted off into the darkness.

It was a team of nurses who were there when I woke up and had a bad reaction to the anesthesia, which caused everyone to think I may not recover. It was the nurses who talked to my husband and father and brought them back into the post-op triage to see me once they had stabilized me. I saw their terrified faces, and it was the nurses who assured them I was going to be okay. It was the nurses who came in and out of my hospital room twenty-four hours straight for the following few days, taking care of my every need, calling me sweetheart, or joking along with me as I tried to be cheerful. It was a nurse who wheeled me out of the hospital and wished me well when I was finally free to go home.

I am blessed and grateful to say I did not have cancer, but a long overdue diagnosis of endometriosis. It returned within a year and I went to see an out-of-state specialist for a more extensive and thorough surgery to remove as much of the poisonous cells as possible. Once again, it was the nurses who catered to me, cared for me, and made me feel safe. I remember waking up from the second surgery to a lovely woman stroking my hair and telling me how pretty my highlights were. I remember the funny male nurse who was on my room duty and kept insisting I was partially Asian, like he was. It was the nursing staff who cheered me on and kept calling me a rock star, as I took lap after lap around the unit floor to prevent pain from the gas they filled me with, and to increase my rate of recovery. It was the nurses who brought me endless cups of ice chips when I was forbidden to eat anything else.

Thanks to the doctors and the nurses who took care of me, I was able to give my husband that baby he desired. Once again, the nurses were my earthly saviors on that day. I will never forget the beautiful young woman who monitored my every contraction and stayed attentive to my every need. My own doctor missed the birth as she thought she had time to grocery shop while I was in labor and a substitute resident took over the actual delivery, almost dropping my baby due to her inexperience. The beautiful young woman who was my nurse is the one who made me feel safe during that experience. She is the one who convinced me it was okay to give my baby formula in place of breast milk that had not come in yet. She lovingly fed my baby her first bottle, and cared for her as if she were the most precious baby in the world. It was the nurses who helped me get to the bathroom, treat my stitches, get a shower, took my baby when they could tell I needed some sleep, and cooed and ahhed with me over the new miracle baby girl in my arms. It was the nurses who came into the room when my husband was attempting to change his first diaper and things did not go so well.

It is the nurses who have the unpleasant job of giving my daughter vaccinations so the doctor is not the feared figure. It is the nurses who do the unpleasant tests that involve long cotton swabs, urine, and needles.

It is nurses who often struggle with their own health and well-being because they spend endless and exhausting hours caring for so many others. It is nurses who keep the charts for the doctors and must have the same knowledge of the many medical terms and conditions. It is the nurses who work long, endless, days, and even longer nights.

I have had a fair amount of medical issues and have a thick medical history file. I could go on and share even more experiences, but what I want to share is a thank you. Thank you to every man or woman who has made the decision to not just take care of others who are sick, or injured; but who make those same people feel cared for, and feel cared about.
You are truly angels that walk this earth. Thank you, and God bless you all.

They Handed Me the Scissors

Fairly recently, a new friend turned on me, suddenly and viciously. Honestly, it was not that surprising once I thought about who the person had already shown me they are. Selfish, spoiled, people are usually exactly that, no matter how much we may try to convince ourselves otherwise. We all do that; ignore who and what we know people truly are, in hopes that they will somehow magically morph into the people we want them to be. I immediately addressed the fact with this person that they had been hurtful and out of line. I pointed out that I had been nothing but supportive and loving to them since the beginning of our friendship. I then told them I was deciding to forgive them, and ended the friendship. 

Another friend, who has been a friend for many years, recently hurt me as well. Once again, I went straight to my friend and shared my hurt. I was told I was taking things to a level that shocked them, which in translation means they were refusing to take ownership of their part in hurting me. I have not ended that friendship, but that was strike two in a three year span that has shown me I have been correct to guard my heart with that person, and will do so even more in the future. I have two sisters I have had to distance myself from in the past year as well, and it makes me so much more sad than anyone would imagine. My tolerance has lowered immensely for people who are unable to acknowledge their part in hurting my heart, or who seem to think they are able to go through life treating others like garbage. People who are unable to make time for me in their life, or make me feel dismissed, are no longer people I will make any effort towards having in my life.

I am grateful for my lowered tolerance of others in this sense. I am grateful, because it is evidence of growth in my own self-worth, and self-love. I have been a doormat for most of my life and it has always hurt and frustrated me. I have been kind, giving, generous, loving, and repeatedly taken advantage of and hurt. I have been violated in almost every way possible at the minds, and hands, of others. I finally reached a point of realization that this was a chronic issue, because I allowed it.
No more.

I have cut an overwhelming amount of people from my life over the past few years, and to be honest, I have no regrets. They were all toxic and negative forces bringing me down. I want to be surrounded by people who lift me up and help me to be my best self, not some watered down version of myself, or my worst self. It may seem to some that I am cold-hearted and unforgiving, but I assure you this is not true. I am guilty, if anything, of having been overly forgiving in the past, to many, and it has been hurtful to me. I cannot allow myself to be hurt any longer, and am learning to protect myself.

My life has not been an easy journey, and the last four years almost destroyed me. Both my husband and I reached a point, separately, of seriously contemplating suicide due to the level of absolute distress the last four years caused us. People seemingly do not understand, or take us seriously, when we attempt to share just how damaged we were by what we went through. Neither one of us truly wanted to end our lives, we wanted to end our pain and suffering. That absolutely breaks my heart, but I am happy to say we are on a shared path to recovery, and somehow fought through those dark and overwhelming days. We have literally been fighting for our lives and therefore, do not have the time and energy for other people's issues. We certainly do not have the time and energy for people who expel negative energy, play games, and drag us down. We are kind and loving people, but we are not doormats, or punching bags. 

I genuinely desire to possess a heart capable of loving the most flawed and hurtful human beings. It is what every great spiritual guru teaches; love is the greatest gift to give, and the greatest healer of heartache. When we are able to love, forgiveness is easy. What is not easy, is to love, or forgive, people who are continually causing pain and distress in our lives. I have found it much easier to focus on forgiving those who are hurtful, and allowing my heart to feel love for them, once I have removed them from my life. Not everyone gets to be a part of my life, and now that I value myself more, I understand this better.

When doctors finds cancer in a body, the immediate plan of action, when possible, is to cut it out. Nobody ever argues with the doctor and asks them to leave the cancer inside, where it can fester and grow, and make us even more sick, or die. So many of us allow people who are soul-cancers to stay in our lives, and they make us sick. They affect our lives, our well-being, our state of mind, even our physical health. Not only do we allow these cancer-humans to remain in our lives, we make excuses for them as to why they should get to stay. I have never heard anyone defending a cancerous tumor and say it could stay, because after all, it is a cancerous tumor. It is not its fault that it is causing damage, that is just what cancerous tumors do. We protect our bodies, but allow much damage to our souls.

I encourage you to take a good look at your life and see if the people around you are lifting you up, or dragging you down. It is often not easy to walk away from toxic people in our lives, it can even seem almost impossible, but it is more difficult when we allow them to stay. Life is short and often quite difficult to navigate. I personally want people who put wind into my sails, not people working overtime to make me capsize into stormy waters. Now that I have recognized my self-worth, I have begun to attract others into my life who recognize it too. I wish the same for you. You too, are worthy.

Leave a Lasting Legacy

One day last week, I was having a rough day, for multiple reasons. My daughter is an insanely intuitive little girl with an enormous capacity for compassion, a true gift she is. She had been watching me struggle through the day, and had been giving me extra hugs and kisses here and there, with ongoing reassurances that she loves me, and I am a great mommy. At one point I thanked her pointedly and told her how much her support to me had meant that day. She replied, "You are a great mommy! You teach me all about everything, but you also teach my mind and my heart. Life is really hard, Mommy, and you are doing a good job to help me learn that!" 

What the....six years old. How on Earth God ever thought I was equipped to raise a child as aware as my daughter is beyond me. I struggle to balance the things she needs to know to be prepared for the world and it's ugliness, as much as the things I never want her to have to know, but certainly are not to be known until a later age.

Most of the mornings I wake up to any given news page, or even a social media feed, are mornings I wish I myself could become a small and more innocent child once again. I can barely read the headlines without feeling sick to my stomach, and of course the media loves to encourage the negative aspects of the world which can make the world seem like a very dark and ugly place. In many ways it is. It is a terrifying and scary place, and letting our children even go to school has created an anxiety in many parents that is unprecedented. Nobody likes to talk about the fact that they fear for their children's lives every day they have to stick them on a school-bus, or the fact that going to a movie could be the last thing you ever do if you go on the same day as a psychopathic mass-murderer. There are countless cities and towns, right here in The United States, where people are dying from diseases caused by dirty drinking water, and children are starving. There are countless cities and towns where mothers, and fathers, are afraid of their children being shot or killed, just because of the place they live in, or the color of their skin, or even because of who they are in love with.

It is pretty damn hard raising children you love more than anything you could ever imagine loving, and wanting to protect them with every ounce of your being, yet having to subject them to the world we live in. Even more terrifying is when we begin to realize that we are not able to be with them every step of their way. Protecting our children, even in our own homes, is an illusion many parents fight to believe they are capable of. The only way to let them live, is to let them go.

 

I have an older child who is now out in the world, on his own, and struggling to figure things out. He is a bit of a mess, as most of us were as young adults, and yet I already view him as a complete success as a human being. He is trying to figure out how to be a functioning adult, without the help of his parents, and learning how to do all the things required to obtain the future he wants to have. There are many things my son has left to learn, and while I would love to still hold his hand, and help him, I have taught him almost everything I have been able to teach him. He has also learned many things, and often because of me, that I wish he would not have learned, at least not while so young.

I would like to share exactly what makes my son a success as a human being, and why as many times I may have failed as a mother, I constantly remind myself to believe I did a good job overall.

My son is not a bigot, or a racist. He holds doors, and says please and thank you. My son is a hard worker who knows things are not just given to any of us in life, unless we have a silver spoon in our mouth. He also knows that many people who are sucking on silver spoons often have tarnished souls. My son is a loyal person, and he is not a liar. He has an overwhelming compassion for the less fortunate, and has made it one of his life-goals to work with the mentally and physically challenged community. He does not like politicians who do not care about the majority, and understands that respect is something earned, and control is a tool for weak leaders. Thanks to an endless supply of poor examples along our family journey, he has assuredly learned not to put any person in positions of leadership on a pedestal, unless he wants to feel the pain when they fall. The biggest thing I am most proud of however, is that my husband (his step-father) and I have raised a human being who is different than most. Someone who can add a light to the world in place of increasing the darkness of it. Even better, we raised him to be a good and decent human being while sharing custody with someone who was a constant example of evil, and did their best to make our personal world a very dark place. That is indeed a huge personal triumph, and an example of what I believe success means.

The 21 years of time I was gifted to help guide my little boy into adulthood went passing by like a speeding train. Many of those years did not feel like they were going quickly while I was living them, but looking back seems like a movie trailer, flashing memories that show our entire story at top speed. I will always be his momma, but my years of hands-on care and center-of-his-world influence are long gone. I am learning to make peace with it, even on the days it rips my heart into shreds and I wish I had more time with him. Time to do more, be more, teach more. I did the best I could raising my son, and as messed up, troubled, distracted, young, or any of the things any of us are that make us question ourselves as parents; I was better than I ever thought. I was honest with him, to a fault, and he never, ever, ever, ever, doubted my love for him. My husband joined our family when my son was four years old and always loved him as his own. We have helped add a good human being to society, and now have the gift of getting to do it all over again.

This world is full of sadness and horrors, and many of us struggle to process it. I know so many people who spend too much of their time focusing on these negatives, and it affects them deeply. An overload of dismal news leaves our souls filled with anxiety and fear, and provokes efforts do anything we are able to have control. I have been guilty of this myself many times throughout my life. We must defend our mental and spiritual well-being by focusing on the positives. I am much older now as I am raising my little girl, but I am not really any less fearful, or anxious, about her than I was about her brother. If anything, I am more fearful and anxious, because I view the evil of the world as an even greater threat to females. I survive though, because more than I fear the evil, I embrace the good. The world does have an abundance of beauty in it. It is our job not only to seek this beauty out, but to create it.

The absolute divine gift of parenthood, is being able to contribute to the beauty and the good. Nobody cares if your kid gets into the best schools in the world, and makes millions of dollars, if they are an asshole. Nobody cares how much you taught your kids about any given religion if they walk around full of judgment and piousness. It is definitely not a positive addition to the world to raise human beings who commit crimes in the name of religion, or spread hatred. What most people are at their core, is exactly what they raise their children to be as well. We cannot ignore the influence of nurture or nature when it comes to humanity.

If you are not a parent yourself, you undoubtedly have access and influence to young people in your life. I encourage you, along with those of you who do have your own children, to do your best to make a difference in the lives of the children you are blessed to have influence over. Encourage them and lift them up at every opportunity you are given. Always be an example of goodness, and remember they are watching you, whether you think they are or not. Be an example of gratitude and giving, even when you feel there is not much to be thankful for, or to share. I strongly encourage being honest and open with the children in your life, they almost never ask questions they are not ready to hear the answers to. Tell them things, at an appropriate level of sharing, while they are young enough to absorb them without prejudice. Share your views of the world, but encourage them to question things and form their own thoughts and opinions. They are their own amazing little humans, after all.

I struggle to share these things because while I am proud of my family, I do not profess perfection in any way. In fact, it is because of the absolute lack of perfection that causes me to feel pride at all. Somehow, we did it. Somehow in the midst of our own mess as struggling and striving adults, my husband and I still turned out a more than decent human being. I give much credit to God/The Universe as well since we prayed more than people would ever imagine. I give credit to the family and friends who helped us survive during the storms life has thrown our way. I do not ever claim to be the sole reason my son has turned out to be an amazing human being, but I do claim some of the credit. I am blessed to know there have been multiple other children I have been able to love and influence along my journey as well. My husband and I have helped love and care for many children in our lives over the years, as well as my working professionally with many children who desperately needed love and a positive influence. I have no idea how many more may be in my, or our, future, but I will do my best to help them learn to shine their lights if I am blessed to do so.

Ghandi said, "Be the change you wish to see in the world". I say to be the change, and also teach the children in your life to be that difference as well.

Hang Ten

I have always admired surfers, and enjoy watching them as they paddle out into the deep waters to catch waves. I could probably manage to learn to balance on a surfboard, and even possibly catch a wave or two, but surfers also go out very deep into the ocean waters. Where sharks swim. I don't like sharks and therefore my likelihood of ever wanting to learn to surf are slim. I will enjoy the beach and cheer on anyone else doing it, but I'll stick to running on land as my thing. We can love our own thing and still have a great appreciation for what others love.
I was debating over writing the post forming in my mind about surfing as I opened my laptop, yesterday when I began writing, to discover it was the 125th birthday of Duke Kahanamoku; "The Father of Modern Surfing".  http://www.dukekahanamoku.com/

I would be silly to not recognize that as a sign, so surf's up!

Many things which look easy once mastered by others, are not a bit easy to actually do ourselves. Surfing is definitely one of those things. I am not a surfer, as I mentioned, so this is more of a "surfing for dummies" type of post. I am not writing to help anyone learn more about surfing, but rather what I understand of it, and how its principles relate to have soulful success in life as well.

1. Surfers embrace the moment.
Most surfers are known as generally laid-back people. You know what the stereotype is, "Duuuuude". There is a great understanding, once someone can become one with something as massively powerful as the ocean, of the bigger picture in life which helps attain ease in the soul of a human being. If you stop and think about it, most great spiritual leaders of positivity and enlightenment possess the same understanding.

2. Surfers respect the power of the ocean (as something greater than themselves).
If you are going to take a ginormous board into the ocean with you and nothing else, you had better understand and respect what you are, literally, getting into. The ocean floor is made of constantly shifting sand which in turn causes waves to rise and crash intermittently. The waves alone are something to contend with, never mind riptides and sea creatures. Surfers do not enter the water to be greater than it, they enter it to become a part of it. There are too many people walking the earth who believe they are greater than it, and not accepting their role as merely an organism contributing to the greater organism; our planet. The planet is able to do the same thing the ocean can do to surfers, swallow them up or spit them out. We need to respect what is greater than ourselves, and not be arrogant beings. Our survival depends upon it.

3.You have to decide you want it more than you are afraid of it.
I mentioned above that I have an issue with possibly getting eaten by sharks. In order for me to learn to surf, I must overcome that fear. The only way to overcome that fear is for my desire to surf to become greater than my fear of becoming shark food. This is one of the biggest and most important points, and it relates back to my most recent previous post. If we never get into the water, we will never catch a wave. I may never learn to surf, but there definitely some big life-waves I need to catch to fulfill my dreams. I have to get into the water though, and not let my fear keep me from my big waves.

4. Surfers accept that they will be beat up by the waves, and they must keep paddling.
Surfers paddle pretty far out into the ocean in order to catch the larger, surf-worthy, waves. Getting in and out of the water is one of the most dangerous parts of surfing, because of the waves in the break zone. Most of us are familiar with this section of the ocean from our family vacations to the beach. We know that even one or two feet of water can produce a wave strong enough to knock us off our feet. Surfers must paddle on their boards through these rough waves, and the larger the waves in the waters, the stronger the break zone usually is. What an obvious yet poignant metaphor for life it is; never stop paddling until you get through the break zone. Life can feel like the break zone more than most of us enjoy. We cannot make it to the calmer waters by allowing ourselves to be pummeled by the break zone, we must keep paddling until we are through it. Even if we arrive with water up our nose and have been tossed around to the point of discomfort. There are always calmer waters beyond the break zone where surfers stop to rest and float until the green, or unbroken, waves begin to form.

5. Always fall flat and protect your head.
When you know you are going to wipe out, which is inevitable from time-to-time, the rule is to fall flat and protect your head. You don't want to dive or go feet first, because you never know what is beneath you in the water. You do not want to dive head or feet first into anything dangerous, such as shallow water, or rocks. Falling flat and covering your head ensures that you will allow your body to be carried along with the force of the water while protecting your head from being harmed by an ocean floor, or your surf board. Sometimes we wipe out in life too, and until we know what we are dealing with, or where we are going to end up; basic safety needs to prevail before we can figure out how to get back on track.

6. If a wave is too big to be hit by, get underneath it.
This is especially true in the break zone. Sometimes there are waves coming at us that are so huge we cannot paddle through them. They are stronger than we are, they are perhaps even dangerous. When the surface is too rough in the ocean, it is always calmer below. Life can throw some really crazy stuff our way. Sometimes we see it coming and can duck below the surface to protect ourselves the best we are able. We may still get tossed around a bit in the water, but it is never as bad as being hit full-on by a strong wall of water. When life hits us unexpectedly, revert to rule number four and fall flat as you cover your head.


7. First to the crest goes first.
Once you beat the heavy waves, you reach the calm seas and have a while to relax, catch your breath, and prepare to catch a wave you can surf back to shore. If you have ever watched a group of surfers waiting out in the water, you may have noticed there is surfer etiquette, as it is not safe for everyone to try to catch the same wave at the same time. The surfers will line up and the surfer closest to the crest, which is the beginning swell of a green (unbroken) wave, goes first. Again, sometimes in life we have fought our way through the break zone and are ready and waiting for the wave we want to catch, and it is not our turn. We may miss the wave we should have ridden, or we may have to keep floating on our boards and watch many others catch their waves until it is our turn. I am an admitted late bloomer and I often wonder when it is going to be my turn at the crest. I have watched tons of others catch and ride some amazing waves and I am eager for it to be my turn. Until then though, I must submit to the surfers ahead of me, and patiently float on my board.


8. Be Ready.
When it is finally your turn at the crest, you better be ready to catch your wave. This is the only time you turn around, because you are now going to paddle with the wave, and jump on your board to take control. Getting into a standing position on one's surfboard, from lying on one's belly, is known as the pop-up. It requires a quick and well practiced motion of full body control. Once a surfer has 'popped-up', they must be in the proper stance of bent knees, and outstretched arms, in order to maintain balance and counter the motion of the water. The action of popping up and proper stance are best practiced many times on dry land before being attempted in the water. Once in the water, these moves should be practiced before attempting to catch a wave. Life is usually easier and more enjoyable when we are prepared and properly trained as well. Whatever life-goal it is that you may have, make sure you are as informed and trained as you are able so when your wave comes, you are ready to ride it to the best of your ability.

9. Let go, and enjoy the ride.
You have gained an understanding of the powers greater than you. You have taken the beating by the break zone. You have wiped out, protected your head, and learned to duck the huge waves when you see them coming. You have practiced endless pop-ups and perfected your stance of bent knees and ever-reaching arms. You have waited and waited in the peaceful waters for your turn at the crest. Your wave has finally arrived and you have done everything possible to be ready. You swim along with the beginning of the swell and pop-up in perfect timing just as the wave begins to break. Now is when you let go and enjoy the ride. It is not that you are not in control of yourself and your board, but you are suddenly working in tandem with the power of the wave. Instead of it pushing you around, you are using its momentum for your own use, of absolute pleasure. If you ever see a surfer who has just caught a good wave, you can often see the definition of exhilaration on their face. We often work so hard in life to reach our goals, whatever they may be, but once we achieve them we forget to enjoy the ride. Which is insane. You would never see a surfer go through all of that and not enjoy riding their wave. We should take heed of that message as well and remember that we have worked hard and are allowed to enjoy riding the waves.

10. Every day on the water is a good day.
Surfers are known for getting out on the water as often as they are able. Not every wave is surfed back to shore, not every wave is the huge pipeline dream-wave of epic surfer movies, but every day is still a good day on the water. I have not caught my dream-wave yet, but I sure have caught some good waves along the way so far. We need to appreciate the waves we have been able to enjoy riding. Society tells us if we aren't riding the big waves we are not a success. I dare suggest if we are able to enjoy the smaller waves, we are an even bigger success. Some days, I know I am just happy to be at the beach and have no interest in catching any waves.

I hope this metaphorical surfing post has helped anyone at all. Of all the points listed, I am going to leave you with one last thought, and it is probably the most important: Life is not a surfing competition. Not every wave is meant to be surfed, and not every wave is meant for us. Catch the ones you can, go after the ones you really want, and most of all, enjoy the journey. Even when you are in the break zone. We are not able to stop the waves from coming, but we can absolutely learn to surf.
Hang ten my friends. Thanks for reading.