Friday, August 18, 2017

Headed


Acceptance.

It is such an interesting word.  And it means so many things, all depending on who you are.

College acceptance letter.
Acceptance of family members lifestyles that do not jive with our own.
Acceptance of losses, whether family, job, dream, whatever kind of loss.

Sometimes it is a happy thing.  We are accepted into a program or college we are so excited about.

Sometimes it is a complicated thing.  A sibling walks away from the life the whole family has built to pursue their own course, and everyone is left wondering what happened and who is right, if anyone. 

Sometimes it is the only way to move forward.  Someone we love dies, leaving our hearts broken.  We get fired, and wonder how we will take care of our family.  We find out that we cannot have kids, and wonder if the universe thinks we will be terrible parents.   At some stage we learn to accept and allow our selves to heal from these kinds of trauma, but they do their best to kill us first.

Usually when we talk about acceptance, it has to do with bad things, hard things, things that push us to our limits and make us wonder if there is anything good out there for us; or are we doomed to a life of hard things, of moments that make us wonder what comes next, knowing that it can get worse.

And yes, I am aware that that is a run-on sentence. I accept it.

Perhaps in the end it does all mean the same thing; acceptance means moving forward, moving on.  Seeing the past only as somewhere we have been, but not where we are, and most definitely not where we are headed. 

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Understanding (or rather the lack therof)

I am feeling....strange this week.

Strange is not quite right, but it is al close as I can come just at the moment.  The weather has been all over the place, and my mood seems to mimic that. 

Do you ever have a moment where you catch a glimpse of yourself in a mirror and have to look again, because the person you see is you, but not you at the same time?

That happened to me today.  I had to look again, because the woman I saw is one I have only seen a few times in my life; she is the woman I want to be.  She is the voice in my head telling me that there is a better way, a higher way, than the way I am taking now.  She tells me that I can get there, she tells me to keep going, especially when things are hardest. 

I have been thinking a great deal recently about what it means to be an adult.  I will be thirty-one this summer, and have a sister who is ten years my junior.  She is emphatic about how she Is An Adult, capital letters audible.  I know, without a doubt, that I felt rather the same way when I was her age, but I am not sure I was so rude about it.  I understand her desire to not be treated like a child, she is not one.  But, again, I am not sure she really knows what it means to be an adult either.  She demands to be heard, but does not listen.  She hates that our mother is passive aggressive, but uses the same tactics in a manner that seems so calculated, which our mother has not.

She and I had a fight recently, and she was asserting that she had a right to defend herself, but refused to allow that I had the same right.  I admit that I was very angry and tired, and am certain I was coming across much more harshly than I intended, but was not attacking.  She attacked me before I finished a sentence, sure of what was coming out of my mouth.  My tone was wrong, but she was wrong to attack.  And I got defensive, when I should have walked away.  I knew I was wrong, and I apologized for being angry.  She kept yelling. 

It is almost funny, she sees that she had to defend herself, but cannot see that my angry response was me defending myself. 

That woman I saw in the mirror today, the one I want to be, she would know what to do.  She would know how to let go and move on. 

But I am not her, and I am having the hardest time letting go of this. 

I am so tired of being misunderstood, and of not being able to fully understand. 

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Thoughts on January

My brain was half way through a really good post, but I really needed to finish the dishes.

And as I finally sat down to write, my brain turned off.

*sighs heavily*

And this is bizarrely indicative of my life just now.  Too many things going on;  too many thoughts, too many emotions, too many, too many, too many.

To say I am overwhelmed is an understatement; to say I am exhausted to the point of wondering if one can die from anxiety and expectation is much closer to reality. 

I hate January.  We are getting record amounts of snow, and I am getting sick of the temperature being in the single digits.  I am a lizard, according to my husband;  I look fore warm spots, preferably in the sun, and bask.  There is a possibly I am a cat, since my kitties are the same way.  I suppose the telling point is that I am always cold, which I do not think my girls are.  I will also say that I do recognize that there are places that get much colder (I remember waking up in college on multiple occasions to the very chipper voice of a radio morning show host saying it was only -25, which was up from the previous day, -30.) but that does not make me any happier about temperatures that hover around 0.

Either way, I hate January. 

With today being the last day of the month, I really need to work on this hatred, as it in not helpful to me or to my next few months.  And it is not really the fault of January; the fault is really mostly mine for choosing to live in a climate that has a tendency for cold winters and hot summers. 

And this is only one of my too many things going on right now.  The rest I cannot even bring myself to talk about, since my current response to them is to get angry or to start crying. 

And right now, I do not have the energy for either of those things.

*sighs heavily again*

My shoulders are getting tense.  I think it is time for mindfulness practice.