Where To Next?

“It is the peculiar nature of the world to go on spinning no matter what sort of heartbreak is happening” –Sue Monk Kidd

It is taking more effort than it should to get behind the wheel of the Karma Truck.  And yet I also know that there is nothing worse for any piece of machinery than to leave it idle for too long.  The same is true of the heart.  I haven’t been sleeping well, unable to release this sorrow of incalculable proportion.  I admire and envy those who are mobilizing in word and deed to address the gaping hole in the safety net for people with mental health concerns, others who have driven to Newtown with the intent to help however possible, the anonymous individuals who are doing something – anything – to remind us above all else of the power of shared humanity.

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The heart forgets little – and perhaps remembers too much.  Moments of grief are greeted by past moments of mourning.  These thoughts huddle together commiserating, taking up space and time.  Demanding their due, yet if unchecked, unbearably relentless and too oppressive to manage.  I need to take the keys back and get this motor started.

“If it is true your life flashes before you before you die, then it is also true that life rushes forth when you are ready to start being alive” — Amy Hemple

There are certainly times when we need to crawl inside ourselves and heal.  Moments when the most elemental activities seem Sisyphean.  And there are times when you have to purposefully pull yourself back into life.  I am blessed, I am grateful and I need to come home to that which I know and all that I don’t.  I still have tears to shed – I’m clearly not done.  The fog that has socked in this region for the last two days is beginning to lift; I saw a couple of stars through the clouds when I was out with the Sirs earlier today.  I said a little prayer and breathed deeply.  There is something to be said for remembering that there is grace in most things, if one is open to its presence.  Perhaps I’ll only make it around the block today, but I’ll surely drive towards the sun.

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It’s All About Perspective

“How many slams in an old screen door?

Depends how loud you shut it.

How many slices in a bread?

Depends how thin you cut it.

How much good inside a day?

Depends how good you live ‘em.

How much love inside a friend?

Depends how much you give ‘em.” — Shel Silverstein

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We can make life so complicated, can’t we?  Sometimes it just helps to bring it back to the basics – like breathing.  Are our breaths long and full, interrupted with a giggle or even a belly laugh?  Or do we tend to breathe in short inhalations and exhalations, anticipating our next moves before completing the steps right in front of us?  We know which is better for us, I guess it just depends on how important it is to us.

Today I’m off for my ‘barn’ tour.  I am hoping to volunteer with an organization called “Lift Me Up” – their mission involves the use of animal therapy (primarily horses) when working with developmentally challenged children and young adults.  It feels like a good fit for me on many levels – having experience with people who have unique needs (I’m not talking about attorneys here) and horses.  It’s time to pay a little rent for the gift of being here in the first place – and this is also a way to up my happy quotient.

How hard can it be to embrace your day?

Depends how hard you hug it.

How fully can you live your life?

Depends what you put in it

How much joy can you find in a day

Depends on how you see it.

Have a good day all – find delight.

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A Magical Moment

I hesitated to post this video – primarily because so many people may have viewed it already.  Yet the more who view it the better – for the way it makes you feel your heart beating,  for the glimpse of beauty for which language has yet to adequately evolve, for the chance to feel that you are witnessing a magical moment.  Happy Friday all..

I Love Oreo Cookies

Please note, I didn’t say I love Nabisco – I know nothing about the company, I concede that Oreo cookies are made of few natural ingredients and if consumed in massive quantities may erode one’s digestive track and certainly they can leave embarrassing clues on your teeth if you don’t wash them down with something.

I love Oreos because they don’t fall apart when you dunk them in milk.  Oreos are tough, even though the stuff in the middle always stays soft (but never so soft that it falls into your glass mid-dunk).   I carried two bags of Double Stuff Oreos in my suitcase when I flew to Riyadh, and not one broke  (another story for another day – it was for work, and yes, I looked more than a little ridiculous in an abaya which I kept tripping over because there was no opportunity to get a normally sized one adjusted for a short woman, and blond hair poking out of a hijab didn’t help me achieve anonymity).  That says less for my packing skills than it does for the cookies.  I’m tellin’ you – Oreos are the unsung heroes of Cookiedom.

And I stand (ok, sit) before you today – the metaphoric Oreo.  Yet somehow it doesn’t make me a hero among humankind, so please don’t view this as a flight of egoistic folly.

I’m a pretty tough cookie on the outside (get it? already the parallels begin to present themselves).  Retrospectively, it took a pretty tough exterior to pick up an almost two-year old and four-year old and leave a toxic situation and have no job, no support system in the area, and no idea what the tomorrows would hold.  What I had was an unbreakable belief that I was going to do right by my babies and figure the rest out later.  No heroics here, just survival.  And no perfect endings for there aren’t any – I made sure there was an account just to cover their therapy bills (I’m sorta kidding about this guys – there’s no account with some hidden cash in it).  And at night when they were asleep, I would sit in their room just to listen to them breathe, because it allowed me to be as vulnerable as they were.

There isn’t a lot of room for the creamy filling on-the-inside when you’re working in a mega-firm either.  There’s too much emphasis on the ‘mega’ and my office was the place where people came when they needed to emote, not for me to emote.  Compassionate?  You bet.  Concerned?  To a neurotic fault.  Invested?  To my toes.  But if there needed to be a hard-core, put-your-head-down-and-just-keep-going kinda gal – I was pretty damn good at that.  Fall apart?  Not in front of anyone – that wasn’t part of the equation.  Not because I am a woman, because law firms like the ‘play hurt persona’.  They like the exterior that won’t fall apart no matter the hours, disaffection or compromised values.

And there’s definitely a need to be Oreo-like if you don’t want people to see that you have a body that is constantly fighting with itself.  That’s just way too boring.

I will crack a joke (and they’re often quite good by the way), sound like Pollyanna, and never admit that I’ve lost the part of the sandwich that keeps the icing inside.  Yup. Love those Oreos..Someone recently wrote me and said “you know, this is a two-way deal – you can talk to me about what’s going on with you too”.  I love her dearly – and find the prospect of such disclosure so  hard.  I’m better in the other role, the ‘I want to see you happy role’.  And you know?  I’ve gotta get over this a bit – enough so that I develop enough affection for myself that I can be something other than perpetually ok.  And my hunch is you do too (admit it, you’re nodding aren’t you?)

For at the end of the day, I do break like everybody else.  I feel slights as much as the next person and though I rarely acknowledge it, can feel completely broken by another’s thoughtless action.  Perhaps it’s why I pursue kindness so passionately, maybe that’s why I rail against communication that can be obfuscated and misunderstood – because I don’t want there to be hurt – intentional or unintentional.  Petulant and childish – I know.  But maybe there is something to it.   I can be a tough cookie when it comes to dealing with the curve ball that can be thrown when one’s health is always compromised;  when a crisis arises, I want me there;  if someone needs another to have his/her back – turn around – I’m there.  I have to learn that sometimes it’s important to ask someone else to have mine.

So when all is said and done…and I occasionally look at the losses or the hurts, the foul plays and the cheap shots, the downs that have to accompany the many ups –  I realize that perhaps it’s time to develop an affection for another type of carb…I think at core, I am really…a Twinkie. And I think, I’m going to be ok with that, though I’ll probably have to go to the gym more often.