anxiety – Page 4 – Waiting for the Karma Truck

Coming Full Circle, Sort Of..

January 24, 2013 mimijk

My sister and brother-in-law are in the midst of moving into their recently renovated house. It’s been the longest labor and delivery – literally and figuratively. And now that they have their little parcel of joy (so to speak), I hope they love and enjoy it and make it their own. Needless to say I can’t wait to see the new addition to the family (I know that was a groaner, but I couldn’t resist).

There is a gentle irony in her move to this house. Although we didn’t grow up there, it’s proximate to where my parents lived (they bought their house when my sister and I were already in college. I used to say that had we moved to the suburbs before I finished high school, my graduation gift would have been way better than a Panasonic stereo). It is where I remember them at their happiest. And it became home – because it was where they were, where my children crawled and toddled and ran – where so many memories were made. My sons always reference this house when remembering their grandparents – the backyard with apple trees as bases and dad throwing pitch after pitch after pitch, looking for shells down at the dock, creating innumerable ways to take indoor soccer to new levels of hilarity. It’s where Andy and I got married.

I can’t wait to visit my sister and yet, when I think about driving up 95 and getting on the Hutch, my eyes cloud with tears and there are no words. No words. Perhaps because my heart is too full. There are some things that time doesn’t temper. There are some moments that may change in hue or shading, but remain the same in form and substance.

This sentimentality is heightened by another serendipitous experience. My parents had a circle of friends (all European but for our dad) that was arguably too close, too intimate, too ‘Mad Men’. They were known as “The Group” – they had their children within months of each other, summered together in the Catskills, wintered together at each other’s houses. As their offspring, we identified with each other in so many unspoken ways. All first generation Americans (again, dad being the exception), all growing up with a European perspective of child-rearing, all connected by an emotional cord tied by our parents. Until it unraveled when we were young adults.

You know where this is going – Deb and three of these women have picked up that cord once more. They had dinner together recently, and she described it as warm and loving. They will see each other again; I’m hoping to join them. And slowly I feel the ground shift, the angles inherent to any journey smoothing and perhaps unresolved elements coming full circle. I find myself gravitating to these memories and holding myself back, venturing forward with some reluctance. I need to protect the little girl who is in my care; she still has hurt along with the delight. She’s never been very good at self-protection.

So I sit here in the silence that arrives with snowfall, recognizing the wonder in the nexus of these moments, their undeniable connection to the past and their inextricable relevance to the present. As to the future? It’s not mine to predict – I just know that it makes me smile, albeit with one tear.

anxiety, discretion, friendship, humor, life lessons, love, mindfulness

Testing The Waters

January 5, 2013January 5, 2013 mimijk

The Sirs…my fur-kids. They look adorable do they not? Sweet and docile, playful and affectionate. I love them, spoil them and they reciprocate in dog-kind. Wherever I go, there they are. As I write this, Teddy is sharing my chair, fast asleep despite the fact that half of my body is no longer on the seat. It’s ok – he’s comfortable and I think it’s cute. Archie is snoring with his head on my left foot. True, my foot fell asleep about twenty minutes ago, but why disturb him? In my efforts to live in the moment, this is one of those times when my attention is drawn to the comfort of their presence, the clickety-clack my nails make on the keyboard, the hum of the dishwasher. It’s all good..

Without defining it as a New Year’s resolution per se, I have decided that I need to be more conscious of being in the moment. Anticipating the future and re-assessing the past are exercises in mental frustration, and frankly leave no part of me more firm and toned as a result. ‘Shoulds’ and ‘coulds’ permeate my internal running monologue, punctuated with “what were you thinking?”, “what are you going to say?”, “are you crazy-stupid or just crazy?”. The absolute, breath-taking awesomeness arrives when I invite myself to shut up and just notice the moment in which I find myself. And on the rare occasions when I do, I feel really, really good. So I’m trying – which includes those times when trying just doesn’t work…

I usually bring the dogs into the bedroom when I take a shower. Archie comes into the bathroom and wedges himself between the toilet and the wall (don’t ask me why for it involves a lot of grunting and contorting on his part) and sleeps, well, like a dog – from the moment the shower spray is turned on through all other activities until the moment when the hair dryer is turned off. Sir Theodore sleeps on the bed (I usually put cnbc on for him, for it could put the most alert being to sleep after a while). Such machinations buy me peace, for if Sir Archibald is in repose, he does not see the leaf blowing by the window which elicits excited, contagious barks. Ted starts barking too (though he doesn’t know why). Typically they’re not big barkers – but when they see something that has the potential to be transportive, forget it. We’ve got a cacophony of headache-inducing proportion.

But yesterday was such a quiet day, and I was feeling so out of sorts (have you ever wondered what ‘in sorts’ means? Sorry, there I go again), I just turned the shower handle all the way to ‘hot’ and waited for the heat and steam to ease the chills that were alternately visiting my body after the dripping sweat cooled on my skin. “A perfect moment”, I thought to myself. “Just take in this delicious sensory experience, the feel of the water on your skin” (hot enough to feel like pin pricks but not so hot to be considered pin pricks of torture), “even if you can’t smell your shampoo, enjoy the luxurious lather on your hair – go ahead and make a mohawk”…I was getting as into the moment as a flu-infected person could. I even began to sing “Ain’t Nobody’s Business If I Do”. The acoustics are fantastic.

And then all hell broke loose.

Archie fought his way out from his self-imposed wedge and charged downstairs barking as if he was the welcome committee for the Martians who just happened to pull into the driveway. Teddy, less intrepid but definitely supportive of his buddy, began jumping all over the bed (after all, it is far safer to bark from a reasonable distance until you determine if whatever-it-is is friend or foe). To paraphrase a different song – I had let the dogs out.

“Let it go Mimi, be in the moment”, I insisted. Archie was bordering on the apoplectic – whatever was there, it was big. In response, I opened my eyes just as a cascade of shampoo fell into my eyes. Teddy came running into the bathroom insisting that without my intervention the world as we know it would cease. “Breathe deep..if this was Andy he wouldn’t even notice – take your time.” My heart began to beat more quickly. I began racing to rinse my hair (an impossible task), scrape the razor across my knees (don’t try this) and complete this soothing experience which had quickly turned into a clip from a Three Stooges movie. With blood dripping from my leg, eyes abraded from shampoo and a chorus of enthusiastic barks telling me to hurry up, I grabbed my robe and tore downstairs leaving a trail that would make it easy for CSI to figure out what happened when they ultimately found me sprawled at the bottom of the stairs.

UPS delivered a pair of sneakers. The box was left in the garage.

Of course, the boys settled down as soon as I retrieved the package. They resumed their original positions and were blissfully dreaming in puppyland before I pulled myself back upstairs. “Ah Grasshopper”, I thought, “You blew this big time”.

So the universe brought me a lesson along with my new sneakers. Keep the canine distractions locked in the room with me? Well, duh. But more importantly, if you really want to be in the moment you have to work at it. You have to keep your eyes closed when shampooing your hair (which is another way of saying that a moment is best savored when you don’t disturb it). And you really do have to acknowledge that serendipity, UPS delivery people and happenstance can test your best efforts. Don’t let it deter you – give the present it’s due and if you get distracted, you might as well laugh and try again.

anxiety, friendship, humor, life lessons, love, mindfulness

In First Gear

January 3, 2013January 3, 2013 mimijk

Well, it’s good to be back behind the wheel – even if this is the second time I’ve backed out of the driveway since I began this little adventure a year ago. Let me tell you how clueless I really was when I pulled into the service center – and how clueless I remain now that I’ve left. Were it not for my son Paul, there would be no new iteration of the Karma Truck, for over the past two days I have managed to mangle two different themes, download another background entirely (which exists somewhere in a zip file that I have not been able to find, unzip or download). I cannot begin to describe what I did with the darn widget-things, all I know is that at one point, there was no room for text unless I chose to write one word per line. I have written frantic messages to my technically proficient friends who with their characteristic grace and patience, felt my pain and offered me a couple of paper bags to breathe into (except for David who has been highly amused).

And then I came down with the flu.

And tomorrow, I was going to fly to meet an adored friend of mine in warmer climes. Not according to the doctor who insists that I am grounded until the 15th.

So far, I’d say that 2013 is starting with a big, fat raspberry.

Far be it for me not to find the humor in this though. It does seem to be my proclivity to get all the yucky stuff over just as the New Year presents itself – no celebratory gestures here. I save those for later in the month, when everyone else is still recovering from their revelry. Perhaps this explains why my exuberance in late January is often viewed derisively. I have terrific rhythm though I am clearly not in sync. The upside is that I can provide the enthusiasm when everyone is struggling with the ennui of a season that feels endless, as the dearth of three-day weekends extends to unreasonable lengths. Never fear – I’ll be perking up around then.

So before I reach for more tea, grab my tissue box and dive head first under the covers, I thought I would show you the new and improved Karma Truck, and assure you that though the body may be spruced up a bit (with massive appreciation to Paul), the interior is exactly the same – it’s still just me.

anxiety, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, music, work life

Winding Down The Road

December 29, 2012December 29, 2012 mimijk

As 2012 begins its inevitable walk to the ‘Exit’ sign, and 2013 lingers outside the Entrance waiting for the bouncers to accept its credentials and admit it into our crazy, rockin’ psyches, I’ve got to grab a moment of retrospection about the road the karma truck has traveled since I first turned the key in the ignition in early January of this passing year.

I had no map – as you now know, it would have proven useless anyway given my challenges with geography. I was just going to drive with an eye to the sky and an ear to my heart. Such spontaneous, free-formed initiatives were new to me. You don’t work within the confines of a white-shoe, professional service firm and ad-lib your actions too much (though I certainly did my share – after all irreverence can be a good and freeing thing). But again, I digress..

I agonized about hitting ‘publish’ for the first time, returning to my computer obsessively to see if anyone had stopped by. I learned relatively quickly to leave the ‘stats alone, and to let go of any fantasies of becoming one of those bloggers that arrive at notoriety with equal parts serendipity and timing. And as with most illusions that are suspended, reality became a far more incredible experience.

David Kanigan (davidkanigan.com) who writes’Lead.Learn.Live’ (read it read it read it – you will look forward to his posts daily, and feel a bit bereft if for some reason he gives himself a break to take a vacation or something) was my first ‘follower’. Lori, a writer by profession with prodigious creativity and warmth (and a fabulous gift unto herself) posting at donnaanddiablo.wordpress.com, was my second follower. Andy, my sister Deborah and friend Joanne followed thereafter. And now a year later with over 600 followers and 31,000 views, I still have no clue where the karma truck is going. What I do know is that it is traveling with an incredible entourage of people who openly share their thoughts, encourage me to keep the gas tank full and forgive me some of my lamer efforts (like yesterday’s post – a non-existent YouTube video – yes, I need more Apple therapy).

There is no question I would have continued writing, for there is someplace I’m heading with this, and I am hoping that one day you all will help me figure that out with your suggestions and ideas. But for today, as I look back I can’t ask you for anything more. I can only thank you for all that you’ve given me. Friendships that have grown out of invisible threads that somehow connected us – we each picked up an end. We have shared the stories of life – marriages beginning and ending, lives changing and morphing like shape shifters in a sci-fi novel, hearts exploding with pain and/or exuberance, illness and the new breath that arrives with the spring, questions with no answers and answers that are equivocal. We have been silly and we have been considered. These conversations have been some of the most fulfilling and instructive and delightful exchanges I have ever had. You let me risk tipping a hand that I have held close for a very long time. And you graced me with showing me yours.

I’m not sure what 2013 holds for the karma truck. I do know that I am incredibly grateful for the friendships that I have come to cherish, the absolutely crazy-with-talent people who I follow, with perpetual open-mouthed awe and an ability to be as irritating as a relentlessly circling mosquito. Thank you for your patience and encouragement.

I hope 2013 brings joy and good health, the courage to risk and the freedom to dream, long walks and endless possibilities. I hope you feel lighter and less inclined to contort yourself into something you are not – for you have shown over and over again how amazing you are without such unnecessary effort. I hope friendships deepen, love visits us all generously and often, and that we’re smart enough to relish its presence. And I hope what we put out into this world meets the threshold of kindness and grace that allows for only goodness to be returned. Here’s to next year.

(ps. David – if this doesn’t work, don’t tell me..;-)

anxiety, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, mindfulness

Why Ask Why?

December 22, 2012December 22, 2012 mimijk

“Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connait point. French. Pascal. The heart has its reasons , whereof reason knows nothing.” — Madeline L’Engle

When my sons were little, ‘why’ was their favorite question. You all know the exercise – the repeated inquiry that dissects a question into the most inane and discreet detail; the exchange that lasts longer than one’s patience and ultimately resolves itself once the child loses interest in the game.

But age hasn’t tempered this query for me. I ask ‘why’ all the time – just not necessarily a loud (I say enough things a loud to perpetuate worry in those who hear me). Why do I know there’s wind despite my inability to see it? Why do I persist in my efforts to understand the puzzle of human behavior? And, with all that persistence, why can’t I at least figure out my own? Why do we establish expectations that are constructed as a house of cards? The only difference is that I have now discovered the answer.

Because.

These aren’t the questions for which there are more concrete answers. Reason doesn’t dictate the posing of such questions. Facts don’t satisfactorily assuage either, for these are just the surface results of queries that are too complicated to form in any sensible way.

Why does the heart want what it wants?

Because.

Because within the human condition is faith. Faith explains that which we believe to be true that we can’t see or explain. But we know. We know that there is such a thing as love whether or not our personal histories have experienced it, for our hearts ache for it sight unseen. We know that there are miraculous moments in a day – from the subtle connections that make you feel like someone just read your mind to the complicated ties that allow friends to ‘just know’ when something is up. The brilliance of a cardinal’s color on a leafless tree. Why did that one star begin to twinkle more brightly just as I was thinking of someone who is no longer here? Why? Why does the sunrise evoke promise and the sunset occasionally resemble the saddest colors in the world? Why was I lucky enough to learn that some of the most simple days are the happiest? Why do some people snort when they giggle? (Ok, I threw that one in there just to see if you were still with me).

Because.

And one of the nice things about being older is that you bring all the ages you have already been with you. So you know that ‘because’ can suffice. That there is a place for complex debate and study and philosophizing and a place for simple acceptance on faith. So today I accept the awesomeness of being here without further scrutiny. It just is. And if you are wondering why that in and of itself is ok with me? Because. Have a great day all.

anxiety, friendship, life lessons, love, mindfulness, parenting

When The Heart Just Hurts

December 15, 2012December 15, 2012 mimijk

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit under an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.” — Louise Erdrich

I had different plans for this post – we attended my daughter-in-law’s graduation yesterday, the day before was a banner day at the barn. I can’t get there right now. My heart returns to the unfathomable shock of yesterday’s disaster in Newtown. I can’t turn away for to do so would diminish the feeling of being inconsolable. I pray that these families tasted abundant sweetness and that they are enveloped in love and support. My tears drip on the keyboard – I can’t write about the loss of life itself…one can plan I suppose, though arguably it is better to hope.

anxiety, discretion, friendship, humor, inspiration, leadership, life lessons, love, management, mindfulness

Tell It To Me Straight

December 13, 2012December 13, 2012 mimijk

Everyone I know insists that they want to hear the truth. I’m not sure everyone I know is being completely honest about this. In fact, I think that most people prefer to hear selective truths. I’ll go so far as to suggest that we all filter certain realities just so we can wrap our heads around their implications.

– I believe that my bathroom scale is digitally confused and vindictive – swinging wildly between two weights – one I can live with, the other requiring that I eschew food for the next year.

– I believe we’re all a little neurotic.

– I believe that I’m really not getting shorter, rather the units of measurement have changed since I was a young girl and no one told me.

– I believe that the answers to global warming, cancer, Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s and world peace are moment’s away from being discovered. And by this I mean, short moments.

– I believe in miracles. It all depends on your definition of ‘miracles’.

– I believe that continuing to nest even after your kids have grown, married and established homes of their own, is absolutely fine.

– I believe it’s still ok to keep a pair of sneakers in the garage even though I’ve been married for decades and adore my husband.

– And I absolutely believe it’s ok to cry at Hallmark commercials.

On a more serious note, my reality includes the belief that every dog has its day – and I’m not talking about canines here. Somewhere along the way, people who intentionally demean or devalue others will be subject to a painful lesson or two. Whether they get anything out of it or not, is something else entirely. Given that this reality developed early in my professional career (perhaps as a way of dealing with a perverted boss who routinely made sexual overtures, comments, etc), I encourage leaders to read this as a cautionary reminder. If you surround yourself with people who tell you only what you want to hear, and not what you should hear, and agree to follow directives that are questionable and potentially ill-conceived, you will become a person that even you would not want to follow. If you can’t effectively develop your people, you’re not a leader. And of course when the day comes when you realize that people are following you because they are paid a lot of money to do it, you will understand that core values have flown the coop, along with respect, loyalty and collaboration. Yes, I’m still passionate about this. I’ve been in too many conversations with too many people lately who are feeling the effects of uninspired oversight.

I realize I just broke one of my unwritten rules – not to write about leadership or management anymore. My apologies. I guess I believe that reality can be adjusted every once in a while to accommodate that which is scratching at your heart.

And at the end of the day, I believe that there are very few pure truths – though admittedly there are some. What I feel when enveloped in a hug, the way I can make Andy laugh until his stomach hurts, the way the ‘I love you’s’ from my kids can grab me by the throat. The tender velvet of a horse’s nose, the reality that gravity and I are really no longer friends, the magnificence of a cardinal posing in a fir tree.

Regardless of what you choose to accept or deny, I do believe that ultimately life has a way of working itself out. I may not be around to see it, I may not participate in the moment – but believe me – today I choose to accept the reality that everything is going to be just fine.

anxiety, discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, motivation

Sometimes The Lesson Isn’t Yours

December 11, 2012 mimijk

One of my friends is anticipating the publication of her book, “The Poor Man’s Feast”. I don’t have an advance copy, but I have advanced knowledge of the author – I’ve known her since she was one of my campers (the fact that we are now peers seems generationally impossible – and yet…). If you ever need additional delight in your day, check out her blog of the same name.

Lissie’s book is an autobiographical account of her life with family, friends and food. They are inextricably connected and her stories both amuse and intrigue; her recipes (some of which I have tried) are drool-worthy. You would think that she would be reveling in the excitement of this achievement. Certainly those of us who love her are celebrating her success with choruses of encouragement and congratulations. And yet, Lissie has worries that are not hers to own.

Yesterday she wrote me about some recent familial experiences which have prompted anxiety about the anticipated reaction of some of her relatives to her book. Although names have been changed and she has the talent to allow her voice to ring with sincerity and love, she is fretting about some of the less-than-kind comments that have come her way lately from some members of her tribe. I think my response to her was incomplete, despite my efforts to be supportive.

Another friend of mine is trying to find her sea legs after being upended by the tragic impact of Hurricane Sandy. The family business was seriously damaged, requiring too much negotiation through the bureaucratic nightmare that governmental agencies and insurance companies seem to require. Perhaps perseverance is a an unwritten rule prior to receiving relief – they winnow out the weak who give up with resignation and despair. Not Jo – give her a cause and she will rally passionately. Which is all well and good unless your heart feels like it’s being cracked in the process. And though the plant is officially up and running, the residual emotional exhaustion is a toll no one should have to pay. You’d think high premiums and ridiculous deductibles would be enough, wouldn’t you?

And another friend who is self-employed, ponders daily about what she should be doing or could be doing to bring in more business. How to effect a paradigm shift in companies who are holding onto stasis as a dog might covet a bone. As she expends hour upon hour considering alternative and creative ways of changing mind-sets, she ends up questioning herself and works hard to avoid the temptation of an abyss of self-doubt.

What do these situations all have in common (other than my incredible love and respect for these women)? The search for meaning. The gnawing, relentless question of how to contort one’s self to fit into a current reality. But what if these aren’t questions for us? Perhaps these aren’t our lessons to learn, rather the lessons for those around us. What if this is a lesson for Lissie’s family – to learn (or not) the ways we love and accept and delight in another’s gifts? For others to learn the adverse impact that a non-stop revolving door has on customers who have placed their trust in your promised services? And a company to learn that nothing from nothing really does leave nothing, and in order to thrive you have to change that which is obsolete and ineffective?

Sounds simple, but on a very fundamental level, I think it’s hard to grasp. We choose to think that every lesson is for our edification. And though I believe that we do ourselves a great injustice when we miss those instructive moments, I think we do ourselves an equally profound disservice by thinking that each life lesson is somehow karmically presented for us. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar; sometimes an ‘a ha’ moment is designed for someone else and we are just bit players in their story.

Perhaps I write this because I so want my friends to be happy. Because I think each of these women is so phenomenal and loving and talented and smart that nothing but joy should govern their days. Maybe though it is a message for us all – the sacrilege of stating that not all of the universe’s intent is for our benefit. And in those moments, when we accept with humility that it is about others, we can offer the greatest example of what we have already learned – to love.

anxiety, friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, mindfulness, motivation

Have I Said Thank You Lately?

December 9, 2012December 9, 2012 mimijk

I want to thank David @ davidkanigan.com (Lead.Learn.Live), Renee @ positiveboomer.net and Ivon @ ivonprefontaine.wordpress.com (Teacher As Transformer) for according me the Blog of 2012 award.

David wrote me this morning and suggested I read the rules, because I wanted to nominate him. Apparently I can’t do that. This is yet another clue to my personality – I live within the spirit and intent of the law, though I can’t confirm that I always follow it to the letter. Call it petulance, a throwback to my pseudo-hippie years, or just a desire to expand the lovely opportunities in the day as widely as possible.

This is my way of telling you that I am bending the rules slightly, and I hope you’re all cool with that. In January, I will write a post about how I have been impacted by a year’s worth of experience in this community. For now though I’d like to just quickly mention that it has given far more to me than I have arguably given. Were it not for David and Lori (donnaanddiablo@wordpress.com), I would probably have not continued. I’m not in their league – I know it and I’m ok with it too. I’m not a writer, I will never publish…I’m just a woman trying to figure stuff out. David and Lori, in their personal and unique ways have somehow managed to keep me going each time I wanted to stop. I’m not kidding you – each time. Call it karmic connection, intuitiveness, generosity of spirit – it nonetheless continues to amaze and humble me. Perhaps we truly are connected by some thin red thread that quivers every time one feels like falling.

To me, this award is for those who have such talent, perspective, humor, aesthetic sensitivity, etc that I return to their blogs with eagerness and curiosity. What is Anake going to show me today, what pearls will Susan string together while forming her poetic necklace, has Bonnie been prompted by some life experience that resulted in a posting both thoughtful and intuitive? How will Misifusa lift me up today? Will I feel the need to opine about John’s perspective on leadership? You catch my drift. There is so much talent out there, I’m still a neophyte. At best I am a wondering soul with a decent vocabulary.

So without further comment, I nominate the following people for this award. They inspire, amuse, delight, challenge and do so with such consistency that they truly are the bloggers of 2012. The bad news, which I am fretting over, is that I’m sure I’m going to miss someone who I admire equally. I am hopeful you know that this is an error of oversight, not intention.

Cathy @ largeself.wordpress.com

John @ johnrchildress.com

Misifusa@wordpress.com

Paula @ stuffitellmysister.wordpress.com

Kristin @ letlifeinpractices.com

Bonnie @ paperkeeper.wordpress.com

Anake @ anakegoodal.com

Laurie @ passionateperformance.om

Deanna @ deannaohara.com (Redemption’s Heart)

Susan @ susandanielseden.wordpress.com

Elizabeth @ almostspring.com

Russ @ russtowne.com (A Grateful Man)

Bill @ drbillwooten.com

There are more…and this is where I am feeling the most anxiety – for I have been more enriched by this august cyber community than I ever could have imagined. I promise you this, I will have the opportunity to acknowledge all of you before the karma truck finally parks.

anxiety, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, motivation

It’s All So Simple – When It Isn’t So Complicated

December 7, 2012December 7, 2012 mimijk

Yesterday was my first experience volunteering with the non-profit Lift Me Up. I got to the barn over an hour before my official ‘start’ time. In part my timing was off because I mis-read the instructions; my subconscious though was clearly insistent on spending some time in the quiet of the morning communing with the horses.

Frenchie knickered when I arrived and was rewarded with a couple of carrots (this is me – of course I had brought carrots along). We nuzzled over the fence for a little while and I was overcome with emotion. Horses are inextricably tied to memories of time spent with my dad – riding with him and/or my sister, lesson after lesson with Mr. Gardner as he scolded me when I missed the lead found in the horse’s hooves (I would be looking at my father – always seeking that goofy smile of his), Gold Nugget (the most beautiful Palomino in the universe). I sat on a fence, feeling the sun greet the morning and watching the horses in their pastures anticipate the arrival of their morning hay. As each bale was dropped I watched them argue and tussle over who had dibs, bucking with the feistiness born of indignation and bluster.

I don’t think there is anything more glorious than an early morning sun, the smell of fresh hay and eavesdropping on conversations between old equine friends. I could have stayed like that all day and felt like I had been given the gift of golden memories and magical mornings combined in a perfect olio.

Ironically, I ended up bringing the largest horse in for the morning’s work. Nyles is a beautiful, mouthy guy, who likes to nibble on your sweatshirt, hair and anything else within touching distance. He’s a big guy and I couldn’t even see the top of the head of the other volunteer who helped me with grooming. So, I sang quietly to Nyles as I tended to him with the requisite different types of combs and brushes. And not to put too fine a point on it – but yes, we kissed. I kissed quite a lot yesterday (and I think I already have a favorite in Elmo, who truly does return the kiss). And all would have been well if I could have just spent the day like this.

“Who are you?”

“No one of consequence.”

“I must know.”

“Get used to disappointment” — William Goldman

The volunteers couldn’t have been more indifferent to me and more importantly to the riders scheduled for therapy. With great discomfort, I introduced myself to everyone, tried to make the requisite small talk and failed miserably. Ok, this experience isn’t about me. I struggled physically with the need to keep my body twisted towards Nyles while consciously maintaining weight on the rider’s leg. A lovely, profoundly challenged man, he shouted with delight while on Nyles’ back, though he was unable to sustain holding the reins or fully balancing himself (it was clear that he was learning more about balance, and with some assistance to dismount, was damn graceful once I was able to move his leg back and over the saddle). He laughed most of the hour and when he would make eye contact with me, he’d also try and lean forward to touch my head.

As we walked, I would talk to the rider and sing to Nyles. Or perhaps it was vice versa. It is no exaggeration when I write that I was the only one who spoke to this lovely man. Or the horse. The volunteers spoke to each other about various aches, pains, marital issues and competed to see who had the most comprehensive knowledge of the barn’s tenants.

When Nyles was done working, we brought him back to pasture. The next hour I spent with another gentleman and Valentine (a horse with a fair amount of gravitas and a limited supply of grace). He was able to hold the reins and balance well, which was a selfish relief, for at this point I was struggling with my own body’s resistance to the efforts from the first session. And my heart was hurt from feeling dismissed by the other volunteers. Believe me, I know this is a function of being new and having tenured people watch as well-intended folks come and go without commitment or comment. It is as reflective of my insecurity as it is their indifference. But I was disappointed for a bit. And worried as I walked into the house looking like a bent, pained old woman. Can I hold up my end of the bargain even with some limitations?

The answer remains unclear. I know I will go back next week and look forward to seeing my equine friends and riders, if not my colleagues. I don’t cave that easily and I have yet to wave the white flag when my body wimps out. So the odds are good it isn’t going to happen this time either. I know the challenges of working in the non-profit world, I just need to find the rhythm so I move with its gait and not against it.

I gave Frenchie a good-bye carrot and nuzzle and headed home, my senses heightened by such a powerful exposure to the morning and my heart a muddle. I’m not buying a new pair of paddock boots just yet, but I’ve already made a note to buy some apples for next week.

anxiety, discretion, friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

What’s Love Got To Do With It? A lot

November 28, 2012November 28, 2012 mimijk

I want to thank Bill who writes the blog drbillwooten.com for posting a quote this morning which has been echoing in my head –

“In the life of each of us…there is a place remote and islanded, and given to endless regret or secret happiness. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside wakes.” — C.E. Jung

Let me qualify this, before you leap to the notion that I’m advocating a narcissistic approach to life, centered totally on yourself with no consideration given to anyone or anything else. Back it up my friend – let’s slow down and just take a little stroll, ok? There is little risk that any of those who read this are on the cusp of world domination, figuratively speaking (if for some reason you are on the literal cusp of world domination, I think it’s best I don’t know – just remember to please be kind when you assume global power).

I worry about my friends and family the way my Sirs can worry a bone. Archie can spend hours considering a new bone from every angle, holding it tightly in his paws, refusing to consider a walk outside or a diversion of any kind. I get it. And so today I’m writing to all of you who have been on my mind – I love you, but I also need to get some sleep.

You are so incredibly worthy and deserving of all the happiness that you seek. And you’re going to find it. I wish I could tell you that it’s located on aisle six of the supermarket, next to the shaving cream. On sale with no coupon needed. The good news is that the cost isn’t prohibitive. The less-than-good-news is that it’s where we seldom choose to look. Step inside yourself for a minute. What do you see? My hunch is that you see a lot of what you don’t want to look at. So, we shut that door and look outside. And our lives become “if..then” statements. ‘If this person loves me, then I will be happy.’ ‘If I could just get her to do ‘x’, then all would be good’. ‘If I get this promotion, then I’ll be set’. And – what if none of that happens? We push that away. Don’t want to think about it, because we’ve already set the level of expectation.

But where do you come into play? If you spoke to yourself as you would your best friend, looked in the mirror through the eyes of one who loves and cherishes you, gave yourself permission to love yourself with the same passionate devotion with which you approach others – what would you do today? How would you take care of you? Would you let someone you love waste one moment of his/her time on sorrow that is avoidable? Would you ever let someone you adore, cede control of his/her sense of self to anyone? You wouldn’t of course – that’s what makes you such a fantastic friend. Perhaps to everyone except yourself.

I’ve gotten myself so lost at times that it’s taken me years to get back to someone I recognize. It happens. And finding that I detoured and went so far off course that I couldn’t even figure out my true location is not a foreign exercise to me. I’m still learning to give myself a break, nurture the little kid in me, still the voices in my head that continue to insist that they know what I should be doing, when arguably they no longer really know me at all. I look in the mirror and some days I can’t stand what I see. And I have a very strong able-bodied imp that jumps up and down every time I try to give myself an ‘atta girl’.

But – and it’s a big but – I know if I listen for too long, I will go down a path I would rather not travel. I want to love this life enough to feel joy with who I am – choosing to sit here at the round table, with the sun on my back, jazz playing softly in the background, writing to you. I choose to travel inside every once in a while to see how I’m treating myself, and to remember that I’m more ok than I probably think I am. And more importantly, I can’t dismiss my own neurotic idiosyncracies by focusing on everyone and everything except them. They’re as much a part of me as any wonderful qualities I may possess. So be it. I’ve gotta expend a little emotional energy on me. That’s what my best friend would tell me.

My best friend would remind me that in her eyes, I’m wonderful and worthy and important. A best friend would not let me put the onus of my happiness on anyone’s shoulders and would urge me to get happy with me first. Because a friend loves like that. Can you be your own best friend for a little while? Take that tentative walk inside and find all the wonder that is there and try to make peace with what is not – and still love you like crazy?

That is my wish for today – that you see yourself as I do. That you embrace your magical, wonderful, generous, funny, lovable, silly, serious, slightly nutty, ridiculously talented self as I would if you were here.

anxiety, friendship, humor, life lessons

My Fingers Are At War With My Brain

November 27, 2012November 27, 2012 mimijk

I am writing this from my new laptop – a MacBook. Lovely little piece of equipment – I have named her Lucy (as in “Lucy, I’m h-o-m-e”) with the hopes that we will enter into a long-term relationship of mutual respect and understanding.

We have a long way to go.

First of all, I’ve always been a ThinkPad person. All my earlier relationships have been with its different iterations. I knew what it was going to do before it did it – not needing to look at the keyboard, understanding the nuances of its prompts, able to keep multiple conversations ongoing without any need to cajole, plead or praise excessively. We knew each other. My files, saved pictures, ideas for future posts, etc resided in ‘my places’. We made space for each other and dare I say it, had that kind of intimate knowledge of each other reserved for only the closest of friends.

However, my ThinkPad was beginning to resist my ‘Good Morning’, refusing to awake until I re-booted multiple times. It was beginning to bristle at my demands and would arbitrarily just shut down while we were still talking (so to speak). It was becoming clear to me that we were tiring of each other – and we hammered out the details of our cyber-divorce. Right now she is upstairs, happily sleeping on a bookcase, thrilled to be rid of my furious banging and rants that I always directed at the screen.

Lucy is a laptop with a mind of her own – which I respect. I like independent thinkers. But she’s not even trying to be a pal. I can’t find the delete key (on this keyboard, ‘delete’ is really ‘backspace’), different applications keep bouncing up and down seeking my attention and don’t even ask me where my files are (though I know they’re here somewhere – I think this is a little passive-aggressive, but let’s not go there). To move the cursor down, I have to move my finger up on the mouse. It took me twenty minutes this morning just to figure out how to get the power cord extender to work. Clearly we are going to have to take this relationship very slowly. In fact, I am going to take her to a relationship specialist at Apple on Thursday – we have got to work on how we communicate with each other. Right now I’m making all the concessions in the name of maintaining a happy transition. She’s not doing a damn thing except sitting here pointing out my spelling mistakes and frankly, digging in her heels about what she will and will not do. Everyone insists how intuitive these MacBooks are – all I have to say to that is ‘ha’! She’s intuitive alright – she knows just how to make me feel like a nimnut.

I will rise to her challenge though – I am determined to make her my good friend, whether or not this is a relationship she would like to see move forward. We are going to learn how to talk with each other, remain open and available and delight in our journey. I will keep her clean and shiny and promise not to dribble coffee on her keys. She will show me where she has hidden my pictures, quotes, secrets and bad jokes that I never can remember. This is going to be a union made in techno-heaven. We are going to love each other with devotion. We will dammit. But first I need to find an instruction manual.