There is much to learn, in the not doing

I was talking to my daughter the other day about taking a vacation.  She had been visiting with us for the past week, and remarked about how un-rested vacations seemed to be.  She then went on to say that she liked it though because she wanted to fit in as many things as she could before going home, and how she didn't want to waste any time.

I told her how much I needed a vacation, and how I would love to just be on a sandy beach somewhere lying in a cabana enjoying the sound of the ocean.  How nice it sounded just to rest and recharge.  She agreed, but then added...that would be fun for a little bit then I would have to find something exciting to do.

I think back to so many trips I have been on.  Trying to do and see as much as possible in the little time that we would allow ourselves.  How rushed it all seemed to be.  I think of the street markets I have been to with others.  Feeling as if we were trying as quickly as possible to get through it all and just wanting to slow down and take it all in.  

I have come to know that I learn and gain understanding through touch and feel.  Rushing past all those booths and not being able to touch that beautiful silky skirt, or pick up that bar of handmade soap and breathe in its intoxicating aroma... was almost painful.  

I remember having a rabbits foot when I was about 10.  I got such a hard time when I carried it around, but I can remember how much I loved the softness of it.  The feel of it in my hand.  It was almost hypnotizing. Even now, if I am wearing something soft, you can often find me absent mindedly running it through my fingers. 

I went to dinner with a friend the other night, and before hand we had stopped at Rocky Mountain Chocolate, and picked out a few of their amazing candies.  The only one I chose was a dark chocolate truffle.  After we ate he pulled out the bag containing them, and I cut a small piece off of it.  As it softened in my mouth, melting into sweet deliciousness, I found myself closing my eyes lost in the sensations....mmmm   It was truly amazing.

Life is too short to keep rushing.  Always trying to get done all the things that "must be done" in order to enjoy the 30 minutes of relaxation before I drop into bed, only to wake up and do it all again.  I plan on enjoying those wildflowers flowing across the meadow,  smelling all those lovely little bottles of essential oils, watching the fireflies at dusk if I am blessed enough to find any, closing my eyes eating truffles every now and then....and quite possibly sail away into the sunset towards that cabana.  

  

If you ever see me and it looks like I am not doing anything, rest assured that there is much I am doing, in the not doing.

To Surrender

All my life, I can remember my father voicing his fears of the future.  How much he worried about the government, and being able to survive on a fixed income.  How he worried about whether social security benefits would even still be available when he was ready to retire.  I remember him saying how important it was to have  food storage in case of emergency, and seeing the cases and cases of food and supplies that he and my mother would bring home and store in the garage.

His concerns about being able to have a safe place to go if and when another world war broke out, and moving the food that he so obediently purchased to a small piece of property out in the desert.  Far enough away so that it would be a safe place to go to if needed, but close enough so that he could take care of it.  

I remember how much he loved guns, and I will readily admit that I also have his love of them, and how he would go into the garage and spend hours refilling bullet casing.  Melting down silver and carefully pouring them into the molds to make the varying sized bullet heads. He then would carefully press these into their various cases, sealing them tight.  Then lastly carefully pressing the small ignitor into the end of the bullet, making them ready for use.  And how much I loved when he would take "the girls" and not just the boys to the shooting range and teach us how to aim and shoot.

I loved spending time with him.  I remember one year, he invited me to go backpacking with him for a week.  I think I was about 14.  At the time I can remember being so hesitant to go, not certain if it was the week long hike, or the fact that it would have been just he and I, but he ended up going alone.  A decision that I have always regretted.  Now I would love to be able to spend a week alone with just him.  Talking just to him, and getting a better knowledge of him and his many loves.  I would give much to be able to have him fully here with us again.

 He had another fear...one I can remember for so very long. A fear that he would get Alzheimers, and lose himself in the disease.   He even went so far as to be genetically tested to see if he had the gene, which he was told he did not.  

He has been sick for some time now....dementia they call it.  It would seem that not having the gene for one disease, does not give us a clean bill of health if we have told the remaining cells in our body, that they will one day get sick.  

I miss him terribly, but not as much as my loving mother does.   She is an angel in my eyes.  Lovingly taking care of him, helping him daily with so many things we all take for  granted.  Answering the never ending questions, over and over again....sometimes minutes after having just answered the very same one.  The bathroom duty, the sleepless nights, the loss of the one closest to her heart....

We are all alone in life, to one degree or another....let those closest to you KNOW of your love for them.  While they are still with us...and can still hear and understand the words that you tell them

  

alone in this thing called life

emptiness  deep inside 

the space that used to be filled

we are lost to ourselves

and the world around us

where we once were a part

now separate....so far from whole

aching inside

afraid that what once was

may never be again

watching those around us

as they struggle to find themselves

wanting so much to get back

to that  space  deep inside 

to reach that place of centering

afraid to stretch forth a hand

afraid to grasp for things not seen

afraid to rely on some THING

or someone

afraid to look weak

HE is there

ever there

waiting...

waiting to dry the tear stained cheek

waiting to take the outstretched hand

waiting to lift us up

cradling us in His loving arms

if only we would seek Him

what will it take

for us to surrender to His love

There will be no stuffing.....

I have done much pondering as of late.

I have always felt like a part...searching for the whole.  Looking for the place that I fit.  Always being told that I did NOT fit.  Being told that I was too emotional,

too outgoing, too quiet, too outspoken,  too abrasive, too passive.....

I allowed myself to be placed inside a mold that was comfortable to others. Wanting to please everyone, and in the process, losing myself.  Over the past 8 years there has been an ever growing discomfort for the box that I was in.

About 4 years ago I started collecting owls.  I love them....calm, quiet, wide eyed, taking in all of the world around them.  When I began collecting them, I was just drawn to them.  I am beginning to understand why.  Colton has asked me several times, "If you could be any animal, what would it  be?"  And I would be an owl.  

Owls are amazing creatures.  Some very small, almost unnoticed, and some majestic sitting high in the trees, or right  out in the open....sitting wide eyed and taking in everything.  All the big details, as well as  seeing the smallest mouse as it scurries in the grass far below.  He sits, watching, waiting, looking all around....then takes action, swooping down from above to take care of things.

I am often asked what is wrong?  Why are you mad?  When very often I am just deep in thought as I think of the world around me, or of  things that are taking place in my life.

I feel like an owl.  I can sit quietly thinking and doing my own thing for hours and be very  comfortable.  Watching everyone as they go about living their lives.  Everyone has always

seemed to have a direction...seemed to have a knowing as to what they wanted to do, or be in this life.  

The only thing I have ever been certain of, was that I would have children, and that I would be the best mother that I could be....whatever that looked like. I have always been able to feel the world around me.  I feel everything....even when I don't want to.  I take it all in.  

To be told not to feel, not to hurt when someone is hurting, not to want to comfort another that is in pain, or celebrate with another that is feeling joyful, not to cry in a movie....because it's just a dumb movie after all...is like telling you not to breathe.

I LOVE my feelings.  All of them.  They keep me grounded, I know this now.  So if you are  not comfortable being around someone that has feelings, that can cry at the drop of a hat, that cries in most movies, that aches to put their arms around you when you are sad....then I am not for you.  

If you tell me to stuff my feelings down again...well...my response will be for you to stuff it.

Accept all of me, or none of me.  I am an all or nothing package.

             

New Beginnings

It has been a long time since I have entered any words of any kind here.  Much has happened in the past few months.  Time and life have a way of getting away from us at times.  It's funny, how as children time moves so very slowly, sometimes painfully slow.  Looking forward to Christmas or my birthday when I was younger seemed like a never ending dream that would never come into light.  We had a tradition in our home that we would open one present on Christmas Eve, and would save one present for Christmas night.  Deciding which ones to choose was so very important then.  Which treasure to open early....and more importantly, which one to hang onto until the very end.

This was no small feet for my parents.  I still am unsure to this day how my mother and father managed to get gifts for all 7 of us kids.  We would pull all of them out from under the tree and separate them all into piles for each member of the family.  Doing what kids do best, comparing each others piles and then moaning about who had how many, and why it was not even.  I am certain that we distressed my mother upon seeing this in action.

I remember one year, I really wanted a rugby shirt....I LOVED them.  I remember going into a store with my mother and looking, and FEELING the fabric between my fingers.  I am sure I let her know just how much I would love to have one, and then we left.  On Christmas morning as we opened all our gifts to each other, I wondered if there was a rugby shirt under the tree.  And there was!  With my brothers name on it.  Yes I knew that the one I had looked at was in the boys section, but I did not care.  I loved the look, and the feel of it.  And so did he as he slid it over his head.  I am not sure how good of a job I did hiding my dismay, but he loved it just as much as I would have.  

I know with my own kids, how very difficult it can be trying to keep track of all that there is in life, and with the needs of each one, and to do our best to keep things even.  In the end we all understand that things will not always be even....and at times feel very unfair.   Life has taken some turns for me this year.  At the end of December life changed yet again.  And Curt and I finalized our divorce.  

I was so disappointed that Christmas not to have gotten that shirt I wanted so very much.  And there are days now that I feel like such a disappointment.  Yet hidden back under the tree, at the end of the day when we opened that final present, I did get that shirt that I was hoping to find.  And it did mean so much more to me when I opened it.  Certain that it was not going to be mine, and then knowing that my amazing parents had heard my wishes, made it a year I would never forget.  

I have no idea what is in the future, or even what is for dinner for that matter, but I have a feeling that things will work out.  Someone knows what lies inside each of those presents that are waiting, hidden in this journey that we call life.  They may not all be beautiful and brilliant, and in fact often times they are not what we desire.  But they are all still treasures none the less....and some of the best are the ones we have to unwrap and polish ourselves.  

I think it's my turn to be polished...I wonder what I will find