New Year coming

Well, I've almost made it through another holiday without committing suicide. And if you think I am being flip here and making fun of something most serious...I assure you that I am not. It is a constant thought throughout the holidays and I do everything but tie myself down to keep it from happening. There are many people that would be confused about it for years, forever and I can't do that to them. It's also a terribly selfish act and I can't imagine going out that way. I want something natural to happen, it's just not occurring soon enough.

And here's the problem with me...I am a believer. I believe in magic. And I have NOT had a life that is conducive to that notion. If anything, I have had a life that would lead one to believe there's nothing to this world, or energy or existence. Instead, by some unknown benefactor, I got this belief in good, and hope and magic. But, here's the thing...it doesn't ever work out for me. Not ever. And so, as I packed up my Christmas decorations (why am I doing this to be like every other sweet family in the country, while I most certainly am not) I decided to become a non-believer. And at the same time realized that I would not know myself at all that way. But, is that a very bad thing?

I'm tired of being heartbroken. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of not waiting, just working my ass off to make it happen. I'm tired of thinking it will happen if I am enough. I'm never going to be enough.

I suppose that a non-believer lives a pretty flat life. Knowing only that the road is there, but not whether it might rise up to greet you. Knowing the moon is full, but not that some spirit lives there smiling down on us. Seeing that the grass is green, but not listening for its whisper of springtime or passing crowds of ants and bugs. I suppose that a non-believer just doesn't believe and only knows what's right there. And a non-believer doesn't live in her head, but just with what is right there. No possibility, but rather probability to the negative sort.

All this makes me sad of course. I don't know how to live this way. But, I think I am going to find out. YOu might even consider me resolved to it.

It's December!

It's almost Christmas and I just planned a trip to Vegas. January is really the only month that I can travel now that I'll be travelling for work most of the year. It's been a seven day work week and I am bombed...so tired that everything looks muddy. Well, the rain isn't helping. But, we need it...and I'm all for it. But, my mood is bleak.

I decided on the holiday wish. The one I do every year. It's kindof funny how it happens. Each year around October, I plant the seed of Christmas wish. If I have had a difficult, hard, teary-eyed year, then the idea that brings me peace, hope, solace is the one I will choose. However, if I have had a decent year, meaning I worked hard at change and feel like I kicked old habit's butt...then I choose what scares me most. So, October went by and the only nudge of an idea I got was "love". (Not surprising I am sure.) But, I thought that I wished for love three years ago and my dog died, and I found love and acceptance around me. So, I know I have love. What do I really want? So, that narrowed it a bit, and what came next was "romantic love" and that felt like hearts and butterflies...not scary really at all. So, I sat with that for a bit. And what came next made my stomach clench it was so scary.

Intimacy.

And when I shared this with my spiritual group...the men of course went into every sex innuendo they could muster. But, I don't mean that. I mean I do, but I don't. I mean feeling safe with someone knowing me in a lot of ways rather than just the ones that I allow. I don't feel safe with people in general, men in specific. So, usually relationships get one part of me. The physical girl or the mental one. I want all of it. It terrifies me.

It's my Christmas wish.

Let the chips fall where they may. When I choose scary, I usually get it in big heart wrenching ways. I think I can handle it. I hope so.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Well...you know how I am about fortune cookies. And it's the holidays, so I am especially devastated. I know, I know...do something about it. However, my do-something button is out of whack this year. So, I woke up and cried. Then, I cooked. I ate. I washed dishes. I took comfort in the fact that other people were having to wash way more dishes than me. Then, I walked the dog and now I am getting ready to head to the town of Mayberry to watch OO7 with Angela and Brack. I was invited other places, I don't want you to think that I don't have absolutely fabulous people in my life. But, I just want my own person..you know? And I am tired of not having that...and I know I will feel more lonely in the crowd of someone's family stuff than I do being right here. But, I still feel pretty crummy. And thank God Daniel Craig is so gorgeous that he will make me forget everything but his hotness for two hours. Brack may kill us...Angela and I went on our own last year and I think we both gasped at all the same parts.

Anyway...you want to know, don't you? I passed the cabinet and thought that I am just a tiny bit hungry and since there was no pie in this place today...it is my sweet tooth that came calling. So, I opened the cabinet and there sat the bright pink box and I thought, what the hell? I'll see what it has to say. So, I chose the cookie on top, pulled out the little white slip, and this is what it said...

You have so much to be thankful for.

Right here on Thanksgiving day. It's that kinda thing that makes me believe in magic.

Again

I am.

The thing is that what passes for okay really isn't.

So, there are times when I don't know what is happening.

Times when it seems like God is throwing me curve balls...one, two, ten all at the same time.

I feel settled and unsettled.

Yesterday I had a moment. At Walmart. Complete chaos...cars, people, children, tents, buggies, strollers, craziness. And I walked out into it and it all stopped for one moment and it was like a got a push on my left side. NOt a rough push (and there wasn't a push) but a nudge that said "look this way!!" and so I did. And there he was...in a town that isn't our town. And how I saw him in all that, I just don't know.

But, the nudge is what interests me. Where does that come from? I believe it's energy...but is it my energy tuned into him and therefore engaging me? Or is it our energy bumping into each other and saying "wake up!"

I know it all sounds crazy. But, I get settled into an idea and then something like this happens and I get all unsettled again.

It shouldn't, but it does.

Who is he in my stupid life anyway? Here for what reason or duration? I just don't know and I want to know.

Then, again, they say that you can find everything at Walmart.

Pastoral

I found my jive again. Which is to say that I feel better for the time being. Someone said to me today that we all have our afflictions and that mine seemed to be a social compulsion to think that I can never do enough to deserve relationships with people (not necessarily men...any kind of relationship). And I can buy this about myself. And she went on to say that this is incurable. Which of course, being the growth junkie, I find a difficult thing to swallow.

It's humid here...and we walk and are wet. Although it isn't so hot. It's just steamy. Of course, I won't even talk about my hair...it is a moist mad froth. And since I consider it possibly my only redeeming feature, I HATE THIS.

I've been thinking about a lot of things lately. My mind skipping here and there. I heard a word a couple days ago-Surrender. This word could carry shame, but it doesn't for me. It isn't about losing the battle. It is about giving up before you are defeated. It is about keeping your self-respect. It is about letting go of the fight against impossible odds. It is about giving in to grace. And about harmony in knowing you've handed your wrath to a higher power.

But, it still feels frightening to me. It recommends vulnerability. And I stink at that.

I went to see The Women on Friday night with a group of women (who are amazing and work their hearts out for pet rescues in NC) that I don't hang out with a lot. Which is to say that I know not so much about them, but like what they are about and enjoy my time with them when it happens. After the movie, we were all talking and one of them mentioned a scene in the movie where two friends are angry with one another, then funny and finally crying together. And she said, "that pegs us" meaning the female race. And it isn't my experience. I hang with a different crowd. And that type of emotional outburst isn't really seen by me in the women relationships of my life. I think it is amazing that we are all so different and yet the same. I believe that women feel things, sense things and experience things in a way that no other living thing can. I think we are tuned in to a frequency that is life and we pick up on all the infinite possibility.

This can make for confusion. There is too much to choose from sometimes. But, overall, I wouldn't want to be anyone else, anything else. And I am so thankful for all those women who beat the path for me and took the hard hits to do it. I am thankful for the women who go out every day and make a new path. I feel so blessed to be a woman.

The Austen Tales

It's the second Thursday of the month and that means it's the evening for Jane. Austen that is, the book club. Tonight was Pride and Prejudice. There were five of us and then six. We talked about Elizabeth and Jane, DArcy and Bingley, dreadful Collins and sweet practical Charlotte. We sat amongst every kind of book and ate tiny onion tarts and later Chocolate Expresso cheesecake. And to be honest, I dreaded going tonight. Because of this funk that is taking me over...slowly step by step. (I won't let it...don't worry!) It's just hopelessness, which seems to be a common acquaintance of mine in the past few months. It comes and goes. I go through some supportive conversations and then I feel great for a while, only to bottom out again and feel like, well hopeless. Anyway, it actually turned out good to be there. I felt disconnected on some level, but I almost always feel that way. The conversation was good. I love hearing other people's thoughts. I like the openness of the group...no one knows it all. We offer ideas and think them through. As with any conversation I am attracted to...there aren't straight answers. More like tiny test tubes of bubbling hypotheses that never become fact. That bubble always with the possibility of what isn't known.

Why then do I live so frantically in not knowing at times? I mean, I adore it. But right now, I want to know...what happens next for me? Live my way into the answers (it's a magnet on my fridge)...forget about it! Is it age? It doesn't feel that way, but it could be. It feels like "dammit! stop jerking me around!!" That's what it feels like. That would be my God statement. And it might horrify some...but me and God have been pretty close for most of my life. So, I consider God my closest friend, and sometimes we argue.

Was it better when life got arranged for you? When you only had a few options? I doubt it. But the muddy pool I've been dealing with lately makes any kind of certainty look appealing. I won't lie about it...I'm looking for a big fat arrow in the sky. Seems lofty, I reckon but if you're going to ask for answers, you may as well shoot for the moon while you're at it. It feels a little crazy, but that's got some energy to it. I'll take a jolt over apathy any day of the week.

The only man I've ever dreamt of marrying was Mr. Darcy. And he would terrify me in real life.

Carved Out

I love fall. I do. It's the sweet spot in the year for me. I bought the largest pumpkin that I've ever bought yesterday at the market in our tiny town. I paid $4.99, which I love! Last year they were expensive. I never bought one...and looked at them longingly in the fields on my way to and fro. I thought of Linus and sitting out there with them waiting for the Great Pumpkin...because I do believe.

The word of the day has been patience. I have heard it in several sentences. Not always the actual word, but the thought, the idea. For me, patience is equal to and directly related to faith. And I have been "ye of little" for a long time now. I think it happened two years ago, when I finally got up the courage to ask for love in my annual Christmas wish, and two months later lost my dog. I was angry. And I never said it. I just questioned and questioned and questioned. And it began a cycle of questioning that I still live with every day. And I understand the substance of faith is about living without question. Believing in what will be and must happen and can come to pass. But, I felt robbed. And so I set up this pattern of no faith. Or some faith. The truth is that I am lost without it. We all are. But, me, I've lived that way. Through some horrible awful stuff, I marched on because I knew God had a plan for me, and I believed it would be the best plan. Now, I feel forgotten.

I've got some soul-searching to do. And in the meantime, I need to make myself believe just for short instances that we all deserve a little goodness, a bit of reprieve, moments of peace and love...you and me. I'll just have to breathe into it, in out, until it brings some harmony to my chaos.