Saturday, January 10, 2015
If I didn't look up then I would not have looked out on to the Pacific, and I would not have just noticed the Grey whale that spouted in front of my home and caused me to run outside with my husband not far behind me as I yelled "WHOOOOO-HOOO" at the top of my lungs. I would not have chuckled when my husband told me that I yelled so loud that I frightened the whale away. I would not have stood there for fifteen minutes, eyes firmly glued upon the water, feet firmly planted on the bluff, adrenaline pulsing wildly throughout my entire body. I would not have followed that whale with my eyes as it lazily swam underneath the pier, leaving me with a ferociously beating heart and an unexpected adrenaline rush.
What might you have missed today that would have left you feeling alive?
Saturday, July 26, 2014
The humidity is staggering today as I sit confined to my bedroom, one of the only places in our home that actually has air-conditioning. You have been on my mind a lot, lately. Yes, YOU. My lovely, intelligent, sensitive, dynamic, unique blog readers, especially the ones who have stuck with me during my unplanned, unannounced, fade-into-the-ethers blog hiatus. I love you for sending me private notes, for continuing to check in on my blog, for knowing what I mean when I discuss my "Angel Daughters" in other places on social media. I adore you for cajoling me, for gently poking at me, and for not forgetting about me. I am not exactly sure why, but something shut down inside of me about a year ago. I began to seriously lose/doubt my writing voice and it started to frighten me…A lot. I believe that I was born with a "writer's soul" meaning that it feels very natural for me to paint my life in words and for most of my twenties and thirties, I kept that portion of my soul buried deep within my life of domesticated, wedded, maternal, Orange County lifestyle bliss. I put everything, and I mean everything, into raising my Angel daughters and maintaining a lovely marriage, family and home, but there was definitely a price to be paid for all of that loveliness because when the roles began to shift and I was not needed as much, I did not have a place to turn my attentions to. I am not at all saying that I would choose a different path if I could go back to those decades when being a wife and mother was more than enough. I am not even saying that in retrospect, I would have done very much differently because the product of all that I put in is a very successful husband who still loves me deeply after almost thirty years of marriage as much as I do him, and four incredible daughters who really are angels in so many ways. But, the thing about being in my early(very early) fifties now, is that I do have the luxury of hindsight and reexamination and reconsideration which is forcing me to take inventory as to what worked and what did not work so well. And one of the things that might not have worked quite so well for me is what I gave up as an individual and as a soul on a singular journey alongside a tribe of other souls whom I adore with all my heart. It really is not so much about what I gave up because what I gave up in some areas, I gained in other areas tenfold. It is much more about the things that I did not do for myself. I allowed myself to get lost in the mix of the lives that surrounded mine(and this includes those outside of my immediate family) in a way that caused me to forget who I am, who I was before I became a devoted wife and mother. I immersed myself so deeply, so fervently into who I always knew that I wanted to be, that I lost track of my own spirit and the things that called out to me as a singular person. I lost hold of those other things that define who we are and what we should explore in order to still remain relevant to ourselves. I completely ignored my writer's soul when I should have taken the time to nurture that part of myself. I dismissed my own needs as a separate entity when there was someone or something else that seemed more worthy(or more needy) of my time and attention. I allowed the voices of those around me to drown out that of my own. I allowed myself to wilt as they blossomed. None of this was intentional on anybody's part. It just happened. I am not placing the blame for this on anyone, including myself. Self-blame would only continue the pattern and that is something that I do not wish to continue. I will acknowledge the fact that I became who I am, who I was, because I did not have a proper role model. My own mother would tell you that she was a "stay-at-home" mother meaning that she stayed at home when my brother and I were in school, and then mysteriously disappeared on the days when we were actually at home. She would flit around with her friends going shopping or to lunch, never doing anything much of substance. Or she would send us to camp during the summers, much to my protest…Anything to get us "out of her hair". It felt like outright rejection to me and although I cannot speak for my brother, I do believe that the effect was even more profound for him than it was for me. Even my father, who did take the time to show me affection and attention when he was around, often made me feel insignificant by spending so much time away from our family by going on "business trips" and also by pursuing women outside of his marriage to my mother. He was a very strong father figure but he was(is) also extremely expert at compartmentalizing the different aspects of his life which is something that I realized and understood at an unusually young age. My earliest memory of this was when I was around eight years old and my dad would bring my brother and I into his office once in a while. He had a lovely secretary named Jennifer who I was also particularly smitten with. She was young and beautiful and smiled at my brother and I a whole lot when we would go in to visit. And even though she was seemingly wonderful, I would get a very strange sensation in the pit of my stomach when she would greet us, for I somehow knew that it wasn't just the fact that my brother and I were exceptionally adorable children that caused her to be so Popsicle-sweet. She was trying to impress my father. And as I look back now through much older and wiser eyes, I understand that Jennifer's focus was on my dad and not what pinchable cheeks my little brother had. I liked her and I felt abject contempt for her all at the same time. It is sad that an eight year old child was placed in a position that caused so much ambivalence at such an early age. It is sad that my parental role models taught me more about how I would behave as an adult not through their positive behaviors, but through the selfish behaviors that I would most adamantly try to avoid as an adult, wife and mother. I became just about everything that my parents, most especially my mother, were not. Extensibly, I worked very hard to encompass the qualities that my parents lacked the most, so that I would be a good wife, mother, daughter, granddaughter, sister, aunt and friend. I would include my daughters in my social activities. I would spend summers participating in outings along with my children. I would be present and not just pretend that I was. These were the most mindful years of my life. And yet, like my parents who successfully failed both my brother and me, I ended up failing someone very important too. Myself.
I am entering my fifty-third year of life as of about two weeks ago. Even at fifty-two years old, I know that I still have so many lessons to learn, only during this second half of my life(give or take a few) I believe that the lessons will be meant to be more about fine-tuning myself. My parents are getting not just older, but old, and with their progressing years they are becoming more like abhorrent teenagers who are definitely not as cute as they used to be. They are teaching me to be much more self-protective and much, much more forgiving…to myself. I can no longer languish in the self-serving nature of the expectations that they have set for me without also allowing myself to expect a certain level of respect and honor for me, their only child. I am, I have been, and I will continue to be a good daughter, step-daughter, wife, mother, daughter-in-law, friend, etc. as long as there is the balance of reciprocation in these relationships. I am not even requiring that the reciprocation be equal, just present. There will be a lot for me to muddle through as I decide where, when and how the boundaries will establish and reestablish themselves, time and time again. And if someone wants to be exceedingly angry with me for no valid or apparent reason I will no longer beg for their forgiveness. I will only forgive myself for not being the person that they would like to try to make me into. I will float above the guilt that I used to drown in. I will let them do them, and I will do me.
I will say it here as it will force me to be much more accountable from now on out. I am going back to exploring my writer's soul. Writing brings me clarity and balance and peace. Seeing my own words reflected back at me on a page allows me to feel validated in a way that nothing else does. It makes me feel heard and uninterrupted. I cannot be cut short by spasmodic breaks in my train of thought when I write. And because I am also a good listener, certain people cannot resist the temptation to take advantage of the spotlight that I seem to provide when they inadvertently interrupt what I might be saying out loud. Writing allows me to be heard without constant fits and starts that cause me to give up trying. One of my goals is to write a book. In order to accomplish this, I will have to honor the part of myself that is a writer. I will need to become more authentic about how I present my own story and if there are certain people who are a part of my story who might not like or appreciate what I have to write about them, then that will have to become a part of their life-lesson, no longer mine. Maybe it would have done them some good to have behaved better, kinder, more thoughtfully, or more respectfully. My story is about me, not about them. We are all adults here.
*If anyone has any suggestions about how to get started in a regular writing routine, please do share them with me! I would love some feedback about this as a fledgling writer whose wings are still quite wet!
And now, a few photos of the Four Angel's Momma family to catch everyone up a bit! I promise more in the near future. I hope that everyone is well!
So happy together.
|Angel Daughter Number Three and my beloved Angel Husband, Mark.|
|Angel Daughter Number Two and her sweet boyfriend, Justin. AD4 is holding their puppy Layla Rose.|
|Angel Daughter Number One enjoying her 27th Birthday in June!|
|Angel Daughter Number Four is still dancing her heart out!|
Monday, October 7, 2013
chakra or something that is blocked within my soul. I do know that the physical feeling occurs right in the center of my heart and extends down into the upper left side of my stomach. It is an anxious sensation and once it hits, I have a difficult time moving past it. Most of the time, I just go on to something else because it feels futile when I do not understand its origination to begin with. I always feel much lighter after writing. It is kind of like putting the words into a helium balloon and just setting them free into the universe. It is a very positive experience for me and yet, this stagnating fear... Definitely something worth exploring but I don't even know how or where to begin. Anybody else dealing with this kind of thing? I would love to know what you might wrestle with and how you manage to move past the fear. Please feel free to share in the comments or email me if you have had any success in this area. It really helps to hear from others who have been through, or might be going through the same thing.
In the photo above, my dad is standing in for Angel Daughter Number Four which is why he is squatting down. It is his sense of humor which I cannot apologize for because I definitely inherited it. I get him but I can always spot the poor individuals who just don't. They usually aren't sure if he is kidding or being serious. Then they look over at me. The blank stares tend to give it away. Sometimes I try to explain but it is usually futile because, well, he is my dad, and it is sort of hard to explain...
But mainly there was love and joy and lots of I'll see you soons which are all a part of the journey. All part of taking flight. All a part of our family history.
Ah, the tender, lingering sweetness of it all.
Monday, June 10, 2013
So here we all are in the month of June. Angel Daughter Number One will be turning twenty-six at the end of this month which is almost hard for me to fathom as in my own mind, she is still a very young woman. Truthfully, I am finally coming to the conclusion that this child of mine is finished being a child. This has been a somewhat difficult concept for me to grasp as she has always been so easy to mother which makes it even easier for me to continue doing so.(She is a pretty good sport about it.) But she does not really need me to do that part of the job anymore. I mean, I know that she will always need me to be her momma, but as far as the unasked-for advice, etc., etc., I would rather not sound like the adults in the Charlie Brown cartoons. I am learning to back off. I am learning that when she needs me, she will come to me. I am learning that AD1 is pretty much cooked. I definitely cannot complain. Look at my girl, she is self-assured, considerate, compassionate and beautiful. As her momma, there is nothing that I could wish for her to be that she is not already in the process of achieving. It is a little bit frightening to know that I am on my way out of a job that I have so loved doing for twenty-six years, but this is the truth whether I want it to happen or not so I might as well enjoy the process.
Angel Daughter Number Three just completed her AA degree from a community college, received her first "A" in math, ever, and will be moving on to attend a college that is nine hours away in August to complete her Bachelor's Degree in Psychology.(Just like her momma:)) In some ways, AD3 is our late bloomer, but she is also very thorough in making sure that she is comfortable with one step in life before she moves on to the next one. It is going to be very difficult when she leaves, I am fully aware of that and I know that I will come down with another case of "empty-nest syndrome" when she goes. She has been dating Zach for a couple of months now. He is the brother of AD1's boyfriend, Matt. They fell pretty fast and quick when they met and have been inseparable ever since. I'm not exactly sure how the Universe is going to work this one out come August, but it is all part of the major scheme so I am confident that if they want it to work, it will. Mark and I both really like Matt and Zach so if things are somehow meant to be, we would not complain. Life has a funny way of working things out, so we shall see what happens in the future.
Angel Daughter Number Four...What can I say about this little bundle of teenage energy. She is like a whirlwind of enthusiasm and kinetic chatter that bounces from moment to moment, place to place, leaving people smiling from ear to ear in her path. And although she is in the midst of her final year as a teenager, she is finally now going through a somewhat rebellious stage. I should have known that it was coming. It is normal and healthy and necessary. I was just sort of hoping that we could just skip that portion of the process with this mostly happy, mostly agreeable little soul. AD4 is still dancing up a storm, going to college, and working while also keeping up with her full social calendar. Her ability to bring people joy through the art of dance is mesmerizing and I am so proud of her confidence and skill. I only hope that she takes full advantage of the natural ability that has been given to her so that she does not look back with any regret. She truly is that good.