The Power of the Tribe

Good morning friends and Happy Monday!  I must admit...my bed was very cozy this morning but alas, when the dog has to go outside, you've got no choice but to throw back the covers and greet the day!

I am deep in thought over the events of the past weekend.  Reflection leads me to perusing the last several weeks, last several months, last several years.  As you all know, I began a journey more than a year ago, to reclaim my life, my health, my peace of mind. This journey has been fascinating in so many ways.  For example, I found myself doing something this past weekend that 12 months before, I would have never done.  I physically couldn't have done it...and because of those limitations, it would have never been a thought to begin with.  But here we are, a year later, 118 pounds gone, and I am surrounded by a group of women, several of whom I only recently met, that provide unconditional support and motivation.  Being around this group has given me a brand-new perspective on life, on myself, on my goals and my ability to achieve them.  In fact, in a recent discussion with a dear friend, and a member of this group, we both shared that we have a newfound peace in our life that neither of us has felt in a long time...and for myself, I can probably say never.

My theory is this...women have a difficult time in relationship with other women.  Some will read this statement and disagree, but this forum for me is about keeping it real and thus I don't hesitate to put all my 'ish out there.  I struggled with female friendships all through my youth, my teenage years, my twenties and even thirties. ("Mean Girls" was not made without merit, y'all!)  And yes, I get there are plenty of women who go through their lives with their bff's and don't experience anything negative, ever.  But you are far and few between, my fair ladies.   For many women, it starts when we are very young, intensifies in middle and high school, gets a little trickier in college and hides itself in the 20's.  I honestly believe that it's not until we are in our 30's (and for some of us even later) when we finally realize that as women, we do so much better when we lift one another.  It's a tough, competitive world as it is...and we all need our champions.  There is something magical that happens when women champion one another.  If only we learned this earlier in our lives, the world be full of strong, empowered women supporting one another!

I started a class recently.  A six-week class that I invited a friend to take with me.  She and I have been on the same journey of sorts and I thought she would enjoy it.  At the very least, I thought it would entertain us.  Neither of us anticipated the strength that we would gain from it.  It isn't the content necessarily.  Yes, there were some definite aha moments throughout but I've been in therapy for years so there are many things that I kind of, sort of, already have explored.  What the class did was bring those things to reality once again..but with the unconditional support of my fellow "sisters."  It created a safe space where we could put all of our insecurities out there with no fear of judgement.  Instead we received unconditional love, right where we were.  Being with my therapist is always a safe space for me but let's face it.  My therapist doesn't love me.  My sisters...they do!  Over the course of these six weeks, new friendships formed, healing began to occur, the participants became stronger, and we all stepped outside of our comfort zone a little.   The bond formed early on  and the end of the six weeks, it was clear that these women were now my tribe.  In fact, we are all each other's tribe.  I can't quite explain the feeling that comes with it, but it's a powerful one.  And it's a comforting one.

It's not that I haven't had friendships until this point of my life.  I've had lots of them.  And still do, but I have often struggled.  Take my very best friend from high school.  We were inseparable.  I was the maid of honor in her wedding.  She later became my son's godmother.  After her separation, she decided that it was ok to sleep with my boyfriend.  In the course of one weekend my world shattered.  I lost my best friend. I lost a man that I was crazy about. And my son lost his Godmother. Later, I would form a close friendship with a coworker. I supported her through the loss of her mother, her divorce, and the breakup of the first relationship she had after her divorce.  I got a promotion at work. She got envious.  I would later form another very close friendship with a coworker.  She died.  (Gosh do I miss her!).  What I am trying to portray is the pattern.  My bff's either betrayed me...or left me. Hence, I did not have the kind of bonds with women that were portrayed on "Sex and the City" or "Waiting to Exhale."  But oh, how I wanted them!  Who wouldn't? The group of women represented in these fictional writings were all powerful, independent women that supported each other through triumphs and tragedies...with an equal outpouring of love.  That is what I found when I happened upon my "tribe" and it has given me a source of strength that propels me forward.  I know without a doubt that these women will be there to listen, lift me up, share honesty, celebrate and pass the Kleenex along with the ice cream if need be.  Without hesitation. Without judgement.  Without prejudice.  How powerful is it to know that you've got a group of people that have your back no matter what?  To have a group of people that you can be your most vulnerable with and not be afraid of the backlash?  How often do we as women keep silent about our failures or don't taunt our successes because well, that would not be ladylike? How often do we defer to others in even the simplest of things such as "where do you want to go to dinner?"  And, how often are we the ones to compromise in relationships...all relationships...to keep the peace even when we know inherently that there are things we shouldn't compromise on?

This is what my tribe has taught me.  No, not taught, just reminded me emphatically.  "I am the total f'cking package."  And I deserve to live my life accordingly.

Ladies, get yourself a tribe.  It will be the best gift you give yourself, ever. 

PS to my tribe members...I love you and appreciate you all!

Peeling Away the Layers

Good morning friends!  It's early morning and I feel like I'm the only one awake!  I do love the serenity this time of day brings.  It allows me to reflect and focus, and if I listen to the quiet very closely, I can hear the sounds of the day just beginning.  The cars and trucks that drive by in the distance; the birds (yes even this time of year there are birds); my dog issuing a bark or two in response to a noise that surely means there is another animal in the vicinity; the hum of my refrigerator; and the very welcome sounds of the Kuerig machine hard at work.

As I gather my thoughts today, I reflect on the process of "peeling away the layers."  I've been doing this in therapy, on and off, for years.  I started when my son's father and I broke up; got through the process until I felt whole once again; and have gone back in, on and off, since then.

There are some who attach a stigma to therapy.  And for those that do, I don't mind telling you that you're wrong.  Therapy is healthy.  (Try it...you'll see!)  What I've discovered is that in order for it to work, truly work, you must be willing to peel away the layers; to be vulnerable; to look deep inside yourself and confront all those things that have been crippling you throughout your life. Yep...you have to be willing to admit that there's some f*cked up crap to deal with.  The beauty of this is this....we all have some crap.  Not one of us gets off this earth unscathed.  Bam!  Doesn't that make you feel better?

Peeling away the layers is a painful process.  It forces us to look at things from our past, to look at ourselves, to realize the consequences of our actions, to confront our childhoods, and to have those aha moments when you suddenly realize the patterns you've been repeating over and over and over again.  No one wants to open these wounds....but it's the first step to healing.

Why is it that we are so conditioned to bottle things up?  To pretend that things are good when they aren't?  To keep hidden those things that prevent us from moving forward?   To let fear lead us and in this process, defeat us?

I think it's the vulnerability of it all.  Most of us attach weakness to vulnerability, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

Vulnerability is defined as the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.  Wow!  Isn't it quite brave, then, to be vulnerable?  Think about it!

We are conditioned to love the heroes.  It's all over tv, in movies, in our favorite books and our favorite Netflix series!  The heroes are the ones that rush right into the heat of things even though danger lurks on the horizon.  We all applaud them and cheer for them to succeed...and all of us know that in the end they will no matter how many obstacles are thrown in front of them.  Why, then, aren't we our own heroes?

I made a decision to change my life and I've done quite well with it these past couple of years. BUT, I knew I needed to make a change a long time before I started making it. I kept moving forward and then moving backwards, repeating patterns, retreating into my comfort zone (no matter how unhealthy that comfort zone was), and then moving forward again.  It took a major leap to keep moving forward but when I started to, I felt a shift around me.  I became happier. I recognized, and stopped myself, from repeating patterns.  I tried exciting new things.  I set boundaries. I became more productive at work.  I surrounded myself with only those people that lifted me up.  I didn't dread getting out of bed in the morning.  I smiled more at people passing by.  I found joy in every day things.  I met new amazing people that are inspirational to me and I connected with them over things that I care deeply about.  I opened up more and in this process found kindred spirits that provide unconditional love and support.  In short, I became my own, hero rushing into the heat of things, knowing that in the end, I will succeed.

Life is not meant to live small.  Many of us are stuck in a place of survival, but we are not in a place of living.  I want to encourage you to take a step toward vulnerability.  It is perhaps the bravest thing you will ever do.  And once you take this step, you will begin to heal and your life will be remarkable in ways that you could not have imagined.

Don't be afraid...so many wonderful things await!

Shoveling Snow with a Seven-Year-Old

It's New Year's Day and I am contemplating taking down all the Christmas decorations.  It took me a while to get them all up this year and I lament that I am not quite ready to put away all the pretty lights.  I turn my attention instead to cleaning and I am deep in thought as I flit around my house readying for the company I will have this afternoon.  My mind wanders through all of the events of the past week...some highs and some lows...but my thoughts keep going back to the snow that we had on Thursday.  This, I think, was the highlight of my work week.

I am not a fan of snow.  I don't terribly mind it but I hate the inconvenience of it. The messy roads. The way it affects my very fashionable boots.  The dirt that is tracked into the house and all over my hardwood floors.  And the shoveling of the driveway.  I don't have a particularly large driveway but it's big enough to fit about five cars and for a party of one, that's a pretty big task at the end of a busy day.  But snow it did on Thursday...not very much...but enough to require the shoveling of the driveway.

This past work week was a little unusual.  I think holiday weeks in general are more slow paced. Many people take the week off and the mood for those that are working is festive.  Holiday parties and open houses are quite the norm.  My week was unusual because I got to spend it with a seven- year-old.

One of the perks of my job is that it offers a very flexible environment.  So, when my friend needed someone to watch her daughter over school break, it was generally understood that she is welcome at my office.  Anyone that knows this seven-year-old knows she is not just any seven-year-old. She is exceptional on many fronts.  Not only does she fully understand the chronic illness her mother lives with, but she has taken on this cause as her own, volunteering many hours in many ways. And thus, my office, she says, is her office and she loves coming to work.  She has a desk that she has claimed as her own and she is as comfortable inside the setting of these four walls as I am.  She should be...she's been coming here for the past five years.  I've seen her blossom from an adorable two-year- old to a beautiful seven-year-old wise beyond her years but very much possessing the playfulness that she should at her young age.  It's an interesting contrast to see because to have a conversation with this young lady is an experience in and of itself.  She talks with the wisdom of someone four times her age and in the next breath she giggles with all the innocence she possesses in her soul.

This seven-year-old recently named me her Godmother.  Yes, I know that's not how it normally happens, but she asked me, very matter of fact, "can you be my Godmother because my Godmother died."  I know the duties of a Godmother because I once named one for my child.  This is not an invitation I take lightly.  Agree to it I do because you don't say no to something that God is directing.

Knowing that I am her "godmother" this seven-year-old seems to have a whole new appreciation and dare I say, love for me.  It has filled my heart in countless ways.  As I have seen my own son grow into a young man that I am very proud of, I have seen him bond with this child as well. He accepts her as part of our family and this means, according to my new Goddaughter, that he is her "God brother." One of the things I am most proud of is my son's ability to accept people no matter their life circumstances.  He judges no one and holds no prejudice.  He, for all intents and purposes and according to today's society, has lived a privileged life.  That may be very true, but he also understands that everyone has a journey, we are all children of God, and we all have a responsibility to do the best we can for each other.  These are traits he shares with his new God sister and so I believe that both her and her mom were placed in our lives in a divine manner.
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Thus, my Goddaughter and I spent the week at my office.  She working at her desk and playing school in our conference room; me accomplishing what I can in between the questions that come from her.  We enjoyed Panera Bread for lunch every day and we got to have very interesting conversations during this time about many things.  School, Christmas, her siblings and step siblings, Santa and Jesus.  Knowing the roads were a little messy on Thursday, I thought we should leave the office and meet her mom at my house.  It would be easier for her mom and I would get home to shovel the driveway earlier.  My Goddaughter totally agreed and said to me "that's a really good idea.  Let's go slow and be safe."  Good advice, I thought!

We approach my house and I pull into my garage.  As we get out of the car I ask her if she wants to help me shovel.  I was joking...sort of...because I didn't really think a seven-year-old could master a shovel.  But, she was very enthusiastic about it...far more enthusiastic than me...and far be it for me to dampen her spirit.

We set out about the work at hand...she at the top of the driveway and me at the bottom.  While I labored over it trying to get it done as quickly as possible, she was laughing, asking me to watch her, approaching the task very meticulously.  If she missed a spot, she went back and got it.  If the pile she was making somehow fell, she went back and fixed it.  She giggled when she slipped and fell and got right back up again to finish her chore.  When we met in the middle she very readily told me she would finish.  Her mom arrived and she wanted her mother to wait until she was done "working" before they left.  She exclaimed multiple time that she was having so much fun.  And her mom and I watched in amusement as she conquered the use of the shovel and the clearing of the driveway.

Later that night as I went outside to turn the holiday lights off, I looked at my driveway, nice and clean, and in wonder that something that delighted a seven-year-old caused much anxiety in me.  There was a time when I loved snow.  When I was a seven year old, perhaps.  I remember sledding, ice skating, building snowmen...and enjoying all these activities with my own child. Somewhere along the way I lost the beauty and the wonder of this magical gift from Mother Nature.  Adulting is like that at times.  We forget to enjoy all the wonders of life and become so focused on what we must accomplish that we don't always see the beauty of that which is in front of us.

I remember how much this young lady laughed as she set about the "work" of clearing the driveway and I thought to myself...why could I not view it this way? The snow is beautiful, actually.  The purity of it; the way it sparkles against the streetlights and the colors of the holiday lights that adorn my house; the familiar crunch under my feet; and the way my dog delights in it as she runs through the yard sticking her nose in it time and time again and jumping up in what seems to be pure delight.

 I stared at the snow a little longer, took in the crispness of the air, and decided to leave the holiday lights on for all those that happen to be driving by to enjoy.  Yes, life is full of wonder and reminders of that come every day.  I want to embrace the wonder.  I hope that when I fall into a funk, I remember the day I shoveled snow with a seven-year-old.

Gratitude...and reflections of 2016

Hello everyone.  It's been a while since I've written and I'm feeling a little guilty about that.  Truth be told, I've had a very hard time finding inspiration.  That sounds strange since there have been many things this year that I felt like screaming out loud about.  But every time I sat down to write I simply could not find the words.  I'm not even certain they will come now, but we are nearing the end of 2016 and so the adage goes, out with the old, in with the new.  It seems a perfect time to reflect on the past year and shed the things that weigh us down.  This is a process many of us go through and it helps us to approach the new year with optimism, hope, and resolve.  It's been a tough one on many fronts but despite the challenges it brought many lessons and many blessings.

I first want to talk about the election.  This election was unlike any other that I have seen in my lifetime.  It divided the country unlike anything I have witnessed in my five decades on earth.  Not only did it bring racism and prejudice in front of all of us, but it also had a dramatic effect on families and longtime friendships.  I am pretty open about my political beliefs but never more than this year was I outright criticized for believing what I believe and voting for whom I voted for.  This, despite my public declaration time and time again, that I support everyone's right to choose their candidate. Regardless of the criticism sent my way, I stand by my ideals and appreciate the opportunity this election provided for dialogue.  Seek first to understand and then to be understood is a very good lesson in the presidential election of 2016.  No matter what side of the political coin any of us are on, I believe that understanding points of view holds the key to uniting us as we go forward.  The most positive thing to come of this election, for me, is that I connected with an amazing group of people that are concerned about the issues I am and together we are proactively organizing activities that can have a positive impact.  It feels good to do something.  And never have I been more motivated to do something than now.  For that, I am thankful.  

2016 brought losses of iconic figures.  A long list of legends that touched our lives in one way or another.  These losses saddened many of us.  What strikes me, though, is how fortunate we are to feel this loss.  Without it, we would have never known the films, the music, the writing, the history, the legends.  To feel the loss means that somehow our lives were touched forever and what a blessing that is.

2016 also brought me an inherent drive to focus on my health - physical, spiritual and emotional.  For many, many years I focused on all things but me and in this process, I suffered.  I was doing a great job of taking care of everyone else but not so much when it came to me.  I became isolated.  My pattern was work, home, and back to work again.  I lost joy.  I lost passion.  I lost happiness.  My dad's passing shook me to the core but it also propelled me in a way that I hadn't been moved in a very long time.

My dad wanted certain things for me and in his passing, I wanted to honor his wishes.  So, I set out on a journey to restore my soul.  I wanted to fix all the things that were broken in me.  This process took some serious self-reflection.  The bad personal choices, the toxic people I let into my life, the wall that I built to keep all things positive out, and the smile that I placed on my face to fool the world...all had to go.  It's scary to embark on a journey like this but the thing about it is that once you take the first step, and then the second, and then the third...it becomes easier and easier. Every step I took motivated me to take the next.  I found empowerment in saying no and setting boundaries.  Strength in ridding toxicity from my life.  Self-awareness from remembering who I was. And purpose by focusing on the things that nurture my spirit.

I make no apologies for who I am.  My mistake for a very long time was in believing that I somehow was not good enough.  I am damn good enough.  That does not mean I am perfect.  I am far from it. I am human and I make mistakes...lots of them.  I say snarky things at times.  I am a bit stubborn.  I get moody.  I obsess about things.  I am misunderstood and I misunderstand.  But my heart is sincere and I've learned to accept myself, flaws and all.  This acceptance has brought forgiveness and it has removed guilt.  And thus, I have peace in my soul.  And that is perhaps the biggest blessing of 2016.

2016 also brought changes in personal as well as professional relationships.  This process left me baffled at times.  We all have people in our lives that we know shouldn't be there but for whatever reason, we let them linger.  We think it will get better.  We think we can love them into wholeness. We think that if we remain loyal friends, the loyalty will be returned.  I had to learn many lessons about the circle I was surrounding myself with.  As I let people go (and as people let me go), what blossomed was truth.  There are some people in your life that say they are your champion, but when the going gets too tough, they bail.  There are others that are in your life simply for what you can do for them and as soon as you fulfill that purpose, they also bail.  This reality hurts.  But the pain is more than overcome when the truth surfaces.  You see who your true champions are.  Those that encourage you on your journey and want you to grow.  Those that see beauty in your flaws.  Those that will stand in the center of the fire with you and not shrink back.  These people surfaced for me this year.  Some I knew were there all along but I took for granted.  Others came from out of nowhere and fed my soul.  And I am thankful for each and every one of you.  My journey to be whole continues...but I am so blessed to have people in my life that are moving me forward.

As 2016 comes to a close, I find myself more optimistic than I have been in a long time.  I remain focused on my goals and have learned to not let self-doubt deter me.  I've learned to turn negativity off and to shut it down before it takes hold.  I take lessons as blessings.  I am thankful for those in my life who motivate me and those who call me on my crap.  Thankful for those that challenge me even if the challenge comes from out of nowhere.  Everything does not have to be all wine and roses in order to be great,  I am looking forward to 2017 and the things it will bring.  As I say goodbye to 2016, I say it with hope, optimism, and humility.  I don't have a lot of New Year's resolutions to share other than this....I'm going to continue trying.

Happy New Year everyone!

Dear Dad

Hard to believe, but it's been one year since you left us.  We've somehow managed to survive the year of the "firsts."  The first birthdays -- yours and ours; the first Father's Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, snowfall, summer and this day.  A year ago I could not fathom how things would change or how we would survive, yet somehow we did.  We've had lots of tears along the way but somewhere through the darkness we found laughter.  Days are not easy but in my heart I know you are with us, watching over and guiding us.

Life is different without you here.  There is a definite emptiness that will never go away, though every day I learn to cope in new ways.  Rather than reflect on the sadness of this day, I wanted to take a few minutes out and let you know what has transpired over the past year...the things that I think would make you most proud.  Things we used to talk about often.  I share them today because I want you to know that I listened...even when you think I didn't.

First, I have made a conscious effort to rid toxicity in my life.  Those people that bring a dark cloud with them...I've eliminated them from my life or I've found a new way to cope with them that doesn't bring me down.  I choose to stay in a positive place and I don't let people steal my joy...not anymore.

I work less hours.  I make a decision every day to stop work at a reasonable hour and just go and enjoy.  Enjoy time with Joey, my animals, the quietness of my house, the company of friends, the beauty of the outdoors.  You always worried about the long hours I was putting in...and finally I have slowed down.  And guess what...the work still gets done!

I've taken control of my health.  This is something you always worried about and wanted me to do and finally I am doing it.

I have learned how to say no and to set boundaries.  You always told me not to let people take advantage of me...and while I never considered myself a pushover, I know I did too much for people and I have finally found the empowerment to say no.

I spend my time on things that truly matter to me.  Not just my work - but other things that have given me a new purpose, such as the Parkinson's organization.  I honor you through doing what I can for this organization and it fills me with joy.

Perhaps the biggest things is this....We spend more time together as family....all of us.   We always did spend time together but the things we've gone through the past year have made us stronger and closer...and I know it makes you happy to see that the bond is stronger than ever.

As I look back through my life, my childhood, teenage years, and adult years, I know that I am blessed because you are my father.  You taught me so much, believed in me, encouraged me and supported me through everything...even when you knew I was making mistakes.  I love you and miss you every single day but I am so very thankful that God gave me you as my dad.

Love you Dad.  Please keep watching over us.

Presents for my Father

Father's Day is coming.  Reminders are all around us.  We see it on TV and hear it on the radio.  It's flooding social media.  There are many wives, sons and daughters preparing for this day, all wondering what they can do to honor the number one man in their lives.  And there are many, like me, who will be facing this day in a brand-new way.

It's been nine months since my dad passed. It doesn't seem like that much time could have gone by and yet it is almost one full year.  Almost one full year of grieving, of celebrating holidays and birthdays without his presence, and one full year of learning to live in a new reality.  I am now keenly aware of how a memory shared can bring both joy and sadness with the very same teardrop.

The grieving process is different for all of us.  Some are silent in our grief.  Others speak it out loud.  Some self-destruct.  Others embrace faith.  Some are angry and others learn to live with the celebration of what was.  Some lean on friends and family.  Others retreat into themselves.  I have done all of these things and what I have learned about the grieving process is that it takes as long as it takes.  There is no right or wrong way to process your loss.

I've been told that I'm doing very well.  The reality is that my grieving process started three years ago and in this process, I did self-destruct.  Not intentionally and not outwardly; only those that were closest to me noticed.  It wasn’t the kind of destruction that left me unable to function.  The destruction affected my health and while I've taken steps to get my health back, this too is a process that will take as long as it takes.  I've learned to be gentler on myself, though, and even this is a major victory for me. 

As Father's Day draws near, the rawness of my dad's passing has hit me once again. He won't be here this year for me to purchase a card or a present and I wonder how the day will impact me.  It wasn't that we made a huge fuss about Father's Day.  My dad was never a very ceremonious person.  He didn't want, or need, a lot of presents or fuss.  In fact, the presents I bought for him were often on the practical side.  His favorite thing to get was something quite simple - a gift card to Home Depot.  But I can't buy him a gift card to Home Depot this year or give him a mushy card because despite the practicality of the gifts I gave him, I chose his cards with care because I wanted them to convey just how incredible of a dad he was to me.  I can do none of those things this year and the reality of those words hits me like bitter, cold winter air.

I've been pondering for weeks how to embrace this day just as I’ve been pondering all of the Father's Days before now, wondering how my dad felt when he received his card and his ever so practical gift.  He always said there was nothing he wanted or needed.  Save my money, he would say.    While some dads embrace things like Yankee tickets, my dad was most content fixing things and caring for his animals - those that were part of the family and the many others that just happened to wander by.  He lived very quietly and privately and I now recognize the influence this has had over me.  I too live very quietly and privately and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  In recognizing this simple truth, I also recognize that the true presents I gave my father were not the material ones.  The "gifts" I presented my father through the years were those that showed him he did a pretty good job of parenting me.

All we truly want as parents is for our children to learn to fly.  We want them to chase and accomplish their dreams.  I know these are the things my father wanted for me; to pursue the things I was passionate about.  He wanted me to live my life in a positive way and to continually learn and to grow.  He wanted me to have joy in my life.  And as I wait for Father's Day and whatever emotions this day will bring, I take comfort in knowing that I did, and continue to, give my father the "presents" he truly wanted.

My dad was proud of me. He told me that often.  It gave me great pride to share with him the work that I am very passionate about.  Some of my greatest moments of joy were when I introduced him at functions and simply said "this is my dad."  Thus, as I approach Father's Day this year, I know that while there is nothing material I can buy nor will I be able to see my father, I know he will be with me.  His influence is with me every single day and I think that that in and of itself is the greatest gift I can give him.  I turned out to be a fairly decent human being who chased and accomplished much.  One who still pursues her dreams.  One who continues to learn and to grow.  One who has joy in her life.  I am a mom to a wonderful young man that I am so very proud of and my parenting skills, while not perfect, are pretty good.  I've made many mistakes in my life but I've learned from every single one of them.  I've done more good than harm.  I live simply and quietly and do my best every single day to make a difference.  In my quest to honor my dad, I renew this commitment every day.

To my dad, I want to say thank you.  Thank you for believing in me and for always encouraging me.  Thank you for picking me up every time I fell down.  Thank you for giving me the reality checks when I needed them.  Thank you for pushing me when I needed that, too, and for being gentle when you knew that’s what I needed most.  Thank you for teaching me right from wrong and for forgiving me when I did wrong.  Thank you for teaching me how to parent.  More than anything, thank you for loving me.

To everyone who faces Father’s or Mother’s Day without your parents in your lives, know that you are not alone.  Whatever emotion this day brings for you, embrace it fully.  There is no right and no wrong way.  There is no time frame under which you must operate.  Grief takes as long as it takes.  It takes on different forms and its impact is different every single day.  It won't ever go away but it will change over time.  Embrace your journey.  It is yours to process in whatever way you must.

Sending love to you all.  Happy Father's Day Dad.  I love you and miss you so....

Constructs

I have a friend who talks about constructs.  Often.  I must admit I didn't, and still don't, fully understand what he means by this.  I get the general idea...a label that we put on our existence, a box that we build ourselves into, a way we approach our lives that I think, at least in terms of me, he feels is limiting.  In a recent telephone conversation, he said half jokingly that, when "I put my finger on my own pulse" (translation - when I stop living inside the constructs I've built for myself), he and I will be more "on the same page."  He shared further wisdom that we all have to be one way in our daytime gigs, but we have to let it down a bit after hours.  I responded that I am pretty much the same person consistently.  This, he says, has not worked for me.  Really?

I found this whole exchange to be interesting.  Ponder it I did.  I had to understand whether I do build myself into constructs that keep me stuck at any given place.  I have never viewed myself as a particularly rigid person.  But surely my friend has a point...he's known me for a very long time.  Thus I wonder...am I rigid?  Do I have a wall surrounding my existence?  Do I use "constructs" as a way to remain in a guarded state?

My friend has a construct.  He even made  a video about it.  He shared openly that in dealing with people, he basically "interviews" them to see if they will fit inside his construct. He is very strict about it and in watching this video again, I've determined that he has been "interviewing" me for months.  Testing me (for reasons I do not understand), and for all intents and purposes, I have failed every single one.  This does not bother me.  What I find curious is that he would test me when he knows I will fail.  He knows this because he knows me.  Hence to "interview" me to see if I will fit inside the walls that he has built...is really kind of pointless.  I don't say that with any kind of attitude.  Frankly, he doesn't fit inside my construct either...but isn't that what makes the world go round?

I live my life a certain way.  I don't allow negativity to affect me.  I surround myself with people and things that nurture my spirit.  I spend time with family and friends.  I work at a job I enjoy.  I volunteer for causes I believe in.  I go to concerts, plays and the bookstore.  I jump in my car and go for long drives.  I wander around small towns because they intrigue me.  I am independent.  Fiercely independent. I enjoy my own company and I'm never at a loss to find something to do.  But, I wasn't always this way.  It took me many years to build to this level of independence.  As you all know from previous posts, I wasn't always comfortable in my own skin.  Because of my insecurity, I didn't always nurture my spirit.  In this process, I sacrificed my sense of self.  It is not a sacrifice I wish to make any longer and in redefining my construct, I realize that I have an IDGAF attitude.  My friend has one, too.  I've been subjected to it on more than one occasion, as recently as this past weekend. 

Here's the thing.  For months we've been dancing around the subject of whether we can do the dating thing.  I want to approach it one way and my friend wants to approach it another.  I've gone down the road that my friend wants me to take - repeatedly - and it has not worked for me.  Sure, I've had some great (and not so great) relationships, but damn I'm too old to throw caution to the wind!  My friend knows where I'm at.  I've told him over and over again...and he has told me over and over again that he gets it and even respects it.  But then here we are...both stuck in our construct.

I really like my friend.  He has many qualities I admire.  He is smart.  He can carry a great conversation.  He challenges me to think.  He writes short stories and poetry.  He plays guitar.  He rides a motorcycle.  He makes me laugh.  He likes the outdoors and finds tranquility in nature.  He's really easy on the eyes.  He's had quite a journey in his life and because of his experiences, he understands people on a very deep level.  I really dig these things about him.  But he is stubborn.  So very stubborn.  He wants what he wants and ya know, that's kinda sexy!  But I am stubborn, too.  So I wonder...how do you move forward when you have two stubborn people, living inside constructs that have been shaped by their experiences?  Don't we have to be willing to give a little?

I've shown my willingness to give a little.  I invited my friend for dinner.  I floated the idea of a get together this past weekend. I've suggested many ways in which we could spend time together that would be low key and fun.  My friend has been amenable and just when I think we are taking a step forward, it ends up being two steps backwards.  I do not feel this is all me.  It takes two people to have a misunderstanding...and two people to fix it.

We have a history, my friend and I.  A very long history of talking for a period of time, then not, then reconnecting.  A history of seeing each other a few times, then not, then reconnecting.  We were young when we met and perhaps the construct of who we were then is overshadowing any possibility of now.  I'm not the same person today that I was then, but neither is my friend.  We don't fit inside each other's construct and I don't think I want us to.  But before you jump to conclusions, let me explain what I mean. 

Partners are supposed to compliment each other.  Help each other evolve to a better state.  How boring would it be to date the mirror image of yourself?  In the months that my friend and I have been talking, I've evolved a bit. Let my guard down a bit.  My friend knows this - he even commented on it.  He's done a little of this, too, but always shuts down on me if things don't go exactly as he envisions them.  Compromise is not something that comes easy to him.  Or at least this is my perception.  But compromise is something that we as adults must do every single day.

My friend is annoyed with me right now, and might be even a little more annoyed after he reads this post.  (Yes I am that convinced he will read it).  And that's ok.  Perhaps I'm calling him on his 'ish, as he's done with me many times.

So friend, let's get over it.  There's a long weekend coming up.  Let's spend some time watching Netflix.  You never know what can develop when you're willing to step outside of your construct and compromise.

Have a great day everyone!