I spend more time happy than I do sad. More optimistic than pessimistic. More positive than negative. It doesn't mean life is easy or simple or kind but I've been practicing the art of being grateful. I say art because like real art it is a skill that can be discovered, worked on and experimented with. Some days I paint bold and vivid scenes of life and all it is and will someday be. But no machine goes without days of needing repair and no artist goes without days of feeling uninspired. This particular Thursday I felt the darkness and sadness knocking quietly at my door.
I began to think about long lost uncles who have decided that it is in their best interest to no longer have contact with their niece and nephew. Nor stay connected enough to even watch from the sidelines. Thoughts of long lost relatives and cousins who seem to have forgotten how to get in touch with me stung as well. I started to think about the family that had such potential to me as a child but has slowly but surely diminished into a few lingering ghosts. As a new mother I gave too much to the potential of this huge family full of love and in the aftermath of time, distance, death and life I found myself feeling a bit lost. I then thought about the friends that were like family and how they too have seemed to drift away as if taken by some huge wave at sea. Memories flooded in and sadness welled up. Life is different in many ways and it was stinging something fierce. I tried to stay unbiased and objective as I reviewed the recent texts sent by a father to a son. I lamented the loss of parents... whether from death or pride. I grew angry at people stuck in loops of childhood thinking in a grown up world. I felt sorry for myself and my children...but only for a moment. I drove home and pondered life. I decided that these heavy thoughts deserved a second 99 cent coffee. DARK CHOCOLATE was a new flavor they were offering. I went for it. As I drank the new flavor and sat in a quiet parking lot waiting for my children to bring the second part of my day to life, I reminded myself of the lessons of the last few years.
1. We make it about us. We do this too often. I've seen it in funny places like status updates on Facebook. A message about something simple becomes some cryptic message meant for someone as they read it. I have over two hundred "friends" on FB...and I bet several think my statement about cleaning out a drawer is somehow about our relationship. We all do this. It's because we think in terms of OURSELVES. So I sat there sipping my mocha goodness and reminding myself that it is about other people and their struggles with life and with themselves that gets placed ONTO me. When I am in wounded I can take things upon myself but when I am healthy I know better.
2. I can only reach out so much out of love and hope. At some point I have to take that love and energy and put it into myself and my closest peeps.
3. I have to be careful to give freely if I do give and to not expect anything. Some people are better at taking than giving. Though some have found a lovely balance and never leave you feeling too full or too depleted...others have not. They take when they need and then they disappear.
4. I have to accept that some people are just the way they are and that their "best" is different from others. I can't compare one to another because it isn't fair.
5. I have to be realistic and respectful of what others are willing to do or give. I can't take it personally if it's who or what they are.
6. I have to take comfort in knowing that though my family tree might be large, the branches and limbs have been weathered in storms. Some are missing. Some are broken. I have to cherish the ones that remain healthy and grow leaves that lead to blossoms and finally fruit.
7. I have to accept that where I am in life is where I am supposed to be right now. Lessons needed to be learned. Some were more painful than others and the healing needs to begin. For real.
8. I also need to practice my peaceful warrior because there are some things that are just not acceptable and I have been too scared to speak out. I am trying and have surpassed my old thinking in many ways but I still have work to do.
9. One of the biggest lessons has been to believe in my inner voice. My sixth sense is a bright and bold one and many years have covered it in layers to insulate the realities around me. I have spent the last few years scrubbing those layers away and it is getting clear to me that I have to follow my gut. No more allowing others to scam me.
10. I also have to take responsibility for things that I have done to get me to this place. Good, bad or indifferent they are all a part of the here and now.
So, yes I could sit here and create a list of the people who have tried to "sell the salesman", rejected an invitation to a dinner with my "offspring" and found ways to sling mud for something that had nothing to do with me. I could whine about the people who are mad at the loss of time and visits and yet have rejected a request for those very same things. I could cry over the potential of new experiences in a new world of healing with those that are too busy to make time for me. Maybe I could let anger seep in and fill the cracks of broken relationships instead of trying to repair the breaks. But then again...that wouldn't be me. So I give myself some time to go to the dark side and swim in the blackened waters of doom, gloom and despair but then I just crank some appropriate music and get myself a new drink and knock it the hell off. We all have crap. I no longer want to be defined by it. I don't want it to be my story. No more martyrs. No more victims. A few sips and few songs later and I'm back. And with each sit up...with each push up...with each climb up the mountain... I am stronger.
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