A Cruel and Wise Friend

Gentle readers....

How goes your journey?  Are you feet tired from walking?  Are you running without tiring?  Is your heart heavy laden?  Are the best days upon you?

My heart is full but my pen is silent.  This happens every once in awhile.  I can't find a way to make the connection from heart to head to paper.  I guess some might call this "writers block." 

I've been trying to make some headway in my seven year itch.  I so desperately am stuck in a phase of, "Please help me get out of the state of New York in whatever means necessary and/or is/as required."   It's pretty bad, friends.  I'm trying so hard to be cool with it, but ick.  I have been so compressed and depressed by the current state of affairs.  I find I am almost no use in conversation because I have absolutely nothing to talk about.  I feel empty and quite void of expression which, for a writer, is like death.  It might sound like an exaggeration, but writers need to engage life, people, experience to find fulfillment, even if these experiences are not pleasant.  A day-to-day life of "get up, go to work, come home, rinse, repeat" is gray.  Writers write and experience in color.  Big, bold, beautiful, emotional colors. 

I've almost put myself in a strict "to do" list phase.  Each part of the day is really a list of things to cross off.  Seeking ways to improve myself, my parenting, my house, my health are all on a daily list.  I am legitimately  proud that I have almost consumed a bottle of vitamins.  I cannot actually say if I have ever done that before.  Prenatal vitamins, what?!  Forget it, they didn't stay down anyway.  If you follow me on social media you will note my exasperation that breakfast mostly contains vitamins and limited amounts of cereal.  But, in the ticking off of that item, I find great pleasure.   It's a mundane pleasure, but it gets me back on track.  It helps me to feel some emotion and that, my dear readers, is the key.  A writer can't live in a world without emotions.

I spent the last year of my life fully engaged outside of my home.  I was completely wrapped up in a world that had no bearing on anything of importance.  Completely wrapped up in it. And it held absolutely no value.  Not for the long term.  When the choice was made to return to myself and my family, I found myself really lost.  Grateful that I had chosen life.  But lost nonetheless. All my NY life was spent there.  Any acquaintances and friendships were left behind.  All my "being needed" was gone. 

This phase is rebuilding and that is mundane; it is not an exciting time for anyone.  Can I say, though, that deep inside I do feel much better about the progression of my life?  Can I say that these times truly are needed?  Being empty and alone, being without life as a runaway train?  Good for the soul.  Really good for the soul. Inventory and evaluation takes place like no other time in your life.  (It's not particularly fun.  I'm certainly not jumping up and down about it.)  But so good.

I am a better mother right in this space than I ever was last year.  That is the honest, discouraging truth.  I am in my kids' business.  I am putting them to work.  I am pushing them to learn. I'm getting them off electronic items and making them play games with me.  I'm encouraging them about life. I'm encouraging them in friendships.  When I can focus on my kids and check that off, I feel good.  I feel a deep joy when I share in their life.  I can still reach into their life, so far, and get us both a little farther down the road. It is increasingly difficult and I am grateful that I am in this space and time with them.  It might have been too late had I left it go farther.

I am working at being better, physically.  I put on a good 10-15 pounds in the last year and I'm just rolling my eyes about it.  It started by being so busy I only had time and effort for copious amounts of Mountain Dew and Reese Eggs and ended with a sitdown job where sluggish days are the thing and I just happen to like Mountain Dew and Reese Eggs.  When I can check off that I've focused on my health, and have done better in this area, I feel good.

Each day is mundane, full of checklists, and time for evaluation.  It isn't full of emotion, but is calculating.  I am in fact trying to decide and make the choice about the seven year itch.  To visualize the success and happiness of my children.  From here the next phase of my life is emptying my nest.  My focus is digging in and getting my kids from point A to point B.  If that means NY is it, then NY is it.  I can choose to be happy and reassert myself into culture.

I don't find after 5 years into New York that I have the same joy that I had 5 years into Utah.  But comparison is the thief of joy.  These are two separate seasons and phases; it is a disservice for me to continue to compare.  "Joy is always with us," as my son once said, "it is happiness that comes and goes."  Happiness is a decision. 

Happiness is something that I can check off, each day, because I have the focus I need.

It's an emotionless gift, for now, but it is a gift.  Not too much farther down the road, I will be giggling with friends and enjoying the sunny days and the grey season of comparison, evaluation and doubt will fall behind.

I hope I remember well the lessons it has taught.  It has been a cruel friend, but a wise one, nonetheless.

The March Fellowship

March has been nothing but snow.  So much snow.  Burying us in, storm after storm.

I'm still hunkered down, armed with all my precious scarves and heated blankets. 

It has been beautiful, though; the snow this time of year is the best.  It is heavy, thick and clings to everything it touches, then, as quickly as it swirled and blanketed, it's completely gone. This is winter and spring joyfully weaving and merging seasons with chaos and caucophony. It is certainly not the gentle passing of summer into fall, when you just can't tell exactly when summer has breathed its last for the year.

I enjoy watching HGTV while the snow falls.  I love to see the various transformations; it is amazing to see what time and lots of money can do.    I like to imagine what things I could or could not do in my own home.  I like to think and plan how to be better.

I've spent a lot of time surviving.  Do you know what it means to spend time surviving?  Getting by.  Dealing with the status quo.  Run the drills for each day.  I made it to work: check.  I made it to play practice: check.  I made it to Bible study: check.  I made it to band rehearsal: check.  I made dinner....uhh....McDonald's drive thru: check.   This is physical survival.  There is also mental and emotional survival.  Just doing.  Just getting by.  Survival is not a phase of actively planning, nor active growth.  It is the March phase, hunkered down, buried in deep, breathing. When I ponder the course of my life, I see March.  I see chaos, caucophony and swirling snow.  I see myself hunkered down, breathing from one phase to the next. 

I forget so much of the early days of motherhood.  Ryan recently asked which one of the kids was the babbler in the restaraunt.  I honestly can't remember.  I remember Noah eating allllll the lemons.  We'd keep him busy by ordering him lemon slices.  He had such a love/hate relationship and he couldn't help himself but to go back for more.  Various memories like that stick out to me, but sometimes you might ask me a specific question and I cannot answer. This might be why it takes a village to raise a child; a group effort to love and remember the details.  I don't discredit myself here because I know it happens to all parents.  You can't memorize everything.

Returning to work was its own phase of chaos.  Do you know the hardest job I ever had paid the least amount of money?  As a nursing assistant, lifting people who had a good 80 pounds on me, wiping diarrhea off bottoms and floors, sweating profusely and never having a minute to look at the clock, I made.....drum roll....eight dollars and fifty cents per hour.  Working and babies and beginning the elementary school years and a lack of sleep.  Chaos.  Sweet chaos.

Add in two cross country moves, military deployments and a million other large and small moments. What is it?  It's March.  Beautiful, exhausting, swirling phases of survival.  Phases where I did not actively plan to make myself better. Phases where I did not implement action plans to be skinny, well-hydrated, kind, compassionate, patient and godly.  I'm sure I talked about all that.  I'm sure I hoped it would be true.  I think this might be where the midlife crisis comes in.  You finally feel like winter has let go and spring has come.  You are entering May....  You have a chance to take off the scarf and breathe.  And you wonder where your life has disappeared.  I don't remember getting older.  I don't remember the long days and short years.  What happened?!

I think it can be scary.

I don't really want to just survive my life.  I want to see the swirling snow of chaos and caucophony and embrace it.  I want to walk through as though in slow motion, undetected like Scrooge, able to nod and recognize and enjoy.  I want to look into the eyes of my little people.  I want to see their happiness and joy and willingly lay mine down in exchange.  This is my beautiful life.  And there is nothing to be scared of.  Except maybe the knowledge that I will never be well-hydrated. 

Life is the sum of moments we did not record or plan.  It is watching a slippery, sour lemon being shoved into a mostly toothless mouth by a chunky blue eyed baby. It's not getting that job. It's eating dry cereal because there is no milk left.  It's staying up late talking with a friend.  It's all the moments that you do not remember that have contributed to making you, you.

I have spent so much of my life surviving and getting through "this situation."  I'm sure I've written about it before, but I am now in a slower phase of life.  Coming upon midlife crisis.  Deciding where my journey goes from here and finding those who go with me. I'm choosing my Fellowship. Based on my last post, I'm pretty sure I will not come up with nine.  But I know there are those out there that come to the secret council even when they have not been summoned.  I'm counting on you.  I'm counting on you for all the necessary hobbit stuff.  Eating. Drinking. Making merry. Epic journeys.  Friendship.

Midlife calls for friendship more than any other phase.  Except. When we get to middle age, we find we were so concentrated on surviving that we've run into coarse, dry, ground.

I'm choosing my Fellowship...  Deciding where my journey goes from here. And who goes with me.

I Have Cookies

I have an insatiable need to be with my people. My tribe. This week I've been grieving that hole in my life. It just bubbled up and I couldn't stop the tears. I have been blessed to know a lot of people in a lot of places. And my heart is scattered all over. I want to bring out the pop, pizza and brownies, turn up the music, bring out the games and laugh. Till I cry.  I do that so very little that I feel my life is currently misspent.

I would love to do that in my own home.  I would love it if I thought someone would come. But New Yorkers are a bit crusty.  It takes a lot of money to live here so everyone works and works and works to pay for life.  I get turned down or "redirected" a lot.

I miss you, dear loved ones everywhere.

My heart really aches today at the loss of you.  At the thought of never feeling like I am really at home here.

I just have to ask more. I have to spread my net farther.

I don't want to have to beg. But would someone drop by? Even right now when I haven't showered or brushed my teeth, I would be so giddy that someone felt comfortable enough with me to be my person.  The person who wants and needs your company. Who swings by for ten minutes of advice and a cookie.

I got Oreos and E L Fudge.  If you stay long enough, I got fresh Toll House....

I know I can do this.  I have confidence in my love of people.  But I'm losing confidence in the love of other people....  In their understanding of the importance of relationships and community.

I think it's going to have to start with me.  I'm going to have to embrace being told, "no."  I'm going to have to bake a lot.  I'm probably going to have to beg.

To my fun-loving tribe. To the people who give of themselves so naturally. You are beloved. You are deeply missed in places I can't explain. And there is a spot for you, right next to me. Always.

Valuable Contributions

There is a line that I hear repeated over and over from those that I love.

Do you have any guesses what it might be?

I hear "I love you" and "I miss you." "I am proud of you" and "Thanks for the meal." 

But one line stings. The truth lingers after the sentence has had time to hang in the quiet, open air. It moves slowly and gains toxicity.  Like a bit of poison that works its way into the bloodstream. 

You need more confidence.

Once upon a time, ages ago, someone reached into my life and stole my confidence.  Completely relieved me of every piece of it. It has been the battle of my lifetime to get it back.  I've had friends for the journey.  I have had friends to confide in. I've had friends to soften the noise of doubt. I've had friends who would allow me to cry.  And I have had a few very dear-to-me souls that have stood in the wings and with great love watched me rise.  Still. There are echoes of the idea that I do not place enough value and confidence in myself.

There are many ways in which one can exercise confidence. Appearance. Abilities. Skills. Knowledge.  Sometimes you shine in some areas. Sometimes you shine in them all.   I struggled most of my life with confidence in my appearance.  It didn't matter what others saw, it mattered what I saw, and I did not like it. I got over that a bit ago. And by "bit," well, we needn't actually suss out the exact time details....

What I do still struggle with, though, is a firm, consistent belief in my abilities.  I doubt that I can make a difference. I doubt that I have made a difference. I could put my whole heart into a task, and feel like I didn't measure up. Professionally,  I feel cornered and confined. A lot. Because I never feel that it is okay to speak my mind. I am extremely cognizant of what I view as appropriate boundaries and I remain quiet. I am very much a product of my upbringing.  Authority is given, and if it is not given to you, you fall in line and hup to little missy.  In my defense, then, I don't believe it is always a lack of confidence, but an issue of finding a balance. Learning how to override the ingrained idea that I don't get to question authority or raise an eyebrow at the status quo.

I find it so difficult to deal with people today. Because they are the polar opposite of myself. They have zero issue questioning authority. They seem to have no idea how to show respect. They do not lack confidence to do whatever they want, whenever they want. And you know what? It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

I will take myself, then, and the struggle to believe.  I will continue to work out how to fit in, or not fit in, to a society that is unlike me.  Because I am different.  And I think I will choose to be okay with what that means.  Maybe if we were all as hard on ourselves as I am, the world might be a better place. We'd look more to perfecting our own behaviors and trying harder to make a difference, then worrying about why so-n-so isn't doing right.

I hate when people say I don't believe in myself enough. I hate it. It's probably true. From an outward perspective.

But inside, in my heart, I have a lot I want to say. I have a lot of belief waiting to come out.

You just have to be willing to draw it out. You just have to be patient to hear.

I don't think you will be sorry you waited, because I have a lot of good contributions to make.

You will regret when I decide to take my leave of you.

How is that for confidence?

Just A Moment To Be

February is beginning to wind its way down.  I'm sure there will be one or two more blizzards on the way, but spring beckons cautiously around the corner.  Do you know that spring is one of my least favorite seasons?  Spring cannot make up its mind.  I cannot handle wishy-washy-ness.  Feel what you feel.  Say what you feel.  Have a decision about yourself.  Spring just doesn't know.  It's mild, then cold, then warm, then mild, then cold, then cold, then hot, then mild, then warm.  Spring is for the patient, slow-roll souls. Angela is decidedly not in this category.  She does not have a slow-roll in her body.  She thinks she is trying hard to learn a patient lesson, but she is not, she really is not.  Everything is go time. 

The idea of spring reminds me of movie that I watched when I was young.


Not having a television as a child made the experience of watching movies a phenomenon.  It was a major event, generally reserved for holidays, to go to the local library and sign out the 16mm projecter and cart out 3 or 4 large circular cases of film strip.  Each chair, every couch, kids with piles of blankets, all faced the wall above the basement stairs in expectation.



Lots of viewing time to be had here.

Getting to thread this piece of machinery was a big deal.

Charlotte's Web is what I remember most.  I have snippets of other movies in memory.  But Charlotte's Web was my favorite.  And I am not a fan of the arachnid. And I was not a fan of how blatantly they put in the film about the purpose of the web and how she eats. I might still actually throw up in my mouth a little.  I digress.

There is a song in the original movie that talks about the seasons, how they change and repeat, the value in time, and how blessed we are to be a part of life for just a moment.  This is an important lesson.  We are blessed with life and it truly is for just a moment, a small space, in the big plan of the world that God has in place.  Charlotte understood how important it was to make a contribution in her small space in "life's eternal rhyme."  I hate to spoil it for you - but my good friend, Charlotte, doesn't make it in the end.  I was sorrowful every single time she didn't make it home from the fair.  I wanted to will her to live.  She was so important to one little lonely pig.  I wanted him to continue to have her for a friend.  Even at a tender young age, I knew the value of having someone to love, to trust, to listen, support, and enjoy life with you.  You don't need a lot of someones, but you do need one. 

Charlotte's Web celebrates friendship.  The joy of giving of one's self and time for the benefit of another.

Says Charlotte:

“You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die. A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that.”   

It reminds me to be grateful: for the time I am given, for those who pour love into my life, and for the knowledge that the ability to write is a gift.  A gift that can be used to enrich and encourage others.

My favorite quote:

“Wilbur never forgot Charlotte. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.”  

I can think of no better benediction.

The Warmth of the Sun

It's midweek.  It's mid-Frebruary.  It's somewhat a holiday as celebrated by some adults and almost all American public school elementary (that's el-e-men-try for those who might struggle with the midwestern, read: correct, pronunciation) students.

It's Valentine's day.

I think I celebrated it when I finally had my first boyfriend at the age of 22. 

I think I have celebrated it a few times since. But. It's not so much on my expectation radar.

I did receive a lovely gift last night which was gift enough.  My husband chose to turn on one of my favorite movies for me.  Erin Brockovich.  It's one of Julia Roberts best films; not too chick flick for the menfolk. I didn't have to watch YouTube tutorials. No "full bridge rectifier" for the win sequences. I can't with YouTube.  I almost wish it did not exist for any purpose. 

I did give up three extra Z's this morning in order to make eggs and sausage for the family on a weekday.  As it turned out, both kids were having breakfast at school.  I'm glad I vetoed the heart shaped pancakes.  Some eggs were left to harden on plates, but most of it was consumed and appreciated.  I personally had a Quaker chocolate chip granola bar as I rushed out the door.  (You know how small those are.  Like three, okay, five bites.)  I kinda wish I actually had made the heart shaped cakes of love.

On this day when romantic and platonic love can be celebrated, I wanted to broach an important topic.  All the jokes have been said.  All the funny parts of the day are put aside. 

What do you know about forgiveness?

What I know about forgiveness is that most people prefer not.

Because usually the offense is so large that the way does not seem clear.

Because usually we prefer to hold on to that offense.

Because the perpetrator deserves it.

I recently made a post that received the most "hits" of any that I have written.  Most likely, it's because humans love a good dose of gossip to feast on.  It's so wonderful getting all the juicy tidbits of the pain, suffering, and troubles of others.  Most cannot help themselves but to click on the baiting links of this site and that site, promising you will find out just what so-n-so did or didn't do here or there. We have to know what caused you pain.  We then have to share with others what caused you pain.  The post that I refer to is: We Hide Pain.  In this post, I shared my story of being investigated by Child Protective Services. 

Posting that was so incredibly difficult for me.  As authentic as I try to be while I journey with you, not all stories are up for grabs, not all stories should be revealed.  Jesus says in Matthew, "Do not cast your pearls before swine," speaking of discernment; perhaps, I may take it a bit out of context to relate on this personal level, but the message is the same.  Discernment.  Learn what it is. It's such an important tool.  I made the decision to post it feeling the time was right.  The time for letting the pain of that go, was here.  Maybe you will re-read that post.  Maybe you will understand a tiny taste of the emotion it conveys. 

Forgiveness.  It is so admittedly difficult for me.  I hold tight to that emotion like a lifeline and I don't want to let it go.  If I feel wronged, it will take some time to sort it.

I'll here mention that I know who turned my family in to Child Protective Services.  My anger toward those individuals has burned white hot.  For years.  I have choked on my tears and my rage.  Friends, can I here mention: don't ever do that.  Do not ever do that.  I don't care how much you think you know about a situation or what you think you have observed.  Those children have not been entrusted to your care and you are arrogant to assume you know better.  Consider long and hard that you might approach the parents first and then proceed accordingly.

I know who they are.  And I have loathed them.  I'll let you imagine the depth of that on your own.  To harm me is one thing, to harm my defenseless children is entirely another.

I have had numerous occassions to interact with one individual in recent months.  Guess what? This person is human.  Arrogant, but human.  I can see that. I can see that they are afraid of me.  I can see the suprise when I look them in the eye and bid them, "Good morning."  I can see that they are uncomfortable to be in my presence.  I can smell the uncertainty.  I hold the power and it should give me all kinds of gratification.  I should be as hurtful as I can all day long.  I should seek revenge as much as it is within my power.  Right now?  I could do that.  I could cause some waves for this person, and make their life very uncomfortable.

Instead.

I see humanity.  I see that this is a person, like myself, walking a journey.  I feel sympathy regarding their fear of me.  I have prayed long and hard for the ability to forgive, because I know like every good scholar that I cannot expect forgiveness of my own sins if I do not forgive the sins of others. 

I am overwhelmed.  Absolutely, tearfully, wonderfully overwhelmed by the realization that my prayers have been answered.  I can sit next to you.   I can help you brush the snow off your car.  I can say, "hello" and "good morning."  My character has increased a little. I can let that go.  Knowing how much anger I can hold in this little body, I am flabbergasted. And grateful.  And that is not on my own, friends, the power to forgive like that is not my own. 

And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you.  Romans 8:11

I know it will not be easy to understand me if you do not share my faith.  But it would be a great injustice to be silent on this matter.  God works in our lives, friends, he is living and moving and establishing our paths. 

Consider forgiveness on this day of celebrating love.  You will feel better.  You WILL feel better when you relinquish the emotion that you cling to like a lifeline.

I am praying for you, readers, that you can do just that.  That we can all do just that.  One step at a time.  It's so important for our journey.  It will bring the warmth of the sun to shine on our path.  And we will feel blessed by it.



*I'm betting this will have a lot less "hits." :)

What's in your bucket?

There is a pending snowstorm, set to arrive tomorrow.

My kids would like to have a snow day. 

I'd be good with a snow day.

A day free of obligation, frustrations, noise.

A day full of hot baths, hot beverages, scarfs.

It's more likely to happen for them, than me.  But it does have me dreaming.  I've decided to share my bucket list. A bucket full of dreams or ideas that I will dust off one day.  These are generally not in a specific order.

1) Buy and consume a hot dog (with lots of mustard) and a warm pretzel  from a street vendor in a major city.  

2) Go to Tokyo to visit Sayaka. (I will bring you Tokyo Banana, my good friend.)

3) Write a book of short stories.

4) Visit Austin for real BBQ.

5) Watch a storm across the ocean.

6) Ride a horse. (Its been awhile, Arizona. I don't know if I got it in me, old girl.) 

7) Participate in a drama. As an actor. I've got so much scope for it. Emotion is my life. 

8) Hold and love a baby that is not my own. 

9) Watch my children graduate high school. Pomp and Circumstance NEVER gets old.

10)  Slow dance with a loved one.  Like a princess. All that would be missing is the silver forest. Or maybe we'll have that. 

11) Sing a song well. I want to sing so badly.

12)  Eat an entire bowl (single batch) of chocolate chip cookie dough. (And maybe with a little help from a friend who does not care about salmonella.) My Grandma punished me one time by making me eat and eat and eat the dough because I kept sneaking it.  PS - it's really hard because eventually you get sick of it. I'd like to see if that's still true.

13) Play the Cello. Like a boss. For it is the most romantic and moving of all the instruments. (Maybe Aaron will teach me.)

14) Live in Tennessee.

15) Um. This one is just tossed in here all random like but if I could have a legitimate real life replay of the "Kiss the girl" scene in The Little Mermaid...  If you need anything to make that happen, short of making me mute, just let me know.  Now's your moment....floating in a blue lagoon....  You get it. I don't need to sing it. 

16) I want to live somewhere long enough to grow a semi respectable tree from sorta scratch.  

17) Work in a bakery. When I'm old. I'd make an excellent Mrs. Claus.

18) Visit Gettysburg.

19) Meet Megan Follows. Her portrayal of Anne Shirley influenced me greatly. 

20) Memorize a song to play on the piano.

21) Read 20 nonfiction books. (A tall order)

22) Write a personal letter to someone every day for one year.

23) Ride first class on an international flight.

24) Grow a vegetable garden - I've not always had the best luck.

25) Sleep on the beach. 

26) Refer to the greatest show - I want to fly on a trapeze and ride an elephant.

27) Laugh so hard that tears fall. As many times as I possibly can.

Winter days are for dreaming, more than any other season. White, fluffy snowflakes falling are new dreams coming to rest on your cheeks and melt into your heart. Dreams nesting in the heart are the most likely to come to fruition. 

On a quiet winter night, when time stands waiting, dreams are best remembered.  For time is precious. Its moments drop all around us. It is fleeting and we do best to embrace what we are given. 

Tomorrow in the snow. At your desk. In your car.  Look out the window. Every snowflake is a dream.  Piling up. Waiting for you. 

Take chances. I'm going to. I'm on Craiglist buying a rowboat...   

You have an assignment. Share one bucket item with someone you care about. Today.  Just one.  It will spark conversation. It might just jumpstart your life. Can't find a friend, I'm always here walking this journey with you....drop me a line.