public musings of a mama

my road, then and now

(wildflower, late summer)

I was casually chatting with a friend at SAW when the subject of the anticipated afterglow posts came up.  I can remember reading through most of them last year and feeling truly happy for those that came away from the experience inspired.  The writings I poured over seemed to reflect a new spark, a new energy in the lives of many.  That feeling was contagious and I vowed to make SAW my own destination vacation for the next year.  I don't consider myself an envious person, I rarely feel jealous.  I believe this to be my truth because I am blessed to be living a very FULL life (seriously, my cup is spilling with good) and also because I'm focused on my path alone.

This took years of work on my part and with the help of my husband (who has a beautiful view of the world) I was able to stop wasting a lot of my energy pining over what I didn't have.

(Short Back Story)  Fifteen years ago, Z and I were living in a one bedroom basement apartment of a house my dad owned.  We were struggling to stay ahead financially.  Many of my girlfriends had just gotten married and were signing mortgage contracts on their new houses.  My dream of owning a house was nowhere near coming true and internally, I was an envious, jealous mess.  I hid my feelings from Z because I was angry with him for not making it happen for us.

But it's a funny thing how feelings manifest themselves over time.  I remember one night, he and I were having a huge fight and I was a little drunk on wine, and it all came spilling out... all of it.  How it was his fault we were stuck and how all of our friends had fabulous, new  houses and we didn't.  (I cringe even writing this. Ugh.)

My husband is a great, great man.  He came to this country when he was 23 years old.  By the time I met him he had learned to speak English, he worked his way up to a good job,  and created a nice life for himself in a country that was foreign to him.  He's smart too.  With my feeble attempt to blame everything on him, he laid the truth down on me (except he waited until the next day when I sobered up).  I was feeling a bad mix of horrible for the things I said and worse for the things I had felt.

I loved my friends and deep down past the jealousy, I was happy for them.  

So began my journey of letting go of many pent up negative feelings.  My husband did a lot of talking that next day, I did a lot of crying.  The lesson I took from that time in my life was:  Instead of missing what you don't have, nurture that what you do have.  I've spent years holding onto that lesson, weaving its message deep within my core values.  I am truly a different person today. (End Back Story)

So when I go through my facebook or my blog reader and find out that a friend is doing well, buying or renovating a house, taking a fabulous and well deserved vacation, having more kids, starting a kick-ass business, or making a ton of money ~ I feel nothing but happiness and good feelings for them.  I call or email to wish them luck and success on their journey and I mean every word of it from the bottom of my heart.  Nothing makes me happier than to see my family and friends growing, leaping, and succeeding.

This is not the norm, I know.  We're human, we feel differently and process things differently.  I've read many blog posts where the issues of envy and jealousy come up.  I don't frown on anyone for feeling one way or the other ~ in fact, I can relate because I've walked both roads.  There is nothing fun about being stuck in that negative space.  Maybe you need to hear that you can turn it around?  Begin with bringing the focus back to you and your path.  Maybe my lesson learned will offer you a glimpse of a new beginning?  I don't know.  I just know that I needed to let this story go today.  peace.

sea of tranquility

There sits a stack of journals tucked neatly within the confines of my bedside table cabinet that I've collected over the years.  Together, the journals and I got off to a great start.  I'd sit with my pen and begin to tell the pages my story.  With each journal, I'd get about ten pages deep before an unyielding block set in, a place where the words stopped flowing and the emotions became stifled.  I have never been able to write my story.  Not in my books, not on my blog, not even as a secret told to a friend.  I don't even think I've processed the complete story within myself as it is a very old tale and an ongoing theme in the outer ripples of my family circle.

Thinking about it further, I'm not even sure that a story has to be written.  One huge lesson I took away from my time at Squam is that a story can unravel itself through any creative medium.  It can be painted, collaged, built with sticks and stones.  You can sing your story, put your story into poetry, or you can wear your story like a heart on a sleeve.  The tale is best shared with a close watch of your comfort leves (which may go off the charts in some instances, but don't be afraid).  That story must come out of you so that you can grow, so that you don't feel alone with it, so that it doesn't hold you back from opening new doors, or you know, from living a full life.

With the help and guidance of a gentle soul, I've begun the process of spilling my story - pen to page.  Knowing now that my mother is dual diagnosed as MICA (medically ill / chemically addicted/abusing) has shed a new light on the why's of my tale.  The simple layout of this journal (it's peppered with enticing questions that lure the words right from you) has cleansed away the blockages and loosened my inner voice.  I do have a story to tell, one that is so much a part of who I am.  And now that there are a couple of years of distance between my mother and I, the emotions are unleashed and ready for release.  The waters are tranquil and I want to swim.

my wish for her

I'll let you in on a little secret wish of mine:

For years, I have been wishing for a simple and loving relationship between my mother and I.  One that would find us with our arms intertwined as we walk through quaint towns, window shopping.  Maybe we'd stop at a cafe for a frothy mug of cappuccino and indulge in girl talk.  She would inquire about  the current happenings within my family, how are we doing and what's Angie up to at school / sports.  She would offer to watch my girl so that Z and I could squeeze in a date night, and no worries, sweetheart, the baby will be perfectly fine to sleep over in my spare room(s).  She could possibly pop in for a visit on a boring Sunday with a grocery bag of ingredients so that we could finally make that cake together.  I would come home from a busy day at the office and listen to her voice on the machine telling me that she's making her pasta and sauce this weekend, so bring the family over for dinner!  We'd have our chit chats over coffee and visit flea markets in the fall.  Thanksgiving and Christmas would be huge gatherings around the table, three generations deep.  I wish.  I wish.  I wish.

What I wish for her today is clarity and peace on her path.

sunday ~ in this moment

In this moment, I am:

~ sitting in a room full of art supplies, packing them gently into the suitcase for my trip.

~ sitting with my brother and my daughter, sharing a pizza and potty humor.  belly-aching laughter fills the room.

~ sitting on the chair that carried the sound of tears into my bedroom.

~ sitting, breathing it all out, allowing a fresh circle of air in.

solid bottom

While working on my blog banner over the weekend, I had a chance to go through my computer files and take a look at some of the older projects I had been working on.  Browsing through pictures and letters, I felt a calm wash over me, a very instinctive feeling of contentment.  You see, I had a couple of ideas I had put on the back burner until I could find the time to tend to them.  Good ideas, too.  But then I had to go back to work and a huge portion of my time had suddenly evaporated.. poof.. gone.  This didn't sit well with me, this whole lack of time thing.  I had trouble keeping a good schedule for my family, had trouble keeping in touch with friends, and trouble doing the things I love (me time) that kept my creative juices flowing. 

It's taken a while but I've learned how to keep a (somewhat) steady balance of all of these parts that make up my life.  The difficult bit was choosing where to trim the excess, which turned out to be these lovely little projects I have sitting in folders on my computer.  This caused me a lot of inner panic and unrest but I let it go knowing that the right time to get back would present itself someday.

This is the beauty of trust, of time, of wisdom, of realizing, of letting go.  I don't know when the time will be right, but it will feel right.  I wondered if I was selling myself short but I feel the complete opposite:  I feel more empowered letting things be and waiting to see how it all settles.  There is much more exploring and learning for me to indulge in, without time constraints.  I know I have a stable foundation of ideas to work from.  Sometimes you see things clearer the second time around.

~not forgotten~

Some days breeze by so quickly it makes me wonder... where does all that time go?  Is there a pocket of air within the universe that holds all of our memories, the ones we forget?

Many of you know that my sister is my best friend.  With an absent mother figure from the age of eighteen, we've had only each other to depend on as we made our way through womanhood.  When something happens, good or bad, we are on the phone or (thank you technology) texting about it.  I consider her three beautiful girls as my own... as she does with mine.

So today is one of those special days that we celebrate as sisters.  It's her first girl's fourteenth birthday.  I remember Z and I standing in the hospital waiting to meet our niece, our family's first little grand-daughter, the first baby I would ever hold so dear to my heart.  She's known as the first angel and she tests that title sometimes with her teenage antics.  The girl is all heart and mush deep down, she doesn't fool me for a second.

Happy Birthday Lala, little faerie goddess.  Beki loves you more than you know.  And no, the picture will not come down :)  The memories you've given me stay deep in my heart ~ I won't let them go to the place where the forgotten ones go.

~ excerpts from when ~

selected excerpts from my journals 1995-2009:

"i feel like i know what i want, but i don't know how to get from here to there. the in-between scares me" ~2006

"love, falling in and out of it" ~2000

"i'm tired and i'm big ~ sometimes, i'm achey" ~2007

"i'm still in love with life" ~2006

"i love you so deeply and so differently from the others" ~2006

"tonight i'm packing and leaving" ~1995

"i thought i knew all the answers" ~2000

"looked at the hidden picture today then slipped it back into the secret spot. must try to forget." ~2008

g.i.s.t. 2

Relief !!  The quiet I’ve been craving has (finally!) enveloped me entirely.  The first part of our renovation project is finished and the birthday madness has passed.  Breathe in, breathe out.

With an optimistic approach and a calendar of free days ahead, I plan on exploring spring and the beauty it brings with its awakening using both my digital and film cameras.  As I worked on my house project I noticed a theme in the décor.  I don’t know why, but I have mad love for leaves.  There is at least one object in each room that has an embedded leaf hidden within a pattern.  It’s funny how that little theme shows up because it was not at all intentional.

Using this theme as a starting point ultimately led to the rest of the ingredients for my creative recipe:  film, photos, color, flowers, writing.  At some point I thought, “hmmm… I’ve got a sweet creative opportunity here”.  That’s how the idea for my little project began.  I don’t know how it will unfold but ultimately I’d like to document it in book form.  Just don’t ask me how I will do this, m’kay?

It’s sunny and 60 degrees today.  Having time to myself is a gift – one that I choose to give to myself and one that I graciously accept.  I wish you a good weekend and leave you with a G.I.S.T. list:

 

~ Brass Free Brunettes hair dye.  I’ve went from orange tinted brown hair to chocolate brown hair in 20 minutes flat.  Thank you Clairol.

~ Coffee.  It gets me through everything.

~ Sharing a last conversation I had with a sweet guy I knew who passed with his sister whose heart has yet to mend.

~ Cake. Lot’s of cake.  In particular, homemade chocolate bundt.

~ Books that take me away from my world, even if it’s just for a little while.

lost and found

I spent yesterday sorting through and clearing out the clutter that had amassed during the winter.  Don't even fear that I'm deluding myself here, I know spring has yet to arrive.  I just wish that some of you could have seen the volume... the magnitude of crap that had settled all to comfortably into the corners of my home.  Six hours and three playlists later, I was a tired but happy girl.  I managed to cook a banging pot of soup too.  I filled the pot with all kinds of fresh veggies and chicken, put it on a low boil, and left it for a couple of hours.  Mmmm...Mmmm...M..M.M. GOOD.

I managed to find a lot of stuff that had went *missing*.  First, I kid you not, I found about 100 pens. The pens now have their designated drawer.  I found missing cd's, books, money (lot's of coins - they add up), scented tarts (that I had been searching for!) all the parts to my steam machine, self adhesive heating pads for menstrual cramps (thank you to whoever invented those!) and my old morning journal. 

Finding that journal was just what I needed because last week was particularly bad for me emotionally.  My hormones were out of whack, yes, but I also experienced something that threw me for a loop on Thursday.  I found out that my family and I are probably no longer covered or kicked off of our health insurance plan.  I'll find out for sure next week, but in the meantime fear has set in.  I started searching online for plans just in case, and holy shit... hyperventilation set in.  It is motherfucking ridiculously expensive for a family of three to buy health insurance.  The premiums for the most basic plan - one that has a high deductible - costs about the same as a mortgage payment.  Are you kidding me?  I can't afford it.  Z and I are tight with money right now, a lot of people are.  I'm not complaining because we're healthy, we make enough to cover all of our bills and expenses with a little left over.  That *little left over* is nowhere near enough to get health insurance.  Please... I'd own a summer beach house if that were the case. (one in Jersey, one in Montenegro).

So, I find my journal and flip through the pages to find a poem I wrote one morning back in 2006.  It's corny and silly, but it lifted me out of that fear that I had allowed to fester.  It's not an answer for my issues, it's the words and the optimism behind the words that has allowed me to feel that things will work out... somehow.

secrets that be

let them go free.

hand them to the angels

there they are safe.

look at the sky

the clouds floating by

your new life awaits

just open the gates

to a new day.

the sunshine will

always pour in

and the angels will

always be your guide.

go forth with no fear

open your eyes.

you are alive.

you are here.

wipe away that tear

bask in the love

that has always been near.

It's kind of kindergarten-ish and rhymey, and who know's what I was thinking in 2006 when I decided to write these words.  All I know is that they make sense to me now.

thoughts, the day after

A big, post holiday H~E~L~L~0 !!  I've been away from here, enjoying long days with my family.  Wrapping gifts, watching DVD's, eating a hell of a lot of food.  I love the holidays and the hustle that comes along with them.  My favorite part is the quiet when all is said and done.

(Hershey Peanut Butter Kiss Cookies)

I'm finding that my attitude needs readjusting.  I do this thing.. where I become such a vicious bitch to the one person I love the most, for reasons only I can understand.  I don't ask for help, no.. I just expect people to ask if I need it.. and when they don't I have the perfect reason to turn up my bitch-o-meter and spew anger like you don't even know.  I hate that I do this.  Wouldn't it just be easier to ask for help and save myself and those around me from those stressed and negative vibes?  A lot of it is brought on when I'm stressing, but it's still no excuse.  It's a huge character default on my end, and I totally recognize it.  And I'm working on it.

 (Making dinner rolls)

Taking notice of the good and the not so good about myself is not easy.  There are parts of me that I think are good and solid, parts that need room to grow, parts that are downright immature and need working on.  Isn't that the case with all of us though?  Don't we all need a minute to stop and re-assess, to begin taking steps to better what needs working on? 

(Final product, recipe from Pioneerwoman) 

I've had the opportunity to apologize for my nasty behavior ~ and really ~ I was nasty.  I wouldn't even hang out with me in a stressful moment.. I'd run as fast as I could.  Thankfully, I'm married to a guy who can predict my behaviors pretty much on instinct... or if that doesn't work he just needs to see what I look like in the morning with my coffee.  That's what he tells me.

Why was I sharing all of this?  Yeah, because I've got some things I'm working on now that it's about to be January 1st again.  Resolution time.  I know that life is like a work in progress, but I do like to be a cheeseball between Christmas and New Year's.  I like to make lists and work from those lists through the year.  Somethings I carry though, somethings are forgotten about a week later.  But this thing.. this attitude thing, needs attention... like, immediately.

Have you elf'ed yourselfyet?  OMG.. if you have a few minutes, do it.  Peace out, for now.