Friends

I have periodically culled my Facebook friends list, and I'm not alone...I see people culling their lists all of the time. But I have an "issue" with my current Facebook friends list that I find both challenging and intriguing.

Facebook is such an interesting reality. It brings to the surface every single invisible aspect of human relationships...every single one. Except in Facebook, we are more aware and in control of these usually invisible social cues.

In real life relationships we don't ask people if they want to be friends, and we certainly don't maintain a list of our friends...lol. But Facebook (as a reality portal) does give us a lot of power in establishing and maintainong boudaries with our friends.

Every single person has their own way of organizing their friends list.

As for me, I have three tiers of boundaries...close friends...friends..
and public friends. The people who are designated as public friends are "restricted" so that they can only view what I've posted for public viewing. It's the same information that anyone (friend or not) can view.

So I've recently culled people who (for whatever reason on their part) asked to join my lost of friends, but never post, and never respond to anything that I post. But I have a small group of FBpeeps that I've been having to process what to do with them.

However, to simply delete some FB people (by the nature of relationship in the "real" world) creates a "political" issue for me. What I mean by that is simply there could be social consequences to delete them, even though I may want to.

I love the way the overt nature of managing FB friends list mirrors the struggle that I have managing my friendships in the real world!

What I find intriguing about this personal dilemma is that I don't know why it's even an issue. These "friends" are already restricted to what I post for public viewing, so deleting them will not change what information they could view about me and my personal life. And I could "unfollow" them if I wanted to, so I wouldn't even need to see what they post. Yet I struggle with what to do with the small population of my FB friends who have requested to be my friend, but do not ever "like" or respond to what I post, even though I regularly "like" and comment on what they post.

I don't know what to do with this collection of the one-sided friendships!

The question that I grapple with is this: If I am interested enough in these people to respond to their life, what does it matter to me if they do not "like" or respond to me? Honestly, why would I delete someone that I actually like, simply because they do not like me? lol...FB is crazy for what it brings to the surface of the relationship table!

I remember one person in particular back in grad school who just did NOT likr me...but I adored him (non-romantically adored him). I would see him and be filled with joy, so I would say hello, and he would just grunt or say nothing. And I made a conscious choice to let him feel whatever he felt about me, but also to not let that influence the way that I genuinely felt about him. Eventually we came to be friends...which is not really the point, because my warmth toward him had nothing at all to do with a hopeful outcome, but had everything to do with me being true to what was real for me.

So I am struggling with cull decisions for people who don't like me....lol...but for whatever reason also don't unfriend me. It's my own choices that I have to grapple with, of course, and not someone else's.

I don't know yet what I'm going to do, but for now I will continue to let my dilemma shed light on my personal process. But before I allow myself to delete these friends I need to justify to myself why would I unfriend someone that I actually like, just because they don't like me.

Good Enough

It's pushing 9:30 in the morning, and I've barely just begun to get motivated today. I "should" already be over at the storage unit working hard to get as much done as possible to get on the road as quickly as possible...but it's pushing 9:30 in the morning, and I've barely begun to get motivated today.

What's wrong with me that I can't get more done each day?

The truth is, there's nothing "wrong" with me at all. I average about 3 hours of sleep, and the sleep I do get is more often than not a restless fitful sleep that never lets me feel rested. I'm having a hard time getting motivated because I am absolutely exhausted by a lifetime of forcing myself to "push through" the exhaustion and "trudge on" like a good soldier should.

What does a battle fatigued soldier do to get some well deserved rest?!

Well, a battle fatigued soldier quits her job, doesn't take classes she has no energy or desire to take, buys a trailer to create her ideal travelling home, and downsizes her life to a functional manageability so that she can rest as she needs to each and every day.

THAT's what a battle fatigued soldier does.

There probably is more that I "could" get done each day, but not without a cost. I ended up spending a frightening week in the hospital last Thanksgiving with a very serious life-threatening situation precisely because I had been pushing myself too hard for too long...and it nearly killed me.

So, no...I'm not going to force myself to push through this exhaustion...and I will get to the trailer work as soon as I can reasonably get motivated and moving around today.

My life is here...my life is now.

Yup! This is my life. So, I no longer put my needs on hold in order to chase these "after I" carrots that do nothing to help me further my goals, but always leave me feeling drained and depressed.

So, today I can be kind and gentle with my myself by understanding that I am doing the absolute very best that I can do today...given how exhausted I feel. And I will get done what I can reasonably get done today, but I'm not going to sacrifice my needs just to cross a few more things off of my list.

This list of things that need to be done before I leave WILL all get done...but I will also enjoy the process of the journey along the way...even if it means that it takes me a few extra days to do so.

This, right here....this morning after an exhausting sleepless night....this is my life, too...so what I get done today is good enough for me...

Fear Mongering

I have a friend who is in the early stages of her personal liberation from an oppressive environment, and she's (rightfully) feeling scared. And our dialogue this morning helped me to understand that there are essentially two different types of feeling scared: (Genuine) Fear and Fear Mongering.

How to tell the difference is simple.

When we are speaking in statements of facts (e.g., I do not have enough money to pay my bills, my tires are nearly bald, I have a pain in my stomach that won't go away), we are speaking the truth of what is. And they are situations that can make a person (rightfully) feel scared. But these facts can also be addressed directly with a tangible solution.

Genuine Fear is our hardwired safety protective mechanism that helps to keep us as safe as possible from threats that are real.

But when we are speaking in sentences that start off with, "What if...?," these signify fear mongering, because they're not based on fact, they are based on hypothetical possibilities. And these have no solutions, no way to resolve what makes us feel scared, and so the fear just keeps mulling around,  generating even MORE fear. 

Fear Mongering are the thoughts that make us feel crazy and stop us from doing what we want to do.

This is important for me to remember as I venture off into this life of travel and adventure, because there will be a great deal of "risk management" involved each and every day

For me, the big fear trigger du jour is the trailer brakes issue. When I line up all of the facts, one picture emerges. But the very long list of "what if?" possibilities of what could happen, well, this list will only serve to drive me crazy to think about, and make me so afraid of what might happen that I won't ever leave my front door!

The bottom line is that I am not ever going to be able to predict every possible scenario and plan the safest preventive measure. And I can't let all of this internal fear mongering make my choices for me, either. I will simply do the best with what I have available to me at the time, and move forward in spite of the risks involved, because no matter what I do, life offers no guarantees.

The Share Button

I've spent a few days processing the subtle intricacies of Facebook privacy (through my Bitstrips processing, of course!), and I have finally settled on the unwitting culprit: it's the "share" button.

The "share" button is the underlying source of the problem with privacy in Facebook.

The button is right there. And, with a click of the button our information is off and running through the virtual world gone viral. But the button itself isn't the real problem, because share buttons don't share information, people do...lol.

The problem isn't the button itself...the problem is what the share button represents.

If I were having a face to face conversation over tea in someone's home, there wouldn't be a free-floating "share" button looming beneath our words (or the family pictures hanging upon the walls). No, there wouldn't. And, we would not ever share this information without someone's permission.

The problem is that the share button in Facebook gives permission to share what people say and the pics they post without having to ask for their permission. It's an implied permission to share...something that we would never do in real life, yet there it is...the one click permission for guilt-free sharing of other people's information...lol.

It's Facebok...it's what Facebook is...it's what Facebook does.

And, I don't have a problem with what Facebook is OR does, in and of itself. I post information about my life precisely so that friends and family CAN share what I post...lol. But does this implied permission to share extend beyond Facebook? That has been my scruff, of course...that someone published 4 of my pics in a non-Facebook newsletter without even asking me if it were ok. I would have said yes, but that honestly is not the point.

The share button has caused me to reflect deep and hard about how the world has become "trained" by social media that it is somehow alright to share other people's personal information without their permission. And, I don't like what it's doing to human relationships. I also don't like how desensitized I, myself, have become to the use of this great and powerful share button of Oz.

As for me, I will keep my eye on this pervasive free floating share button in the conversations that I have (both in e- and real-world contexts). And, I will be much more cautious about what I post, and who I grant access to view what I post, because I am not in control of how other people use this share button with MY personal information.

Internal GPS

Today I found an old key chain with a floating compass on it. I thought it would be cool to have the compass on my current key chain...but, upon further inspection decided that a compass with no sense of bearings would NOT be a good symbol of my new life direction...lol.

The compass didn't work!

That's the trouble with relying on information outside of us...and, if I followed the direction on THIS compass, I would most certainly never get where I'm headed, and probably end up just walking in circles. Sometimes we need some external help, but we also need to rely on our internal GPS.

This compass went bye-bye today...lol.

I think the hardest thing to do in life is to learn to trust our own internal guidance system. I live in a world where experts on every corner are trying to make a living by telling the world how everyone is supposed to live their lives. Entire industries are built on this model, and the basic premise is to undermine individual empowerment and critical thinking skills.

Where would the beauty industry be if everyone simply accepted themselves as they are, flaws and all?

Road maps created by those who have travelled before us from what they've learned from the experience is wonderful...but we still need to stake out own choices about which roads we take (or not), as well as how we travel the journey.

My mind is flooded right now with a whirlwind of internal voices causing uncertainty and hesitance...so, I am having to sort and downsize this part of my life, as well. And, learning how to trust my internal GPS is the hardest part of all...but it's the only compass that will get me to where I need to be...

Cross Roads

It's nearly 1 in the afternoon, and I feel immobilized. I have downsized my life into the 10x10 storage unit...I have built all of the major structural pieces for the inside of the trailer...I have envisioned a completely different way of doing my life....but now I am at a point where my life experience no longer informs my choices, and I feel paralyzed.

I don't have enough information to reasonably predict the outcome, so I am afraid to take the next step.

The next step involves the securing of the structure, and I just don't know...I am well beyond my knowledge and experience here, because I'm dealing with forces that are just not relevant in a static box. This box will vibrate, twist, and jolt in ways that make standard ways of  securing obsolete...so, I feel paralyzed....and I'm not accustomed to not knowing.

What if I fuck this up? I have invested a large chunk of my tiny bit of capital to buy this new home, so I can't just start over if I shred the plywood. Yes, that would be the worst expected outcome...that the bolts are yanked out...that the butterfly clamps are sheered off by the jolting forces...that the internal structure completely collapses into a pile of debris...and I no longer have a safe and sacred home.

Wow! That really is a worst case scenario!

If I just do what Patty suggests (and put everything into totes) then it's still functional, and I am essentially guaranteed success. To take the next step of MY plan is taking a huge risk...because totes I know...I don't know securing stuff to a box on wheels!

Yes, that's true...manifesting your vision IS the bigger risk. So, if the worst case scenario happens....and it could...then you will treat it like you would any other disaster (natural or choice-created). You will sift through the rubble...retrieve what remains viable...and recreate a new vision that incorporates what you learn from this....because there really is NO way to know how your vision will actually work out unless you try.

The only way to find out how this will turn out is to step into the unknown...to risk everything for the vision and the dream.

So, the question becomes, Do you want the safe, guaranteed option? Or, Do you want to risk everything for the manifestation of your dream home? And, can you live with hearing the words "I told you so!" if your choice to risk everything for your vision actually does end up in a pile of debris and shredded wood?

I don't know...I need to sit with all of this and process through. Just for today I can go to the storage and sort through what's left, and see if I can find the courage to take this next step...

Yes, you can...

Self Love

I live in a world where I'm not really allowed (at least not publicly) to love my self. To openly admit to the world that I am the most amazing and beautiful person I know would be viewed by "the world" as narcissism at its worst...lol.

Narcissitic, arrogant, cocky, blah, blah, blah...

But, the more I think about the statement, "I am the most amazing and beautiful person that I know," I realize that this statement is absolutely at the core of self-love!

How could it not be?

How can I NOT be the most amazing and beautiful person that I know? I'm really the ONLY person that I am capable of knowing directly...I may "know" other people, but it's really a "knowing about" them, rather than knowing them. The only person I can ever truly know is myself! So, of course I would be the most amazing and beautiful person that I know!

I AM the most amazing and beautiful person that I can ever truly know!

If I had a daughter today, I would raise her from day one to know, without doubt, that she is the most amazing and beautiful person she will ever know. And she would feel the depth of that truth with every waking breath (or, at least that would be my goal). And in those moments when she forgot, I would remind her of that truth until she didn't need to be reminded any more.

We need to remind each other how amazing and beautiful we are, because even if we know this truth, it's very easy to forget. And the people around us, well, they don't remember to remind us of that truth, either. So we end up walking around our world thinking other people are more amazing and beautiful than we are...and we start making decisions based on what these other "more amazing and beautiful" people think about us and what we should do with our lives (and feeling like crap about ourselves because of it).

But nobody knows me as well or as deeply and truly as I know myself...nobody. So, how the hell can anyone else make decisions about me or my life for me?

To love my self is to feel the deepest truth that I really am the most amazing and beautiful person that I know...the only person that I can ever truly know...and knowing this truth changes everything...

Separation Anxiety

I have continued to think about the doodle I drew yesterday. It was sort of interesting to me how these two tree structures had become enmeshed at the base and at some point alng their growth curve ..or were they enmeshed all along, and somehow they are separating? I'm not sure....it's just a doodle...lol.

But when I look at this doodle in terms of where I am in my life, this doodle is me. I AM separating from the part of me that is encased by a brick building. The growth may have continued up through the roof for that part of me, as a tree's growth has the power to move buildings off of their foundations...but that part cannot move (without cutting off the only growth that exists for that part)...and, so, if I don't separate myaelf, then I remain stuck, unable to move ir breathr freely.

But the tree on the left, she has new growth sprouting from her head...and, she is separating herself from the enmeshed part that keeps her bound up and locked in one place.

There is also "seepage" oozing out from the building, although I don't know what that is, yet...

So, I AM separating from myself...or, parts of me that no longer serve my life purpose. The tree part that remains can continue to grow, of course...but the brick building that encases that part remains strong and viable for now, so I don't know what to do with this separation anxiety that leaves a part of me still imprisoned and upset that I am separating from him. All I know is that if I remain attached and enmeshed to that part of me, I will die...

Process

This morning I realized that I've actually been working on this "sorting and purging" process since I started living on my boat...which was back in 2007? 8? Living on the boat sort of forced the issue, but it has continued slowly ever since...and the project is definitely kicked into high gear.

This process is actually a full-time job, and I am working on this project all day long...every single day. It may move more quickly or slowly, depending on which layer is getting sorted, but the process is what it is, and I couldn't do this any faster than it's getting done...and it IS getting done!

I feel lighter and more liberated each day, and I know that even my car and the tumbleweed trailer will be limiting in their own ways...but, they will absolutely afford me a kind of freedom that I have been dreaming about for years...a dream that I am literally living.

My life is here...my life is now.

I feel so grateful that I have this open-ended time to unpack the congestion. If I had to be working right now (even just one day a week), I would feel completely overwhelmed. But the way my life is structured, I can move at a pace that works, and process the emotional dust and debris that rises to the surface once the congestion is dislodged.

I don't know a single person who wouldn't enjoy stepping off of the merry-go-round (or roller coaster) of their life for some open-ended time for personal needs...so I truly feel blessed that I have the luxury of doing so, for however long I feel the need to do this.

I have earned this long overdue vacation..yes, I most certainly have, indeed!

The Reason

One of those chliché statements that used to really flip my switch was the one that responds to bad things that happen with, "There's a reason why this has happened." This used to be the most condescending of all clichés...that is, until I felt the truth of these words in my own life.

There IS a reason why everything happens!

When a person is killed by a drunk driver, the reason why that happened was because some person chose to drink themselves drunk, then chose to drive their vehicle while drunk. THAT's the reason why the person was killed. For every single event that happens-- good OR bad--there is a cause and effect reason to explain why something actually happened. Every single time...every single event...there IS a reason why something happens.

The cause and effect reason why something happens is objective, logical, and forensically fact-based.

But the cause and effect reason why something happened isn't what people mean when they say "Everything happens for a reason." They mean that there is some deeper purpose, a divine (God plan or Universe intervention) purpose that sheds light on the true reason, and explains the real reason why something happened. Hence, this cliché becomes the spiritual raison d'être to the cause and effect reason for why something happened.

This spiritual reason is completely subjective, belief-based, and open to an infinite number of interpretations, depending upon how each person makes sense of what has happened.

So there is a reason why something happened...an objective cause and effect reason based on facts...but also a subjective spiritual reason based on a person's beliefs that shapes and informs the way the objective facts are interpreted through an individual's meaning-making system.

I am remembering back to a very powerful experience, a night when I was unsuspectingly driving home from Claremont. And as I started up the overpass freeway interchange, there was an "accident" that had just happened. The cause and effect reason for the accident was a man (for whatever reason of his own) jumped onto an innocent random car. The woman driving that car didn't hit the man...he had jumped into her path to cause the collision...he was the reason why his body smashed into her car.

I drove up just after this had happened, so I stopped to help. And just as I was about to put a blanket onto the poor man lying on cold asphalt, the police arrived, so I was able to stay with the woman until the first responders had finished helping the man (so they could, then, attend to her).

The woman knew very clearly the objective fact that this man had jumped onto her car...but the subjective meaning that she chose to ascribe to the deeper reason as to why this had happened to her was that there was a reason why he had chosen her. In her experience, this wasn't a random act of chaos...there was a deeper, spiritual reason why this man had chosen her, and she wasn't going to move beyond this point until she could find the answer to why he had chosen her.

This wasn't the only conclusion to be drawn as explanation for why this had happened to her. But it was the conclusion that her personal meaning making system had chosen...and it was a choice.

So, there is a reason why something happened...an unchangeable reason that we can all agree upon...and there is also a reason that each person chooses for themselves, a reason that creates meaning for the mind, and changes over time as our perspective changes with new experiences that help us to understand from new and mysterious vantage points.

I love the unique ways that each person finds and creates along the way to make personal meaning for the good, the bad, and the ugly that happens to us...it is the Grace that allows us to heal and move past the tragic events that impose themselves onto our unsuspecting life stories...sometimes for random cause and effect reasons...and sometimes for intentions of a dark and twisted plot of another person's story...but always beautiful in the way we thread the pieces together.

A Good Sign!

I could have been sad...I could have been angry with the cat...I could have cried out, "Oh, no!" when I (and, most likely, the neighbor below) was awakened by a crash...two separate crashes, actually...when two boards fell down, knocking one of the symbolic pieces of my Past, Present, Future shrine into broken pieces strewn across the floor! But, instead of crying over the broken pieces, my heart smiled as it was filled with gratitude and appreciation for the 'good sign' that awaken me this morning!

All of my hard work has paid off!

The little statue used to be a multi-headed dragon that sat atop the 'Past' tower, symbollically representing the nasty dragons from past experiences with which I continue to do battle. But, this morning I was informed by the Universe that two of the dragon's heads have been decapitated, and one of its wings has been severed! The dragon beast may not have been killed, but it's been severely hampered with how much trouble it can cause me!

The dragon has lost TWO heads, and can no longer fly!

And, even though the dreaded Dragon of Experience Past still has three nasty heads remaining, this a such a great sign, indeed! So, now...as this disempowered beast sits atop its perch licking its wounds and plotting its next attack, I will only be spurred on by the severed heads and wing like an outnumbered Spartan Warrior crying out, "MOLON LABE!!!" to the oppressive forces seeking to oppress and destroy me!

So, Dragon Past, take heed! Lick your wounds for as long as you need, and look deep and hard at what you have lost this day, for these will not the last heads that you will lose if you continue with your futile attack against my unrelenting spirit!

Molon Labe, indeed!

Gratitudes & Appreciations

February 6, 2014: I feel grateful to be alive. I am grateful for my metronome, and these wonderful piping books that I have. And I'm grateful for how Denise is getting me up onto the bagpipes. And I'm grateful for the VITA people, too...it was great to get taxes completed last night.

February 4, 2014: I am grateful that all of the psychic hard work I've been doing has paid off! I am grateful that the Dragon of Experience Past has lost two heads and a wing! I am grateful to have awakened into a brand new day!

February 3, 2014: I am grateful to have lived through another day...it could have been a whole lot worse! I am grateful that I have the ability to buy this trailer, and create this amazing tumbleweed abode! I am grateful that I was able to sort & purge through mom's stuff with grace. I am grateful that I was able to eat, and Sarra, too! I am grateful for the wonderful depth with which I process my world. I am grateful that the girl is applying for my apartment! I am grateful that I am alive, and moving I this wonderfully exciting life adventure!

Inevitable Resolution

Preparing for this itinerant lifestyle requires quite an extensive sorting and purging process, that is a given. But a parallel process emerging is also a long overdue preparation for my inevitable demise. We're all going to pass on from this earth, but I have not (yet) prepared my life for this inevitability.

I love that word...inevitable...I hear it in my mind with the protracted syntax and voice of Hugo Weaving from The Matrix.

And, when I am finished with this preparation, I will also have wrapped up all of the details of how I would like what's left of my life to be resolved....because a person's life can't be resolved by their own doing.

Death is the ultimate resolution of a person's life.

One of my friends posted a quote by Donald Miller about Jazz...he said he never liked jazz because it didn't resolve...and it took him watching someone who was absolutely in love with the jazz music he was playing before he could find that level of appreciation...and he said God was the same way, there it was difficult to understand God because there was no resolution to God.

As I write about how it will take those who are left after I am gone to fully resolve my life, it makes perfect sense that God is unresolveable...because if it were even possible for God to die, there would be no one (or nothing) remaining to resolve God's life.

God is the ultimate unresolveable life.

I have no idea how to resolve God's life, but I do know that I don't want to leave the tangled mess to resolve the way my mom did. She hadn't made any preparation at all; so, here I am, more than 25 years after her death, and I am still sorting and purging the unresolved pieces of her life....at least the pieces that are my personal burden to resolve for her.

So, onward and upward I climb as I resolve my life down to the essential pieces that create a meaningful life for the remainder of my journey...and a simple inevitability for those who are left behind to resolve the last pieces of my life for me.

Philip Seymour Hoffman

I don't know why I am affected as I am, to read about this tragic end to the lifebof Philip Seymour Hoffman. When I first read the news, I felt like something struck me in the gut...and I've been feeling deep and heavy all day.

How does someone like Philip Seymour Hoffman lose his way?

There are "typical" Hollywood actors who naturally seem to belong in Hollywood, but Philip Seymour Hoffman didn't fit this stereotype, which is what I loved about him. He played roles that other actors couldn't (or wouldn't) take on. But more than this, he just seemed to see Hollywood for what it is, and not get sucked up by its ephemeral chemira-like nature.

I guess I was wrong.

Happiness is so elusive...we think the jewels of fame and fortune will be enough to make us happy, but clearly that is not the case. If he didn't feel "enough" without the drugs, he was never going to feel enough while on them.

I have never been entranced by the lure of drugs, but I am feeling scared, because I am letting go of nearly everything that has any tangible meaning for me personally, paring down my life to the core essence of what I believe will create the freedom for me to experience some kind of release from the parts of my journey that weigh me down...in search of the same essential life happiness that apparently eluded him, as well.

But am I deluding myself the same way Philip Seymour Hoffman deluded himself?

I feel like I am preparing for my death with all of this letting go...and I am symbolically...but what will I do when I reach the end of this journey still feeling cold and empty, jaded and cynical, depressed and disappointed, like something essential is still missing from my world?

As I said, I don't know why the death of a man I have never met would affect me this way...but I sincerely hope that I am able to find the joy that is noticeably missing from my own life...because I don't want my story to end as tragically as the one that ended today.

Every Ounce Matters

Organizing this trailer with the "must have" pieces of my life is starting to become a fun and creative challenge. So I ordered some slim jewel cases to condense down the CDs and DVDs that I want to maintain, but when I went to the store to pick them up tonight I, immediately knew that I was going ro return them, because even though they consensed the space well, the box was way too heavy! There was no way I was going to take on all of that extra weight!

So, I have reordered a different style of cases, ones that will barely add any weight at all, but the degres of shock that I felt when I picked up that "heavy" box made me realize just how sensitized I have become to just how much everything weighs! Yes, size definitely matters, but more importantly than size is the fact that every single ounce I can shave off matters, too!

My trailer is like a backpack for my car! An I am obsessed with the baggage that's going into this trailer...how big it it...how much it weighs...how much emotional significance it has...whether it's replaceable....how much I need it...how functional my life will be if I keep it...and on the list of considerations goes.

And I can't help but wonder how different my life would be if I were as focused on the emotional baggage in life as I am with the baggage going into this trailer. I can just imagine how much lighter I would feel if I understood how truly burdensome my emotional baggage really is on my spirit...if I weighed and considered each and every piece of emotional baggage that I take on in my everyday life...if I understood just as poignantly that every ounce of emotional baggage matters, too.

Personal Liberty

I did something last night that is causing some inner conflict today, because I can feel the invisible seething criticism from the guardians of all things proper and appropos on the inside of "the box."

But the problem isn't the critical opinions that people are having about what I did...the problem is that I am giving these opinions power to influence my choices about how I live my life.

As I was taking the trash out this morning I grumbled to imyself that this shouldn't even be an issue in the first place. But then I realized that it's an issue because I'm not the only person who has a right to form my own thoughts and opinions, which means that free will by its very nature implies a perpetual sea of difference.

Conflict about this sea of difference, however, is not inherent.

There is a very clear line between the choices that I make in my personal life with cause that effects that affect only me (choices that fall within the realm of personal liberty) and the choices that I make that fall within the realm of community accountability. Unfortunately, we don't always agree with which choices fall within which category of rights. 

Personal Rights vs. Public Accountability.

Thank God for the artists of the world, because it is the artist who is compelled by its very nature to question the rules, to push the boundaries, and to speak a truth that the people of the box could not even dare to whisper.

However, for the artist to survive, they must come to terms with this inner conflict with the critic...or their voice will be lost in the seas of chaos. And I do realize that the conflict ultimately lies within my own mind. So, I grapple once again with this INNER critic who assaults my choices and tries to rob the joy from the fun adventures of my artist self.

And, over the years I have learned one important truth about my artist self...the more pressured she feels to be silenced, the more compelled she feels to speak out and hold these self-imposed guardians of the box accountable for their critical judgments and negative commentary about how everyone else chooses to live the truth of their personal liberty.

So look out...because I am about to clean me some house! 

The Phoenix

I am more than a little bit in love with this part of my journey, right now. Every day more stuff is donated or delivered to its rightful place, and I feel lightened with each day's release.

Today was another very productive day, and tonight I tackled what I first thought would be the toughest piles to purge...my "process" history...journals, sketch pads, poetry portfolios...calendars...photos albums...etc. But I was wrong.

Now I have a box filled with stuff to be burned. And I will create a wonderful ceremony out of it...just myself so I can immerse into the moment of it...the same way we go through when a person dies...to honor and celebrate the life lived and lost.

I am honoring the parts of me that have died along the journey.

This process is so liberating...filled with great reverence and respect...no sad, slow dirge. And at the end of this work, when I leave this part of the world and head east in search of the path to my roots, it feels like an entirely new me is rising up out of all of this death that I've been holding on to, moving from place to place.

It feels amazing...and I can't wait to get to know this new me...

Thoreau on Wheels

My life is in transition. But, it is not a transition from one place to another...or from one job to another...or from one obligation to another, either. My life is transitioning internally. No longer am I willing to put my needs, my passions, my purpose on-hold in order to further someone else's passion, purpose, or agenda.

My life is now completely my own.

I am also no longer willing to spend the vast majority of my week working to earn the chinks to pay for the home to house the stuff. If having the stuff means that I need to work full-time to pay for all of the stuff-related-stuff, then I don't want the stuff...which is why I am sorting and purging my life down to "functional minimalist." (Oooh, I love this term!)

But I am not simply moving from one place to another.

My life is no longer on hold. This isn't another temporary fix that I'm willing to endure until my "real" life can be made manifest. This is it...my life is here...my life is now...and I am fully engaged with creating it in a way that reflects this wonderfully liberating inner transition.

My life is here...my life is NOW!

And I realized this morning that my life is like "Thoreau on Wheels." I am stepping outside of the bulk of social conventions so that I can live an authentic life...an unencumbered life with freedom to chase my dreams and pursue my passions. Dear Henry may have gone to the woods and built his own version of functional minimalist home, but I am building my functional minimalist home so that I can go to MANY woods. And there may be few who ever understand what I need to do, or why I need to do it...but their understanding is not required in order for me to continue moving forward....and, so, I do.

My trailer is not something to carry my things from one place to another...it is my home...my tiny, tiny little tumbleweed gypsy home that will make it possible for me to simply be (at home) wherever I am.

I am Thoreau on wheels...and that is enough, for me :)

The Stuff That Binds Us

I am so filled with anxiety right now. I bought the trailer yesterday, which took a good chunk of cash, so I was expecting this anxious backlash.

But, I''m also continuing with the sorting and purging project, working to pare down my life into this very tiny trailer space. And, not to fill it to capacity, but to create functionality...so, paring down this stuff is kicking up HUGE waves of anxiety.

But this is exactly what this life change is all about! The stuff that's making me feel anxious tonight is stuff that I bought for future potential projects that I have not had time or energy for...and will NEVER have time or energy for...yet here I am, feeling like I can't breathe because these books are in a pile to be donated to the library!

I can't wait to rid my mind and body of all of this stuff!

Here's what I know...this anxiety lives in me every day, whether I am sorting and purging, or not. Because whether (or not) I am thinking about it consciously, there is a part of me that is VERY aware that we bought this stuff, and she's been waiting for her turn to manifest her projects, too...so that part of me has been stirring up all of this internal anxiety!

How many times do i need to be reminded that I can't do everything that I want to do?!

Oh, my goodness, I am going to feel so liberated when I am finished with this work!.I know it! I can feel the release of burden, which is what THIS anxiety is. It's not really even a "current" anxiety, because it's not about anything that's real in my life right now.This is a release of the anxiety that's become stagnant and binding of my time, my energy, my spirit!

This is anxiety passing through you...just breathe, and let it go....

Life On My Terms

Today I resigned from the last significant responsibility that I had on my plate...and I realize tonight that I have pared my life down so that for the first time in my life, I am finally living life on my terms...completely on my own terms.

But, living life on my terms has its price.

I had to let go of the job that provided financial security. I had to let go of the stable home that kept Sarra and me safe and warm. I had to let go of the academic program that promised to finally make me marketable. I had to let go of the piping society, community piping, and piper's glen. I also had to let go of all of the hopes that I've been carrying around within my heart about how other people might change the way they think and feel about me. But most importantly, I've had to let go of the image of who I thought I was supposed to be.

My world is crumbling to pieces around me...and I am doing nothing to try and stop it or perform CPR to resuscitate it back to life.

I am finally letting go...

On the other side of this process, I am creating a life that I can manage without having to answer to another single person for what I do, or how I do it. (Within lawful social parameters, of course.) And, my life is now pared down to nothing but me and what makes my soul babble.

My life is finally all about me...

I don't mean that in a narcissistic way. What I mean is that my life is finally all about me...MY passion....MY purpose...MY path. And because my life has been whittled down to nothing more than what I choose to do with my own life, other people's thoughts and words about me become nothing more than the  opinions that they have a right to hold in their own mind about me and what I choose to do with my life. BUT, they no longer have any authority over me personally, or how I choose to live and apply my passion and purpose.

No one any longer has a say in how I choose to live my life...as I am now only accountable to God for my choices and actions...so I am finally free to absolutely live life on my terms...

The Company You Keep

Everything has an end. But the past few months have been a long, painful series of letting-go of cherished and meaningful pieces of my life here in Prescott, with this past week resulting in the final loss that makes it absolutely clear that it's time to move on.

There's now nothing left here that holds any meaning for me at all, and the common thread embedded within each of these losses is choice...MY choice...and the inevitable loss that necessarily results when a difficult choice has been made.

I am only recently starting to understand, not only how much of a "bridge between" I have become, but just how damaging the toll exacted upon my spirit by the holding of this tension has been. And I am just beginning to find a connection between the anxiety that wraps itself around and through my chest, and the tension created by bridging between two sides of a difficult choice that I don't want to make.

It is a lovely blessing that I have such a strong capacity to hold the tension between opposite sides...between diametric perspectives. But, just because I can understand both sides, that doesn't mean that I don't have my own thoughts, my own values, my own beliefs that affect my ability to remain neutral,  unbiased, and choice-free.

I have been afraid to choose one side or the other, yet paralyzed by the tension created by having one foot on one side and one on the other.

The losses in my life have occurred because I have been forced by circumstance to support one side or the other...I finally had to make a choice. And once that choice was made, there was then a withdrawal of support both to and from the other side. And in those critical split-second moments when the deepest truth of my personal loyalties were decided, the bridge was burned...and there is, now, no going back.

I was reminded today that we are defined by the company that we keep. And as much as I want to resist this truth, the company that we keep is reflected in these critical choices of loyalty. What is more important? Sobriety? Or our druggie friends? This is only one example, of course, but certainly clarifies the point.

We ARE defined by the company that we choose to keep.

I have more choices to make, of course...choices about what is more important to me...because that's what makes a choice difficult...when we have to make a choice between two things that are both important to us.

Other people have also been making their own choices of loyalty...and it's always enlightening when people choose to disengage from their loyalty to you. Sometimes that process can be subtle and confusing, while other times as swift and shocking as a sword slicing off one's hand.

So, just like the hermit crab, I have outgrown a life shell, and there is great freedom in the letting go of something that has painfully bound and constrained me throughout this past year. I can see, now, that I have resisted letting go of this particular piece because I felt safe and accepted by the inhabitants in that world...even if my growth was limited and stifled by it.

So, we absolutely are defined by the company that we choose to keep, and I have made a choice this week that redefines who I am...a choice that burns a bridge and alters the course and direction of my life. And as painful as this is, I am strangley comforted by the relief that comes with this choice...and the curious wondering of why I did not make this choice sooner.

Right Now Plan

We read these inspirational quotes and Facebook memes every day, and we all agree that these wonderful warm fuzzies are the way life "should" be lived. But the idea of living in the now or living an open-ended life is soooo much easier than actually doing so, because living an open-ended life means that I have to let go of the endless possibilities as contency plans on the other side of this journey to Nova Scotia, which is proving to be much more challenging than at first appeared.

I have borrowed Miranda Bailey's plan for Seattle Grace Hospital, and have adopted it as the best description of what my life plan has become.

My new life management plan is the Right Now Plan.

So, today I am hitting the truth of this new plan head on. Well, actually, it's more accurate to say that this new plan is hitting me head on, because I'm going round and round in my head about the best way to proceed with the "stuff management" part of the plan based on this endless list of possible lives on the OTHER side of the "right now" plan!  But the cold, hard truth is that a right now plan sort of implies that there is no future plan that guides the journey, which is why my brain keeps spinning its wheels...it's having to integrate a new reality into existing thought structures that are resisting the reality update.

There is no "other side" contingency plan of a "right now" life plan.

This is so very difficult for me to let go of the illusion of control...because that's what these contingency plans are...the illusion that I will be able to manage and control the course of events that will take place between now and some intangible point in the future after Nova Scotia, so that I will land in the exact spot in order to manifest this plan of future contingency.

How can I possibly know who I will be after this life changing experience I am about to drop myself into?

I am trying to make plans based on who I am now...what I want now...what I can envision as possibility now. All of this is subject to revision anywhere from mild adjustments to a complete overhaul....and I can not know what that revision is going to be!

In an open-ended life, I'm not in control of the process! Or the outcome!

So my right now plan is not just kicking my ass, it's kicking my ass into a total and complete commitment to this journey. It's like I'm stepping through a Ring Gate, so it's truly an all or nothing venture. I can't keep one foot on both sides (the way I have managed change so far). No. I have to make a 100% commitment to this process, which is not as easy as it seems!

So I will learn how to live my life as it is actually happening by simply doing it...day to day...moment to moment...at each point and juncture that I will need to let go of the need to control both the process and the fore-planned outcome....one illusion of control at a time....one illusion at a time...

Soul Babbling

I just had one of the most fascinating conversations with an artist friend of mine. She made an off the cuff comment about not being able to change the past, and a jolt of truth reverberated through me that she is absolutely right, because we can only change the course and direction of where we're headed. Even in the small, local geography of our lives, we only have control over where we choose to direct our lives each day!

I seriously felt a jolt through my whole being to feel the truth of these words.

So we continued with this conversation, about directions of our lives, and she said she would love to spend time in Utah. For me, I have no spiritual connection to Utah whatsoever, so I asked, Why Utah? And, she told me that Utah makes her soul babble...

Utah makes my soul babble, she said.

Wow! This is exactly what my life transition is all about...why I've let go of an apartment that I've outgrown...why I've quit a job that stresses me and doesn't support my brain's healing... and why I'm engaged in a sort and purge process to free up my physical and psychological freedom....because I want the course and direction of my life to be all about moving from experience to experience that makes my soul babble.

I am shedding the me that I think I'm supposed to be, falling in love with the truth of who I am...and, I am absolutely changing the course and direction of my life so that my soul can babble every single day.

And life doesn't get any deeper or more profound than this.

Paradox

I just finished watching I am Legend, and while I've seen this film many times before, something very poignant stands out for me tonight...and that's about the basic human need for connection with other human beings.

I had a conversation earlier with a friend of mine (who also blogs) about this inner pressure that I experience when I post...an internal pressure created by the perceived outer pressure to just "shut up" about whatever I am writing. We both understand that writing about our experience is what we need to heal, yet we are healing in an environment that doesn't always value the public sharing of one's inner process.

For me, it's about survival...and just like Robert Nevill who talks to mannequins in order to feel human, we all have a need to speak and be heard...even me, the queen of solitude and isolation.

But what I'm realizing is that I am a bit of a paradox, because I'm so socially impaired that my trauma therapist is recommending occupational therapy for social repair work, yet I blog publicly about an inner vulnerability that seems uncharacteristic for a person who avoids people because she feels so threatened by and painfully vulnerable in their presence.

But I think this is precisely why blogging is so deeply important to me. My brain may interpret social interaction as a dangerous threat (and so it responds in ways that helps to promote and sustain social isolation), yet there remains a kind and sensitive "me" inside who still needs to feel valued and appreciated and connected with others (which is, of course, something to be achieved through the kind of social interaction that freaks out my brain).

Like I said...paradox.

Living with PTSD isn't easy, but it is what it is...and so I continue to journey on with my life doing the very best that I can to connect with people through this invisible war zone that separates me from my self.

50%

As I eagerly await the arrival of my very first set of bagpipes, there is a lot of information that I still need to sort through and make sense of, because just like a real baby, these bagpipes are going to require a great deal of care and maintenance...and if I don't know what I'm doing, then it's an investment worth nothing.

Yesterday's investigation involved proper humidification of the wood. I could have bought plastic pipes, but I wanted the wood, so I'm researching ways to achieve the optimal 50% humidification. And this morning I awaken with the nagging question, Why do I not invest the same kind of care and maintenance of my body that I am investing in my bagpipes?

High maintenance is what it is, and if I want my pipes to survive this harsh, humidity deficient desert environment, then I will need to wipe and swab no matter how tired I am at the end of the day. So I need to start applying the same dedication to supporting what I need as I am supporting the needs of my bagpipes...because I can always buy another set of bagpipes, but I can't buy a new body.

Walking Alone...

I'm sure I will look back upon where I am now from a future vantage point that offers a fresh perspective and feel grateful for the journey, but there is no gratitude in my heart on this day. This day is just filled by a cold, dark void, and I can't imagine ever feeling the warmth of joy.

I have never felt more alone, ever in my life. There are no hopeful horizons offering false senses of a better tomorrow, only this heavy resignation to the fact that this is my life, whether I like it or chose it, this difficult walk alone has become my life.

It's a choice, of course, because there are ways of walking with others, but the only path where I find integrity with my personal values is to walk alone. Yet even as I write this, I am aware that it's not really a walking alone...but, rather a walking my path with God...and that truth is the only comfort in the dark void.

I don't know why God created me so utterly clear on what a life of integrity with God means...but this is who I am, and not even I can change that truth. And, so I walk alone in this world...yet, at one within myself...finding gratitude that I walk with God...even if there isn't a single other person who understands the journey that is me...

The Tree Has Leaves!

I attended an early childhood conference this weekend, and something amazing has happened. During one of the workshops we were supposed to doodle something nature related, and I doodled a sketch of the tree that I've been sketching for twenty years, and this was the first tree in twenty years that has ever had leaves. The very first tree in twenty years that has ever had leaves. And not only leaves, but tiny purple buds of flowers!

Do not fear the dark stories. . . .

At first I thought the tree had a look of horror about it, but by the time I got home the tree was speaking to me, and it told me, "Do not fear The Dark Stories...for the beauty remains ever alive and vibrant, lying patiently in wait for the light to gently awaken the restless shadow of silent joy."

The restless shadow of silent joy is awakening!

I love what this tree has to say, with its first signs of life making clear that something is changing. And I will embrace this change, for this new tree has life vibrating all around it, with insects flittering around the branches and ants crawling up the stock of the trunk. . . and the music and love that flutters all around.

Let the awakening begin!

Lost Love, Found

Today is St. Valentine's Day, a day of celebrating love, so I have posted one of the many hearts that I have found along my path over these past three years. I honestly don't know why the heart rocks (and shapes) started to appear in my life, but they have become such a wonderfully expected piece of unexpected joy, so I honor these wonderful reminders that we are surrounded by love every day.

My life is a journey of love and healing.

I'm going through a lot right now, most of which no one person (except for me, and God, of course) really knows the full brunt of it. I don't need the world to know every detail of my life, but there are those moments when the behind the scenes process "leaks out" from behind the public persona, and I become all too human in ways that make me cringe and laugh at myself at the same time.

Abandonment issues are but only one of my Achilles heels.

Recent events in my world have caused a disturbance in the force. Someone who was in charge of something very important to me departed hastily, leaving the rest of us scrambling to figure out what we were going to do in response to being leaderless and potentially divided. And the night before last I read that he was forming a new group (rather than just taking an indefinite leave of absence publicly stated), which felt like a mule had kicked me in the stomach, leaving me nauseous and filled with uncertainty.

So I spent the day locked in the land of anxious thoughts, obsessed and fixated on the question, Why did he leave?

Well, last night, as I was tossing and turning in my normal routine of sleepless wall-gazing, I tried to find the source of my obsessive anxiety. And that's when it hit me: the roots to my obsessive anxiety about why he left go all the way back to when I was five years old and my Daddy walked out of my world. At five years old, my Dad was everything in my world, and when he walk away, it left a huge gaping hole in my heart that never found the answer to the burning question, Why did he leave?

And not only just, Why did he leave? But the deeper and more painful question, Why did he leave me?

To some, my need to understand the roots of my obsessive anxiety has no meaning for them. They think I am fixated on "the past" and should just "move on." The problem (for me) is that I grew up in a family system where there was no place for me to process what was happening in my life. So when my Dad walked away, there was no one there to help me process and make sense of that experience, because my job was to help my mom to stay emotionally grounded well enough to take care of us. So I had to tuck away all of those feelings so that I could focus on helping my mom, which has then left all of the feelings locked up inside of me. . .until now.

Yes, I have abandonment issues. . . lol. . . but I didn't get them all on my own.

What I find interesting is how this early childhood program is so perfectly timed in my life progression. Back when I was starting my master's grad school program, the family therapy program was all about family dynamics and family systems. That's where I started to process the drama of my very dysfunctional early life, but the focus then was on the family as a system, and not really the individual players. It was a good place for me to start, as I needed to sort through all of that drama first, to break the pieces down into "bite sized" chunks of emotional experience.

But now I am in the early childhood program where the focus is solely on the child. So what's happening now is that I am able to reflect on my own personal experiences as a young child as projected through the readings and class projects. Not everyone will process through this program the way that I do, but it is my way. I am using this program as a vehicle to search through my own childhood so that I can grow and develop my whole self, and not just the adult me who is engaged in this program.

I love the psychology of human growth and development, and I live my life as an in-progress work of art.

I think it's a wonderful sign that I am able to start accessing my feelings--MY feelings--from when I was a young child, instead of viewing my world as a character in the drama of my family. To feel the pain last night of the five year old me feeling lost and confused about why her daddy had left her is just such a gift, because now I can finally process through that very confusing and emotionally intense experience that's been locked up inside of my heart for nearly 45 years.

So my five year old self may have lost the love of her daddy all of those many years ago, but we are reminded each day of the love that surrounds us every time I find one of these endearing heart shapes along my path, the symbols of love found along the way. And I may still be "flying solo" on this most auspicious day of love, but I remain hopeful that someone will one day be able to love me for who I am, to love all of me, even the parts that still react to the dark stories that I carry within my heart and soul.

But in the mean time, I will continue to learn how to love myself in spite of my many limitations and liabilities. So Happy Valentine's Day to my little broken-hearted five year old self. . . .you are well loved and never alone <3

The Language of God

I have started to read and compare Bible passages from two different sources, which is giving different interpretations of the "same" pieces of scripture. This morning's reading was the story of Genesis, how God created the earth out of the empty void, and I've been thinking all day about the language of God.

God may (or may not) have actually given voice to creation in actual language, I don't know. But what I do know about the language that God uses to create is that it is studied every single day here on earth. . . only the academicians don't refer to it as studying the language of God. . . .in academia it's called Math, Biology, Physics, Astronomy, Chemistry, etc.

The language of God that creates all living beings is DNA. . . .the encoded "language" that creates a whole living and breathing human being. It's amazing, actually...to really think about how a human being is able to walk and talk, live and breath as a developed outcome of the unique and specific DNA written just for each person.

And the language of  God that creates the elements of earth is found in the laws of Physics, the protons and electrons, top quarks and bottom quarks, and the special forces that create all of the specific and unique elements found on earth. These laws are the language of God, and we don't even really give honor to the deepest truth of this fact. Every object that moves and interacts with anything else is governed by these laws. . .the language of God.

I was driving to school this morning thinking about how invisible the language of God is, yet so blatently in our faces everywhere if we just look at the truth of what creates everything. At first when I saw the cars I thought, well they're clearly not made by God, but I was wrong. We humans may mix and shape various elements in ways that allow for the structure and function of a car to emerge, and we feel smug in the glory of that accomplishment, but we haven't created anything. It's all still governed by the laws of Chemistry and Physics, so we haven't created anything.

Reforming and reshaping isn't creating.

It makes me think about free will in a very different way, because cars are not something that God created, yet they are allowed to exist because the language of God that creates the elements allows for the mixing and reshaping to happen, even if it ends up harming people and the earth. We're like mad scientists running around playing with a language we can't comprehend in any meaningful way. . . .but we play with it anyway. . . .which is such a terrifying thought, really.

I so very much want to put God first, in the ways talked about from the reading this morning, but it's not easy. I tried to hold my attention all day long today on just how beautiful the language of God is, and it's amazing how easily distracted I was by the language of the inconsequential and unimportant.

Well, I may not have listened to the language of God very well today, but I will try again tomorrow. . . .I will definitely try again tomorrow. . .

The Ugly, The Bad, and The Good

The band had a gig last week, the first one that I've been involved with since I joined the band back in October, and I learned something very interesting about my crazy PTSD brain.

I had decided that I was perfectly content to not play anything (especially since I'm only on the chanter, and not the pipes like the rest of the guys), but I was called out to play, and so I did.

My anxiety was more about having a panic attack or passing out than what anyone thought about me or my playing, but when my reed clamped up my anxiety rose even higher.

So I stepped away to change reeds, which I did, and then I have no memory of going back to play. I know that I did. . .and I remember (in fragments) the rest of the evening, but I have no memory of playing Chanty once I returned with the replacement reed. I was in such a heightened stated of anxiety by that point that my brain interpretted that level of stress as a trauma event, and completely blocked out the memory, even though it was actually a "good" event.

My brain is not differentiating between "positive" and "life threatening" events. . . .all it knows is heightened anxiety = trauma.

The up-side to this very disturbing fact is that it helps me to understand (and accept) why I have such a hard time focusing and concentrating when I am stressed. I don't know what to do with this information yet, but I think it's another very important piece to the PTSD puzzle I am (unfortunately) tasked with solving.

It's funny how the reed clamping up is such a beautiful symbolic reflection of exactly what's happening in my brain. And the irony is that the reed that I apprently did use to play hasn't worked since that night. . . .another symbol of the work that remains for me to do. . . .to fix the broken reeds in my brain so that I can play without having the excitement interpretted as trauma. Good grief!

So I will play (in public) again, and again, and again, because now that I know how my brain is processing a heightened anxiety expiences, I will use them to my advantage by re-teaching my brain that a heightened anxiety experience can also mean that I am doing something exhillerating that I enjoy, (so that it doesn't just automatically respond as if I'm being assaulted again).

It will take time and effort, of course, to fix the broken reeds in my brain, as the PTSD brain is no quick or easy fix. . .but I will grind whatever grist the mill requires, because it's really very important that I be able to remember the ugly, the bad, and the good.

The Best of All Possible Worlds

One of the very first college classes I took was an introductory philosophy class. It wasn't so much a general survey class, as it was an introduction to Descartes, but one of the concepts from that class that has bothered me very deeply for all of these years is the theory that we live in the best of all possible worlds.

This is the best of all possible worlds?

How can we be living in the best of all possible worlds when all I have to do is look around at all of the wars, famine, violence, child abuse, earth abuse. . . .the list could literally go on for days. So I've never been able to get on board with this philosophical theory, because it's very clear to me that this world is anything but the best of all possible worlds.

About ten years ago I received a book as a gift (The Four Agreements). I read the book when I first received it, thought it was a wonderful idea, but then it sat on my shelves collecting dust ever since. Then several weeks ago the trauma counselor mentioned the book in passing, and when she couldn't recall all four agreements I pulled the book off of the dusty shelf to find the name of the missing agreement. And after I had left a message on her voicemail with the agreement's name, I nearly tossed the book into the thrift store box collecting the sorted and purged pieces of my life, but something nudged me to reread the book instead.

And there it was: Do your best.

The fourth agreement is simply to "Do your best" in all things. Good enough advise, but in the book the author talks about how our best changes from day to day, and sometimes even from minute to minute because our best isn't going to be the same when we're exhausted or sick as when we're healthy and rested. Very profound. Well, profound for me, because this truth (at this point in my journey) is helping me to let go of the need to continually beat myself up for having done less than what I think I "should" have done either here in the present, but mostly about choices that were made in the past.

I contain multitudes.

I have always loved this quote from Walt Whitman, as I contain multitudes, too. I'm not a single entity, as there are all kinds of different "parts" to me (e.g., the concept of inner child , internalized parent, or inner critic are but a few examples of parts). The author also talks about how these different parts actually access and use a specific and unique part of the brain, which is absolutely fascinating to consider.

So, what I experience as my best on any given day is more the sum collection of the best of all of the different parts of me and how well they are able to work together (and clearly some parts are more limited than others. . . .lol). But I'm really doing the absolute best that is possible for me, given all of the limitations that exist within my life, whether that limitation is based on my genetic code, behavioral choices, cognitive belief structure, or damage to the brain from the PTSD. I'm doing the best that I can possibly do.

I live in the best of all possible worlds that exist within my self.

It's the all that catches my eye. Since I contain multitudes, then I also contain a multitude of worlds, because each part has its own specific and unique possible world (if it could function separately from all other parts of me, which isn't possible, of course, but this is the concept). Which means, then, that what I call "me" is actually a collection of all of these possible worlds that are contained within my self. And this is more than just an exercise in philosophy for me, because this truth changes the way that I comprehend the world that I co-create with every other part of God's creations.

Because, if I'm doing the best that I possibly can, then so is everyone else.

This truth is not very easy for me to accept, as I can be just as harsh in my judgment of other people's best as I am with my own. But at the end of the day, what this means is nothing more than this crazy mixed up world that we all co-create together (as the sum collection of each and everyone's best) really is the best of all possible worlds. Not because everyone is making the best choice for the world in each and every choice, because quite honestly we're all running around with our own ideas of what this "best" is supposed to look like. But mostly because everyone is just doing the best that is possible given each person's specific and unique limitations.

So we live in the best of all possible worlds, as the sum collection of everyone's individual best.

And while I still don't understand why some people's "best" includes not-so-random acts of violence against other people, I do have more compassion for the lot of the human race, and particularly for myself because I am harder on myself than anyone else will ever be. But that is changing. . . .slowly. . . .because I am beginning to see that I really am doing the absolute best that I can do.

Perhaps if I can remind myself of this truth often enough, I might actually start to believe it. . . lol.

Want -vs- Don't Want

At my last session, the readjustment counselor asked me the magical question of how I would "want" my life to be. She was trying to get me to look beyond the panic and insomnia, but her question did not have the desired outcome. I immediately shook my head because to ask that kind of question tells me two things: (1) she doesn't have a clue what to do to really help me, and (2) she doesn't have a clue what it's like to live exhausted with panic attacks every day! How would I want my life to be? I would want my life to be panic free and to be able to get a good night's sleep, that's how I would want my life to be.

But I can't have what I want. . . .and therein lies the problem.

So for someone who doesn't have them, I guess they just can't understand what a panic attack is (or understand why that kind of question would be such a slap in my face). Because I can tell you with great certainty that the panic attacks and insomnia aren't behavioral choices that I make. And while I may be able to change the way that I relate to them in my every day life, the panic attacks have hijacked my life. . . .and I certainly can't force myself to sleep. So please don't invalidate the truth of my life by posing a magical fantasy question that I would never be able to bring about. Grrrrr....

However, having said that, something wonderful has happened on the other side of her question.

I have been thinking about my life in terms of what I want, and what I don't want. The cancer I don't want. The panic attacks I don't want. The nightmares I don't want. The insomnia I don't want. But since these parts of my life are not choices that I make in the first place, all that's left is for me to either fight them (or not). . . to accept them (or not). . . .and to do what I can to improve my quality of life in spite of them (or not).  I have no control over these pieces. Period.

If I can't control it, I can't change it.

Powerful words. Especially when I look at how every single part of my life that I don't want boils down to these two categories: (1) the parts of my life that I don't want but do NOT have no power to control or change, and (2) the parts of my life that I don't want and i DO have the power to control and change. And it is this second list that has now sparked my keen interest and motivation, because there is actually a lot of things in my life that I don't want, but I absolutely do have have control over, which also gives me the power to make the choices that will bring about the desired change.

If I can control the choice, then I have the power to change what I don't want into what I do want.

So this is where I am with my very challenging life: it IS a challenging life. Which now means that anything I can do that will help to make my life more enjoyable, to bring about a higher quality of life, then I'm going to do just that. If this is really going to just be what my life is, then I'm not going to make compromises in any other part of my life where I have the ability to change what I don't want into what I DO want.

Which is why I am moving to New England as soon as I have completed this program.

I don't really want to live in Prescott Valley. I chose to move here because it's close to the VA resources that I need, it's close to the community college where I'll be completing this academic program, and it's where this amazingly affordable housing is located. Beyond that there is a very long list of things about this part of the world that I do not want, but I have compromised and have tried to learn to live with them because of the other positives this area offers for me. However. . .the only part of these factors that necessitates that I stay here (temporarily) is the community college piece.

So once I am finished with this program, I will relocate to some place where I want to live, because I'm just no longer willing to compromise on what I really want, especially when there are so many challenging pieces that I do not want, but have to learn how to accept them. Maybe if I had fewer difficult pieces it might be easier to settle for less than I want and compromise, but no more.

No more compromise!

So this is the year where I start transferring as much of my energy away from fighting against what I don't want, and chanelling it into what I do want. Oh, my. . . .it's going to be a very busy year!

A Tumble Weed's Life

Tumble weeds are amazing. They are the only plant that I know of that can disconnect its roots and roll around until they find an environment with enough water to support their life and growth. That's what tumble weeds are doing when they're out rolling around. . . . they're still alive in a state of hibernation,  searching for a better part of the world filled with the utopian hope of a better life once they have found what they're looking for.

I can just imagine what the planter box flowers think of the tumble weeds....lol.

Humans have people who are tumble weeds, too (only they're known by different names, such as gypsy, free spirit, wanderer, irresponsible flake. . .lol). I relate, of course, to the spirit of the tumble weed. And one of the most horrific sights for me is when I find a tumble weed stuck in a fence along side of a road, having been haphazardly blown there with no way of moving on the promised land. . . .stuck and oppressed by the fence of thwarted paths. My heart wrenches and wants to scream out the window, "Cry Freedom!" to the spirit of the stuck little tumble weed.

I guess it's more accurate to say that I over identify with the tumble weed's life. . . .lol.

I have always loved this part of me, the me who can uproot when needed and move on to greener fields on vast and distant shores. I've done it so many times that I don't very much think about it, really. I've uprooted myself with or without a job waiting for me on the other side, with or without knowing even a single person. Sometimes I think my life makes other people around me nervous, but it's my life, and I am mostly OK with it.

Tumble weeds don't have the same needs as planter box flowers.

Planter box flowers are afraid of the lack of a secure structure and uncertain sources of water. But these are not the fears of the tumble weed, as they uproot themselves with great ease to go off in search of the water. No, tumble weeds aren't afraid of uncertain water sources. Tumble weeds are afraid of fences and a civilized progress that boxes up the wide open spaces. And tumble weeds don't really care much about how scruffy other people think they look as they're out rolling around, either.

But there is a dark side to the life of a human tumble weed, and that has to do with the attachments we make with people we find in the environments where we have temporarily rooted ourselves.

I received a letter today from a woman I was friends with about ten years ago, and it was not an easy letter for me to read, as she was quite straight forward and honest about what she thinks about the way that I treated our friendship during a quick series of uprooted searches by my tumble weed spirit. It's no easy thing to read the hard, direct truth of another person when that truth is in response to the me on the other side of her anger and resentment that clearly remains powerful and present in her world.

And even though I know that the choices that I made had to do with me, what I needed to do for me, and had nothing at all to do with her or with any intention on my part of hurting her, the fact remains that she was hurt by the thoughtless and careless way that I treated the friendship. My friendship with this woman became collateral damge on the other side of my need to uproot and roll off in search of what I needed at the time, and that is not an easy truth for me to own. It's even harder for me to feel the truth that this friendship is not the only collateral damage created from a lifestyle of uprooting and searching for a better life.

So, tumble weeds may uproot themselves because they will eventually die if they remain where they are, but this is apparently no comfort for the planter box flowers who get casually left behind. I may have been doing the best that I could do at the time--and I was--but my best wasn't anywhere near as kind or considerate as I wish it had been. Other tumble weeds understand the lifestyle of "uproot and roll," but the planter box flowers do not always understand.

Yes, I have much to learn about how to nurture and maintain my friendships with the planter box flowers I find along my journey.