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