"I couldn't live up to her." He had allowed himself that lapse into an urge that was thrown back like a wave from a rock. He had not considered the alternative, the living down to a woman. -Warwick Deeping
I read that passage in a book today and it struck a chord in me. It made me pause and ask haven't I found myself in that place before, being willing to live down to the level of a lesser man because it was easier than fighting to be worthy of a man to be lived up to? I do not mean a lesser man in the sense of being unworthy of love and caring, but lesser in the sense that he chose to live far below the goal of his potential. I know the answer is yes, and I know that in giving that answer I must admit that I was living below my own potential. I was not a woman to be lived up to and in that weakness of character how could I ever hold out a helping hand to lift him out of himself? The reality shames me. In thinking I was somehow showing grace and love, I was living selfishly and for my own glory. What else inspires you to take the easy road and give in to your personal romanticism but selfishness and pride? A dream of helping someone be greater than they wish to be? Love would have stood on solid ground as an example, always beckoning but never faltering from the truth. I failed myself and in doing so I failed him, it is a sorrow that cannot be changed only learned from.
My hope is to be found a woman worthy of being lived up to. To someday find a man I must live up to. That together standing on a firm foundation we will be examples to each other. The one always encouraging the other to push harder and further than they thought possible. Each moment inspired by my desire to be the best me possible and in turn be worthy of the best that he desires to be. I recognize that union can never be without my constant focus on the Lord, always striving to be my best for Him. Likewise it cannot be without his constant focus on the Lord, always striving to be the best for Him. I recognize if that man never crosses my path, I am beautiful and perfect and whole so long as I am focusing on what is right and true.
I have 'lived down' for someone before, and I could not respect who I had become. The inherent weakness in me that I knew was in control. I have come out the other side and see my own stupidity for what it was. I only hope as I find my sure footing, that the Lord grant me grace and mercy not to fail so again. That I might be a light on a hill, His light. And, if it is in His will, someday, I may find someone standing next to me helping me to hold tight as the waves of life crash around us.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Monday, May 14, 2012
An Unexpected and Long Awaited Day
If faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things unseen then what is the thing you gave up hope of and saw as impossible? A seed germinated by the warmth of sunlight, that seed buried so deeply inside your hard cold earth you imagined it had withered into the dust it was born from. Somehow fantastically, no miraculously, sprung to life. Pushing upward breaking layers you thought impenetrable in its courageous ascent to the surface of your heart, and at the same time plunging thick veins rooting themselves in the core of your very being until you cannot remember why you ever thought the dream dead. It can not be faith as your hope was dormant, or is it a fulfillment of a promise? A faith once forgotten and now renewed because you allowed light and joy, that cleansing waterfall, to pour over your soul without shielding yourself from it's rushing tempest? Yes faith, that is it. This is a story of substance hoped for being found, of seeing what was so long unseen.
Last May, just over one year ago. I sat in the audience of my friend Laura's graduation from ASU. The day was warm, but beautiful and I was bursting with pride and happiness for her. She had worked so hard and was already focused on her next degree. She is a glorious specimen of steadiness and determination. She spies her goal and will not stop pushing forward until she has attained it. Something I felt greatly lacking in while watching her cross that stage.
I was three classes away from my bachelor's degree when I moved to Arizona in 2005. My original thought was to finish the classes through ASU and be done with my degree....but life happened and distracted me. After several months of adjusting to nights/weekends shift work I became unsettled in my position at work and chose to become a police officer. Four and a half, of the hardest and most awesome training I have ever been through, later I graduated and began my career. Then I had training to complete, then adjusting to police work dominated my life, then I became a trainer....somehow there was never the right time to sign up for the classes I needed. Finally, about four years after moving to Arizona, I determined to do what was needed and get my classes done....but ASU requires a long and rather tedious process before accepting out of state credit hours. I felt I had hit a wall and determined within myself that I had a solid job I enjoyed and was good at, why did I need that degree anyway? Move on Laura! So I did, I thought, I let that dream die away and focused on doing my job to the best of my ability.
That spring day last year I felt the dearth my decision had left me with, I felt it inside the core of my being. What could I possibly do about it now I thought. It's too late, you should let it go. But I felt a still small voice saying, "Why don't you call your old school. Maybe they have classes online you can take?" I pushed the thought away as ridiculous, but it danced around in the corners of my mind a strange moth-like creature refusing to be ignored. Finally, I gave in. On a hot summer morning after my daily prayers when the thought was so persistent it became a palpable being sitting next to me and invading every moment with its incessant what if's I defiantly looked up the number to my old school. What followed was a series of calls and what appeared to be innumerable dead ends. I knelt on the hot stone of a quiet patio and prayed. "Lord, if this thought is from you. If somehow you have a plan that I will need this degree for. If it will bring glory to your name, please help me talk with the right person. Please help it be possible for me to finish the degree even if it takes some time and money, just point me in the right direction and make it possible."
I dialed one more number in my endless list and hit a possible lead. The girl on the other end of the line did not have the answer I needed, however she did have a phone number for the director of the Modern Languages department (my degree program was in Spanish). If, she told me doubtfully, there was anyone who could help me it would be him. I whispered one more prayer and dialed the number....it went to voicemail. After leaving what I am sure was a rambling and semi incoherent message I felt at peace for the first time since that pesky thought had pushed it's way into the recesses of my mind. I had done my best and did not expect great results, but maybe something good would come of it. Several hours later I got a call back from the director. I explained to him my situation and what I was hoping to accomplish. He did not sound hopeful as he promised to look up my case and get back to me when he could. I decided the entire thing was probably said and done with and settled within my mind to patiently wait for the response I was sure would be a solid no.
That next morning during prayers I recited my prayer from the previous day. I had asked two close friends to also pray that the Lord's will would be done and I would be okay with whatever He decided. As I finished my prayers and started my day the telephone rang. It was the director calling, "Laura I have some good news." his voice boomed with joy over the receiver, "I have looked over your case and am happy to tell you that you are eligible for graduation." My mind went numb....surely I did not just hear him say the words he said. "I'm sorry, what did you say.", I asked incredulously. He laughed and gleefully responded, "We just changed our degree requirements and no longer require a major/minor focus but only credit hours. You have more than enough credit hours to graduate. You could graduate in August if you got all the requirements done." It was all I could do not to scream into the phone with joy. I leapt around the house needing somehow to express the thrill that coursed through my body crashing against my consciousness in devastating waves of happiness. "I don't understand, I'm done. How is that possible?", the good doctor calmly assured me that it was indeed very real and possible, while I would have a final test to take and would have to complete one class online to renew my catalog year I was as done as the rains in the Sahara. Then he said the words that humbled me to my core, "If you had called even a week ago there would not have been much I could have done for you. You called at just the perfect time when we had voted on the new program and it has just officially been approved."
All at once the realization of just how the Lord had orchestrated everything hit me and knocked the wind out of my sails. It was all I could do to keep myself together and get off the phone so that I could collapse on my knees in thank you's. How perfect is the Lord and His never ending goodness to me? He knew, how long ago did He know and plan just the perfect moment to wake in me the desire to complete my degree? Even now in writing this I am overcome at His awesome power and his grace to me. I cried for I do not know how long, thanking Him for not forgetting me, for upholding His promises even when I had forgotten them. For renewing a right heart in me that I would be ready to receive His wondrous and abundant gifts. All I could think was....filled to overflowing, my joy is filled to overflowing.
On May 5th of this year, one year later. I graduated from the University of Central Missouri. It's not an amazing feat of any gift or talent that I have. It is all wholly and purely a gift and plan from the Lord. I can take no credit, for it all came from His hand to me. I am in awe and I am in expectation, waiting to see what He would have me do with this great blessing. For where He leads me I will follow....amen.
Last May, just over one year ago. I sat in the audience of my friend Laura's graduation from ASU. The day was warm, but beautiful and I was bursting with pride and happiness for her. She had worked so hard and was already focused on her next degree. She is a glorious specimen of steadiness and determination. She spies her goal and will not stop pushing forward until she has attained it. Something I felt greatly lacking in while watching her cross that stage.
I was three classes away from my bachelor's degree when I moved to Arizona in 2005. My original thought was to finish the classes through ASU and be done with my degree....but life happened and distracted me. After several months of adjusting to nights/weekends shift work I became unsettled in my position at work and chose to become a police officer. Four and a half, of the hardest and most awesome training I have ever been through, later I graduated and began my career. Then I had training to complete, then adjusting to police work dominated my life, then I became a trainer....somehow there was never the right time to sign up for the classes I needed. Finally, about four years after moving to Arizona, I determined to do what was needed and get my classes done....but ASU requires a long and rather tedious process before accepting out of state credit hours. I felt I had hit a wall and determined within myself that I had a solid job I enjoyed and was good at, why did I need that degree anyway? Move on Laura! So I did, I thought, I let that dream die away and focused on doing my job to the best of my ability.
That spring day last year I felt the dearth my decision had left me with, I felt it inside the core of my being. What could I possibly do about it now I thought. It's too late, you should let it go. But I felt a still small voice saying, "Why don't you call your old school. Maybe they have classes online you can take?" I pushed the thought away as ridiculous, but it danced around in the corners of my mind a strange moth-like creature refusing to be ignored. Finally, I gave in. On a hot summer morning after my daily prayers when the thought was so persistent it became a palpable being sitting next to me and invading every moment with its incessant what if's I defiantly looked up the number to my old school. What followed was a series of calls and what appeared to be innumerable dead ends. I knelt on the hot stone of a quiet patio and prayed. "Lord, if this thought is from you. If somehow you have a plan that I will need this degree for. If it will bring glory to your name, please help me talk with the right person. Please help it be possible for me to finish the degree even if it takes some time and money, just point me in the right direction and make it possible."
I dialed one more number in my endless list and hit a possible lead. The girl on the other end of the line did not have the answer I needed, however she did have a phone number for the director of the Modern Languages department (my degree program was in Spanish). If, she told me doubtfully, there was anyone who could help me it would be him. I whispered one more prayer and dialed the number....it went to voicemail. After leaving what I am sure was a rambling and semi incoherent message I felt at peace for the first time since that pesky thought had pushed it's way into the recesses of my mind. I had done my best and did not expect great results, but maybe something good would come of it. Several hours later I got a call back from the director. I explained to him my situation and what I was hoping to accomplish. He did not sound hopeful as he promised to look up my case and get back to me when he could. I decided the entire thing was probably said and done with and settled within my mind to patiently wait for the response I was sure would be a solid no.
That next morning during prayers I recited my prayer from the previous day. I had asked two close friends to also pray that the Lord's will would be done and I would be okay with whatever He decided. As I finished my prayers and started my day the telephone rang. It was the director calling, "Laura I have some good news." his voice boomed with joy over the receiver, "I have looked over your case and am happy to tell you that you are eligible for graduation." My mind went numb....surely I did not just hear him say the words he said. "I'm sorry, what did you say.", I asked incredulously. He laughed and gleefully responded, "We just changed our degree requirements and no longer require a major/minor focus but only credit hours. You have more than enough credit hours to graduate. You could graduate in August if you got all the requirements done." It was all I could do not to scream into the phone with joy. I leapt around the house needing somehow to express the thrill that coursed through my body crashing against my consciousness in devastating waves of happiness. "I don't understand, I'm done. How is that possible?", the good doctor calmly assured me that it was indeed very real and possible, while I would have a final test to take and would have to complete one class online to renew my catalog year I was as done as the rains in the Sahara. Then he said the words that humbled me to my core, "If you had called even a week ago there would not have been much I could have done for you. You called at just the perfect time when we had voted on the new program and it has just officially been approved."
All at once the realization of just how the Lord had orchestrated everything hit me and knocked the wind out of my sails. It was all I could do to keep myself together and get off the phone so that I could collapse on my knees in thank you's. How perfect is the Lord and His never ending goodness to me? He knew, how long ago did He know and plan just the perfect moment to wake in me the desire to complete my degree? Even now in writing this I am overcome at His awesome power and his grace to me. I cried for I do not know how long, thanking Him for not forgetting me, for upholding His promises even when I had forgotten them. For renewing a right heart in me that I would be ready to receive His wondrous and abundant gifts. All I could think was....filled to overflowing, my joy is filled to overflowing.
On May 5th of this year, one year later. I graduated from the University of Central Missouri. It's not an amazing feat of any gift or talent that I have. It is all wholly and purely a gift and plan from the Lord. I can take no credit, for it all came from His hand to me. I am in awe and I am in expectation, waiting to see what He would have me do with this great blessing. For where He leads me I will follow....amen.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
A Little Girl of My Own
This last Thursday I was in the store with my Allie Bear (age 5) shopping for her brother's birthday present. As we were checking out Allison looked up at me with her serious face and said, "Laura do you love me and buy me presents sometimes because you don't have a little girl of your own to love?". I immediately fought the urge to curl on the floor and cry and to smack her sweet little mouth for asking the one question I had never thought to consider. Instead, knowing she was needing reassurance of my love for her I smiled and said, "No sweetie, I just love you because you are you." Inside my heart was breaking into small pieces as I asked myself, was she right? Was I just loving her out of my desire to love my own child? Do I do that with all the children I love so much? Are they just placeholders in my heart filling voids that may never otherwise be filled?
It is not an easy question to ask oneself. The vast majority of people quickly fall into relationships that, while sadly do not always become lifelong, typically result in the creation of a child to love and raise. For those of us who's life stories do not follow the norm it is easier to ignore the question of fulfillment than to stare it in the face. I may be, for the most part, content to live without a mate but to live my life never having a child to raise....that seems an unnecessarily unfair twist of fate. And yet, for the time being it is my reality.
Growing up my mother always told me life is not fair and it is not my job to 'sift the ifs' in life. So, I accept what is right now and chose to find joy in loving those around me instead of thinking of what could be or what might have been. But those five year old brown eyes keep staring at me wondering just why I care for her so much, and that reason can only be given through telling you the story of my Allie Bear.
The first time I looked into those brown eyes I was holding a small and premature little newborn. Her mother (my sister from another mister) had gone through a rough pregnancy and birth in which the safety of her and Allison were both in question. But there she was in my arms wailing like nobody's business and Amy (rather exhausted but safe) was lying in the hospital bed next to my chair. As Amy talked with the others in the room I looked into Allison's eyes while she screamed at me and I said, "You don't know me right now sweetie but I am your Laura and someday you and I are going to be best friends, you'll see." I looked at the fuzzy dark brown hair on her perfect head, chest and arms and I thought of a little bear cub. I told her, "I will call you Allie Bear"
Several months after Allie was born Amy became quite ill. The doctor's didn't know what was going on and several specialists all came up with no reason for her condition. She displayed symptoms similar to Lymphoma and was nearly completely bedridden. We were of course all worried and scrambling to help out her, her husband and their three children. Her husband ran out of sick time at work and since my weekend coincided perfectly with his work week I became a semi permanent fixture in their lives. Allison was still quite little and her two brothers were both under 6. Most days I would come by in the early afternoon before Amy's husband left for work and would be there till he got home late at night. I will not lie, it was terrifying. How do you give complete care to three children while still stressing their mother's involvement in their lives and day to day decisions? I prayed constantly for the wisdom and strength to be what they needed without taking anything away from their mother's rightful place. I would like to think and do hope that the Lord answered those prayers. Amy, thankfully recovered and my involvement in their day to day lives healthily diminished, but I believe I will always have a special place in my heart for those dear children because of it.
During the dark months (those months when we did not know what was wrong or if Amy would be okay) I had my first battle of wills with Allison. I was holding Allie and getting ready to start supper when all at once she grabbed my glasses off my face. I put them back on and she quickly grabbed for them a second time. I stopped her and held her hand in mine saying, "Allison don't touch my glasses. If you grab them again I will smack your hand." I then let go of her hand which she pulled back toward her body. She then scrunched up her face looking at me, away, then back at me with a furrowed brow. I said, "No Allison, don't do it." at that same moment she flung her hand forward ripping my glasses from my face and throwing them on the floor. For a second I was stunned. Did I seriously just watch a child under a year old openly defy me?! Then I did what I had to do and said, "Allison I told you no. Now I have to smack your hand." I then gave her hand what was possibly the lightest smack in all of history, but she wailed like a banshee. She has not openly defied me since.
What do all of these meandering thoughts have to do with her question to me? The way I see it is this: God gave us this amazing ability to love. The limit to how much or little we love in life is determined by ourselves. The more we chose to love the greater our capacity to love becomes.
So Allie Bear (as well as any of the kiddos I love and claim), if you ever want the complete answer to your question it is this. I love you because you are fearfully and wonderfully made by God and have been placed in my life as a gift from Him. I don't love you because I am without a little girl of my own to love. I love you because through loving you I will be ready to love her even more when I meet her. I love you because loving you makes me an even better mom for her someday. I love you because one day when you give your little girl a speech about how life isn't always fair, the tiniest little piece of my mother will be talking to her through you. And that thought is pretty amazing.
It is not an easy question to ask oneself. The vast majority of people quickly fall into relationships that, while sadly do not always become lifelong, typically result in the creation of a child to love and raise. For those of us who's life stories do not follow the norm it is easier to ignore the question of fulfillment than to stare it in the face. I may be, for the most part, content to live without a mate but to live my life never having a child to raise....that seems an unnecessarily unfair twist of fate. And yet, for the time being it is my reality.
Growing up my mother always told me life is not fair and it is not my job to 'sift the ifs' in life. So, I accept what is right now and chose to find joy in loving those around me instead of thinking of what could be or what might have been. But those five year old brown eyes keep staring at me wondering just why I care for her so much, and that reason can only be given through telling you the story of my Allie Bear.
The first time I looked into those brown eyes I was holding a small and premature little newborn. Her mother (my sister from another mister) had gone through a rough pregnancy and birth in which the safety of her and Allison were both in question. But there she was in my arms wailing like nobody's business and Amy (rather exhausted but safe) was lying in the hospital bed next to my chair. As Amy talked with the others in the room I looked into Allison's eyes while she screamed at me and I said, "You don't know me right now sweetie but I am your Laura and someday you and I are going to be best friends, you'll see." I looked at the fuzzy dark brown hair on her perfect head, chest and arms and I thought of a little bear cub. I told her, "I will call you Allie Bear"
Several months after Allie was born Amy became quite ill. The doctor's didn't know what was going on and several specialists all came up with no reason for her condition. She displayed symptoms similar to Lymphoma and was nearly completely bedridden. We were of course all worried and scrambling to help out her, her husband and their three children. Her husband ran out of sick time at work and since my weekend coincided perfectly with his work week I became a semi permanent fixture in their lives. Allison was still quite little and her two brothers were both under 6. Most days I would come by in the early afternoon before Amy's husband left for work and would be there till he got home late at night. I will not lie, it was terrifying. How do you give complete care to three children while still stressing their mother's involvement in their lives and day to day decisions? I prayed constantly for the wisdom and strength to be what they needed without taking anything away from their mother's rightful place. I would like to think and do hope that the Lord answered those prayers. Amy, thankfully recovered and my involvement in their day to day lives healthily diminished, but I believe I will always have a special place in my heart for those dear children because of it.
During the dark months (those months when we did not know what was wrong or if Amy would be okay) I had my first battle of wills with Allison. I was holding Allie and getting ready to start supper when all at once she grabbed my glasses off my face. I put them back on and she quickly grabbed for them a second time. I stopped her and held her hand in mine saying, "Allison don't touch my glasses. If you grab them again I will smack your hand." I then let go of her hand which she pulled back toward her body. She then scrunched up her face looking at me, away, then back at me with a furrowed brow. I said, "No Allison, don't do it." at that same moment she flung her hand forward ripping my glasses from my face and throwing them on the floor. For a second I was stunned. Did I seriously just watch a child under a year old openly defy me?! Then I did what I had to do and said, "Allison I told you no. Now I have to smack your hand." I then gave her hand what was possibly the lightest smack in all of history, but she wailed like a banshee. She has not openly defied me since.
What do all of these meandering thoughts have to do with her question to me? The way I see it is this: God gave us this amazing ability to love. The limit to how much or little we love in life is determined by ourselves. The more we chose to love the greater our capacity to love becomes.
So Allie Bear (as well as any of the kiddos I love and claim), if you ever want the complete answer to your question it is this. I love you because you are fearfully and wonderfully made by God and have been placed in my life as a gift from Him. I don't love you because I am without a little girl of my own to love. I love you because through loving you I will be ready to love her even more when I meet her. I love you because loving you makes me an even better mom for her someday. I love you because one day when you give your little girl a speech about how life isn't always fair, the tiniest little piece of my mother will be talking to her through you. And that thought is pretty amazing.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
On Love and a Broken Heart
Have you ever found yourself with a broken heart? Traced the edges of your wound over and over even though each pass of it's lines with your memory make it bleed ever more painfully? How long do you keep the would fresh, breaking it open every time you begin to forget; just to keep the memory of that relationship close to you because somewhere in your mind you are afraid if it ever heals they will be gone for good? How many times do you promise yourself you are done with love because the pain is not worth the loving?
I love my broken heart. In my mind I hold it up in the light of my memory and carefully trace each scar. Some are small and faint, others longer or darker in color depending on the size of the hurt incurred. One is fresh and still raw, it is the largest of them all. It is healed, but it's tissue is thin and still bruised along the edges. Of all the scars this is my favorite, because this one crosses the entire heart separating it in two. It is the deepest and of all has hurt the most. It is the one that taught me to be thankful for the other scars I had previously been ashamed of.
I am not someone who gives my heart away very easily. If you are over the age of thirteen it takes quite a while to earn my trust and quite a bit more to be given free reign with my heart. That being said, when I do give over my heart it is completely, no holds barred.
Well, a few years back I began a relationship and chose to give 100%. This was unprecedented as I have never given all of my heart in a dating relationship before and to do so without knowing for sure where the other person stood was not something I had ever been willing to do. I was terrified. What if I gambled big and gambled on the wrong person? How would I ever be able to take that chance again? Long story short, we are not together anymore, I gave all of my heart and wound up with it back in my hands in two pieces. For the last year and a half I have been standing there holding that heart and tracing the lines of my wound. Driving myself numb with the pain of it.
What if I had said or done something different? What if I were thinner would he have stayed? What if I were less serious of a person, more fun and engaging? What if my hair were different? If I were better, more kind, more understanding? I racked my mind thinking of things I could have said or done that would have made a difference, but there was no answer. Just a dark cloud that hung over my head raining down doubts and concerns. If he didn't want me would anyone? What's the point of dressing up, who would I dress up for? Why go out, I won't meet anyone and if I did why would they be interested in me anyway? I just need to work on me because there must be something wrong.
The crazy thing is I didn't even realize what I was doing to myself. That I was shutting myself off from happiness so that I could bemoan one relationship in my life. ONE......how many people do I know and love?! And I ignored all of that joy over ONE man.
My slow return to the sunlight began in September of last year. I decided to start writing this blog and focus on the things I love to do for ME. What I have been finding is that I love most to use my heart and love those around me. But I was still nursing that wound.....so it had to go. When you are holding your heart in pieces you only have two options. Keep it broken to remember and protect yourself from using it in the future or recognize that, being the strongest muscle in your body, when muscles repair they become larger and stronger allowing you to love even better than before. Since loving makes me happy my only option was to allow my wounds to heal over completely so that I can love bigger and stronger than ever.
It has been a four month process and it is not entirely over. But with every beat I feel the strength and joy of light and love coursing through me again and it is a beautiful feeling! I wake up in the morning with a smile on my face and cannot wait to see what the day will bring. Sometimes I am so happy I feel like I could fly.
These days when I consider my heart and see it's scarred surface I am glad for the jagged lines. Not glad for the pain incurred or the many bad decisions on mine or the other parties side, but glad for the lessons learned in the process. Thankful that in loving comes healing and strength. My scars make my life and my heart unique. A heart without scars is a heart that has not loved, therefore to me the loving will always be worth the pain.
I love my broken heart. In my mind I hold it up in the light of my memory and carefully trace each scar. Some are small and faint, others longer or darker in color depending on the size of the hurt incurred. One is fresh and still raw, it is the largest of them all. It is healed, but it's tissue is thin and still bruised along the edges. Of all the scars this is my favorite, because this one crosses the entire heart separating it in two. It is the deepest and of all has hurt the most. It is the one that taught me to be thankful for the other scars I had previously been ashamed of.
I am not someone who gives my heart away very easily. If you are over the age of thirteen it takes quite a while to earn my trust and quite a bit more to be given free reign with my heart. That being said, when I do give over my heart it is completely, no holds barred.
Well, a few years back I began a relationship and chose to give 100%. This was unprecedented as I have never given all of my heart in a dating relationship before and to do so without knowing for sure where the other person stood was not something I had ever been willing to do. I was terrified. What if I gambled big and gambled on the wrong person? How would I ever be able to take that chance again? Long story short, we are not together anymore, I gave all of my heart and wound up with it back in my hands in two pieces. For the last year and a half I have been standing there holding that heart and tracing the lines of my wound. Driving myself numb with the pain of it.
What if I had said or done something different? What if I were thinner would he have stayed? What if I were less serious of a person, more fun and engaging? What if my hair were different? If I were better, more kind, more understanding? I racked my mind thinking of things I could have said or done that would have made a difference, but there was no answer. Just a dark cloud that hung over my head raining down doubts and concerns. If he didn't want me would anyone? What's the point of dressing up, who would I dress up for? Why go out, I won't meet anyone and if I did why would they be interested in me anyway? I just need to work on me because there must be something wrong.
The crazy thing is I didn't even realize what I was doing to myself. That I was shutting myself off from happiness so that I could bemoan one relationship in my life. ONE......how many people do I know and love?! And I ignored all of that joy over ONE man.
My slow return to the sunlight began in September of last year. I decided to start writing this blog and focus on the things I love to do for ME. What I have been finding is that I love most to use my heart and love those around me. But I was still nursing that wound.....so it had to go. When you are holding your heart in pieces you only have two options. Keep it broken to remember and protect yourself from using it in the future or recognize that, being the strongest muscle in your body, when muscles repair they become larger and stronger allowing you to love even better than before. Since loving makes me happy my only option was to allow my wounds to heal over completely so that I can love bigger and stronger than ever.
It has been a four month process and it is not entirely over. But with every beat I feel the strength and joy of light and love coursing through me again and it is a beautiful feeling! I wake up in the morning with a smile on my face and cannot wait to see what the day will bring. Sometimes I am so happy I feel like I could fly.
These days when I consider my heart and see it's scarred surface I am glad for the jagged lines. Not glad for the pain incurred or the many bad decisions on mine or the other parties side, but glad for the lessons learned in the process. Thankful that in loving comes healing and strength. My scars make my life and my heart unique. A heart without scars is a heart that has not loved, therefore to me the loving will always be worth the pain.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
The Day I Found My Best Friend
When I was young I knew a girl who was unbelievable. She was always laughing and dancing around, singing songs and writing little poems. I remember how fun it was to be with her and how amazing it was to see the world through her eyes. The simplest things were magical and full of wonder. A lilac bush would somehow become a shadowy castle and we would become princesses hiding from a mighty dragon waiting to pounce. Walks through the pasture were an adventurous trek through the Saharan plain with lions stalking us just beyond the edge of the grass. I mostly remember how completely and fiercely she loved everyone around her. As if she was just waiting for a chance to show you how precious you were to her. She was my best friend.
Life is funny, the people you once held dear grow and change as quickly as you do. Even the ones you never want to lose track of somehow get lost in the shuffle. As the years went by and we both grew I did just that, I lost touch with my best friend and found new friends to take her place. Sure there were times I missed her, wondered how she was doing or what had become of her. But when you lose touch as a child it's much more difficult to find someone again. As the years passed I came to terms with the fact that the impressions made on my life would have to suffice because we would never be able to find one another again. For all I knew she was out there somewhere actually stalking lions on the plains of Africa. I hoped she was.
I have a friend now who tells me rather frequently that I 'think too much', I need to let go of my lovely illusion of control and go for what I am afraid to do. I know he is right, but being the opposite of my dear childhood friend, I find the idea of not 'thinking something through' makes me slightly nauseous. What if I just step off of the edge of a dream and fall into an oblivion? Wouldn't it have been better never to know the feeling of flight than to die in a twisted heap at the bottom of a cavern? But there is the memory of a dreamer I once knew and her memory tells me he is right. I need to start letting go. I will never see my full potential until I can take chances, regardless of what the outcome may be.
Thursday while I was on a run through the neighborhood I was pondering all this and realized I even think too much about how I run. I always hold back just enough strength in case I get too tired. It slows me, but I consider it a fair trade because then I can plan out my energy expenditure to get me through the run with little or no problem. As I ran it hit me, "It's not my body that holds me back, it's all my thinking!" What if I just run as hard as I can for as long as possible without thinking about it? Thankfully at that moment a quick paced song began playing on my ipod and without giving myself time to think I kicked my body into full gear.
It was only about two blocks to my house and I was at the end of my run, but as I rounded the corner I realized I had so much more energy than I thought I could have. My body did not want to stop moving. I was so elated I began a strange dance/run as I passed my neighbors' house. I saw my neighbor sitting in her vehicle as I passed and for a split second thought, "Oh no, you had better stop or she will see you. What if someone else sees." I slowed for a moment but was hit with the longing to just move regardless. For about three minutes I stood in the street dancing for all I was worth, refusing to look up or think of who might see. I danced and sang until I began to laugh out loud with joy...and that is when it happened.
Somehow in the middle of my random gyrations I found her again. My dearest best friend from so long ago. The smile on her face was radiant as she danced around with me in the mid afternoon sun. As the rhythmic beat of a bollywood tune played on we were inside the Taj Mahal at a banquet dancing for royals. In that moment the years faded away and we were as always together, two pieces of the same puzzle. She was, as ever, the best part of who I am. Why all these years have I hidden her from the world? What if I always held her close and told her she was precious and could do anything she set her mind to? What force on this earth could stop us then?
The song ended and I knew my moment was over, but as I started toward my front door I imagined grabbing her still childlike hand in mine and walking into the future together. This time I will not hold her back or leave her behind. After all, everyone needs the best part of them to come out and dance now and again.
Life is funny, the people you once held dear grow and change as quickly as you do. Even the ones you never want to lose track of somehow get lost in the shuffle. As the years went by and we both grew I did just that, I lost touch with my best friend and found new friends to take her place. Sure there were times I missed her, wondered how she was doing or what had become of her. But when you lose touch as a child it's much more difficult to find someone again. As the years passed I came to terms with the fact that the impressions made on my life would have to suffice because we would never be able to find one another again. For all I knew she was out there somewhere actually stalking lions on the plains of Africa. I hoped she was.
I have a friend now who tells me rather frequently that I 'think too much', I need to let go of my lovely illusion of control and go for what I am afraid to do. I know he is right, but being the opposite of my dear childhood friend, I find the idea of not 'thinking something through' makes me slightly nauseous. What if I just step off of the edge of a dream and fall into an oblivion? Wouldn't it have been better never to know the feeling of flight than to die in a twisted heap at the bottom of a cavern? But there is the memory of a dreamer I once knew and her memory tells me he is right. I need to start letting go. I will never see my full potential until I can take chances, regardless of what the outcome may be.
Thursday while I was on a run through the neighborhood I was pondering all this and realized I even think too much about how I run. I always hold back just enough strength in case I get too tired. It slows me, but I consider it a fair trade because then I can plan out my energy expenditure to get me through the run with little or no problem. As I ran it hit me, "It's not my body that holds me back, it's all my thinking!" What if I just run as hard as I can for as long as possible without thinking about it? Thankfully at that moment a quick paced song began playing on my ipod and without giving myself time to think I kicked my body into full gear.
It was only about two blocks to my house and I was at the end of my run, but as I rounded the corner I realized I had so much more energy than I thought I could have. My body did not want to stop moving. I was so elated I began a strange dance/run as I passed my neighbors' house. I saw my neighbor sitting in her vehicle as I passed and for a split second thought, "Oh no, you had better stop or she will see you. What if someone else sees." I slowed for a moment but was hit with the longing to just move regardless. For about three minutes I stood in the street dancing for all I was worth, refusing to look up or think of who might see. I danced and sang until I began to laugh out loud with joy...and that is when it happened.
Somehow in the middle of my random gyrations I found her again. My dearest best friend from so long ago. The smile on her face was radiant as she danced around with me in the mid afternoon sun. As the rhythmic beat of a bollywood tune played on we were inside the Taj Mahal at a banquet dancing for royals. In that moment the years faded away and we were as always together, two pieces of the same puzzle. She was, as ever, the best part of who I am. Why all these years have I hidden her from the world? What if I always held her close and told her she was precious and could do anything she set her mind to? What force on this earth could stop us then?
The song ended and I knew my moment was over, but as I started toward my front door I imagined grabbing her still childlike hand in mine and walking into the future together. This time I will not hold her back or leave her behind. After all, everyone needs the best part of them to come out and dance now and again.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
In the Stillness of Morning
I love early mornings, no love is not strong enough of a word, I adore them. The feeling of quiet peace and joy that overwhelms me when I watch the world wake up is more than I can put into words. Not all mornings are equal. Some are more perfect than others, this morning was a more perfect one. Let me set the scene for you...
It's about 6:30 and the sky is dark. The air is cool, but clouds moved in overnight trapping the dissipating heat of the desert so that there is no biting wind as I ride my bike across campus. While I pedal I am struck with the silence of deserted walkways and buildings. The only sounds I hear are the clicking of my pedals and the constant swish of my bike pants. It is early enough that only the most brave or ludicrous staff members are making their presence known. As I ride the light in the sky changes lazily from cobalt to indigo then navy blue with the edges lined in copper. I can't decide what to watch, the black birds flying silently against a stunning sunrise or the ever swelling light that plays against sandstone and brick buildings bringing out a shy blush from beneath their hard facade. All the while I hear the quiet click clicking of my pedals, like rhythmic waves against the shoreline of my ears. It is as though I can feel the earth shrug off it's blanket and rise for the day. I stop for a moment to soak in the sights and sounds of the day's quiet arousal, as I do I am struck with the knowledge that this is the one moment of my day when the world is perfect. All things are right and my heart is at rest.
Waking from my momentary stupor I see there are several people milling about now, on their way to work or school. A part of me is sad to move forward into the mania that is sure to come, but I am full of hope and joy for what the day will bring. For I know it's secrets. I have stopped and watched the day rise from it's slumber and shake off the encumbering dew of night. I have seen it's beauty and promise in the stillness of morning.
It's about 6:30 and the sky is dark. The air is cool, but clouds moved in overnight trapping the dissipating heat of the desert so that there is no biting wind as I ride my bike across campus. While I pedal I am struck with the silence of deserted walkways and buildings. The only sounds I hear are the clicking of my pedals and the constant swish of my bike pants. It is early enough that only the most brave or ludicrous staff members are making their presence known. As I ride the light in the sky changes lazily from cobalt to indigo then navy blue with the edges lined in copper. I can't decide what to watch, the black birds flying silently against a stunning sunrise or the ever swelling light that plays against sandstone and brick buildings bringing out a shy blush from beneath their hard facade. All the while I hear the quiet click clicking of my pedals, like rhythmic waves against the shoreline of my ears. It is as though I can feel the earth shrug off it's blanket and rise for the day. I stop for a moment to soak in the sights and sounds of the day's quiet arousal, as I do I am struck with the knowledge that this is the one moment of my day when the world is perfect. All things are right and my heart is at rest.
Waking from my momentary stupor I see there are several people milling about now, on their way to work or school. A part of me is sad to move forward into the mania that is sure to come, but I am full of hope and joy for what the day will bring. For I know it's secrets. I have stopped and watched the day rise from it's slumber and shake off the encumbering dew of night. I have seen it's beauty and promise in the stillness of morning.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Interactions
It has been said, a single pebble dropped into a still pond will change its entire surface.
I ruminated over that...
I stood looking at the pond. Watched the suns reflected light outline the trees at waters edge.
A single stone lifted above that crystal face.
I saw an arm mirrored perfectly there, and watched as fingers slowly opened.
One sound...stone meeting water.
The light moved in resounding waves as an earthquake shook the trees, first violently then slowly as if dancing a waltz.
Beneath the glass like facade, in depths I could not see, the stone plunged further still.
Then settling at last on the bottom, it sent up an echoing wash of mud and silt.
The arm moved back to my side and stillness returned.
I walked away, the pond remained.
Both appeared to be the same, both it and me....forever changed.
I ruminated over that...
I stood looking at the pond. Watched the suns reflected light outline the trees at waters edge.
A single stone lifted above that crystal face.
I saw an arm mirrored perfectly there, and watched as fingers slowly opened.
One sound...stone meeting water.
The light moved in resounding waves as an earthquake shook the trees, first violently then slowly as if dancing a waltz.
Beneath the glass like facade, in depths I could not see, the stone plunged further still.
Then settling at last on the bottom, it sent up an echoing wash of mud and silt.
The arm moved back to my side and stillness returned.
I walked away, the pond remained.
Both appeared to be the same, both it and me....forever changed.
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