Timing is everything.

Hope. That’s what this is. I’d forgotten. Or at least, I’d forgotten the pleasant side of it. This last month, being out of touch, I have been discovering hope again… in the strangest of ways.

I suppose it had been building for a while, leading me to this place of feeling again. Then I had a couple weeks where suddenly I was feeling all the pain of the traumas of the last five years – all at once. It was nearly unbearable, but I knew that if I could feel this pain, if I could find a way to walk along with it, then I could again feel love and have passion and find… hope. I just didn’t want to be numb anymore, but until then didn’t have the tools – the pain and heartbreak – to be free of the anesthesia.

The thing about pain is that without feeling it we can’t feel anything. Not really. Certainly not deeply. Overwhelmed, I had flipped that switch to “off” in order to deal with the fallout of various extreme situations that I was bombarded with in rapid succession. However, by the time I wanted it turned on, I couldn’t reach it. I was so far from it wandering in that darkness, I couldn't even see it.

When I then all these years later unexpectedly backed into it, I was blinded by the light. It was incapacitating to experience so much emotional pain all at once. Now my heart has adjusted. (I’m so grateful.) And I find I have passion again… so much of it! Yet, now it it tempered with wisdom and experience, so it is a fuller and a more beautiful sort of passion.

I’m not saying everything’s perfect, and frankly I hope I never will say so – how boring that would be! I am saying I feel [internally] prepared for what may come. More, I am moving toward it with anticipation while still endeavoring to be present even in these duller moments.

As this hope builds, and more specifically as I complete my few remaining (time consuming) projects, I will be much more consistent with my blog entries… and I would imagine they will be getting more interesting as I enter into the flow of, well, my destiny.

Here’s hoping…

The separation.

Someone told me today how courageous I am. I had never thought of my decisions and actions recently as courageous until they said that.

I am a journeyer. In that, I see things differently than most. So, in the course of my experiencing God from the Christian perspective I was raised in and personally embraced, I continued the journey and found myself experiencing God beyond the limited ways and practices that are the habits of the church.

This is an amazing and exciting path. However, it is also very lonely. You see, in embracing the Sacred Mystery (God with open eyes) I effectively broke my deep bonds with the community I have always been a part of as well as with my entire family. So suddenly instead of walking alone but still solidly belonging, I walk alone because I am alone.

This is where courage was seen. In this act. It is not easy to be so disconnected. I am a person who thrives on and craves connections. It is so deeply ingrained in my being that it feels like it’s what I’m made for – to connect with others. The growth and understanding that comes from this is rich and true, but the love that exists in that acceptance is magnificent.

I seek connections where I can, but just right now, with the exception of a few (amazing) online girlfriends, I am so very alone. There is no going back now that I’ve reached higher and farther in faith than a box of religion will allow, but do I have the strength within me to continue to be courageous… and alone?

Have my cake & eat it, too.

After (hilariously) making yet another list of books last week here on the blog, I dove in. It was like I suddenly gave myself permission to eat dessert first.

I’m not good at that. I come from a family of good Christian Midwestern farmers of mostly Danish stock. What that adds up to is the idea that life is toil and hardship – you work very hard and maybe at the end of the day if you have any energy left, you can do something you enjoy… although even if you do, you never have idle hands! Honestly, it’s slightly psychotic, or rather masochistic. Or a bit of both.

Ingrained in my brain is the story of how my grandfather said he became a success. It was the hour before dawn and hour after dusk that he worked in the fields when everyone else was sleeping or being with family when he made his money. The rest of the time was what barely allowed them to scrape by. And he did become a success, owning several farms, apartment complexes, and more. In fact, the people at the apartments thought he was the janitor because even into his seventies he’d always be the one to do all the work when things went wrong. That’s how I remember him… with that giant ring of keys, which weighed about as much as I did back then, in work gear heading out to one or the other of his sites again.

So when I was in college, I decided to study art. But my parents made it clear I needed an “academic” major as well. I obediently obliged them. The thing is, I would end up spending all my time on classes that were tedious rather than investing some of that time in my major classes because, well, I loved doing art. Classes I would have aced I struggled with at times as a result. And now I deeply regret not taking full advantage of the facilities the art department had because once I graduated (and had the time) I no longer had access.

This disposition carried over into my finding a job/career. I’d pursue things I was interested in, but never anything that brought me bliss. Mustn’t enjoy what I do, not deep down. That was somehow wrong. So my varied professions gave me great and diverse experiences (oh my goodness – the stories!), but not real joy. There was no true satisfaction that what I was doing was something to which I felt any sort of “calling.” Therefore, I’d work extremely hard, get very good at it, then get bored. There was no passion behind it. So I moved on.

This mentality I was brought up in (toil and suffering first, pleasure last), instead of helping me progress has held me back. Not just from reading the books I’m most looking forward to, but from doing the things I’m most passionate about. From living a joy-filled, complete life.

It’s a hard thing to break out of. Truly. I’ve known about this for quite a few years, and have attempted to extricate myself from it. But it’s so pervasive in all areas of my life. Obviously it’s worth the effort. And, too, this extreme pairing down I’m doing with my “stuff” invades my being enough that I’m stripping down and purging some of the non-productive internal processes and ways of thinking and being as well. But I do wish I could simply relax and enjoy without feeling antsy, guilty, or frustrated.

When it comes to the books I have, the permission I gave myself was to read exactly what I want… not to feel the need to have read books I feel are “important” but for which I know I will honestly hate reading. Those classics that show only the depravity of life, for instance, really needn’t be read – not by me. I, quite obviously, understand the hardships life can bring; the difficulties from which some souls never climb out. I chose to dwell on and read about those who perhaps struggle, but who find a level of grace they never expected.

In that revolutionary act of permission-giving, I find I again desire to read some of the books that felt rather obligatory only days before. Perhaps in the same way when I break out of this “toil” mentality, I can find a deep joy in the very things that wore on my soul previously. I hope so. I love dessert.

The place of pondering.

I sit here on a lovely rainy day pondering. I think that’s one reason I love rain so much – the sound is restful and somehow rejuvenating and in that it gives my mind time and space to consider without the usual stresses. Well, that can happen so long as I don’t run headlong into my day, at least.

What came to mind as I listened to the trickling of the water in the drainpipes, the drops touching down on various surfaces, the swish of the distant cars as the fresh puddles shoot out from below their tires, was the Way of the Tao.

Isn’t it interesting how sometimes you pick up books at random, in a moment you want something different than what you’re in the middle of for instance, and in the end they all seem to relate? One night recently, on a whim, I picked up the tiny tome call What Is Tao? by Alan Watts. Concise as it is, it manages to effectively convey the essentials of the Tao. Having finished that, I grabbed The Tao of Pooh and now and then delved into this easy read.

The thing that most effects me about the Way of the Tao is that it is in the rhythms of nature. It isn’t the worship of nature, but is a kind of respect for nature that we whom have grown up in Western cultures can’t truly understand immediately. This is because in the Eastern cultures they don’t see human beings as standing apart or dominating over nature, but as an integral part of it, fitting right in to it. From a Western perspective, this is revolutionary.

When I started reading these two books, I was already making my way through John Muir’s My First Summer in the Sierra and No Impact Man by Colin Beavan. John Muir was a devout Christian, yet he saw the hand of the divine in nature. When speaking of poison oak and poison ivy he said, “Like most other things not apparently useful to man, it has few friends, and the blind question, ‘Why was it made?’ goes on and on with never a guess that first of all it might have been made for itself.” John Muir may never have know about the Tao, but he understood it.

In No Impact Man, Mr. Beavan talks about the day that he and his family had planned on walking across the bridge from Manhattan to go to a birthday party, but when the day came it wasn’t just raining, it was a torrential downpour. So instead, they stayed home and relaxed and just spent time together. No rushing off in a cab to do the 101 things that we all pack into our “time off” because they were on the journey of a year without making a negative impact on the environment. That day more than any other he felt how the rhythms of nature, even in the middle of one of the busiest cities in the world, is within each of us. He noticed how when we pay attention to these things, when we move within them, we are happier and more connected to the people around us, not just nature.

One of my favorite stories so far from No Impact Man was how on another day when it was raining, he was walking somewhere or other with his daughter on his shoulders. Feeling guilty that because of his choice to do this no impact challenge his daughter was having to be out in this weather. He was trying to hold the umbrella so that she would not get wet, but she was crying. Then a gust of wind blew the umbrella over and rain poured on both of them, and his daughter stopped crying. After he righted the umbrella she started crying again. After a couple of times of this he realized that she’s not crying because she was getting wet, rather she was crying because the umbrella is stopping her from getting wet. In his words, here’s his realization in that moment:

“And on this rainy day, here is what happens when I treat my body as something more than a means to transport my head, when I finally learn to treat the landscape as something more than the space that stands between where I am now and where I want to be later:

I take Isabella down from my shoulders and let her jump in a puddle, soaking her shoes and her pants. For fun, I jump in the puddle, too. Isabella laughs. She stretches out her arms with her palms facing up to catch the rain. She opens her mouth, sticks her tongue out and leans her head back. I try it, too.

When did the child in me disappear?

People are running past. They look desperate, miserable, trying to get out of the rain. What has happened to us?”

I think I’ve always kept the child in me, splashing in puddles and loving playing in the rain, for instance. But also, I am a person of the journey, appreciating the path often more than the destination. Also, I have often felt that there is no place better to find the divine than in nature. To connect with the Way of the Tao has for me been more of an understanding of how I relate naturally as well as how I move through the journey.

Reading the Tao Te Ching, the main source of understanding the Tao, is an interesting process this time around. It is causing me to question my ambition. But it is also giving me permission to find rest and contentment in this time of intense struggle with my situation and my lack.

In sharing this, I’m not saying I’ve converted to some new faith, but rather that I feel knowing about the Tao enhances and deepens the faith I have. It gives me a mind for the whole rather than a part. I see creation, not simply man, when exercising my faith. I have always had an affinity for this way, but until it was explained to me I accepted the idea of man’s domination, if uncomfortably.

I think when I started to see the world in this ancient way, I also understood how much less I need in order to feel the fullness of joy. If you know me or have been reading here for a bit, you know that I’m a purger, trying to keep myself free of so much stuff that weighs us down. But isn’t it so much a better idea to simply not collect these things so that there is no need to purge? I’m not saying strive to be an ascetic and live in deprivation, but more to be thoughtful in what you buy. To have less stuff is to have more time because you needn’t work so much to get it and you have less to clean and sort and put away. Not a bad trade.

I look forward to exploring the Way of the Tao more. I look forward to feeling the rain on my tongue and appreciating the wind on my face. I look forward to being fully present and having the time to connect wholly with those around me. I look forward, but only in that I am completely engaged now so I know whatever comes I will be the same then – engaged and ready.

The dream and me.

Goals are strange, often illusive things. We aspire to them, we try to tackle them, we aim for them, we fight for them, and every so often, we achieve them. Lately, I’ve been trying to determine what I need to make that every-so-often be simply every.

In saying this, I don’t mean to say that I want to have everything I ever desired. Honestly, that’d be quite cumbersome. Rather, I’ve been evaluating what the core desires in me are and then figuring out how to make them absolutes. No more “one day,” but rather, “on my way.”

Some of you know through reading here, as well as perhaps through personal interactions, that my deepest longings rest in writing and in experiencing. So, I want to travel the world not to have done the rounds and be able to say “I’ve been there,” but because I want to go and experience that culture, interact with those people, and see life from their perspective. I want the learning and growing of that; I long for the understanding of that. There is nothing deeper in me than this desire to experience every people group in every corner of the world… and to connect with them.

I don’t much care how it happens. I just know it MUST happen.

The writing is my wanting to share those comical moments when two cultures just don’t quite get the other. Sort of that “lost in translation” aspect. Not, I must clarify, to poke fun at either culture, but to show the humor in their meeting and the process of connecting. Then, too, expressing the beauty of these connections and the delight of discovery of… well, friends.

I guess my goal is sort of a cultural anthropologist on speed. Right, I do know that an anthropologist tries to observe more than interact, but still what I seek is understanding and connection on that deeper level that both embraces and transcends cultures.

This passion, this intense focus, that comes with this rather unusual goal is something that cannot be mollified or quelched. In that, however, it is isolating. Many people admire such vision and think they share it, but of these few really want it in practice, and even fewer really understand it. My family cannot really understand it. And, in truth, not understanding this means not understanding me at my core.

My dream is not the accepted “American Dream.” Even on book websites I have been called names and berated and admonished (and those are only the nice things) for these goals. The most harsh are the people that had similar divergent dreams, but fell into routine or made choices that forced them to no longer be able to easily pursue their dreams, so they chided and mocked me.

I, however, have not, will not give in to status quo. It’s a beautiful thing if that’s your dream. It’s my brother’s dream – a home of his own, a wife and a family to raise up in it, the traditional job scenario, active in the local church. I’m so incredibly joy-filled that he has achieved so much of this. But it’s not my dream. It simply never will be. I don’t like the idea of settling down. It makes my bum itch just thinking about it.

Also, I will not apologize for going for it. I won’t even apologize if I fail at it – more than once, if it comes to that, in order to attain it. Because it’s about me going for MY dream, not coming ‘round to someone else’s. And I do seek whatever means and wisdom that is out there to help me find that path to my goal. So in all this, I’m determining that this one will NOT be “the one that got away.”

Currently.

I saw this on a couple of blogs I enjoy and thought I’d follow suit. Yes, I’m a bit late to the game.

Current Book(s): See sidebar (how i roll: i'm reading). I really am reading all seven of them. Not my norm to be reading so many at once, but it’s where I’m at just this moment I guess.

I’m not liking Catcher, but the rest are really interesting in entirely different ways. No Impact Man is not at all what I expected, so personal and funny and conversational… I highly recommend it.

Current Playlist: Mostly classical with traditional Celtic thrown in now and then. Okay, and Celtic drinking songs, too. They’re hilarious.

Current Shame-Inducing Guilty Pleasure: I don’t really do shame or guilt. Not in relation to pleasure, at least.

Current Drink: Chai, nice and spicy with no milk. When I lived in Italy I would fantasize about it and refer to it as “the nectar of the Gods.” It’s just next to me now. But also I found an old favorite wine the other night, Marqués de Cáceres Grianza and while it’s not as fabulous as I remember (or at least this vintage isn’t as tasty), I have still been enjoying it wholeheartedly with my homemade suppers the last few nights.

Current Food: Hmm, well I sort of had a festival of food this weekend in that I thoroughly enjoyed cooking up all sorts of lovely dishes from scratch… unfortunately the steak I grilled to go with my potato and mushroom au gratin, which I purchased last minute from the local Safeway rather than the market with the proper meat section, seems to have been bad so I tried to sooth my stomach with some of my homemade Irish soda bread I was trying to save for tomorrow’s breakfast. Fingers crossed it helps!

Current Favorite Show: Well, it’s not officially airing it’s last episodes for another week or so, but Saving Grace, absolutely. I can’t begin to say how deeply this show effects me.

I’ve been thinking about this recently because I’ve been trying to decide when I move what shows I’d still want to try to catch. As cheesy as this sounds, Bones made that list. Castle didn’t, but came close. I still love House, but would be okay without it I find.

Mostly I watch tons British shows, so whichever one I’m into at the moment would likely make the list (the advantage of them is that they only last from 6 to 8 episodes a season so it’s not exactly a long-term commitment). At this moment, that is Kingdom and Blackpool.

Current Wishlist: A job in and a ticket to Scotland. Oh, and my financial woes thrust upon me on the sly by my ex-boyfriend to magically disappear.

Current Needs: Money for the ticket, and the job of course.

Current Triumphs: Honestly, that I’m somehow maintaining a positive, hopeful outlook after all I’ve gone through. That I believe I am about to move forward with my goals, regardless of what my current circumstances look like from that horrid face called “reality.” Also, that I’m good with who I am as I am this moment. That’s huge.

Current Bane(s) of my Existence: Bouts of self-doubt. The garage with all the crap that must be gone through, gotten rid of, and most of all sold. The current situation of finances, of lacking relationships, of faltering belief in myself to attain; to live again.

Current Celebrity Crush: I guess it’d be a girl crush on Nigella Lawson. She is a goddess, domestic and otherwise. She’s stunning, confident, and completely at home in her curvaceous body. She loves food, loves to cook, loves to bring people together with it… and has the resources and high-brow connections to do so and make a living at it. May I please be her?

Also, Stephen Fry. I want to marry him. Yes, I know he’s gay. And English.

But honestly, he seems kind and witty, brilliant and compassionate. He both recognizes and embraces his differences, yet conveys an everyman's commonality with humanity. he's humble yet clever. In so many ways, he is endearing to me.

Current Indulgence: British television shows.

Current Blessing(s): Parents that have put up with (and financially supported) me all this time as I have been slowly, slowly emerging from the fog of trauma. My online girlfriends who support and encourage me just exactly when and how I need it. Going to therapy, silly as that sounds.

Current Outfit: PJs, actually. It’s late. But I wore one of my jail house striped tops today with jeans tucked into my awesome black Merrell rain boots, even though it was sunny. A girl can dream.

Current Excitement: I WISH I could say hockey, but my team has been sucking badly of late. That a dear friend got engaged this weekend. That I’m believing and working toward moving to Scotland. That I’m continuing to purge the detritus of life. That I’m allowed to wear heels again.

Current Link: I guess I’d have to say the blog that I first saw this list on, though I’ve been following the blog they got it from for a while, yet somehow missed this post on that one!

For better or for worse.

It’s the middle of the night and I’ve just finished “one of those days.” At the same time, it wasn’t all bad… it just left me melancholy and feeling a bit hopeless.

The good bits? For the first time in a really long time I had someone who listened and told me they were sorry and how much what was happening sucked. To individuals that have always had that, please TRUST ME, count your blessings. The last time I had a far, far worse situation I had a “good friend” tell me in the moment of crisis to just stay away then… at least that was the kindest bit of what they said. It is the most wonderful thing when something yucky happens to have someone listen then simply say, “That completely sucks, I’m so sorry!” So for that I’m overwhelmingly grateful.

The other nice thing was that another person whom hasn’t always made things easy for me actually came to my rescue – graciously. Usually this person has to let me know how much they are sacrificing for me and how I’m putting them out, but today she simply helped. It felt almost miraculous.

Still, the day seemed to want to twist me about his finger (the evil days are generally male… the truly depraved and vicious ones are obviously female). He wanted me to cower. With so many negative things piling up and his fierce vigilance at trying to bring me down, a simple conversation where I perceived that someone of importance in my life didn’t have faith in me for that which I’m striving toward was "the thing." You know, the tipping point. The day got his way. I crumbled.

I tried to process, but get angry when I can’t get past the self flagellation, so I thought escape was a good idea… in the form of organization (my go-to for feeling in control again) and a film. I chose, at random, Up in the Air. A movie about a man who had made an art of pairing down – great right? I’m working on that daily! – and a life of travel – so my goal! – only to discover that it’s all really about connections with people, and he didn’t actually have any. *Sigh.* Yes, let’s make me feel that much more crappy about my life and where I’m heading.

So. How do I then proceed? I’m a person who loves connections, but have never had one that… held out. I’m okay with that. I will continue to enjoy them for however long and on whatever level they are extended. Would it be nice to have one last? Most definitely. But in the mean time, I have to try to go for my dream, one step at a time. Even if it means I may be further isolating myself. I hope that’s not where this leads, but I will pursue regardless.

I’ll survive today’s adversity in large thanks to a lovely connection I have with a great person who knew to say, “I get it and I’m sorry.” I must have faith that my life will be graced with a few others that will also know how to listen and care – whom I can be there for as well. Lastly, I have to believe that whatever others think, I REALLY CAN.

Now to just get my heart to own all that… perhaps sleep is a good place to start. Thank you for indulging me in this reflective rant, and, well, good night.

The moments that make us.

I’ve noticed that these posts are becoming more cathartic and less topical than I initially indicated this blog was going to be. I think I will again get to my stories and views on fun things in this world, but right now my journey is once more opening up. To share that is invaluable, but further, I’d like to hope some of my revelations might inspire. So I ask that you “stay tuned” and see what might come of it.

That said, I have been contemplating what the difference is between one’s purpose in life and one’s goals in life. Defining them alone is a difficult thing, but to recognize how they effect each other as well as how they may or may not work together is another level of mental arduousness. Yet, it’s a refreshing sort of deliberation. Anything that potentially compels refining is, I think.

To this point in my life I hadn’t put a firm definition on these things. There were things I wanted – to achieve, to experience, to learn. There were things I hoped for – love, joy, fulfillment. There were thing I sought after – adventure, passion, vivacity. There were things I craved – connections, hope, understanding. But there was no clear definition of my purpose, nor a vision of how to actively pursue my loosely known goals.

It’s an exciting place to be, on this precipice of the discovery of a lifetime. It’s a sort of threshold moment, and man I’m jumping!