A Step in the Right Direction

 I am seriously contemplating taking a step outside my safe little COVID induced isolated little world. I am planning a day trip.

The incentive? An afternoon with my siblings. Oh, how I have missed my sibling time.

I have had a brief deck-visit with my sisters but I was uneasy. I didn't breathe in the moments the way I normally do.

Socializing is depleting me more than it is invigorating me these days. This trend was beginning before these months of isolation. The ongoing "state of emergency" recommendations have simply given me permission to be more of who I already was.

If anything or anyone can push me out of my comfort zone and take one step into the land of being social, it is my siblings. I think I'm ready.

This upcoming visit has one condition: "Weather permitting" These two words bring me great comfort. I am hopeful but not fully committed.

Story of my life. Hope without commitment. I don't want this state of mind to become my norm. I am in good hands taking this first tentative state with my siblings. It's up to me to make the most of this time of great hope.

Giving Up Verses Giving In

One of life's most important lessons just may be: "Know when to call for help". This renewed piece of knowledge is brought to you by The Need to Get A New Computer.

This is how I thought the conversation went:

Me: I bought the computer using no other information than what you told us. It has 8 GB of Ram with an Intel processor. It is untouched, still sealed, new in the box, just in case we have to return it. I have never bought a computer before. My Previous Computer Guy always did everything for me and brought it to me when he did whatever had to be done. My boss said to have you take care of setting up the new computer.

Computer Guy: All you need to do is turn it on and let the updates run. That will save me time ...

So that is how I got myself into a situation that was way above my pay grade.

I knew I was in trouble when the absolutely very first thing I did when the computer came to life and asked me the simple question: 

What language do you want to use? "United States - English or Canada - [I didn't stop to read any further - I just knew I lived in Canada so I clicked before I read]"

Warning! Warning! Warning!

Always read before you click!!!!!!!

I clicked "Canada - ________" and apparently the word after Canada must have been French because from that point onward the computer spoke and typed to me in Canadian French.

The day steadily went downhill from there.

The next day, my Computer Guy came to install data from the hard drive which had crashed and our conversation went something like this:

Me: I got myself in way over my head. I've never done this before and I made every mistake known to man.

Computer Guy: That's why I always like to set up a new computer myself.

Me: I thought you said all I had to do was turn it on and let the updates run.

Computer Guy: [after a calm discussion of what he thought he said and what I thought I heard] There is no sense in wondering about what happened yesterday. We can only go forward from here.

Me: So apparently, when the VERY first thing you do is wrong, you quit and call an expert in the field.

Computer Guy: [short version of a very long answer] Yes

Lesson learned. 

I have become as wise as I am due to all the things I have done wrong before I find the right way. My personal motto is "I rarely take a direct route to where I'm going but I always get there in the end." Sometimes? Just sometimes? I need a little help getting there.

All of what I have learned in life has come from doing it wrong before I got it right. Or finally figured out that I should simply give up and/or call for help.

Giving up verses giving in. This ongoing battle will continue to be part of my life story. 

When do we finally get to the part where we are simply wise? I guess when we stop trying new things. I am starting to believe learning is highly overrated.

“Once you stop learning you start dying” 

~ Albert Einstein

The Months of "No"

Shonda Rhimes' book "Year of Yes" was an inspiration to me. Her book was a testament to her year of "Yes" and the impact accepting life's invitations had on her life. 

I have tried the "Yes" way of life. It is fine. It has led me to places I would have never been before. It is both exhilarating and exhausting. It is hard. It is expensive. It goes against my naturally inherent introvert tendencies. The word "yes" depletes me as much as it enriches my life at times.

I have come to like the "easy yeses" instead.

I tried to come up with a list of "easy yeses" and my thought well ran dry. "Yes" does not come easy to me right now. I have been reveling in the COVID months of "No".

"No thank you" is my favorite go-to-response at the moment. 

As our world is gradually reopening there is a huge part of me that is screaming, "I'M NOT READY YET!!"

When I quizzed someone of the protocol about going out of province or whether having out of province guests would interfere with the ability to enter a retirement/senior living complex, they had to consult their books and came up with the response "As long as you aren't showing symptoms of COVID-19, you would be allowed access". My response to this was "Isn't it too late by then?" We both nodded our heads in agreement that the biggest risk was in spreading the virus while not showing symptoms. 

Due to the regular contact I have with my senior friends, I continue to be vigilant in my isolated little world. I don't get sick. Thus, I fear I could unknowingly spread a contagion to those who could be at risk. I continue to find reasons to say "No" to the invitations that are ever so slowly starting to reappear.

Where does paranoia start to overlap with common sense when it comes to the Coronavirus? Is my natural tendency to want to decline invitations being enabled by being able to label an excuse on it?

The reason I believe I am falling back on common sense is when it comes to invitations from family. It doesn't matter how depleted I feel, I equate interaction with my siblings to oxygen-for-my-soul. The answer is always, always, always "Yes! Yes!! Yes!!!".

This virus has beaten me down to a point where "No" is comfortable, safe, familiar, affordable and exactly where I most want to be.

I love the comfort weekends bring even more than I did during the B.C. (before COVID) days. I love parking the car Friday night and not starting it up again until I go to my aunt's on Monday.

I love, love, love working from home. I'm still having a little bit of trouble establishing boundaries but for the most part, my office-with-a-door offers most of the separation I need to keep work from infiltrating other areas of this oasis I call home.

I love the world of ordering online, free delivery or curbside pick-up. My heart clenches just a little before I enter a store-with-a-door. 

When I sat down with the words "the months of 'no' " at the tip of my fingertips this morning, my intent was to write of the lightness of heart I feel at living safely within the rules of isolation. Instead, the gravity of truth seeped out.

COVID-19, I truly appreciate the clarity, the isolation and lessons you have brought into our world. Personally, I am fortunate to say I have gained much more than I have lost though I know that is not the case for everyone. 

These months of "no" have been a holiday from life-as-I-know-it. It has been a reprieve from expectations. I know I must dip my toe back in the water and tentatively re-instate cautious "yeses" back into my world. The words "I'm not ready yet" have not yet been silenced. Perhaps there is a reason for that. Or maybe it is just an excuse.

One step in a forward direction, one step, one day at a time. Will take us where we need to go.

Housework Hurts

I took on domestic chores in a very selective and time limited way this weekend.

Day #1 - I cooked. Egg salad, mashed potatoes and Stove Top Stuffing. I thought I would never get out of the kitchen. 

I love boiling eggs. They are the best food to cook. No fussing required. They were so easy I almost forgot I had boiled them. Then came the peeling part. The shells came off in a bazillion pieces. Why in the world did I boil so many eggs? Eventually I completed the task and knew it would be worth it when I sat down to enjoy a egg salad sandwich later. It was a little crunchier than usual. Some egg shells must have got by me. 

Then I peeled potatoes. Boiling eggs is so much more fun. I used up the remainder of a ten pound bag of potatoes. I swear I must have peeled seven of the ten pounds. It felt like the bag would never run empty. I knew there was a finite amount of potatoes in the bag so I forged on. It took forever but eventually I completed the mission.

Once the potatoes were cooked, all I had to do was mash them, clean up the kitchen and I could move on with my day. I went about the task like I always do, plugged in the mix master and whirrrrrr!!! The power switch was on and I counted my lucky stars that my finger tips just missed the whirling beaters. If I hadn't cut my fingernails, I'm pretty sure I would have got tangled up in them. I'm not a big fan of cooking but I've never considered it dangerous until yesterday.

I survived the first day.

Day #2 - I vacuumed. I've already written about this (see below) so I will say no more. Except I caught the tips of my toes in the beater bar of the vacuum cleaner. Not only is cooking dangerous, so is vacuuming. 

There is a reason cooking and housework have fallen to the bottom of my to-do-list. They are death defying feats for the inexperienced. Domestic duties should come with a warning label.

I barely survived the weekend with my fingers and toes intact. 

Removing Obstacles

It was a holiday I didn't know I needed until I walked back into life-as-I-know it.

A writing workshop gave me the tools I need to make the most out of my life outside of work. I rekindled friendships and family connections. This holiday has sparked the idea of "next time" ...

I went back to work yesterday and I started filling out my application for a passport this morning.

The passport will be good for ten years. I just want to make it easy to say "yes" to whatever opportunity presents itself next.

My default answer has become "No, but thank you for asking". I have been grateful for the obstacles that assisted me in declining invitations. Applying for a passport is one step in a positive direction. Saying "yes" is still a little daunting to me. But I think I'm ready to remove one of the obstacles I have fallen back on many times.

What can you do NOW, to make it easier to say "yes" to the next invitation life may present you? One small step in a forward direction is a very good step to take.

The Long Road Home

They say it is good for one's brain health to take different routes, learn a new language, take up dancing, etc, etc. Last night I decided to be very brave and I took a new way home from my son's home.

"Take the new bridge!", he said after the opening of the new North Bridge in our fair city. "Why would I do that when I had a perfectly good route that was familiar, straight forward and time effective?", I quietly thought to myself.

Last night, I decided that turning right during rush hour traffic could save me time and frustration verses turning left, without a set of lights to make the job easy. "I'll take the new bridge," I thought. "It will be an adventure," I encouraged myself.

I drove north when I needed to go west. I drove and drove. Then drove some more. "Did I cross the river without realizing it? Was I out of the city? Would this road take me where I thought I should go?"

At no point did I find this enjoyable. I never felt lost but I was pretty sure this was not the most expedient way home.

At long last, I found the landmarks I expected to see. Along with those landmarks, came rush hour traffic. The logical way back into the city would be back logged with vehicles.

As I tried to find a logical reason why I was so far out of my way, I decided I could make a "quick" trip into Costco to make this detour worth my while. While I thought I was getting myself out of a must-turn-left lane, I found myself in a lane where making a left turn into the (very busy looking) Costco parking lot was an impossibility.

So I kept on going.

I was certain the road I was on would take me to the highway to Edmonton. I could detour outside the city and take the highway less travelled to get me back into home territory.

The road was long. I never come at this particular highway from an westward direction. I am always coming in from the east.

Roads less travelled feel like they take so much longer, without familiar sights to guide you. I was on a double lane highway, knowing I had to turn left. I just didn't know how soon this would happen so I stayed in the passing lane, while ensuring I wasn't holding up any traffic behind me.

Sweat was thinking about accumulating on my brow. I was not only out of my comfort zone, I felt like I may have slipped into another time zone due to the excessive mileage I was travelling.

Finally, finally, finally the signage appeared and I got to turn left and head home on my warm and familiar highway. I would have never guessed that this road would not come with an extended left-turn lane so I turned on my signal light well in advance of my turn. I looked in my rear view mirror and was relieved to see the car behind me yield to my need to slow down. I had made it this far. I didn't want to end up in an accident this close to my destination.

That worn, familiar highway never looked so good. But even it felt longer as I anxiously made my way towards home. They took down the signage at my street but thankfully I recognized it anyway. Another left turn and no one rear ended me on this highway either.

I drove 15 km's out of my way, took an extra 15 minutes to get home and forgot to relax and enjoy the view. This all started so I could avoid "turning left".

When my brain functions start slowing down and the experts remind me of all the ways I can exercise and rewire my brain, they may mention "taking new routes home" as a suggestion. I think I may try to learn Spanish instead.

Layering

As I reread my entirely unnecessary and rambling post from yesterday, I spotted the message within the excessive words. The hidden message was "Everything we learn and do with our lives prepares us for the next step".

Every job I have held, no matter how small, prepared me for the next. The fact that I often seemed to have another job on the side tells me that I was always searching and open to add another layer of experience and looking ways to become more of who I was.

There is nothing I enjoy more than being on the receiving end of a service provided by someone who is well suited for and enjoys the work they do.

A brief conversation with a server at a restaurant revealed why we were so impressed. He replied that he had tried a different line of work but he was told because he was service oriented, he should work in the customer service industry . Whoever planted that seed in his mind deserves a medal. Our server deserves a medal himself, for nurturing that advice. He heard it, pursued it and even if this position is simply a stepping stone to the career he is headed towards, he has found a job that currently honors who he is.

The hospital staff we came across throughout Mom's various hospital visits are a true testament to the hard working medical team who made Mom's visits easier to bear.

We spent a lot of that time in the ER, a place where you know the demands on the staff is high, the line of people waiting to be seen is long and there are limited resources. Yet every single time Mom was admitted and she made mention of others who were worse off and needed more immediate attention than her, she was assured and reassured that she needed medical attention just as much as anyone else. They would treat her with respect, speak to the person she was and proceed to give her their full attention. These were medical professionals who, from what we experienced, were in a job they were perfectly suited for. They were shining stars.

We came across an EMT extraordinaire, who came and checked in on us each time he made a return trip to the hospital with a new patient. I cannot see his face in my mind but I'll never forget his last comment, "It's the Big Bird family!" he made when he spotted all of us gowned up in bright yellow gowns as they took precautions over the "unknown cause" of Mom's stomach troubles (that minor, but unnecessary inconvenience resulted in the necessity of a private room for Mom which, in the end, was a true blessing). I can't imagine the type of person you need to be, to become an EMT. In my opinion, they are superstars. This particular one stands out in my memory but he was last, in a long line of an emergency responders who went above and beyond the call of duty.

My mind veers off in several directions as I replay scenarios in my mind.

When we walk with the current, it often takes us where we need to go even when the path feels like it is filled with unnecessary diversions.

I recently made the comment that I did indeed marry too young and if my life became a "choose your own adventure" storybook and I could go back and change one thing, I said I would choose not to marry at age seventeen. I barely spoke the words when I realized that would mean I would never have had my second son; the chances of relocating close to my roots would have been remote; I most likely would have never made the family connections I have made while researching our family history books; nor would I have been in the time and place I was, when my third child came to be.

I backtracked my thinking and quickly realized that the connective tissue that made my life exactly as it IS would not have happened if I didn't marry who and when I did. I was a shell of who I have become and without the challenges I faced, I fear for who I may not have evolved into being.

Life layers you with experiences. One layer of knowledge, experience, misguided thinking and errors of judgement teaches you what you need to know to take on the next lesson you need. If we take these lessons and lie one on top of the other, keeping what we need to know and paying that forward, we are on our way to living our best life.

My nephew, who has found a way to make a living by making people laugh, said it all when he commented that there was no such thing as a "bad show". Those were the shows that gave him some of the best material to work with. He takes a bad show and makes it better. That, in my humble opinion, is the definition of success. Taking what you are given, turning it around and utilizing it to make the next step as best as you can.

Perfection is a futile expectation but I suppose I will never stop aiming for it, knowing that aiming high will take me where I need to go. Making mistakes along the way is to be expected and necessary. If we attained perfection immediately, we wouldn't learn what we need to know to become better.

It is the mistakes, missteps, misguided decisions and diversions that has taught me everything I need to know, to be who I am. Who I am is always in need of improvement, new hopes, dreams and goals.

There is something that changes when one reaches the final semester of life. Fear of failing becomes a little more crippling because it is accompanied by the sense that there is not as much time to recover from a fall.

Fear of falling. Fear of failing. Fear of losing. It all equals a fear of living. This is where I seem to be hovering. I know I can't remain in this phase very long so I am trying to insulate myself with the knowledge and understanding that life has taught me everything I need to know to take another tentative step.

Take what you have and carry it forward with you, knowing it will take you where you need to go. Just like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, she had the power all along; she had to learn it for herself.

"If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own backyard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with! Is that right?" ~ Dorothy, "The Wizard of Oz"

If You Ask Them ...

I pushed myself out of my comfort zone yesterday and it was a beautiful thing. I was instantly transported back to a time when I started inviting people into my world and the response was overwhelmingly positive.

This is where one must never keep score. I could tally up the invitations sent and the response rate. But I won't. What I must remember and focus on, is the immediate response of those who were ready to simply say "Yes!"

It was intoxicating. I asked. They said yes.

Unfortunately, "yes" came too quickly to one person and they had to rescind their initial answer. So we are presently in the mode of trying to find the best date for the most people. This is where it gets harder.

I set a date, a place and a time. I was concrete in my invitation. Then when the votes started coming back, I turned all wishy washy. I am being reminded of the reason why I stopped sending out these invitations. It gets hard when one tries to please everyone.

I believe that is part of the reason I started preferring to live life spontaneously. "Do you want to go out for coffee right now?" That is a very easy yes or no answer. "Do you want to meet for coffee a week from Tuesday at 7:00 p.m.?" My immediate thought is "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know!!"

Unfortunately, when you attempt to gather more than two people (or even meet up with one one busy person), spontaneity is usually not a viable option. In order to feel success in your mission, you must cast a wide net, provide options, tally the responses then pick the place, the date and the time according to those answers. It gets complicated.

I like options.

I issued another invitation last week. It was an invitation with a few options. It was a "let's pick a date and give ourselves a few choices and back out clauses". Setting the date was key. We set the date and let the rest of our plans fall as they may. Our plans were contingent on good weather so we made a "Plan B". Our "Plan B" was a flexible and last minute option. I just received the call back on that very plan and it is a go.

We will head out today and our outing has a feeling of "being where we are meant to be". I like that feeling.

In the meantime, I will sit back and tally up today's responses and reissue a revised invitation at the day's end.

It was almost intoxicating to read those initial responses. "It's so nice to hear from you! We have been thinking of you lots recently..."; "Yes!!!!!"; "I'm soo glad you reached out..." Even those who were unable to make it were grateful for the invitation.

I must focus on the gratitude, the excitement and the mutual desire to reconnect and stay connected. It isn't about keeping score. It is about maintaining connections.

Whew! There for a while I was focusing my energy on the wrong things. I felt defeated. Now that I've sat still and started remembering how good it felt to read those initial responses, I think it is time to try hone in on doing that which terrifies me.

It is time to invite more people back into my world. I will cast a wide net and focus the positive energy generated by simply opening myself up to the possibilities. It is hard. But it is necessary. I can do hard things.

If I ask them ... they may come. If I don't ask, I can be quite certain that they won't.

Just Write

In an effort to rekindle my brain to fingertip connection I am trying to reformulate my morning writing habit. In an effort to keep my brain from going to mush, I replaced writing with word and number puzzles. Puzzling isn't the worst thing I could do but formulating cohesive sentences out of the meandering thoughts in my brain is probably where I need to concentrate my efforts. So here I am. Again.

I'm feeling the wear and tear of my week. It has been a short work week but it is still taking a toll. It isn't awful. I'm heading off to work this morning without that pit in my stomach so that is a good thing.

Why the pit? Is it because I'm walking in new and unfamiliar territory within a familiar job? A little bit.

I do like the challenge of learning something new, applying what I know and expanding on it is exactly how I like to roll. It isn't the learning that is getting me down.

Is it the job? A little bit. I like numbers well enough. We get along fine. Errors can be found. There is right and wrong. I like balancing to zero. I love solving a number puzzle. There is a challenge there that I enjoy.

But I don't love numbers. They are too calculating. They are demanding at times. I like to walk away from that world and walk into the real world where life is many shades of gray and every color under the rainbow.

I like looking up and out into the world. I like developing relationships with people. I like knowing a little piece of my day has made a difference to someone outside my own tiny little circle of "me".

Perhaps that is the part of my number job that has me hooked. I do like the person I work for. I would never abandon her. But there are many times when I would just like to walk away from a day and return with a fresh new slate on a brand new day.

Perhaps that is why I took the opportunity when I found it yesterday.

I finished my coffee and was dealing with a nasty bout of "coffee breath". I had some gum in the car AND I had some shredding to take out to the garbage. I took a quick work break and ran out to my car for a piece of gum. I literally walked away from my day and it felt good.

It was when I was walking back to the building when life tapped me on the shoulder and reminded me of how quickly things can happen.

A couple in a car were coming out of the parking area and were waving me on so I could walk pass. I didn't need to cross their path, so I happily waved them along as I tried to indicate I was going the other direction. I was cheerfully waving when WHAM! Down onto the pavement I fell, as I literally fell off the curb.

I went down. Way, way down. I landed on the heels of my hands and my elbow. I wasn't flat out but I was close enough.

I jumped up and immediately started laughing at myself. The poor lady in the car was aghast that I had taken a nose dive right in front of them. Again, I merrily waved them along assuring them I was just fine.

I took a several steps before I dusted myself off and headed back to work. Later in the day, I noticed I had scraped up my knee. I was over-the-moon relieved when I realized I could have ripped my new capris in the tumble. My skin will heal. Finding a pair of capris that fit is a whole other story.

In the matter of one nanosecond, things could have been so different. My mom and my sister recently broke a wrist in a similar but different kind of situation. One innocent tumble and "snap". A joint was broken and their mobility was limited by a cast for the next six weeks.

One second, a person is grumbling about their lot in life. The next, "anything" could happen.

Accidents are called "accidents" for a reason. No one plans for them to happen. Then POOF! Life can change in an instant.

So I will pack up my tender knee and haul it off to work today. The day's challenges aren't pounding in my chest before I walk in the door. For that, I am very grateful. The person I work for has things coming at her from every direction and this is not a relaxing and easy time for her. I can relieve some of that burden. Just by showing up. So I shall.

I guess I do make a difference at my "numbers job" after all. And this is why I would choose to work here no matter what my bank balance is.

I'm very fortunate. Not only did my wake up call result a mere skinned knee, but I go to work each day with the knowledge that I'm quietly making a difference. That's more than money can buy.

Now, if only I can reduce my work week to three days I'll have it made in the shade! I am feeling rather "rich", after all...

I Can Do Hard Things!

I can do hard things. Unfortunately my definition of "hard" has become easier to attain but I'm going to give myself a little break here because there for a while, even "easy" was hard. So I'm lowering my standards a little in the hope of gradually reestablishing myself on some firmer ground before I reset the bar.

I slipped into a pretty good case of the doldrums over the winter. I was rewriting my life and had upended one firmly established form of income with a great deal of faith that all would work out in the end.

The middle of this story is bleak. I kept trying to talk myself into believing it was going to work out okay. I said all the right things to myself. But I couldn't quiet the incessant voice of fear that wouldn't stop whispering in my ear.

I was exactly where I was meant to be. I knew it in my heart. Life kept unfolding in unexpected ways and I was available to simply be where I most needed and wanted to be. But the moment I wasn't feeling "needed", I lost my way.

It has been a gentle climb to solid ground ever since.

As I reflected on these words and rewound "the middle of the story" in my mind, I searched for clues as to what I was feeling in the deep, dark dire moments of the most recent winter in my life.

I unearthed last year's calendar and two documents I wrote while I was in the state of nowhere. I read what I wrote at the time and I can see how I WAS actually exactly where I needed to be. Even in my most uncomfortable moments.

Sometimes, life simply hands you a "mirror". You are unhappy with yourself, the moment and the past, present and future. You are stuck and you feel the quicksand of life pulling you down. You don't know how to save yourself until you see someone you love right beside you fighting the same battle. And somehow, unknowingly you pull yourself up, shake yourself off, find your sea legs again and simply take one step in a forward direction.

The state of inertia is the worst place in the world for me to be. The state of unknowing. The state of fear and despair. The mere act of doing nothing is worse than taking a step in the wrong direction. Taking one step in any direction is better than standing still and going under.

I looked in one of the many mirrors I had within the small little world I had created for myself at the time. In the act of trying to find the answers for someone else, I found a twig which was rooted in solid ground. I pulled myself to safety. I look back to that moment in time and I look at the present. I know the single act of "saving myself" wasn't all it took to get from "there" to "here", but I look now and I see two people pulled out of that pit of despair.

I was just starting to see the light when I wrote these words:

"I think the world is laughing in my face as I deem to believe I truly have any control over the way things will unfold from this point onward. I think this is why my feeling of being "lost at sea" is driving me. Because I truly believe I will not find my answers by searching the internet, working on my financial spreadsheets, gazing at calendars looking for direction. 

When you feel lost at sea, where do you look? Upwards. Find the North star to guide you. Looking in any one direction of endless sea, any direction you choose is a gamble. Perhaps a gamble worth taking, but perhaps it would be more prudent to follow a wayward bird in the direction of dry land. You won't find a bird anywhere but in the sky. Look upwards. Stop fearing what you don't know. Keep hydrated and perhaps keep wearing that life jacket. But "look up"..."

I read the words I wrote, looked at the calendar beside me and see how every single step I have taken since that day has been a step in a  positive direction. There have been detours and obstacles. But this time, I didn't let that stop me. This time, the detours did not distract me from my destination.

Once before, a similar set of circumstances completely derailed me and I never did get back on that particular set of tracks. Life keeps presenting you with lessons. What I didn't learn the first time around, I believe I conquered the second time.

How many times this lesson has been repeated prior to the two that are most prevalent in my mind is anyone's guess. The time you succeed is the time to remember and celebrate. And now? I am fully prepared for life to present its next lesson to me. I suspect I won't enjoy it in the moment, but if I can overcome and prevail, it will be an uncomfortable lesson well learned.

Because I can do hard things. So can you!

That said, I think I'm going to tackle one of the hardest things of all. I am going to book an appointment to get my hair cut. To be continued...

A Minor Crisis of Epic Proportions

I can feel it with every fibre of my being this morning. I'm starting to rise again. This has been a long time coming. It is my hope that the harder one has to work, the longer one has to wait and the more desperate one becomes before a change, the longer the transformation will last.

I knew this. I knew I was having my "on the floor" moment, minus the crisis. There was no drama, no fanfare nor any one catalyst that drew attention to the fact that I was losing the battle. It was quiet, undramatic and invisible to the naked eye. I was undergoing a minor crisis of epic proportions and the way it presented itself to me was a low grade depression I could not kick, with a side order of annoying little pains and topped off with an optic migraine.

I have never had a migraine headache so I was completely unaware of the optical symptoms which accompany it. My eyes simply went weird on me and it scared my socks off. My over imaginative brain had all sorts of ideas going on inside of it, from something sitting on my optic nerve, to a brain aneurysm, to a tumor, to simply a detached retina. Thankfully it was none of the above. It was a migraine headache without the pain.

Pain without a cause seems to be the common denominator within several of my recent symptoms. A sore wrist turned into a sore thumb when I went for physical therapy to cure a pain that may or may not have existed in the first place (I'm certain it existed otherwise my imagination is taking over my reality and that is too frightening to consider). I told the therapist I had a sore wrist and he "ruined" my thumb on his assumption (or my miscommunication skills) that it was related. On a positive note, my thumb pain has exceeded my wrist pain so I guess that is something. I have yet to recover from one session of physical therapy. This happened the last time went to that very office. The cure was worse than the symptom. Which makes me wonder if I was really feeling physical pain to begin with, or if this was all in my head. The opposite of my painless migraine.

Last week, it was a toothache which woke me up in the middle of the night and lasted for four days. Obviously I was not imagining this because I couldn't eat or place any pressure on that side of my mouth. So I booked an early morning emergency dental appointment to fix whatever was going wrong because I didn't have time to go twice, for something I needed fixed immediately. What happened instead, was they took an X-ray and there was no physical reason for my toothache. The dentist's best guess is that I injured a ligament in  my tooth and only time would heal it. Or else the nerve was dying and a root canal would become necessary eventually. But for that day, there was physically no reason for my pain and nothing he could do to fix it.

What the heck? I came home and wondered if I have reached the age where doctors look at you and decide you aren't worth fixing any more or if I was simply imagining things. This morning, I started thinking of my invisible "rock bottom moment" without a defined crisis to warrant the event and I started to wonder if these physical symptoms without a cause was related. The pain was real in both cases (physically and mentally) but there was no excuse for it.

Hmmm.

I walked into my doctor's office for my annual physical check-up days after my "ocular migraine" feeling absolutely defeated. I felt mentally and physically spent. I didn't know what to do. I was stuck at a crossroad and it looked like a dead end. I wasn't in pain but I was (or must have been) displaying symptoms of arthritis so she offered me a perscription for "Cymbalta".  which treats depression, with the added benefit of alleviating chronic pain disorders such as arthritis. The idea of taking a pill which would fix all that ailed me sounded like the best and easiest way out. I had been trying to dig myself out of the pit I had fallen into for the better part of a year. On my own, I couldn't get a strong foothold before I fell back, with every forward step. "Sign me up!" was all I could think in that very moment. She also suggested taking some arthritic painkillers to help with the no-grade pain that was causing me to slow down.

I felt euphoric when I walked out of that office, thinking I had found my solution. Call it cosmic timing, call it what you may but within a day of that event, I went out to Mom's after she broke her wrist and was dealing with physical pain with a very real and defined cause. All I could think after I returned home from my visit was her insistence that she didn't want to become reliant or addicted to any pain medication. "You feel pain for a reason" was her logic. We countered with the argument "Why feel pain if you don't have to?"

"Why feel pain if you don't have to?" The words haunted me. I stopped taking the arthritic pain killers immediately and a few weeks later, I called my doctor and told her I want to stop taking the Cymbalta. It was after I was weaned off of that medication when my tooth started to ache (well, it was also after I ate some popcorn, so I really thought my toothache was popcorn related). It was after I was told there was no reason for my tooth to ache when I truly started to question what was going on with "me".

Then I listened to another one of Glennon Melton Doyle's podcasts this morning and she talked about "rock bottom moments" and the need to not only FEEL your pain but she has actually found herself running towards it "because that's where the good stuff is" (she writes about it here: http://momastery.com/blog/2015/04/21/pain-mistake/).

I looked back on my "rock bottom moments", the moments when life brought me to my knees and YES! I totally agree and have always said (even before I knew Glennon so well) that these were the moments that changed me, rerouted my life and took me where I needed to go. Pregnant and unmarried at the age of 17, then divorced by age 18; uprooting my life and my family with little more than the clothes on my back at age 27; single and pregnant (again) at the age of 37; alone and broken hearted (after what I KNEW was going to be the relationship which I would last for the rest of my life time) at the age of 46. THESE were all of my "fall to the floor broken, broken hearted" moments that defined me and changed my life. These were awful in the moment but took me to the very best of places.

Then came the more subtle "rock bottom moments". A stream of bad work experiences outside of my home brought me back "home again". I reopened my daycare. I was still broken and wounded. I had learned lessons but I didn't take those lessons and incorporate them into my life moving forward. I simply internalized them. I lived in an insulated world of safety and acceptance for four years. Then came this year. The year of "pain without a cause".

I had hit rock bottom and there was no evidence that I was there. There was no dramatic crash. It was quiet but just as painful. And it was lonely. Lonely because I did not invite anyone into the abyss. "Yes, I'm okay. I went through a tough spell but I learned a lot." I surrounded myself within my insulated world, worked for parents who appreciated and were (are) so very kind to me. Life was good. I had no reason to complain. Except for this low grade pain I couldn't make go away. Was this the reason my body was starting to hurt for no physical reason?

I started my holiday by listening to Glennon Doyle Melton at "The Beautiful Writers Podcast": https://soundcloud.com/user-780938996/martha-beck-glennon-melton-interview-ver-2-7-29-2016 and I knew. I just KNEW I had to close my daycare and take a chance on my future. I was willing to cash in on my pension to fund my transition but I knew it with the certainty that I had to end my marriage once and for all. I knew my life depended on it. I simply KNEW.

The decision to close my daycare has been made with grace, with four month's warning and lots of time for all of us to readjust. My daycare parents, as always, have been nothing but kind to me as I explained my need to close my doors.

In closing one door, I started talking again. By talking, another door opened. By opening up and not pretending I was okay living in discomfort, I found comfort. And the opportunity to earn an income during this transitional phase.

In order for new doors to open, we have to close other doors. Standing in the doorway with one foot in both places is not my way. I'm either "all in" or I'm "all out". I have to be out of one place before I'm ready to step into another.

I have faith in the future but I need to be honest with myself and "real" with the people who walk beside me as I take steps toward uncertainty. I don't need advise or guidance. I simply need to be honest. Every single time I have been honest, I hear honesty echoed back to me. This is the world I want and need to live in. I'm not exactly sure what it looks like right now. But I know I'm one step closer than I was yesterday.

I'm Back

I took an unplanned hiatus from writing over my holiday. Then I went back to work and I was even more depleted than I had been before my holiday so there were no words. I take that back. There were lots of words, thoughts and ideas. But they weren't pretty, consistent nor fun to live with. So I drowned myself in television and sleep and kept most of them to myself.

Long story short, I knew I had to make a change. I just didn't have a plan. After three solid weeks of squirming with uncertainty and trying out many different scenarios in my mind, I think I am making headway. I am handing in my notice at the end of today. I am winding up my daycare and moving on. 

I'm not jumping into this transition. I will wind things up by the year's end. I have four months to get used to the idea. Four months to fine tune "what happens next". I like to hold onto the illusion I have a modicum of control over my fate but in reality, I am taking a leap of faith. I have a plan. I just have to put my trust in it and I'm not quite there yet.

So many ideas have wafted in, out and through this tired little brain of mine. 

When I last wrote here three weeks ago, I knew with a certainty I haven't felt in a very long time, that I had to give up my daycare. I knew it. I had no idea what to do next nor did I want to push the idea. A year's leave of absence was my plan. I would do whatever it took to quit one job without leaping blindly into the next. My year of jumping desperately from one job to the next and barely holding on taught me I need to move cautiously. No leaping before I looked. That was all I knew for sure. 

So I set the wheels in motion and signed the papers to start withdrawing from my pension fund. Not a wise financial move. I know this. But you weren't inside my head. It was dark and scary in there. I knew I needed a safe place to fall and knowing I had a little nest egg I could draw on was all I could hold onto for consolation. I knew I could not continue doing what I was doing but the idea of taking on a brand new job outside of our home paralyzed me. I had to take a step in a forward direction so I took it.

Then my son dropped by and talked with me. He stayed and talked until I stopped feeling so desperate. The more I talked, the freer my thoughts flowed. I opened my mouth and the words I planned to say didn't come out. Instead (I have no idea how this happened, because it was without forethought) I heard myself say "Maybe I should contact my former employer [of twenty years] and see if they would consider rehiring me". It was as if the truth was just spoken. The world stopped spinning for a millisecond until I heard my son reply, "I think you may be onto something ..."

I woke up the next morning feeling like the weight of the world fell off my shoulders. I cancelled my pension withdrawal immediately. I had a plan. It wasn't a terrifying one. It was scary enough but I thought I could do it. I called my mom and told her I finally felt like I was on holidays. I felt energized and my energy is a rare resource these days so I cautioned her that I was considering coming out to see her the second week of my holiday instead of "that day".

I went about "that day" and all was well. I did laundry and went through the motions of preparing myself to leave for Mom's later that day but I truly believed I would stay home and simply revel in the fact that my life was in order, I would pick up "holiday groceries" on my way home then settle in for a few productive days at home.

Then I got the call. Mom broke her wrist and was in the hospital. My plans changed on a dime and my sisters joined me for the ride. Mom said she didn't need anyone to come out but not one of us regrets changing our plans midstream and following the path we were meant to take.

So many thoughts come to mind when I think of Mom living on her own, with my brother being the only one who lives close by. Mom is fiercely independent but this accidental fall was an eye opener. She was so lucky in the whole scheme of things but this inconvenient breakage of a bone has severely hampered her independent spirit. 

I woke up the second morning we were there "knowing" what I wanted and was perfectly capable of doing. I wanted to pack up everything and move out to Mom's. I could be as quiet a presence as she wanted me to be but I could be there. I could take care of little things, I could drive her where she wanted to go and I could be company when her days felt too quiet. I could do this. With one minor hiccup. I still happen to have one dependent child and two cats at home. This hiccup turned into a road block I couldn't overcome.

So I ended my holidays knowing little more than I knew before they began. I knew I had come to the end of the line here in my daycare world but I was terrified to make a move to change it. I thought I could push through if I didn't push what I felt capable of doing. I watched my friend sit among her three daycare charges when I went to see her and I admired her calm demeanor. Her daycare charges picked up on her energy and they were so good, so calm and so easy to be around. "I can do this!" I told myself all last week. I was wrong.

I gave the week the best shot I knew how to give. One of my daycare families gave me notice they would be done at the end of the month and I tried to envision the personalities I would still have in my midst. I wanted to believe that without this "one" extra child, I would be capable of holding on and sticking it out. But when I recapped my remaining challenges in an early morning Saturday email I heard the truth. Again. I need to give up my daycare. For me, for the children I tend and for the sake of humanity. I have to quit.

So I unloaded my burdens on my bookkeeping boss when I went to work a few hours later and I think I have found a safe place to fall. At least during the transition out of daycare and back into the real world. She needs me to work far more than I am working now. At least two, maybe three days a week. But in the new year, she said she has full time work for me as she wraps up the "year end". This feels like the perfect solution for both of us. At least for now.

What is most important to me right now, is the ability to drop everything and run out to Mom's if the need arises. I was so relieved I could be so available during my holiday. I was exactly where I needed to be. I want to be that available on a permanent basis. Maybe I can't uproot my life and move out there, but I can shuffle my life around a bit and be "available". 

It isn't the end all solution but it is enough to push me through this moment and give me the courage to hand in my notice today. I puttered around with a daycare newsletter most of yesterday. I will hand it out and talk to my parents at the end of today. It will be done.

"There is no easy way to say this, so I will just say it. I will be closing my daycare on December 23rd, what was scheduled to be my last day before Christmas holidays..."

Change is in the air. I hope it wafts gently through the days, weeks and months ahead and I land safely on the ground when the dust settles. The last time I tried this it was a bit more like a plow wind, wreaking destruction along its path. I must have faith that I learned some valuable lessons along the way and though I'm sure this path will be windy at times, I do see a port in the storm somewhere in my distant future. I'll just keep taking one step in front of the other and try to enjoy the journey.

Meandering Thoughts

I had a free hour at my disposal the morning before my youngest son graduated so I ran over to my lawyer's office and updated my will. Yes, my timing was very strange but I had this overwhelming need to simplify my life, my estate and tie up all loose ends as soon my last dependent officially became an adult.

"Name my three sons as beneficiaries of every asset I have, divide everything in three, remove all trust conditions and make this will be the last will I will ever need to write" became the theme of my thoughts in the months that preceded my youngest son turning eighteen years old.

My thoughts of having three adult sons have felt diverse and complicated and simple all at the same time. This is the first time since I was seventeen years old that I have not had a dependent. I thought I would be in a different place in my life when I became single, without dependants. I'm not sure who I thought I would be but I guess I simply assumed I would "know". I can die, now that no one is dependent upon me, has been a predominant line of thinking.

This sounds more morbid than it actually is. My first marriage was a complicated one and I was terrified of dying at any time while my first two sons were still dependent upon me. I could not have rested easy, knowing the potential mess I left behind. Things wouldn't have been as messy had I not been able to fulfil my parenting role with my third child but it would have been complicated enough. I simply wanted to be here to raise my own children. Plain and simple.

My children have all been raised but I truly believe there is still much parenting left for me to do. I look at my diverse family of four and I see four individuals at four different forks in the road. Each one of us is feeling and going through something completely different than the other and my present day wish is to find a way to unite us in our diversity.

I want my children to feel strength in their brotherhood. This is no easy feat when an average of ten years separates each one of them and there is a twenty year age span between my youngest and my oldest. There is a parallel division of ages within my own siblings and our family ties are strong and united. This is the gift I want for my own children.

Then there are the words my cousin spoke when she remarried after her children were grown. I can't remember her exact words but they were something to the effect that her first priority after her divorce, was raising her children. Once they were independent and on their own, she could think about remarrying. And she did. When her youngest child was twenty years old.

This thought spawned many others. Like "who am I" now that I have technically raised my children to adulthood? What kind of "package deal" am I, when all I am is me? My identity is going through a transition and I am not entirely certain who I am and what I have to offer to another person or a relationship.

I have perspective. I have maturity. I have debt. I don't have a financial plan. I make a living but I'm not living my life. I work but I don't have a career. I try to be kind but I fail at times. I do the best I can but I often fall short of what I expect of myself.

As an afterthought, I asked my lawyer what would happen to my (now) current will if by chance I was to remarry. I clarified my query with the disclaimer, "This is as unlikely as me paying off my mortgage before I die, but if per chance I was to remarry would this nullify my will?" The short answer to that is "Yes". The long answer is "Now that my life has the potential to be simplified, would I want to complicate it?" The short answer is "Yes, I do believe I do."

There were many thoughts streaming through my consciousness as I walked through my youngest son's graduation day. So many thoughts. My emotions were stable but there was much going on beneath the surface.

As I sat in the auditorium with every beneficiary named in my will and three out of four of my "in case of common disaster" clause, I thought if some horrific disaster consumed the lives of all of those underneath that roof, there would only be one man left standing who was named within my will.

I thought that crazy, insane thought and shook my head. Who in the world thinks thoughts like that on a day that is supposed to be a full on celebration? Then I woke up to the news that has been going on around us. Shootings, rage, terrorism and a feeling that one never knows when a life could be lost is prevalent within our world.

I cannot focus on the unknowns and all I cannot control. The only thing I know how to do, is to spread kindness, try to raise wholehearted children, keep peace and tranquillity within our home, our hearts and family. I know how to listen and hope the words that escape my mouth and fingertips are ones of compassion, honesty and openness.

Our world is feeling very divided. I do believe what I wish for within our world is what I wish for within my own little family unit. "Each one of us is feeling and going through something completely diverse than the other and my present day wish is to find a way to unite us in our diversity."

We can't change the world. But we can change ourselves. I hope you look kindly upon those who are different than you today. Spread kindness in the hope that it grows and prospers. Kindness wins. I truly believe there is much more good than evil in this world of ours. The evil is getting far too much publicity. Ignoring it and pretending it isn't happening is probably not the answer. But how about reflecting kindness and compassion to those who frighten and threaten you? What if we looked Fear in the eye and listened to life from their perspective?

"Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced."

~ James Baldwin

New Roads = Great Discomfort

I'm not certain how I can possibly feel so exhausted after such a well rounded weekend. But I am. Maybe it is the thought of returning to life as I know it. Maybe I just stayed up too late last night. Maybe my brain is tired. Or my body. I gave both my brain and body a bit of a work out this past weekend.

My big weekend plans were to meet up with a friend for an overnight visit at a destination five hours from here. Yes, I had to leave the house for another overnight stay two weeks after my last traumatic experience on a similar venture.

I took what I learned from my last anxiety filled weekend adventure to make it easier for me to walk out the door. I got up early, gave myself plenty of time to enjoy my morning routines so I wouldn't feel rushed and not ready to leave the house. I sat outside with our cats, I sent off an early morning email, I trimmed the grass growing in our non-maintenance zone and just savored the moments.

Then I had to get ready to leave. Easy. All I had to do was take a quick bath and head out. Everything was ready to go. I just needed to freshen up, get dressed and leave the house. Then I decided I could shower without getting my hair wet and I would feel ever so much fresher than I do after having a bath.

I was wrong. I was so wrong. I ended up getting very wet. My hair was a bigger mess than it would have been, had I simply washed it. I tried rushing the drying and styling process because I simply did not have time to be messing with my hair.

In the end, I ended up with two day old "cleanish" hair that felt dirtier than it would have, had it been left alone. Drying and styling two day old hair leaves one feeling very unfresh. But I didn't have time to start from scratch so I sent off a message telling my friend I'd be delayed by a half hour and I was on my way.

I followed the highway signs out of the city. Except they have changed this exit route since the last time I drove down this highway seven years ago. Not only did they change the road, they neglected to erect a sign directing me to the highway I needed to take.

I drove down the wrong highway for a little while before I turned around and started all over again. Obviously I had just missed a sign, right? That is what I thought. I stopped to look at the fifteen year old map in my car before I tried again. Obviously that was not going to help me out since the city has expanded substantially and the exit I was looking for would have been the same one I took seven years ago. So I just backtracked enough to ensure I followed the highway signs. Surely I was not the only one exiting the city who was looking for "Highway 7".

I followed the signs and trusted that the wrong road I had just taken must have been the right one after all, and I just had to be patient and wait for the turn off to my desired highway.

I had no such luck.

Eventually, I stopped at a roadside store/campsite to ask if I was on the right highway. She assured me I was not but comforted me in the fact that I was not alone. A lot of people made this same mistake. She showed me a map, told me to "turn left at Grandora". I was pretty sure she meant "right" but then again, I very often get maps confused unless north is aligned with north and I'm standing in the right direction to get my bearings. So I decided not to trust my instincts because when it comes to directions and instincts I am always 100% wrong.

So when I passed Grandora and there was no "left", I just kept heading straight. One hour after I had left our house, I was back at the city limits, trying to exit one more time.

I just about went home to consult with Google maps but I thought I would take a chance on a main road that was headed in the direction I thought I wanted to go. There were NO highway signs to direct me. I just followed my instinct and this time, my instinct was right. Sometime shortly thereafter, I found the road sign I was looking for and I knew I was on my way.

Delayed a half hour by my unruly hair and another hour, trying to leave the city I was quite frazzled and none too happy about this development. All I could think was I was grateful I had enjoyed my quiet, leisurely morning at home. That was about all that was grounding me. Then I started to lighten up and thought, "I got to enjoy an extra hour of my familiar radio station" before I hit radio silence.

I lost my radio station shortly thereafter and let the radio search for a station. It took about a half hour before I heard music again.

I stopped and regained my bearings and composure three hours later. I wasted an hour of fuel trying to find my highway so I didn't trust that I had enough gas to get me to my destination. Nothing grounds me better than stopping at McDonald's and eating my Saturday morning consolation prize for "doing hard things" - an Egg McMuffin meal.

Three hours after I left the house, I finally took a deep, long breath and enjoyed the ride.

Radio silence is a wonderful thing. I started thinking thoughts and actually followed the thought through to its end. I made goals for myself. I thought outside my box. I reminisced about the last time I took this highway and the memory filled holiday I enjoyed with my youngest son.

I simply enjoyed the process of thinking complete thoughts. My brain has become like a pinball machine. "Ping!" "Ping!" "Ping!", one thought bounces into the next and deflects the original thought and morphs into something unrecognizable. I have become childlike in my inability to concentrate and settle into one activity or thought process. I believe my daycare career has brought out an attention deficit disorder within me.

I savored the miles where I got to feel like the "me" I used to be when I sat still with my thoughts. Something good is happening here.

 I went from "THIS ... is why I hate going places and taking new roads! I hate feeling lost in the world!!" to "I NEED to get out more and take new roads. It feels good to find your way again after losing yourself".

That was really the theme of the weekend past. I know I need to push myself out of this comfortable little space in the world I've built for myself. I'm suffocating a little bit here but at the same time this "safe place to land" is everything in the world to me.

My friend, who I just met up with, is just coming out of the other side of a devastating time of great change. She is walking through the doors that have been opening up and finding her way in her new world. She confessed that when she thinks too hard and too long about "where she is going to end up", it is terrifying. But she is taking one brave step in front of the other and building herself up as she makes her way.

She challenged me to do the same. "Do one thing out of your comfort zone" was one of the three challenges she put before me to help push me out and beyond of this comfortable spot I am living in.

The weekend past was uncomfortable in a comfortable sort of way. Yes, I took a wrong road (twice). But I didn't quit. I didn't go home to regain my bearings. I stayed on the wrong path long enough to find the right one. I didn't give up. In the end, I trusted my instincts and I found my way.

Maybe it's time I set out on a few more new adventures. Not all of them have to involve new highways, but maybe I can make myself uncomfortable right here from the safety of home.

I'm too tired to pursue that thought at the moment but this moment will pass. When it does, I'm ready. I'm ready to step outside my comfort zone. One new road at a time.

The Need to be Heard

I had not yet completed my on-line course with Brené Brown when I found myself acting more courageously than I have in a very long time.

Life handed me the greatest "Living Brave" graduation gift. I don't know if it would have happened on its own or if came from a deep desire to "write my own ending" but I did it. I walked into the arena where I fought the battle that brought me to my knees and I "lost". That was almost five years ago and the scar tissue still stung every time I walked by that battleground.

I walked into that building with the intent of talking to the people who made a positive impact while I was working there. Their office was closed and the building was almost vacant because everyone was in meetings and they were basically closed for business. The only staff member I saw was working in the office that "almost did me in".

I bravely walked through that door, with the intent of asking her to pass along my thanks to the department which made a lasting impression on me and helped me know which way to turn when the events in my life headed me down a path where I needed to turn to that very department in another location.

What happened instead was a conversation about my experience working in "that office". She asked the questions. I just answered them. I was careful with my words and summarized my story in three sentences. She knew everything I wasn't saying and she validated that others have walked my path and she was walking it at that very moment. That validation, the knowing eyes and her statement that a lot of good people have left because of a situation she has been trying to fight (but not succeeding) gave me all I needed to write my new ending. I had already "written" it in my mind before I walked through that door but there was more truth to it after facing my fears, walking through that door and having that conversation.

I had taken all I could learn from this past experience and moved on. But the way I felt each and every time I walked by this place of business told me my work here was not done. Not the way my heart lurched, my breath became shallow and I could feel the angst I felt while I was employed there.

I took this lesson and wrote about it within my "Living Brave" course. I wrote a new ending, as Brené puts it. I didn't spin a tale, I just made it more about the fact that this workplace would have dragged me under and took me down if I would have stayed. And I would have stayed if that had been an option. But it wasn't. Thank goodness!

As I wrote my new ending and focused on the fact that I needed to be removed from the line of fire, I reheard the actual conversation that took place when I was asked to "resign from this position". I was told this was the best move for me. Perhaps not in the words I needed to hear but I don't think I heard anything beyond "You will not pass your probation if you stay". "I failed. I was terrible. This was unjust. I wasn't given a fair chance! I FAILED!!", was all I heard as I rewound the tape and recalled the anxiety I lived during that time.

This was almost five years ago. Five YEARS. And I hadn't completely let go of the emotion. Even though I knew better. Even though I talked my way through, out and beyond this. Even though my head knew better, my heart started beating to the beat of anxiousness each and every time I walked past this building

Then I walked back in. Someone asked me to tell them my story. They asked! My story has been told. My words have been released at the scene of the crime and no one went down.

Sometimes that is all we really need. To be heard. To be validated. We cannot always return to the the place where our lives were broken, but when we can and when we can put a voice to the wounds of our past, it is life affirming.

"Yes, that was harsh and unfair. I hear you." This conversation changed my heart. I believe the scar tissue can begin to heal now.