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The Waters Deep

Swim to the top. Dance on the waves!

Energy Bucks

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Every day we wake up with Energy Bucks and we start spending them the second we put our feet on the floor.

Making Coffee, 5 Bucks.   Brushing Teeth, 5 Bucks.  Getting Dressed, 10 Bucks.  Reading emails, 40 Bucks.  Trying on that pair of jeans you know won’t fit.  Boom.  Out of Energy Bucks.

I figure I have about 100 Energy Bucks for the day.  Most days I’ve spent that before noon.

I used to just pretend to myself that I had more Energy than I did.  I’d march forward like a martyr on a mission.  I had tasks to complete and people to make happy.   Pushing myself through the day with a ‘can do’ attitude.  Waiting for that “second wind”, that usually came just before bedtime.

Until I just couldn’t anymore.  When my Mom died my legs got kicked out from under me and my brain said, “No More. We’re empty.  Rest Me and we’ll start fresh in about 6 months”.  

I had to start counting my Energy bucks and using them wisely.

I learned what ‘cost’ me and how to decide what I needed to say No to.

I started to find ways to add to my Energy Bank by doing things that fulfilled me.  Yoga.  Meditation. Drinking Water.  Consciously breathing.  Journaling.  Stopping to listen to a favorite song, the whole thing, not just blips as I ran around the house cleaning.

 Five minutes with the sun on my face.  Feeling Gratitude.  Really taking the time to close my eyes and FEEL it.  Send the message to every cell.

I create and prioritize the time to take care of myself.  Every day.  Because not only do I deserve it, I need it.

No one can run on empty forever.

Reflections of our past & future self

Through loss I am born.

Looking down from the past

 

I wonder if we could  look at our lives forward and backwards at the same time, what would we do or have done differently.  Everything or Nothing?

What about me.  What can I do differently?  What can I let go of?

I can let go of the person I was before my parents died.  I am different now.  Through the grief, I can feel this spark in my soul, to be Free.  

I’ve been dragging my past around like a ball and chain.  Holding on to relationships & behaviors that  no longer serve me and haven’t since I was a child.

I am Free.

To choose to let go of the beginning.  To be thankful for it. To embrace the person it has lead me to be.

Everything is perfect.  Forward and Backwards.

 

 

 

Mothers Day

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Relationships are complicated

For me, None more than this one

With one hand you held on tightly

with the other, you shoved me away

Confusion, Hurt, Anger, Love, Fear

They all became one emotion

Tangled up so deeply I couldn’t see the difference

Your demons and pain took you on a dark opiate-laced path

I watched you slowly die for 20 years

That last day, when you said that you loved me

Almost erased all the other times when you didn’t

You said that you were sorry

And I forgave you

Now I need to forgive me

I need to untangle all the feelings

The anger is gone, in its place is a deep sadness

The finality of death, is shocking

We ran out of time

I wish you were here

So I could tell you everything I’ve learned since you died.

There’s so much.

I love you Mom.

.

You can’t pray it away

Old deserted House

So she’s not dead.  I thought she was when I first walked in.   Slumped over in the frame of the chair, her body motionless and grey.  Empty, like a dilapidated building, once filled with Life.  Where beauty still lingered but only because of Memories that you imagine might have happened there once.

 It strangely hurt my heart more than I had prepared myself for it to hurt, even after all the years of practicing for the inevitable.

Almost 20 years of Prescription Pills and Alcohol.  Each overdose somehow coming as a surprise.  It’s been ‘Food Poisoning’, ‘A stroke’, ‘The Flu’,  a multitude of ailments that we all know aren’t real but no one has the energy to call out.  Again.

I’ve felt like I was standing in some kind of Fog or Mist Horror Story, where no one was willing to admit there was a Monster lurking.  Only me.  Every time I screamed ‘Monster’ another member of the family would disown me.  How dare I be so disrespectful.  Those are ‘good’ people.  ‘Great Friends’.  God Bless them and we’ll pray for them.

They lived in a beautiful perfect home that could have been put together by Martha Stewart herself.  Not anymore.  The money is gone.  Not even enough to finish the small cabin in the woods they are trying to build.  Sleeping on a mattress without sheets and sitting on camp chairs by the woodstove, which is their only source of heat.  Walls and ceiling half finished.  A pantry full of canned Pork & Beans and soup.  A refrigerator full of nothing but beer and wine, no real food.  A washing machine full of folded clothes and shoes, because at some point there was major confusion on how to do a load of laundry.

We talked about it in secret, when no one else was listening because no one else wanted to hear it.  No one wanted to clean up that mess.  In all fairness maybe no one knew how.

You don’t pray away an Opioid & Alcohol addiction.  You don’t sober them up with coffee and a couple AA meetings, or apparently 22 years of them either.  That Monster just lingers in the Mist waiting for the door to be opened.  Waiting for its friend Death to join him at the Party.

This time though, it brought me and my sisters into a room, together, for the first time in 20 years and we all were in agreement on how to proceed.  We left the elephant back at the shack.  We locked arms around the Tree of Life and we talked about being Sisters and we imagined what that might mean now.

We had an amazing shift, where Love was shared.  THAT was a beautiful and unexpected gift.

Thoughts

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My granddaughter tells me that she wishes she could have a different brain because hers does things she doesn’t like.

Especially when she’s trying to fall asleep.  She tells it to be quiet and it just keeps thinking about things like  Monsters and the Little Dinosaur that fell into the raging river.  Then she gets all sad and can’t sleep because her brain won’t listen to her and it never stops thinking scary thoughts.

She is pounding her little fists on her forehead as she tells me this.

I can absolutely relate.

 

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