I Have No Idea

So many thoughts....  I'm not sure where to begin or where I will end up....  Sometimes it's best not to think, just write....

I've finally started the end.  Or, maybe more accurately, I've started the new beginning.  For years and years, I've tried.  I've tried to let go of the parts of my past that impacted me in such negative ways.  I made a ton of progress.  I had even reached a place of contentment in my life.  And after the ways I had been feeling, contentment felt like a victory.

But over time, I have realized that I deserve more than contentment.  We all do.  The difference is, I think I have the power within myself to move to that next level--the level of possible happiness.

I've taken the next step.  I met with someone who could help me find that power.  I've had the conversation with the person/people who are preventing me from that next step.  I've even packed away memories of times that seemed like happiness, but were not real.

It's been a hard day, but one that was needed.  I gave into it.  I cancelled my plans, I did what I needed for myself, and I relaxed.  I took a moment here and there to mourn what I have always known.  And while it caused me to feel sad in unexpected ways, I know that what I am doing is for the best.

And tonight, I sit on my deck.  I'm alone, but I'm surrounded by flowers and lights.  And that's the way it should be.  You see, I have discovered that I can be my own light.  My own inspiration.  The knowledge that while I need people in my life, I can be my own source of strength to keep moving forward.  And the flowers, well, they are the beauty of my world.  They are the reminder that beauty and grace and life are all around me.  I just need to remember to look up once in awhile. 

I've reached the end of this post.  Normally, I have some idea of what I might say as I send my thoughts through my keyboard and put that in my title. Tonight was different. Tonight was just a moment where I allowed my fingertips to take me where I needed to go.  I won't reread it.  I won't edit it.  I'll just send it out knowing it is the unedited and honest version of myself and where I am in this moment.

And in this moment, I am content, but optimistic....

Through My Own Eyes

Warning:  Those who love me most should not read this--that includes you, Mom!

Many, many changes happening in my heart these days.  From the outside, every thing is exactly as it's always been.  Hard working,  dedicated to those I love, willing to do all I can to help others.

But inside, I'm changing.  It started with a trip to the doctor's office where she and I agreed that I needed help.  Just something that would help me sleep and help me enjoy life again.  It took several trips and some tears before we got it right.  But I was blessed with a doctor who understood me and even told me she had the same struggles.  She listened without judgment. She didn't look at the clock even once as I was telling her my story.  She made me feel like the most important patient of the day despite having many others to see that day.

So I left with the medication.  And it did what it was supposed to do.  But it had a side effect that wasn't on the warning label--clarity.  The clarity to see all the things I had successfully hidden from myself.  

Most of the issues were no big deal.  Yeah, my dad left me and filled me with empty promises, but I had my moment of closure on that not so long ago.  And it's true I spent way too much of my life trying to become their image of me instead of who I am, but I've turned that around, too. 

But it's the mirror that is my biggest struggle.  I avoid my reflection because I don't like what I see.  And I know in my heart that it's ridiculous.  One's outer image should not reflect who they truly are, but, for me it's hard. 

I'm not some hideous creature. I know this.  But every glimpse in the mirror causes those feelings of....well I don't even know how to say it.  Just tremendous self-consciousness I guess.  Those feelings of not being enough..  Those feelings of just not being enough. 

I would like to blame society,  but in all honesty, there is no one to blame.  At some point. I just became so uncomfortable with myself that it was easier to hide behind the ideas of what others thought I should be.  I chose that.  I allowed that. 

So, when I look at the mirror and cringe, I know it's a part of the process.  It's so much easier to look at myself through the eyes of others.  Facing myself in the mirror hurts, but it hurts because I'm truly seeing myself for the first time.  And it's scary.  It's understandable that the process of seeing myself through my own eyes is going to take time and is going to hurt for awhile.  And it's going to take time. 

But today, I know this:  I am truly awesome at what I do and would sacrifice all that I have for the kids in my classroom.  I have the four most amazing nieces and nephew that somehow see what I wish I could see in myself.  And I have a body that society doesn't appreciate but allows me to do all that I wish to do.  I can play on the floor with five year olds.  I can haul sets and scenery with middle school students.  I can make it through a day where I encounter 120 students without giving up and sitting down.

And while I'm still struggling with those self image issues, I have started on the path.  My brown eyes that I thought were inferior to my brother's brilliant blue eyes, are actually pools of warmth and hidden wisdom.  It's not much, but it's a start. 

And I know this has to be my process.  Those that love me simply love me for being me.  And that is important.  Let's face it, most of those people think that I'm pretty close to perfect.  I just hope I can see myself the way they see me--someday.

If She Only Knew

Many, many years ago, an elementary education student took the path less traveled by those in her major and signed up for Advanced Techniques in Composition.  She soon found herself in a room full of English majors.  It was intimidating to be sure, but things just got worse.  Due to sleep issues that made punctuality a challenge, the professor advised her to drop the class.  Most of her opinion papers represented the opposite of her professor's point of view.  And then there were the page requirements.  It didn't matter what the minimum page requirement for an assignment was, chances were Miss Elementary Education Major was going to be one to two pages short. 

And somewhere along the way, she swayed the professor.  The professor was surprised that she kept showing up to class instead of dropping the class.  The professor appreciated that she could support her argument even if the professor didn't agree.  Most shocking, Miss Elementary Education Major had a meeting with the professor and was told that the minimum page requirements didn't apply to her.  Apparently, she had the ability "to take subject matter and put it into its simplest form without losing its complexity."  Furthermore, Miss Elementary Education Major should consider becoming and English because she "would never use her talents in an elementary school."

Well, Miss Elementary Education Major is an elementary teacher.  She had written countless forms of communication for a variety of reasons and is currently trying to write three plays involving kids fourth through eighth.   If that professor only knew how much those skills get used....

And while I'm looking her up, maybe I'll have a talk with that history professor who tried to convince me to become a history major as well....

Voices

When one starts a blog, they typically spend time considering the name of their blog.  It should have some kind of meaning.  I went a different route.  I typed in the first thing that popped into my head.  I didn't think about it.  I didn't give it a second thought.  I just typed and off I went.

Who knew the meaning of my blog title would come to me years later.

The Shel Silverstein poem found me.  I wasn't reading a book of poems.  I wasn't looking for inspiration.  I was bored and trying to find reasons to avoid the work I should be doing.  And this appeared. 

That's when it all clicked.  I have always had voices in my head.  Many, many voices.  They have been the voices of people I loved.  They have been the voices of people I respected.  They have been the voices of authority.  And, more times than not, they have been the voices of those who have judged me and pointed out all of my flaws. 

I listened to all of these voices.  It became a constant battle.  I tried to silence the voices by becoming what they expected me to be.  When decisions had to be made, I searched for the "right" voice to guide me. 

And one day, I realized I was missing the most important voice.  My own.  In an attempt to keep people happy, I listened to the other voices.  I had done this for so long that I wasn't even sure I could hear my own voice anymore.

After so many years of listening to the voices in my head, it's hard to listen to my own.  I make decisions and am immediately met with questions from the other voices.  But I'm ready to find my voice.  There will be mistakes.  There will be people who think I'm wrong.  And that has to be ok.  Because it's time for me to "just listen to the voice that speaks inside."

Christmas Dinner for One--and I'm OK with That

It's Christmas.  It's a time for family.  It's a time for friends.  It's a time for tradition. 

The world we live in puts so much pressure on any holiday season--especially Christmas.  I bought into it for a long time.  Following my parents' divorce, I remember putting up the family Christmas tree by myself on Thanksgiving night.  It was tradition to put it up on that day, so I did it. 

And then there were the years where my brother and actually had six Christmas celebrations in a 24 hour period.  We were overwhelmed and shell-shocked, but we put on a happy face for everyone.  After all, that is what we were supposed to do.

I spent countless Christmas dinners with a friend's family. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but I did it because I wasn't supposed to be by myself on Christmas day.  I did these things (and many more) because that was what I was supposed to do.  I was going through the motions, but they didn't make me happy. 

I tried.  I really tried to fit into the standards society set for me.  I tried to make myself fit into the mold, but it didn't work. I didn't fit and I wasn't any happier for trying.

Christmas (whether you are religious person or not) should be a happy time.  It's so easy to get wrapped up in the things that society thinks you should do or thinks you should be or thinks you should have.  But why?  Why do we feel like the holidays are some kind of measuring device that determines where we fit according to society's standards.

For me, Christmas has become a time where I get the chance to reflect on the blessings in my life.  While I may not measure up to what the world expects of me, I am truly humbled by how truly blessed I am.  I have an incredibly wacky family that doesn't necessarily make sense to others, but loves me no matter what.  I have three beautiful, compassionate, and funny nieces.  I have a nephew who starts planning a Christmas Eve lunch with me 24 hours in advance.  I have a home that keeps me warm and is my safe haven.  I have friends who understand me and like me anyway. I have many, many outlets for my creative spirit.   And I have a healthy body that continues to serve me despite not being treated the way it should be.

So this evening, I will be having a turkey dinner for one.  I will get out my favorite dishes and open a bottle of my favorite wine for the occasion.  I will give thanks for all that this year has provided me.  I will send out my hopes and dreams and wishes.  And I will go to bed content with the life I am living today and dreams of what the future may have in store for me.

And that is enough.  That is more than enough.

GUMPTION--AGAIN

It's that time of year again.  Time for my favorite movie to make it's way to the top of my list of movies to watch and for me to revisit all those important lessons.

Now, since this is the third time this movie has been the subject of a post on this blog, I should probably reveal its title.  The Holiday!  Yes, my friends, my favorite movie is The Holiday.  I realize that there are hundreds of Christmas themed movies that could, and probably should, have a greater impact on my life, but they have paled in comparison.

The movie is the story of two very different women in two different countries.  But it is so much more than a movie.  If you look at the storyline of Iris, you pretty much have the screenplay of my life!  Sure, the names and situations have been changed, but it's me on the screen.  Those that know me best instantly see the similarities in our situations.  Our heroine is not very heroic at the beginning.  She is filled with the kind of hope that blinds her to the reality of her situation.  And then reality comes and smacks her upside the head--big time.

Really, it's all about gumption!  It's about finding your gumption.  It's about seeing gumption in others.  It's about using your gumption.  It's about holding on to you gumption.

And it's exactly what I need on days like today when I'm questioning my gumption. 

Changes

Things change everyday.  Little moments here and there.  So small that we don't even notice them.

But then there are the big changes.  Those momentous decisions that actually change who you are.  It's hard.  It's scary.  But you step forward, hope for the best, and move forward.

Going forward is hard.  At first you just go through the motions as you determine if the decision you made was right.  And then those changes come to life.  You begin to see a difference in yourself.  You begin to feel stronger.  You begin to believe in yourself again.  You begin to believe that things are going to be ok.

But there are casualties.  There are those who can't or won't move forward with you.  It's unfair, in their eyes, that you changed the game.  You are no longer the same person you were.  You now have different expectations and different boundaries.  And while you know the changes are for the best, these people try to hold you back.

And so, there becomes a point in time where you have to become selfish.  You don't want to hurt others, but being held back hurts you.  You keep communicating.  You keep trying to help them understand.  You give them time.  But you have to be true to yourself.