This year's birthday was different for me. Instead of celebrating me, I celebrated others in my life. Yeah, this isn't what birthdays are meant to be, is it? It's supposed to be a day of celebrating the one who was born that day. I didn't plan my birthday this way but it happened the way it happened. I didn't plan it out this way and you know what? It was the best birthday I've ever had.
It started the night before when I was chatting with a friend who was feeling really down. To lift her spirits, we planned a breakfast date - it just happened to be on my birthday. We had a great time - ate great food and chatted up a storm. We even had more company when another friend jogged by doing her Saturday morning excercise routine. (It felt like a party to me - this party was the best because only I knew it was a party. Sounds strange, but that's the best part for me.) Breakfast was very, very good and exactly the way I wanted to start my birthday. I didn't bring up my birthday because I wanted our time to be about her and me, not me. If she knew it was my birthday on her own accord, that would've been fine but I was glad she didn't because this way the breakfast was about celebrating our friendship and not my birthday.
As for the other friend who jaunted by our breakfast date, she didn't know it was my birthday either. I saw her again later that night when I dropped the boys off to sleepover. She gave me a big birthday hug and admonished me for not telling her. I told her that I didn't want to because I didn't need to.
The highlight of my birthday was what I did to D. You see, his birthday was 10 days earlier than mine. It was his 50th but he was in Chicago on his 50th birthday so there was no way to do anything special for him on his BIG day. To celebrate his BIG day, I planned a surprise dinner with his childhood buddies - men who have been friends for over 40 years. None of them were from the city so this took some coordinating. Emails, phone calls and text messages abounded but plans got set up to meet at Ichiumi on August 14, 2010 at 7pm to surprise D. They were so excited to be coming all together in NYC for the first time ever - yeah, this was the first time ever the whole gang was getting together in NYC. Some I had never met so I was excited to meet the men my husband grew up with. This was going to be a good night.
D is difficult. I knew that the only way to get him to do what I wanted to do, especially go to dinner to a restaurant of my choice without consulting him, could only happen on my day - my birthday. The day was stressful and hilarious. All day he was grumpy and dragging his feet. He never even wished me a happy birthday - :(. In fact, he was surprised that we were going out for "my" birthday. I thought I had mentioned numerous times that we were going out to dinner to celebrate "my" birthday but I guess I wasn't clear enough - did he need a personalized engraved invitation? Even our boys knew (about dinner plans, not the surprise for D - they would've have wrecked what I had been working on for weeks - I mean, they are only kids) and they were excited. When he finally got it that we were going out to celebrate "my" birthday, he became even grumpier. Reluctantly he showered but then put on the most wrinkled t-shirt he could find and cargo shorts. Meanwhile I had gotten me and the boys looking pretty nice (of course, I knew who we were seeing). When I suggested that D put on a polo shirt, he barked back, "What's wrong with this shirt?" So I left it alone.
We drove in silence to the restaurant. I went up to the desk and asked about the Jeannie party and the hostess looked at my with that "oh yeah" sort of look pointing up to the back and left. You see, I even told the restaurant that it was a surprise and asked them to set up our party in a way so that D wouldn't be able to see who was coming to dinner until the last minute. This set him off even more because he was dreading that it was such a big dinner party for me that reservations had to be set. He started to really drag his feet and basically grumble under his breath. Well, let's say the surprise really worked. We turned the corner, and as promised, his buddies were there. It took D a minute to realize who was really there since these were the last people on earth he expected to see at "my" birthday dinner. My hard work paid off because I really, really got my husband and he was humbled, the least to say. Happy to be with men who grew up together through everything and continue to stay connected. The night was all about him and he gave me a hard time getting him there. Oh well, that's the man I love and continue to love. And oh yeah, they did notice he was in a t-shirt.
Yeah, it's a very odd and strange way to celebrate one's birthday - celebrating others when it is the one day of the year designated for you. It's the one day of the year when you're actually permitted to be completely, shamelessly, utterly selfish. But you know what? I celebrated my birthday this way because my cup was overflowing. My life is in such a blessed place that instead of having to celebrate me on my birthday, I celebrated others and the relationships in my life. I know this is a rare privilege and phenomena, and I don't know if it's going to happen again. I hope it can and will because it's a good thing. It means life is good. Let's see what happens next year....
24.7.10
La Luna
This is not a time to be afraid - doors are opening now and it's time to walk through them. Our world is in a state of terrible dysfunction and a rebalancing is necessary. Any fears and areas of discomfort that arise now are emerging so that they can be seen for the shadows that they are rather than the experiences of reality that we believe them to be.
The planetary events in June will teach us, if we allow them to, what is real and true in our lives and what is illusion. In order to achieve this we need to accelerate our spiritual practice and learn to maintain presence and breathe through any situation that we encounter. The flow of breath through our bodies is the anchor that links us to our higher self and assists in the transition into the higher realms.
In my opinion, this month is the peak of the intensity. Let's approach it as an opportunity to break through barriers of mind and body, and to allow our higher selves and guides to facilitate real transformation now.
from "Capricorn Full Moon eclipse June 26, complete with Grand Cross"
http://blog.beliefnet.com/astrologicalmusings/2010/06/capricorn-full-moon-eclipse-ju.html
*******************************************************************
Another full moon is upon us. I thought things would have settled by now - the world would be calmer, my friends and family in a better place, my future mapped out. Yeah, things are better, but they are nowhere near "settled." In fact, things seem to be more complicated.
You see, during the last full moon, a rare and strange phenomena occurred where the moon, stars and planets aligned in what some astrologists call a grand cross. This planet is doing something in opposition to the other planet. This star is doing something to that star and so on. Nothing was where it was supposed to be in relation to the other thing. Too complicated for this mind. I posted the link to the article about this above. Interesting but I couldn't go beyond the first paragraph. What did catch me and has stayed with me was the last 3 paragraphs of this article. That I included here because they speaks volumes to me.
In May and June, friends and I noticed that things were weird for a while - people were making unusual choices, the earth was literally falling apart (let's not forget the oil well catastrophe in the Gulf) - it just felt plain crazy. Well, one person told me about this strange astrological phenomena which led another to find this article. I thought, "Aaaah, that explains it. And according to the article, June is the most intense peak of the madness."
It's been intense. So much has happened in one month. I have discovered truths about myself that opened me up. Letting go of Z was a huge step. Because of that, my soul has opened up and I can breathe better. It's so strange how the relationship between Z and I has shifted even though I have said absolutely nothing to him directly about letting go. Somehow he knows that things have shifted. In the last month, he insists on holding my hand whenever we're out - even trying to hang on while we walk through a crowd or down the stairs. It's as if he knows that I've let him go and he's afraid that I've completely let him go. I'll never let him completely go. I just needed to loosen the tie so that he can grow and I can grow. Now is a time of adjustment on how we can be mother and son in this next phase of our lives. Sweet - but oh so frustrating at times.
I'm witnessing how friends and family members are struggling to work their way through this time of adjustment. It's creepy but we can reflect on the oil spill in the Gulf to teach us something about ourselves. There are so many lessons to be learned. Right now, BP and our government and agencies are madly struggling to cap that oil well in the Gulf. It's almost as if that mess is a metaphor for what we as individuals are going through. As huge as the mess is, the clean-up is huger. The madness of the mess is that it could have been avoided. How? Simply by being honest about how vulnerable the well is, how shortcuts were being taken so a bigger profit could be made, and so on. This disaster was caused by people being selfish and self-serving - make the most money however and whatever it takes with disregard for lives and ultimately, creation. It could have been avoided by just simply being truthful and respectful. Sounds like us, no?
Be truthful and respectful to yourself, others around you and ultimately, creation. It's simple yet so complex.
I'm not a believer of astrology but the grand cross phenomena has caused me to wake up. Perhaps the moons, planets and stars are determining our paths and we should keep track of them? That's too simple. I can't blame the moon, stars and planets for my choices. I, and I alone, am responsible for my actions - and the consequences. It's scary and overwhelming. Especially when you're not sure if your actions are going to reap joys and rewards, or pain and punishment, or a combination. The worst is when we can't see clearly enough to see our own actions and what possible consequences come along with them, so then we make bad choices for ourselves and others around us. That's one of our greatest gift. Making choices. Free will.
So as we continue through this time of adjustment - which really never ends - just heightened for me because of the grand cross, I'm more conscious to be reflective about the choices I make. No, I don't pine over my outfit everyday, concerned about how that choice will affect me. But I do pause to reflect on how my choices will affect my future, and also, turn around to reflect on what I've done and figure out what could be done about some regretful choices to change those consequences. Lots to be done. It's so exciting. May we all be blessed in this journey called "My Life."
The planetary events in June will teach us, if we allow them to, what is real and true in our lives and what is illusion. In order to achieve this we need to accelerate our spiritual practice and learn to maintain presence and breathe through any situation that we encounter. The flow of breath through our bodies is the anchor that links us to our higher self and assists in the transition into the higher realms.
In my opinion, this month is the peak of the intensity. Let's approach it as an opportunity to break through barriers of mind and body, and to allow our higher selves and guides to facilitate real transformation now.
from "Capricorn Full Moon eclipse June 26, complete with Grand Cross"
http://blog.beliefnet.com/astrologicalmusings/2010/06/capricorn-full-moon-eclipse-ju.html
*******************************************************************
Another full moon is upon us. I thought things would have settled by now - the world would be calmer, my friends and family in a better place, my future mapped out. Yeah, things are better, but they are nowhere near "settled." In fact, things seem to be more complicated.
You see, during the last full moon, a rare and strange phenomena occurred where the moon, stars and planets aligned in what some astrologists call a grand cross. This planet is doing something in opposition to the other planet. This star is doing something to that star and so on. Nothing was where it was supposed to be in relation to the other thing. Too complicated for this mind. I posted the link to the article about this above. Interesting but I couldn't go beyond the first paragraph. What did catch me and has stayed with me was the last 3 paragraphs of this article. That I included here because they speaks volumes to me.
In May and June, friends and I noticed that things were weird for a while - people were making unusual choices, the earth was literally falling apart (let's not forget the oil well catastrophe in the Gulf) - it just felt plain crazy. Well, one person told me about this strange astrological phenomena which led another to find this article. I thought, "Aaaah, that explains it. And according to the article, June is the most intense peak of the madness."
It's been intense. So much has happened in one month. I have discovered truths about myself that opened me up. Letting go of Z was a huge step. Because of that, my soul has opened up and I can breathe better. It's so strange how the relationship between Z and I has shifted even though I have said absolutely nothing to him directly about letting go. Somehow he knows that things have shifted. In the last month, he insists on holding my hand whenever we're out - even trying to hang on while we walk through a crowd or down the stairs. It's as if he knows that I've let him go and he's afraid that I've completely let him go. I'll never let him completely go. I just needed to loosen the tie so that he can grow and I can grow. Now is a time of adjustment on how we can be mother and son in this next phase of our lives. Sweet - but oh so frustrating at times.
I'm witnessing how friends and family members are struggling to work their way through this time of adjustment. It's creepy but we can reflect on the oil spill in the Gulf to teach us something about ourselves. There are so many lessons to be learned. Right now, BP and our government and agencies are madly struggling to cap that oil well in the Gulf. It's almost as if that mess is a metaphor for what we as individuals are going through. As huge as the mess is, the clean-up is huger. The madness of the mess is that it could have been avoided. How? Simply by being honest about how vulnerable the well is, how shortcuts were being taken so a bigger profit could be made, and so on. This disaster was caused by people being selfish and self-serving - make the most money however and whatever it takes with disregard for lives and ultimately, creation. It could have been avoided by just simply being truthful and respectful. Sounds like us, no?
Be truthful and respectful to yourself, others around you and ultimately, creation. It's simple yet so complex.
I'm not a believer of astrology but the grand cross phenomena has caused me to wake up. Perhaps the moons, planets and stars are determining our paths and we should keep track of them? That's too simple. I can't blame the moon, stars and planets for my choices. I, and I alone, am responsible for my actions - and the consequences. It's scary and overwhelming. Especially when you're not sure if your actions are going to reap joys and rewards, or pain and punishment, or a combination. The worst is when we can't see clearly enough to see our own actions and what possible consequences come along with them, so then we make bad choices for ourselves and others around us. That's one of our greatest gift. Making choices. Free will.
So as we continue through this time of adjustment - which really never ends - just heightened for me because of the grand cross, I'm more conscious to be reflective about the choices I make. No, I don't pine over my outfit everyday, concerned about how that choice will affect me. But I do pause to reflect on how my choices will affect my future, and also, turn around to reflect on what I've done and figure out what could be done about some regretful choices to change those consequences. Lots to be done. It's so exciting. May we all be blessed in this journey called "My Life."
19.7.10
Going to a funeral
Tomorrow I'm going to a funeral alone. I'll be attending the funeral of Andrew Raiford. He's a complete stranger to me. His family doesn't know me but I know them and that's why I'm going. You see, his father and mother, Dwight and Iris Raiford are the founders of the Harlem Little League. This couple was bold in their vision to set up a baseball program as a tool to enrich the lives of children in Harlem. We all know that Harlem is a hurtin' community that doesn't get the support it deserves. This league has made a difference in the lives of hundreds of children and their family, the league made a difference in our lives. So I'm going to honor Mr. and Mrs. Raiford because they're going to need all the support they can get to get through this. Perhaps my presence will make a difference, perhaps not. It doesn't matter.
This death is tragic. Andrew didn't die from cancer, or an accident where the cause of death is clear. The funeral announcement didn't mention cause of death so my friend probed a little and we were stunned. Andrew committed suicide. I can only imagine what his parents must be going through. Here they've been able to save so many young lives but their own son died. There are many reasons for suicide. Perhaps it could've been that he was medically depressed so this was his fate that no one - no one, not even his parents - could save him from. It doesn't matter why. Two loving parents lost their son under tragic circumstances last week.
The first funeral of my life was my maternal grandfather when I was just 1 year old. I don't remember it - don't even know if I attended. He sucumbed to his illness and passed away. Since then I've been to numerous funerals. The earlier ones were for people whom I had a direct relationship with - my boss and mentor who died from stomach cancer leaving behind a wife and 2 young children, my maternal grandmother whom K was blessed to have barely met before she died from pancreatic cancer. The more recent funerals were actually for people I didn't know but I knew the living - my girlfriend and mentor whose father passed away from old age, another friend whose aunt who raised her passed away from medical complications.
No death is easy to swallow nor should it be swallowed so easily. Remember 9/11? That had a huge impact on all of our lives. On 9/11, D was 5 blocks away from the towers when they collapsed. We were lucky, very lucky. D could've been in the towers since he did frequent business there but on this morning he was tucked away safely in his office. I considered myself lucky that I didn't know anyone directly who had died in the towers. Sad for all those lives lost but feeling lucky that I didn't know any of those faces intimately. That changed 3 years ago. I met one of my former youth group students who at this point was a man. I was concerned that he looked so haggard, out of sorts - something wasn't right with him. I asked about his brother and that's when he looked at me puzzled, asking if I didn't know that he had died in the towers. My heart broke - I cursed God for taking away this privilege of not knowing anyone who died that day. Now I cannot remember that day without thinking of the brother who died. But moreso, I think about the brother who lived. The brother whose shoulders are now weighed down being the only child left living for his parents, the brother who lost a brother so tragically, the brother whose face is etched with the scars and wounds of this event, the brother who lives this with tragedy in his heart, the brother whose life is forever changed by this event.
You see, I used to think funerals were a time to pay respect to the dead. Now I know it's really more about paying respect to the living. They are the ones who have to live on with the memory of the one who passed. They have to keep on living in spite of the pain. And the worst kind of pain happens when you question if the death could've been prevented or at least delayed. It's not fair. What could I have done? Why didn't they just talk to me? Did I miss a sign? So many questions that will never have answers nor do I think they are answerable.
The pain is deep for the living and the healing process is long and hard. It's in those times, they need to be surrounded by the love of their family, friends and community. This is why, though I'm a stranger to the Raifords, I will be going to Andrew's funeral alone. Of course, you're welcome to come but I won't invite you. I'm going alone to pay my respect to the dead, and the living.
This death is tragic. Andrew didn't die from cancer, or an accident where the cause of death is clear. The funeral announcement didn't mention cause of death so my friend probed a little and we were stunned. Andrew committed suicide. I can only imagine what his parents must be going through. Here they've been able to save so many young lives but their own son died. There are many reasons for suicide. Perhaps it could've been that he was medically depressed so this was his fate that no one - no one, not even his parents - could save him from. It doesn't matter why. Two loving parents lost their son under tragic circumstances last week.
The first funeral of my life was my maternal grandfather when I was just 1 year old. I don't remember it - don't even know if I attended. He sucumbed to his illness and passed away. Since then I've been to numerous funerals. The earlier ones were for people whom I had a direct relationship with - my boss and mentor who died from stomach cancer leaving behind a wife and 2 young children, my maternal grandmother whom K was blessed to have barely met before she died from pancreatic cancer. The more recent funerals were actually for people I didn't know but I knew the living - my girlfriend and mentor whose father passed away from old age, another friend whose aunt who raised her passed away from medical complications.
No death is easy to swallow nor should it be swallowed so easily. Remember 9/11? That had a huge impact on all of our lives. On 9/11, D was 5 blocks away from the towers when they collapsed. We were lucky, very lucky. D could've been in the towers since he did frequent business there but on this morning he was tucked away safely in his office. I considered myself lucky that I didn't know anyone directly who had died in the towers. Sad for all those lives lost but feeling lucky that I didn't know any of those faces intimately. That changed 3 years ago. I met one of my former youth group students who at this point was a man. I was concerned that he looked so haggard, out of sorts - something wasn't right with him. I asked about his brother and that's when he looked at me puzzled, asking if I didn't know that he had died in the towers. My heart broke - I cursed God for taking away this privilege of not knowing anyone who died that day. Now I cannot remember that day without thinking of the brother who died. But moreso, I think about the brother who lived. The brother whose shoulders are now weighed down being the only child left living for his parents, the brother who lost a brother so tragically, the brother whose face is etched with the scars and wounds of this event, the brother who lives this with tragedy in his heart, the brother whose life is forever changed by this event.
You see, I used to think funerals were a time to pay respect to the dead. Now I know it's really more about paying respect to the living. They are the ones who have to live on with the memory of the one who passed. They have to keep on living in spite of the pain. And the worst kind of pain happens when you question if the death could've been prevented or at least delayed. It's not fair. What could I have done? Why didn't they just talk to me? Did I miss a sign? So many questions that will never have answers nor do I think they are answerable.
The pain is deep for the living and the healing process is long and hard. It's in those times, they need to be surrounded by the love of their family, friends and community. This is why, though I'm a stranger to the Raifords, I will be going to Andrew's funeral alone. Of course, you're welcome to come but I won't invite you. I'm going alone to pay my respect to the dead, and the living.
16.7.10
Alone
I went alone to a Melissa Etheridge concert. Kind of pathetic, huh? Yeah, you can think that. It's OK.
I really did try to get someone to go with me. I do have friends - but it was 4 hours before the concert when I found out she was performing just 20 blocks from me at the United Palace Theatre. How perfect. So close. So I tried to figure this out but it wasn't meant to be - one was sick, another too busy, another working, another too broke and so on. I'd been waiting for a chance to see Melissa perform - tried to see her in Atlantic City last year but that didn't work out when I couldn't find someone to go with me and I didn't want to go alone. This was it and I HAD to go. Alas, I had to come to grips with the fact finding someone to go with me wasn't going to happen. And you know what? Going alone was meant to be. It was special.
Of course, I felt kind of foolish going by myself. I mean, it seems kind of loser-ish to be going to a concert alone. Nothing wrong with alone time - it's actually recommended and required for a healthy soul and body. But not a concert. That's just plain uncool. This changed for me.
The biggest impact of not having anyone with me was that I was left with just me with no immediate human distraction, no one to directly interact with. I was alone. I, and I alone was determining how to be - my interaction with the music was purely me. I didn't have to think about what my friend was thinking, doing, or saying. I didn't need to be aware of her/his vibes, moods, needs. The truth of relationships - friends, lovers, family - is that we are affected by their presence and that's part of the relationship. But at this concert I did things when I felt like - dance, sing, sit, stand, clap - sometimes out of sync with those around me but that was cool because I didn't know them and could care less what they thought of what I was doing. It was freeing to do what I wanted to do when I wanted to do them.
Being alone at the concert revealed to me how to be more utterly, shamelessly, completely me.
Being alone in a packed theatre made me very aware how unique an individual I am in the midst of sea of humanity. Melissa Etheridge is amazing - she bought together hundreds of people. She does that all the time. The only sure things that I had in common with the strangers around me was our love for her and her music, and our humanity. Beyond that each one of was unique. The variety is mind boggling when you think about it. And it took going to a concert alone to remind me of this. I knew it but I needed the reminder.
So going alone was amazing. Transformative, beautiful and special. I can't wait to go alone again. Just where and when is the mystery. Just can't wait.
I really did try to get someone to go with me. I do have friends - but it was 4 hours before the concert when I found out she was performing just 20 blocks from me at the United Palace Theatre. How perfect. So close. So I tried to figure this out but it wasn't meant to be - one was sick, another too busy, another working, another too broke and so on. I'd been waiting for a chance to see Melissa perform - tried to see her in Atlantic City last year but that didn't work out when I couldn't find someone to go with me and I didn't want to go alone. This was it and I HAD to go. Alas, I had to come to grips with the fact finding someone to go with me wasn't going to happen. And you know what? Going alone was meant to be. It was special.
Of course, I felt kind of foolish going by myself. I mean, it seems kind of loser-ish to be going to a concert alone. Nothing wrong with alone time - it's actually recommended and required for a healthy soul and body. But not a concert. That's just plain uncool. This changed for me.
The biggest impact of not having anyone with me was that I was left with just me with no immediate human distraction, no one to directly interact with. I was alone. I, and I alone was determining how to be - my interaction with the music was purely me. I didn't have to think about what my friend was thinking, doing, or saying. I didn't need to be aware of her/his vibes, moods, needs. The truth of relationships - friends, lovers, family - is that we are affected by their presence and that's part of the relationship. But at this concert I did things when I felt like - dance, sing, sit, stand, clap - sometimes out of sync with those around me but that was cool because I didn't know them and could care less what they thought of what I was doing. It was freeing to do what I wanted to do when I wanted to do them.
Being alone at the concert revealed to me how to be more utterly, shamelessly, completely me.
Being alone in a packed theatre made me very aware how unique an individual I am in the midst of sea of humanity. Melissa Etheridge is amazing - she bought together hundreds of people. She does that all the time. The only sure things that I had in common with the strangers around me was our love for her and her music, and our humanity. Beyond that each one of was unique. The variety is mind boggling when you think about it. And it took going to a concert alone to remind me of this. I knew it but I needed the reminder.
So going alone was amazing. Transformative, beautiful and special. I can't wait to go alone again. Just where and when is the mystery. Just can't wait.
12.7.10
Getting myself back - 3rd "real" blog dated 7.6.10
It sounds selfish. This is going to be all about me.
A couple of months ago, I realized that I had lost myself. I lost who I was so that I could be the best mother, wife, class parent, daughter, sister, friend possible. At some of these, I was awesome, at others, I sucked. Now I know why. Because I lost myself along the way. So it really didn't make a difference how hard I tried to be the best, I was lost and the holes in my life were gaping open festering wounds that were eating me up. It wasn't going to matter how great some of my life was going, those wounds were beginning to overwhelm the rest of the body.
I knew I was doing a great job as a mother but it was beginning to feel so meaningless and empty. Sure, my boys were getting the best education possible. They bought home report cards that rocked. They were doing so much extra-curricula activities that some days our heads were spinning. They were bringing home gaggles of trophies that we've run out of room for them. They were playing in recitals. But it was sucking. Sucking the life out of me because I was lost.
They were getting so much, and I was resenting it. I was mad that I was giving my all for them and they didn't even appreciate it. Didn't they know what I had given up to be their mother? I had a life. I was a mover and shaker in this world - speaking in front of large groups, impacting national and international policies, engaging my brain in "real" ways (not just worrying about what dinner was going to be and when did I need to do laundry so their school t-shirts were clean for community meeting on wednesday). I was beginning to rant at them that they needed to start taking care of themselves - at least pick up after they eat, pick up clothes, clean up their toys, do your homework because you'll benefit, not me. I resented that my schedule was actually their schedule. I didn't need to leave the house but for their lessons, their baseball practices, their appointments. I didn't need to make it on time, it was theirs to be on time for and why was I stressing out and putting everything together for these activities by myself?
I was lost.
And let's not talk about my marriage. It was an absolute mess! I was so wrapped up in caring for 2 babies who had medical issues from birth that I lost touch with my husband (and myself). We've fought so many fights that I've lost count. Once he was so mad, he broke dishes and wisely left the apartment and slept in the car that night. He's threatened to leave so many times - once flicking the paper in my face saying that he was looking for an apartment. I cowered in fear this whole time. Afraid to have him leave because I didn't think I could handle the kids by myself. I sucked up the anger in exchange for empty hope. Hoped that our future as husband and wife could be better if I just put up with it.
I was lost.
But I wasn't lost everywhere. I loved being a class parent and involved in the boys' school. This role bought out of me my best. At heart, I'm a community organizer and here was a community that needed some organizing. I rocked it out. Working with other committed parents and school staff, I was part of a team that lifted our school to a higher place. For that, I'll always be proud and grateful. Here I felt appreciated. Here I was engaged in the way I craved. I became so engaged that I was hired as the Parent Coordinator for one year. I had been wanting to get back to work but had the boys to think about. It didn't work out and I resigned.
I was lost.
Yesterday, I wrote about letting go. Letting go of Z was only a piece of the puzzle of getting myself back. I realized that I had to let go of some things to make room for other things. We, human beings, are arrogant to think that we had an endless capacity for life but I'm humbled to figure out that our capacity is limited. Not because God wills it but because we couldn't handle an endless capacity. That is God's and God's alone. We are given so, so, so very much and can raise that capacity but it means letting go. Yeah, it's funny math but the more you let go, the more you gain. It's that 2 step forward, 1 step back sort of thing.
Now I've started getting myself back. I saw my future on Saturday. It really was bright, so bright that I felt it in my chest. It overwhelmed me and excited me beyond words. I couldn't believe it. My future is something everyone's been telling me to pursue but I couldn't. I gave so many excuses. The main one was that I don't like to study - well, I knew that was a lie because it came down to passion for the subject for me. I realized this when I got an Honors in African American Theology taught by Prof. Copeland. I became so passionate and connected with the subject, that I rocked it out and got my one and only Honors at Yale.
I'm going to get my PhD in Theology at Union Theological Seminary and Columbia University. It fits. I'm going to use the brain that my sister says I've been wasting. I finally get to apply my M.Div that's just been hanging out there. That degree (work, sweat and tears) never made sense - didn't fit anywhere with what I ever did. I didn't need it to work at the jobs I've worked. I certainly didn't need it to be a mother. And those are the only "professional" roles I've filled. That degree never made sense. Now I know why I completed it. So I can be in a position to pursue my PhD. I live only 28 blocks north of the school - 3 subway stops away. How convenient. To have the place called home so close to school.
I'm going to teach. I'm going to mentor young people. I'm going to make an impact on policies. Hope to meet world leaders. Hope to do oh so many uh.ma.zing things!!
It's funny but D asked immediately about money and the kids. I knew he'd have reservations about this since it will radically impact our lives. But I have faith that it'll be fine, all fine. I know it's going to take some leg work but money is out there for me to do this. And the kids? They're growing up and becoming more independent. Unlike undergrad work, as a PhD student, there's a lot more flexibility in how I can arrange my class work so my (that's sooo cool that I can have a schedule that's all mine, mine, mine) schedule fits with theirs. I know it'll be fine. Actually, it's going to be more than fine.
And so here I go! Getting myself back. Feels so good.....
A couple of months ago, I realized that I had lost myself. I lost who I was so that I could be the best mother, wife, class parent, daughter, sister, friend possible. At some of these, I was awesome, at others, I sucked. Now I know why. Because I lost myself along the way. So it really didn't make a difference how hard I tried to be the best, I was lost and the holes in my life were gaping open festering wounds that were eating me up. It wasn't going to matter how great some of my life was going, those wounds were beginning to overwhelm the rest of the body.
I knew I was doing a great job as a mother but it was beginning to feel so meaningless and empty. Sure, my boys were getting the best education possible. They bought home report cards that rocked. They were doing so much extra-curricula activities that some days our heads were spinning. They were bringing home gaggles of trophies that we've run out of room for them. They were playing in recitals. But it was sucking. Sucking the life out of me because I was lost.
They were getting so much, and I was resenting it. I was mad that I was giving my all for them and they didn't even appreciate it. Didn't they know what I had given up to be their mother? I had a life. I was a mover and shaker in this world - speaking in front of large groups, impacting national and international policies, engaging my brain in "real" ways (not just worrying about what dinner was going to be and when did I need to do laundry so their school t-shirts were clean for community meeting on wednesday). I was beginning to rant at them that they needed to start taking care of themselves - at least pick up after they eat, pick up clothes, clean up their toys, do your homework because you'll benefit, not me. I resented that my schedule was actually their schedule. I didn't need to leave the house but for their lessons, their baseball practices, their appointments. I didn't need to make it on time, it was theirs to be on time for and why was I stressing out and putting everything together for these activities by myself?
I was lost.
And let's not talk about my marriage. It was an absolute mess! I was so wrapped up in caring for 2 babies who had medical issues from birth that I lost touch with my husband (and myself). We've fought so many fights that I've lost count. Once he was so mad, he broke dishes and wisely left the apartment and slept in the car that night. He's threatened to leave so many times - once flicking the paper in my face saying that he was looking for an apartment. I cowered in fear this whole time. Afraid to have him leave because I didn't think I could handle the kids by myself. I sucked up the anger in exchange for empty hope. Hoped that our future as husband and wife could be better if I just put up with it.
I was lost.
But I wasn't lost everywhere. I loved being a class parent and involved in the boys' school. This role bought out of me my best. At heart, I'm a community organizer and here was a community that needed some organizing. I rocked it out. Working with other committed parents and school staff, I was part of a team that lifted our school to a higher place. For that, I'll always be proud and grateful. Here I felt appreciated. Here I was engaged in the way I craved. I became so engaged that I was hired as the Parent Coordinator for one year. I had been wanting to get back to work but had the boys to think about. It didn't work out and I resigned.
I was lost.
Yesterday, I wrote about letting go. Letting go of Z was only a piece of the puzzle of getting myself back. I realized that I had to let go of some things to make room for other things. We, human beings, are arrogant to think that we had an endless capacity for life but I'm humbled to figure out that our capacity is limited. Not because God wills it but because we couldn't handle an endless capacity. That is God's and God's alone. We are given so, so, so very much and can raise that capacity but it means letting go. Yeah, it's funny math but the more you let go, the more you gain. It's that 2 step forward, 1 step back sort of thing.
Now I've started getting myself back. I saw my future on Saturday. It really was bright, so bright that I felt it in my chest. It overwhelmed me and excited me beyond words. I couldn't believe it. My future is something everyone's been telling me to pursue but I couldn't. I gave so many excuses. The main one was that I don't like to study - well, I knew that was a lie because it came down to passion for the subject for me. I realized this when I got an Honors in African American Theology taught by Prof. Copeland. I became so passionate and connected with the subject, that I rocked it out and got my one and only Honors at Yale.
I'm going to get my PhD in Theology at Union Theological Seminary and Columbia University. It fits. I'm going to use the brain that my sister says I've been wasting. I finally get to apply my M.Div that's just been hanging out there. That degree (work, sweat and tears) never made sense - didn't fit anywhere with what I ever did. I didn't need it to work at the jobs I've worked. I certainly didn't need it to be a mother. And those are the only "professional" roles I've filled. That degree never made sense. Now I know why I completed it. So I can be in a position to pursue my PhD. I live only 28 blocks north of the school - 3 subway stops away. How convenient. To have the place called home so close to school.
I'm going to teach. I'm going to mentor young people. I'm going to make an impact on policies. Hope to meet world leaders. Hope to do oh so many uh.ma.zing things!!
It's funny but D asked immediately about money and the kids. I knew he'd have reservations about this since it will radically impact our lives. But I have faith that it'll be fine, all fine. I know it's going to take some leg work but money is out there for me to do this. And the kids? They're growing up and becoming more independent. Unlike undergrad work, as a PhD student, there's a lot more flexibility in how I can arrange my class work so my (that's sooo cool that I can have a schedule that's all mine, mine, mine) schedule fits with theirs. I know it'll be fine. Actually, it's going to be more than fine.
And so here I go! Getting myself back. Feels so good.....
Letting go.... - 2nd "real" blog dated 7.5.10
Letting go is a hard thing for me. Really hard. Such a control freak that I map plans out months in advance. I'm good for spontaneity but only occasionally. Don't ask me to pick up and go frequently cuz I won't. It means letting go of control. I did my scariest letting go yesterday.
I let go of Z.
Z is my baby who from conception has had me on edge. At the mid-term sonogram, the technician and radiologist advised that I see my OB quickly to get an amniocentisis. They noticed that there could be complications - indications of ventricular megaly (this was the start of medical school for me - I have learned so many medical terms because of Z). This is a condition where the ventricles, the holes in the middle of the brain are too big and could mean there's Down Syndrome. What the F#*%?!?! Just 18 months earlier, I had an uncomplicated birth. My heart was pounding. My OB, Dr. Ledyard really didn't want me to have an amnio but he let us since the idea was planted in our head. The really, really crazy part was that they told us we'd have to make a decision about whether or not we would continue our pregnancy before we got the results. You see, NY state law permits medical abortions until 24 weeks without a court order. I was already 20 weeks pregnant when I was told to get a sonogram. Results take 2 weeks to get back. Do the math. It was too tight a timeframe to have discussions after we got the result and so we had to start talking about it. I learned so much about my family that I'd rather have not known - some said if you have any questions about this baby, terminate - if not for any other reason, one very good reason - it wouldn't be fair to K. That one sticks with me. I'm sure there were other arguments and rationales but when you bring up any one of my kids, I HAVE to listen and be open to the idea. Well, the drama was all for naught since the amnio came back clean.
Well, this was not to be an easy pregnancy. He was breech. I already had one c-section and wasn't looking forward to another one. There was too little fluid to attempt an inversion - try to turn the baby using hands in the doctor's office. I tried eastern medicine where they burn tiny blocks of herbs on your pinky toes every day for 7 days - that hurt like hell but I was doing anything I could to avoid another c-section.
We scheduled a c-section for May 16, doctor thought 38 weeks was enough and I was ready to give birth. Nope, Z had to come into this world on May 14. The c-section was scary. It took the doctor 45 minutes to get to him and 1 hour to close me up. (I had a complicated c-section recovery from K where the doctor had to "rip" open the wound to let an infection heal. For 6 weeks, a nurse visited to remove and pack bandages in the wound so that it healed from the inside out. That hurt.) Dr. Fiss came to me afterwards and told me that having another baby could put mine and the baby's life in danger. Well, that made me feel better about the decision we had already made to not have anymore children. 2 was more than enough.
So you see, Z's story didn't have an easy beginning and it went downhill quickly. He was born with a HUGE head - the pediatrician said that if you laid 10 babies down in a row according to head size, Z was number 12. But everything seemed fine so all we could do was wait and see. It was at his 4 month check up, Dr. Clemens was alarmed at the rate of head growth that he sent us to a neurosurgeon. That led us to a neurologist. Dr. Clemens heard a heart murmur. Yeah, it's probably nothing but go get an echo and the works from the pulmonologist. His skin seems irritated - go see a dermatologist. It was one thing after another. Dr. Clemens knew this was a special child and he wasn't taking any chances. By the time Z was 12 months old, he had 13 doctors I was keeping track of and making appointments with.
My mother noticed from early on that Z only looked to his right side and told me I should check it out. I waved it off - already overwhelmed with everything. I learned that listening to her was more imperative than ever. Dr. Clemens (our medical savior by now) heard this concern when I casually bought it up and did notice that Z was not developing at a "normal" rate by the time he was 9 months old and sent him to be evaluated through the Early Interventions program. Well, that was a floodgate that opened - it was recommended that he receive physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy and special education. At 13 months old, our lives revolved around his schedule of services - 9 sessions a week. For 2 years, our lives revolved around his therapy sessions.
From Early Intervention, he went through the Committee on Pre-School Special Education process of the Department of Education where he was placed in a special education pre-school. It broke my heart to put my 3 year old on a school bus and hand him over to strangers. Those fears were for naught as the staff of the Harry H Gordan School were uh.maz.ing!
Two years later, it was decision time again. To mainstream or stay in special education?!?!? We were torn - teachers, therapists, us as parents. Z was doing great but where do you place this child? We needed to make a decision in March for where he was going to be in September. This was hard. Especially hard because for a 5 year old, 6 months can make a HUGE difference. No crystal ball to see if Z was ready to be mainstreamed but we took the risk. Enrolling him at Central Park East II Elementary School in East Harlem was the BEST educational decision we could've made for him. He's thriving. No questions about his academic and social development. He continues to receive speech and occupational therapy. The 2 last remaining pieces of his Individualized Educational Plan. And these services continue to be reduced over time as he improves in these areas.
There's so much more to Z's story.
God inspired me (D was cool with me choosing the name, just didn't see the God part of it, but that's another story to come) to give him the name he was given. For Z means "God with you." And if anyone in our family needed God, it was him. God has been with him all along. God was with us all along. His Korean name, given to him by my father, WK means "high foundation." I'm scared to think about this. This is the child who wrote a letter of advice to President Obama completely on his own because he was bored. Told our president what he thinks he should do. (BTW, he got a letter back from the president. Yippee!!) SMH. Almost scared to think what he will do with his life.
Letting go....
Z's biggest challenge has been his speech. I never knew how important speech was to a child's development. We've invested a LOT of time, energy and money into his speech. Even paid out of pocket for an outside speech therapist for extra sessions to supplement what he was already receiving in school for free through the Department of Education. I've spent hours with him going through drills for years - using worksheets provided by Gina, Debbie and Maria, his amazing speech therapists. He's spent hours sitting through sessions. It's been hard work but for whatever reason, even though he had mastered all the mechanics, he wasn't executing and applying the lessons he had learned. I knew it was only going to happen when he cared enough. In this I didn't worry too much, just got frustrated when I couldn't understand him when I knew he knew how to speak clearly. This past week, I noticed that he was much clearer all of the sudden. My heart was relieved to see that all the hard work was finally paying off. I didn't figure it out why until I let go yesterday. It was his new setting. He just started another summer of camp and was thrown in with a bunch of new kids and teachers. Don't know what's happening there - maybe he's working on a new girlfriend or trying to impress the boy next to him or is just simply tired of not being understood all the time - really don't care. Just happy to know that he cares enough about being understood ALL of the time (not just when he's trying to get something out of us), that's his speech is clearing up. He's finally articulating all of the time, not just some of the time.
Through all this, Z has been on our church's prayer list. I've been tempted to let his name be dropped and was waiting for our church to move him off the list. I mean, so many need prayer and isn't there a quota of how much prayer one should get? His name has appeared on our church's prayer list every week for years. Each week, whether we were there or not, I knew his name was being lifted to God and the world. His name was heard. A whole community was being reminded to keep him in their thoughts and prayers.
Yesterday, I let go of that.
I asked God and my church community for forgiveness for selfishly leaving Z's name on the prayer list this long. I cried, sobbing because I could finally let go of Z and completely place him in God's hand. But you know what was crazy? God was there all along. I thought I was letting go of Z into God's hand. How ridiculous. I was letting go of my own fears and anxieties, my own issues surrounding Z. I thought I was doing the work, but it was actually God who was doing it all along. Sweet relief. Letting go was sweet.
Letting go takes risk because it's so scary, especially when it's something you've held onto so long.
Letting go takes hope because none of us knows what the future holds
Letting go takes faith because... just because
Letting go brings hope because the future then opens itself up
My heart is lightened today and the future looks so much brighter. What will I let go of next? What will you let go of?
I let go of Z.
Z is my baby who from conception has had me on edge. At the mid-term sonogram, the technician and radiologist advised that I see my OB quickly to get an amniocentisis. They noticed that there could be complications - indications of ventricular megaly (this was the start of medical school for me - I have learned so many medical terms because of Z). This is a condition where the ventricles, the holes in the middle of the brain are too big and could mean there's Down Syndrome. What the F#*%?!?! Just 18 months earlier, I had an uncomplicated birth. My heart was pounding. My OB, Dr. Ledyard really didn't want me to have an amnio but he let us since the idea was planted in our head. The really, really crazy part was that they told us we'd have to make a decision about whether or not we would continue our pregnancy before we got the results. You see, NY state law permits medical abortions until 24 weeks without a court order. I was already 20 weeks pregnant when I was told to get a sonogram. Results take 2 weeks to get back. Do the math. It was too tight a timeframe to have discussions after we got the result and so we had to start talking about it. I learned so much about my family that I'd rather have not known - some said if you have any questions about this baby, terminate - if not for any other reason, one very good reason - it wouldn't be fair to K. That one sticks with me. I'm sure there were other arguments and rationales but when you bring up any one of my kids, I HAVE to listen and be open to the idea. Well, the drama was all for naught since the amnio came back clean.
Well, this was not to be an easy pregnancy. He was breech. I already had one c-section and wasn't looking forward to another one. There was too little fluid to attempt an inversion - try to turn the baby using hands in the doctor's office. I tried eastern medicine where they burn tiny blocks of herbs on your pinky toes every day for 7 days - that hurt like hell but I was doing anything I could to avoid another c-section.
We scheduled a c-section for May 16, doctor thought 38 weeks was enough and I was ready to give birth. Nope, Z had to come into this world on May 14. The c-section was scary. It took the doctor 45 minutes to get to him and 1 hour to close me up. (I had a complicated c-section recovery from K where the doctor had to "rip" open the wound to let an infection heal. For 6 weeks, a nurse visited to remove and pack bandages in the wound so that it healed from the inside out. That hurt.) Dr. Fiss came to me afterwards and told me that having another baby could put mine and the baby's life in danger. Well, that made me feel better about the decision we had already made to not have anymore children. 2 was more than enough.
So you see, Z's story didn't have an easy beginning and it went downhill quickly. He was born with a HUGE head - the pediatrician said that if you laid 10 babies down in a row according to head size, Z was number 12. But everything seemed fine so all we could do was wait and see. It was at his 4 month check up, Dr. Clemens was alarmed at the rate of head growth that he sent us to a neurosurgeon. That led us to a neurologist. Dr. Clemens heard a heart murmur. Yeah, it's probably nothing but go get an echo and the works from the pulmonologist. His skin seems irritated - go see a dermatologist. It was one thing after another. Dr. Clemens knew this was a special child and he wasn't taking any chances. By the time Z was 12 months old, he had 13 doctors I was keeping track of and making appointments with.
My mother noticed from early on that Z only looked to his right side and told me I should check it out. I waved it off - already overwhelmed with everything. I learned that listening to her was more imperative than ever. Dr. Clemens (our medical savior by now) heard this concern when I casually bought it up and did notice that Z was not developing at a "normal" rate by the time he was 9 months old and sent him to be evaluated through the Early Interventions program. Well, that was a floodgate that opened - it was recommended that he receive physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy and special education. At 13 months old, our lives revolved around his schedule of services - 9 sessions a week. For 2 years, our lives revolved around his therapy sessions.
From Early Intervention, he went through the Committee on Pre-School Special Education process of the Department of Education where he was placed in a special education pre-school. It broke my heart to put my 3 year old on a school bus and hand him over to strangers. Those fears were for naught as the staff of the Harry H Gordan School were uh.maz.ing!
Two years later, it was decision time again. To mainstream or stay in special education?!?!? We were torn - teachers, therapists, us as parents. Z was doing great but where do you place this child? We needed to make a decision in March for where he was going to be in September. This was hard. Especially hard because for a 5 year old, 6 months can make a HUGE difference. No crystal ball to see if Z was ready to be mainstreamed but we took the risk. Enrolling him at Central Park East II Elementary School in East Harlem was the BEST educational decision we could've made for him. He's thriving. No questions about his academic and social development. He continues to receive speech and occupational therapy. The 2 last remaining pieces of his Individualized Educational Plan. And these services continue to be reduced over time as he improves in these areas.
There's so much more to Z's story.
God inspired me (D was cool with me choosing the name, just didn't see the God part of it, but that's another story to come) to give him the name he was given. For Z means "God with you." And if anyone in our family needed God, it was him. God has been with him all along. God was with us all along. His Korean name, given to him by my father, WK means "high foundation." I'm scared to think about this. This is the child who wrote a letter of advice to President Obama completely on his own because he was bored. Told our president what he thinks he should do. (BTW, he got a letter back from the president. Yippee!!) SMH. Almost scared to think what he will do with his life.
Letting go....
Z's biggest challenge has been his speech. I never knew how important speech was to a child's development. We've invested a LOT of time, energy and money into his speech. Even paid out of pocket for an outside speech therapist for extra sessions to supplement what he was already receiving in school for free through the Department of Education. I've spent hours with him going through drills for years - using worksheets provided by Gina, Debbie and Maria, his amazing speech therapists. He's spent hours sitting through sessions. It's been hard work but for whatever reason, even though he had mastered all the mechanics, he wasn't executing and applying the lessons he had learned. I knew it was only going to happen when he cared enough. In this I didn't worry too much, just got frustrated when I couldn't understand him when I knew he knew how to speak clearly. This past week, I noticed that he was much clearer all of the sudden. My heart was relieved to see that all the hard work was finally paying off. I didn't figure it out why until I let go yesterday. It was his new setting. He just started another summer of camp and was thrown in with a bunch of new kids and teachers. Don't know what's happening there - maybe he's working on a new girlfriend or trying to impress the boy next to him or is just simply tired of not being understood all the time - really don't care. Just happy to know that he cares enough about being understood ALL of the time (not just when he's trying to get something out of us), that's his speech is clearing up. He's finally articulating all of the time, not just some of the time.
Through all this, Z has been on our church's prayer list. I've been tempted to let his name be dropped and was waiting for our church to move him off the list. I mean, so many need prayer and isn't there a quota of how much prayer one should get? His name has appeared on our church's prayer list every week for years. Each week, whether we were there or not, I knew his name was being lifted to God and the world. His name was heard. A whole community was being reminded to keep him in their thoughts and prayers.
Yesterday, I let go of that.
I asked God and my church community for forgiveness for selfishly leaving Z's name on the prayer list this long. I cried, sobbing because I could finally let go of Z and completely place him in God's hand. But you know what was crazy? God was there all along. I thought I was letting go of Z into God's hand. How ridiculous. I was letting go of my own fears and anxieties, my own issues surrounding Z. I thought I was doing the work, but it was actually God who was doing it all along. Sweet relief. Letting go was sweet.
Letting go takes risk because it's so scary, especially when it's something you've held onto so long.
Letting go takes hope because none of us knows what the future holds
Letting go takes faith because... just because
Letting go brings hope because the future then opens itself up
My heart is lightened today and the future looks so much brighter. What will I let go of next? What will you let go of?
A Letter to God - 1st "real" Blog dated 7.3.10
I never testify. Yeah, I went to seminary and studied God and all - you'd figure I'd be wearing my faiith on my sleeve but I think it's because of seminary, it's taken me this long to figure out what my faith really is. I have never shared my faith as I'm going to share with you today. But it's time. I have been transformed.
These past 10 days have been the most intense, strange and awesome period of my life - as most of you saw on my posts. Some of you even reached out worried and concerned. Don't. All is good because God is good.
It feels like I've lived a lifetime in less than 2 weeks. I have done, seen, gone to, heard and said things I never knew was out there. It's been intense, the least to say. As good as the book called my life is, I'm hoping this chapter comes to an end soon. I've lost sleep, my appetite - just those life sustaining necessities while gaining new amazing life experiences. I'd never trade away this chapter for anything and am blessed to have experienced what I experienced. But I know what I really crave right now - a little less drama for a little more blah. Wanna go back to being the full-time stay at home mom and wife which sounds soooo good right now.
Not all of you are believers and that's ok. Just want to share this letter because it's me. I am shamelessly, completely opening myself up to you.
The best way to share what's been happening is to write a letter to God and so here it goes...
**************************
Dear God,
I thought I knew you but I really didn't. It's only in the last 10 days, you revealed yourself to me. You knew it was time and I was ready. You're everything I learned - wise, good, patient, clever, hilarious, and sooooo much more. Thank you. Thank you for everything.
You were there when I was driving down a dark road in the middle of the night - no lights on the road, rain splattering, fog misting all around us, and Melissa Etheridge blasting on the car stereo. You were there in that intensely cool and amazing experience.
You were there when I watched my boys execute TaeKwonDo patterns for a friend by the river. Their bodies moving in sync, perfect rhythm with each other as brothers should - so beautiful, so elegant. My heart was going to burst.
You were there when we were making bubbles last night for the first time in a long time. Recapturing the early years when we were so innocent, unconditionally kind, full of joy, so many good things, and reminding us to never lose those qualities.
You were there when I was in stitches watching a grown man (who thinks he's a kool kat) smoking a blue cigarette. Doubled over, tears rolling down my face was exactly what I needed when I was about to completely break down, at my lowest during this period.
You were there when I opened a chain email reminding us that you are always there, no matter what. I despise chain letters and emails and never forward them but the one who needed it was standing next me, needing it badly. And she read it and cried. I hope it comforted her.
You bought new friends to me under unusual circumstances - some of them under what would usually be too awkward.
You put me in touch with old friends I had neglected or forgotten.
You bought words to my lips to be a better friend and confidante.
You gave me courage and strength to put people in their places.
You found me parking spaces.
You made everything fit into a neat schedule. Opened up time when I needed time to do what I was being called to do.
You gave D and me renewed passion for each other that verified how deep our love really is for each other.
You gave me water when I was thirsty. After K and Z polished off my cup of water, K turned and said in the sweetest voice, "Mommy, I'll get you more water."
You gave me strength when I thought I was about to fall on my face.
You transformed my parents. My mother called to say that she and my dad wanted to celebrate D's 50th birthday and our 10th wedding anniversary. I was dumbfounded and knew it was only you who changed their hearts. My parents who rejected D and our union, my father who didn't come to my wedding - remembered that this was our 10th year married!!!! And now it's them who wants to celebrate D's and my life together in a big way. Wow.
You gave us the moon, stars, trees, sun and wonders of nature that I have a new appreciation for.
You gave my soulmate courage and strength to do the scariest thing ever. She did it and it turned out great. Continue to be with her on this journey - it's going to be rough but with you by her side, all will be good.
Most importantly, you chose me to be one of your children - transforming me so I could be an agent of transformation. I hope I've done you right.
God, this morning you showed me my future and dang it!! It looks bright. So bright I felt the light in my chest. Thank you.
Thank you. I love you. Thank you.
Love,
Jeannie
These past 10 days have been the most intense, strange and awesome period of my life - as most of you saw on my posts. Some of you even reached out worried and concerned. Don't. All is good because God is good.
It feels like I've lived a lifetime in less than 2 weeks. I have done, seen, gone to, heard and said things I never knew was out there. It's been intense, the least to say. As good as the book called my life is, I'm hoping this chapter comes to an end soon. I've lost sleep, my appetite - just those life sustaining necessities while gaining new amazing life experiences. I'd never trade away this chapter for anything and am blessed to have experienced what I experienced. But I know what I really crave right now - a little less drama for a little more blah. Wanna go back to being the full-time stay at home mom and wife which sounds soooo good right now.
Not all of you are believers and that's ok. Just want to share this letter because it's me. I am shamelessly, completely opening myself up to you.
The best way to share what's been happening is to write a letter to God and so here it goes...
**************************
Dear God,
I thought I knew you but I really didn't. It's only in the last 10 days, you revealed yourself to me. You knew it was time and I was ready. You're everything I learned - wise, good, patient, clever, hilarious, and sooooo much more. Thank you. Thank you for everything.
You were there when I was driving down a dark road in the middle of the night - no lights on the road, rain splattering, fog misting all around us, and Melissa Etheridge blasting on the car stereo. You were there in that intensely cool and amazing experience.
You were there when I watched my boys execute TaeKwonDo patterns for a friend by the river. Their bodies moving in sync, perfect rhythm with each other as brothers should - so beautiful, so elegant. My heart was going to burst.
You were there when we were making bubbles last night for the first time in a long time. Recapturing the early years when we were so innocent, unconditionally kind, full of joy, so many good things, and reminding us to never lose those qualities.
You were there when I was in stitches watching a grown man (who thinks he's a kool kat) smoking a blue cigarette. Doubled over, tears rolling down my face was exactly what I needed when I was about to completely break down, at my lowest during this period.
You were there when I opened a chain email reminding us that you are always there, no matter what. I despise chain letters and emails and never forward them but the one who needed it was standing next me, needing it badly. And she read it and cried. I hope it comforted her.
You bought new friends to me under unusual circumstances - some of them under what would usually be too awkward.
You put me in touch with old friends I had neglected or forgotten.
You bought words to my lips to be a better friend and confidante.
You gave me courage and strength to put people in their places.
You found me parking spaces.
You made everything fit into a neat schedule. Opened up time when I needed time to do what I was being called to do.
You gave D and me renewed passion for each other that verified how deep our love really is for each other.
You gave me water when I was thirsty. After K and Z polished off my cup of water, K turned and said in the sweetest voice, "Mommy, I'll get you more water."
You gave me strength when I thought I was about to fall on my face.
You transformed my parents. My mother called to say that she and my dad wanted to celebrate D's 50th birthday and our 10th wedding anniversary. I was dumbfounded and knew it was only you who changed their hearts. My parents who rejected D and our union, my father who didn't come to my wedding - remembered that this was our 10th year married!!!! And now it's them who wants to celebrate D's and my life together in a big way. Wow.
You gave us the moon, stars, trees, sun and wonders of nature that I have a new appreciation for.
You gave my soulmate courage and strength to do the scariest thing ever. She did it and it turned out great. Continue to be with her on this journey - it's going to be rough but with you by her side, all will be good.
Most importantly, you chose me to be one of your children - transforming me so I could be an agent of transformation. I hope I've done you right.
God, this morning you showed me my future and dang it!! It looks bright. So bright I felt the light in my chest. Thank you.
Thank you. I love you. Thank you.
Love,
Jeannie
10.7.10
Blogging
A wise friend told me that blogging is a spiritual exercise. She is right. It is that and so much more.
Blogging is spiritual. It has made me reach deep into my soul and ponder the mystery and beauty of her. It put me in touch with the Spirit in a way I never knew She could be reached.
Blogging is exercise. That it is. It's been exhausting. I didn't realize until the last post I put up. I literally collapsed on the bed - exhaulted and exhausted. Drained. It's exercise for the mind and soul. As much as it takes out of me, blogging is making my mind and soul healthier.
My mother once suggested that I keep a journal to document my life, especially the lives of her grandsons. She was proud of them and didn't want me to lose those precious stories as they accumulated. I could not be motivated and was actually too overwhelmed with the daily care of 2 additional lives that I never had time or energy to do that. Now it's time.
Time and energy has been freed up to journal my life. I started "blogging" with notes on FaceBook. (These will be put up here since they really were my first blogs. Just didn't know then that they were actually blogs.) For a few days, I had been posting vague and strange status updates which began to alarm friends and family. I felt bad for alarming those closest to me - some even reached out, asking if I was ok. Instead of getting back to each concerned person, I decided it would be more "efficient" to put out a note - this way I could update a bunch of people at once. Plus, frankly - I didn't want to repeat the same story over and over. I didn't know being "efficient" was going to make more work for me but here I am. I've created a blog. And feeling oh so good and right about it. Thanks to all who signed up as followers! Let's see how many I can get - tee hee. So if you haven't, please sign up - cuz I wanna know how many of you are really reading this.
Blogging is a discipline. It requires intentionality and deliberate effort. Gotta carve out time in an already full schedule to do this. Be thoughtful and not just put out the first thing that's on my mind. It's been strange how letting ideas float around in my mind and soul produces worthy blogs. None of this is spontaneous - all these thoughts have been cooking and fermenting for a while. It takes work.
Blogging is contagious. Since I've started blogging, friends who hadn't blogged for a while have been putting up new blogs. So glad I joined the community of blogging. We can sustain each other to be bold and utterly, shamelessly, completely us.
And so begins this journey in my life - blogging. It's good for my soul and mind. Hope you get as much out of my blogs as I have. Peace and love.
Blogging is spiritual. It has made me reach deep into my soul and ponder the mystery and beauty of her. It put me in touch with the Spirit in a way I never knew She could be reached.
Blogging is exercise. That it is. It's been exhausting. I didn't realize until the last post I put up. I literally collapsed on the bed - exhaulted and exhausted. Drained. It's exercise for the mind and soul. As much as it takes out of me, blogging is making my mind and soul healthier.
My mother once suggested that I keep a journal to document my life, especially the lives of her grandsons. She was proud of them and didn't want me to lose those precious stories as they accumulated. I could not be motivated and was actually too overwhelmed with the daily care of 2 additional lives that I never had time or energy to do that. Now it's time.
Time and energy has been freed up to journal my life. I started "blogging" with notes on FaceBook. (These will be put up here since they really were my first blogs. Just didn't know then that they were actually blogs.) For a few days, I had been posting vague and strange status updates which began to alarm friends and family. I felt bad for alarming those closest to me - some even reached out, asking if I was ok. Instead of getting back to each concerned person, I decided it would be more "efficient" to put out a note - this way I could update a bunch of people at once. Plus, frankly - I didn't want to repeat the same story over and over. I didn't know being "efficient" was going to make more work for me but here I am. I've created a blog. And feeling oh so good and right about it. Thanks to all who signed up as followers! Let's see how many I can get - tee hee. So if you haven't, please sign up - cuz I wanna know how many of you are really reading this.
Blogging is a discipline. It requires intentionality and deliberate effort. Gotta carve out time in an already full schedule to do this. Be thoughtful and not just put out the first thing that's on my mind. It's been strange how letting ideas float around in my mind and soul produces worthy blogs. None of this is spontaneous - all these thoughts have been cooking and fermenting for a while. It takes work.
Blogging is contagious. Since I've started blogging, friends who hadn't blogged for a while have been putting up new blogs. So glad I joined the community of blogging. We can sustain each other to be bold and utterly, shamelessly, completely us.
And so begins this journey in my life - blogging. It's good for my soul and mind. Hope you get as much out of my blogs as I have. Peace and love.
8.7.10
Lists
I think I'm having a mystical experience. All the changes that are happening around me are strange and wonderful. I'm far from being a mystic as I understand them to be (another thing to put on my list of things to do). I understand mystics to be those who are not weighted down by the cares of this world so they can be utterly, shameless, completely open to their God and the universe.
And that I ain't got the priviledge to do that nor do I have the desire to do that. I'm a mom, wife, daughter, sister, and so much more. I'm attached to this world - very attached and I ain't letting go of that. So how do I better live into this experience that's been blessed upon me? Letting go - in this case, that's mean making lists just so I can free up space in my mind and soul so the spirit has more jiggle space. Sounds simple but in my case, it isn't.
I'm scatterbrained - perhaps a tad ADHD. I can't seem to stay focused on one project. I can only stay focused if I physically stop moving. The main reason I'm getting this blog posted is because I'm attached to the computer to make this happen. If I start moving, I get distracted by the things I see along the way and lose focus - there's that HUGE pile of laundry to be folded, the floors need to be mopped, I'm getting hungry and so on and so on. So I'll focus now and make today's blog make sense. LISTS.....
Lists are useful because they help you organize. I mean, there are companies that develop materials to help you make lists. I remember the Franklin Planners which are sophisticated, fancy tools to help you get organized but really. There are expensive, complicated computer programs for this. In the end, it comes down to you. It won't matter what tools are at hand - only you can make your lists.
When I'm organized - as I am nowadays, I carry around a notebook where I jot down reminders. When I'm in a rush and just need to get it out of my head, I grab whatever is around me - scrap paper, my phone, anything to document what is so important to me and I'm so afraid I'll forget.
There are gaggles of lists I keep. (Yet another list. Really? How silly. A list of lists?)
And that I ain't got the priviledge to do that nor do I have the desire to do that. I'm a mom, wife, daughter, sister, and so much more. I'm attached to this world - very attached and I ain't letting go of that. So how do I better live into this experience that's been blessed upon me? Letting go - in this case, that's mean making lists just so I can free up space in my mind and soul so the spirit has more jiggle space. Sounds simple but in my case, it isn't.
I'm scatterbrained - perhaps a tad ADHD. I can't seem to stay focused on one project. I can only stay focused if I physically stop moving. The main reason I'm getting this blog posted is because I'm attached to the computer to make this happen. If I start moving, I get distracted by the things I see along the way and lose focus - there's that HUGE pile of laundry to be folded, the floors need to be mopped, I'm getting hungry and so on and so on. So I'll focus now and make today's blog make sense. LISTS.....
Lists are useful because they help you organize. I mean, there are companies that develop materials to help you make lists. I remember the Franklin Planners which are sophisticated, fancy tools to help you get organized but really. There are expensive, complicated computer programs for this. In the end, it comes down to you. It won't matter what tools are at hand - only you can make your lists.
When I'm organized - as I am nowadays, I carry around a notebook where I jot down reminders. When I'm in a rush and just need to get it out of my head, I grab whatever is around me - scrap paper, my phone, anything to document what is so important to me and I'm so afraid I'll forget.
There are gaggles of lists I keep. (Yet another list. Really? How silly. A list of lists?)
- Blog ideas
- Things to do
- Things to do just for the boys
- Trader Joe's
- Costco
- Fairway
- Shoprite (you have to cover the multiple stores since each one has something in particular you know you want from there)
- Target
- Calendar (that's really simply a list of appointments - your daily life)
- Contacts
- Class List
- Camp List
- Prayers of the People (this is in our church bulletin every week - this is where I finally let go of Z)
I have more but don't want to bore you (or me). It would probably overwhelm me to really think about how many lists I have - both written and unwritten.
Lists are both good and bad.
They are useful as reminders. In our modern world, there's so much to keep track of and only so much space in our brains. Soooo grateful for lists to free up space in my limited memory. A friend recently posted how she was regretted not making a list for Costco - ended up spending waaay too much money but when I asked her about it, seemed like she made the right purchases, wasn't planning on returning anything. Probably forgot something. I do that all the time and that's why lists are important to me. I would forget the important stuff and become distracted by the more interesting, amusing, fun stuff.
But lists can be bad if you let them limit you. Our world and universe is a vast, wide place to be explored. That's why it's out there.
I make schedules so I have tight control of my life, but this past week, I let things go and become what they be. Those who know me well will be surprised to know that I have let schedules be a lot more fluid. It doesn't mean that I forgot to wash the boys' camp shirts for picture day yesterday but I became less rigid and let things flow. Each day this past week really took shape on their own. I only stressed about the necessities - the rest? I let happen as they happened. I actually allowed the wind to blow me where it felt right. Sure, I could've gotten annoyed when a friend had to bail on hanging with me yesterday. But it was for a very good reason on her end, her grandmother whom she hadn't seen in a while dropped by unexpectedly. How could I feel bad? I could've been annoyed that I "lost" out on her company and the time we had together, the time with her I craved. But I flowed with it. It was actually good that I was alone - I believe God made things happen the way they did yesterday because She was reminding me to spend time with her and me - She needed time with me.
All these lists fall under 3 simple categories for me:
- Need - These are vital necessities such as breathing, eating, taking care of my body.
- Want - This netbook is the latest want that I fulfilled. Not necessary since I could have waited for my desktop to be fixed.
- Get what you get - Sometimes these don't make sense and are usually a combination of the 2 above. Z is my child who I certainly didn't want. All parents want their children to be healthy and "normal" (whatever that may be). Z was my special needs child which is what I needed. Through him, I learned that the world and universe are much more beautiful and amazing than I imagined in my wildest dream. Without him in my life, I would've never gotten to that place.
It is the Get what you get list that makes the most impact in your life. Those experiences are the ones that are most transformative because they're a mystery. A puzzle to be put together so the experience makes sense.
Each day is a combination of these 3 lists. So now that I got to do what I want - post my blog. I'm going to go do what I need to do - laundry, yuck. So that I can get what I get.
7.7.10
My Dedication
You may wonder why I've dedicated this blog to my SoulSister and not my husband, children, parents, sister, brother or even named friends. I won't name my SoulSister because that's hers and hers alone to share. I can only share why I dedicated this blog to her so here it goes.....
*********************************
Dear SoulSister,
You're the reason why I'm blogging. I never thought I had anything worthy enough to share with the world but you made me realize my worth. You gave me the gift of me. Thank you.
We connected under unusual circumstances but that's how I think the most valued and profound connections are made - unusually.
You've been asking me what you have done for. Well, let me tell you. You came into my life to transform me. Because of you, I have been transformed.
You took me to places I never thought I'd go. You made me do crazy things I never thought I'd do. You bought words and thoughts to my lips, mind and heart I never knew were there. You bought out the best in me in the worst of times. You opened my soul to the universe and God.
I'm so sorry it's your pain that bought all of this out of me. But in life, it's often tragedy that brings people together. It's in that moment of desperation that people come together. We know that we have to rely on each other to get through the crap. Your pain became my pain. Remember that moment when I broke down for a brief moment? It was magical. Painful, but magical. I didn't know we were going to become as deeply connected with each other as we are right now. I just knew that we had become connected. I never had that gift from anyone else. For that I am so utterly, shamelessly, completely grateful.
It's strange and wonderful how strangers mistake us for a couple. It's the best compliment I've received about any relationship I've ever been in. It means our connectedness can be seen by others.
I struggled for a while what to call you. Ours was not a mere friendship and we were not destined to be lovers. I called you my SoulMate for a hot second but that never felt right. Then someone talked about sisters and it struck me who you are to me, SoulSister. Feels so right, feels so good. The only unfinished business about this is that I don't know how you feel about this label. It's deep, it's heavy. I know. And I know you probably can't take on anymore right now - you've got enough deep, heavy to deal with. It's ok because I've been blessed to find my SoulSister and that's more than I probably ever deserved. Love you.
Love,
Jeannie
*********************************
Dear SoulSister,
You're the reason why I'm blogging. I never thought I had anything worthy enough to share with the world but you made me realize my worth. You gave me the gift of me. Thank you.
We connected under unusual circumstances but that's how I think the most valued and profound connections are made - unusually.
You've been asking me what you have done for. Well, let me tell you. You came into my life to transform me. Because of you, I have been transformed.
You took me to places I never thought I'd go. You made me do crazy things I never thought I'd do. You bought words and thoughts to my lips, mind and heart I never knew were there. You bought out the best in me in the worst of times. You opened my soul to the universe and God.
I'm so sorry it's your pain that bought all of this out of me. But in life, it's often tragedy that brings people together. It's in that moment of desperation that people come together. We know that we have to rely on each other to get through the crap. Your pain became my pain. Remember that moment when I broke down for a brief moment? It was magical. Painful, but magical. I didn't know we were going to become as deeply connected with each other as we are right now. I just knew that we had become connected. I never had that gift from anyone else. For that I am so utterly, shamelessly, completely grateful.
It's strange and wonderful how strangers mistake us for a couple. It's the best compliment I've received about any relationship I've ever been in. It means our connectedness can be seen by others.
I struggled for a while what to call you. Ours was not a mere friendship and we were not destined to be lovers. I called you my SoulMate for a hot second but that never felt right. Then someone talked about sisters and it struck me who you are to me, SoulSister. Feels so right, feels so good. The only unfinished business about this is that I don't know how you feel about this label. It's deep, it's heavy. I know. And I know you probably can't take on anymore right now - you've got enough deep, heavy to deal with. It's ok because I've been blessed to find my SoulSister and that's more than I probably ever deserved. Love you.
Love,
Jeannie
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