I Write

Sometimes I lose my words. Don't for a moment interpret that to mean I stop talking...alas, one aspect of my anxiety is that I talk MORE when I'm uncomfortable. But most of what I say is a nervous effort to fill the silence, because if it gets too quiet, I risk getting close to the inside of me.

Yesterday I attended a writer's retreat and one of the questions posed was "why do you write?"

There are lots of reasons people write, but my answer to that question is I write to heal. And I write to find out who I am.

In one short exercise we were asked to get quiet, close our eyes, allow an image come to us. So we did that, and then she told us to write about our image.

I don't know why I thought of the shower in my parent's bathroom when I was growing up, but I did. It was the scene of numerous painful experiences for me...and I've never really let myself get close to them.

The song "Glitter In The Air", which I had never heard before, was playing as we wrote, and I tried to capture and release that memory...to let it, too, become glitter in the air.

That is why I write.

Grateful for

1. Discovering the art of writing; I'd never thought of myself as a person with anything worth reading.
2. Meeting lots of my online heroes in real life for the first time. You're a source of continuous inspiration and insight. What a gift!
3. 2nd Annual Studio Night...I created something I've been planning to do for almost a year. I'll share it soon.
4. BONUS: Finding my words.

Scot-Free

Tendrils of steam drifted upward as streams of hot water raced down her body in the small, square shower. She was busy rinsing any trace of stubble from her dad’s Schick razor so he wouldn’t know she’d used it, when she heard the bathroom door handle jiggle. Instantly tense, she watched the lock give way and the handle twist all the way to the right.

"Ha!” she thought to herself as he tried several times to push the door open without success. She’d learned via prior experiences that the lock was worthless against intruders. By jamming a heavy chair from the dining room at an angle under the doorknob, she'd barricaded the door. It almost surprised her that it worked. After a few hard shoves with no luck, he pulled the door shut again, and left her to shower in peace.

She had just lathered up with soap when suddenly the entire door was pushed straight into the bathroom, crashing against the sink. He had removed it from the hinges…a possibility she’d never even considered. 

Shock from being out-smarted was fused with fury and fear. Shoving the chair out of the way, he approached the shower door. She could see his face, distorted by the frosted plexiglass, reveling with perverse pleasure in his torture of her. He’d won again.

“Get OOOOOOUT!” she screamed at him over and over while desperately clinging to the shower door handle to keep it closed. It was slippery business. He was not only stronger, but also had the advantage of being dry. And not naked.

Traumatized that he could see even her smudgy outline through the door, she managed to hold him off for several long moments all while praying he’d give up and just leave.

Suddenly, the thin panel of clear plexiglass that ran along side the door fractured, and a long crack appeared. “Now you’ve done it! You’re going to be in SO MUCH TROUBLE when mom and dad get home!” She was almost glad it had happened. He broke the shower!  Finally she had proof, hard evidence of his behavior. Surely he'd be punished this time!

Distracted by the broken side-panel, her focus on the door momentarily lessened, and with one great yank, he suddenly pulled it away from her.

Cowering down in the corner in a futile attempt to conceal herself from him, hot tears of rage mixed with water spraying down on her. He just stood there without a word, raking his smug eyes back and forth across her body.  “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! Get out of here!” she screamed endlessly, as the water gradually grew colder and colder.

Validation

Happy Thursday!
This is one of my all-time favorite shorts. Sending it out to all my awesome bloggy friends. Have a great day!!!



Grateful for:
1) You. You Are AWESOME!
2) Met a new insta-bestie at work this week. You never know when you wake up in the morning what treasures the day will hold.
3) Today Doc starts his Transitional Year...he's earning money again!!!!

Golden Nuggets

Whenever I spend time with a friend (and it doesn't matter whether it's in person or on the phone), inevitably there is a golden nugget that I take home from the experience that enriches my life or teaches me something new. I can scarcely think of a time this hasn't happened. There is always a take-away moment that makes my life better. I just have to look for it.

I love that about my friends!

Grateful for:
1) Being inspired to join a gym
2) Being inspired to start baking bread
3) Being inspired to create a home out of this house. Finally.

Boundaries

This is going to be a rather Stream of Consciousness post.

About 15 years ago while living in Chicago, I attended a class taught by a friend named Maci who was a social worker. Her lesson was on the subject of healthy boundaries, which was a concept I had never even heard of before that night. It was one of the most eye-opening discussions of my life to that point.

A healthy boundary is a space around yourself that gives you a sense of security and safety, where you feel supported, respected, and peaceful. I'd add that trust is one of the most important requirement for healthy boundaries to exist.

One of the most important things parents can do is to establish and maintain healthy and appropriate boundaries with their child, and within the relationships their child has with other people (friends, siblings, relatives etc.).

When this doesn't happen, a variety of symptoms occur, which I won't get into (visit Señor Google if you want more info), but in many cases children become "people pleasers"...which, as it turns out, is how I responded to my situation. Awesome!

We all know people pleasers...those who say "yes" when they mean "no" (or have no opinions in the first place), who are generally full of self-doubt, self-blame, shame, and humiliation. They go to great lengths to get love and approval from others, but no matter how much they get, they never feel loved or good about themselves. They take any criticism as fact, are more concerned with others' feelings than their own, and have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility, expecting of themselves magical abilities such as being able to fix the problems of important people in their lives (like their parent's marriage, for example. Which endeavor is made possible through the absence of healthy boundaries. As it turns out.)

I learned early in my life to bury my own feelings, needs, and wants (or to not have any feelings, needs or wants), and like your typical pleaser, I chronically confused attention (of any sort) with love, and self-sacrifice with caring for others.

Maci's class that night was life altering in that I was introduced to all the different kinds boundaries that exist, and how they impact our lives.

Most of us are savvy about appropriate physical boundaries and aren't going to let someone push, punch, kick, or hit us without trying to stop it. Emotional boundaries are also fairly easy to identify; you realize it's not okay to let people insult you, call you names etc. Harder to isolate (especially for a child) are mental boundaries, which involve knowing that you have the freedom to express your opinions and thoughts without being ridiculed or judged.

So Why Am I Talking About This Now?

I've been thinking about my response to various boundary violations in my life lately. As a child I was a complete doormat with people who crossed the line, but as an adult something changed in me.

The first time happened when I was about eighteen, and after years of putting up with a certain girl's , I just suddenly "snapped". I adopted a "life's too short to deal with you" attitude and annexed her from my life. Suddenly she had no power over me, because I didn't care about her or her life or opinion or anything about her any more". So there!

I felt completely justified at the time. And indeed, an important part of healthy boundaries is not letting people walk all over or abuse you. But what isn't part of it is any kind of retaliation or revenge. While I've never been the mean-spirited type, I do confess secretly hoping that other people would follow suit and shun her like I had...which I'm not proud of but I was young and naive at the time.

A few years passed before my next "snap" moment when I'd suddenly had enough. This time the person was a little closer to home, and while I didn't completely sever ties, something was deeply broken, and it has been a long process to repair it.

Then four years ago it happened again, and at the risk of sounding like a serial "fight or flight-er", I'll confess that this time it was my parents that I cut off. [gasp!]

At the time it was almost an act of self-preservation; having them in my life was so toxic for me that I was starting to spiral downward into a deep depression. One desperate night I finally sent an un-offensive as possible note requesting that they not contact me or my family any more. (I tried to cut them off nicely. You know, good old people-pleaser me )

As unexpected and shocking as this move was coming from me, you can't possibly imagine how liberating it was. I felt like a gajillion pounds of anxiety was lifted off my shoulders. I could finally breathe.

It took some time, but eventually I started to wonder if I would ever reconcile with them. I had no desire to (still don't), and was fine with where I was about the situation. After all, I had evolved to a better place than my eighteen year-old self in that I didn't wish them any ill-will. I genuinely wanted them to be happy and enjoy their lives (just without me in it). And I took precautions to not taint any relationships they have with people I'm friends with.

I've also spent endless hours and piles of money we don't have, working to supersede the things I've experienced. I'm trying to overcome the "disease to please" that is such an established habit, and develop healthy boundaries in all the relationships I'm in. I'm trying to find out who I am, what I want, need, like.

One thing I do like is something Oprah said: "Forgiveness is releasing the hope that things could have been different. True forgiveness is realizing the gift in a bad childhood – and learning from it. Every experience you’ve had makes you who you are and makes you more yourself. Your unique personality and spirit wouldn’t be yours if you had different parents or siblings – even if you got a bad deal."

I still have a hard time trusting my parents, and, by extension, forgiving them. And when I do get to that point, I don't know if forgiveness will include having them back in my life in some way or not (I don't believe they necessarily go together).

For now I'm working on it, but every time I get a little closer, I seem to have a set-back. Trust is one of those hard things that, when broken, is difficult to repair. Probably my parents greatest shortcoming was the lack of healthy boundaries within our family, and I don't have any reason to think things have changed in the past four years.

Still, I'm trying to feel my way towards a less all or nothing response to boundary violations in my life, because I'm guessing there will be plenty more in the future and I'm sure there's a more Christ-like way of reacting to people who cross lines. I'm exactly not sure what it is, but I suspect I'll find it. Eventually.

Grateful for:
1) Maci's lesson of long ago. And all inspired teachers.
2) Today's loaves of bread rose a little more than last week's...still not quite right though.
3) Promised sunshine.
*•♫*♥Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥*♫´¯`☆
Luke 6:27-29

The Mother of All Candy Cards

I finally did the video like I promised. Here is Doc reading the candy card I made him for his birthday last month, which was the day before he graduated from medical school.

Grateful For:
1) Friends. Don't they just make life grand?!
2) Sunny, hot days. 'Cause we've had a shortage of them round here this year. (It's only 55 degrees Fahrenheit right now!)
3) Our kids are taking swimming lessons. I'm so glad about this! (I've been rather a lame mom in the making sure my kids are well-trained in water department.)
*•♫*♥Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥*♫´¯`☆

E for Effort?

I'm a yeast flunkie. I really am. In my life, any attempt at baking a yeast-based dough has been a flop. I'll buy all fresh ingredients, and follow the instructions, yet even my old bread machine fails to supply me with bread that has risen.

But I'm determined to turn this weakness into a strength. Last year my friend Jackie taught a bread-making class, which got me excited and gave me a desire to do it, but as I didn't have any fancy mixer like she'd used, I never actually tried it on my own.

But I was very excited about the addition of a KitchenAid to my baking tool kit last week, and resolved that TODAY was the day! I would conquer my poor track record, face my yeasty fears, and produce honey whole wheat bread from scratch.

Naturally it was the first really hot day we've had all year. But when we turned on the AC, nothing came out. So here I am, heating up the place with the oven, while our air conditioner is on vacation. Strike one.

I decided to cut the recipe in half, to make sure it would all fit in the stand mixer. I got to the add yeast part and realized the packet of yeast I had wasn't quite as much as Jackie's Foolproof Bread recipe called for. Strike two!

The packet I had didn't have an expiration date on it, so I just hoped it wasn't dead. I found an unopened jar of yeast in my fridge, way in the back where it's been all nice and cold for the past 4 years. It HAD expired back in 2007 (strike 3), but I was banking on it still being potent due to it's unopened, frigid status. I threw some of that yeast in for good measure.

Then Glory Hallelujah they started rising in the pans! When they were more than double their original size, and had peeked a bit above the rim, I turned the oven on to bake them. Now our oven has a temperature setting, but I also have an oven thermometer inside the oven. Unfortunately there is almost a hundred degree difference in what they tell me, and I don't know which one is closer to the truth, so I always just try to watch things when I bake. Unfortunately they didn't rise any further once they were in the oven. (Strike 4)

I don't know what happened with that batch...if the oven killed them or what. They tasted fine, if a bit dense.

Something I should have noticed before I made my illustrious plans was that I don't really have bread pans. I have one very large glass pan, and a few of those disposable mini-loaf sized pans. So, my friend Shelah to the rescue...she loaned me her pans, and while I was there she also threw in a few packs of yeast for good measure.

I came home and decided to whip up aNOTHer batch using the fresh yeast packs, and I followed the recipe to the letter, but the same thing happened as the first two loaves.

So clearly I'm still having yeast issues even after all these years. But I will figure this out. And I WILL have success sooner than later. I'm bound and determined.

Grateful for:
1) The chance to learn new things. Even if my end results weren't worthy of giving away today (Drat! Because I had a few intendeds who don't even know that they missed out.).
2) Summer! I love Summer!
3) Unexpectedly, Doc is NOT going to be out of town this week. First week of summer, and we're all together! Need to make a plan for this precious time.
♥

Hand-Me-Downs

As a kid, that phrase had a negative connotation. As the oldest girl, clothes weren't passed down to me from a big sister; no, it was Darcy N's old bras, and April P's used underwear, or Carrie D's pants that I was bequeathed to round out my thrift store wardrobe. I didn't mind because it was "new to me", but did secretly fear that they'd tell people I was wearing their cast-offs. How mortifying that would be!

Nowadays, I am still the recipient of hand-me-downs, and second-hand items, but far from minding, I totally love it. Ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you that I get all my clothes from "thrift stores and friends"...the latter being why I ever look fashionable at all. (I've often wondered if it's a secret team effort to keep me off of the show What Not To Wear because they always seem to be getting rid of the nicest stuff for some reason!).

I have quite a few friends who have bequeathed me things through the years...including generous gifts and new items. For example, today I became the owner of this KitchenAid stand mixer when a friend upgraded and no longer needed her original one. Can I tell you how SO excited I am about this?! I have wanted one for decades, but just never could justify buying one. I've even entered contests a few times to try and win one, but apparently my contest-karma wasn't functioning at the time.

I have never had a stand mixer before, and it was only last month that I used one for the first time to make Doc's birthday cake (which didn't dampen my interest in acquiring one any). And now suddenly I own one! It's like magic.

Throughout my life I've received hand-me-down pretty much everything: car(s), clothes, toys, appliances, furniture, tools, books, shoes. Growing up it wasn't chic to wear used, but what was once something of an embarrassment has now become a "green movement" and acquired a bit of clout (and let's not even mention the whole vintage/antique realms). Against all odds, and by the grace of good friends, somehow I'm becoming hip in spite of myself :-) Life is Grand!

Grateful for:
1) How easy it was to make those oatmeal raisin cookies today.
2) How easy it will be to start baking my own homemade bread!
3) Those who "upgrade" and pass along. Someday when I can afford it, I'l leave the great deals to others who can't, but for now I'm so glad there are people who buy nice stuff and then donate it.
♥