Taking Inventory

It has been a very long time since I have sat down to write. Too long. Or just long enough, it's hard to say. Winter was long and dark for me. My little haven in the country, my place to heal, had served it's best and worst purpose. I felt safe. I felt comfortable with me. My heart was starting to unclench....Then  I recieved a rather aggressive email from someone regarding a post I had made. Even though I know they are only words. Letters on a screen, with no actual power, they stab at the heart with the force of a dagger. The known intent is enough to rupture the delicate layer of new skin. To bring about a flood of tears and anger, and sadness and grief that clung to my soul well into the Spring.
I had made myself a promise to get back into the world. To get back to writing. Get back to LIVING!!!
So as Summer began, I made a promise to my wife that we would not spend the whole summer working our tails off; too exhausted to do anything and enjoy ourselves. So we did. A big part of that, for me, was walking away from social media. When you are sad and depressed, social media is your best friend. But my wife had already missed out of so much of me through the winter, it was important I make that commitment to her that we are the priority.
We went shopping for plants and fixed the front and sides of the house. We mulched and built stone outlines to the mulch. We put up our little pool. It's nothing fancy, but we swam almost every day. On hot nights, after we got home from work, we would go for midnights swims, looking up at the millions and millions of stars overhead. We would stare at the Milky Way,
 wondering what it must be like up there. Breathe in the damp country air, while the crickets and grasshoppers look for their mates and fireflies dance in the treetops.
We took leisurely drives and listened to great music. We stopped to appreciate the breathtaking views and magical places. We went to concerts and campouts and parties and dinners. We laughed, we cried and we loved; ourselves, our friends, our job, our lives. We were LIVING! It sounds so silly to say. I mean, duh! Of course we're living. But, the question is, how much living are you doing? At least, that was my question. I stopped living. It's not really a matter of when, but more of a 'which time?'
Depression often does that to a person. Throw in a cold, dark and dreary winter and it can spell disaster. I am so very blessed to have friends who caught me before I fell too far and a wife who climbed down to lift me up. I was raised up, off of the ground. Held, hugged, and loved. I was dusted off, cleaned up and sent back out to continue to LIVE. It is what I must do. It is what we all must do. We need to live each day as if it's the only day we have.

At least that is what I have to do. I realize that I only short change myself for allowing another's opnion of me to change who I am. I have the choice to allow someone to hurt me with their words. This summer, I decided to take that power back. It's far to powerful to be floating around, willy nilly, out there for anyone to use against me. Nope. Not me. Not anymore. Well, not if I can help it, right?

It's as if you close your eyes for so long. To protect yourself, to not see what's going on around you. Because, much like dog thought, if I can't see it, it can't see me, then it can't hurt me. But you squeeze so tight, praying not to see the bad, that you no longer see the sunshine, a rainbow or a spectacular sunset.

It's scary to open your eyes. I know. And I know I may well stumble into darkness again and find myself clinching my eyes. I know I will always find my way back to the light. I know I am blessed with those who are in my life and love me. I know there are few Angels here on earth who are watching out for me. I know I am not alone. We are brought here to this beautiful earth for a purpose. I feel I am just really starting to understand what mine is. A big part of that is recognizing the importance of 'today'. Yesterday is gone and it cannot be changed, tomorrow is yet to be. All we can do is live for today. This is what I am trying to do. I am trying to focus on the present, and the blessings that surround me. The beauty that is around us. This is a journey. This is a beginning. The end is yet to be written and that is a beautiful thing. 

Now, after learning to apreciate LIFE I need to start appreciate ME and take better care of my physical being, now that I have a jump start on my spiritual being.... but that's another post. 

I hope your day ends in peace- 

Namasté

Finding Sacred Ground

We moved out to the farm in june of last year. It seems like eons ago, but it was just a few months, seven, to be exact.  The summer was a blur of weddings and prep work in this industry. A flurry of 'ready for this' and 'ready for that', you don't really get to enjoy much of the summer. With the level of stress we were under leading up to the move and the first month or so, it's a wonder I remember much.  But the one thing I did know, was after every long job, after every exhausting unloading of a truck at 1:00 am, after a 16 hour day, I knew I was coming home to our little farm. Our little piece of heaven that no one could touch. No matter how busy and crazy we were, we were always coming back to our home. Our new sacred space. In the beginning, we were surrounded by boxes. But bit by bit, box by box, we were able to unpack. Fully unpack. We, okay Carolyn, unpacked things that hadn't been out of their boxes since we moved too California ten years earlier. We had our stuff and we had a new home. A real home, with life and soul and a pulse, if you will. Something our previous house did not have. We moved to the farm and our windows went open, and the farmland came in. Often, I was serenaded to sleep by the crickets and coyotes. I so often find myself standing still, just listening, feeling, being. It has been quite magical, a divine intervention, if you will.

I have also found myself withdrawing from the world. not in a bad way, per se, but just more of a hibernation state. It is January now, and I don't want to go anywhere unless I absolutely have to. I know that seems odd, to become almost a recluse, but for me, it is the first time in so many years that I am somewhat stress free. My shoulders are returning to a relaxed state, by breathing has slowed to a normal pace. I wake each morning, knowing I will see a pole barn full of hay and a field across the way, playing it's part in the cycle of life. I look out at the birds, flitting to and fro between branches. Dancing ever so delicately with each other to balance on the edge of the feeder. The squirrel waiting on the ground below for the extra seeds to be knocked to the ground. I watch my dogs tromp and run with nature. A game of chase with the cat that joined our clan unexpectedly in July. Or the pure joy of a stick in the yard. They are at peace here too.

People say, "We never see you any more". I say, I know and I am sorry. But I have spent the last six years in a whirlwind of insanity and heartache. Doctor's appointments and school meetings. Fighting and crying and pleading and praying. I have watched my family fall apart, and fought like hell to keep that from happening, to no avail. I am tired. There is no other way to put it, just TIRED. I lost myself to medication, fought back from the brink of crazy because of it, I have fought hard for the well being and safety of my children. I have fought off horrible rumors, created by family, attacks from people who think they 'know' everything about my life. I have suffered near fatal emotional wounds from people I had considered close friends, and had to make heart wrenching decisions regarding my own children that no parent should ever have to face. And I am exhausted.

I have almost completely shut myself off from the real world, in a physical sense. I do my job, socialize when I have to, and then, I retreat. To our little farm, our little gem of peace and calm and silence. To rest, to heal, to recover. I am sure this is a dream for most. It sounds ideal, right? Peace and quite, away from it all. But in reality, you cannot escape the world. At least not forever. I have been healing. Processing and healing. My soul had been deeply wounded. So deeply, many days I wondered if it could be healed at all. Many days in the past six years I wondered if I had the strength to get through it. If it wasn't an issue with one of the children, it was a new story being told about my 'wicked' life. An economy heading south and hours cut at work, adding financial strain. Add in the physical aggression from the children, fighting with carolyn, the doctors appointments, hospital trips and constant state of fear, it was a wonder I wasn't highly medicated and hospitalized myself.

I held on. I cannot tell you exactly how, but I did. I did the 'bob and weave' for six straight years. You reach a point where you are afraid to stop moving. If you stop, it may all collapse around you. If you just keep moving, somehow it will keep going. These are irrational thoughts from someone living a high catastrophe life. Even in the Spring of last year, I was still fighting for this crazy world I had not fully created, but was existing in. It was constant calamity and dysfunction at it's worst, but it had been my world for so long, I held on to it, I fought for it, I defended it...until I could defend it no more.

I was on the verge of cracking, falling into a million little shards. Far to many to ever put back together. I could feel it approaching, the shattering from the inside. A rattling at my core, a shift in my being. I was afraid, I was hollow, I was losing everything I fought so hard for. I could take no more.

And then, like a gift from the universe, a friend told me about a little farm house, out in the country, away from it all. The owner was in need of a tenant, and I in need of a home. One look, one breath of air on this little hobby farm, and I knew this was what was meant to happen. This was my new home. This was where I was meant to be, to rest, to heal, to learn to live again.

This little farm has become my sacred ground, my sanctuary; special and private. I have only invited a few people to visit. That is how sacred this place is to me right now. I have a lot of pain in my soul, a lot of tending and mending to do. This is what I needed. A place for the healing to begin. A place where I could just 'be'. Where I could start to feel the emotions I have shelved and locked away. The pain that settled into my body like a skeletal cloak, so deep, so heavy it weighs you down. Wounds that were old, years and years old, that never healed, but oozed and seeped, reminding you they are still here. Too many wounds to count, too much pain to quantify.

After a while, it becomes part of you. Not a great part, not one you talk about. Just a secret part of you that very few people know about. An itch that you can never really scratch, a deep ache that never really goes away. You learn to manage it, ignore it, look past it. There was no more of that once I got here. I knew this was where I was going to release the pain and set myself free.

And so I write. This is my journey out of the darkness. This is my story, of healing, of hope of personal forgiveness and forgiveness of others. For me. My little farm, my sacred ground has reminded me of the beauty on the world, of the pureness of nature, the precious magic of life and every day is a cherished gift.

So, I heal. Slowly. Because healing means dealing. Dealing with the past, taking control, giving these emotions a name and a place. Feeling them instead of shelving them. Letting my head, heart and soul actually respond to this pain, this grief, this sorrow and then sending it down the lane of life's past roads. These feeling will not be ignored or set as aide any more. They deserve to be felt, heard and dealt with.

My wounded soul is beginning to heal. I know it will be a long process, and not always pretty. Many tears will fall and my heart will hurt again as I process things that have happened, but with each issue, with every moment I allow myself to process, my soul is mending, healing and rejuvenating. Yes, there will be scarring, and those scars will never go away. But one day, soon, those scars will become badges of courage, of survival. I will have made it to the other side, whole again, renewed, more refined.

My hope is, in writing this down, someone out there, who has felt as alone and beaten down and scared as I have felt, they will realize they are not alone. There is hope, there is a light. I will be here holding it for you to follow, and we can make it to the other side together.

Let the Arrow Soar

I came across this meme a while back and it really resonated right now. The end of the year/beginning of the year is often a time of reflections and resolutions. Too often, we reflect negatively on the past year. We see failures and 'shoulda, woulda, coulda's'. We see the weight we didn't lose or that we already gained back, the goals we didn't meet, we see the adventures we never took. We vow this next year, we will be different. We WILL lose that weight, we WILL read 30 books, we WILL do that 5K. We spend a lot of self-loathing and then making false promises to be different next year.

I suggest we try something new this year. And I know it is a week into 2013, but it's never to late to change your perspective.

What if you looked at it this way:

Last year was a tough year. The last two...hell the last 6 years have not been easy. But I am still standing. I reflect on the last year as my arrow being pulled back, waaaay back! I have learned so much this year, about myself, about what I can and can't control and what I really want for me and for my relationship, for my business. I have learned lots and lots of lessons.

I learned who real friends were, and who were meant to be in my life for just a while. I learned how to stand, tall and proud, in defense of not only myself, but of my wife and family. I have reached that great point in life, where an opinion is just that, an opinion. If I don't like what you have to say, I don't have to listen. If you do not like me, so be it. Have a safe journey through life. I realize now, the number of friends you have means nothing if they are not real friends.

I have learned if I do not change how I behave, I cannot expect anyone to behave differently. I recognized I can be very selfish and childish with my needs and I must be more aware of this in the present. I discovered the type of person I really want and need to be, and that person is not mean or cruel, she does not dwell on the past or bathe in negativity. I rediscovered the power of mother nature and her glory and beauty. I was reminded how the winds sounds and grass feels between your toes. The joy of a goofy dog galloping across a field, tongue flapping in the breeze or standing under a summer moon and just breathing in the silence.

I was reminded this past year, that if I don't love and honor myself, how can expect anyone else to do the same.

I rediscovered how it feels to be stress-free and happy and have a good night's sleep and I do not EVER want to go back. and that sometimes you need to retreat and heal, and that's okay.

So 2012, THANK YOU! Thank you for reminding me that in order to shot an arrow forward, you've got to pull back. 

2013-I am so very ready to be shot into the bright beautiful sky and see where I land. Because wherever I land, I will make the very best of it. I look forward to the twists and turns and crazy adventures you shall lay before me. I am so grateful to be alive, to be blessed with a great and growing partner in life and business and a group of amazing people who support us along the way.

Welcome 2013. It's going to be one hell of a year!!

There and Gone:

In a classic tale, where you are in a state of 'disagreement' with your best friend, for so long it's ridiculous, and then you realize you are going to cater the food for you best friends mother's funeral......yes, this is one of those stories.

I don't even know where to start with this one. Donna was friend and was a connection for me. She is the deep mothering type. She understood those who were 'different'. Not so many mother's understand what it's like to raise children who are 'connected'. But Donna did, and he was a friend. Was. Is. So many emotions, so many feelings...so old they are. Tonight I sit here as a friend, aching for another friend, who is hurting beyond words that his mother has passed. Old emotions, anger, whatever it is, it cannot compare to the pain of this. The lose of your mother.

I shake as I write this, as I do not have this magic relationship with my mother. As of now, we are not speaking. I hope this is a temporary thing, we are at a difference of realities right now. I long for this to be a temporary thing, but it is out of my control. Alas, this isn't about me. 

It is about two beautiful souls who have left us this week. I have been emotionally overwhelmed by the whole thing.The irony of it all is the absolute dichotomy of the two deaths within in 48 hours. One, a random head-on collision, snuffing the life of a vibrant young women and her husky pup; the other mother nature drawing out the last breath of a valiant soul...

Perhaps there are some who find peace in this. Perhaps this is just another couple of funerals. Perhaps. But not for me. Two beautiful souls left our earth and I want to be sure to recognize them.

Linden:

You had a fire in you so deep, a soul so bright,  you will continue to shine no matter what  <3

Donna: I am so blessed to have known you. You taught me more about parenting and unconditionally loving than you know. 

Thank you both for being such memorable friends to me. Your spirits will continue to shine bright within my heart.

Peace and Love

  

Untold Stories and Dark Places

Friday, an incredibly brave mother wrote a blog. A blog that has gone viral. A blog that has touched so many people, the emotions are overwhelming.
The Anarchist Soccer Mom http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/12/16/i-am-adam-lanzas-mother-mental-illness-conversation_n_2311009.html

This has struck quite a cord in me. As I opened up the link a friend had posted, I started to read. I began to sob. Just sob. It was as if I was reading my own words. It was so close to my own story.

My twins were born 2 months premature. They day they were born, my wasband was told not to expect twin A to be alive and there were complications with twin B. Both twins survived birth, a scant 2 lbs 15 oz and 4 lbs 1 oz, respectfully. They were tiny, but alive. Struggling, but hanging on. It turned out twin B had a grade three brain hemorrhage, in-utero. She was shunted at 5 weeks old (still 3 weeks before she was due) I was told, best case scenario, severe learning disabilities but they expected cerebral palsy and behavioral issues. These were the long term consequences of a bleed such as hers. I knew our lives would never be simple or easy, and I was hell bent on proving these doctors wrong.

Most the early childhood years were pretty normal, for us at least. Lots of doctors appointments. CAT scans every 6 months. Physical therapy, occupational and speech therapy. They were doing so well, they we progressing past the 'delayed' models and were actual excelling in comparison to 'normal' children. By the time we reached toddler age, the tantrums began, the aggression towards each other became a regular struggle. I was young, these were my first children, and you get no manual for children. You do what you think is best, what your doctors tell you and what you read in Parenting Magazine. You don't question the teeth marks that cover one child, after a brawl over a shaky toy. You follow the pediatricians suggestion and lock yourself in the bathroom with a child when the other is uncontrollably tantrumming and kicking and scratching and biting you and will not stop.
When you have kids like mine, you put that behavior aside and focus on the miracle that is THEM. By the time they were two years old, they could both recite and identify by sight the alphabet and numbers. My daughter, who we were told was going to have learning disabilities, was doing everything they said she never would. Her neurosurgeon called her a miracle.

I'll never forget this one appointment, We were in for our 6 month appointment and my sweet girl had an Etch-a-Sketch, she was 3. She had drawn a dinosaur, a brontosaurus. I thought is was an amazing drawing, but, hey. I am the dotting mother of my miracle baby! I am bragging about how great she is doing, and how artistic she is and about this dinosaur. He looks at the drawing, looks at me and said, she drew this? Yes. Yes she did. He was amazed. From that moment on, I focused on her miracles. Her milestones, that she was never expected to reach. I look at her sister, and focus on her miracle, she was not suppose to be born alive. I turned my back on the excessive aggression that occurred with both of my children. The fights that grew from black and blue teeth marks all over each other, to the deep and scarring scratch marks up and down their arms and legs. I had found several other inflicted wounds on them, on the chest and back. Deep and painful wounds. Call me young, call me naive, but I thought is was a twin thing. They were raised in a loving home. Yes, their father and I were divorced, but they wanted for nothing. They were happy.

Then the night terrors started. My daughter would be screaming and crying or yelling from her bed. When you would rush to her bed, she looked right through you. Eyes vacant and black. I am holding her body, but she is not here. There is no waking a person from this state, at least not suggested. So, you try to calm them down. Sing a song, tickle their back and try to soothe them. Love away some of the fear that was in their body. You think nothing of it, because the following day, her teachers pulls you aside to tell you your daughter got a perfect score on a standardized test. She normally doesn't share test scores, except it was the first perfect score she has ever seen. You focus on your miracle.

Then there was the stabbing incident at my step-mother's house. She stabbed her sister in the shoulder with a pencil. Stabbed, not hit, but with intent to harm. My step-mom tried to tell me then. I said, it's because of the stress (they were staying with my step-parents while I dealt with medical issues of my own). She just is acting out. Then the shoving incident while at the other grandparent's house. Again, I said she is acting out, her grandmother told my sister-in-law- she thought otherwise.

Then puberty really started and we entered a whole new world. A world that is, quite frankly, a blur. It's almost like looking back at a tornado you just walked out of. As the girls entered 6th grade, they were bright, sweet and adored by their teachers. They were so beautifully different, one very artistic and intelligent, despite all of the odds against her, and the other, a fighter from day one, who owned a room the minute she walked into it. They were kind and liked by all of their friends parents (and they still are) and were welcome back anyplace they went. Then they would come home and it was a war zone. Everything was a battle. From cleaning their room to doing chores to the classic nightmare of homework. There wasn't a night that went by where there wasn't an argument over a simple task. The nightly arguments became a vicious cycle. I got caught up in it. I did not know how to effectively shut them down. If I told them to go to their room, a fight would ensue between them in their room. I have locked myself in my own room, while my daughter banged, and kicked and screamed at my door for thrity plus minutes. Then a letter slipped underneath with an apology for her behavior. There were times when the kids would get physically aggressive towards me, swinging and kicking. And then there were times when my daughter would get mad because she wasn't getting her way and would snap. She would huff and puff. Her eyes the size of saucers, dark as night and wild. She would snort and shake and clench her fists. sometimes you had to physically pin her down to keep her from taking a swing at her. And I assure you, she has uber-strength when she is these states.  Not many people sknow about this aspect of my life. They don't know the depths to which our lives went. You don't really speak about these things. You don't often bring this up with co-workers. Or with friends at a bar-b-que.

"How was your you?" Oh, fine, spent all of last night in the ER with my daughter, after she destroyed the house and threatened to kill us, kill our pets, then her sister, then herself. Then we had to wrestle her to the floor and drag her, kicking and screaming like she was going to be slaughtered. Fighting to get her into the car, (because we lived in Oakland and an ambulance would take longer then we thought we had. Plus, my child was going to children's hospital, where they have her CT scans and she won't be sent to some state funded psych ward and put on lithium and left). In the car she went through a roller coaster of "I'm sorry, I love you so much", to "You fucking fat cunt" I fucking hate you" You're gonna pay for this" to "I need to die, I deserve to die, why won't you just let me die.  An hour later, she claims she remembers none of it. But we were too afraid to have her come home so we had to make the heart wrenching decision to have her committed.

Friendships don't last long with those kind of answers. Not really. At least you don't get invited to the next bbq. Who wants Debbie Downer around, right? And I don't mean that to insult any of my great close friends. But you don't start a conversation with hey, does your daughter threaten to hurt you? And let's be honest, how is someone suppose to react to someone telling them about the night we had to commit our daughter? There is no real way, except sorry to hear that. So I kept it inside. It became our little secret.

There is a great level of strain with this happening inside your home. And don't think life slowed down or gave a damn that you were dealing with this. Our stress levels wet at palpable levels. Things were in rapid decline in our house and with our children. Even with mandated counseling for our daughter, nothing seemed to be changing. She is so bright and has the sweetest, most innocent side to her. A child that just needs to be held and told she is loved. A child who wants to be loved, but can't let you in to really love her. She can't feel the love you have for her, or she won't. I don't know. Because that is all I ever did was loved her. Her and her sister.

When you live in a state of chaos, you become part of the chaos. I, we, had become part of the problem. They would argue, we would argue back. They yell, you yell back. It was the edge of the tornado and we were all falling in. My wife was forced out of her job and I went back to work full time and she was responsible for most of the "mom' duties. This went over like lamb chops at a vegan wedding. The wife was out of tolerance for bullshit behavior and the girls were just hitting their stride with teen age attitude and aggression. We reached a heated point where they left the house and refused to come home. We moved them to their father's a month later. We thought it was us, it was our move, it was the school we put them in. I blamed my wife, she blamed the school, we blamed ourselves, we cried and prayed this was the right move. We hoped this was the right decision and they would get back on track. At least, it removed them from the situation they were in here.

After two years, one daughter moved home. The following summer, my other daughter, my miracle baby, moved back too. We knew their were issues. When our first daughter came home, she went into therapy. She battles depression, just like me. When our second daughter moved home, we had a great summer, then school started. And soon she starting telling me she was not feeling well, her shunt was bothering her, stomach cramps, etc. She did not want to go to school. She didn't want to do homework. She didn't want to do chores. She had to obey none of these rules with her father. She pretty much did her own thing, at least according to her sister. Granted, I understand, its hard to come from a place of no rules to a house of rules, but they were basic rules. And the cycle had started again.

Things quickly shifted to chaos again. My business was insanely busy, I had to take her to multiple doctors appointments. Conflict started up again. We tried antidepressants, we started counseling, we switched schools when she was struggling....it didn't help. Soon, the threats started again. The threats to kill us in our sleep. the ominous dream of waking up and the dogs were slaughtered. The stories of paranoia and feeling like people were out to get her. Fearing for her life. She began to tell different people different things, none the same. She began to regress, quickly. She would tell me, "I feel like there are people who are out to get me."Then she would turn around and tell her sister, "If I keeps this up, they'll get rid of me." I didn't know which way was up. I didn't know who to believe or what to do.

Then that fateful Thanksgiving, there was a perfect storm. Tension, pressure and strain were too much and there was an emotional explosion that changed our family forever. Many people would like to play the blame game as to that fated night. I will not. Everyone has their own responsibility for their role. I have moved past it. But my daughter has not.

I write this, because like the women who wrote the blog, I fear for my child. My baby. She moved out of my house, out of my life, and hasn't communicated with me more than in a text in two years. She has not responded to my text in 7 months. But that doesn't mean I don't worry. I don't believe that she would never snap to the level of this horrible creature who shoot those children and teachers. But who does? Who wants to believe that about their child?  I know she has a dark place in her, that when she reaches it, she becomes someone else. Someone she doesn't even know. I know she has a capacity to do what she needs to get what she wants, and is void of the consequence. I know she battles depression and is going untreated and I know she has a penchant for lying. A skill that never fares well for someone. I worry about her, is she okay, is she safe, is she taking care of herself? I prod her sister for information occasionally. I know a little about what is going on in her life. But not enough, not enough to be sure she is alright. I can't protect her anymore. I want her to let me love her, let me in, but she won't. I don't know if this is because she is unwell or she just doesn't want me in her life. I don't know, but I keep loving her. I keep praying she is well. I keep praying one day, she will seek counseling on her own. One day, I hope she realizes she IS a miracle, and any other issues are treatable. I hope she recognizes that she is still my sweet miracle baby, with the best giggle the world can offer. I hope she knows, no matter how hard she pushes me away, I am still here, still loving, still loving...hoping she knows she's not alone. As I know know, neither am I.

My thoughts and prayers go out to the families in this tragedy. Your babies are in the arms of an angel.

Oh, and my other daughter, she is a beautiful soul I am so very proud of <3

Peace

In The Arms of an Angel

Today I was excited to write about the meteor shower that occurred last night.  I stood outside, in the crisp dark night, gazing at the crystal clear sky, little droplets of magic dust shooting through the sky. I listened to the shuffle of some nocturnal creature, foraging for his dinner, the yapping and howling of a passing pack of coyotes in the field across the road. I felt so full of life, energy and awareness, inspired by the mightiness of the universe. Yet humbled, by how truly small we are in the big scheme of things; a speck in the endless universe.

I went to sleep feeling full, by mid-morning today, I was left feeling empty and heart broken. Today, a great tragedy occurred. Today 26 beautiful spirits were taken from this world. Twenty seven families are reeling from what occurred this morning. I may not know these families, or any of their friends or colleagues, aunts, uncles, or neighbors. Yet I am overwhelmed with grief and saddens for them.  I wish I were there to hug them, hold them or just listen to them scream.

In a matter of less than 12 hours, I went from being blown away by the vastness of the universe and the small role we play, to feeling so connected to a situation I am 900 miles from with people I have never met. It is too overwhelming to comprehend how such anger and violence can occur towards innocent people, but it is beyond comprehension to grasp WHY or HOW you could hurt an innocent child? They are pure and full of life, light and laughter. But none of those victims at the school deserved to die. Arguments can be made that Adam (the shooter) deserved to die, but the better question is what happened to him that led to such actions. Was he a failed youth? Was his innocence stripped away too early, as these surviving children's innocence has? What can lead a young man, only 20 years old, to take such heinous actions, weeks before Christmas?

Suddenly, this vast universe just showed no matter how big it may be, we are somehow connected... and how much more connected we need to be.

There have been many conversations about gun control and the right to bear arms today in social media. There have many mean and nasty comments made, and hateful and cruel words said in reaction to this. Some have used this as an opportunity to politicize their views on gun control. But as a good friend said, "If we can't take an hour and mourn the loss of the little souls, it says a whole lot more about our country" (KH). Truer words could not be spoken. As a mother, I sob for these parents. I hurt for these families and the absolute devastation for them. Their lives have been forever altered. Their holiday's forever scarred by this day, by these actions of one young man. I ache for a community who will struggle with how to explain the unexplainable to so many sweet babies, who walked away with their lives, but left their childhood innocence in the classroom. The level of grief is more than they can bare alone. It is more than anyone should have to bare alone.

So with this, I ask all of you to take a moment for the families that were impacted today. Take time out of your night, be silent, be present. Turn off the TV, the computer, the iPod and just be BE present and thoughtful of those families that are crying next to the empty bed of the child who will never sleep in it again. The child who will never see their mom walk through their front door. The brother and son, who must try to understand why Adam killed their mother and so many others. Sit in silence, say a prayer, send the energy into the universe. Just feel love. Feel love for them, feel love for your own family. Squeeze your kids a little tighter tonight. Spend that extra 10 minutes reading a second or third story. Say that extra prayer with them night and go to bed a little more grateful for your blessings tonight.

But I beg you to not let it stop there. I ask you carry this on tomorrow. Think before you snip at the cashier because your coffee is taking too long. Before you gripe at a co-worker or snap at the kids. Be present and take that extra second to smile at someone on the street. Hold the door open for someone, or allow that car in front of you at the light. Focus on not just thinking about "me" and focus on "we". If "we" all start thinking a little bit less selfishly, we may garner more compassion. We may spread more love than hate. We may be able to eek out more happiness than sorrow.

I looked up at the endless sky last night and I saw a universe full of possibilities and promise. I believe we can have world full of possibilities and promise as well. It just needs to be spurred with some hardcore love and light. We need to remember, we are all connected. We can die alone or we can heal together.

Tonight, I ask that we do our part and send all the loving energy you can muster to our brothers and sisters in Connecticut.  You are all in my heart and prayers.

Namaste

A Work In Progress

The Four Agreements is an amazing and life changing book, or better, a manifesto, by Don Miguel Ruiz. He has four principles to practice to create love and happiness in your life. They are:

The Four Agreements are: (from http://www.toltecspirit.com)

1. Be Impeccable with your Word: Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the Word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your Word in the direction of truth and love.

2. Don’t Take Anything Personally Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.

3. Don’t Make Assumptions Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.

4. Always Do Your Best Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse, and regret. 

Straight out of the gate, I thought, I'm screwed! Someone like me could never survive the first principle! I am one snarky lady. So I thought, well, lets skip number one for right now. Let's see how feasible number two is. Nope. Gonna be a tough one here too. I am ridiculously sensitive. I take everything personally. I battle depression and anxiety, so by nature I am a insecure, and with that, am easily hurt by words and actions. So, now I am thinking, you already are incapable of doing 50% of the principles, perhaps you should just close the book and walk away. But, I hadn't bought the book for light toilet reading, so suck it up cupcake! I looked at number three. I chuckled as I realized, while reading this, I had just made two assumptions that I could not follow these principles. Then I read the line about avoiding misunderstandings, sadness and drama. DING DING DING DING!!!!! Okay, okay...if I want to remove the drama and sadness from my life, then I was going to have to make big changes to ME! 

So, off on a journey of rediscovery on a kinder, gentler, less sensitive me. This has been a six years in the making. I am a work in progress. One thing I've learned, it's hard to work on any self improvement while your in a boxing ring. Much of the last six years of my life have been brought to you from the middle of that ring...and I was getting my butt kicked! This makes something like, "Don't Take Anything Personally" nearly impossible. I have been blessed with an amazing therapist. She really helped me traverse the firestorm that was my life, and showed me that I cannot control how anyone else is going to behave. I cannot control anyone else's emotions or reactions, but I can control my part in it all. Only I can control me, my reactions. She showed me I have a central part in all of the bad relationships. I am a key component in this life. I am not a victim in any of this. I am a player. I bit of a hard pill to swallow in the beginning. 

The real way to end drama is not to react to it, to not let it get to you. Once again, this is something I have not quite mastered. I wouldn't even say I am past apprentice level, but I am constantly working on it. I woke up Friday to a nasty email. Several things were said about me. It was even suggested I check out a link on narcissistic personality disorder. Okay, I giggled about that, but just the tone of the email, the things that were said, which I knew were completely false, I let them get to me. I took them personally. Then I reacted by transferring it towards my daughter. I let my brother have it, via text! Oh lord, epic fail on the four agreements! What a mess! I lost it. I spent two days just consumed with the spitefulness of people. The constant lying and the emotional blackmail. Although I knew starting this blog was not going to be received well by all, I still was not emotionally prepared to handle the repercussions. Or more accurately, I allowed this person to get to me. I allowed their reaction to drive my reaction. This person always does. We all have people like that in our lives. People who just cause knee-jerk, wrenching reactions from you. 

Luckily, I have realized this concept of "never let them see you cry" is bullshit! I threw my distress to the universe, and my internet sister and brothers, and I was caught before I could fall. I was drenched in love and support and reminders that I am not the product of other people's opinions, I am the product of my own actions. And with that, I took some time and really absorbed what had occurred. I recognize now that I did exactly what was expected of me by the person who sent the email. They reacted to my blog. I reacted to them. The email was sent for that reason alone, to get a reaction from me. I was invited back into the drama, and I walked right through the door. I didn't write the post for them, I wrote it for me. 

So I continue my journey to better control myself. To work on the four agreements and making them more of a daily part of my life. To recognize that laying my thoughts out in a blog automatically makes me target for anyone's opinions. I will not always handle it well, but hopefully I will get better at pulling myself out of it. In the end, it's the whacky part of being human. We have emotions, hearts and feelings; even the coldest of us. An angry soul is a wounded soul.

In the real world, those who reach Nirvana, are usually the monks who live alone, in a vow of silence, on a mountain top. How easy it is to find peace when there is NOTHING to stress you out or push your buttons? That is not the real world. This is life, and life is full the people we don't get along with,  jobs that are stressful, families that pull you in every direction and bills.... Lets get real. If any of us can learn to utilize any of the four agreements in everyday life, we will be a little better off.

In the end, we all want a life a little more peaceful and filled with more love and happiness than anger and sorrow. Everyone feels better when they are happy. Who doesn't want to laugh over cry? Who really wants to feel angry all the time? I can tell you, when you are happy, your soul feels lighter, your heart feels lighter and the world is just a brighter place! I continue to work on the balance.

So the sign above my door continues to say A Work In Progess!

 Namaste