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

Thank You Teacher, Good Lesson.

This morning, I woke up to an email form someone unhappy with my previous blog. I was very upset about it. Other things were said in the email that cut me deep and I spent a good portion of the morning in tears. I had a reactionary response (something I am working on) and shared my distress with a few people. Their response was overwhelming. It was exactly what I needed. There was a lesson to be learned. I just had to stop reacting and listen and see what the lesson was. Today, I learned a lot, about myself, about my friends and about no regrets and letting go.

The last post was a raw and open one. It was pure in emotion and straight from my heart. This may be upsetting to some, because they see things from a different stand point. I understand that. This is my story, my view. I did not start this blog to bitch about people to make them look bad. I am not here to blame or point fingers. I started this to share my story. A story of MY life, from my view point. if you don't like what you are reading, you may stop and leave the page. I will not be offended. 

Most of my posts will be somewhat raw. It is the way the story goes. I often don't mince words or sugar coat. I'm a 'tell it like it is' kinda person. But more than that, I am not ashamed, embarrassed or regretful of my life. Is it what I thought it would be when I was 18 and heading out into the world? Lord no! My life has taken twists and turns down roads I could never had dreamed of. But at the end of the day, I wouldn't change a thing. Because I am damn proud of who I have become and if even one thing were different in my life, I may not be...ME.

Everyone has their own story. Everyone has heartache, tragedy and sorrow in their life. Anyone can find something to be happy or grateful about and good things to focus on too. It's all about choice. You can look at your life from a place of regret, but as long as you are looking back at the woulda, shoulda, coulda, life is passing you by. It's not how you fall down that defines you, it's whether you pick yourself up and keep on moving. Otherwise, you are just flailing on the ground, whining and crying over why things are the way they are. Why did this happen? I should have done this, I wish I had done that......Guess What. Who knows why it happens, who cares why it happened, you can't change any part of it. The most you can do is stand up, dust yourself off, look back and say, I would like to not have this happen again, learn from it turn around and walk away. Easy words, difficult action.

I was a 'flailer' for a long time. Most of my life, actually. Little lessons learned here and there, but I spent a good portion of my life comfortably blaming others for my situation, my problems. I struggled with regret, spending too much timing dwelling on things I should have done differently in my life. How things could have been different....woe is me, woe is me. I had the 'victim' down pretty good. This is of course, exacerbated by my own battles with depression and anxiety mixed with poor eating habits and high stress living. Which means I was a down right hot mess when the victim in me decided to come out.

Then came therapy (God Bless a good therapist) and a decision that I was tired of feeling sorry for myself all of the time. I was tired of being the victim. it didn't matter what happened in the past, yesterday or even five minutes ago, because it's over and done with and all of the wishing, crying or lamenting will not change that. What purpose am I serving wishing I could change something unchangeable? There is none. Life is a series of lessons, known or unknown. If we dwell on what we cannot change or how things could have been different, then you are missing the point of life.

I have said it before, I am far from perfect and filled with flaws. I am a classic Scorpio, I wear my heart on my sleeve and am incredibly emotional. Too emotional for many. My feelings get hurt quickly and deeply. I am working on that too. But it is just who I am. I have come to accept that about myself. I must focus on not letting myself or anyone else tell me I am a failure because of the choices have made. I could get buried in regret, if I allowed my self too. Every once in a while, I have to have a 'coming to Jesus' meeting with myself about my past and who I am today. And it is nothing short of a miracle that I am here today. So I hold my head up high that I have made it this far. 

I used to think, Ugh, If only I had not married my first husband, my life would be so different...but then the question becomes, would it be better? Who can answer? If I had not gotten pregnant (yes, it came first) and married this man, I would not have my children. And although raising children is often filled with heartache, I wouldn't change a thing about it. Not even their touch and go birth and first few months of life. It has taught me I have a deeper strength in me than I ever knew. I wouldn't change the first marriage I had, because It taught me I deserved to be respected and loved unconditionally and I mattered. I wouldn't change my years on a medication that made me crazy, as it has changed me forever in ways I cannot describe. I don't regret our move to California or the impending insanity that entered our lives from that moment on. It has, again, shown me my own strength to survive. Many things that have happened, I can honestly say I still am not sure of what the lesson was, but I am open to realize it when the moment is right. 

My issues with my family, my estrangement from them. There is no blame, no victimization for me They are who they are, I am who I am....in the end, I still don't regret where it's gone. I am stronger, more fierce, more determined to move forward and very proud of ME! I don't care who else is proud of me, because they do not define my worthiness. Only I do. And although my history could be seen as sad or tragic, I don't want to see it that way. Because as much as we wish things to be different, they aren't. And in some cases, they never will be. It must be accepted and you must move on. Realizing, you could be sad and blue about it, or you can find a positive lesson for your life and take it and move on down your path.

So as I shake the adrenaline rush from the morning email, as I absorb the wise words of my wonderful friends, I am reminded that this is my goal, No Regrets. No Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda.
He who lives in the past has no future. I want a future. I want peace, I want happiness and joy. You cannot have any of those things, truly, if you dwell in the past and live with regret and let life's lessons pass you by.

Another day in the journey for a peacful life. 

Thank You Teacher, Good Lesson

Influence and the Power of Words

I have a friend who has been telling me lately that she admires me and admires my strength. She has been inspired by me because I tell it like I see it and I don't care what people think. She told me she is taking back control of her life because I reminder that she CAN have control. I don't even know what to say when I hear this, because I see myself simply as someone who is just trying to survive. I am humbled to the soul that anyone would see me and find admiration, as I never felt admirable growing up. I was always told, if I was just a little ".....", different, I would be better. So admiration is a weird word for me. I am uncomfortable with being admired, as I don't know if I am admirable in such a form. I am merely a girl, surviving, best I can, in this world. I will say I have had a very long journey in this life, and many lessons have been learned. But still, I am just a floundering fish out of water most of the time, the word admiration leaves me floundering even more. I feel a sense of responsibility with it. Not that I don't try to live a better life, a truer life, because I do. I indeed try to live a grateful life. To release the past, release the anger and pain and focus on the present. I do.  

I also speak my mind. As my wife says, I have no filter. I often don't. I don't say things to shock, I just say things I feel. I call it as I see it. I do wear my heart on my sleeve and it is open and raw and out there. Often it makes people uneasy, because they don't know what to say. I don't share what has happened in my life to garner a response. I share because it makes the weight of the world lighter. The more I share my story, the more it simpley becomes part of the story, part of my journey, part of who I am,  it no longer controls me. Well, at least not all of the time. And, for me, this is a great stride. I have not been best at dealing with life. I am prone to anxiety attacks, and was, for a while, almost house bound with anxiety. I have had my fair share of panic attacks and vertigo. I have allowed myself to be emotionally beaten up, and fall into horrible depressions. I am my own worst enemy, with out question. So, this is why admiration for me is an awkward subject. I try to appreciate life, but sometimes, I am lucky and happy to survive a day. My have banished many demons from my life, and many have stayed away. There are a few family demons that are harder to fight. I still battle insecurities, my mother, wasband and children can get to me in a heart beat, but I try to not let them take control, or at least not for too long.

I try to focus and pull myself back from the cliff's edge, amidst the chaos, and focus on today, the here and now. Be mindful of the morning shadows, of the steer's bellow. Relish the goofy dog who tromps round the yard with giant stick. The crisp country air and the bright night stars. I try to remind myself of my greater purpose. It may not be clear to me yet, but there is one. And I have reached the point in my life, where, if I you are not in my life to bring joy, love and laughter or anything else positive, then you are not worth being in my life. I have lived through heartache, and I have my fair share of it now. I will no longer bring in negativity into my life.

In the end, I guess my friend has had a significant impact on me by telling me she admired me. As, now, I admire her for taking charge of her life and working towards living a happy life. I am inspired by her, to share, that no matter where you are, this is only part of your journey, and your path is forever changing. Embrace it. Make it the best it can be. Find happiness in all that you can, even the smallest of things can change your life for the better.

Peace

Taking Control of the Holiday Blues

As many of you know, I try very hard to live a life of gratitude, to stop and appreciate the little things. I try to be present with the day and not dwell on the past or get too caught up in the future. I try to live the here and now. TRY. Too often I am not that successful. This is one of those times.

The Holidays are a tricky business for me. When I was a child, I cherished the long drives from Chicago to Nebraska for the holiday's, knowing in a few short hours, I would see my cousins, aunts, uncles, parents and grandparents. It was a magical time for me, regardless of the holiday. I so enjoyed spending time with them. Then divorce hit and trips grew less frequent. Age fell upon me and my selfish desire to live MY life stepped in. Then I grew up. What a sad day indeed.

As I had my own family, I tried to recreate those magical childhood memories for my own children. We spent many holiday's in Nebraska with family, or had big celebrations at our house, often inviting my daughter's father. I can only hope my children will someday fondly remember those holidays. I hope someday they will cherish those special letters from santa, the Christmas miracles that did occur. The cookie making, present wrapping and the joy of Christmas morning.

Those are the memories I long for right now. Holiday's have not been the easiest for us, as of late. My children moved in with their father when they were 13. From that moment on, there has been a shift in the holiday air. The simple joy of the holiday's have been marred by notes of anger, bitterness and resentment. The spirit of the season has been charged with negative and ultra-senstivie energy. The innocence is gone. This makes me very sad. This sadness is deep, and can get out of control if I allow it.

I have twins, to be 19 in exactly one month. My one daughter hates me, really hates my wife, and has not spoken to me in two years. Only intermittently between the age of 13 and now. And because I have the über dysfunctional family, my mother, father and my daughter's father, are all involved in this. Matter of fact, my brother, his wife and his kids are all involved too. NONE of them speak to me. We are evil, if you ask any of them. Well, My brother and I text on holiday's, and I do talk to one of my nieces'. But ultimately, I have only my one daughter who speaks to me.

She moved back to Arizona in June. Back to where her father lived. Back to her twin sister. I had a great fear that I would lose her with this move. It is hard to defend, even in your own mind, someone who is held with great disdain, by those around you. It wasn't a matter of questioning her love for me as her mother, but more of the 'out of sight, out of mind', especially when your are the perceived bad guy all the time.  Alas, I had to pull myself out of my own head. A) She is 18, she doesn't think about me to begin with. B) sadly, neither my other daughter or anyone else in my family think about me to begin with. So the paranoia was self-involved to begin with.

Isn't it ironic? How being shut out by your whole family can turn your world into a state of paranoia and doubt? Now, when my daughter doesn't contact me on my birthday or on Thanksgiving, I somehow make it about me. Because I am hurt. Because I feel left out in the cold. I feel dejected, unloved and uncared for, because no one thought of me. My reaction is, 'Oh, of course, Dad's in town. Once again, he is super awesome and I am dog meat. Oh, and that's right, you won't call me on Christmas either, because you'll be with my mother, having a lovely family holiday that I am not included in, where i am sure unkind things are being said about me. Oh, ya, MY birthday isn't worthy of your attention, because you are busy with your boyfriend or your sister. All the while, we are planning and buying all of these great  Christmas and birthday presents for you and your ungrateful sister who won't even speak to me!!'

So starts the train of despair and sorrow and anger.....It is a dark and cold train. Running through the Siberian night with it's doors wide open.

So, when I woke up in the middle of the night, crying and cold, I dwelled, stewed, wept and shook. I rose with a dark cloud over my heart. I woke with no Christmas spirit. I solely wanted to climb back in bed and pull the covers tight and block out the world and block out the hurt and block out the sorrow. But I can't do that. I can't lay down and die on that cold dark train. The Holiday spirit that I once loved and cherished is still within me. It is MY choice, not theirs, that I control. Only I can make this a wonderful holiday season. Only I can replace this sense of loss with my own love. I cannot make someone love me or think of me. I cannot make my family miss me. It is not my purpose here. I am not perfect and I have far from led a perfect life. I have made plenty of mistakes. But the past is the past. I have forgiven myself and learned from the things I have done and hopefully will lead a better life for it. But that is all I can do.

I did the best I could to raise my family and love those around me. I raised two great kids. One is just a lost and searching soul. I must have faith that some day my daughter will find her way back into my life. But I must also accept the fact this will most likely never happen. The damage caused by my mother and her father is too great. They have taught her to never forgive. But, again, I must accept this is nothing I can control.
I must accept that although my mother gave birth to me, this does not mean she will love me unconditionally. I cannot confuse my needs with her abilities. I have accepted that my adoptive father will just NEVER get past this word 'gay'. He has created this evil wicked world I live in and that is that. I must remember my niece's are young and have a lot of their own life lessons to learn.
I must remind myself that my other daughter is only being all that a soon-to-be 19 year old should be. I would love for her to think of me more often, but this is a selfish need of mine, because she is all I have left of this family I once knew. I am being selfish for expecting her to care the way I need her to care at this point. She is being normal, I am being needy. She is a beautiful soul and I am blessed to have her in my life.

Today I will spend the day enjoying, reflecting and cherishing the sweet little family I do have; my amazing wife, who has really shown me unconditional love and taught me anything good IS worth fighting for. And my three crazy dogs, who bring love and laughter into my life every day. I shall stand outside, albeit briefly, and breathe in the crisp, cold farm air. Garnering peace from this beautiful place we call home.

This year, I shall not allow the sadness to grab hold. This year, I am jumping off the train.
I shall write it down and release it. I shall simply 'set it free' and be content with the blessings I have. I shall remind myself that although she is my mother, I cannot make her love me or even be kind to or about me. I will remind myself that these children are not even 19. They are built to only think about themselves at this age. I shall not take their actions personally, as they are not acting with intention (well at least not one of them). I will remind myself that he is my wasband for a reason, and they are still as valid now as they were then.

The the most important message I will focus on telling myself over this holiday season is that I am LOVED. I am true, I am me and I am lovable, sweet, kind and caring, to those who are loving in my life. If someone; mother, father, daughter, niece or a jackhole down the block, does not want to be a part of my life, then that is their choice and their loss. This does not mean I will ever stop loving them. It just means I need to put that love in a little box, tie it with a bow and put it under the tree. If they want it, they can come and get it. It will be there year round. It will be there forever. If it is not reciprocated, that is fine. It will no longer define me. It only defines them. I shall tend to my wounded soul. Slowly heal the wounds and fill the empty spaces with love and light.
With that, I say to all of you who struggle through the holiday's, release the anger and pain and replace it with love and light. Or at least try.
Namaste

LAF on the farm, so the journey begins....

It is hard to know where to begin, so I guess I will just start at the beginning of this journey. We moved to this farm on June 15th. It was a crazy, stressful and hectic move to say the least. True friends were discovered that day. But more than anything, a step was taken in my life that I didn't know I was ready to take. We moved to a farm. I  moved to a farm. In the middle of no where. ME, a girl born and raised in the suburbs of Chicago. Yes, I had family in Nebraska who had a small town/farm life. My aunt had a farm and I used to love it as a child, and my cousins loved it more, because I wanted to get out of bed and gather the eggs and feed the chickens and the goats and cows. But I always went home to my suburban life. Even as my life went on, I was an urban/suburban girl who knew how to make it happen in the city.
We left California at the start of the recession. We wanted to try to take our catering business to the next level, recession or not, and we knew we could not stay where we were.
We moved back to the mid west in December of 2008. It was the best and worst choice of our lives. it was the best decision we could have made for our business and I we have done exceptionally well considering the recession. We also lost our best friend in the process. It has been a very hard few years, with much heart break and many ups and downs. Our world was coming to a screeching halt when a friend said, 'I know someone who has a farm'. That was it, it did not matter the farm was 40 minutes away from our town. It did not matter that we had no information about this place or the owner. I knew something was right about it. We got the general location and we drove over to look at it. I knew this was our place. Our home. We new we wanted to live here before we even saw the inside.

To preface this move in, our previous home was plagued with issues and a unwilling landlady, but more, the house had no soul. Life was not easy in that house, but there memories still...I will try to keep them all positive. But a bitter taste was left when we moved...

So the farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere was a fresh start, a new beginning. And so the tale begins....
Please join me in the LAFable stories from the farm.