Peace Be With You

Being vulnerable to God in front of other people is hard for me.
I can't predict when something will touch my heart and the tears rise up.
That's probably a good thing.

Today at Mass, the tears rose up unexpectedly and I struggled through the rest of the Mass to keep from crying one of those ugly faced snot nosed cries. Hearing about the disciples being in a room with the door locked because they were afraid of the Jews and Jesus appearing in the midst of them saying, "Peace be with you" I got a very clear thought that when the door of my heart is locked because I'm afraid, Jesus comes to me and wishes me peace.

There's no greater thing that I desire right now than peace.

Yesterday at the AA meeting I couldn't pray the Lord's prayer for the tears and today I could hardly get through the Mass without sobbing. For the first time ever I left Mass before the closing song was finished because I knew I'd be a sobbing mess the first time someone asked me how I was. And because I didn't want to become a sobbing mess I bolted instead.

I didn't feel bad about not wanting to become a sobbing mess in front of other people.

One thing I learned this past winter that was of great help to me was this. Picture a bull's eye. There are those who are in our outermost circle and they are acquaintances, then there are those who are in the next circle closest to the middle and they are friends and in the innermost circle is where we are intimate - that place where we let others see who we are without our masks on.

We get to choose who we let in to each circle
and people have to earn the right to be there.

I was given the very good advice not to let someone into the innermost circle who will use what I tell them against me. And I learned that when a person is abused those different concentric circles of the bull's eye are violated and the perpetrator gains entry right past acquaintance and friend into the intimate circle momentarily, against your will, and afterwards it becomes difficult to have any boundaries at all.
It's as if the lines get all blurry.

When I learned all this I instantly stopped feeling guilty for not wanting to let those people in who wanted in just because they wanted in.
I'm not obligated to them. They have to earn the right to be there.

Most of the people at church are acquaintances. It's perfectly okay for me to tell them I am okay when I am not. I always felt guilty that I was lying if I didn't spill my guts to whoever asked me how I was. I don't anymore. That's growth.

I pray daily that I remain open to the God of my understanding and seek His presence in my innermost circle.

Peace be with you.

No Other Path

"....Here we learned that trouble was really a fact of life for everybody - a fact that had to be understood and dealt with. Surprisingly, we found that our troubles could, under God's grace, be converted into unimaginable blessings."

~ Page 110 As Bill Sees It

I belong to a pretty relaxed AA home group. What I mean by that is that every meeting we read a page from As Bill Sees It and we leave it up to the one doing the reading to pick a page, any page, to read from. It's kind of like Russian Roulette. Sure feels that way sometimes. The reading won't kill you but boy, it sometimes hits one right in the heart. Such was the case yesterday when the reading was the one above.

I was one weepy mess from beginning to end of the meeting. I thank God for a safe place to simply be and let the tears flow. It is a gift from God that I can look at what is going on in my life and see the good in it even though I feel like I'm at my limit of emotional pain. There was a time when I would have manipulated, connived and generally tried to get circumstances to go my way. Back then I believed that was the only path to serenity. Nope. It was the only path to insanity. I have never felt more powerless in my life than I have lately. That's not a bad thing. I am learning things left, right and center. The only way is through the pain, not around it. Not wait for things to go my way but accept things the way they are.

It's only in these kind of times in my life that I clearly see how much of the 12 steps have saturated my being and where I am still in need of surrender. Through tears and the grace of God, I am still surrendering. There is no other path to serenity.

Marking Time

The couch is a lousy place to sleep.

All week the Energizer Bunny and Yoga Pup
have been at my bedroom door way too early
in the morning wanting me to get up and play.
Their internal alarm clock is set between 4:30 and 6:00 AM.

I've been the only one home all week
and they keep tabs on people like an accountant
keeping track of every penny spent.
It's so obvious that I am neither of their masters
and by their behaviour they're letting me know
they miss dearest one and youngest son.

Normally they sleep in youngest son's room
but he's been out of town all week.
And if I put them in his room and close the door
they'd scratch the hell out of it and pee on all his things.

When I've been gone at work Yoga Pup has taken to marking
the furniture, the shoes, the container that holds his food and more.
There have been times this week
when the most endearing moniker
I can think of to call them
has been The Little Fuckers.

I went and bought pee pads
(did you know there was such a thing?)
for Yoga Pup and he thought they were a new toy.
He loves to chew plastic.

So last night I decided to sleep on the couch
in hopes that they'd let me sleep longer
and refrain from peeing on anything in the night.
Yoga Pup was beside himself with joy
when I returned to the couch every time I got up to
go to the bathroom in the night.
He would follow me down the hallway
and leap for joy (I kid you not)
when I was done and made a left turn to the livingroom
instead of an abrupt right turn to my bedroom.
You'd have thought he'd won the lottery.

I woke at 7 AM from a bad dream
and both dogs were still sleeping.
Energizer Bunny on the back of the couch
and Yoga Pup at my feet.
It's amazing what a little bit of extra sleep
can do for a person.

Grand Times Two

Have the kleenex ready when you watch this one.

Reality Check Out Lane

"Holy crap Hope! Give your head a shake."
That's what I thought
after I walked up to a check out counter this week
and read a sign that said,
"Another associate
will be happy to assist you."
only to think it said
"Another asshole will be happy to assist you."

Sometimes what we see
and what is reality
can be two totally different things, no?

Where Was I?

It has felt like a really long week.
I found myself driving home today
in that twilight zone space
of not being fully awake.
Scary stuff.
I have slept poorly every night and am on overload.
Sadness has been my constant companion,
like a dull toothache that won't go away.
Sadness is different than self pity.
I'm grateful I can tell the difference.

We moved our offices this week at work
and are still ironing out the bugs.
My head was full of trying to learn new equipment today
when the phone rang.
I raced to get it before it went to voice mail
only to answer it and totally blank out
as to who I was and where I was and
what the hell was that greeting
I was supposed to say again?
I sputtered and stammered
and finally just said a little sheepishly, "hi?"
The person on the other end burst into laughter and I did too.
A few hours later she phoned again
and I remembered the spiel this time.
She heard me out and then told me that was much better.
It felt good to laugh.
I haven't laughed enough lately.

Personally I have been through the wringer this week.
I keep reminding myself that
God gives grace for the situation not the imagination.
My imagination can and does run riot at times.

I have been a poster girl for self will run riot this week.
Not too proud of that.
At all.

I am grateful that through it all I had no desire to drink.
That's one victory anyway.
I feel like I've been clinging to hope
a little desperately of late.
Not normal for me.
I'm grateful for the ability
to be gut wrenchingly honest with my Higher Power.
Grateful for a sponsor who tells me what I need to hear
not what I want to hear
because she loves me whole heartedly.

I'm grateful for all your well wishes.
Sorry I'm being vague about details.
I just can't write it out here
without potentially hurting important people in my life.
There was a time when I wouldn't have given a shit
about whether I hurt anyone's feelings.
Today I do.
I'm grateful for that, too.

Catch Ya On The Flip Side

I'm taking an indefinite blogging break.
Too much going on that can't be written about here.
And it creates disconnect within me to write here about the mundane
and be struggling with deeper stuff offline.
I may be gone a day or a month.
God only knows.
Oh, that sounds so holy, doesn't it,
as if I consult God about blogging.
Which I don't.
Sometimes when I'm writing a blog post I do leave it sit a bit
because I sense there is more to write
and it hasn't come to the surface yet.
But I don't know if that has anymore to do with God or my ego.
See ya on the flip side.
Don't give up hope.

Sinking My Hands

This week I get to return to my home group meetings after a hit and miss attendance for the last 6 weeks due to other commitments. I am glad that life will settle back into a normal routine again. Funny how that is. There was a time when normal routine seemed dull and boring and now I welcome it.

Because of moving our office, next week I will also be able to return to the mid week lunch meeting that our group is responsible for. The shorter distance between my office and the meeting location will make it doable now. I am grateful for that.

There are just patches of snow left in the shadowy depths of the trees now. Suddenly finding that last patch of snow and sinking my hands into its icy coolness is appealing. I want to say both a farewell to the snow and mutter a thank God as I make one last snowball.

Daily Rituals

I'm grateful that the snow on the ground will be gone by the time I am done work today. It snowed all day yesterday. The forecast is for warm, sunny weather by this afternoon.

I'm grateful this is my last work day for the week. We're getting ready to move offices so today I will be packing up all my desk stuff and odds and ends. I'm not a fan of changes in my enviroment but it will be nice to have my very own office space in a brand new building. It also means dearest one and I will be commuting to the same place so that means 15 minutes less commuting time morning and night. I can live with that!

There's laundry and housework to do tomorrow which means I will feel like I accomplished something concrete by suppertime tomorrow night. I'm grateful that it doesn't take much to make me happy. The ordinary daily rituals of life bring me great pleasure. For that I am grateful.

Blowing Snowing Tuesday

"Winter driving conditions are in effect."

That's what I woke up to this morning. The radio announcer warning us to drive carefully on our snowy roads in May. Yep. We need the moisture. The snow won't last.
It does look pretty coming down. Not so sure how pretty it will be driving to work this morning. We're supposed to have 4 inches of snow by evening. Good thing I can choose my attitude.

I had a great weekend. Wonderful women, fellowship and fun. Not a lot of sleep. I am body weary this morning. I see an acupuncturist for the first time after work today. Whatever the weather there is life to be lived. Fully. I want to whine for another 10minutes about the snow but am going to zip my lip now. Have a great day.

CAN

One of my all time videos and songs.

Of Pockets and Dresses

There are two pugs curled up between my feet as I type. They try and see who can get closest to me - not unlike children who want to have the top spot. When my kids were little and it was story time, I would sit with my feet curled up under me at the end of the couch. They would call out who got to sit in my pocket; that space left between me and the arm of the couch. I read to my kids every night from the time my oldest was 10 months old until she was 16. It's one of the things I feel I got right as a mother. One of my best memories.

Yesterday I went to town and looked for a dress to wear when I give my talk at the retreat this weekend. I have two dresses in my closet. One is the what I wore for oldest son's wedding last year. Too fancy for a retreat and the other is a summer dress for summer days. With snow in the forecast yet again I somehow don't think it would work. Anyway, there were sales racks with just my size of dresses. I couldn't make up my mind so I bought two and two pairs of shoes. I have never bought two pairs of shoes at once before. Anyway I came home late and tried on the dresses for both dearest one and youngest son, thinking they'd help me decide. Ha. Youngest son got a very puzzled look on his face when I said I need help deciding. Then I said, "I need a woman." He nodded and said firmly, "Yes, you do." Only daughter where are you? She and I did try to find something for me to wear when I was with her last month but had no luck. Darn. I think I'm going to end up packing both dresses and asking for help at the retreat picking one. I feel blessed that my biggest problem today is trying to pick between two dresses. Such a life.

I'll be away until Monday night. Have a great weekend.

Out Of The Way

"Let us be present to the now.
It’s all we have and it’s where God will always speak to us.
The now holds everything, rejects nothing and,
therefore, can receive God, too.
Help us be present to the place we’re most afraid of,
because it always feels empty, it always feels boring,
it always feels like it’s not enough.
Help us find some space within that we don’t try to fill
with ideas or opinions.
Help us to create inner space,
because you always show yourself best where we are
hungry and empty.
Keep us out of the way,
so there is always room enough for you.

Amen.

From Hope Against Darkness, p. 122

When I read quotes like that one above I tend to think, "Oh God, help me create inner space now." Without all the awareness and surrender creating inner space demands. I want results now when inner space, being present, is a journey. There's that pull between recognizing the beauty of the above quote and sometimes wanting that kind of result more for my own ego gratification than for any glory God might get. Which, if it was an instant happening for wretched reasons, wouldn't be the real deal anyway. So there you go. I'm just talking outloud here. Letting you know what goes on inside my head at times.

I'm getting ready today for a women's retreat that starts tomorrow night and lasts throughout this long weekend. As one of a dozen or so speakers on the weekend I always wonder if speaking at these things is an ego grab for me. I enjoy public speaking. I enjoy sharing my story thus far. I don't like being seen as anything except an ordinary women walking the path. For the most part. These things can feed that place in me that likes applause and attention. So I pray a lot when I write the talk, I pray a lot before I give it, and I need to pray the most afterwards. When women come up and talk to me because of the difference between where I was and where I am now. There is always that tension between wanting to keep out of God's way and wanting the limelight. I wish it wasn't so. I pray that God gets the glory. I don't know how it works really. I just know that I'm not where I'm at in the journey - as if that is somewhere anyway - on my own steam. Where I got on my own steam is a whole other story. And I share that in the talk as well. Anyway if I come to mind this weekend, say a little prayer for me, that my ego will be kept in check and that I am given the grace to stay out of God's way.

Pissyness Indeed

"Having fun yet?"

I smiled at him and said that yes, I liked my job.
He stopped in his tracks, looked at me and said how rare that was these days.
I replied that I'd been on the job less than two months.
He commented with a bit of a question mark in his voice that I still enjoyed it,
and I said I loved it.

With that we parted ways, he to do his job, and me, mine.

That was a snippet of my day.
It was a day where parts of it
contained not one iota of common sense.

I work in a building that houses big shows.
We just rent office space in the building.
The big shows are the kind where 300 exhibitors turn up
and many more come to see what they have to offer.
I arrived at work this morning
only to have the security guard quoted above
tell me that I wasn't allowed into the building
until such and such a time. Sigh.
Did not matter that I worked there.
I asked him to radio someone to see if
they could make an exception when he commented
on how uncommon common sense was
and then radioed someone who okayed me to go in.

Later on a different security guard
refused to let me go down the hall
to use the bathroom because
I didn't have a visitor's pass hanging around my neck.
I am gullible.
I thought he was joking.
He wasn't.
I felt pissy for a moment.
Well, no I didn't piss my pants.
But I was tempted to go right on his shoe.
'Cept we women can't aim like that.
And that would have gotten me
barred from the building for sure.
Kidding.
No such thought entered my head.
That was pure story telling
coming from a tired me
who should probably be sleeping
instead of writing nonsense.

When he refused to let me go through the doorway to
the ladies room I turned around
and crossed the pavilion to use a
no visitors pass necessary bathroom,
where I got rid of my pissyness entirely.

Lickety Split

It's been a long day.
It did snow.
The snow didn't last.
We needed the moisture.
So it's all good.

The pugs and I had a long nap.
I'm feeling better than I did last night.
Not sick enough to be in bed.
Not well enough to be doing much.
That in between place.
Sickness limbo I think it's called.

Several times today I got all teary
out of gratitude because
of what a gift it is
to be sick temporarily instead
of permanently, you know?
I felt grateful for that.
And then I felt silly that
those thoughts made me teary.
I had my own little drama
right there in my living room.

Thankfully it was short lived.
I'm still grateful.
Just not teary.
Nor feeling silly for the tears.
I was missing people who have died.
Thinking about my friend Karen
who would give anything to be alive
on a cold snowy day in May.

I guess in perspective it's all better
than whining about feeling sick.
Not that I'm not capable of whining.
I can win me a whining prize lickety split.
Just ask dearest one.
He's heard me whine aplenty.
Doesn't mean I welcome the flu, either.
But it's only the flu.
Ya know?

Let It Snow

When you read this I'll be abed with the flu.
No early morning alarm for me.
No sirree.
Just a headache, fever and nausea.
What fun.

Reading that over makes me realize I typed it
as if the flu was something I was planning to have.
No, it has me.
It kept a low profile all day,
teasing and receding
only to hit full force after I got home.

I can't remember the last time I had the flu.
For that I am truly grateful.
Grateful that the flu is something
that comes along and then goes away.
Life continues.

PS Lest you think the title means I am delirious
I will be laying on the couch
watching the snow fall.
Yes, snow. In May.
That's what the weatherman is forecasting.
Let's hope he's wrong.
Although snow in May won't last long.

Monday, New Day

"What the heck is that noise?"

That was my first thought upon awakening.
My alarm is not pleasant to wake up to.
Which I guess is the whole point.
In about a ten second flash I went from that thought
to just about deciding to stay in bed. Next I thought about
this day being one full of opportunity,
"God help me" I whispered as I got out of bed.

And with that I got up and did yoga.
I want to say against my will.
But I did propel myself out of bed
and do it.

The birds were singing as I went to sleep last night
They were there again when I woke up.
They had a shorter night than I did then.

I thought about going for a walk instead of doing yoga
but the bears will be roaming already and I'd prefer
not to cross their early morning path.
Although that would wake me up in a hurry!

I'm grateful for a new day.
Mondays are like fresh, hung on the line bedding.
I get to make of it what I will.
I do love having choices today.

Dearest Dearest One

It's a wonder what 10 hours of sleep can do for a person.
I need between 9 and 10 every night
but unless I want to go to bed by 8 pm
it's not going to happen.
I was in bed by 8:30 one night this week.
My body demanded it.
Sleeping in is a treat.
It helps me feel more alive.
I wish my heart wasn't racing like crazy
every morning.
Dearest one teases me that it's because
when I come out to the kitchen
my heart speeds up when I see him standing there.
The man can make my heart do flip flops
tachycardia is another story.
I guess for today I can
leave my health in God's hands.
Sounds so simple, although my only sane option.

Today is dearest one's graduation.
These past two years he's been teaching students
and taking courses at the same time.
We're going to make a lot of noise
when he walks across the stage.
He doesn't know that yet.
But he will when the time comes.

This is a man who grew up in a culture where post secondary education
was frowned upon as worldly.
He left high school half way through grade 10
to look after the family farm
after his dad had serious surgery.
Despite being told as a boy that he was dumb,
despite growing up in an enviroment
where home work was seen as coming
afterfield work and chores, if at all,
eventually he returned to school
and graduated as a registered nurse.
Totally out of his cultural norms.
Today he'll receive his nursing degree.
In the fall he'll start on his Master's.
He works hard.
He loves learning.
He is right where he's supposed to be.
I'm proud of him.
Very proud of him.
He's my dearest one.

I Get To...

When I'm doing yoga the pugs think I'm a trampoline.
They take advantage of me lying in a pose and try to clean out my ears for me.
Then they decide my belly would make a great jumping on and off point.
They are persistent.
I decided this morning not to get cross with them,
I was at the tail end of the session anyway.
So I sat up and rough housed with them for a few moments
and then got up and made my breakfast.

I'm off to town today to buy groceries.
Buying groceries is a privilege.
Not too many years ago we were regulars at the food bank.
We went months without tasting a piece of fruit.
I missed it.
The summer we were once again bringing in an income
a fresh peach never tasted so good.

The last time I was in the grocery store
I didn't go very far when I realized
they had changed every single flipping aisle.
I went up and down the aisles grumbling out loud
about how stupid it was, among other things,
to put pickles across from potato chips.
And why would they have kleenex in one aisle
and paper towels and toilet paper in another?
Eventually my whining got old even to myself and I shut up.

I imagine today I will feel no less irritated
when I see in what ridiculous ways
the aisles have been rearranged.
The store proudly announces when you walk in
that it's now a more efficient shopping experience.
Not.

Because I get to choose my attitude
I'm going to keep front and center
that buying groceries is a privilege.
I get to buy groceries.
I get to do a whole lot in life.

Today is the fifth anniversary
of dearest one's brother's death.
Five years ago today it was snowing.
He laid on the ground all day covered with a white hospital blanket
until the police were done their investigation.
Dearest one and I and all his family walked past his body
on the way to the house where we gathered in disbelief.
It still seems surreal this many years later.
Not sure why the police lifted the yellow tape
and let us walk past his body.
It was his death and the life circumstances we were facing at the time
that cemented in me that God is with us in our pain.
Because of his death I know that whatever life throws my way
I am not left alone to deal with it.
I believe Jesus hunkers down beside me
and is with me in it,
weeping as I weep,
whether I can feel his presence or not.
If you could lift up dearest one and his family in prayer today
that would be greatly appreciated.
This day doesn't seem to get any less painful
no matter how much time has passed.
Thank you.

Waterworks

Two rambunctious little pugs woke me up this morning.
It's hard to stay grumpy when
they nearly wiggle themselves inside out
because I am home.
In a few hours I'm off on a road trip to see Fr. Charlie.
Who knows how I'll be when I get there
but right now I feel like I'm going to talk for 2 hours straight
without nary taking a breath.
Well, except that breathing is necessary.

Yesterday I sat in a waiting room
and listened to a young girl talk just like that.
Loudly.
I heard all about so and so and their boyfriend
and whether the baby is his or not.
Wow, she talked loud.
Like the young person beside her was deaf.
I watched her friend's body language
and it seemed to say please speak quieter.
I sat and judged the young girl for her verbal diarrhea
until I realized that most of us
probably have similar conversations going on all the time
except they happen in our head not in a public arena.
So there really is no difference between us.

I was sitting there waiting for a pelvic ultrasound.
One where the prep is having to drink a litre of water
and then hold your pee for an ungodly amount of time.
I went to the reception desk upon arrival
and told them this was cruel and unusual punishment.
They asked me to repeat myself.
I did.
In a whisper.

When I was called (they call first names only)
I walked very quickly to the room.
I got up on the table
(I know this is all too much information
but aren't you glad you aren't in a public waiting room
hearing me speak this rather loudly in your ear?
Wait. A blog is sorta like a public waiting room.)

Anyway I got up on the table
only to hear her say after a few seconds
that I needed to go and pee a little bit.
My bladder was too full.
I would've laughed except that would have caused me
to pee right there on her table.
I told her peeing a little bit wasn't going to happen.
Now, I envy all those folks who can stop peeing at will.
It isn't and never has been me.
She told me people did it all the time.
I told her not in my lifetime.
She sighed and did the ultrasound.
Then she let me go pee and did another kind of ultrasound.
Blessed relief.

When all was said and done I looked at the screen
before I left the room
(as if I can miraculously read an ultrasound picture, duh)
only to see that it wasn't even my name on the screen.
My first thought was that there was no way
I was going to repeat the torture.

So I went out and told her
that um, right first name, wrong everything else.
Her face registered an "oh shit" moment.
She assured me she could fix it but it would take a while.
Turns out there were two of us in the waiting room
with the same first name.
And when they'd called it
I saw this other person out of the corner of my eye
start to get up out of their chair
but I beat them to it.
I had to pee so bad I just wanted the test over with.
I never stopped to think it wasn't my turn.

And since I don't think there is any delicate way
to finish this rather indelicate post
I will just stop right here
and wish you a good day.

Seepage

You know blogging has seeped into your psyche when you are having a dream in which absolutely everything is going wrong in your day and in your dream,in the midst of the day falling apart, you think to yourself how you'll blog about the day from hell.

Blooming Locks Of Love

"What happened to your curls?"

That's what I asked my regular cashier this morning as I went through his checkout. He had a head of long greying ringlets that were beautiful. I'm guessing he is about 60 years old and his hair made him look kind of wild but I liked it. His closely shaven head was a bit of a shock so early in the day.

It's been my habit since starting work to stop at the grocery store every Monday and pick up some flowers for my desk. It's a wonder what a difference a $3 long stemmed rose can make in a person's day. This morning I bought two and wouldn't you know it, I wasn't careful when I was opening up the office and I promptly broke them both off about half an inch from the flower. So now I have a rose floating in my coffee mug and one in the top of the vase. C'est la vie.

Anyway, this cashier has had the kindest, cheery face for being at the tail end of his night shift when I see him on Monday mornings. He stands out for doing his job with class even though he's minutes from quitting time.

This morning he looked back at me and said, "I donated it for someone with cancer." I couldn't tell for a moment whether he was teasing me or serious. Then he added that a friend of his, her husband had cancer, and had had the exact same kind of hair as his. Now the man will have a wig while the cashier will grow back his locks. A win-win situation.

He always wraps my flowers with flair and hands them to me gently, wishing me the best of days. As he did so this morning he talked about how he tries to live life quietly and without fanfare and it puzzled him that so many people commented on his haircut.

He handed me my receipt and my flowers and we parted company.
My roses were blooming beautifully on my desk by afternoon.
I bet this cashier's heart will do so forever.

Enlightened Yoga

Increasingly during the next 6 weeks
it will seem like the sun hardly sets.
Which means it's no longer dark out when I get up.
Nor is it dark when I go to bed.
I try not to hang on,
like a spoiled child begging it's parent
to stay longer on a play date,
to this time of year.
It's awfully tempting though.

This week I've changed my morning routine.
Lovely cardiologist told me I must
find a way to exercise daily no matter what.
So I'm doing yoga at 5 am.
I'm determined to do this even though
I'd much rather be sleeping.
I'm not stubborn for nothing.

Exercise is one thing the doctor said
was my part in helping
the enlarged heart situation.
That, losing more weight,
and lowering my sodium intake.
Which is low already.
It's unbelievable how much salt is in everything.
Although I'll take a bland diet
if it means living longer.
Wouldn't you?

Tears Are A Form Of Prayer

I wanted to weep again and again at Mass today.
Unexpected tears feel like both a gift and an inconvenience.
So rarely do they appear when I am alone.
Today they would have morphed into a snotty nose
and gulping sobs kind of weeping
so I quelled them and settled for tears welling up.
I wonder how God sees it when I stifle the Spirit so.

I was almost the whole kit and kaboodle at church today.
Sacristan, lector, altar server, usher and gift bearer.
That's what happens when there are only a handful present
and only one other person is brave enough to get out of the pew!
I don't think it takes bravery
but to some it does.

I have had intense issues with our current priest.
He's driven me around the bend on more than one occasion.
Then came a Sunday, a few months ago,
when I was ranting
all by my lonesome,
on the way home from church.
Listing every single one of his faults out loud.
He'd pulled a doozy that day
and I felt like we were in a cat and mouse game.
And he was the *&$^%$@ victor.
He didn't know we were in a game.
But I tell you, I was convinced of it.

And as the words of contempt spewed out of my mouth
bouncing off the windows of my empty car,
I saw myself in every single one of his faults.

I haven't been the same since.

I could no longer look with
something akin to hatred at him.
Instead, there welled up compassion
and I cut him some slack for being human.
And well, once there is even a sliver of compassion
one can never go back to venom
without a tremendous amount of effort.

Venom is a waste of energy.

I can just see myself holding up my hand
and asking to be excused from life momentarily
because I've used up all my spoons
hating another human being.

I've never been an altar server before.
As I assisted the priest today
I felt the tears welling up for the umpteenth time.
I don't know if I'll ever like the man
But he's no longer my enemy.

Today was one of those days
when I was overwhelmed
by the mercy of God.
What else can one do then
but say thank you?

Distance

It's a beautiful sunshiny day.
Warm enough to feel like summer.
Makes the snow of last weekend a distant memory.
I spent the day between two meetings.
Life is full.

1001

My days are all mixed up.
Yesterday felt like Monday.
What a short week it's been then.

The pugs are better than an alarm clock.
They promptly show up at my door at 7:30 AM
to snort and try to see under my door.
Just picturing that makes me smile.
There's just no way their effort wouldn't end up
with them looking straight down at the floor instead.
So now I wonder if they do that on work days
when I leave the house before 7,
in hopes that there is still someone in the bedroom.
No wonder they often have dust bunnies on their big eyeballs.

I'm having a hard time living in this day only.
May is a full month.
I find myself thinking that
there won't be any let up until the month is over.
Then I yank myself back into today
by putting my feet flat on the floor
and taking a deep breath.

I did empty my suitcase and put it away yesterday.
That is history in the making.
Then I had a three hour nap.

Today is full of little tasks
and then an evening meeting
and an all day meeting tomorrow.
Then back to work on Monday.
And I could go on and on about what follows that
but instead I'm putting my feet on the floor,
taking a deep breath and doing the next right thing.
Lord have mercy.

I can't help but think this morning of this being my 1001st post.
How there is that book called 1001 Arabian Nights.
How she managed to keep telling the story for that long.
How it was still interesting right up to the end.
How her life depended on continuing to tell the story.
There's a message in there somewhere.