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.

Wretched Unpacker

There were two little pugs laying outside my bedroom door this morning, noses pressed to the space between door and floor waiting impatiently for me to get up. When I opened the door they ran up and down the hall like they were parading a victory flag before a crowd. They make me smile.

Dearest one and youngest son have gone off to work.
I'm alone for a chunk of time.
The longest in over a week.
I am grateful for the silence.

There are plenty of little tasks to get done today.
I am a wretched unpacker.
My suitcase could sit there for a month without me taking care of it.
I'd empty what I needed and leave the odds and ends to gather dust.
That's my pattern.
It's why I still can't find a pair of earrings I took on my trip east 6 months ago.
So today my goal is to empty the whole suitcase and put it away properly.
Life is made up of little accomplishments.
Having an empty suitcase one day post trip is more like a miracle for me.
It may very well be a first.
Change can happen at any stage in life.
Thank God.

I'm grateful for the little things today:

Wrapping my hands around a mug of tea.
Breathing in crisp spring air.
Two little pugs who dance with joy
when they see me.
I am grateful for much this morning.
Nothing huge and yet everything huge.
Life itself.

This post marks number 1000 in my little old bloglife.

Wholeheartedly

This morning I watched an elderly couple skate circles around each other at the ice rink in what used to be the world's largest mall. She, with gray hair and aging body, made the graceful spins and twirls seem effortless. Her actions had the ease of a teenager and I wondered if she felt like a young girl again.

He, well, what a sight. Dressed in blue jeans, a button up blue shirt and a ball cap, he made these little jumps and twirls, spreading his arms with such flair as he landed them, that I couldn't help but stand there and grin. He, too, had a big grin on his face as he skated.
He looked full of joy.
It did my heart good.

My heart.
It needed some good.
My appointment with the cardiologist didn't go as expected.
I was so sure she would lecture me about my weight (which she did), be happy about my cholesterol readings (which she didn't even address) and then send me on my way with a "see you in two years time" wave of the hand.

Nope.

She sat and told me that the upper chambers of my heart are enlarged. That she needs to run a battery of tests to see what is going on. Most likely it's a hole somewhere or the shunting that was deduced several years ago, but whose source was never found, that is wreaking havoc with my heart.

I sat there and just wanted to cry.
I regretted being alone,
in a city 8 hours from home,
as she told me that news.
I felt so vulnerable.

I thought about my increasing fatigue that I'd been blaming on my new job.
About the near daily bouts of my heartrate speeding up.
About how I almost never wake up feeling rested.
I thought to myself that I was glad she didn't tell me I have cancer.
Somehow I feel more in control less vulnerable with heart issues.

I know there are things I can do to help my heart.
She laid those out clearly.
And there are things that are completely out of my hands.

It was a three hour drive to get to where dearest one was at a conference.
The committe in my head had one hell of a party on the way there.
I had to distract them too many times to count.
They went full speed from one far reaching conclusion and back again.
Ridiculous, but very human thoughts.

I get to dearest one and he is in one foul mood.
He had a migraine so he left the conference mid morning,
took his migraine meds, and next thing he knows it's mid afternoon.
His eyes are still light sensitive and his head is tender.
I'd be grumpy, too, if I were him.
We wait at the elevator and I start to take his mood personally.
I think of the video I posted earlier in the month
and smile to myself.
Okay, dearest one is grumpy, I am feeling needy
and I get to choose my attitude.
Somewhere in my head I think, "Lovely, just lovely."
Then I pray and detach and manage not to get sucked into grumpyland.
We sit with our backs up against the headboard of the bed and talk.
Eventually dearest one asks me how my appointment went.
There is an "oh shit" look on his face when I tell him.
Sometimes being married to a nurse sucks.
They know how serious an enlarged heart can be.

Earlier in the day I tell God that I am not going back to a life where I have to count my spoons. Not if I can help it. Problem is I can only help so much, you know?

I haven't sat and fully hashed this out with God,
but I will.
After the house is quiet and people have gone to work
I will sit and tell God all about my fears.
I will have a good cry.
And I will surrender the whole situation and myself
to the One who loves me wholeheartedly.
I will pray the Lord's prayer.
Surrender is both sweet and painful.
It will,no doubt, do my heart good.

Sidetracked

I have a full week ahead of me.
Three days of work, then two afternoons of appointments.
One evening meeting lasting 4 hours long where I'll give a preview
of a talk I am giving at a women's retreat next month.
Then a road trip to see only daughter
and get some medical tests done and see
the cardiologist.
The cardiologist who will rag on me about my weight
as usual, for not being in that magical range
that I will never be in again.
I'm okay with that.
She won't be.

I wish she could see this journey of self acceptance
is so much more important than the number on the scale.
Celebrate the success of my not binge eating anymore.
Celebrate the weight loss I do have.
But no, it will be boiled down to a number on the scale.
I guess I better deal with that before I have me some
huge ass resentment.
(I can hear the cardiologist telling me
I already have the huge ass bit down pat.)

Sorry, got sidetracked by the committee in my head.

Anyway, all that to say I'm taking a blog posting break until after I get back home towards the end of the month. Talk to you then.

On The Cusp Of A Sorry State

Dearest one and I went for a drive last night.
to see the countryside that is on the cusp of spring.
We went in his pick up.
When we were newlweds everyone had a pickup.
It was a topic of conversation in his family
to see which couples in the community
sat close together in a pickup.
They'd say the honeymoon must be over
when they started sitting on their own side of the truck
instead of like two peas in a pod.
I thought about this as I got in the truck last night.
Every so often I still sit in the middle,
right next to dearest one
just to confuse people.
Actually, I'd sit there every time
but I have this fear of lap seat belts
and am convinced that if we're in an accident
I will surely be paralyzed for life.
So I choose safety over romance.
Which surely must mean I am no newlywed.
But I never tire of riding in a pickup with dearest one.
It always feels special.
Even when I sit way over on my side of the truck.
_______________________________________


The pugs were in fine shape this morning.
Raced outside to do their business.
Raced back in to sit in front of bedroom doors
in hopes that their masters would wake up.
I waited for them to race back up the hallway
and then proceeded to block it off
so dearest one and youngest son wouldn't
get woken up by pitiful whining
outside their doors.
The energizer bunny guessed what I was up to
while I was in the middle of blocking her path
and she tried every which way from Sunday
to get past me.
She didn't.
I thought to myself that it's a sorry state of affairs
to feel such triumph for outwitting a dog
who doesn't even reach halfway up to my knee.

Six Words, Six Words, Six Words

Weary body, tired mind, spoons needed.



~ Show My Face.

Purging The System

Dearest one and I met with a funeral home guy yesterday to make arrangements to start pre paying our funerals. Which sounds both morbid and responsible to me. Between that and getting our wills, personal directives and power of attorneys done a few months ago I feel like maybe we are growing up at last.

Remember how much I whine that I'm not a morning person and all that jazz? Well, I am now waking up on days off at ungodly hours and getting up. Dearest one is still sleeping. I guess the difference is that he will be cheerful when he wakes up and I will just be awake.

Communication is a funny thing sometimes. I have a talk to give to a group of women in a week's time. It's not written yet which is uncharacteristic for me. Every time I sit down to write it my mind goes on holiday. As we were going to sleep last night I mentioned this to dearest one. He was not sympathetic. When I pointed that out to him I realized I needed to rephrase what I was trying to tell him. After I did he said, "Oh, you're panicked about it. You said it so calmly the first time that I had no idea you were panicked." After which he informed me he was going to sleep now and we once again joked about sleep purgatory. Which is exactly what happened. I lay awake for another hour while he went right to sleep.

My mom is so funny some days. Yesterday we must have talked for over an hour. At one point I was telling her how much better I am breathing and how much clearer my sinuses are since I stopped eating wheat. How it used to be that I had to have a box of tissues close by when I ate because my nose became a faucet. She said, "My nose runs when I eat, Granny's nose ran when she ate. I thought it was something that happened when a person got old." No, mom, it happens when you have allergies. I left it at that because if it's not my mom's idea first it usually isn't a good idea in her eyes. "Gee, if it's not my mom's idea, it's not a good idea to her. If it's not my idea, it's not a good idea to me. It must be genetic." No, that's ego and pride I tell myself.

In just over a week I am going on a trip to see only daughter. Really, I have several appointments with health specialists but they happen to be in the same city as only daughter. I miss only daughter. It's been 8 months since we've seen each other. It's going to be fun to spend some time together.

I'm taking only daughter my good blue willow dishes. A friend gave them to me quite a few years ago. They are pretty to look at but eating off of blue plates has never appealed to me. They appeal to only daughter. Plus I only use the good dishes a few times a year and while I secretly have a pretty dish fetish, could buy lots of pretty dishes just because they are pretty to look at, it makes no sense to my rational mind to have more than one set of dishes.

Well now that I've got all this out of my head maybe I can write that talk. Dearest one is up and showered and should be sitting beside me as soon as his coffee is brewed. I don't drink coffee. Never have really. Which is a good thing because caffeine makes my heart go beserk and I really don't need another addiction. At AA I've learned to make the coffee but the first time I did, without any help, there was more than one person who asked, "who made this coffee?" It wasn't a compliment.

Misery Optional

ht to recovering wino

The Chorus In My Head

"They just told me I had table 40. I'm so sorry. I bet you know what you want to order after waiting an hour already."

I smile at my waitress and give her my order for supper.
If she only knew the dialogue that went through my head as I waited, at most, 10 minutes, for her to show up at my table.

It's payday. My first one in over 5 years. I have a board meeting in an hour and decided to treat myself to a nice restaurant supper beforehand. Usually it's Subway for this gal so it's really a treat.

When I first walked into the restaurant and the hostess found out I wanted a table for one she asked if I minded being seated in the lounge. Why, yes I did. Long day at work, surrounded by noise, I wanted a little distance between me and the half a dozen TV screens and the music blaring, so I declined and she brought me to a booth. My favourite booth, in fact, although she didn't know that. The restaurant is busy. From where I'm seated I watch a young family as they eat their supper. The little boy, no more than 3, picks up his hamburger and his face looks like he is ready to feast. The difference between his little mouth and the full size hamburger makes me smile. He eats with such enthusiasm. I watch as he and his sister trades sips of their drinks with each other.

Meanwhile there is a party going on in my head. Usually the service in this restaurant is really good. They take your beverage order within moments of sitting down. Tonight they are bustling about as if I'm invisible. Granted, my booth is at the end of two converging rows so I have no idea which server gets my table. I lean out once or twice to try and get someone's attention. Doesn't work. Then the chorus in my head tells me that really, they are punishing me for not taking that chair in the lounge, and the hostess has conveniently forgotten to tell my server that I'm here. That's the first thought that comes to mind. Immediately I challenge it. I look at how busy they are. I see how many trips the server makes to the family of four's table and think to myself that she very well may be panicking inside because they aren't her only table but they are needing a lot of service. I decide they are simply busy and will get to me when there's a momentary lull.

Which satisfies me for maybe a minute before the chorus in my head reminds me that I'm being punished for not taking the seat in the lounge and I deserve to be treated better than this. Again I challenge that thought. Around and around we go. It's a wonder I'm not too tired to eat by the time my server appears.

She is so apologetic.
She didn't know I was there.
I choose to believe it's a momentary lapse instead of a revenge induced forgetting on the part of the hostess.

Eventually my food arrives and I read the paper and eat my supper.
Perhaps tuckered out by the drama,
the chorus in my head settles down
and goes back to sleep.

Later, standing at the lounge counter paying for my meal,
the noise of the place swarming around me,
I realize the chorus in my head
gave the lounge noise a run for its money.

Sleepy Insight

I've been reading My Stroke Of Insight the past few days. It's one of those books one has a hard time putting down. I'm quite enjoying it.

Often I marvel at how my body works. As I've worked to have a better relationship with my body I've done things like talk to it. After a shower I often thank it from head to toe as I dry off. Everything from being grateful for my feet which have supported my body, my legs for taking me places and on it goes. I try to keep those thoughts in mind on a regular basis.

When I was at my sickest a few years ago, it was a real struggle to be grateful for my body. I felt like it was betraying me. I don't know how it all works, body and mind, but I do remember having a day when I simply told God that I wanted to live. A doctor, who in his wisdom (was absolutely wrong), said I had maybe 10 to 15 years at best, was my impetus to declare, basically, no fucking way. It was his misdiagnosis that prompted me to start looking for life. And I meant it in a way that goes beyond the physical body. It had to do with attitude and outlook on life more than anything. I had no idea what the future held, and never will, but I did know that I wanted to live, really live.

I have no control over whether I get to live a long life. But I do have control over my attitude for the time I do have. And it's always a choice. As life plays itself out I get to choose my attitude towards (especially) the circumstances that are beyond my control. It means being fully human, with all those emotions, and knowing that I'm not alone as I journey. Even when it feels like I've been deserted by God, he is hunkered down beside me, with me, in the circumstance. It means that for those events where it all seems hopeless, there is a God of my own understanding, who will hold out the beacon of hope when I can't grasp hope at all. Thankfully there hasn't been too many of those kind of events in my life. But as I age - and I see every passing year as a privilege - I'm sure there will be more and more of them. Lord have mercy.

Whew - I didn't know I could type anything more than
mindless twitterish drivel at this hour of the day.
Well, this could all be drivel too, seeing how I'm barely awake.
Have a great, hope filled day.

Waking Up Slowly

It looks like the Twilight Zone outside this morning.
The fog is almost making the moon disappear.
Energizer Bunny and Yoga Pup are racing up a storm
at this ungodly hour. They just crashed into their food dishes
and now they are walking around with subdued energy.
Many days they race up and down the hallway so fast that it's
dangerous to get in their way.
Every so often they race while trying to look over their shoulder
and we hear them smack into the wall with a thud.
On the weekend one of those thuds was one of them hitting my leg
while they were racing at full speed.
Isn't it illegal to have that much energy this early in the morning?
Now Yoga Pup is barking as if he's saying to the Energizer bunny,
"give me back my toy."
I do so hope I wake up soon.

Gob Smacked

This video wasn't available to embed here but please go watch this wonderful bit from Britain's Got Talent: Susan Boyle. It's always a bit of a treat to see Simon Cowell gob smacked.

ht to The Anchoress

Sleep Purgatory

"Don't talk to me, I'm almost in that place, in between waking and sleeping."

I say it rather snarkily.
If I go backwards towards being awake,
sleep might elude me for hours.
I panic at the thought.
Dearest one crawls into bed and I snuggle up
and kiss that spot in between his shoulder blades.
"Careful, you might lose your in between place."
I can tell he's grinning as he says it.
Then he informs me that he has no in between place,
he's either awake or sleeping.
"I don't have sleep purgatory like you do."
We both laugh.
When I think about how snarky I am about someone disturbing my purgatory I say, "Maybe I deserve sleep purgatory."
I don't remember if dearest one replied
because I promptly fell asleep.
Maybe someone was praying for me.

Sign Of Faith

"We are all a little bit angry with God because we never expected a tragedy this big," L'Aquila Archbishop Giuseppe Molinari told the faithful gathered in a tent. "But even anger toward God is a sign of faith."

~ Bishop from the Italian region hit by an earthquake earlier this week.

Six Words, Six Words, Six Words

Changing my mind, peace replaces stress.



~ Show My Face.

New Again

I know I've posted this one before but it is especially fitting today.

The High Road

"I like that poster."

He's pointing to a poster on my office wall that talks about how winners basically choose their attitude and instead of taking the easy road of whining and bitching, they choose the higher road. It's one of a handful of posters left on the walls by the woman who had this job before me.

I keep a straight face, but I want to let out a belly laugh so badly. He's just spent 5 minutes bitching to me about his boss and how he's going to quit his job. He stops long enough to tell me he likes the poster and then resumes his complaints.

I can't laugh too loudly, though.
I wonder how often I do the exact same thing
and remain unaware of it.
There's the ideal and then there's reality.
And while it's true that I often, by the grace of God, choose the higher road there are those moments when I think, yes, I'd like to be like that, while sinking comfortably back into the mire.

Of Rainbows and Furrowed Roads

"I'm not used to you being impatient."

We're sitting in a portrait studio, waiting to choose pictures of dearest one in his graduation garb. There are 5 big photos of him in front of me. He is smiling with those rainbow arched wrinkles above his eyes. It's easy to pick my favourites.

If they took my picture right then there'd be a scowl and no doubt furrowed brows. No rainbow arches for me. More like a rut in the road wrinkle between my eyebrows.
I'm tired. I just want to go home. I'm feeling inflexible about taking a detour to pick the photos and the saleslady is taking forever to come help us. I'm not used to me having no patience either. And I'm too tired to care.

Just as I'm ready to walk out of the store she comes over and tries to sell us nearly 250 dollars worth of photos. Yeesh. I love this man. I love looking at these photos of him. But I seriously don't need a mirror like experience of looking at a photo everywhere I turn. We pick our photo package and I leave while dearest one pays the bill.

I have one stop to make. Well, I had three but I decided to cut two of them because I am feeling impatient as hell and I just want to go home. Dearest one has a stop as well. We're in separate vehicles and I fully expect him to be home before me.

It's a long drive home. About half way there dearest one passes me in his pick up. I reach for my cell phone and call him. I can see him ahead of me holding his cell phone to his ear. I make amends right then about being so impatient over an important decision to him. He's worked hard these past two years to work full time and get his degree. He'll have a few months off before he starts on the next level of education. It means job security for him to do this and I kind of like having a roof over my head. We chat and I say sorry and he tells me how he felt about my impatience. It's all good as we hang up our respective phones.

I think about step 10 as I drive home.
Soon dearest one is beyond my sight.
Tonight he'll be my rainbow
at the end of my furrowed road home.

Teasing Smiles

I am so not a morning person.
Why would one choose to be up
when the sun is still visiting distant relatives?
Right. To get a paycheck.
Silly me.

Dearest one couldn't resist teasing me
as he went out the door
shortly after 5:30 AM.
Teasing me that I'm up so early
when I don't have to be at work
until an hour and half later than he does.
Then he remembered that if he got up earlier
maybe he'd be able to eat breakfast.
And that he has much less hair to fix than me
and hasn't taken to wearing makeup,
so that helps his morning schedule.

Dearest one does have the most beautiful smile.
It lights up his face.
I will carry his parting teasing smile
with me through the day today.
For even though it's still dark outside
and I'll never be a morning person,
his smile continues to light up my heart.

Ding, Ding, Ding

It's been a great day.
I know everyone has their idea of fun.
When it comes to work, mine is methodical tasks.
So I like it when there's a pile of filing to do,
when there are appointments to be made and phones to answer.
Isn't it a good thing that's what my job is partly made up of?

I am so glad I can see some humour in the learning process.
I dutifully scanned the packing slip, emailed it away and was quite pleased with myself. About a half an hour later I went to file the photocopy. I looked at the name on it and thought, "Hmmm. I don't think that's the person I emailed it to. I don't quite remember. If I email her and say, "hey, did you get a copy of this receipt by mistake she'll think I'm a few bricks short a load if I didn't send it to her. Hmmm."

And I left it at that, knowing who the right person was the next time I had to do that task, wondering still if I messed it up or not.
People are not only welcoming me in this new job, they cut me slack. Ding, ding, ding my inbox rang and there was an email that said, "I don't think you meant to send me this." She signed it with a happy face. And I could write back, "You're so right! I didn't."

There was a time when perfectionism hounded me so relentlessly that I'd have experienced a nose dive in self esteem as soon as the mistake had been revealed. I am so thankful I can grin and learn from it and carry on to other things.

Tomorrow is full of interesting new people to meet and tasks to do.
But this is today. And it's been full and satisfying.

Friendly Music

For some reason this had me in tears as I watched. I love the Sound of Music. I used to play that record when I was in college. One morning, in a fit of spite towards our downstairs neighbours, who we'd reported for a noise violation the previous night, I played the Sound of Music loud, very loud, at 7 AM. Needless to say we were not on good terms. I did try to befried them one afternoon when I was drunk. They had company, one of their mothers, over for a barbecue. I was uber friendly after being at a work related function where there were waiters walking around with wine on trays. I walked across their lawn greeting them like long lost friends. All I remember about that attempt at friendship was how they looked at me,their eyes saying, "WTF are you doing?" And because it's all about me, I wonder if they think of me when they hear this music? :)

Enough

I'm home in between two trips to town today.
I know that's crazy but it's what works
for the best for everyone involved.
In two hours I'll turn around and head back.
I'll have supper with a group of people largely unknown to me.
Not too long ago I would have copped an excuse to not show up.
It's out of my comfort zone for sure.
For whatever reason today that's okay.
I will pray that I will bring something to the situation
instead of seeing what I can get out of it.
I have no wish to be either invisible or the center of attention.
Just being me is enough.

I saw deer on the hillside as I drove to town this morning.
Too late in the morning to see the herds of elk
that have been grazing in predawn light.
Snow sculptures of every kind littered the ditches.
The sun is slowly melting piles of snow and revealing
jagged edges of snow drifts.
The sight makes me smile for some reason,
in a "die, you sucker" kind of way.

I was moseying down the card aisle at the drug store
and saw a display of Easter cards.
Now isn't it a bit redundant to have Easter cards
specifically labelled as religious?
I took a closer look and saw a multitude of ones
that weren't.
I laughed outloud at the sight.
Right.
Can't have Easter mean something
that might offend the masses.
Lord have mercy.

I chaired my home group AA meeting.
There were a fair number of people there
who I'd never seen before.
We've gone from a group that struggled to have 5 people present
to one that has almost outgrown its meeting room.
How cool is that?
I saw on one of the roundup notices that someone from
Steve-o's neck of the woods is speaking
at a round up one province over.
Instantly I thought about my secret wish to have
Pam or Mary Christine come speak at our local round up one day.
One never knows.
Wishes do come true.

My sponsor gave me a lovely little gift book today
that says on the front "The Spirit of Hope".
I love when people get who I am.

Six Words, Six Words, Six Words

Full day with friends, strangers, family.



~ Show My Face.

Regular Stuff

I have a long list of things to get done today.
Doesn't that make me feel oh, so important.
Ha. Dishes, laundry, exercise, phone for appts.
Regular stuff. Regular stuff is good.
Much better than the drama I could dream up if I wanted to.
So glad I don't want to.

However, I was just thinking of
revamping the template on my blog;
which would be fun and distract me
from doing the next right thing.

The next right thing is washing dishes.
Dirty dishes means I had the privilege of eating.
The Pug Posse is happy I'm home today.
They are vying for space at my feet.
As if the one who gets closest is more important.

If you are the praying kind
could you lift up dearest one today?
He is still suffering from the whiplash.
The doc has ordered x-rays
to rule out a compression fracture in his back.
He's in lines-etched-in-his-forehead kind of pain.
Very glad it's the end of the work week for him.

Halfway There

"I can't remember the word."

I'm sitting in my therapist's office yesterday feeling brain dead. I sit there with my head in my heads trying to think of the word I want. Eventually it comes to me although my train of thought has lost its momentum.

I now know not to book a therapy appointment at the end of my three day stint of work. I am too tired to think straight. I just want to go home and put on my pjs and watch mindless TV. We agree to cut my session short. I rebook for a later on in the month, on a day when I don't work. I'll hopefully have more brain cells by then.

I leave her office and get in my car. It's in a scary part of town. I could walk out of my therapist's office and buy drugs, booze or sex. There are always people on the sidewalk across the street from my car watching. Some days that makes me feel scared. I park as close to her office door as possible. I always want to get in my car and lock the doors. I often feel bad that I want to do that in that part of town.

I don't know why I'm writing this other than to get it out of my head. Random thoughts on a morning when I can stay in my pjs as long as I want.

Anyway, I make a u turn right on the street and head off to buy groceries. My body hurts. Yog pup has a penchant for slippers. I can't remember where I put mine, most likely somewhere out of his reach. My slippers have my insoles in them that make my feet hurt less. I love how I feel in high heels at the start of the day. By the end of the day I think they are instruments of torture. I feel every step as I push the cart into the store. Halfway there I remember that perspective is everything. One thing I've been learning the past few years is that I can turn any statement of "I have to" into "I get to". I remember that not too many years ago we had no money to buy groceries. We were regular food bank users. In my neck of the woods that was 5 bags of groceries once a month. We had three teenagers to feed. I'm thinking all this as I head into the store and rephrase my "having to buy groceries" to "I get to buy groceries". It doesn't make my feet hurt any less but my attitude improves greatly.

Gullibe Schmullible

I am so glad that no one at work knows
how gullible I can be, it being April Fool's and all.
I can laugh at myself when caught in that gullibility
and I still blush like crazy.
But I prefer not to get punked.

Today is my Friday.
Hard not to be grateful on a Friday now, isn't it?
I was laying in bed in the middle of the night,
my head swirling with things I need to do today,
and I was thinking how grateful I am that AA has taught me
to cultivate an attitude of gratitude.
When I first came back to AA I thought that a person
could only be grateful if the stars were all lined up in my favour.
I was a dead ringer for believing I was the conductor of everyone's life
and if only people would cooperate I would be happy, dammit.

I had a bit of a cynical heart.
My home group is called Gratitude 24/7.
By listening to others and then practicing a lot,
I learned how to be genuinely grateful.
It doesn't mean I pretend
I don't feel or think a certain way.
If I'm thinking "eff you" it's written all over my face.
It does mean that despite the circumstances I find myself in
I can find lots of things to be grateful about.