Self Proclamation

I saw a post on facebook just now that said something like "no one appreciates what i do until i don't do it".

My initital reaction was 'damn right , i bust my butt around this place doing all of this 'stuff' that's for other people...jobs that i don't really enjoy or want to do any more than they do ..and no one even gives a darn'

pretty harsh

and then i had to remind myself about the danger of expectation.

I still feel that one day my family will 'wake up ' and realize how much more wonderful our space is when everyone picks up after themselves, when everyone chips in and does their part..how much more leisure time we would have as a family if I weren't the only one doing the work which keeps me from getting to hang out and enjoy the company of my people more often..if i weren't spending so much time telling them all to do their chores..over and over and over again..

My expectation of this so called awakening is not realistic.

The reality is that these things are just not important to them as they are to me..while they do notice the difference between a clean house day and a disaster area day the disaster area days do not drag them down as they do me

So who am i really doing the jobs for ..

myself

When i expect others to appreciate my efforts  as much as i appreciate them I am just setting myself up for disappointment...and setting them up to be the recipients of my disappointment...and this is not fair to any of us.

When my space is clear it's easier for my head and heart to be clear...and this should be reward enough for my efforts.

I will continue to remind myself of the importance of this...of remembering that I value my own efforts and that there is a very important reason for my work...it is satisfying to me...no matter how mundane it may seem.


It is possible that one day my kids will arrive at a point where they also appreciate their own efforts just for themselves and not for me or anyone else..

blocked

well...day 21 of no smoking..the first 18 days also had no caffeine...yesterday and this morning i had one cup of coffee ..which i didn't finish and didn't even taste very nice..

my family has suffered a bit as i have attempted to move through this transition successfully and with as much grace as possible..

but the mornings have been far from grace filled...a general state of angst hits at some point..

i spend lots of time repeatedly reviewing in my mind..(and often a loud much to the dismay of those around me at the time )  the many reasons why quitting is a gift.

-I no longer have to apologize for smelling like an ash tray  as I am hugging my friends.
-My car doesn't reek of smoke any more
-I don't have to walk around with a collection of breath mints and essential oils to attempt to hide the stink
-i don't have to feel guilty about my kids knowing i am smoking
-i don't have to be embarrassed about disgusting ashtrays full of butts on the front porch
-i can take a deep breath....first week i could deeply inhale only to the count of 5..now, at the close of week 3 i can deep breathe to 8...minor?  maybe but it's a keen reminder that the changes in your body happen immediately
-my skin feels better..and i think looks better all ready...my color is better...the dry skin is lessening..
-i have so much more time ..all of those moments when i was stopping to smoke are now put to better use just getting things done..some of that is me distracting myself from thinking about smoking..shoot i even cleaned out the 'junk drawer' ..go figure..
-and last but surely not least..I am not spending $200 bucks a month on that crap..yes, a pack a day is where i was ..that's $7 bucks a day...@$50 bucks a week...

my creative juices don't seem to be flowing very well..have stopped several times over past weeks to try to put out some new poetry ..but it's not happening..

for now, i will gladly take this temporary 'block time' to focus on not being a smoker...
the creativity will return eventually!!

Value

V A L U E

such an enormous word....covering so much territory

a few weeks ago I entered into the 'value' lesson with my home school art students...it was a wonderful class...the concept of 'value in color' was introduced in the simplest of terms..increasing value by adding black and decreasing value by adding white..we did a really fun demo together up on the board...working with a primary to see how many shades we could create of higher value..and then moved towards lesser value..going as far down the scale as we could until the value was so very low that you could barely discern it from white...

Then they chose their own color to use and did the same project on their own...each with varying results of course but some of the value studies that came out of it were really beautiful..

I recently posted about this annual 'fall epiphany' that hits me ...the need for change ..for return to the path...a get back to 'walk your talk' .  I have been hard at it..bringing things back into my life over the past few weeks that i had let slip and giving the proverbial boot to some things that I had let gain footing...

During this process I have been plagued with a very serious ' holy shit what is my purpose in life'...or rather what are the many purposes of me?  Am I fulfilling them?  Do I have any choice in these?  Are there others that I need to add to the queue?

And so I return you to

VALUE

How is it that we gauge the value of self?

By occupation
By Proof of formal Education
By our failures
By the spectrum of our life experiences
By our physical appearance
By Income
By our successes
By the value of our partners (who are also gauging themselves)
By our position in the community
By peace of mind
By philanthropic gesture
By our friendships
By the nature of our children

or maybe

more simply

By what we feel like when we wake up each morning and as we fall asleep each night.

Like all of those beautiful and so varied colors created by the kids in their value studies our estimate of personal value  will change day by day, hour by hour and sometimes moment by moment. 

Fluctuations of our own colors as we move through our lives with gargantuan effort to do the right, walk the talk, leave our mark with clear conscious, full soul and hearts content

creeping in

Oh the bullshit of creeping self doubts.

One strong human trying to figure out why this comes. 

One of many I could suppose.

Choices made.

Battles chosen.

Stands taken.

Consequences weighed.

In the name of good.

Towards higher purpose than self.

Time moves on.

Strength waxes and wanes.

Battered by the elements of our humanity.

Self reflection.

The bullshit of self doubt.

little glossy gift bags

All of those beautiful people on the streets with their little glossy gift bags..streets filled with balloons and glittering lights...shop stoops spilling over with the luring temptations to be found inside ..patios and tables adorned  with festive umbrella's and dark windows decorated with the silhouettes of happy diners taking in each others company in a rich and luxurious fashion.


I wonder...

tomorrow will they have to choose between paying the electric bill or paying for the brake job on the car?

Sun, Moon, Season and getting a grip....

I'd like to think that I move through my life with a sense of connectedness to the greater world....our planet ...our place in the galaxy, the universe...both physically and spiritually...

So how is it that i can still be surprised by the wake up call that occurs with the change of each season?

I find this 'wake up call' to be at it's most insistent at the onset of Autumn each year.  It takes me a week or two to realize that my general state dissatisfaction, my antsy stirrings, that nutty feeling that I am missing something but am not sure what the hell it is, all stems from this shift.

Then ensues a mental scramble to make changes happen....to grab back up those things that I have let slide..those things that help me love myself, that move me, that put me in a place closer to wholeness.  Sadly, I am finding that the more years that i have under my belt the more difficult and overwhelming it seems to collect myself up and step back onto this path.


The truth is that I allow myself to get caught up in the things that are right in front of my face, on my calendar, in my check book...a sort of urgent short sightedness just to get through the days 'having done what was needed' for those people in my charge.  If i were to evaluate as the days and weeks fly by i would have to confess that there are many times when my entire focus was just about feeding and housing our tiny diverse tribe.  I feel myself moving at a speed that somehow does not allow for peace...am i moving any faster then everyone else?  Certainly not...and yet I see those around me skillfully arranging  time in their lives for self-fulfillment and self nourishment.  There is an art to this arranging that I have consistently been inconsistent with.

My logical brain tells me that the creation of this time is essential to my well being ..and that through this creation and the resulting increase in my well being I will have more to offer..more energy, more peace, more vibrancy, and most likely, more happiness

Sure, I have moments, I am overwhelmed by the sight of our Bald Eagles, I feel moved by our sunrises and sunsets, marvel at the incredible pallet that surrounds me, am invigorated by the power of our Bay and cherish my time out there....I've read some good books lately, done a bit of writing, thrown out a few paintings....but there is something missing...It just sort of seems that i am stealing these moments...that there is always something else hovering over my shoulder nagging at me that 'it' should be the focus of my energy instead...

I would like to see myself as the sort of person who commands a great deal of self determination....enough of that determination to add some fleshier ducks to my row....to have Autumn burgeon in years to come and to realize that I have already heeded the wake up call and have no need for the urgent scramble..

On our little planet spinning around at about 994mph.... flying around the sun at about 67,000 mph in a galaxy that wings through the universe at about 490,000 mph is it really any wonder that it seems like our moments move too quickly?

territorial human creatures

We are all, unavoidably, by nature,

While some may, over time, fine tune their skill at tempering this instinct it is always there lurking beneath.

It is the cause of all strife....our claims of ownership in religion, our higher power, our land, our relationships and yes, our grief.

Even in my use of the word 'our' this is identified.


In these past few days of recollection and acute memory I have found this realization at the surface of my thoughts.

My anger, at first seemingly unexplained, I now believe is rooted in this territorial ground.

I have found myself scrutinizing  the memories of others for accuracy, downplaying the role that they held in his life with an internal sneer and a sharp critical eye.

A visceral protection of my memories of Chris and my relationship with him.  A need to place my memory and loss 'above' that of everyone else....

Logic and compassion tell me that this is not a truth and yet there it is.

Some days my own humanity is startling to me.

Elsabeth Kubler-Ross...the stages of grief

  in 1969 she identified the 5 stages of Grief and loss in her book ."On Death and Dying"

It is said that these stages are not meant to occur in any order  but one would think that the 'final' stage would be the one titled 'acceptance'...a stage that 'they'  say many people will never reach.

For my part there are days when i could identify movement through every single stage in a single 24 hour period...

Today marks the anniversary of my brothers departure....2 years ago we removed life support. 

What stage is this?

My memories of the week leading up to that event and the moments throughout that evening are like jagged ,stabbing, horrible shards that have gouged out a bit of my heart.

But in that painful collection of wounds there is also an incredible store of warmth....a soft blanket of emotional bandage that was laid over me by the love of my friends.  A group of giving human beings who stood by us that week in any way that they were able.  Among that group were the few who chose to be with us at the moment that life support was removed, that the tumultuous decision making processes of that week were over and we had to face the reality of fact.

Chris was gone.  He would never show up in the morning to have coffee with me again.  I would never see his shit eating smart ass grin again.  I would never be able to give him grief, defend myself against his incessant teasing, There would be no more singing of  Rolling Stones songs with him in the kitchen  I would never have the honor of listening to him try to work through his life..share his fears and insecurities , My chance to feel hopeful for him was gone...I would never have the privilege of counseling him or get to laugh with him till I thought i would wet my pants....There would never be another full on sibling battle.

What stage is this?

On September 29th, 2009 my brother was struck by a tree limb while using the chain saw up on an extension ladder.  He had just phoned my mom to ask if his son Tanner could stay with her a bit longer...they had just one more branch to get down and then they would be done...she remembers telling him it was too late to keep working...that he should wait until tomorrow to finish..but he was stubborn...It was just after dusk...dark enough to need the headlights from the truck to see what they were doing.  .  One of his good friends and my ex husband were on the ground. He was too far up in the tree for them to see exactly what happened.   In an attempted reconstruction of the accident it was said that the branch sprung into him...the chain saw hit the ground , still running before he came down tangled in the ladder.  HIs leg was snapped in half and he was unconscious. He was flown to shock trauma in Baltimore.  I received a phone call late that night from my dad who was already in Baltimore..."it's very serious Kate".   It was determined by the neurosurgeon later that the damage was caused by the extreme velocity and whipping motion of his fall...not a strike to his skull as first thought.  My brothers head injury and the resulting damage to his brain was not repairable.  He would never regain consciousness.

While i feel a very strong urge to document the events of the six days that followed I find that i am not able to do so at this moment....

at some point i will come back here and work on that ...but for now i close with this..

How powerful this sense of loss.
How powerful the gifts of those who stood by us at his departure, who lifted my parents so they would not drown in their pain
How immense my gratitude for every moment that i was able to share in his life, for every memory that i desperately hold on to

How fragile we are when we stand alone
How amazing and precious the empathy created by our own pain and loss

What stage is this?

With unfathomable thanks to those who surrounded us and kept us through those days..and who still stand by us

Prone and Pressed ; a testament to my husband

Have I lain here just a moment or all of the moments since I came to be

And if I were to count them,  how many those moments?

Prone and pressed into the warmth of the earth beneath

My eyes wide open to the spangled light above

Our roots running, tangled , deep

The willing captured audience of these trees

I am Silent in knowing what they hold

I Listen;

Listen to rustled whispers of their truth

They speak

Of tumultuous storm, flood and fire and of death

They speak

Of the fierce struggle for each to stand tall and thrive

THEIR FEARS

They speak

Of life and growth, sun and seeds

Of the beautiful music of moving in unison on the breeze

Of the peace of standing side by side in the stillness

THEIR HOPES

They speak

I listen; Listen to rustled whispers of YOUR truth

Prone and pressed into the warmth of the earth beneath

My eyes wide open to the spangled light ahead

I  shed my hopeful tears to YOU

In gratitude for what I hear

They  Listen;

It is because they listen I am not afraid to speak

these soft whispers of MY own truth

I  speak

Of expectations and letting go

Of children’s struggles

Of self doubt, loneliness, disease

And death

MY FEARS

I speak

Of long futures, bright dreams and courage

Of the promise and pride in our partnership

Of children

Of Peace through love and learning

MY HOPES

I speak

You listen; to the not always soft whispers of My truth

Prone and pressed into the warmth of the earth beneath

We are these trees, you and I

Our roots running , tangled , deep

Held in the spangled light from above

Willing captives in this beautiful immense forest of life

We listen

And I am not afraid

The Soul Feeds another old bit reposted

THE SOUL FEEDS

I stand alone in my wisdom, resolute and sure

Have you ever been this empty

Beautiful and powerful beyond measure

There is nothing, can’t you see

Have you ever been this empty

My soul is missing…I am hollow

There is nothing, can’t you see

I hide it well, no one can know

My soul is missing…I am hollow

Those around me all in need

I hide it well, no one can know

They clamor about me just to feed

Those around me all in need

Aching heart knows not what for

They clamor about me just to feed

No rest will come ‘till it has more

Aching heart knows not what for

The never ending hunt and gather

No rest will come ‘till it has more

Feed my soul, is all the matter

The never ending hunt and gather

Somewhere, someone fill me please

Feed my soul, is all the matter

The ache to lessen by degree

Somewhere someone fill me please

Your soul, perhaps it overflows

The ache to lessen by degree

See, you’ve more, you’ll never know

Your soul, perhaps it overflows

I’ll lean on you and take it in

Abundant, yours, you’ll never know

And full of yours to live begin

I’ll lean on you and take it in

But something here…it is my own

And full of yours to live begin

With waiting, searching it has grown

But something here..it is my own
Beautiful and powerful beyond measure

With waiting, searching it has grown

I stand alone in my wisdom, resolute and sure

no peace

No peace

No peace

No peace

 These  angry voices take its place

 destroyers of solace

Creators of irritation

Tiny pin pricks of discontent

Suspect

That they may take up residence

Stirring rancor where there once was none

No peace

No peace

No peace

Darkest shadows rolling in

To suffocate what could have been

Sequestered screams that

Loom and threat

'Slipping By', lyrics with edits

Slipping by

Is it

That easy way it was with us

time we took to be

 our truth so  fearless

  (Appetites) without boundry

Slipping by

Is it

All of it that felt so certain

 finely dressed in honesty

Boundless times of perfect fusion

And mergers made so fairly

Slipping by

Is it

Words heard never spoken

Growing  doubts so artless(ly)

moments lost in speculation

no faith goes on this blindly

"Tailspins", lyrics /original rough draft w/ open lines

Tailspins of happenings
Here we go again
Long and hard and fast
Wicked storms we stand in
Coming from our past

Standin there in front of me
Your hands on my face
Desperate eyes of restitution
and cluttered energy
From your open mouth pour good intentions
Only words this meaningless are spoken for free
Floodin my ears with your lack of direction

Bouncin off the four walls of this crazy box we built
Mindless babble as your contribution
The geometry of us (unfinished line)
the unwilling witness to this (our) de-evolution
still baffled by your effortless oblivion (always blown away by your endless oblivion)
Knowin I don’t have a fix for your hurricane of guilt


Your Passin out your platitudes
With equal distribution
Wantin me to offer you some quotient of self worth
Sittin back just watchin you
your passionate precision
In Faces that you show to me
Your truths have been unearthed

Tailspins of happenings
Here we go again
Long and hard and fast
Wicked storms we stand in
Coming from our past

The gifts of Mary Oliver

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

WALKING ON WATER

Feel me soakin you up

Till you’re breathin underwater

Over there where you see yourself

walking on the water

you're like some Poseidon’s daughter

Would you baptize me in maidenly surf

Immerse me in charms of

The spectacular anointer

 Submerge me in delirious mirth

 Held in buoyant laughter

 You artful womanly crafter

Feel you soakin me down

Till I'm breathin underwater

An old bit being put out once more

Sadness from nowhere & somewhere & here

Feel the weight of it come to fruition

pressing in on me

Ghosts from before in the shape of fear

in whispers planning our condemnation,

are the thieves of sleep

Falling from self and at loss for purpose

Mistaking my love for imperfection

Startled by my need

Voices in my head that want to speak

to ask you for rescue and salvation

and some bit of peace

Immersed now I find myself under this

purity of truth that builds your devotion

and sets my hope free           

Bolstered by your vision of what I am

your eyes a mirror of my foundation

now through you I see

These ghosts from before I can shake them clear

Strengthened, I come free of their affliction

I give them release

An interesting sand unintentional blog schedule

Today i was reminded that i had this blog....yes, i had actually forgotten...and had to laugh when i logged back into to see that it had been almost exactly a year since i opened and published the first post....My 10 year old sits looking over my should saying "you blog mom?" ...how exactly to answer this honestly as i am at this moment creating a post but have not done so in a year...i think it really has to be a 'no' answer at this point...there hasn't been an overload of creative writing this year...a bit of poetry...and I am now head on into a short story for competition entry which is fun but is also making me not want to do ANYTHING  else but write...but i am really loving the brain spins of creativity where the parts of the story are being formulated in your brain while the rest of your body is busy with other things like dishes and dinner and homework and dog baths.....

So..thanks Liz for asking me if i still had this blog....i make no promise about using it ...but you just never know....