Category Archives: Transformation

The grief bone is connected to the…

25 Thursday May 2017

Posted by in Dreaming, Grief, Traditions, Transformation

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The more I process my grief, the more I realize that peeling back these layers reveals the usual suspect feelings but also opens the way for other unanticipated issues to come up that can be (have to be?) dealt with. What I have discovered so far about grief is that it has little enough to do with Kevin, except for the obvious loss of his physical presence, and everything to do with who I am and who I choose to be now.

I have recently started back on the path of how I got the way I am, trying to understand myself differently so I can refine or change some things I don’t like about myself. My post from back in January 2016 (Remembering Dad) is one I go back to time after time, thinking about how my parents’ grief over the death of my baby brother affected me then and continuing while I was growing up, and how that is a prime ingredient in the make-up of who I am so far.  And how all that might have influenced how I parented my children, who are now parenting their own children.  This is how cycles get rolling.

So why now? Well, here I am trying to figure out my future, make sense of the options I have. I am conflicted about calling myself an entrepreneur, since I don’t really have a business with products to sell. I am a trainer (underemployed at that) with services to offer.  I haven’t marketed myself much, though, so I feel sort of like a starving artist, living on principle and principal. Even though it’s been a year and a half since I left my last job, I’m still unsettled about what’s next.  And I still cry, but I am making new friends and developing a strong support network. Now I just need to find more meaning and make some money.

An alternative that could solve my financial insecurities showed up in my Inbox recently. I applied for a job back in Minnesota, one I hadn’t made up my mind I really wanted but was interested in enough to apply.  I got a first interview, and I started making up reasons why this was a good idea.  The prime factor was the salary and the stability of a regular paycheck with fringe benefits like health insurance.  A strong but secondary factor was that I would be geographically close to three of my siblings and two of my very best friends.  But my heart just couldn’t get excited about Minnesota winters, nor especially the structure of a Monday-Friday, 8-5, 50 weeks a year job, carrying out someone else’s priorities and directives.  I kept hearing in my head that saying, “If money weren’t the issue, what would you do?”  No clear answers yet, in case you’re wondering.

While I was waiting to hear about a second interview, I decided it was time to put my house in order, so to speak. Not just physically clean and well-maintained, which I would have to do if I were potentially going to list it for sale; more importantly, I wanted to mentally prepare myself for giving up the freedoms I have now. I rationalized like a champ all the positives of a move, and discounted the hassles of moving and starting over again. Suffice it to say that I want my roots to go deeper instead of broader now.  And I wanted peace of mind, whichever way the cookie crumbled.

My friend Rosanne once asked me while I was packing for a move what it was I was running from, and I told her I wasn’t running from but toward, except I didn’t know what toward either.  I still don’t know.  Or rather, I don’t know yet but I’m getting closer. Note to self: what I have been doing all along is making money, not making a life. That’s going to change.

Yeah, so that cookie crumbled, and I didn’t get the job. I didn’t even get the second interview. And I still don’t have peace of mind (although the anxiety of moving has subsided, which must be a good sign).  I’m very okay with this, because I didn’t really want to go (and my Spirit Self didn’t want to go either, I’m sure of it).  But if not this, then what??? This is my time, right? Finally? No kids to worry about, no husband to convince, not even any bills except the mortgage and monthly utilities and other living expenses.  Not the next thing, but the last thing, a legacy act.

I have often said to myself, I wonder what I’d be capable of if I just applied myself?  I have had significant achievements in my life, which I am proud of, but if I really tried, imagine that!  So I hired a coach/business start-up strategist to help me.  The first thing she had me do was fill out a questionnaire about my job history.  Which got me to thinking about how many times I have moved, how many jobs I have held, how many times I had that fresh start. Those Millenial kids have got nothing on me! I have held 12 positions in the past 40 years, always chasing more money, but eventually climbing a career ladder.  I have had 13 addresses in six cities in four states (not counting the Army).  Looking at that list laid out in black and white was an eye-opener. Having to articulate what my ideal day would look like, and define what success looked like so I’d recognize it when I hit that mark…those were tougher tasks. Trying to align all these bits and pieces into a vision and voice is going to be some work.

I know I would get along okay if I didn’t do all this thinking and analyzing and conjuring and … whatever else I am doing.  I know I would be just fine if I put away the questions and reverted to “normal,” albeit a new normal, and society would readily accept that without question. People I know would probably be relieved I have finally settled down.   I think I have done a swell job with processing the early stages of grief – the loss and doubt, the discomfort and discovery, even the understanding. But there’s more for me.  I’m seeking full integration in this new life, fuller satisfaction, and confidence in the new me.

I have started something that won’t let go of me now. In this past month’s time, I’ve turned inside out. Move over, Alice, I have to go down this rabbit hole and see what there is to see. I just know that the door marked Grief is not the only one that has opened. I’m curious about what labyrinth I will find myself walking on this journey.

 

 

All because of a gun cabinet

13 Thursday Apr 2017

Posted by in Dreaming, Gratitude, Grief, Traditions, Transformation

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Recently my friend Rosanne asked me if I had done anything with the gun cabinet I inherited when Kevin died. I had once said I was going to paint it and repurpose it.  The bottom door grabs are deer heads and it also has shotgun shell decorative touches; plenty of Kevin memories will stay attached to this piece. gun cabinetI thought I might be able to add some glass shelves and use it for books or cds or dvds … or something, maybe just use it as a curio cabinet. I might even be able to put a mirror backing.  Paint it up shabby-chic like and I would have an unusual piece that might become the envy of my friends.  Anyway, the answer is no, not yet. It’s just sitting in my hallway. At least I have moved it out of the closet where it has been hiding from chalk paint and all its glory for the past two years.

That conversation reminded me of one we had had several years ago. Rosanne and I were shopping in a consignment store (Phyllis might have been there, too, that day in Alex, remember?), and I found something I liked. She asked why I didn’t buy it, and I remember telling her that it just wouldn’t go in our house. I also said that if I lived by myself, I would have a totally different style, more eclectic, less matchy-watchy, with all kinds of comfy shabby-chic things; one-of-a-kind pieces that would have my personal touches all over them. I remember that conversation so clearly!

It’s been almost 2-1/2 years now that I’ve been living by myself, and I haven’t done much about that hidden desire except to paint walls and rearrange my living room furniture.  I did paint this “classic” style Hall tablehall table I’ve had for about 20 years and that used to be dark cherry colored. Phyllis also helped me paint a window my sister gave me, so I must have a little flair hiding in me somewhere, right?

Now, I have decided, is the time.  I’m ready.  And Fortune is smiling upon me.  Another friend, Betty, made a bit of an offhand comment one night at Bunco at my house about my kitchen table, saying if I ever wanted tableto sell it, to let her know.  I had wanted a bistro-style tall table and counter stools in my kitchen when we moved in, but Kevin wasn’t a fan, so this was our compromise. It’s a lovely look, sturdy for him, with enough feminine curves to please my eye. So I called Betty last week and said I did want to sell it. Pictures and measurements were sent, but, she told me, she wanted it for her daughter and it was too large for the small alcove she has. Another friend, Armen, overheard our conversation and immediately said, “I’ll take it. I’ll bring you a check tomorrow.” She said she had wanted to say something the night Betty expressed interest but was too late.  So it looks like I can start shopping!

Truth be told, I already found some stools. It was when I saw them that the wheels started turning and I made up my mind. counter stoolOur neighborhood ladies were having lunch together last week near a consignment shop. I got there early so I could have a peek – this was before I even called Betty.   They aren’t exactly what I thought I would want, but with a little paint, they could be fun. And the price is right.  I wonder if a cross-style of Mary Engelbreit and Kelly Rae Roberts would work? Definitely some kind of splash needed. Would depend on the table style I find, and if these stools are still available.

Then I had another idea. What if I only got the stools, waited on the table (I have a dining room with a table already), and either moved the hall table here nookand made a baby solarium or put one of my rocking chairs here and made a peaceful place to sit and meditate or read? I have a great outdoor bench that could work here, bench.jpgtoo, if I put a little elbow grease into sanding the rough and rusted edges.  And then I could just put an outdoor table on the deck – which I don’t have right now. Still get to shop!! Oh, the options! :o)

I really can do anything I want now. It’s totally up to me. The fact that that makes me happy instead of sad is a sign of my progress in healing from the grief.

I don’t know how you’d define my style exactly. I just know that when I see something I like, I know it.  I’m going to find out what else I like!

Oh, and about that light fixture hanging over the table. I think a chandelier might be better…and wouldn’t a chandelier over the Jacuzzi tub in the master bath be fun, too? Does anyone know a good local electrician?

 

 

 

Living with Questions

09 Thursday Mar 2017

Posted by in Gratitude, Traditions, Transformation

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There is something about someone dying that makes you question death, and now I know there is something about living that makes you question life, too.  Lately, I’ve been in the mode of exploring both, through questions, more questions, better questions, trying to not have to force answers. It’s a challenge sometimes for me to be patient, but today was one of those days it was easy.

I’ve accepted the New Age philosophy that if something keeps showing up in your life, you should pay attention. Over the past 40 years in total, but really over the past 20 years or so, and specifically over the past couple of years, I’ve been introduced to people, books, ideas, and beliefs that I’ve now accepted are meant to be for me. And that has to do with my worldview or belief system about what works and what doesn’t work for me, what is effective or ineffective.  When some words, ideas, people just won’t go away, it’s time to engage instead of ignore. Let it not be said I couldn’t learn a new trick, even if it took me a while.

So I’m working hard, consciously, deliberately, to move away from a mental model that uses judgment, conclusion, right and wrong, and good and bad, as the way to view what goes on around and within me. When what used to work doesn’t work any longer, I am pretty quick to make a change. When something comes along that is just different, outside the scope of my experience, interesting, and even exotic in some ways, where I used to hesitate I’m happy to report that I have opened up to further exploration. That’s a hard row to hoe sometimes. I’ve got a lifetime of conditioning to overcome.

But today I hosted a group of women friends to discuss and explore energetic wellness and an active consciousness of possibility for improved  health and energy.  I wish I had pictures to prove it, because in this day and age, it seems that those are requirements, but trust me – it DID happen!  I coordinated having two new friends come to demonstrate some complements of energy healing I’ve barely been acquainted with. I really liked how Mary, one of the women, gently explained that she wasn’t here to heal any of us; that we are our own healers, and she was here to help us figure out better ways to do that. I want more of that! Whether it is through releasing blocked energy, or clearing emotional trauma through the use of oils and crystals infused with frequencies, or anything else, one of the messages for me today was that times have indeed changed, and so have I, or at least I’m ready for change.

Equal to that, finding a supportive environment in which to do that is a blessing I am well aware of. I remember when my uncle George used to go to a local chiropractor, way back in the day, and there were whispers that he was going to a “quack.” But it worked for him and he kept going, and they found it hard to diss the results. There are still miles of imagination between other forms of alternative healing and the traditional Western forms of medicine, at least in my family history, but that, too, is changing. So for me to find a group of women I respect that were open to this gathering was way cool for me. Now when I have questions, or thoughts and ideas, I don’t have to go it alone, feeling strange about it, hiding it.  I have peeps!

Kevin was a traditionalist and conservative about quite a few things, and health was one of those matter-of-fact issues for him.  Take 2 aspirin and call me in the morning! But one of the ways he showed his love for me was to listen to me when I had “far out” ideas, or read a book I thought he should read so we could talk about it, or go see a movie that pushed the edges of the envelope. The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran is my all-time favorite book, and I remember when he tried to read it.   He didn’t “get it,” but still he honored me and wanted to learn what was so special about it for me. When we visited Washington DC a few years later, although he never did read the entire book, he discovered there was a Kahlil Gibran meditation garden not far from our hotel, and he encouraged me to go visit it (no, he didn’t go with me). That’s the kind of guy he was, letting me be me and do my thing.  We were pretty good at agreeing to disagree, but always with high regard and care. (You should have seen his face when I put Vic’s Vapor Rub on his toenails to help with the fungus, or when I got him to drink Throat Coat tea one time (and one time only) !!!)

I miss being able to talk to him about this new energy wellness thing I’m into. I’m learning, though, that I can still share it if I’m willing to accept that I can’t see him; that’s not my go-to way, though. The new way, the question is: What if he is here, and I just don’t see him? Am I willing to accept that I’m not alone, that he’s near still? I do have to be very conscious about this right now; can’t wait until it’s second nature.  Anyway, he would have been skeptical, I’m sure, but he would have listened and informed himself at least enough to have a reasonable conversation with me about it.  The poetic justice in this is that it was his dying that was the catalyst to a different way of thinking for me.  Being here on this earth without him physically has given me the time and the space and the urge to do this kind of exploring. Luckily, thankfully, I have found support with new friends. I don’t miss him less, but I understand better this circle of life somehow because of this twisted (in a good way) connectedness. It feels right, and I know he would totally accept that.

So tonight I’m wearing a new frequency-infused pendant, and I even got one for Buddy because of his ailments and other aging issues. Three of my friends got their “bars” run and two were enthusiastic about it; the third one is still deciding.  I’m excited about thinking in terms of questions instead of conclusions.  I’m thrilled to feel accepted by my friends who are exploring this with me. And the next time I talk to Kevin, I’m going to tell him so, although I’m pretty sure he already knows how I feel. He probably just loves that he is the one with the answers now. And I’m okay with that. He earned that. I’m just glad he’s on my side still.

Being a Possibilitarian

22 Wednesday Feb 2017

Posted by in Traditions, Transformation

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Lately I’ve been working on a new philosophical mindset, or maybe it’s more accurate to say exploring an old interest in a philosophy of being a possibilitarian. Think of it as the next step up from being a positive thinker.   I went to see a woman in Richmond a few weeks ago, and I had “my bars run” which is a form of energy alignment by releasing negativity and other obstacles in our way, and opening ourselves up to more possibilities in our lives. Last Sunday I invested 8 hours and a few dollars and was even certified to be a practitioner in this. It’s called Access Consciousness. Here are a few shots from class.

One of the lessons I’ve learning is to reframe my daily affirmations to be more “possibility oriented.”  One of my questions to myself is: How does it get any better than this?  As in, what else is possible? The theory is that the Universe will show you how it gets better when I don’t try to restrict the outcome to what I think it should be. It has been a long and winding road since my days 20 years ago of reading The Celestine Prophecy, Something More Simple Abundance, Conversations with God, I’m Spiritual Dammit, and Outrageous Openness.  Now I have a deliberate way to explore this even more.

While I have thought of myself as a teacher for a long time, I have never identified myself a healer (except in a Mom-first-aid-and-related-parenting mode), or more particularly, a healer in Energy Work. I have benefited greatly from having Reiki, Healing Hands, deep tissue massage, salt spa, and other modality treatments, so I’m clearly on the side of believing in its power. I have also quietly kept pursing my own form of “law of attraction” and “new thought” and similar positive-oriented philosophies. It happens that they align quite nicely with the work I have done more formally in leadership development.

So last Thursday night,, I was working on a presentation I was booked to deliver last Saturday. It was okay but it isn’t exactly as good as I wanted it to be. I asked the Universe how it could be even better, which is one of the pieces of this new Access Consciousness mindset.  Then I took a break and started looking for the Introduction I had prepared early on (for the introducer to use on Saturday ).  As I was looking through my Word files, I found that I had already written a draft of the speech a few weeks earlier from when I had gotten confirmation of the gig, and it was BETTER than the one I had been working on the whole week!  The pieces of the puzzle came together effortlessly. I had forgotten that I had already sketched it out. But once I asked a higher power to help me do this BETTER, there it was! I laughed and laughed. It felt good, I relaxed, and eventually, the program went off quite nicely on Saturday.

All of this is to say that since Solowingnow, I have given myself permission to be and do and have things I might not have pursued while I was married. Kevin certainly would have supported it, but the point is I would have held myself back. Now I think this is all part of the bigger plan, that I am here where there is plenty of support and teaching available to me, in a place that has no preconceived ideas about who I am or what I’m supposed to do or be. I have a freedom here I don’t have when I’m a mom, grandma, sister, daughter, administrator, boss, even friend with a 20 year history. Here and now, I can explore this other possible me.

It’s kind of cool to be me right now.

Oh, and I need to practice this on other people. I am assured I can’t do it wrong (breathe sigh of relief here).  If you want to give it a try, give me a call or drop me a line. I need to do it in person, and you have  nothing to lose but some time (30-45 minutes). When I had it done the first time, it was if I had had a luxurious massage although by body had only been touched in minimal ways (head almostly exclusively). Try it, you’ll like it!!

Self Discipline

26 Thursday Jan 2017

Posted by in New Biz, Transformation

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It’s been said that if you want something done, give it to a busy person.  The thinking is that a busy person knows how to schedule and delegate, and will see to it that the project is completed.  I used to be that way…the one described as the busy person, who got things gone.  Not so much these days!

It turns out that when you have all the time in the world, so to speak, it’s quite easy to develop procrastination skills instead of disciplinary skills.  For example, I currently have the following work-related deadlines or commitments: Jan. 28, Jan. 31, Feb. 1, Apr. 10, and Apr. 25.  Each will require planning, research, and developing an agenda before I get to the actual work of designing a presentation or session. Instead, today I already have completed three loads of laundry, hung a wind spinner thing in my backyard (which I noticed was still in packaging in the laundry room), sorted some plastic rivet things (which came off the spinner package), and texted with a friend about some fun I had yesterday glamming up my camper.

I got to my desk by 9:00 this morning, showered and dressed and face on.  In the past 14 months, I have successfully avoided using an alarm clock except for days when I have HAD to be somewhere early. The result is that sometimes I don’t even roll out of bed until 9, and then by the time I feed the dogs and walk them around the yard, get dressed, make the bed, and have some coffee and cereal, I might not get start any work until noon. Which seems unseemly, almost wicked..

And therein lies the problem: wrong thinking. In reality, I am still getting things done and not messing up deadlines. I may get up later, but I stay up later. I feel productive, if not financially secure! I might take time for a few diversions here and there, but that’s the glory of working for myself, from home.

For example, in the past two days, I have sewn a pair of kitchen curtains for my camper, camper curtains.jpgremoved some blinds and crappy camper valances, camper-diningmade a tablecloth (complete with weights and fringes), hung shelves and hooks, had extended phone conversations with my sister and a girlfriend, hung a new shower curtain, added a little more yard art outside, camper-bathlaundered my bedding and mattress cover, and baked (and ate) chocolate chip cookies, all of which also required shopping for materials. Oh, and I recalibrated my GPS and set up a new geocaching account so I can take that up again. In addition, I have prepared for a presentation I will do on Saturday morning, made an agenda for a meeting I am leading Saturday afternoon, and made a to-do list for a party I am hosting Saturday night.

Come to think of it, I guess I am self-disciplined. And I am also quite productive. And creative.  I am just in need of self–permission to do it my way, instead of on-the-clock like I had done for the previous 30 years. As long as it gets done, it’s more important to enjoy the journey.

A-journeying I will go, too! Camping and geocaching are on the my list for things to do in 2017. I know I am disciplined enough to set goals and to achieve them, so here I go!!! If you care to be my traveling companion from time to time, let me know.  Seriously.

Sabbatical v. Marching

23 Monday Jan 2017

Posted by in Dreaming, Gratitude, Grief, Sabbatical, Transformation

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This past weekend, January 21, 2017, there was a significant demonstration of solidarity for human rights, not just in Washington DC but across the USA and around the world.  It was a focused time to think about what really, really, really matters, and to do something about it.  I had 2 nieces, 2 sisters, 2 granddaughters, one daughter, and several friends attend in Washington DC, Los Angeles, St. Petersburg FL, Fargo ND, and even here in Williamsburg…these are the ones that I know of.  I did not attend, and I’m not even sure how I feel about it after the fact….I don’t regret not attending but I am very proud of those who did.

I stayed away deliberately, because I don’t like huge crowds and, frankly, I was concerned about it turning ugly. The criminal protests and damage that was done on Friday for the inauguration was deplorable. I also don’t attend concerts because of overcrowding, and the anticipated gridlock on the interstates and city roads also was a deterrent. It seems to me that my preference for solitude is growing, and that too is food for thought. I am comfortable with my choice and I am comfortable with the choice others made. That is one of the benefits of living in the USA – the right to make these choices for myself.

It’s not that I want to have others speak for me, or that I am unwilling to stand up for what I believe in. In the past, this Mama Bear has been known to not only defend but to attack priests, the medical profession, family members, bosses, and even basketball coaches, among others, when I felt thwarted, threatened, or demeaned. It’s just not my style if I have other options these days. The option I chose this weekend was prayer, for those marching, as well as for our country and the people in charge of it. I even attended church on Sunday, which those who know me will be (pleasantly?) surprised about, and then several of us talked about the marches for a few hours afterwards. One had been to DC and two others had participated right here in town (which I hadn’t known about). No judgments were made on either side; it was a true time of simply sharing experiences.

I am also proud of those I know who did go. I got tears when I saw the pictures of my daughter and granddaughters dressed in Superwoman and Wonder Woman capes, holding signs and smiling. They are learning that they have a voice and are using it, and that they are not alone. I was happy to see my nieces also taking risks and making statements with their clothing and signs to stand up for what they feel strongly about, not to just attend because it was a thing to do on a Saturday. My sisters are on vacation but still took time to join in a march near where they are. Making time for what is important, instead of making excuses for what is inconvenient, is a valuable skillset we can  all learn from. We all do what we can, when we can, with what we have, in our own ways.

What I’ve been thinking about is how I took the past year as a sabbatical to recalculate what is important to me now. It is too easy to get lost in the everydayness of our lives, to stay on autopilot because we don’t know what else to do, to wait for a better time to do what needs to be done.  I spent many months thinking about my values, religious, political, and otherwise, and I still can’t recite them, but I feel more whole for having gone into the weeds and through the vast fields of doubt and uncertainty to find myself again.

Going within, taking the time to do this, relearning how to take care of myself, and coming up with a plan for being true to myself has been a priceless opportunity for me. I think everyone should take a sabbatical to do this because a single-day march, even for a cause as big as this one, is not enough to sustain new thoughts and ideas. We need action, planned, deliberate, sustainable action. Maybe this is where I can help. We have not begun anything new yet; we have declared the ending of what was. Now is the time to prepare for a new beginning. That is what my sabbatical did for me. It helped me let go of the old ways, the old ideas, the old relationships, the old dreams, and it gave me time to process the change that had occurred and ushered in the necessary space for rethinking these ideals. I am just now sprouting a new beginning.

An Open Letter to my Children on Inauguration

16 Monday Jan 2017

Posted by in Dreaming, Gratitude, Traditions, Transformation, Uncategorized

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Dear Children, One of the posts I saw on Facebook this morning was from a friend who shared a “good read for those who are afraid, upset and disquieted by what will take place this coming Friday…”  Both she and I are in a Speaker’s Academy, and this Friday is when we have our final “showcase” speech and graduation.  She actually was going to withdraw a week ago, feeling unprepared for the event, but she has reconsidered.  Imagine my amusement when I opened the article and discovered it was about Donald Trump’s inauguration set for this Friday also! It was 10 Acts of Resistance on Inauguration Day, and one of them struck a chord with me.

I am writing this letter in response to idea #7, Reassure Your Children, by nurturing their hope.  I urge you to remember that as dramatic as things seem right now, as impossible as the future seems, as opposite the ideals are of the incoming Administration from what you think you would like to see, please know that it will be okay. You have to trust me on this. I don’t mean things are going to be easy, or feel good, or that all the streets will turn to gold and love and peace will overflow.  But I have walked through some parts of hell already in my life, and I do know there is always something else ahead.

You may not think of it this way, but here are a few things that have happened in my time…things I remember for myself.

Collage

  • JFK was assassinated. I was in kindergarten, and I remember the announcement, the crying, being sent home. I didn’t know what it was about, but I knew it was BIG.  I also remember MLK being shot when I 9 years old, and Grandpa’s reaction (one I’m not proud of, but then, it was him, not me), and RFK too.
  • Viet Nam.  Grandpa’s cousin, Bernie, served, so it always seemed personal, although I didn’t really understand it. I was still young.
  • Nixon and Watergate.  I was 16, and we were all in the car driving to Utah for vacation when Nixon resigned. I heard it on the radio, and Grandpa was so angry about it. I remember a fleeting thought of how bad it was going to get if no one was in charge, and wondering if it could be worse than having a crook in charge.
  • Reagan’s victory. I remember standing in a line at the school polling place when it was announced he had won, and we hadn’t even voted yet. It wasn’t long after that I paid 10% interest on a car we bought, and 16% mortgage interest on our home in Cuyamunge. I was making $1850/month working for the state. We survived that, and look at us now.
  • Clarence Thomas hearings, and the Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky scandal. I know where I was, I remember watching the broadcasts.  Same with Oliver North. President Bush and the Gulf War, which my cousin Rick served in, and the next President Bush…’nuff said.
  • 9-11 I was at work, and got a call from Auntie Di asking me if Renae was okay. Renae was, in fact, visiting in my home in Brookings (divine intervention?). I rushed home so we could watch CNN together. What was a last-minute weekend trip became a week, and nothing has really been the same since then.
  • Yada-yada-yada.  Suffice it to say, it’s always something. And yet, here we are.

In the midst of the political angst over the past 40 or 50 years, I also had some personal shit in my life that helped make the politics less important.

  • I buried both my parents and a husband. I also witnessed several good relatives and some friends being laid to rest.
  • I divorced, and moved 6 times after that, trying to provide for my family while completing my college degree, raising teenagers and helping them into college.
  • Tino broke his knee, Renae had endometriosis, Gabe broke his wrist, Brandy rolled a car, Ethan shot out a window in Gabe’s truck, Heather had a baby, Renae got divorced.
  • I loved people who suffered through cancer, had an abortion, were foreclosed on their home, lost a job, went to jail, had surgeries, got divorced, fought with children, were abused, committed suicide, were hospitalized, lost their reputation, buried their children or spouses, and otherwise started over again.

On the other hand, while all this (and more) was going on in my world and other people’s lives, good things happened, and are still happening.

  • I brought up amazing children, who themselves have amazing children.  As my hero Kahlil Gibran reminds us, life goes forward, not backward.  (Donald Trump is already 70; you and your children are the future.) I was able to give each of you an education, a respect for nature, and a strong familial relationship. You are good, kind, hard-working, responsible, nurturing, and loving people. That’s what the world needs. Pass that on to your children, and to your friends and their children. Life is an evolution, not an event. Keep trying to make it better.
  • All my children found and give mature love as adults, and they have made meaningful lives with wonderful partners. They also show love to their families, their friends, their neighbors. I am so proud of each of you.
  • Despite whoever was in the Oval Office, I was able to mend a broken heart, more than once. I know what’s really important to me, and I don’t get so caught in the drama of the news cycle.  It’s good to know that this is possible. Life goes on, and it is worth the effort to see what’s next, to know new people, to try new things, to go new places. There is life after life as you knew it, and there will be life after Donald Trump goes home again.
  • Despite whatever was going on in city hall, or the state capitol, or the Capitol Beltway, I always believed that what I did mattered. Not because I had a select or elite position, but because I know that the everyday little things add up.  All politics are local, and I focused on what I could manage in my own way. Starting at home, always.
  • I still have access to new ideas, books, movies, music, and art. I can avoid the “real” world and all its drama by the diet I feed my mind. I choose to read positive stories with happy endings, I listen to uplifting music, I surround myself with the stuff that makes me feel good. I know people who have lost all that and had to flee their homes in a communist country, and they still survive; they live better now. Be a role model to your children, give them hope.
  • I still had time to experience life, absent the stream of bad news trying to assault me. The Little League games, the indoor soccer matches, the hockey games I still don’t understand, the basketball trips, the Disneyland days, that bus trip to Duluth, the chanting of a choir, the sun in Jamaica, the wine in Italy, country music line-dancing, the cross-country road trips, camping, geo-caching for treasures, hugs and smiles from granddarlings, the singing birds in my own backyard, the antics of puppies and old dogs, good coffee. The mental breaks are vital to my health. I want to see happiness in pictures and videos, share in the moments you think are important, stay in touch with my friends. There is little room for political drama, except West Wing on Netflix!

I don’t think I am abdicating any personal responsibility by not publicly voicing my displeasure at the state of the world and contributing to that negative noise. I have chosen another way, and I do take full responsibility for my personal condition.  Every week at Toastmasters I join like-minded people who are interested in making the world a better place by improving their communication and leadership sTMkills. As I see it, the world is desperately in need of these attributes. Last fall I had the incredible opportunity to see 144 counties sharing a weekend in the pursuit of a better world, at a Toastmasters International conference.  Proof that we can live in a different world. That’s how I serve,  what I choose to be a part of.  As John Lennon said, you may say I’m dreamer, but I’m not the only one.

Right now there is uncertainty because everything is changing.  Remember, not all change is bad, and in the final analysis, at least we are in the USA, not some third world country or communist regime. It’s never been a perfect world, and it likely won’t be while we live on this earth. That’s what heaven is for. And there is always hope for a better, different tomorrow, because you are here and I am here. We can make a difference, we can make choices, we can prove the naysayers wrong about how bad it is. And with my rose-colored glasses on, just think what it might be like if Donald actually does some good!

I challenge you to continue to be grateful for what you have, and to not dwell on what you don’t have. I am grateful that you all are in my life. You and your partners, your children, your friends. 20160627_165608Keep on loving your children, encouraging them, playing with them, nurturing their positive spirits.  Someday probably we will look back on this week and all we feared, but for now I will remember that January 20, 2017, is my son’s birthday, and the day I graduate from the National Speaker’s Association Speaker Academy.  I don’t have any inclination to cast a shadow on this day by worrying about other things.

With everlasting love, Mom

 

Journaling, again

29 Tuesday Nov 2016

Posted by in Grief, Reading, Sabbatical, Traditions, Transformation

≈ 4 Comments

I haven’t found much immediate comfort when I am in the act of writing in my journal, but I do love to go back later and read whatever I wrote.  I guess it’s a good thing when you think your own life is kind of interesting!  Today is a day for that – the rereading. A few days ago was the 2nd anniversary of Kevin’s passing, and tomorrow would have been his 57th birthday. I still miss him like crazy.

For about the first year after he died, I kept a journal using the guest book from his memorial service. A blank page, though, is not my style.  I could fill it up (and then some) once I got going, but getting started is the hard part. Like many things we want to do, I suppose.  Some days take up a paragraph but some are several pages, and some days I didn’t write at all, and the rest of the time, I kept a factual record of what happened more so than a record of my feelings.  Still, it is good for me to see how much has changed, in me, in my world…or not.

What works better for me for journaling is a fill-in-the-blank kind of format.  A friend gave me one for recording info about my motorcycle trips, and I had one for camping also. Then I found a “Me” journal, similar in format to the other two.  I used that style for a long time. I didn’t write every day… Ha! I actually have gathered 13 years’ worth in only 2 volumes! It turns out if you write as infrequently as I do, you can do, you can get around 6 years in one book. me-journal  journal-sample

Of course, there have been other kinds of journals I have kept simultaneously, so it’s quite possible I forgot about the Me book and wrote in others.  What I liked about that format is that there was the front page to write on with blanks to fill in, and then the back side was blank, so I could write whatever I wanted.  But something was missing, something that could make it more, although I don’t know what more is.

I love stationery shops and bookstores, so as I wandered through them here and there, I searched for a better one, the exactly right one.  No luck – and this has gone on for years!  I wanted one that would help me be more proactive, keep my momentum up, encourage me, instead of just logging memories.  So I made my own version, following the ME format.  I took out the weather report line, and added in a “one thing I’ll do today” line. Then I took out the news report, and added in “what I’m reading or listening to.”   my-journalI also added a line for “I took care of myself today by…”  Since I did mine in an Excel format, I just printed them off and hole-punched them for my Day-Timer.  A few other tweaks here and there, and I have my own almost-perfect journal, albeit still more fact-laden than poetry and prose.  I still don’t write in it every day, but it is helpful when I’m feeling the blahs and blues, because I know when I go back later, I can usually glean some insights from what was going on and how I got in or out of that particular time.

One of the best values I have gotten from keeping a journal is emptying out my brain to make room for other memories, other feelings. I know when I’m “full,” that is different from “my cup runneth over.” When there is too much hanging on, and I can’t think, or can’t stop crying, or can’t move forward, that’s when I really need to put it down on paper and save it for another time, when I’m better able to honor those feelings and gently put them away.

I don’t know how long I’ll keep these journals. I kept a journal during my divorce from my first husband. I dragged it around with me during a few moves from state to state, but somewhere along the way, I tore it up. I maybe should have had a burning ceremony or something more dramatic, but I didn’t. I just shredded it and put it in the trash.  Some days now I wish I had it so I could remember better what my life was like and how far I have come since then.  I do still have old love letters, but that’s not the same.

This Solowingnow blog also has been my journal for the past year, along with other notes and pages here and there. I find it gives me peace to review these posts and also know how far I have come on this sabbatical, and how much I have learned about blogging. It appears I am consistent in my spurts and voids in my writing patterns. But this one is public, so to be sure, it is selective.  And that is one thing I have definitely learned: that it’s okay to be selective, that I don’t have to remember everything, that I don’t have to share everything.  My life is more peaceful when I choose to let certain things go away, or when I actively dismiss them by hitting the <delete> button.  Proof positive that this is MY life, MY way.

Another year gone, another new year starting.  I wonder what’s in store for me now!!

4 Days and counting

16 Wednesday Nov 2016

Posted by in Dreaming, Sabbatical, Transformation

≈ 1 Comment

It’s hard to believe that in 4 more days, my sabbatical will be officially over…according to me.  And since it is my sabbatical, I get to decide!

What this means is that I will now discipline myself to get up every day and go to my home office and “work.”  I have plenty to do in terms of writing, developing content for my new business, building a client base and marketing my services, and all the other and sundry things that support a business.  And I’m ready to do that.

What it doesn’t mean is that I will go out and get a “real job” now. My income won’t change…yet…so I will still subsidize my spending from what’s left of my savings.  Being frugal on the home front isn’t so bad after all. I have actually considered a seasonal retail job, but I do also have plans with the kids for Christmas, so that might be a problem. And I’m not the kind of person who could start a job without making a commitment to give it a good faith go for the long term. So until I have to, I’m not going to consider that route.

When I started this sabbatical, I gave myself some rules, which were based on my own definition of what a (self-sponsored) sabbatical is.  First and foremost, it was to be a time of rest and recovery so I could process my grief in a way that was productive for me. I didn’t know exactly what that would be, but I deal with things on an active level, so this time off wasn’t intended to just be a long nap.  In fact, my rules were basically to get out of bed every day and make the bed so I wouldn’t be tempted to get back in, get dressed before noon each day, and get out of the house in some quasi-social way to be around other people at least once a week.  I’m proud to say I was successful in that.

I also considered my sabbatical to be a time of growth and opportunity, and I pursued that through reading and travel.  It turned out that I also have done quite a bit of formal “learning” through attending workshops, information sessions, and conferences. I studied not only grief and grieving, change and transition, and writing, but I also enrolled in a Speaker Academy and worked on developing my skills as an solopreneur in the business of speaking to make money. My former employer’s request for me to teach some classes became an earlier-than-expected return to the working world, but it has given me a head-start on my Next Big Thing which it turns out is speaking, teaching, coaching, and consulting.  All things considered, that purpose of my sabbatical has also been fulfilled.

The primary goal I had, though, was to sort out all the feelings I had over Kevin’s passing, and to discover and get comfortable with Solowingnow, not as a hobby or business endeavor, but as a way of life.  I’m still not a fan of the word “widow,” and I still don’t consider myself “single.”  I am on my own in a mix of those two worlds, but even if I were to engage in a new romantic relationship, being in this space will have its mark on my identity.

The other day a new friend since I’ve moved to Williamsburg commented to me that she hadn’t known this version of me and liked the changes she was seeing, that I smile a lot more these days, and I am optimistic and positive.  A friend who has known me a very long time also said that she noticed I seem to be the “old Pat” again.  No better testimonial than those as to my acceptance of my new life.  Of course, this assumes I was happy with the “old Pat,” which I am, although it’s also fair to say I am still moving forward and prefer the “new old Pat.”

Making the shift now from Sabbatical As A Time For Me to working from home will require some new rules. After all, one of my goals now is to make enough money to support me and my business, which will mean consistently making sales, creating a support team, and putting some systems in place.  I have devised a “3 month hustle” plan to get me out of the starting block. And I will refine my 1, 2, and 3-year plans as I get those business formalities in place and the foundation solidified. New rules include having a work schedule, following a plan for when I will do the tasks of running a business (such as admin work on Monday and Friday afternoons, 1-a-day marketing, networking at least twice a week for now, reading/learning on Wednesdays, appointment/call days, etc.).

I am also going to shift away from personal email and facebook during my prime working hours (which may well include hours after 5 pm since I find evening work time to be more productive for me than early mornings), using my business email address more consistently, changing my voice mail on the phone to reflect it is a business people have reached, and answering it with professional greeting instead of just “hello.”  And I will track where I spend my time (or not) so I can continue to make progress toward the lifestyle I desire.  After all, if it turns out that I don’t spend any time caring for me, or doing the things I say I want to do, then my lifestyle will not be reflective of how I envision it being. Who wants that? Been there, done that.

This sabbatical year also has been a time for shaking off the intense work structure I had adopted, and while I haven’t been exactly loosey-goosey lately, I have been very flexible with how and when I do things. This includes when I eat breakfast, when I get groceries, when I do housework, how long my lunch-hour is, when I sit at my desk, how many times I walk around the neighborhood, and where I go on spontaneous road trips.  Now I have to get back into a routine, because I know that will serve me and my business goals, but I will be alert to how it impacts my Self and my life. No longer am I aiming for balance, which implies equal time for work and non-work. Now I am after integration of my personal and professional personas, with a lifestyle (including work and how I contribute to my world) that is of my choosing and my making.

I am Solowingnow and more than content with that….more than accepting….certainly not settling.  I am embracing, I am flying, I am feeling momentum build. I feel strong again, I feel prepared, I feel grateful for having been able to live this sabbatical year on my terms. It’s great to be me again, and I’m looking forward to the next best version of me, too.

A PMI Lesson about the Election

09 Wednesday Nov 2016

Posted by in Grief, Traditions, Transformation

≈ 1 Comment

The Myth of the 5 Stages of Grief

Those 5 stages of grief most of us are familiar with came from Dr Elisabeth Kubler-Ross about 50 years ago. They were Anger, Denial, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. What most people don’t know is that they were framed around the idea of a grief resulting from learning that one was dying, not that someone (or something) had died. The concept was then generically applied to all kinds of grieving, and somewhere, somehow, lost in the translation were other feelings and emotions that also occur during grief.  This list includes

  • shock
  • sadness
  • blame
  • forgetfulness
  • guilt
  • searching
  • isolation
  • disorganization
  • forgiveness
  • confusion
  • hope
  • exhaustion
  • recovery
  • adjustment.

These feelings don’t occur sequentially, and they aren’t all necessary for one to fully grieve. Some of them will ricochet and recur. It doesn’t matter if you are grieving the loss of a person close to you, or an idea or dream you had, or plans in the making. Or a presidential term.

Transition

I have been learning about grieving for the past two years since my husband died.  I also learned about the transition time that occurs after the grievable event.  First there must be a letting go of the past, the person, the dreams, a time when our feelings are right at the surface and seem uncontrollable. Then there is a neutral time when feeling are sorting themselves out, searching for answers, trying on new routines, and re-entering the world.  Finally, there is a new beginning. A time of new patterns that stick, new relationships, new ways of thinking, a new normal.  It is all quite subjective, dependent upon the person and the circumstances. Let’s use this model to consider our election yesterday.

Subjective to Objective: a PMI Lesson

One other valuable lesson I learned is how to move from that place where I was stuck in subjective thinking about Poor Me to being more objective re: my future.  I recalled an old method I used from teaching about how to expand my thinking and calm (if not remove) emotional reactions to the situation…eventually. Not everything is positive or negative, pro or con, good or bad, right or wrong.  A great many things just are. They are interesting, or just worth noticing, without labeling. It helped me be open-minded about my new future and changed my attitude, and it took me several months to get to this stage. It really was a turning point to be able to honor my feeling without being attached to them or justify them.  But I was able to finally move beyond wherever I was stuck to a new place or new way of thinking.  It was active, so I could finally really “let go” and anticipate my recovery.

The way a PMI works is that you take an event, and you make an effort to find the good points (Plus), the bad points (Minus) and the neutral (Interesting) points .. neither good nor bad but still there in the mix. When Kevin died, it was hard, but not impossible, to find any good or Plus points: no pain for him, no fear, no expensive medical heroics, no incapacitation.  The bad or Minus points were more obvious: he was gone, I had no companion for dinner or date for New Year’s Eve, he couldn’t see his grandchildren grow up or take them hunting and fishing, my financial outlook was gouged, dog care and home maintenance became new chores for me.  On the interesting side, a challenging task, I was single for the first time in my adult life, perhaps I took it for granted that marriage is best because I was used to it, or that working for an employer or having dual income sources was safer because I had always done it that way. Two steps forward, one step back …is still forward progress.

In terms of the presidential election, I’ll admit that neither candidate seemed all that worthy to me, but they were the choices we gave ourselves. This is important to remember, since in most grief, the choice of loss is never ours to begin with, and that feeling of loss of control or helplessness is often disabling and frustrating.  On the Plus side, we get to vote in this country, and many more people got involved in the election than in the past.  We saw our first serious woman candidate. And the campaigning is over for now. I haven’t tried too hard to find more on this side. On the Minus side, the campaigning brought out the worst in not only the candidates but in their supporters and opponents.  The billions of dollars spent could have been put to much better use for people in need.  The stock market has plunged already. And the list goes on.   But then there is the Interesting side.  It is interesting that the polls and predictions were so far off.  It is interesting that the president-elect’s own party did not stand behind him publicly, yet he won. It will be interesting to see if he can deliver on his campaign promises. It will be interesting to watch how Congress responds to him. It will be interesting to find out who he selects as advisors and cabinet members, or if his nominees will be approved. It will be interesting to see if there is a sustained engagement by the people at local levels. It will be interesting to see if he can win in 4 more years, or to see who the Democrats will support then.

What Next?

This isn’t over yet. I am glad there will be a time of formal transition in Washington. This is a time when the healing begins, when we watch with curiosity, with speculation, and regain our balance.  During this time we also must take care of ourselves, put away any blame for the way it is or how things got this way, and forgive the process if it didn’t give us what we thought we wanted.  We should try and find a way to help instead of hinder the growth that can come from this. It may feel unnatural to bypass our emotional reactions, but in the best interests of our collective future, we must try.

Finally, I have learned from my introspection during this sabbatical of mine that grief doesn’t have to last forever, and love doesn’t have to die…and I mean love for ideals and dreams as much as for people. The opposite of love isn’t hate; it’s indifference. Care as much tomorrow as you do today about what you say matters to you. If you want change, what are you willing to do to make that happen? If you want tolerance, practice tolerance. If you want a voice, act..with constructive energy. Don’t let this election drama be for naught.