Category: deep stuff

holiday followup

i vented a bit about how the holidays were a little hard on my heart and soul this year, but i wanted to circle back with an update. i didn’t just wallow in the hurt, not at all.

on christmas day, i dragged bags of groceries over to a friend’s and we made an elaborate and delicious meal that took hours. we laughed and made messes and ate until we had no room for even that beautiful pumpkin pie we made.

after christmas, i took another friend out to see some gorgeous christmas lights. i had brunch, mimosas and all, at a nice restaurant with still another friend. i spent a girls day out with my kiddo, too.

new year’s eve, i was the somewhat reluctant designated driver for some friends. with my abscessed tooth and dislike of drunk crowds, i didn’t want to go anywhere. i am glad i was coerced into going and laughing in the new year.

yeah, there was a lot on my mind this holiday, but I deliberately made some changes to do things differently. i went against my introverted tendencies, made plans, and had a lovely time, even with all the crazy health issues that popped up. not everything is within my control, but i did my best to find the good in the things that i could change.

new year’s day thoughts

it’s after 3 am on January 1.

wide awake because as designated driver, i was drinking soda all night.

my face hurts, friggin’ abscessed tooth, but i rang in (moshed in) the new year with a smile anyway.

i still mosh or slam dance or whatever you call it. i’ve always been a sturdy, strong beastie of a girl, well suited to play defense in soccer and to mosh hard in a ring of sweaty men at concerts. it’s a healthy way to deal with my stress.

my ears are still ringing from the music, but i thought i should wish 2014 farewell and greet the new year here in this space with some thoughts.

there were some awkward, hard, yucky times in 2014. i was faced several times over with “settling” for less than what was good for me…and i’m proud to say i walked away from those situations. it wasn’t easy, but i have worked hard to choose myself in the last year, to put my well-being first whenever possible. self preservation isn’t always popular, and being perpetually single sucks, but i will not compromise on some issues–i just can’t and won’t.

my biggest accomplishment of 2014 is letting good people back into my life. i have willfully isolated myself over the last few years and been very guarded, but in 2014, especially in the last few months, i was deliberately different. i gave and received hugs, tons of them. i texted and emailed people who made me laugh or made me think. maybe not a big deal to you, dear reader, but openly letting people care about me is not something i’m good at; it’s fucked up, because i can care about people all day long, but i’m resistant to letting them care about me. in 2014, i let some good ones in, closer, confiding, laughing; i hope they’ll hang around.

2015 is a blank book, a blank canvas. i hope i do good things with it. i want to love some great people and let them love me back. i want to laugh a hell of a lot. i want to watch movies on my friends’ couches and stay up late talking about everything and nothing. i want to push myself physically just because i can. i want to get to know the good people in my world, and i’m finally okay with really letting these good people know me. i want to read good books, eat amazing meals, and take walks where i notice the clouds or the stars. i wish for time for relaxation as well as time for grand adventures. i hope i get to kiss the hell out of someone in 2015 and steal their blankets. happy new year, friends.

The Courage to Start (Again)

treadmill [twitter style=”horizontal” source=”katiemotivates” float=”left”] [fbshare type=”button”]

I started back on the treadmill recently with one of those couch to 5K apps.  After the severity of my last ankle injury, I’ve been hesitant to start over…because that’s what it was: starting over from zero.  I’ve started from zero about a zillion times where exercise is concerned because I’ve broken, sprained, strained, pulled, bruised and re-broken just about everything possible as an adult.  It’s hard to find the courage to start over again, because going into it, you know it’s going to be hard, it’s going to hurt, and there may be more than a few failures along the way to success.

Whether you’re talking about exercise, forgiveness, school, career or anything else, starting over is hard, but all you have to do is start.  Start where you are with what you have.  In my case, I was starting out of shape (well, round IS a shape, and lumpy is kind of a shape) and in the only pair of sneakers that had shoelaces remaining in them after the puppy went on a shoe-eating spree.   I won’t lie: day one sucked…SUCKED.  Every injury of the last twenty years from head to toe was announcing its presence, and my lungs were on fire.

Let’s be real: my work is sedentary, so there was never going to be some magical fit day that I could lace up my sneakers and be a gym ninja on my first try.  This was going to take work, and better to start now than on some vague day in the future.  Yep, I’ve finished countless 5Ks and 8Ks and even a triathlon, but nothing since the last big injury, and I was starting to feel restless.

We all need some inspiration and some encouragement to get us going in the right direction.  I found my inspiration in an unlikely place, a friend from elementary school who has gone from over a decade of sedentary life to being annoyingly fit in the last year or so.  Like, you run into them and the first thing you think after sucking in your own gut is “Dammit, when did this fit crap happen?”  We’re the same age, so screw it; I will not be bested by my elementary school classmates.  He inspired me (thank you), and thus I named my new gym endeavor “Oh For Fuck’s Sake: If My Homeboy Can Do This Shit So Can I.”  So far, so good.

I have a long damn way to go before I get back to what I consider reasonably fit and strong.  I’d like to get back to crossfit in 2015, but I’ve got to pace myself carefully to get back to that level.  Rushing into it would be a recipe for failure, injury, and 20 gallons of Ben and Jerry’s.  Know yourself, your pace, and don’t compare your journey to anyone else’s.

Start where you are: that’s all you can do.  Whatever it is that you need to face: a broken heart, addiction, exercise, job hunting, learning a new language, grief, giving up gluten, writing a book…whatever it is, large or small, all you can do is start where you are today.

There’s no magical way to fast forward through the hard parts.  There are no legitimate shortcuts.  If there were legit shortcuts, we’d all be super sexy multilingual salad-eating marathon-running supermodels happily married to gorgeous significant others while working soul-satisfying jobs, sleeping 9 hours a night, and teaching our dogs to use the toilet, put the seat down and flush.  There are no shortcuts to health, to healing, to happiness…no shortcuts to anything worth having.

There are no valid excuses.  People with no legs finish marathons.  The broken-hearted love again.  There is life to savor after grief.  To get there from here, you have to make the choice to start, no matter how simply.  Find your sneakers.  Delete your ex-boyfriend’s phone number from your phone.  Plant a tree.  Start. Start, and then perhaps you’ll be someone else’s inspiration, no matter how unintentional, but start. miracle

Crazy

You are such a bullshitter.  You say you don’t want anything to do with that craziness, but you willfully sign right back up for it and invite it in, maybe even feed it some fruitcake to fuel the fire.  Nothing says “Merry Christmas” like a trip on the crazy train.  Ring in the new year in a swirling vortex of insanity and drama, because while you refuse to admit it, you love it.  You feed on the lunacy.

I wash my hands of this nonsense, and you have my help no more.

Things I Could’ve Said in 2014

You ever think back on a conversation and wonder why you didn’t have the snappy comeback you needed or why you bit your tongue instead of speaking?

Here are some things that were said to me in 2014, and alas, what I didn’t say in return in the last twelve months.

“I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have.”
Easypeasy, jackass.  Stop being a dick.  It’s so simple.  Stop being a dick.  That’s all.  Be a decent human.  Give love and receive love without being a dick.  If it seems shady, mean, or rude, don’t do it.

“You have intimacy issues.”

No, actually, I have standards against being “intimate” with liars and con artists.  I am not for sale.

“I don’t understand how you can turn your back on me.”

I don’t understand how you can treat people you allegedly care about so badly and think they’ll sign up for more.  What you call turning my back, I call self respect.

Would speaking up have made any difference? Probably not.  It’s not my job to reassemble the broken people that come into my life, but it is my job to honor and respect myself.

 

still alive, kinda kickin

sick for the second time in a month, or maybe i was never fully well?

urgent care. fever.  bed.

i’m a little down.  i’ve tried building bridges this year that were promptly burnt to the ground.  i’ve tried to take new paths, bring in new people, only to learn that the big bad wolf wears many disguises.  i just plain hate the hurt.  i hate it.

i am momentarily discouraged.  this is a hard time of year for anyone who has no significant other.  i miss the house full of kids.  i miss planning, wrapping, traveling to see distant family.  there’s just no substitute for making xmas breakfast with your other while the kids and pets run wild with holiday joy.  there’s a big empty hurt place that i thought was okay until i pulled out the decorations, and i think the big empty hurt place is bigger, darker than it was last year.

dammit, i’ve tried to fix it all. i’ve tried to mend it. i’ve tried to mend myself.  i have tried so fucking hard.  i know there is good stuff out there for me somewhere, and i’m open to allowing, receiving the good stuff.

if you have a partner, a family, count your blessings.  you are so lucky.  you are so fortunate to have another adult to come home to that cares about you.  yes, i have friends, and damn fine ones at that, but it’s not the same as having your lover and your private jokes and stolen blankets and hugs and adventures.  it’s just not the same.

today was a terrible day

i had every hope that today would be awesome. i had coffee in bed with the dogs this morning.  i meditated.  i listened to not one but two sets of positive affirmations.  i even looked kinda cute-ish.

and then my day unfolded.

my spirits weren’t just dashed: they were crushed.

my feelings were hurt to the point of weeping humiliation by a cruel insult.  the friend that was supposed to drop by later didn’t and i really needed the hug, the support.  a word i was praying for never came either, so i finally took my crying self home early.

i climbed back into bed even though it was mid-afternoon.  i cried with my dogs.  i cried with my senile cat.

i was even naive enough to hope the day might improve.  it didn’t. six hours later, i’m still boohooing in bed.  eyes swollen.  head hurts.  faith in the world around me lost for the moment.

some days just fucking suck.

 

I Send a Message

I tell so much here, and at the same time, I tell nothing at all, really.  It’s important to only bleed so much on the keyboard, to not give away all my thoughts to anyone that happens on this page.

But today, I send a gigantic message and hope it gets through. Damn it, I am trying. Cut me some slack.

hotel am kastell

And here’s a song about sending a message…it’s INXS recorded in Rotterdam:

wine and whine

Last weekend, I had a great dinner with a longtime friend.  Somewhere about halfway through that 1.5 liter bottle of Shiraz-Grenache, the conversation turned to how we had imagined things would be for us by this point in life.

She told me she always thought I’d end up partnered forever and ever with HeWhoShallRemainNameless.  I sighed, shook my head, and said, “Yeah, I did, too, but he never ever said he wanted it, us, just us, or I would’ve said yes.”

“Obviously, he wanted you guys to be together,” she replied.

“Yes, but he never said it, and I think a man should say it.  Say I want you only.”

She nodded and agreed, “Yes, the man should be the one to say it.”

I’ve given this a lot of thought…too much thought because of course I over-think everything all day long.  When I think back over my life all the way back to my teen years, I’ve had only two, maybe three (that 3rd one’s kinda iffy, maybe he’s just an honorable mention), Great Loves. Great Loves: the ones I would do anything for if they asked, and I’m pretty sure at the right moment in time, they would have done anything for me.  They understood me, got me, and were OK with the real me, the one behind the scenes when the public facade is gone. The Great Loves and I were comfortable together, but still sexy together…sometimes comfortable is the opposite of sexy, y’know?  I laughed with my Great Loves, traveled with my Great Loves, kissed until we had chapped lips, listened to so much amazing music, watched movies in bed, and had candlelit pizza dinners with the Great Loves.  With the Great Loves, life and love were adventures.  Life and love were delicious, something to savor, be in awe of, wallow in, immerse the soul.  I believed in a tomorrow with a Great Love by my side.

I also believed that is was my Great Love’s job, duty, role to be the one to say, “I want you only.”  It was his job to say “let’s do this,” whether that meant an engagement or a seriously committed monogamous relationship, whatever, it was his place to man up.  I’ll be the one to say “you hung the moon; I love you.”  I’ll be the one to say “I miss you.”  I’ll do and say all the things that indicate that the door is open, but to me, it’s critical that the man be the one to call dibs, commit, shut down the options.

So.  What have I missed by insisting that the man be the one to say “go?”  Is the whole shebang my fault for having an expectation of manly men who speak up??

Sigh.  I still want that.  I still want the man to be the man, even if that’s a ridiculous concept.  I like the ridiculous concept.  I want the ridiculous concept.

Pure Joy

I belong to a geographic group on Facebook.  Daily, there are all kinds of posts from stuff for sale to inquiries about where to find the best pizza in town to thoughts on politics or even jokes.  Recently, someone posted that she is the caregiver for an older special needs woman.  The woman had always wanted to be a ballerina, and a generous local dance school offered her a scholarship to learn ballet.  The caregiver was looking to borrow or find inexpensive ballet gear to make this dream come true.

The local community rallied and gathered ballet gear in the blink of an eye.  Her caregiver shared a photo of the woman glowing, radiant, and happy in her tutu and leg warmers, and I could absolutely feel her happiness in the photo as she was one step closer to realizing her dream.  She was beaming!  The Facebook group had many supportive comments in response to the photo, and soon enough, the local news channel had caught word of the community’s outreach to help one special needs woman with big dreams.  They filmed a spot for the evening news of her showing off her ballet gear and her best ballet twirl.

Her caregiver posted in the Facebook group that they were going to have a “viewing party” to celebrate the woman being on the news at a local restaurant.  I had somewhere I needed to be right after work that day, but I kept looking at the post over and over…I was so touched by her optimistic dreams and caregiver’s kindhearted efforts to make everything come together that I just had to do something.

I left work 5 minutes early to dash to the closest grocery store to find a cake suitable for a ballerina who was being featured on the news.  I found a cake with cheerful, bright icing flowers, but also grabbed a single cupcake so the ballerina wouldn’t have to share.

This was completely nuts.  I didn’t know this woman or her caregiver, but watching the story unfold through Facebook resonated with me enough that I was scampering into a restaurant, cake in hand.

When I spotted them, I approached the table, and said, “Hi, aren’t you the famous ballerina?” and the ballerina-in-the-making smiled the biggest smile and nodded enthusiastically.  Her caregiver and friends smiled, too, a table full of love and happiness.  I explained that I brought cake to celebrate her being on television, but that the big cupcake with the flower on top was just for her.

She gave me such a sincere, sweet, spontaneous hug and smiled the most radiant grin that I almost burst into happy tears on the spot.  She was pure joy, so in the moment, so delighted.  Her happiness was contagious, filling the room and my heart in an instant.

I brought this future ballerina the gift of cake, but her hug, her joy, her boundless optimism that despite any limitations life may have dealt her, she was going to be a ballerina…all of that was a gift for me.  Her ability to be so present was glorious.

So much to learn from one sweet spirit: Be here now; be present.  Giving a gift can actually be a gift for the giver.  It is never to late to chase your dreams.  There is delight in every step of the journey.  Limitations are only barriers if you perceive them as insurmountable.

Thank you, sweet ballerina; thank you so much.