It was the day after Christmas and I needed a cry. The feelings just sit on my chest and I can tell the energy needs to pass through. There is so much buildup for Christmas in so many different ways. The pressure of the season to have the "most wonderful time of the year" amidst decorating, present buying, party attending, card distribution, AND celebrating the reason for the season along with getting together with relatives. And then it's over, just like that.
I have had to lower my expectations.
In the car the last week or so, I heard the band Alabama, singing "Angels Among Us" and I immediately started a full out ugly cry within seconds of hearing the chorus. So this morning while the kids were still sleeping, or so I thought, I played a video to bring the feeling sitting on my chest out. As soon as I hear the children's chorus, the tears start falling. It's so cathartic and so needed. My youngest walked in, sat by me, asked what was going on and I said that I missed GaGa. She tenderly sat next to me, put her arm around me and watched the video with me, and I told her it's okay to cry. I absolutely love that we have this moment. She is learning that all emotions are okay. And then we carried on with the rest of our day.
I think I have the skills to be a dramatic actress now. (he he) I see what actors have to tap into- to bring it, to bring that palpable depth of emotion. It is not easy whatsoever. And it's that vulnerability that draws the audience in. It is some of the hardest work I have ever done to sit with the most exquisite discomfort and allow it to flow. It has taken years of practice because I emotionally shut down after the postpartum depression I had. And actors do this for a living. They purposely bring up this painful stuff. I have read and listened to actors talking about their processes and it is fascinating and therapeutic.
This is also where numbing can take place if you think the pain of whatever it is too much. For myself and so many, numbing is the answer because it's excruciating to be with that pain. I still numb some and it may always be part of my repertoire yet I have other coping skills now. One of them is writing and for so many years I have been doing so in blog form and this year has not been a good year for that. I have felt stuck and I have to do something about it. I have begun to do handwrite in a journal and it is a much different practice than typing it on a computer. It takes time to learn to do that practice.
This year, I went through a major shift with a person in my life. It reached a point where I had to let go of ever connecting at the level that I so very deeply desired. I had to let go of expectations on my part that would never be fulfilled and I was devastated. I grieved and realized that I spent a lot of energy on something that was not producing. It was time to move on and free up energy and see what else is out there to connect with that I'm not imagining. Letting go can make room for something bigger? I live with such great intention on many areas but this area tripped me up so much. I need to stop and evaluate what is working and what is not and move on.
I have to lower my expectations for some people, places and things and move on to new areas and adventures.
Although I understand the acting technique, I don't think I will be taking any head shots or taking a Playmakers theater class anytime soon. I don't think it is where my heart lies. I can tap into sadness, anger and joy pretty easily. I need a little more work with joy I think. But I will continue to enjoy the arts as much as I always have. There is a reason the Oscars are my favorite time of year. It is the reason that I LOVE going to the movies. It is the reason songs can move me to tears or happiness within seconds. The movies I'm drawn to are the ones all about humans and their emotional entanglements. This is who I am.
Namaste.
Wednesday, December 28, 2016
Ode To The Bravery of Carrie Fisher (not necessarily Princess Leia)
The author, Anne Lamott said this...
…Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen. Repent just means to change direction—and NOT to be said by someone who is waggling their forefinger at you. Repentance is a blessing. Pick a new direction, one you wouldn’t mind ending up at, and aim for that. Shoot the moon.
(It thrills me that repent means to change direction and she mentions that's it's not wagging a finger in someone's face. It's a blessing not a judgment. I've never had that wonderful connotation of that word and I've started to rewire the definition in my head.)
Back to Carrie Fisher. I know I watched Star Wars long ago but that is not what stuck with me about her. The movie Postcards from The Edge stuck so I read the book. And then I read Surrender the Pink and Wishful Drinking. I just added The Princess Diarist to my hold's list on Overdrive. Yesterday, I watched the "Wishful Drinking" special again On Demand. The diagram of her family was hilarious.
It must have been in the 2008 book, Wishful Drinking, what she said about living with bi-polar: "At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you're living with this illness and functioning at all, it's something to be proud of, not ashamed of. They should issue medals along with the steady stream of medication."That resonated with me so deeply and clinched me as a fan. I suffered terribly with Postpartum depression and anxiety after my first child. It was the hardest thing I have ever gone through. I felt so very alone and there were so many days, weeks, and sometimes just a moment felt like a struggle. Making it through an hour was sometimes way too much to comprehend. I was so alone and felt so hopeless with a helpless infant who needed me, just me. It was the lowest of lows and the anxiety and the crying were endless. (Mine and Riley's!) It took me months to understand that I needed to take an anti-depressant to get back on track. And it took at least a year to begin to feel like myself again. The hiccup was that the first night I took an anti-depressant, it lit me up even higher with anxiety than I already was experiencing. I didn't sleep a wink and I thought that they were going to have to lock me away because I couldn't sleep nor could I function anymore. I can recall the terror of that period instantly and that night permanently and forever scarred me. In hindsight, I should have taken an anti-anxiety along with the anti-depressant until my body adjusted to the anti-depressant. That bout with PPD changed my life and started me on the journey I am now on.
I can't imagine living with a daily struggle of bipolar that is so merciless that leads to electric-shock therapy. But you have to do what you have to do. One can overcome so many odds.
When I read that passage in Wishful Drinking, I thought, oh my gosh, yes! Instead of looking down on people with mental illness, they really should be applauded because it can be an ongoing, daily, sometimes hourly struggle. And Carrie Fisher said this out loud!! Wow! Bravo! Through the pages of a book, it made me feel not so alone for what I had gone through. Sometimes, a connection can be made by reading a book, and now it can be online.
I will miss her wit and her courage and seeing her dog, Gary. I will miss that she stood up for herself and body image for many of us when they shamed her for not looking like her 19 year old self in a bikini. Carrie wrote about the despair of mental illness but also made it funny. Princess Leia was a formidable opponent, but it is Carrie Fisher who was the bravest bad ass to me. Someone who speaks up for those who have no voice. RIP Carrie Fisher. You are gone too soon.
Namaste.
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Annie Ruined the Carpet and I Despised Her
Annie was our family's first dog. It was quite the experience when we adopted her in 2012. She peed on the carpet in our spare room and in Mallory's room repeatedly and I despised her. I truly, truly despised her and didn't see what having a dog was about at all. George and I would have disagreements about how to handle the situation, that were worse than disagreeing about parenting. I think for me because it was a freaking dog and we didn't have to have her or this stress in the first place. I will admit that I would resent Mallory who wanted the dog in the first place. I remember Annie trying to run away and I thought, GO! (Though, she had a chip and would eventually be returned to us.) It was very ugly in the beginning. And in hindsight, it was all about boundaries. I had to learn to have some...with a dog. I had to learn boundaries with her and it was a great indicator of how to do it with humans as well.
Annie is not an affectionate kind of dog either unlike Brinkley who is a true unconditional loving dog. Annie has her own way, but I'm learning to respect her for who she is because she can be freaking funny when she is falling asleep. Brinkley will follow me into the closet when I'm having an ugly cry. He doesn't lick my face but he sits with me. What other creature will do that? Annie, on the other hand, only pays attention to you when you have the promise of food, or when she is frightened of the weather or the cats. The rest of the time, she is asleep and loudly snoring. She is
who she is.
Boundaries. Anger is a sign that your boundaries aren't being respected or that you need to set some up!! And it's not easy work and there is much practice, practice, practice.
The picture to the left is from the book, "The Artist's Way." As you can see it spoke to me. Anger is not about the other person or dog!!! It's about going inward and not acting out, but acting upon, making a change, unless you like to stay angry? I was very angry at Annie with all the ruining of the carpet but I needed to think out of the box. I had never had a dog, an old "set in her ways" dog at that and had no idea how to have an inside dog. We had put her in a crate early on and she yelped. So we backed down and didn't do that anymore. In hindsight, that was the very thing we needed to do. And use treats. Treats are the bomb! She may have yelped at the crate but she would have acclimated. When we adopted Brinkley over a year later with urinating problems still going on, we had bigger issues of biting, etc so we finally got a dog trainer in our lives. I needed outside assistance to help us think out the box. We eventually made our way around to crating Annie at night. I don't even remember if she disliked it, but she now goes into the "sleeping box" as George calls it. I know George thought it was harsh to put her in there and separate her from us. He is such the softie. But that has been the trick as well as taking her outside in the morning and at other times of the day with the treat and demanding she "go potty." This training takes time and practice.
Learning this big lesson that went on for more than a year with a dog, has been such the example of how to deal with people as well. Thinking outside the box, not being entrenched in one way of doing things, letting go of expectations, and getting outside assistance if needed. Old dogs and I mean me can learn new tricks.
And, so often, I am so thankful that my old soul Mallory, incessantly begged for a dog, not once but twice. These four leggeds are members of our family. I totally understand dog people now. It took a while but I finally do. And not all dogs are the same, just like children.
Annie is not an affectionate kind of dog either unlike Brinkley who is a true unconditional loving dog. Annie has her own way, but I'm learning to respect her for who she is because she can be freaking funny when she is falling asleep. Brinkley will follow me into the closet when I'm having an ugly cry. He doesn't lick my face but he sits with me. What other creature will do that? Annie, on the other hand, only pays attention to you when you have the promise of food, or when she is frightened of the weather or the cats. The rest of the time, she is asleep and loudly snoring. She is
who she is.
Boundaries. Anger is a sign that your boundaries aren't being respected or that you need to set some up!! And it's not easy work and there is much practice, practice, practice.
The picture to the left is from the book, "The Artist's Way." As you can see it spoke to me. Anger is not about the other person or dog!!! It's about going inward and not acting out, but acting upon, making a change, unless you like to stay angry? I was very angry at Annie with all the ruining of the carpet but I needed to think out of the box. I had never had a dog, an old "set in her ways" dog at that and had no idea how to have an inside dog. We had put her in a crate early on and she yelped. So we backed down and didn't do that anymore. In hindsight, that was the very thing we needed to do. And use treats. Treats are the bomb! She may have yelped at the crate but she would have acclimated. When we adopted Brinkley over a year later with urinating problems still going on, we had bigger issues of biting, etc so we finally got a dog trainer in our lives. I needed outside assistance to help us think out the box. We eventually made our way around to crating Annie at night. I don't even remember if she disliked it, but she now goes into the "sleeping box" as George calls it. I know George thought it was harsh to put her in there and separate her from us. He is such the softie. But that has been the trick as well as taking her outside in the morning and at other times of the day with the treat and demanding she "go potty." This training takes time and practice.Learning this big lesson that went on for more than a year with a dog, has been such the example of how to deal with people as well. Thinking outside the box, not being entrenched in one way of doing things, letting go of expectations, and getting outside assistance if needed. Old dogs and I mean me can learn new tricks.
And, so often, I am so thankful that my old soul Mallory, incessantly begged for a dog, not once but twice. These four leggeds are members of our family. I totally understand dog people now. It took a while but I finally do. And not all dogs are the same, just like children.
Monday, September 26, 2016
The First Debate is Here...Working On My Messaging
Here we are...the first debate is tonight. I have so many strong feelings.
My younger daughter told me this weekend, they talked about politics in math last week. Okay. I asked if she told them I was voting for Hilary, because I knew she would spill the beans but that is okay with me. It has taken a long time to sit in my truth. We have had discussions in the house... very spirited discussions on my part but I answer her questions as evenly as I can ( in my passionate way.)
She said I told them you hate Donald Trump.
Sigh.
Okay, I have to work on my messaging.
I said I don't hate Donald Trump. I do not agree with ANYTHING he has to say and yet he is a child of God just like everyone else. (I don't want to hate anyone.) And although I passionately disagree with EVERYTHING that comes out of his mouth, I don't hate him.
(Or do I?)
(Face cringed)
The fact that Donald Trump bothers me as much as he does, psychologically/behaviorally means I'm still moving away from my former views (and truthfully fear - he promotes fear (or himself) every time he speaks and it's still my soft spot.) Look at the title of this website. It takes time to shift from Fear to Love. I initially moved into the red territory when I became of voting age because that is what was all around me. But slowly over the years, I claimed who and what I believe as a woman, a Southerner, and a child of God, me.
I had to detangle religion and politics. And I do, more so every day. And I identify as a Democrat.
I read a lot but don't watch a lot of TV coverage because I do get worked up about it. I have to let it go, so I can sleep at night and live peaceably and productively during the day. But I am fascinated by politics. I loved my Political Science classes at LSU. I have more work to do, learning to agree to disagree and George can attest to that. Spirited discussions...
Back to my chat with Mallory. She listed off most everyone whom Trump has offended and his potential policies that are hurtful to large groups of people, religions etc. etc. I was surprised that she named as many as she did. Those are the facts, and the truth. I do want to present both sides so that she can make up her own mind, but there has never been a candidate so untested, unprepared and unchecked by the media and without the temperance to be the leader of the free world.
I don't know if Mallory believes that I don't hate him, but it's a work in progress to live into my truth. I will work on my messaging. I will try to bring the passion down a notch or two.
I will work on being more even keeled because that is where I want to be. More LOVE. Less fear.
Namaste.
My younger daughter told me this weekend, they talked about politics in math last week. Okay. I asked if she told them I was voting for Hilary, because I knew she would spill the beans but that is okay with me. It has taken a long time to sit in my truth. We have had discussions in the house... very spirited discussions on my part but I answer her questions as evenly as I can ( in my passionate way.)
She said I told them you hate Donald Trump.
Sigh.
Okay, I have to work on my messaging.
I said I don't hate Donald Trump. I do not agree with ANYTHING he has to say and yet he is a child of God just like everyone else. (I don't want to hate anyone.) And although I passionately disagree with EVERYTHING that comes out of his mouth, I don't hate him.
 |
| It should say "we're" |
(Face cringed)
The fact that Donald Trump bothers me as much as he does, psychologically/behaviorally means I'm still moving away from my former views (and truthfully fear - he promotes fear (or himself) every time he speaks and it's still my soft spot.) Look at the title of this website. It takes time to shift from Fear to Love. I initially moved into the red territory when I became of voting age because that is what was all around me. But slowly over the years, I claimed who and what I believe as a woman, a Southerner, and a child of God, me.
I had to detangle religion and politics. And I do, more so every day. And I identify as a Democrat.
I read a lot but don't watch a lot of TV coverage because I do get worked up about it. I have to let it go, so I can sleep at night and live peaceably and productively during the day. But I am fascinated by politics. I loved my Political Science classes at LSU. I have more work to do, learning to agree to disagree and George can attest to that. Spirited discussions...
Back to my chat with Mallory. She listed off most everyone whom Trump has offended and his potential policies that are hurtful to large groups of people, religions etc. etc. I was surprised that she named as many as she did. Those are the facts, and the truth. I do want to present both sides so that she can make up her own mind, but there has never been a candidate so untested, unprepared and unchecked by the media and without the temperance to be the leader of the free world.
I don't know if Mallory believes that I don't hate him, but it's a work in progress to live into my truth. I will work on my messaging. I will try to bring the passion down a notch or two.
I will work on being more even keeled because that is where I want to be. More LOVE. Less fear.
Namaste.
Finding My Edge
There comes a point in time, when I have to shut the activities of life down. One week day morning not long ago, I had several activities on my schedule. And yet I couldn't stop crying. I was overwhelmed. The previous week, there had been emotionally laden issues for me going on in my house with more than one member. And we had a packed, busy weekend that did not stop. And I went and I did and then did more because it was a special celebration weekend for my youngest.
And then I couldn't stop crying. And that still scares me to feel fully that energy of pain that comes my way.
And yet I knew what the solutions were to the issues that were going on in the house. It would take work, but was nothing that could not be surmounted. But yet I cried and couldn't stop. And after really hard crying, mental, emotional and physical fatigue sets in.
And it hit me once again, I cannot go and go and go. I see other people who do and I think that I should match up to them. And then I shame myself. And I don't really know what their story is and it doesn't matter. I have to BE ME.
I know this about myself. I am an introvert. I am an introspective person. I like to think and write. And I have to sit still and be quiet for what I am most passionate about to come to me. My passion lies in stillness.
After the first wave of tears, it took me two hours to realize that I needed to cancel what was on my agenda that day. Why did it take me that long? (Beat myself up a little) This is a busy semester for my Middle School girls: after school activities, other extracurricular activities, school, and life. Trying not only to keep up but plan ahead. George's schedule is also busy most of the time. I myself signed up for too many studies this semester, but all of them are good for my soul in different ways with different groups of people, so I will do them as I can. I have to not show up sometimes. I have to take them day by day. I think badly of myself for not showing up when I said I would.
My yoga teacher talks about the edge in our practice. It's where you are in a pose and are stretching limbs to the point of tension. And you have to find that sweet spot, where it's tight and you are feeling the stretch but not too painful. You are not putting too much pain on your body.
I'm finding that edge in life as I truly find who my authentic Godly self is. It's a daily practice, to find that sweet spot, but to release a little when it's too painful. And know that it's okay to release and not to stay in pain when it's really not necessary at all. No one else but me, knows my sweet spot and I have to stand up for myself.
And then I couldn't stop crying. And that still scares me to feel fully that energy of pain that comes my way.
And yet I knew what the solutions were to the issues that were going on in the house. It would take work, but was nothing that could not be surmounted. But yet I cried and couldn't stop. And after really hard crying, mental, emotional and physical fatigue sets in.
And it hit me once again, I cannot go and go and go. I see other people who do and I think that I should match up to them. And then I shame myself. And I don't really know what their story is and it doesn't matter. I have to BE ME.
I know this about myself. I am an introvert. I am an introspective person. I like to think and write. And I have to sit still and be quiet for what I am most passionate about to come to me. My passion lies in stillness.
After the first wave of tears, it took me two hours to realize that I needed to cancel what was on my agenda that day. Why did it take me that long? (Beat myself up a little) This is a busy semester for my Middle School girls: after school activities, other extracurricular activities, school, and life. Trying not only to keep up but plan ahead. George's schedule is also busy most of the time. I myself signed up for too many studies this semester, but all of them are good for my soul in different ways with different groups of people, so I will do them as I can. I have to not show up sometimes. I have to take them day by day. I think badly of myself for not showing up when I said I would.
My yoga teacher talks about the edge in our practice. It's where you are in a pose and are stretching limbs to the point of tension. And you have to find that sweet spot, where it's tight and you are feeling the stretch but not too painful. You are not putting too much pain on your body.
I'm finding that edge in life as I truly find who my authentic Godly self is. It's a daily practice, to find that sweet spot, but to release a little when it's too painful. And know that it's okay to release and not to stay in pain when it's really not necessary at all. No one else but me, knows my sweet spot and I have to stand up for myself.
Monday, September 19, 2016
One Billion Percent Necessary (It's about Feelings, Middle School & Glennon Doyle Melton)
The last few years, I have been learning to feel my feelings. I hate writing that, because it sounds wussy. There must be some part of this magnificent work that I do, that I still don't think is worthy. But I know one billion percent it is worthy, it is everything. Sitting still and embracing what hurts the most, brings you to your core, and your core is God. (or with my fundamental baggage the words higher power is a score!) The people who may think this is wussy, won't be reading this anyway, so let me let that go. Feeling my feelings is the most difficult journey in my life to date. Whatever devastating occurs in one's life, how one thinks about it is how one will work through it and how one processes it. As a person, who repressed much, especially after postpartum depression, coming out of that is freakishly difficult. (Can you see how I think about it... {smile})
I don't repress anything anymore. I feel EVERY thing and some days it makes me want to run and hide or better yet, scream. And most days, it's the really ugly cry that is exhausting. It feels like the uncomfortableness will NEVER go away. Some days I'm pinging all over the place - the Presidential election doesn't help either. And some days, not at all and other days, the energy flows through within minutes. When I hear other people speak aloud of this concept, it rocks my world.
One of those speaking is Glennon Doyle Melton. I recently watched her on Super Soul Sunday. Her second book is "Love Warrior." I heard her story of bulimia by age ten, a mental hospital stay in high school, and her addictions. When a friend summarized her book in a sentence for me it really opened my eyes. She said Glennon was running from pain the entire time with her addictions. (This is not a new concept but I was ready to hear it in a different way) Not namby pamby feelings, but pain. Pain is something that people can wrap their heads around.
So, it's not feeling my feelings, it is feeling PAIN. It is the essence of living life. Life is incredibly difficult AND beautiful, all at the same time (Glennon calls it Brutiful. Brutal and Beautiful. Dang it, wish I would have coined that.) I've read so much about addictions and I see it everywhere now in compulsions both good and bad, in so many different ways. So much of our society runs from our feelings and that is running from pain. Glennon reports that she thought of herself as broken. She thought of herself as someone who could not handle pain. And so she had hid from it with addictions.
What caused her pain? In short, she said she is a sensitive human being: a deeply feeling person in a messy world. There are those of us who respond to energy differently. Oprah said she learned over the years of her talk show that families have children who are the sensitive ones: the child who absorbs the energy of the family, subconsciously, unconsciously differently from the rest of the family.
I am that one. It took a while for this aha to sink in. I thought other people felt things as deeply and as sensitively as I do. They don't. But there are plenty of people out there who do. I have to respect myself and this work because it is what is right for me. It is who I authentically am. Finding my authenticity is finding God beneath all those layers. It is finding the love and the light to take me through the difficult and the beautiful that life is composed of. And when you taste that expansiveness of love and light, you don't go back. Sitting through the pain, gets you to the light.
In my house, I have two young ladies. One just turned eleven and the other is about to turn fourteen. They are now both in middle school. Some of the most brutal years of high school. And we are feeling it. Really feeling it.
There was one week where both of them were having difficulty and there was much emotion in the house. I put my big girl mom panties on. I listened. I problem solved when necessary and kept my mouth closed when they wanted no advice. Their emotions and pain pinged me but I carried on. There were steps I needed to take, and I did. I wanted them to be heard. I want them to know they matter. I want to be their soft place to fall. (George does to, in his own manly, fatherly way) And after the turmoil of the week passed, I felt it. I had to have my own meltdown from listening and letting their pain pass through.
I am the sensitive one and that's okay. That is who I am. And I know the feelings won't kill me. I know at my core, there is love and light. And I know if I feel my own feelings as difficult as it is sometimes, I can show up for my loved ones who need to be heard.
This is my work. Feeling my feelings. It is not easy but one billion percent necessary.
Namaste.
I don't repress anything anymore. I feel EVERY thing and some days it makes me want to run and hide or better yet, scream. And most days, it's the really ugly cry that is exhausting. It feels like the uncomfortableness will NEVER go away. Some days I'm pinging all over the place - the Presidential election doesn't help either. And some days, not at all and other days, the energy flows through within minutes. When I hear other people speak aloud of this concept, it rocks my world.
One of those speaking is Glennon Doyle Melton. I recently watched her on Super Soul Sunday. Her second book is "Love Warrior." I heard her story of bulimia by age ten, a mental hospital stay in high school, and her addictions. When a friend summarized her book in a sentence for me it really opened my eyes. She said Glennon was running from pain the entire time with her addictions. (This is not a new concept but I was ready to hear it in a different way) Not namby pamby feelings, but pain. Pain is something that people can wrap their heads around.
So, it's not feeling my feelings, it is feeling PAIN. It is the essence of living life. Life is incredibly difficult AND beautiful, all at the same time (Glennon calls it Brutiful. Brutal and Beautiful. Dang it, wish I would have coined that.) I've read so much about addictions and I see it everywhere now in compulsions both good and bad, in so many different ways. So much of our society runs from our feelings and that is running from pain. Glennon reports that she thought of herself as broken. She thought of herself as someone who could not handle pain. And so she had hid from it with addictions.
What caused her pain? In short, she said she is a sensitive human being: a deeply feeling person in a messy world. There are those of us who respond to energy differently. Oprah said she learned over the years of her talk show that families have children who are the sensitive ones: the child who absorbs the energy of the family, subconsciously, unconsciously differently from the rest of the family.
I am that one. It took a while for this aha to sink in. I thought other people felt things as deeply and as sensitively as I do. They don't. But there are plenty of people out there who do. I have to respect myself and this work because it is what is right for me. It is who I authentically am. Finding my authenticity is finding God beneath all those layers. It is finding the love and the light to take me through the difficult and the beautiful that life is composed of. And when you taste that expansiveness of love and light, you don't go back. Sitting through the pain, gets you to the light.
In my house, I have two young ladies. One just turned eleven and the other is about to turn fourteen. They are now both in middle school. Some of the most brutal years of high school. And we are feeling it. Really feeling it.
There was one week where both of them were having difficulty and there was much emotion in the house. I put my big girl mom panties on. I listened. I problem solved when necessary and kept my mouth closed when they wanted no advice. Their emotions and pain pinged me but I carried on. There were steps I needed to take, and I did. I wanted them to be heard. I want them to know they matter. I want to be their soft place to fall. (George does to, in his own manly, fatherly way) And after the turmoil of the week passed, I felt it. I had to have my own meltdown from listening and letting their pain pass through.
I am the sensitive one and that's okay. That is who I am. And I know the feelings won't kill me. I know at my core, there is love and light. And I know if I feel my own feelings as difficult as it is sometimes, I can show up for my loved ones who need to be heard.
This is my work. Feeling my feelings. It is not easy but one billion percent necessary.
Namaste.
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Yellow Kitchen Gloves & A Mask (The Great Louisiana Flood of 2016)
I still feel a little nauseous at the thought of food this morning. And yet, I am in a cool, dry, safe air conditioned home and so very many in South Louisiana are not. The number of gallons of water that fell in one week in South Louisiana was 6,900,000,000,000. Tens of thousands of homes were flooded and need to be stripped before mold begins growing. Yesterday, I went for the first time to a flooded area and it will stay with me for quite a while. The devastation has ripped across South Louisiana and it is going to take quite some time to recover. Stress is palpable as is good will.
My older daughter and I had a National Charity League meeting which happened to be at our church yesterday morning. For the last week, everyday through my Facebook feed, I have seen the exquisite needs of so many people, from rescuing out of homes, to now the necessity of houses needed demo'ing. And it can be overwhelming to see the volume of need for the sensitive soul that I have come to understand that I am. I read that one focus of the many of my church this Saturday morning was on Hope Community United Methodist Church on Evangeline Street in north Baton Rouge. This seemed like a logical step for me as it was not far from where I would be. I wrote a blog a month ago about stepping out of my comfort zone helping with home repair after the shooting death of Alton Sterling in the northern part of the city and the hug that I received from the homeowner. I have wondered if North Baton Rouge is going to be left out during this recovery. Resources are just not the same.
I invited one of Riley's friends who was at the meeting to go with us. I'm not sure if she will ever go with me anywhere again! We made our way to the church on streets with the tell-tale large piles of flooded home contents along the way. We began to see a familiar face or two from our church, found our lead pastor who told us to find Tom Edd. We found him and learned he is one of the pastors and said we MUST have masks and gloves. Riley and I broke three masks between us because they were inexpensive and I felt guilty for that because it had been hard to find them. We got suited up and it was explained that much of what was going on now was heavy lifting but that a freezer and refrigerator needed cleaning out now before conditions worsened. We were in the daycare area of the church and our first task was to remove large blue mats used for napping and I knew the girls could handle that so I tackled the freezer.
The sight and smell of this area and the visual of the brown liquid (sewage mixed in?) and flying bugs of the freezer will stay with me for a long time. Bit by bit with small blue buckets, I removed the soggy contents of this overturned deep freeze and took them outside to "our dumpster." The trick was to get things in there without the brown liquid slinging on myself or others. After a while, two more friends from church appeared and we began to work in tandem. My yellow kitchen gloves were wet on the inside and out, and I didn't want to touch anything but what we were removing. The heat of an August summer day in Louisiana wasn't so terrible as we were mostly in the shade of the building but my nose and mouth inside the mask was hot. And after a while, I could feel my nose dripping. There was a feeling of not being able to breathe. I began to feel a little nauseated after removing all of the contents of the freezer and took a break. I pushed the mask up to feel like I could breathe, but then the stench overtook me and back in place it went. We began removing bins of heavy wet papers and balanced on chairs to get the contents of the bins into the tall dumpster. A few doors down, the girls were helping Mrs. Woods who ran the daycare to clean out an office. Every few minutes, I began to feel overwhelmed in the heat and the smell and knew that after an hour and a half, I could not stay much longer. Time stood still in this place of God. Every minute seemed like five. I also worried that my child would never go with me anywhere again when I asked. She has a terribly keen sense of smell that I knew was being overpowered as was I.
It was time to move on, and we tried to find a place to wash our hands and did. Mrs. Woods was in there with her two co-workers. It has taken me a long time to learn how to speak up when the occasion calls for it. I wanted to tell them what a great job they were doing and lift them up just a small bit in this time of devastation. This is what my heart saying but it doesn't come out of my mouth. I told the ladies that I was so sorry they were flooded. As I began to try to use my words to say what a good job they were doing, one by one they stopped what they were doing and walked across the room and hugged me. They hugged Riley and Cooper. We each said, "God Bless You." And we all carried on.
There seems to be a thing with me trying to "help" others and receiving hugs in the process.
Namaste.
If you want to support relief efforts, my home church is one of many leading the charge and any money you send will go 100% to recovery.
http://www.firstmethodistfloodrelief.org
My older daughter and I had a National Charity League meeting which happened to be at our church yesterday morning. For the last week, everyday through my Facebook feed, I have seen the exquisite needs of so many people, from rescuing out of homes, to now the necessity of houses needed demo'ing. And it can be overwhelming to see the volume of need for the sensitive soul that I have come to understand that I am. I read that one focus of the many of my church this Saturday morning was on Hope Community United Methodist Church on Evangeline Street in north Baton Rouge. This seemed like a logical step for me as it was not far from where I would be. I wrote a blog a month ago about stepping out of my comfort zone helping with home repair after the shooting death of Alton Sterling in the northern part of the city and the hug that I received from the homeowner. I have wondered if North Baton Rouge is going to be left out during this recovery. Resources are just not the same.I invited one of Riley's friends who was at the meeting to go with us. I'm not sure if she will ever go with me anywhere again! We made our way to the church on streets with the tell-tale large piles of flooded home contents along the way. We began to see a familiar face or two from our church, found our lead pastor who told us to find Tom Edd. We found him and learned he is one of the pastors and said we MUST have masks and gloves. Riley and I broke three masks between us because they were inexpensive and I felt guilty for that because it had been hard to find them. We got suited up and it was explained that much of what was going on now was heavy lifting but that a freezer and refrigerator needed cleaning out now before conditions worsened. We were in the daycare area of the church and our first task was to remove large blue mats used for napping and I knew the girls could handle that so I tackled the freezer.
It was time to move on, and we tried to find a place to wash our hands and did. Mrs. Woods was in there with her two co-workers. It has taken me a long time to learn how to speak up when the occasion calls for it. I wanted to tell them what a great job they were doing and lift them up just a small bit in this time of devastation. This is what my heart saying but it doesn't come out of my mouth. I told the ladies that I was so sorry they were flooded. As I began to try to use my words to say what a good job they were doing, one by one they stopped what they were doing and walked across the room and hugged me. They hugged Riley and Cooper. We each said, "God Bless You." And we all carried on.
There seems to be a thing with me trying to "help" others and receiving hugs in the process.
Namaste.
If you want to support relief efforts, my home church is one of many leading the charge and any money you send will go 100% to recovery.
http://www.firstmethodistfloodrelief.org
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