I had a nice visit with my neighbor yesterday. We talked for quite awhile until he looked down and saw the goosebumps on my arms. He commented that we should move out of the shadows......and so we stepped a few feet into the sunshine and continued our visit. I cut it short to return to work, but of course.....what happened?
It made me think, because that's what I do.
I thought about all of the shadows in my life. I grew up with two brothers. One of them was an athlete and the other was a tragic fuck up. Either way, all the way through high school I was in a shadow. Teachers expected me to be one of the other. Well, I'm far from an athlete so I lived under the pressure to NOT be a fuck up. The shadow was always there....I couldn't disappoint my parents, I couldn't disappoint my teachers, I felt the pressure to live up to everyone's expectations....but my own. It wasn't until I went to college that I was able to step out of that shadow and start to find my passion and allow myself to occasionally be a fuck up.
As we grow older, we step into different shadows....I became a career oriented person, a wife, a mother...there was always some sort of shadow. I don't mean to imply that any of those things were bad, we all know the relief of the shade on a hot day. They were places of comfort, places were I knew what was expected of me and I strived to fill those expectations.
Eventually though, there comes that day.....the day you see the goosebumps and someone says, "Why don't we step out of the shadows?" And so, you move a few feet.....wow...at first the sun kind of makes you squint and it's a little uncomfortable, but after a bit you just feel the warmth and start to let the light shine on your OWN expectations.
There are shadows that I will always visit, shadows I find great comfort and solace in....but lately....most days, I'm liking stepping out a few feet into the sunshine.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The Balloon Story
When I was six or seven, we went to the annual "Lou Melendez City of Fun" carnival that they had every year on Pioneer Day in Provo. We rode the rides, ate cotton candy, played the games, waded in the weird gutter thing that runs through Provo (?).....and then of course, my Mom bought me a balloon. I remember it so distinctly. It was yellow and looked like it had been dipped in several different colors of paint, quite possibly the coolest helium balloon ever put on the planet....and it was mine.
My Mom tried to tie it to my wrist, but I was a big girl. That was for babies, I was quite old enough to hold on to a balloon, thank you very much. She relented and gave me the standard, "Don't come crying to me for another one if you let it go." I assured her that I had the whole hanging on thing dialed in and she need not worry.
I did very well all through the rest of the carnival and the long walk back to the car....but then things got a little complicated. I had to get into the car while holding the treasures of the day AND the balloon string. No way was I going to ask for help (some things never change).....as I was getting in to the car, the coolest balloon in the world made a break for freedom.
My reaction was a combination of horror and grief, followed by humiliation because I'd done exactly what my Mom said I'd do....let it go. Tears started to well up and I know my Mom saw it. I'm sure her first reaction was, "I told you so", but instead she knelt down beside me and pointed up to the sky...."Look at it! Look how beautiful it is!" She encouraged me to watch it float and we observed how the air currents would move it and change it's directions. We sat there next to the car until the balloon was out of sight. She picked me up and set me in the car....and then talked about how letting that balloon go was such a great idea because it just looked so pretty in the sky.
I don't know exactly why that popped into my head today, but I'm glad it did. As I thought about that day this morning, I've thought about how many times I've had to let the balloon go and how hard it is. How that initial moment when the balloon leaves your hand is filled with anxiety, with pain and with uncertainty....but then it's followed with that moment of relief, of beauty and knowing that your life is better because you let go.
My Mom tried to tie it to my wrist, but I was a big girl. That was for babies, I was quite old enough to hold on to a balloon, thank you very much. She relented and gave me the standard, "Don't come crying to me for another one if you let it go." I assured her that I had the whole hanging on thing dialed in and she need not worry.
I did very well all through the rest of the carnival and the long walk back to the car....but then things got a little complicated. I had to get into the car while holding the treasures of the day AND the balloon string. No way was I going to ask for help (some things never change).....as I was getting in to the car, the coolest balloon in the world made a break for freedom.
My reaction was a combination of horror and grief, followed by humiliation because I'd done exactly what my Mom said I'd do....let it go. Tears started to well up and I know my Mom saw it. I'm sure her first reaction was, "I told you so", but instead she knelt down beside me and pointed up to the sky...."Look at it! Look how beautiful it is!" She encouraged me to watch it float and we observed how the air currents would move it and change it's directions. We sat there next to the car until the balloon was out of sight. She picked me up and set me in the car....and then talked about how letting that balloon go was such a great idea because it just looked so pretty in the sky.
I don't know exactly why that popped into my head today, but I'm glad it did. As I thought about that day this morning, I've thought about how many times I've had to let the balloon go and how hard it is. How that initial moment when the balloon leaves your hand is filled with anxiety, with pain and with uncertainty....but then it's followed with that moment of relief, of beauty and knowing that your life is better because you let go.
Frustration.....what is it really?
I have a dear friend who is experiencing and expressing a lot of frustration today.
I feel bad for him, because he's not usually like that. He's my love and light friend.
As always, it made me think....because that's what I do. Frustration, we've all felt it. I feel it on a lesser level ever time the lawn mower won't start, every time I try to drive through in intersection by my house and it's blocked by construction....but those are just passing things. Sort of like gnats, you really can swat them away.
Sometimes though, there is that deeper frustration that things are just not right....things are out of alignment....things aren't happening. So, what is it? When I get very analytical about it, I find that my deepest times of frustration are my biggest times of expansion. The frustration comes because my inner self is ready, ready for all of it and my conscious self isn't allowing it. I'm blocking it for one reason or another.....ultimately, it usually comes down to fear. Fear of change, fear of not changing. Fear of staying where I am, fear of moving somewhere else (literally and figuratively).
I used to be afraid of the dark when I was little, but I couldn't sleep with the light on. I know...quite impractical. As always my Mom found a solution. She found the tiniest little light that plugged into the outlet. It didn't cast a shadow (that was the scary part from nightlights), it just glowed. It glowed enough to give me comfort, but not enough to cast long ominous shadows.
So now, that's the key to solving the frustration.....releasing the fear....sometimes it's as simple as saying, "I am not afraid, I know there are good things coming to me." It's finding that glow....focusing on it and allowing it to melt away the frustration.
The glow comes in so many forms, but it's always rooted in simple happiness. Finding that quiet spot, that well composed tune, that perfect twisty highway, that moment of quiet in your soul that simply glows on it's own.
So there you have it.....swat away the gnats....they're always going to be there, but in the grand scheme of things they're small and insignificant. For the real frustration, embrace the glow, release the fear.
I feel bad for him, because he's not usually like that. He's my love and light friend.
As always, it made me think....because that's what I do. Frustration, we've all felt it. I feel it on a lesser level ever time the lawn mower won't start, every time I try to drive through in intersection by my house and it's blocked by construction....but those are just passing things. Sort of like gnats, you really can swat them away.
Sometimes though, there is that deeper frustration that things are just not right....things are out of alignment....things aren't happening. So, what is it? When I get very analytical about it, I find that my deepest times of frustration are my biggest times of expansion. The frustration comes because my inner self is ready, ready for all of it and my conscious self isn't allowing it. I'm blocking it for one reason or another.....ultimately, it usually comes down to fear. Fear of change, fear of not changing. Fear of staying where I am, fear of moving somewhere else (literally and figuratively).
I used to be afraid of the dark when I was little, but I couldn't sleep with the light on. I know...quite impractical. As always my Mom found a solution. She found the tiniest little light that plugged into the outlet. It didn't cast a shadow (that was the scary part from nightlights), it just glowed. It glowed enough to give me comfort, but not enough to cast long ominous shadows.
So now, that's the key to solving the frustration.....releasing the fear....sometimes it's as simple as saying, "I am not afraid, I know there are good things coming to me." It's finding that glow....focusing on it and allowing it to melt away the frustration.
The glow comes in so many forms, but it's always rooted in simple happiness. Finding that quiet spot, that well composed tune, that perfect twisty highway, that moment of quiet in your soul that simply glows on it's own.
So there you have it.....swat away the gnats....they're always going to be there, but in the grand scheme of things they're small and insignificant. For the real frustration, embrace the glow, release the fear.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Be Careful Where You Fill Up
I woke up very early this morning, usually I HATE that. This morning though, I woke up and was thinking about Lake Powell. My family (my chosen family, not the ones I was given biologically) and I used to have a timeshare on a houseboat. Some of my very best memories are from those years.
The thought that impaled my mind this morning was one particular incident.
It was probably the first or second year we had the boat. She was a beauty, but a big beast and a little intimidating. We had proudly pulled her out of the dock and into the channel. We'd spent a few days and it was time to fuel her up for a journey to some magnificent canyon. Our skipper glided the boat (that may be a bit of an overstatement, but for the purposes of this discussion, it glided) into the dock to fuel. We tossed a rope to the dock hand and tied her off. We then told him, "We need to fill up." He didn't skip a beat and said, "Most people come here to empty, but it's your boat.....whatever." What we didn't realize is that we'd pulled into the sewer dock, not the fuel dock....pretty much an off load only kind of zone. He gave us the "You people are going to die" look and sent us on our way.
I wondered WHY that particular incident came to mind. I tend to be very analytical when it comes to things like that. I always think there is a message. I got up early and really gave it some thought.
It's all about WHAT YOU ASK FOR.
We wanted fuel.....but we just ASKED to fill 'er up....we could have had a boat full of SHIT. The dock hand recognized our request and was kind enough to correct us, but that's not always the case. There have been so many times in life that I have docked at the totally WRONG location and just allowed the dock hand to fill me up with whatever was there. I have NOT been specific in my requests, I have not spoken my truths clearly, I have not been clear in my intentions. I have allowed myself to be filled up with a lot of crap over the years.
The nice thing is, I can change that. There is a high likelihood that I will end up at the wrong dock again.....it happens. I know enough now to say, "I need fuel for my engines." At that point, the dock hand has NO other option than to say "YES" or "Gee, I'm sorry.....you can't get that here." Why thank you Mr. Dock Hand, I guess I best move on to a more appropriate dock.....
What a revelation at 0430 this morning. I would prefer to have revelations at more convenient hours, but we take them as they come.
So there you have it.....watch where you dock, be careful where you fill up, but most importantly.....ASK for what you need....the dock hand will listen.
The thought that impaled my mind this morning was one particular incident.
It was probably the first or second year we had the boat. She was a beauty, but a big beast and a little intimidating. We had proudly pulled her out of the dock and into the channel. We'd spent a few days and it was time to fuel her up for a journey to some magnificent canyon. Our skipper glided the boat (that may be a bit of an overstatement, but for the purposes of this discussion, it glided) into the dock to fuel. We tossed a rope to the dock hand and tied her off. We then told him, "We need to fill up." He didn't skip a beat and said, "Most people come here to empty, but it's your boat.....whatever." What we didn't realize is that we'd pulled into the sewer dock, not the fuel dock....pretty much an off load only kind of zone. He gave us the "You people are going to die" look and sent us on our way.
I wondered WHY that particular incident came to mind. I tend to be very analytical when it comes to things like that. I always think there is a message. I got up early and really gave it some thought.
It's all about WHAT YOU ASK FOR.
We wanted fuel.....but we just ASKED to fill 'er up....we could have had a boat full of SHIT. The dock hand recognized our request and was kind enough to correct us, but that's not always the case. There have been so many times in life that I have docked at the totally WRONG location and just allowed the dock hand to fill me up with whatever was there. I have NOT been specific in my requests, I have not spoken my truths clearly, I have not been clear in my intentions. I have allowed myself to be filled up with a lot of crap over the years.
The nice thing is, I can change that. There is a high likelihood that I will end up at the wrong dock again.....it happens. I know enough now to say, "I need fuel for my engines." At that point, the dock hand has NO other option than to say "YES" or "Gee, I'm sorry.....you can't get that here." Why thank you Mr. Dock Hand, I guess I best move on to a more appropriate dock.....
What a revelation at 0430 this morning. I would prefer to have revelations at more convenient hours, but we take them as they come.
So there you have it.....watch where you dock, be careful where you fill up, but most importantly.....ASK for what you need....the dock hand will listen.
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