When One Door Closes, Another Door Opens

Sedona

It probably started the day before yesterday, knowing the time was getting down to the wire, preparing my son to be taken to the airport. I helped him by laundering his clothes. It’s a favorite mindless chore I do. Washing clothes, transferring them to the dryer, folding them while watching TV, putting everything away in it’s proper place. There’s not much to think about there.

He was sick all the way to the airport. He hates traveling and the thought of the ordeal ahead I think turned his stomach. By the time we pulled into the airport parking garage he was throwing up outside at the front of the car.

There was nothing I could do for him, except offer him my 7-up. I can help in small ways but I cannot take his anxiety away. We talked about it and he told me how he would cut the trip up into small segments. Find his flight. Get on the plane. Stop for a layover. Get on the next plane. I told him how smart he was to do that.

I asked him if he wanted me to go the ticket counter with him. He said that he did. Relieved that he’d let me spend as much of my last minutes with him as I could, I did not want to encroach on his abilities to find his way by himself if that’s what he wanted. I walked him as far as I could to the departing gate. My chest constricting as I felt like my heart was being ripped from the inside.

“Every time you go away, you take a piece of me with you.” Paul Young’s song kept swirling around my head. It’s just how I felt.

To offset what I knew I would face entering my empty home, I stopped at the grocery store. It gave me just enough time to not be alone, getting back from my drive to Phoenix in time to put away my purchases and then make it to my 3 p.m. Al-Anon meeting.

My ex-husband texted me, asking if I was alright. He knows. He goes through this too every time his children leave him and it was so considerate of him to remember me that I cried.

The topic of the Al-Anon meeting was on boundaries. It was a great meeting for me to attend, not only because I got to be in the presence of my friends, a group of people who embrace me as a part of this group, but because in listening to other’s share their experience I get to remember what boundaries mean. I live in the circle of my life and allow others to live in the circle of theirs. I shared about letting my son go. He has his life and I’m sure he was eager to get back to it.

When I got home I started the washer and dryer again. This time I broke down his bed and washed all the bedding. Bringing up boxes from the basement I packed the rest of his clothes that I will send to him. Christmas was good so he used up most of the room in his one suitcase. I boxed up all the extra bedding I have for the spare bedroom. I won’t need it when I move. Another family may enjoy all the moon and stars I’d used to decorate it. Besides, it’s time for a change.

I am keeping one small 4x4 inch picture that will remind me when my children where small and they lived within my world. Now they reach for their own moon and stars, they navigate their own worlds, and within my own boundaries I let them.

Today I woke up feeling much better, like everything is just the way it is suppose to be. I am alright as I course my path through all of life’s changes. The day before yesterday Grand Canyon Guy (see story here) called me, as he does from time to time, but this time the phone call was different.

You may remember we had sort-of-a-thing once. I met him in an Al-Anon meeting a couple of years ago when he used to winter here from his home in Iowa. We spent the entire season together, showing him places he‘d never seen, taking many pictures together. I really like him, I mean, I like who he is. He’s always been a good friend.

I think he asked me to move to Iowa, or at least he offered me a place to live there. I think in previous conversations he had hinted at this by mentioning the number of casinos in his area, but I wasn’t listening. I don’t know if I’m listening now, but I’m willing to consider…

When one door closes, another door opens.

I turned the conversation in this direction: I asked him when he would be back for a visit again. Perhaps, he said, he would consider a trip soon. “I think I’ll find a place in Sedona this time since we liked it there so much before.” 




We did spend a lot of time taking pictures in Sedona.

Every day matters

After The Holidays Blues

It’s mostly cloudy over the little city that I live in today. Such is the way I awoke this morning. I can’t readily describe to you the feelings I am feelings as they are a mixture of something old and something new.

Old are the familiar feelings of loss and grief as I’m considering the text message I received from my son’s father asking what time the boy is going to arrive back in Wisconsin on Wednesday. I have so enjoyed his being here.

Familiar too are the feelings of loss and grief as I finish boxing up the basement. Yes, there were many things to go through which brought back memories of those times when I wore and lost that one earring. I could not throw it away incase I found the other. I let it go now. Years later, there is no hope of finding it.

All of the junk that I needed to let go of was promptly thrown into the dumpster. More boxes are packed into the back of my car to be taken for donation. Still there is one box, the years of accumulated Christmas ornaments, that seem to be causing me the most resistance. I don’t really understand why. I haven’t used them in years, nor have I wanted to.

There is fear today. Fear of being alone. Fear of trying something new. Fear that it won’t work out. Fear that something will dreadfully go wrong. Fear that I won’t be able to fix it. Fear for the future.

Yet, behind all these clouds that cover the view I know the blue sky still exists. What I’m feeling today are only feelings. Thank God I am human and alive, awake in a colorful emotional environment. I know that these sometimes dark and obscure clouds pass through my sky, they never stay, and never once has God deserted me.

Mixed in with fear and loss and grieving are also feelings of hope and encouragement. Things are changing. They always do. There are dreams on the horizon that I get to walk toward and I think these ideals are good. The more “things” that I let go of the freer I become, but it’s like giving birth. It hurts a little.

I’m past the days when I made Christmas for little children. My children are not little anymore. They move on into their own lives and I have to let them go. It’s like giving birth again, and it hurts a little.

As my holiday closes with the departure of my son, as the boxes get sealed shut and Happy New Year wishes fade to yesterday’s remembrances, I move into the reality of this new year. Not resting on my laurels, not holding on to what was, I see it’s a day where more work needs to get done so I move toward doing it.

I’m not forgetting to take care of myself today. It’s an important thing for me to remember. To me it means to be gentle with myself. I’m taking some time to watch clouds go by, and I’m aware of the mental lists I’m planning for the upcoming week's things to do, but realizing, more than anything: I can make the best of this day only.

Every day matters.

Mortar That Holds Us: or 7 Things

You never know what little bundle of encouragements artists carry around with them, what little pats on the back from what hands, what newspaper clipping, what word of hope from what teacher. I suppose that the so-called faith in ourselves is the foundation of our talent, but I am sure these encouragements are the mortar that hold it together. ~ Luciano Pavarotti

 

Hurt by others. Hurt by myself. Hurting others. My world was such a revolving swirl of hurt that there was nowhere else to run to except behind a gray cold wall to escape. I made a room of nothing. Nothing could get in. Nothing would get out. Nothing should ever touch me again.

I grew into self-doubt and loathing. Little by little, my heart became hardened and disconnected. It’s just not that way anymore. You helped me to see.

However you believe God created the world, I believe this: That when God created His greatest gift, He wondered where to hide it so that it would not be misused or abused. Would He place it at the top of the highest mountain or bury it at the bottom of the deepest sea? Could He entomb it deep within the core of the planet, or encase it in the thickest forest?

After much pondering He decided. The safest place where few would look would be inside the human being.

Ahhhh, you discovered the secret, didn’t you? You showed me where to look.

7 obscure facts about myself:

1) I won my first art award in the fourth grade, and I still carry that accomplishment in my heart as a sign of who I am destined to be.

2) When I was the age of 15 my sister, who shared a bedroom with me, woke up one night to find an angel dressed in a brilliant blue dress standing over my bed. This I consider to be the reason why I survived my disease and I acknowledge that we all are surrounded by angels.

3) At the age of 18 I named my daughter. When I was 20 years old doctors told me I would never conceive. Infertility runs in my family. My biological brothers never had their own children. Therefore I’ve never used birth control.

4) At the age of 30 and 33 I gave birth to a girl and a boy, both home birthed in their bedrooms with the assistance of a midwife. I endured the shortest labor ever, three and a half hours. I named my daughter the same name I desired for her when I was 18. In Hebrew her name means “Source of Joy”. These children I consider to be my greatest gift from God.

5) My favorite color is purple, blue purple, not red purple. Purple in an artist’s dictionary depicts the color of royalty, and signifies great self esteem, which I only wish I had. I’m also partial to dusty rose. I can never wear yellow because it makes me look I have hepatitis.

6) I had my first ear surgery when I was 10. I’ve had consecutive surgeries since then. I don’t hear very well out of my left ear, and have learned to compensate by reading lips. Don’t talk about me at a distance. I’ll know what you are saying.

7) I’ve had three cats in a row named Amos. I love that name for a cat but have since let that go.

Love is the treasure that we carry. You taught me that we get to have love by giving it away. In sharing it with other living beings we open up the lifeline that connects us to others, that links us to ourselves, that bonds us to God.

Let me love you until you can love yourself, you said. And you did.

Which is why I appreciate this gift from Syd, and am grateful for all the others who have shared this “award” too. It’s an award of love and I accept it from the depth of my heart, and pass it on to my new friend Jay at Jay’s Day That Was, my longer time friend Grace at Letting Go-Finding Hope Through Al-Anon, and to my interesting friend “Herself” at Bona Vacantia, The Musings of a Lurcher.

“He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him In!”
From the poem " Outwitted” ― Edwin Markham

Every day matters.

Personal Inventory

Thoughts can be a powerful tool to sway my actions one way or the other. Negative thoughts will bind my actions; physically, emotionally, and spiritually, so I endeavor to ask God to change those thoughts to the positive.

The overwhelming aspects of going through my basement, sorting through my belongings which I have not seen in years, would have, could have  caused me to stop in my tracks of procrastination, yet I did not let it.

I chose to look at this task differently.

First of all, this job did not have to be done all at once. Small attempts can lead to big accomplishments.

I did not have to dive into the basement by myself. My son is still here, and in an attempt to spend more time together I asked for his help. I’m grateful that he agreed, and what a great help he was to me.

Dividing what was down there into four piles; trash, donate, keep, and consider at another time, he helped me identify what should go where. He took out the trash. He helped me box up the donate.

In one of the boxes I found a long lost possession that I have been in search of for a very long time. I found an envelope containing vital paperwork, such as my original birth certificate, and all the documents from years of education. I was filled with such relief.

Encouraged by finding lost treasure, I’m ready to move on. We accomplished cleaning out half the basement yesterday. Today, together, my son and I will tackle the other half. I’m looking forward to finding out more about what is important to my life, and what can be given away. Many things, I’m sure, will be discarded.

Such an inventory can be cleansing in learning what I truly need in my life, and what can be let go. I have things in hiding that I’ve never used that might benefit someone else, and most of what I’ve been hording for so long can be discarded.

Going through my stuff is like going through my heart and soul. The more I discover the more I get to learn about myself. It’s pretty much like the moral inventory we take in clearing out the wreckage of our past and learning what we like about ourselves that we want to keep and nurture.

All those old magazines that I thought I would re-read someday, but never did: gone. All those size 9 clothes that I thought I would fit into again: gone. All those computer cords to connections that don’t even exist anymore: gone.

Family photo albums that I now want to scan into preservation onto a hard disk: priceless.

I'm the tallest on the right, 2nd Grade, the rest are my siblings.

Every day matters.

New View for 2012

“The most beautiful and most profound emotion we can experience is the sensation of the mystical.” 

~ Albert Einstein.

View from my new bedroom window.

I believe it’s true when they say: The universe has no limits.

I had no fear when I received word on New Years Eve that my hours at work would be cut drastically over the next couple of months. It’s rather expected as business slows down after the holidays. This week I’m scheduled three days and next week I'll work four. Good, I thought to myself.

My son is still visiting. I will have more time to spend with him.

While meditating a couple of days ago a remembrance came to me. My hairdresser, a good friend who owns a very large house on the top of hill, stated that she has an apartment downstairs that she would like to rent. She doesn’t advertise it but picks people she thinks would be a good candidate and asked if I was interested.

At the time I told her I was not, but when the thought returned to me I found it somewhat inviting. I had a very strong feeling to call her just to investigate.

The next day I went to look at her space available, and discuss with her more of the particulars. I called my sponsor and went over my plan. With my friend eager to have me, and her apartment quite impressive, I’ve made a decision to move.

I can see in so many ways how this is going to benefit my life. Financially I will be able to save a lot of money. Physically it is even closer to my work. Spiritually I will get to share a home with somebody that I actually like, who is in the program, and where I will not feel so isolated and alone as I do at some times.

The one draw back that I can see is climbing the single lane dirt road to the top of the hill in the snow. The drive is perched precariously with no guard rails but I do have, as I’ve mentioned many times, a four wheel drive vehicle.

So it looks like everything I need to make this move is in my favor.

Today I delivered my letter of intent to vacate my apartment to the current landlord.

There are more possibilities in the universe than one can ever imagine, and not becoming stuck with an idea or a concept sets my sights open to anything that can happen. I’m excited about this.

At one time I could not image my life without drugs and alcohol. I thought I would never be happy again when the day came that I had to leave them behind. Five years later my sobriety has worked out better than I have ever dreamed. Today I live in a whole new world with a view that far surpasses the four walls I was stuck within.

Happy New Year, my friends. I’m so grateful to share our sober lives together, our new way to live, and I look forward.

Every day matters.

Dream A Little Dream

Where there is no vision, the people perish. 

~ Proverbs 29:18

Drive into Skull Valley, Arizona

As the new year approaches I am thinking about goals for this coming year. Where do I want to go? What do I want that will make my life better?

Recently my dentist, of all people, has put me on a life track. I need medical and dental insurances. Health issues going on inside of my mouth is futuristically going to require me to look into costly and necessary procedures to save my teeth. Thankfully there is nothing I have to do today, but realistically I know that day is coming.

I have spent the beginning years of my recovery experimenting with possible paths. I’ve taken off from working in a casino and gone to school full time for a year. I’ve worked in a doctor’s office and then for the government doing social work. And now, as you know, I’ve come full circle to working in a casino again.

I don’t regret any of these new ideas I’ve followed with all the experiences I’ve been afforded in these endeavors. It may be what I’ve needed to get sober and stay clean. It’s been a journey of finding answers and asking questions, but today I feel the need to move closer to security.

I guess my goal this year is to settle down. I love living here, and would not mind it if God deems that I stay. My employment here is gratifying, with the income to sustain my life, and room for me grow and develop spiritually by being a little light in the corner, but it is a precarious position, unstable in that I am only scheduled when I am needed and those parameters can change at any minute.

This year my goal is to throw my resume into the wind to see if my dream of a secure position can be accomplished. I’m sure it will, but I need to start with the footwork.

My dream: to obtain a full time job with a company where I can grow. I would like to plant roots someplace, perhaps live in a small house, then in that stability find out what I really want to pursue as a passion. I have so many ideas on that.

Have you considered that it’s the feeling behind what you think you want? You may consider that having something externally like a new home will make you happy, but it’s really the internal feeling of peace, happiness, security, comfort, joy and love that you create when you visualize what you would like. ~ Elisabeth Blaikie, founder of Fragrant Heart Centered Meditations.

I do affirm that most of what I think I may find someplace else I already have. I don’t have to pack all my personal belongs in boxes for peace, or happiness, or comfort, or joy. In fact, in the process of moving on I may lose some of that temporarily. My fear is that I will, but I always like to remind my daughter in her life plan: “Short term pain, long term gratification.”

I don’t know what is going to happen next. It is a tough economy out there, and it feels like the obstacles might be insurmountable. Searching different web-sites for employment opportunities shows me that there are very few positions advertised, yet I am going to send my resume regardless.

My goal is to set a goal, make a plan, follow through one step at a time, dream, focus, and leave the outcome to my Higher Power.

I’ve applied online with a casino in Phoenix that was advertising for dealers. After visiting California and being around my family I’ve considered how nice it might be to return to that area. I’ve made a list of places there where I could apply. Initially I know I like living in the sunbelt and will pretty much keep my pursuits in the western regions, with places like New Mexico also in my mail out. I could go as far south as the east coast, or even end up in the Virgin Islands. Who knows?

Focusing on goals, whatever they may be, short term or long term, gives life energy and promotes more likely success. Through my intuition and ideas, God has probably been directing me toward this goal anyway.

Every day matters.

What You Think, You Become

Lights! (My favorite picture from this trip) Downtown Riverside, CA

I arrived back in Arizona last night, and spent the day reacquainting myself with loading and unloading the dishwasher and cycling clothes needing to be cleaned through the washer and dryer. This is my routine. This is my domain. This is where I live. It feels good to be home.

Kept busy on my trip, I was carted from this house to that restaurant, from my father to my brother to my nieces and nephews. Everywhere I went I met them in clusters. Most of the time it was very warm and welcoming. Sometimes it was tense. On occasion there were feelings of blissful ambivalence, which I cherished just to relax in merely being present. There were those moments too where “issues” wanted to be hashed out.

My sister was the easiest, but we have been working on our relationship for quite some time now. Little by little, one step at a time, I am winning her trust. She says she trust me more. This part of my trip was truly happy. My nieces and nephews, all of which share a history visiting my home from their early childhoods, relished the time we got to reunite and share again our stories--like the time their lizard escaped the cardboard shoebox in the backseat of my car as I was driving them home on the freeway. There were many laughs.

My sister’s oldest boy drew me a picture when he was five, and meant to call me “Auntie” on it but could only write “Anti”. That has rather stuck too. Now this boy is 31 with a wife and two young sons of his own.

Seeing my father met with a lot of resistance to the peaceful reunion I had envisioned. Throwing expectations out the window, I acquiesced to the conversation he initiated. Let’s resolve issues! Those words came from his mouth, but I wonder, do we ever find resolve or just repeat the same condemning accusations over and over again. Most of these injuries are thirty years old, but we want to pull the scabs off to see if we still bleed.

I don’t know how successful I was in wading through the landmines of what it used to be like, or if I brought any peace to anybody else, or myself, in how I acknowledged this topic, yet I knew enough to only call out my part. Today I know this: I had felt too guilty to come home before now. It’s not about what they did. It was all about my choices, and my perception, and how I felt about me that stood in my way.

My father gave me one direct request. Our third sibling, my other brother, had stopped speaking to all of us, well, except the oldest brother. In true alcoholic family fashion, calling upon me as the oldest child and designated alternate parent to this brood, the responsibility, said my father, was mine to fix.

I gave him the Al-Anon answer: “Let me think about that.”

I left there feeling like a sand storm had blown through my soul.

Yet there is good news and that‘s that the story isn‘t over. More will be revealed. Courageously I feel like I did all that I could do by showing up, being aware, speaking my truth, then letting it go to let God direct the outcome. “It wasn’t an easy childhood," I said to my dad, "But we took something useful from the experience that makes us better adults today.”

By the way, my father’s health was impressively improved considering that I learned before seeing him that he had surgery for throat cancer. Up and outside on his front porch to greet us, I was relieved to see his rosy color and the clarity in his eyes. He could not talk very well, but we muttered through all of that.

More details, I’m sure, will still come out in my writing to come. There is so much to process I’ve decided to put most of it on the back burner to let all the ingredients of this visit simmer for a while.

Today I went to my regular 3 p.m. Al-Anon meeting where we talked about prayer and meditation. Since I recently have taken on this group’s Public Information commitment, I stayed for the business meeting after to learn about the tasks expected of me with help on how to carry these out.

Back in my life, my house, my intentions of living the best life that I can, today I’m thinking about the guilt that has kept me locked away from others for so long. I’m making a decision to give the guilt up, let it go, not tie myself down with the past any more.

“By the mind one is bound, by the mind one is freed…He who asserts with strong conviction, ‘I am not bound, I am free,’ becomes free.” ~ Ramakrishma.

Seeing my family, the crux of where I harbored all these feelings, allowed me to see that my life is not connected to what they do, or who they appear to be, or who they may think that I am.

My life is my life. I’m happy for all the people who accept my invitation to share it, but I won’t be unhappy because of those who don’t.

Every day matters.