Just write they tell me....write

I have heard at least 100 times, you have a gift, write.  See writing in theory is great - publishing, blogging, emailing it even... those are dangerous.  You are putting it out there.  Out there for all to read, interpret, judge, criticise, empathize, make fun of or accept.  But you can't write for that.  You have to write for you. Because you want to, because you need to, because ...well, you can.

So, here I am.  Today truly a broken shell of myself.  I guess in essence, this is good.  It's time to look at all the shattered piece, sift through, find the corner pieces (you know that you ALWAYS find the corners, then the edges, then you work on the pesky middle) - and whenever possible, grab the final outcome, the map, the layout, the photo, so you can see what you are working towards.

I don't really know what my picture looks like.  I mean, I know it has my face, it appears to be me but it's less, and it's more.  Less bitter, less angry, less tired, less resentful... more peaceful, more joyful, more accepting, more tolerant, less judgemental, less hard on myself, less tears and more smiling, more happiness...more CONTENTMENT.

I have been robbed of portions of my life because I refuse to be happy where I am planted.  I CANNOT pass this down to my son.  I was reading today about Abraham and Isaac...they both tried to manipulate and maneuver God's will in their lives and MAKE things happen. Boy oh boy did they jack things up.  I read and related... and paused. What will it take. What will it take for me to be at peace.

Tonight was our second to last Re|Engage.  We have spent (almost) ever Wednesday with 6 couples trying to do this thing called life for the last 7 1/2 months.  I have grown, I have empathized, I have loved, I have been hurt, been angered and been enraged and my stuff (and theirs) but that's the purpose.  One group left... as I said to them tonight, I feel like someone just took away my puppy.

But tonight, Liz (our leader) so sweetly said to me that for now... for TODAY... I need to be happy where planted.  The moment she said it.. I realized that SHE was my Arlene here in Dallas... in that one tiny statement I saw the love in her eyes and she reminded me of one of the most trusted souls in my life. If Arlene told me to jump... I'm jumping.  Back to the story... see,, I'm a planner...and for a planner this is H-A-R-D because you see the day I moved to Dallas, I was ready to leave so I had a plan of action. I certainly had my entrance and now I knew my exit strategy. I was ready.  That was 2008 when I was ready to go...in case you didn't get the memo, it's 2011.  Not because I hate Dallas, in essence I don't.  There are a lot of great things here, one of those being Holt's family. But, when we moved here, we "agreed" that this wasn't home - this was where we came to help and then came to leave and this was never, ever where we would live, it just isn't us.  There are no mountains here, there's not crispy fall or chilly winter (just a touch of that please).  We want to travel the coast, play in the ocean and ride some rapids.  Holt wants to hike the AT (App. Trail) and sail the seas... I wan to hike and swim and travel and be in the same time zone as 90% of my world.  Like a little baby, I kick and scream - what about MY dreams, what about MY hopes, what about MY family.... why doesn't that count.  My Aunt got cancer and we didn't up and move to NY to help... I see my family once a year... my son will learn of them mainly from stories and pictures and emails. Is THAT fair?  I think not. But who in the world said THIS LIFE IS FAIR?  I mean seriously?  And, truthfully if we move.. we will see Holt's family once or twice a year - is THAT fair to him?  where is the middle ground, should it be about being fair or about what makes your heart sing?

I have pent up resentment for how "life" has played out for 4 years.  But partly, that is my fault.  I obviously have/had unrealistic expectations... and even if tomorrow my bank account was the agreed up on number so we could move... something could happen, life could happen.. and our plans would be destroyed. I would be destroyed.

Why does all of this have SO much power over me? I don't want to be the bitter old lady with 50 cats.  But I also don't want MY dreams to die.  Somehow, someway, God has to drop down his magic banner so I can get it.  So I can be fully present in today and accept life for what it is.  Part of my issue is I don't really feel like i have a say.  Not in my holidays, not in my work life, not in anything  - and that's not true for most but sometimes it FEELS that way.  I need to allow myself to make friends (and yes, I have a few great friends here - maybe 4 or 5 to be exact... they just aren't close in proximity - well one kind of is...) but in general - I don't have what I had in NY, in Charleston, in LA and sure as hey day not what I had in Chicago.  No matter how hard I try here... zilch.

But in saying all of that, I also can't sell myself short.  I am not going to live how anyone "thinks" I should, I can't allow myself to be manipulated or allow myself to feel "less than" because I have truly allowed myself to feel and have a standard for my life.  I won't settle.  But I need to accept. I won't back down on my choices when I know they are right, I won't apologize for gaurding my time with my son fiercly and I need to stop and no longer accept some of the blatent disrespect in my work life.  This 9 hours a day has had a horrible effect onmy self esteem, my self worth and my happines..

I guess I write all of this so that Tristan someday can see that inner turmoil is ok. It's real. It's ok to feel, it's GOOD to feel but Bubba,  you have to find a healthy way to get it out. Your Daddy and I are fighting for that.  We are fighting against the world telling us to shop, or drink, or fight, or cheat, of abuse... we are fighting FOR what God tells us... to reconcile, to forgive, to be thankful.  And. It's. Hard. Period.  But I have to believe it's worth it because if it's not - what was this all for?

Part of me thinks I should delete this...don't hit send. God forbid anyone actually get raw out loud. I mean, what will the neighbors think?  Screw the neighbors.  This is life, this is real... this is me.

Somehow, someway, I have to move on, and accept that for TODAY... I live in Dallas, I work at BBC, I have family crap to work through that may or may not ever resolve itself, I can't for the life of me find a "Ginger or a Steiner" here, Lord knows, there's no site of an Arlene (although Liz is super close!)...we are still trying to connect at church, trying to find a place to hike, trying to raise our son in a Christian environment.  And might I say... for those of you that don't get the whole "Jesus" thing - HOW DO YOU SURVIVE?

Anyway, I'm rambling... I'm good at that - if you haven't noticed I can ramble.  So as I sit here, I see myself as this big glass framed photo that was broken into piece at the dump. Broken.  But, I've found the pieces, now I'm just filtering out the trash. Then I have to find the corners, find the edges... keep my eye on the original "artwork" and piece.  Slowly, just piece it all back.  I know some of the pieces are shattered beyond repair, and that's ok.. God makes things better than what they started out as.

So for all of you that are just sitting there...wondering... what do I do, what do I say, how can I help?  Well, just hand me some glue... we've got some mendin' to do.  And I'm tough, I'll be ok, I truly believe time heals all wounds.

Nugget, you won't be perfect...but learn ... and be better than we are.  Mommy loves you and I'm doing my absolute best to raise you right.  And I won't apologize for that.  You are my one and only shot at this and I don't take that lightly!!!

I'm off to find me some perspective.  Nighty night Ya'll.