I Am Not Worthy

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.

The five stages of grief.  I move through them, circling, rewinding, progressing, repeating the first four steps so many times I lose count.  I feel as though I have moved on to acceptance.  I let my guard down a fraction of an inch to exhale, but grief is a sneaky bitch.  She reaches out an iron fist to squeeze my heart once again.  There are times that I can see the blow coming and can shield myself from the brunt of it.  But she has caught me in a moment of vulnerability and I am blind sided by the force with which it struck me.  My breath catches in my lungs, frozen in place, while tears well up in my eyes.  I don't even realize that they are streaming down my face until the collar of my shirt is soaked with them.  I feel a hand reach out to grasp mine and that is my undoing.  The breath that has been frozen releases in a sob as I bury my face in her neck.  Time stands still.  I feel nothing but the waves of grief washing over me.  As the pain subsides and the clock begins to move again, I am acutely aware of a voice whispering in my ear. I love you.  I am here.  Always.  I love you.  No matter what happens, I will always be here.  I love you.  I am here. I love you. I am here. I love you.  Her arms are around me and she is gently rocking my broken body back and forth, stroking my hair, soothing my soul. The abundant love that is so freely shared humbles me.  

Here tonight in this space I feel the love that passes all understanding.  I feel the grace of God in human form.  An angel that has stood in the divide and covered the gap. 

I am reminded again that the pain of what I have lost cannot begin to compare with the magnitude of what I have gained.  

I am not worthy. 

I am not worthy.

Becoming Real

“What is REAL?" asked the Velveteen Rabbit one day... "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When [someone] loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.

"Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand... once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.”

― Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real

Over the course of the last few years, I have been on quite a journey.  In the process, I have come to know myself, the real me, better than I could have ever imagined.  As I've traveled through this space, I have hesitated to tell my story because telling the story made it real.  As long as I didn't talk about it, even to myself, it wasn't real.  It was fear of the unknown, fear of other peoples judgement, fear of their ignorance that kept whispering, "No one wants to see this part of you.  They won't understand.  They will think you are ugly and it will never be the same again once you say it out loud."  However, there came a point where I couldn't breathe any longer because this secret was suffocating me.  I began to tell my story.  To own my truth.  To be transparent and vulnerable to those that I hold dearest to me. 

It was during this time that I picked up a copy of 'The Velveteen Rabbit' for my daughter.  It sat on her shelf for the longest time before we read it.  The night came that it was the choice book, and we began to read.  When I came to the section that I have quoted above, my heart stopped and the light bulb in my head switched on.  How could I have ever thought that being real was a bad thing?  When I started to truly love and accept myself, I became real and there is nothing about it that is ugly.  The bumps and bruises, the battle scars, they don't matter.  They mean I have fought for something and that is beautiful.  Tears streamed down my face as that realization dawned on me.  Sitting there in a tiny bed with a toddler on my lap, I had one of the most amazing revelations of my life.  I offered up a prayer of gratitude as I wept at all of the beautiful real life around me.  Sweet, chubby fingers reached up to dry my face as I tried to explain that sometimes mommies cry when they are happy too.  

There will still be people that will not understand, who will think that this real is ugly.  But there are many more who love me so hard, that they have given me the courage to be real.  Those who don't see anything but the beauty in becoming real.  

To those who saw the beauty before I did, I am, and always will be, eternally grateful.

The Ending

"Great is the art of the beginning, but greater is the art of ending."

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I have been thinking about this a lot lately, the ending of things.  Whether it's a relationship, a friendship, a job, or any other ending, we tend to handle it badly.  Even though change is truly the only constant in life, so it's inevitable that things are going to change.  If you're anything like me, you play what-if's for the next 6 months, and wonder why, what, how things could have gone differently.  I used to make myself crazy this way!  It has not been until very recently that I really got some clarity on the subject.

Instead of dreading change and fearing the ending of things, we should treat them as necessary steps to the new beginning of something else.  With grapevines, there is a pruning that must take place in order for the vines to produce grapes.  Every season, cuts are made so the rest of the vine may flourish and bear fruit.  In life, I am hesitant to make these cuts, to sever the ties.  It is extremely painful and difficult.  However, I am learning that evaluating where cuts need to be made is essential to living a full and rich life that will be fruitful.  Bad habits that need to be cut, a toxic work environment needs to be cut, someone with constant negativity needs to be cut.  Not necessarily cut out of your life, especially if it is a person, but putting the boundary there that allows you to step back from the influence it has on your life and your ability to move forward.

By being aware of what feeds us and being willing to end the things that are holding us back, we are truly able to begin to grow and move on to the bright new beginning that is just waiting for us to step into it.

The Road Not Taken

One of my favorite poems has always been "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost.  The whole thing is truly beautiful but it is the end that gets me every time.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

I did not take the road less traveled.  I took the path that society was nudging me towards and tried to be joyful about the scenery.  For many years I lied about being happy, to everyone, and on many days, to myself.  I ignored the little voice in the pit of my soul telling me that I was on the wrong path.  And I continued on that road until the day that I physically couldn't make myself do it any longer.

I took a deep breath, and a sharp turn to the right.  It was terrifying.  The darkness that lay between the road behind me and the road I hoped was ahead.  I prayed for just a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel to give me peace that I was headed in the right direction still.  It was during that time that I came across this picture:

I sent it on to my best friend who promptly responded back that she would just go out and catch me some fireflies to light the way.  It was exactly what I needed to keep pressing on.  Two and a half years later I have made it through the woods, and found my new path.  It has not been easy but it has been so, so worth it.  I have made mistakes and followed detours, but these unexpected turns have left me to the life that was waiting around the bend. 

And life is good. 

Introductions

Let me begin by saying hello to any of the poor souls who have unwittingly stumbled across this blog.  I have tried this whole blogging thing before on more than one occasion.  Each time I began with enthusiasm determined to write consistently and not let anything get in my way.  So off I went and I wrote about all the slivers of my life that I could share.  The things that weren't so pretty or made other people uncomfortable got stuffed away.  In fact, I remember once writing that I wished no one knew that it was "me" who was writing so that I could write whatever I want.  Which sparked an idea...I could create an anonymous blog that no one knew was me and use that as a safe space.  But I found that was just as unsatisfying as the first venture.  Finally, out of sheer frustration, I threw my hands up in the air and just quit writing altogether.  

Clearly, the actions of a mature and reasonable adult.

Ahem.

It was during this non-writing time that my therapist called me a "discouraged perfectionist".  I scoffed slightly at anything with the word perfectionist in it; anyone who is reading this and has seen my home can attest!  But she went on to explain that the discouraged perfectionist is someone with all of the same type-A tendencies of the perfectionist..are all or nothing people who have realized that if they can't make it perfect they don't want to do it at all.  So we choose nothing.  People, this is me right down to the core.  She then went on to say that no one in my life, (my daughter, my friends, my boss, my family) needs me to be perfect. They need me to be good enough, and I am.

What a revelation that was!  It still pains me to let go of my perfectionist thoughts, but I am learning to forgive myself for my many imperfections.  Along with this, came the itching desire to start writing again...this time for me...the whole and real me.  So here I am, beginning fresh, with only the promise of transparency.

Welcome and thank you for joining me.  It's so nice to meet you.  :)