What Happens in Vegas...

     About six years ago, I got heat exhaustion.  I was dog training, helping another trainer judge her Canine Good Citizen class on a really hot June evening.  I forgot to drink water, the class was moving so fast, and I really hadn't eaten anything either.  At the end of class, after helping to clean up the class site, I went to join the others in the business office and that's when it happened.  Someone had cranked the air conditioner down into the sixties at least and, when my over extended body hit that cold air, my blood pressure dropped and I almost did, too. I remember grabbing on to one of the interns as the floor was rushing up to meet me.  It was sincerely terrifying. I shouldn't have done it, but I got in my car to drive home telling everyone I was fine.  My eyes were really sensitive to light as I tried to drive home against the flow of headlights coming from the other direction and I almost pulled into two hospitals on my way home.  I made it into my driveway and Eric came out with Kobi, our dog, to greet me.  I have never been so happy to see them in my life. I tried to eat, but there was no saliva in my mouth to help process the food. A few days later I finally did end up in the hospital after experiencing extreme vertigo.  My body quickly drank in two bags of IV fluid after the dehydration diagnoses was given.

     A month later my biological mother died of congestive heart failure...and my doctor gave me a prescription for twenty Xanax and said, "Use them wisely..."

     ...I still have them...they probably aren't any good anymore...

     My job even gave me a day off.  Since I was estranged from my mother, I indicated that that wasn't necessary, but my supervisor said, "Dana; you are going to eventually freak out. I don't want you here when that happens."  That was said with love and concern, really it was, but what she didn't realize was that the freak out process would be a little more inward and a little more slow growing.

     ...Looking back, maybe, with everything that had been going on, I should have taken that Xanax.  I am just so anti-drug.  I'm a "feeler." I don't want to do anything that keeps me from being who I am and feeling everything I am going through. I'm a creative person; for me it's part of the process. Although now I'm thinking the Xanax may have helped keep some things in perspective instead of developing full blown phobias.

     After my Mother's death, I wouldn't eat anything with fat in it.  I lost 30 pounds. I was so worried about my heart, but it manifested in such an odd way. I didn't increase my exercise, or anything at all like that.  I just stopped eating fat. Then because of the heat exhaustion I wouldn't go outside if the temperature was above 85 degrees.  If I had to, I'd break into hysterics. Often.

     So, here we are, six years later. The years have helped lessen the fears a bit.  I am still overly concerned about my heart and will start to experience an uncomfortable and quiet panic when outdoors for very long when the temperatures are over 85 degrees.  I'm better than I was though. There aren't as many hysterics...

     ....but there are panic attacks.  I've been prone to them since I was about 24 year sold or so.  I remember having one the day of a show and having to pull over because I couldn't drive.  They aren't that bad anymore, but they creep up slowly and can get a bit debilitating if I let them come in all the way.

     As you can imagine, I'm having a bit of an issue with my spine from the fall where I broke my wrist.  I've been dizzy, had migraines, etc, and some days, I don't want to move, much less, go on vacation...

     ...That being said, for me, Las Vegas is the happiest place on earth, forget Disney World! We had had the trip planned for months and hadn't been in years, so I didn't want to miss it due to the recent bone break. Or, you know, so I thought....

     I had a couple of rough "gravitational pull" moments on the trip out there but seemed to be doing better by the end of the first night. Any sickness I had experienced earlier in the day gave way to just plain exhaustion as we struggled to stay awake. Not really thinking, we had gotten tickets to see Ron White at 10:00, which was midnight in the "real world" as Eric started calling central standard time. We couldn't wait to collapse into bed after the show and I didn't give another thought to my wrist or my bad dizzy spells. The next morning we decided to walk the strip. It was unusually hot for April in Vegas with highs around 95. It was already in the low 80's by the time we went walking....and...um...getting really hot... I could feel myself get that certain "uncomfortableness" that rises up in me. I mean, I didn't even have any water on me. definitely wasn't prepared. Uncomfortableness usually gives way to feeling line a caged animal. A pacing of sorts goes on in my brain and I can't find any escape - oh, wait, what? You're hot, too? Okay, we'll go back to the hotel and check out the pool and a frozen drink....I was so relieved at that moment that Eric wanted go back.

     Still really hot outside, but hours later we had to walk over to The Venetian where Rock of Ages was playing. I had gotten us tickets; I was so excited! Always had wanted to see it and thought it was just a short walk across the street from where we were staying at The Mirage. Yeah, short walk...at 98 degrees...and I had been getting more dizzy as the day went on as well. Oh well; had to go! Couldn't take a cab across the street, right? Thought I would just put on my brave front....which didn't last long.

     We started off walking down the long sidewalk from The Mirage that would take us to the Strip then across the street to The Venetian. The sidewalk itself slopes down and I found on the trip out that downward slopes made me more dizzy than anything else. It was hot, I was feeling that familiar feeling of the ground rushing up to meet me and just when I said, "I can't do this!" I heard, "Dana! Just breathe!"

    I don't know whether it was the startle of Eric's voice or the breath, but I immediately calmed down and was able to take the rest of the walk across the street without incident.  In fact, I pretty much spent the rest of the evening without incident.  Any time I felt dizzy and that I might panic, I made myself stop and breathe. It sounds so simple, but it was something I have never been able to fully make myself do before.  You always hear about it right?  "Just take a deep breath..."  Never before had a realized how fully cleansing and stabilizing that could be and how desperately I needed to add it to my everyday life. 

    I've become much better physically over the last few weeks.  The dizziness is nearly gone, my wrist is healing, and, well, I've been outside a lot more.  They say what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.  I hope not...well, at least for this, because the lesson I learned there has translated well to my life back in the "real world..."  

   ....However...when I think about it...there is some video of me dancing that I wish Eric had left there...


Happy Fishing!

--Red



     

          

The Sound of Silence

     During this past Lenten season, I decided I would add meditation practices to my prayer life. This is not an easy task for someone who admittedly falls asleep while praying at night. I never get to the part where I can be quiet, clear my mind, and potentially hear God's voice. In fact, the only time I have been able to get any prayer in at all is at night because I'm so stressed and wound up during the day. I honestly believe that most times it's hard for me to just sit down, shut up, and just be at peace for five or ten minutes. Way too much going on for that!

     It happened once during the forty days. Once. One time I was able to stay awake, be still, and listen. This was momentous for me and I really wanted to try again. A couple of weeks ago, I was determined to do it again...

     ...and I did it! I was completely able to stay awake, tune everything out, and listen for God's voice.

     The funny thing was I didn't quite understand what I believe I was hearing in those moments. "Take care of your health; take care of yourself..." What? I mean, I was asking for guidance about work mostly when I prayed as of late. I have gotten really frustrated there and everything seems to make me immediately erupt into anger or tears or both, and I needed help....but health? Okay, I guess that kind of stress isn't good for your health, but how do I deal with the stress to help my health? I snuggled down into my comforter, deciding not to think about it anymore, and went to sleep.

     The next morning those words would become very, very, clear to me. While I was walking my dog, a neighbors dog had gotten out and started chasing us. Trying to get away I tripped and fell breaking my wrist. Thankfully, the dog was ultimately friendly, or this may have been a whole different post, but its hard to tell at 6:45 in the morning in the dark whether its just Lassie or its Cujo after you. I picked up Kobi's leash, who had gone to sniff the Japanese Boxwoods after also seeing the dog was no threat, and hurried us inside.

     I wasn't even thinking of my work issues as Eric, yanked out of his shower while having only washed his face, took me to the Emergency Room. My blood pressure was surprisingly spot on for the pain I was in and would continue to be the next several times it was taken over the next few days. Eric and I would laugh every time a cuff came out as if we should bet on the number like you would at a Vegas roulette table. At some point I did contact work letting them know what happened, but I was far from concerned about anything going on there. It was probably the least concerned I'd been about work in eight months. Why couldn't I have had this feeling of "separation" previously without breaking my wrist to do so?

     The next day I went to the Orthopedist. He took one look at my X-Rays and said, "They did tell you you were gonna have to have surgery, right?" Um...no...sneaky ER doctors...now I was terrified. I would have surgery in two days. I have NEVER had surgery. I have only heard horror stories about surgery. You know, the operating on the wrong side, waking up during the procedure, not even walking up at all...I was a mess...

     ...and I was still definitely not thinking of work...at all...except for logging in to put in for personal time off.

     Meanwhile Eric had been a total trooper through all of this. He has essentially been my left hand and the best example of keeping the wedding vow "in sickness" I have ever seen. You know, if I think about it, recently I would grieve for my time not spent at work each weekend, knowing I would just have to go back to the miserable situation in a few days in stead of being present in my mind and in the day with Eric. I found myself wishing I had lived more in the moment and desperately trying to explain to this wonderful man how much I loved him and wishing I had not been so self-absorbed. If I had just let the work issues go for two days a week...

     ...Just then I heard the scariest six words I've ever heard in my life... "We're taking you to the O.R. now." A big "crocodile" tear ran down my face.

     No one could have been happier to see Eric more than I was in recovery. If I was a dog, there would have been uncontrollable tail wagging. I was going home, with my husband, and two days of PTO! I could just relax. Heal. Decompress. That's what I thought at least....

     The day after my surgery, a few situations at work got so messed up, that I felt the need to work even though I was so tired and drained from surgery. I was going to work from home the next week, but it just couldn't wait. A customer was getting more and more upset by the minute, I always say, when there is a lack of training at a place of business, "what if I get hit by a bus?" This was the closest I've ever come to that particular scenario...

     ...If I've raised that question before, how do I keep ending up here? Things have to change. Is it me, though? Is it them? Is it both of us? Isn't this what I was praying about and meditating on when I heard, "Take care of your health; take care of yourself?"

     I sat outside on the back patio mid-afternoon yesterday. I heard that about ten minutes of sun a day was good for bruising as I have a good amount of it from the fall and from surgery. A gentle wind was blowing as I settled into my deck chair and watched the willow in the backyard sway back and forth. It was nearly hypnotic and I found myself relaxed, mind clear, and open to possibilities for the problems that have plagued me off and on through my working life. I allowed many thoughts, many whispers from God, none of them forced, to enter my consciousness.

     I have work to do, and while i am not completely responsible for the situations I find myself in, I am finding I have more latitude to control what I can control, and have the grace to accept what I cannot. The most important thing is, after trying so hard for forty days to do it, I have finally figured out, when I need, how to settle down, be still, and be wonderfully and openly receptive. I just need to remember to do it and often. No, wait, not often...every day....

     I don't know if they meant it this way, but an old song by Simon and Garfunkel kept coming to mind during this time:

"Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted
In my brain still remains
Within the sound of silence"

     I realized that by taking care of my health, I was learning to take care of myself. I have also learned to enjoy the sound of silence.


Happy Fishing!

--Red

PS - I feel that meditation is a valuable practice to gain clarity no matter what you believe on a religious/spiritual level. I do believe that's how I hear God's voice, at the same time, no matter who you are, if you don't sit down and clear your head once in awhile, you won't even hear your own true voice. So, I wanted to write a brief note to encourage everyone to spend some time in silence and reflection whenever you can. Ask yourself seriously how can you think clearly with so much noise all around you? Take some time to be still today!

(Inner) Peace Initiative

     My friend Mike posted this picture of StoneKracker, my former band for any newbies out there, the other day on Facebook:

     The picture was taken during pre-show rituals where we center ourselves and get ready to get out on stage and, well, "kill it."  What struck me was the look on my face.  See that?  That's utter and total peace.

    Utter and total peace is not at all what I had last Saturday night when Eric and I performed together, using the StoneKracker moniker, for the first time in ten years.  I felt a nervousness I don't think I've felt since the first time we played the SXSW Festival in Austin, TX in 2001.   For the first time I understood why.

    I'm not gonna lie, and I haven't here yet, but I used to drink...a lot!  It was the only way I could get on stage to be quite honest.  But, like anyone with any kind of alcoholic tendencies, there was some sort of underlying reason as to why I needed that "liquid courage."  The funny thing is that I rarely drank any other time. I don't even drink with meals.  I find the taste of beer or wine with food kind of gross for lack of a better term.  So, I'm guessing you would think, "Okay; you must not feel confident in your vocal abilities.  That's why you had to drink."  Sure, but why didn't I feel confident?  I always received high honors in competitions in high school.  I can't tell you all the choirs I participated in that I had to audition for...what is it.  Somewhere about 3:00 in the afternoon that Saturday, it came out...along with tears.

   "But I was never the best," I explained to my husband, "I always lost the solos.  There was this girl named..."

    I never thought or believed I was good enough.  I am fully aware that I am no Kelly Clarkson.  I come from the marriage of an opera singer to a person who was tone deaf.  I was never going to be Mariah Carey.  Somewhere in my heart I believed, because I was never going to be Beyonce', that I didn't have the right to be anything else.  Sure, my biological mother had something to do with this too, always telling me I'd never be good enough, so it was surprising that all the things I had lost singing along the way were what was bothering me.  I think the thing with my Mom was so fully reconciled that this was all that was left.

    So, as I stared at the picture Mike posted, I said to myself, "Where was that Saturday night?"  The answer is, in a bottle.  StoneKracker did help my esteem a lot, make no mistake.  We played actually three SXSW Festivals and on two Warped Tours and won accolade after accolade, but I guess it's not enough when you believe, deep down, you are a fraud.

     How do I get out of the bottle?  How do I find that peace naturally?  What about the other areas of my life that still make me nervous, or angry, or vengeful?  What do I do about those?

    There is this group I found online called The Peace Initiative.  The aim of the peace initiative "is to help young children in conflicted societies around the world learn to respect differences and change their behavior through media and school curricula developed through local in-country partnerships." Sometimes, I still feel like I am walking around with this young child soul deep inside my being that just doesn't understand what the realities really are about a situation.  That's how I feel when something I am not at peace with pops up.  It's like I can't see the truth of an event; only my immediate reaction to it.  Maybe there are "differences" I need to respect and accept that one is not necessarily better than the other.  Simply just different.  There is a certain peace to that isn't there? Besides, not everyone is looking to see Kelly Clarkson...

     There are so many more things I can apply this thinking to. Maybe it's time to start an "inner" peace initiative...
    

      ...I will respect that I am different than Kelly Clarkson... and that difference is totally and wholly me...and wonderful.


Happy Fishing!

--Red

    

  

Burnout and Brain Death

     One of Eric and my favorite show was Malcolm in the Middle.  There was this one episode where Reese, the older brother said he could just turn his brain off.  When Malcolm asked him to stop playing around he said, "No, watch!"  He then proceeds to have a blank stare, mouth open, like he's not registering anything.  That's how I've felt the last month.  Although, I'm not sure I was consciously doing it like Reese.

     I've stopped a lot of activities in my life in the effort to free my life up, know what I'm saying "yes" to, and be better able to say "no" to other things.  I think I may have done this too late because the combination of everything I had been involved with and the acquisition at work, which has been nothing short of frustrating. has left me literally with blank stare and mouth open.

     Here is an example of a night at my house:

     Eric:  "What do you want to do?'

     Me:   "I don't know."

     Eric: (A few minutes later) "So, what do you want to do?"

     Me:  "I really don't know.  Nothing.  I am perfectly fine doing nothing."

     I commence to sit there, staring at the TV, not watching anything in particular....

    ...And I am really, really, fine with that.

     It's a strange place to be in.  I thought maybe it was the feeling of being overwhelmed that I have experienced before, but am quickly starting to realize that it's something way more than that.  There are times that I literally don't want to/can't do anything.  This makes working really hard much less doing anything else easy.  I've been off for four days because we are having some work done to our house.  This is the first time I've felt like doing anything. I knew I needed to write.  I haven't written in a few weeks.  I really, really, just didn't want to do it, much less have any creative thought to be able to put fingers to keyboard.  I've been numb.  Nothing. No thought. I had shut off my brain.

     Dealing with the residual of years of business has got me thinking about how I got here.  Do you know I haven't had an actual vacation, where you get on a plane, go somewhere fun, and come back mind clear in three years?  Three years!  I mean sure, we have reasons like I got a new job, then Eric got a new job, we chose to have work done to the house, trying to reduce debt, etc, etc, but this could be some of the issue.  Never underestimate the importance of a vacation.  I remember one of my friends saying, "Debt reduction be damned! We're going on vacation!"  I need to keep that in my head.  I need to be able to pay for it, but I also need to remember to go.  Every year. No matter what.

     Then there is the whole thing about knowing what you are saying "yes" to so you know what to say "no" to.  I'm getting really good at this lately and it will really help me in the future, but I seriously waiting too long to develop that skill.  I waited way too long to accept that some things I was doing had run their course and give them up.  I did not know myself well enough to know that these were things that were filling the space of the things I didn't recognize that I really wanted to do with my life.  It's really hard giving up those things, especially when there are other people involved who may have hurt feelings. I've been a people pleaser all my life, mostly because nothing was ever good enough for my parents, long story short, and I am surprised how much of that has carried into adulthood.  Learning to do what's best for me, and being okay with that has been difficult. 

     I did come up with a phrase I say over and over again in my head when having to drop something from my life that involves others.  "If they get upset/mad. don't understand because you said, 'no,' then they really weren't your friends to begin with."  Isn't that what we are all afraid of?  Someone won't like us?  Why do we want people who don't like us for who we are as friends?  It's a weird societal issue and I don't think I'm the only one who has suffered from it. I don't know what it is.  Maybe I didn't like myself enough to think others would like me if I didn't "wear the pork chop around my neck to get the dog to like me."  I also think that way of thinking for me is over.  It just happened too late.

    So for now, more resting, no pushing myself, and building my endurance back up.  It may take awhile, but I'm going to give my self that time.  Even going to slow down and methodically perform my tasks at work.  I'm only doing things in my life that nourish my soul right now, and am starting out slow with those as well.  Sure, I'm "busy" with those kind of things until the end of April, but am looking forward to some enriching and inspiring experiences.  I just need to give myself that permission to rest when I need it.  Just float along basically....and stare at the TV...

     ...Oh yeah, almost forgot...Eric and I planned a vacation!  Vegas here I come! Debt reduction be damned...

      Happy Fishing!


--Red

   
    
    

Airplanes, and Elevators, and Migraines, Oh My!

     When we got out second dog, Kobi, our first dog, Dali, used him as somewhat of a coping mechanism.  She was terrified of most situations outside of the home and even had a hard time letting anyone touch her except for Eric and me.  One of the trainers at the kennel we would take them to when we would go out of town would always say, "You need to send Dali her by herself..." As a dog trainer I knew that was because they wanted to teach Dali to cope on her own.

     Seems she wasn't the only one that needed help in that area.

     I would never typically describe Eric and My's relationship as "co-dependant," but I have to say, and I'm not proud of this, is that for years I have used him as a coping mechanism just like Dali used Kobi.  Anything I feared I did with him and would certainly never do without him.  That option came to a screeching halt last week.  I had to travel to California on business.  Accountants don't travel as a rule unless you are an auditor, then that's a whole different enchilada, but typically your scope is right there in your cube.  I wasn't an accountant anymore, though, I'm now in Sales.  Salespeople travel....and Eric can't go with me.

     You are probably aware from my series last year on fear that there are some key things I'm afraid of, you know, besides sharks.   You may have gathered that I am afraid of flying and elevators, but what you may not have gathered is that I'm afraid of getting sick, particular having the kind of migraine that can send you to the hospital like I did a year and a half ago without Eric being there.  Doing this was completely not going to be easy at all and, I'll be honest, I did a lot of private crying and praying because I was having such a hard time with it all.  I shut down sometimes like I imagine Dali would have if we ever had sent her to the kennel alone all those years.

     Then the day came.  I had to go.  I kissed my husband and dog goodbye and cried halfway to the airport.  I was mad that other people my age didn't have these issues.  In my mind I was marching to my certain death, but no one else seemed to feel that way.  That or they were really good at hiding it.  I couldn't be the only one afraid of flying, could I?  I actually scheduled three of my co-workers, who were also going out there, on the same flight.  I couldn't be a blubbering mess in front of my co-workers.  I'll admit it; potential shame is an awesome fear killer.  It helps as well these people were funny and jokers, and faked screamed and shook my seat as we took off in order to make me laugh.

    Did I just use them to cope, too, like I do my husband?  I mean, Dali would be nice to anybody while staying at their house, then the minute Eric and I would be in the picture, she would turn around and nip them.  True story.  She was survivor.  Only problem was she didn't understand that she didn't need to do that.  She was going to be taken care of and not ever hurt by the person who's house she was staying at.  The only people she ever trusted completely not to hurt her were Eric and myself.  That fear was so ingrained in her very being, she just couldn't see past it...

   ...Oh my God...once again...I was the Bulldog.

   So, honestly, here is what I did before I was even seated, waiting to take off with my co-workers.  When I say this, know I don't care of what faith you are, or aren't, but it helps to have some kind of belief system, even if it's a tremendous faith in yourself, to get beyond a fear this deep.  For me, I prayed until I understood and felt that God was with me and I would be fine.  That took a tremendous amount of praying until I really felt His presence in my gut as if no one could hurt me.  Not this time.  Not this trip.  I don't think I could have gotten to that place if I didn't take the time to be with the issue, process it, roll it over in my mind, then really give it to someone higher than myself.  I wrestled with it for days before I left and somewhere in the airport, before I got on that plane, I made a peace with it.  I declared it done.  Over with.  I made a serious "leap of faith."

     I just knew I was going to be okay.  I weathered take-offs, turbulence, hotel elevators (all alone by myself I might add), and didn't get a single migraine.  I not only made it home okay, but I had a great time out in California.  I'll tell you what though, I hugged Kobi when I got home like I never had before.  I think I was trying to tell him I was sorry for everything with Dali.  The stress it must have been on him to take care of such a fearful companion...

     .....Go on, "Bubba," and relax.  Yours and "Daddy's" work are done.

Happy Fishing!

--Red

    

    

Apples and Trees

     So, as I've mentioned, I'm trying to take time for myself and offload some of the various activities that keep me way busier than I need to be.  Things are going swimmingly (pardon the pun) well.  I'm the happiest I've been in awhile.  Still a few things that need, let's call it, "fixing," but I am dealing with them better and better everyday.  I am more refreshed and more up to "starfish grabbing" than I've been in awhile.  There is one thing though that I can't completely seem to get away from, and try as I may, it keeps coming back over and over again... 

      ...This thing of which I speak is genetics.

      Okay so maybe not totally genetics.  I don't want to get into the nature vs. nurture argument here, but I can't seem to put my family's past behind me. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time you know, or at least have been introduced to glimpses of the fact, that I didn't have the best of relationships with my biological mother.  So instead of a few more situational glimpses, I'm going to briefly detail what happened.

     Let me first say that I have forgiveness in my heart for my biological mother.  After spending time examining it, and getting bits and pieces of information from my father, I realized my mother couldn't help who she was.  I don't know if it was all "nature."  I don't know if it was all "nurture."  I would put my money on it that it was a combination of the two, but my mother abused me from the time I was twelve until I left home at age sixteen.  It was verbal abuse at first, but then became physical.  The stories I've told in this blog are all from before that age, but you could see where our relationship was headed.

     I have worked very hard to achieve some sort of "normalcy" to my life.  Anyone who was belittled constantly starts to believe their own unworthiness.  Any one beaten starts to wonder if they deserved it and isn't fit to have better in their lives.  It has taken great amounts of self-examination to function as well as I currently believe I do.  I am grateful that I have a wonderful marriage, in-laws who love me, a decent relationship with my Dad, and that I don't breakdown at the sign of difficulty or become riddled with anger like I used to.  I've cried alot.  I've had to face who I am honestly.  I have had to change my mindset habitually every day until positivity and love truly became part of my thought patterns.  I had to love myself, and my past, for better or worse.  I am fully reconciled with that part of my life...

     ...Now to the point...

     I have a favorite saying as of late.  "The apple didn't fall far from the tree."  See? Genetics...

     I have tried to roll down the hill and into the village below in my best attempt to get away from the tree, and become something greater, like an apple pie...mmmmmmm...apple pie....but I digress.  One of the other apples, however, is trying desperately to get me to be part of the bushel again.  Remember how I just said I was fully reconciled with that part of my life?  Maybe I'm just okay with the "tree...."

     ... I hadn't thought about the other apple...

     I was amazed at all the pain this person, uh, "apple" was able to resurrect in my life, but I really shouldn't have been surprised.  I started to see my biological mother in everything this person did.  Over the last year I have relived every single indiscretion taken out upon me as a teenager through watching this person's actions. Sometimes I would even be the recipient of private message insults and threats when to the rest of the world they would come off as a delightful, knowledgeable, and maybe even trustworthy.  Knowing how they behaved, I had tried for so many years to distance myself. Technology has made the world so small, and it's harder than just not answering phone calls any more.  I found myself going back to that bad place in my memories because of the distress that this person was trying to create for me, and even a few others around them.  Every part of the seed of this apple had come directly from the roots of the tree. Much like my biological mother, they just couldn't help themselves...

     ...and then I realized something...

     I am no longer that abused little girl.  I have forgiven the "tree."  I now have to forgive the "apple" because it was born of the "tree" and has never been able to see how to roll down the hill and into the village to become something greater (like the apple pie).  I want to say something most people don't realize about forgiveness.  They think that forgiveness means you have to forget and pretend like nothing ever happened.  Not true.  Forgiveness is for them, but ultimately, it's really for you.  It's an understanding of why that person did what they did so you can move on with your life and realize it wasn't because you were a bad person or you deserved it or any of the things that can hold you back from your life.  The forgiveness process includes, even though you understand why someone is doing what they are doing to you, never letting them have that option again...ever...

     There are some ways to escape technology and to keep others from harassing you. I think I'm figuring out how to do that while continuing with the more peaceful person I've become and life I have.  I've just rolled too far away from the tree to be put back in the bushel. 

     Where's the ice cream?  Say what you want, apple; you can't touch me.  I'm a pie now!

     Happy Fishing!

      --Red

P.S. - Some of you may wonder why I refer to my mother as my "biological mother."  I don't want her to be confused with the wonderful stepmother I had when I moved in with her and my Dad after leaving home at sixteen.  I have been known to call my stepmother my mother, so that's why the distinction.  I think having that stable home with her, my Dad, and my foster sister aided this "apple" to roll down the hill. For that I will forever be thankful and feel blessed.
 

 
    








      

"...Had just settled down for a long winter's nap..."

     There is this Christmas cartoon that I try to catch every year if I can find it on called "Twas the Night Before Christmas."  It's based on the the famous poem, of course, but the story involves a clock maker, Joshua Trundle, his family, and the family of mice, who incidentally can talk, that live in his house.  One of the mice children wrote a letter to Santa Claus that said that he was a fraud, Santa gets mad, and they all have to figure out how to make Santa happy again. Long story short they write Santa a song that is supposed to play though the town square clock at midnight, but they had problems making it work, so on Christmas Eve they give up hope and just go to bed...

     ...That's what I did this Christmas.

     After my last post, I realized I had some serious going overs and getting pasts to do. I had four full days, starting on December 22nd, to really think about an immensely hard 2012 through which I had, just like Joshua Trundle...and the mice, given up hope. The cartoon actually ends with Joshua reciting the "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" while Santa arrives because one of the mouse children fixes the clock and it plays the song and Santa is happy again. My husband Eric always loves the part when it says, "...had just settled down for a long winter's nap."

     Eric just really enjoys a good nap. I started to wonder when, on the weekends, I had stopped napping...

     I used to look at weekends as a time to relax, but somewhere over the last five years, I started looking at weekends as extra time to get a long list of "To-Dos" done. I had completely over scheduled my life and by the time I realized it, I was already too deep. It's taken the better part of the last six months to try and dig out of some of the responsibilities and over committing I've done.

     I have a theory about over scheduled people. They are so because they don't want down time. They don't want down time because that's when you have time to process the things that happen in your life. The only reason you don't want to process the things that happen in your life is they are just too painful. It's more than just a theory, I guess, because truly that was me. By the time I figured out I wanted to deal with everything I'd been avoiding, I couldn't find the down time to do just that. So somewhere around May, I started shedding activities.

     The problem I then had was while I was busy processing long time pains and issues, 2012 was doing its worse. I'm not going to say I had a totally bad year, because there were some truly awesome things and I came a long way as a person, but while still figuring out what had happened in my past, present day unpleasantness just kept coming. I almost feel as if the more sound person I had become was being tested and I honestly can't say that I didn't feel like waving the white flag in surrender...

     ...so I settled down for a long winter's nap. I'm not saying I spent the whole four days in bed, it was Christmas after all; there are lights to see and dinners to be had! I did, however, take as many opportunities as I needed to be alone. I took as many opportunities as I needed to think. As many as I needed to cry.

     I had a surprising burst of tears and emotion Christmas Eve. To be honest, I wanted to be done processing so badly that I kind of shut it off the night before, but I got hit unexpectedly by a situation that had been part of everything wrong over the last year, so I went off to take yet another "nap." I remember as I sat there, tears uncontrollably streaming, that I was also praying. I remember saying, "You have to show me something tonight. I need to see it." What I needed to see so badly was the hope I hadn't been feeling a whole lot of lately. I needed to see the Holy Spirit that can only be found within creation.

     Going to church on Christmas Eve has always been a part of my life since I was a small child. I always found it to be a special, full of light in the world, and peace for all people gathering. As you can guess, I wasn't really feeling it this year, but it was tradition, so I got myself ready. I used to be a door greeter before I taught classes at church, and found myself back in my "old job" this particular evening. So, I bet you're thinking, wow, here is the unhappiest person in the world on Christmas Eve, and now she's working the door? I know...yeah... I was thinking that too!

     There is something to be said for immersing yourself in humanity when you feel at your lowest. I had stripped it all away. I had allowed myself to feel the pain of the tremendous loss that has occurred in my life over the last seven months. In the end, I showered, got dressed, and limped spiritually into church searching for a Christmas miracle.  As it turned, I would also be the only person who volunteered to work the door.

     Not only did I learn how to say, "Merry Christmas" in probably an estimated seven different ways, but I received something completely priceless that night. I received "thank you" and other kindnesses from strangers. I received hugs from friends I hadn't seen in awhile as, well, I suppose we've all been stretched thin by every day life. The best thing I received though was seeing faces, sad and lacking the hope that should be shining in their eyes on a Christmas Eve night, brighten when I would ask how they were this evening or say, "Merry Christmas." It was hope. It was a small, but very significant glimmer of hope...

     ...Suddenly, I felt like I was shown what I asked for earlier that day.

     I have been so much more at peace after that night. I'm not completely done sorting everything out, but I am on the mend. One thing for sure, and maybe this is a sort of New Year's Resolution, is that every weekend, no matter what, I'm going to try to take a "nap..."

     ...a long winter's nap...oh yeah...I definitely see more of those in my future for this coming year...

'Twas the night before New Years, and all through this place
No more will be processed, no more need for space.
The problems of last year are still in my sight,
But I have new hope that will get me through nights.

I understand what's needed, I'll take more time to think.
I won't carry around hurts 'til my heart starts to sink.
So me in my snuggie, and iPad in lap,
Promise to settle down for many more "naps."

While grabbing the starfish, there will be ups and downs.
I'll share them here with you, we are all "ocean" bound!
So, here are my wishes, huge smile as I write.
"HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"

Happy Fishing!!

--Red