A Modern Day Emerson and Thoreau

My life seems to be evolving yet again before my very eyes. Remember when I said I wanted to get my degree and open a private therapy practice? The reason I've always considered it as a career choice is because I want to share with people my view of life. It's not that I think I have all the answers, but I do think I have a gift for helping people live in the moment.

That's my passion...experiencing each moment and milking it for all it's worth.

Last night I was talking with a friend about fishing. He was sharing some stories about being out in the water and said something about how I could write a book about these stories. I laughed because that's EXACTLY what I thought the first time I heard any of them. He tells them with such enthusiasm and passion that I know if I could capture it in words, the book would be a best seller.

I processed this while running this morning and thought about the common thread connecting all my book ideas. They are all about life experiences. As I explained to one of my dearest friends this morning, I really want to write about the experience of living...the real meat of life. He laughed and said, "So you want to be a modern day Emerson and Thoreau."

I've never told this to a soul before, but...yes...I've always imagined myself as a modern day Emerson and Thoreau. This is a beautiful marriage of my gift and passion, and I am SO excited to think that I may FINALLY make this a reality. I hope you join me on this journey and bear with me as I borrow ears to think through my ideas.

Welcome to "Life in Ahh". This is real life, experienced in the moment. I plan to write a book of fishing stories (as long as the storyteller cooperates), a collection of stories about the weirdos you meet at dance clubs, biographies of ordinary people, two sets of essay books about what you would tell your seventeen year old self, and several travel tomes.

Happy Fourth

I was asked tonight about the divorce and touched on the fact that it has been such a liberating experience for me. These pieces of myself that I'm recovering and using to piece together my life again are such an interesting array of brokenness. I didn't realize just how broken I was until the last few weeks, and certain moments make me more aware than others.

I spent the afternoon and evening with some friends I met at work a few years ago when I first moved to this area. It was comforting to have a place to go for today's holiday, and it was just SO MUCH FUN! As we sat outside watching others' and producing our own fireworks displays, I was suddenly aware of the absolute peace I felt in the moment. For once, I wasn't worried about what time I needed to leave or listening to the conversation to make sure it wasn't boring or irritating to my significant other. There was no pressure...just experiencing what was in front of me.

After years of sitting anxiously at public events, either out of fear that I would say the wrong thing or constantly being aware of my partner's boredom or irritation, tonight was such a delight. For once I was able to sit in the presence of other people and completely enjoy the moment for what it was. I laughed at the children (and the adults), ate some fabulous food, and participated in great conversation with people I respect.

This is one of the best parts of this process.

Simply Amazing

I went to a training today for work. I'm not always thrilled about attending these things, but I go because...well, I have to. Usually, I'm bored out of my mind and spend the day playing a silly word game a psychology professor once taught me or writing poetry. Despite the fact that I was sitting next to one of my favorite people in my work world, I started to work on a poem that's been in my head for well over a year.

I stood before the wind as she moved across the land

and she kissed me with the sweet touch of the breeze.

She asked me just to lay back and trust where she would go

and she'd carry me to find my deepest dreams.

That's as far as I got, and the first two lines were already done. Finding the will to write was an exciting moment for me. I think I'll finally be able to explore words again. and I'm processing so much about life that I really need that outlet.

One of the things I'm processing is a new awareness of myself and a new level of self-respect that I left behind more than a decade ago. I've never believed in chance. I fully believe that life is a series of decisions and consequences, and the meat of the matter is finding the courage to make the decisions AND face up to the consequences. This is certainly easier said than done, and I definitely have a messy path behind me dotted with poor decisions.

This mindset is also the reason why I don't believe in chance. I've been given a great gift lately from someone who may never know just exactly what they've done for me. Through I series of very interesting conversations, I've found some old beliefs and behaviors that I was missing. I see myself through a slightly new lens, and I can honestly say that I like what I see. This process has made me want to be a better person, and I'm actually following through with this...not because I think someone else wants me to do so, but because I want it.

Here it is. I am worth it. I am worth demanding respect from others. I am worth the ability to make decisons about who I want as part of my life and what behaviors I find acceptable. I am worth being treated as the extraordinary woman that I am. And NOTHING less is worth my time or my energy. I make the decisions.

And that is the most amazing gift anyone has given me.

More Dreams

I haven't been sleeping well for the last few...years. This is nothing new. I'm a chronically light sleeper who wakes up at the sound of a butterfly sneezing in Africa. Or the first crack of light emanating from my alarm clock in the darkness of 3 a.m. And I can't sleep when there is any light around.

I've been sleeping on a sofa bed for the last few days, and it is positioned directly under two large south-facing windows. The light begins seeping through around 6 a.m., and from then until whenever I finally officially wake, I attempt to sleep with my head wedged between two pillows.

During this time, I have some interesting dreams. This morning my dreams were all conversation-based, and each one carried the theme of "conversations you wish people could really have in this world."

Let's just say, in the not-so-perfect dream world, men were open, honest, and forthright about what they were thinking in relationships. I was bold and unreserved about what I really felt about some people and how they had affected me. Some moments were raw. Others beautiful.

I'm not sure why these types of conversations don't seem to ever happen in real life. I'd like to think they could and do when we're all open to ourselves, but I know it doesn't usually work that way. Why is that?

Think about it. How many books and blogs and seminars are dedicated to fostering "open communication"? Look through any dating website and you will see over and over again requests from people for "honest and open people who don't play games and say what they mean". How often have you screamed to the heavens, "why won't they just talk to me?" We all want this level of honesty, but very few of us ever seem to achieve it.

I did this morning for a few moments. I think I'll carry these around with me for a while.

Damn My Ample Bosom

The title of this post is one of my favorite lines from "Dharma & Greg". It's from the episode where Dharma tries to crawl under the door of a bathroom stall and can't because of her...well, ample bosom, as she says. I always think of this line when I try to go clothes shopping.

Shopping for clothes is usually not a fun process. I don't exactly have a body shape that fits anything trendy. If it fits in the bust or the hips, it's WAY too big in the waist. The arms are often too short or too tight for my taste. Most pants are too long for my legs. And dresses...well, dresses are almost impossible. The waist always seems to hang just below my hips.

And then there's the color problem. Most everything in my closet is black or navy blue, with a few fuschias thrown in for fun. I also don't wear patterns. At all.

I'm mentioning this because I went shopping today. I hoped to find some new shirts, but no such luck. Why is that clothing designers only seem to have two groups in mind when creating their lines? Unfortunately, I'm not shaped like a twelve-year-old boy, nor do I have blue hair.

Sigh.

I did, however, find an adorable baby blue t-shirt that will be perfect when I take it in a bit; a pair of Dockers capris (in their "curvy" line...HOORAY!); and a stunning black bubble dress that I cannot wait to wear. Now I just need a place that requires some dressing up.

The Lady or the Tiger?

Have you ever read the short story, The Lady or the Tiger? The language is rather archaic, but the premise of the story will haunt you for weeks. A man and princess are madly in love, but her father doesn't want them together. He treats the man as a criminal for loving his daughter and punishes him by placing him in an arena and forcing him to choose one of two doors.

Behind one door is a fierce tiger that will immediately eat him. A beautiful woman waits behind the other door, ready to marry him. The princess, of course, finds out what is behind each door, and she signals to her lover which door to choose. That's when the story ends, and you, as the reader, must decide whether she allowed her lover to live the rest of their lives with someone else or die.

I've always maintained that she watched him die that day. I find it hard to believe that someone who has experienced such passionate torrents of love could ever continue life knowing that the former beloved is still breathing and sharing a life with another person.

I was very aware yesterday of the conflicting emotions surrounding the dissolution of a relationship. I don't care who you are or how ready you were to part ways, there's a part of you that doesn't want to think that life continues for the other person...without you. That's the weirdest part of the process for me. And the most comforting.

Life goes on.

I survived yesterday with a smile stretched across my face and this nagging, hacking cough. I made it through some difficult negotiations, made some new friends, decided to take control of something in my life, and ended the day with the most delightful three hours I've ever spent in the company of another person.

I'm so glad no one chose the tiger for me.

Beautiful

I should be posting pictures of my recent trip to Siesta Key with Christy.

But I don't have them.

I should be showing off the pictures of canoeing down Rainbow River.

But I don't have them.

I may be finally accepting things as they come. And then again, maybe I'm still reeling in the stew of my irrational fears that brought me to the brink of a breakdown last week.

But life is good, and I like knowing that I can say that right now, especially since I had one of those days that could have easily run amok!

I woke up this morning thinking that I was going to a training this week. Once I drove the 45 miles to the training site, I found out that I didn't have to go. I was certainly angry about the waste of time, but I also very quickly realized that I had a very real answer to my recent prayers: time.

So I stopped by the gym on my way home, mowed most of the property, snuck in a nap, and managed to clean out a closet. I need this time to go through my home and remove the clutter that has clogged my soul. I need this time to slow down and reflect for what may be a difficult weekend.

I also had a delightful phone conversation tonight...one of many that I've had recently. I hung up with a smile on my face that had nothing to do with the slight beer buzz I had going on.

I've accepted the gifts given to me this week: conversation, laughter, time, a new understanding of myself, and the promise of some fun outings. I promise that I will share more very, very soon. And those pictures are coming.

Life is beautiful.