Beauty today

I am feeling quiet and a bit on the fragile side today.

My body aches, the pain unrelenting and compounded by my exhaustion, my heart tender to the touch, my mind dulled by the realities of my physical self.

But I’m finding the beauty and good around me.

There’s fresh citrus in my favorite red bowl and the ticket stubs from the show I saw last night with Ana. My books stacked on the shelves, the pens and pencils next to my journals, my camera next to my lenses all patiently waiting for me and my home cool and comfortable, wrapping me in familiar embrace.

These are all pieces of the beauty around me, all tools for releasing the beauty within me, all the things that keep me centered and even alone, cared for.

My tender, sensitive heart is calmed, my sore, aching body is soothed, my muddled mind cleared and my soul finds peace.

And there is beauty today.

Beyond the clouds

Today was difficult.

This week has been difficult.

But tomorrow is Friday and there is blue sky beyond the clouds.

Blue sky and Margarita's with salt - heaven is on the way.

Happy Friday eve.

Wish

... always the wish that you may find patience enough in yourself to endure,

and simplicity enough to believe;

that you may acquire more and more confidence in that which is difficult,

and in your solitude among others.

~Rainer Maria Rilke~

Daily practice

The start of a daily practice ... a photo, a few words.

A photographic capture and the breathings of my heart.

Images through my lens, words from my soul.

Clarity my reward, peace my goal.

Belief my prize.

Believing

I received a card a couple of weeks ago from a dear friend telling me that she believed in me. It came at just the right moment and was exactly what I needed to hear as I was venturing into some new territory on my own and was very apprehensive about it all. The ultimate sentiment was that she had always believed in me and always would and most importantly that she believed in me NOW and knows that I can do whatever I put my mind to. It was what I needed to hear and it helped tremendously as I successfully accomplished a fairly routine matter all on my own.

I realize however that even though she believes in me, as do others in my life, I don’t believe in myself, at least not to the degree that I need to. It’s a hard thing to do. Virtually impossible at times and it never sticks – it flitter's away as quickly as it appears.

To believe in myself still feels wrong on a level so far down that it’s hard to even see. I know that I am tying it to “pride” and being proud was a sin and a terrible thing to be and to feel about oneself. I know where the “wrong” comes from and that I don’t even believe it any longer but I still “feel” it.

I’ve come a long way in turning things around and I am very proud of who I am and who I am becoming but when it comes down to believing in myself – wholeheartedly believing in me – I get all caught up in the negatives again. I think it comes down to actually doing something about being proud, actually feeling it, not just saying it. It’s easy for me to say I’m proud of who I am and to type the words here but to feel it is an entirely different thing.

So, I’m going to start believing in myself, not just “trying”, but actually doing it and feeling it. I’m going to start seeing the good things that I do that I can be proud of (like my photography) and really believe in my ability to do them and do them well. I’m going to believe in me and my Truth and my abilities and dreams.

And this could very well change my world.

Being lead

There are unknown forces within nature;

when we give ourselves wholly to her, without reserve, she leads them to us,

she shows us those forms which our watching eyes do not see,

which our intelligence does not understand or suspect.

~Auguste Rodin~

Learning ... slowly

"my building" and the Colorado Sky

It’s interesting to me how often words seem to escape me, how the concepts in my head seem to fly about like an un-tethered kite and I just can’t seem to grasp them firmly enough to find the words to adequately describe them. Feelings and emotion often complicate the issue with an unsettling wind blowing them about, making them far more intense than is necessary. It’s a frustrating place to be for a want-to-be writer but one I’m learning to work around.

I’ve determined that for me, finding the root of my thought – or grabbing the string attached the un-tethered kite is the first step. If I can find a word, just one word that helps me identify the thought in my head, I can slowly find more words to add to the string of thought.

When a feeling or emotion arises in the process, I need to figure out where it’s coming from. Is there a fear attached to this particular thought – as is usually the case with me – or just a random emotion or a gut sensation? Either way that part generally needs to be addressed before I can move forward on the rest of it. Once I’ve cleared the fog in relation to the emotion, I am able to clearly see “the word” and then those that follow all the way up to the now tethered kite of thought – it’s kind of cool how it works.

I’m learning, slowly – sometimes very slowly – that there are other ways to accomplish my goals, even if that goal is as simple as putting words to a thought. My normal “head against wall” routine just isn’t always the most effective and I think I’m finally seeing that.

But I’m not stubborn or anything!

Beauty

Life is full of amazing beauty.

Find the beauty in today.

Celebrate your life, celebrate your beauty.

Be real. Be beautiful. Be true.

Be you.

My Lifeline

Hapuna Beach

May, 2010

Our recent trip to Hawaii brought many back many memories – some good, some not-so-good – but the trip was wonderful. In the return to “real life” I find myself missing many of the simple pleasures that I took for granted so many years ago and realizing that I need to somehow find that bliss and meet those needs in the world around me now. One of those delights of the past came from a deep need to keep myself together as the life I had known was crumbling around me, it became a lifeline that I held tightly to.

When we lived in Hawaii, many moons ago, I worked in at a transitional housing facility in Kawaihae about an hour’s drive from my home up the mountain in Kealekekua. The facility was built on a spot of barren, wind-blown, lava strewn land – actually the land was still lava – infertile, desolate and inhospitable. The State’s decision to place the shelter there was based upon the monetary potential that location had which was basically $0. So we built a 21 unit transitional housing facility for homeless families on a patch of lava in one of the windiest, most uncomfortable locations on the island. The project thrived in spite of the conditions and continues to this day as a very successful program for many of Hawaii’s homeless families.

My drive to and from work took about an hour each way and ran along the Queen Kaahumanu Highway through miles and miles of lava fields. If you’ve ever watched the original Ironman Triathlon on TV, the highway upon which the bike and run portions of the race follow is the Queen K Highway. It’s not a particularly pleasant stretch of the island, interesting and beautiful in its own way but almost always hot, windy and sun scorched. My drive to and from work covered this tract of island.

Day after day, with the weight of the world on my shoulders and despair heavy in my heart, I would drive this road home in the extreme heat, being buffeted by the constant wind (which as stated in a previous post, I hate) contemplating the consequences of driving into one of the large outcrops of lava on the side of the road and ending the lifetime I was currently living. The battle was intense and the searing pain seemingly more than I could bear and one day when control over my emotions was all but lost, I turned off the road and found my way towards the blue of the ocean.

Several miles from the shelter towards Kona and home, sits one of the islands most beautiful white sand beaches, Hapuna. It is the only easily accessed natural white sand beach along the Kohala Coast, there are many man-made beaches created for the resorts that line the barren stretch of island but Hapuna is a natural beauty. On that day I chose to stop at Hapuna and it became a lifeline, and from that day forward I made it a priority to stop as often as I could manage. That beautiful beach became my respite, my place of peace. It was my refuge and the place where the burdens that were becoming far too heavy to bear were temporarily lifted and washed away with the surf, where my skin was kissed by the spray of the sea and my hair caressed by the gentle ocean breeze. Hapuna wrapped me in her arms and held me close, sharing her strength and keeping me alive.

My eyes were opened this past May when we visited Hapuna and the realization of the life that had passed since my darkest days became clear. I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude and love for the beach that had given me her strength and had held my lifeline so firmly in her beauty. Hapuna had blown hope into my heart without me even knowing it and had gifted me with a subconscious belief that I was not alone but being held closely in a natures embrace.

I miss “my” ocean and Hapuna quite often but especially in the heat of a Colorado summer. My body yearns to sit on the shore with my feet dug into the sand, far enough down to feel the cold and wet that the tides have previously left behind. I long to feel the spray from the waves as they crash onto the shore and hear them roar again and again. I miss being consumed by the world around me and my heart infused with the power and majesty of the beauty and nature that I in turn become part of.

Unfortunately in spite of growing up in Colorado, I was never encouraged to get outside and connect with the beautiful world around me that included the magnificent Rocky Mountains. In Hawaii, it was the natural choice and my needs at the time required a connection with something beyond myself – the ocean and Hapuna met that need. I love Colorado and the mountains are so majestic and powerful and once again I’m feeling the need to connect with the world around me but for different less painful reasons. I know that someday I will feel that connection with the nature that currently encircles me, but today, I long for the ocean and Hapuna and wish that it wasn’t so far away and that I could just stop by for a brief time on my way home, especially on those more difficult of days.

Extra Weight

Ono Kitty

"again, just because..."

I’ve put some weight on lately actually quite a bit of weight and I really don’t like it, nope, not one bit!

There are lots of reasons that a woman might add weight to her girth – age, lack of exercise, really crappy eating habits, icing – with or without cake, etc. and all of those I am certain have played a part no matter how small in my poundage accumulation. However, I have recently realized that the root of my issue lies on an entirely cerebral and emotional level and while changing all of the things that were previously noted – or just eliminating them – would certainly be of help, the real issue lies deep beneath the flubbery stuff and is part of that fortress around my heart.

My decent started from a wonderfully high peak, I had joined a gym in February of last year and I was in the best shape I had been since before children and that was a loooong time ago. I was toned and had definition in my arms and back, I was strong and could walk a 12 to 13 minute mile and walked a minimum of 3 miles every night after work. My body looked like one attached to a much younger woman and I loved it! I felt healthy and sexy and for the first time in my life the voices in my head about my body were fairly quiet. It was good … and then it wasn’t …

The bottom of the mountain is now, where I do not go to the gym nor do I walk 3 miles every night, in fact I just sit on my ass most of the time. I have lost all of the muscle tone that I was so proud of and all of the weight that used to be muscle is now comprised of fat, strictly fat which by the way continues to multiply at a fairly steady rate. I try to stay away from the scale and “the numbers” but I know that I have reclaimed a chunk of the 40lbs that I had lost three years ago and while I know that at that time I really was too skinny (that just sounds sacrilegious) the weight I have put back on is not good weight, as I said it is not muscle but fat – you know, the soft squishy stuff.

During discussions with my daughter over similar body issues we are dealing with, it hit me like a ton of blubber! Beyond the bad food and lack of constructive movement it was fear and even more so, protection at the root of my fat, and I knew exactly when it all began.

It was August of last year and I was hurt very deeply by words and actions of someone that I had considered for quite some time my best friend. All was made right verbally a month later but the damage had been done and the voices in my head had come back with a vengeance. Then in October, the second blow when my other good friend shut me out due to issues with her girlfriend - and again even though things were corrected later on, there was more hurt, more damage to my soul and more need to protect my heart.

That’s the kicker - I needed to protect my heart from further hurt and the hurts that cut the deepest were made by women that I had let into my life and had given full access to my soul. Women that I trusted and that I loved. Women that I thought loved me in the same way, but those were my expectations and I was wrong to place them on others but I did and I had to protect myself from further damage. So the fortress building began. At the time I just thought I was creating a wall around my heart - or actually rebuilding one that I had all but torn down, but I now see that I was also building a fortress with my body.

I do not like my body right now and I am ashamed of the way I’ve let myself go and horrified at the thought of showing my body to someone, especially someone that I might want to let into my life on a grander scale than just sex. But because of my self loathing I’ve closed up and am unwilling to open my arms let alone my heart to another. My fat protects me from being hurt, because in my mind not only do I not like my body but no one else possibly could either.

And it’s all bullshit!

I am not protecting myself I’m only continuing to reinforce the myths that I have been told and have told myself about my body. I must let go of the self condemnation and start the process of not using my body as a shield against possible pain or hurt. I will not be able to bring new people and friends into my life if all others see is the wall around me - not the physical “fat” one, because most people never see that regardless of what the nasty voices whisper in my ear - but the one that I subconsciously project because of my self hatred. And I will never fall in love again if I cannot love myself - imperfections and all - or genuinely open my self fully to another in both body and soul.

So, I’m starting to view my body in a different light. I’m trying to catch myself before I eat an entire bag of chocolate covered peanuts when I’m actually hungry for companionship. I’m trying to move more and get out instead of sitting alone feeling the emptiness of my apartment. I’m trying to speak kindness and love to myself - for myself - to counteract the negative voices in my head that tell me that I’m ugly, fat and unloveable.

None of this is easy but I’m trying and I’m seeing the truth - I’m seeing my truth - even the parts that I didn’t know were there. I’m seeing the ways that I deeply hurt myself and I’m not only acknowledging them but I’m finding ways to change and the love to end them.

Don't let go

Luke & Ashleigh ~ Kona, Hawaii

"just because..."

I’ve let some things go as of late that I shouldn’t have and I’m trying to pick those back up and put them back into place and into practice. This blog and my writing is one of them and the other is my photography.

I love writing and I revel in seeing the words on the page start to match the thoughts in my head and my heart. I struggle to start, almost every time, but once I do I generally continue until my internal editor has been satisfied. And photography gives me more satisfaction and joy than any other creative activity in my life.

But I’d lost my desire to put words to paper or to even pick my camera up, I’d hit the wall and the blocks were seemingly fixed and insurmountable. My standards were high, perfection a must, ease critical therefore they must not be good for me and I determined I must let them go and move on to something more appropriate and “easy”. So, I let go of the writing and the photography because they became difficult and hard to do. The words didn’t flow and the photos and my desire to take them dwindled to almost nothing. I needed to admit that I was not a writer and especially not a photographer and both mediums were actually bringing me down and not allowing me to grow into the “things” that would truly touch my soul.

But then, in reading Volume 1 of the “Inspired Eye” series by David duChemin – www.pixelatedimage.com – this little line in one of the first paragraphs hit me square between the eyes:

“Being creative is hard.”

I believed that if I was a “real writer” or a “real photographer” that creativity and inspiration would just flow naturally. That I would rarely hit blocks and when I did they’d quickly disappear once I acknowledged them. That my vision would be constantly filled with images to capture and ideas to communicate frame after frame. It would all come naturally – it would all be easy – it would just be there - waiting for me. But that’s not how it was so I stopped writing on the blog and my camera was set on the shelf to gather dust until something came up that I should take photos for. I’d write in my journal and take an occasional photo but I was not a writer or a photographer, it was just too hard to be.

I was wrong – not only do they add to my wellbeing, they are critical to my happiness. I must create, I must find ways to express myself that are original to me – not that I’m the only one that writes and takes photographs but when I do those things, they become a representation of who I am. They are original to me and even if the words are repeated or the photos dull, they are mine and part of my heart and more importantly part of the woman that I want to be.

So I’m back to the blog and back to the camera and slowly letting go of the need for perfection and fear of failure as those are the things that truly need to go. I’m far from an accomplished photographer and my writing skills are marginal at best, but that no longer matters. And whether the creativity and inspiration come with ease or not, I will NOT (thanks Ginnie) let go of the things that give me life, the things that feed my soul and consistently touch my heart.

I still miss her

My Ana-girl

So I now realize that letting go includes my letting go of Ana – it sucks, a lot – but I know that I must let go of her. She is a grown woman (well as grown as 22 almost 23 can be) and she has lived her life on her own for several years. But in her transition from Fort Collins to the big city of Denver, she stayed with me, she and her cat Ono that is, and I got very comfortable having them both underfoot. Granted, my tiny one bedroom apartment was far from ideal for two adults and a cat and it was time for her to go when she finally left, for many reasons, but I still miss her.

She has the most wonderful little apartment only 5 city blocks from me and she has a job and friends, some old and trying to make some new. She is making herself a beautiful home and I know that it will be the haven that she wants. She is creating her own life and she really has no need for me on a day-to-day basis but I still miss her.

I’ve stopped calling or texting every day – freaking hard! – and I’m doing my best to not worry when I don’t hear back from her. She is an amazingly strong young woman with gifts beyond description and she is finding her way back to them but there are things that I know she is struggling with. Some of those things I struggle with as well and so I worry about her wellbeing on every level and I need to let her find her own way but I still miss her.

Ana now lives in the “CITY” which is different from any place she has ever lived in her entire life. Granted Fort Collins seemed huge to her when she moved for college from Hawaii but the CITY is really big and now she’s smack-dab in the middle of it, exactly where she wants to be. I know that she can take care of herself and I only live blocks away but I still miss her.

Her presence allowed me to focus on her for awhile, it was nice to be able to really be “mom” for a little bit, I missed so much of that when I came to the mainland. She was only 7 years old and my heart still tightens and my eyes well with tears over the decision that I made – and that my compassionate, understanding kids have forgiven me for but that I will never will. I missed her and Luke so much during those years, the summers far from long enough, the lifetimes of living gone. I missed her then and even though she lives nearby and she’s physically closer than ever before I still miss her.

So letting go includes things that I haven’t even thought of yet – things that I thought I had already let go of, living that I believed I had already dealt with. Things within that fortress of my heart, where I keep the pain and fear, that is where this letting go lives and why I must release my hold on Ana and let her go her own way … but I still miss her.

Caring for my house

There is an Indian proverb or axiom that says that everyone is a

house with four rooms, a physical, a mental, an emotional and a spiritual.

Most of us tend to live in one room most of the time,

but unless we go into every room every day,

even if only to keep it aired, we are not a complete person.

~Rumer Gooden~

Bit by Bit

Life is about letting go...

Letting go of expectations

Letting go of doubt

Letting go of the hurts

Letting go of feeling foolish

Letting go of being perfect

Letting go of hating my body

Letting go of the lies

Letting go of the pretending

Letting go of bad habits

Letting go of those things that only bring pain

Letting go of the past

Letting go of the needs

Letting go of the fear of failure

Letting go of the need to control the outcome

Letting go of the unknown

Letting go of the fear

Letting go of the pain

Letting go of ... everything

If I'm ever going to be able to spread my wings and truly fly, I need to let go of the things that continue to hold me down. It continues to baffle me as to why letting go of things that do me no good at all is so very difficult. You would think - I would think - that ridding myself of the yucky stuff would be easy, after all the freedom and joy that await me on the other side are my hearts true desire, but holding onto those things is what I've always done and what I know best.

But the letting go must be done because I want to live and I have so many things I want to do and to be and to have in my life. So bit by bit my grip is loosening and my need to hang on less intense and that's a very good thing.

Emotion and Decision

I’ve been gathering lists of things that I want in my life, tying to put words to my desires and to also start the process of “putting them out” to the Universe in hopes of them being returned. One of the items I want is relationship with other women as friends and as a lover/partner. In doing this I realize that I need to address some of the details I believe are necessary for these relationships to work. I need to determine what is important to me, what I will and will not accept and what I can and cannot give. One of these things is the concept of commitment.

Commitment is a very real and very important part of relationship to me but it’s something that I’ve been led to believe I see differently than others. Because of that belief I’ve been trying to put words to what commitment is to me, how I perceive my role in it and what I want from another in return. I know that I cannot guarantee that other women will see commitment to friendship and relationship in the same way as I do and I also know that everything is fluid in life and things may change beyond my control but if I am clear about what I want and I can clearly articulate those wants then my chances are higher in creating that part of my life in the way that I desire.

Reading today’s post at www.chookooloonks.com Karen so eloquently put words to the thoughts and beliefs swirling around in my head and heart. The following will become part of my “statement” in regards to commitment in friendship and relationship. Thank you Karen!

“… it's not about loving someone when the adrenaline rush of love disappears or romance fades; it's more about making the decision to love someone when they're having a hard time loving themselves. It's about the commitment you make to not give up on that person, to rush in to help when necessary, but also knowing when to step back, mindfully, watchfully, ready to be there when the time is right. It's a difficult lesson. But I've come to believe love is an emotion and a decision. The trick is to cultivate and care for both.”

Regardless of the outcomes from my past, I still believe in love as an emotion and a decision and that a commitment based upon both can be sustained. I'm willing to commit to the work, knowing that the emotion will ebb and flow but my decision will remain firm.

Stop with the fear already

Ana and me in Kona, Hawaii

photo taken by Bam

I realized today that in my post yesterday I did exactly what I need to stop! I once again went where it's familiar and to what I know ... to the fear. I know this fear, as evidenced by the post, so I really have no need to revisit it once again. But it's what I know, it's what is comfortable, it's what's keeping me stuck.

I need to stop looking for the reasons, and trying to find the origins of my fears because I know them all intimately and I know where they come from. My inability to let go of the fears is my biggest issue right now. Unless I can let them go - let the fear and pain go - I will not find the joy that I so desire or the life that I long for.

So, I am stating - again - that I will no longer dwell on the fear and the pain but I will open my heart and mind to the joys that surround me and the opportunities to create the life that I so desire. And hopefully that change will be evident in this space as well.

Wish me luck!

Finding Fear

I’ve been stuck, stuck for a very long time and I know that the muck that I’m stuck in is fear, but knowing the composition of the muck and removing myself from said muck is a battle I’m still fighting. I’ve been trying to identify the origins of those fears in order to move from them ...

Between the ages of approximately 5 to 8 years, I lived in Illinois with my parents and younger brother and sister. With my father being the preacher we lived in the parsonage of a beautiful little county church both of which were located in the heart of “tornado alley”. I realize that many, many states have tornado alley’s but this was mine.

It’s funny that I remember the church, not all of it but how it looked from the outside. You see, I have virtually no memories from the time spent in Illinois but that is where I acquired my fear. Many things happened to me in that place – things that should never happen to a child, things unspoken, and those things are why I have so few memories. I remember enough to know that I don’t need to remember any more. I’m at peace with that part of my life and the little girl that was me is at peace too. But besides the fear of those horrible things (as if that wasn’t enough), I remember growing one of my greatest fears during this time … my fear of the wind.

I remember being that little girl and playing outside in the back yard, next to the corn field that rose so high I was told I would immediately get lost if I entered it (more fear) and during that play looking to the sky and seeing on the horizon the clouds starting to gather, dark and foreboding, bringing the wind and the storm. My stomach would knot and I remember feeling sick and thoroughly terrified of what was careening across the sky to where I was. I had no one to talk to about my fear as every time I tried I’d been told to “stop worrying, remember your brother and sister are looking to you so if you’re scared they will be too is that what you want?” Of course it wasn’t what I wanted so I kept it all inside – I tucked it in deep alongside the other fear (of those things unspoken) and begged that the God that was supposed to love me, would keep the storms away, to ease my fears but once the clouds were in the sky, the storm was already on the way and not even God could stop it.

My mother took the tornados seriously and night after night in the summer we would be swept into the cellar under our house to wait out the storm. I’d literally crawl into my parent’s room and lay down on the floor beside their bed every time the wind howled at my window, I was forbidden to wake them because of the wind - I had done it too many times before - but I was close and ready to go just in case. I remember the cellar and the radio being on and the reports and alarms that would sound, knowing that each time another tornado was swirling very nearby. I remember waiting for the top of the house to fly off and to be carried away by the storm, never to be seen again. Much of my fear was that I didn’t know what would happen to me and where I’d end up.

We were never directly hit by a tornado but saw the results of them time and time again. The cattle in the wrong field, the corn stalks driven through trees and stuck so firmly into the dirt road to our house that you could hardly pull them back out, the barns and buildings leveled or just lifted and placed a mile down the road with no apparent damage. Tornados were terrible, to my little self they were incomprehensible and that scared me most of all, those unknowns and what-ifs.

So, here I am now some 40 plus years later and I’m still wary of the wind. I’ve learned to love thunder and lightening and the rain that often comes with them but the wind is still not my friend. It unsettles me and rattles my soul. I work on the 25th floor of a 53 story high-rise and when the wind really blows, the building creaks. I know that it must and it’s a good thing that it does, it keeps the building from breaking in half so I get it, it’s okay to hear the creaking and feel the subtle swaying, but oh, how it makes me hate the wind. I don’t fear it when I’m in the building at work but I hate it - I tend to fear it when I’m alone and it’s dark. It’s not the same type of fear as that little girl experienced but it is fear still.

As I had written in a previous post, I realize that I am afraid of not being afraid and that sounds so crazy even as I write this, but it is my truth at this time in my life. My fears have been building for a long time and they hold very strong fortresses within my heart. Some of them were created as protection from those things unspoken, and some came to be by lack of proper attention and appropriate care for the little girl that I was. I don’t fault anyone in this fear building process, including myself, but I am recognizing the bases upon which they were built. I think that only by identifying the root causes of my fears will I be able to truly attack the hold they have over me and in turn free myself from their suffocating grip.

I want to feel freedom from the fear. I want to truly live my life from a point of love rather than fear. And I want to reap the rewards awaiting my arrival at joy.