Geographical Escape 2.8: The Eye of the Storm

photo credit: www.atmos.washington.edu

Her earthy sensuality drew him to her like a magnet. He had not wanted to attend the art show opening but Joe had insisted he give it a try. Karen’s good friend, Ella, was showing her paintings and sculptures at a local but well-known gallery that night. Joe wanted another guy to join him.  He knew that Tom, his long-time friend since childhood, would not let him down.

He was surprised by the emotions her work evoked in him.  The images varied; landscapes, abstracts, etc. But it was the ones that displayed human relationships that grabbed his heart. He found himself not able to stand, so he took a seat by a window bench. From this vantage point he was able to observe the easy way she worked the room. She had a peaceful charisma about her and laughed easily. To Tom, she was the piece de resistance- a woman who possessed both an inner and outer beauty. Her auburn hair flowed onto her shoulders, her green eyes glimmered, her skin was neither porcelain nor olive toned. It exuded warmth- a place where he could softly land.

She found him there after the show was done.  “You look a bit out of your element,” she said.

“I want to buy one of your pieces,” he replied.

They had been inseparable ever since. Her calming self-assured nature provided him with a sense of peace that he had never known.  Together they created a life filled with children and solid friendships.

She still painted and sculpted in between raising the kids and creating a home. She had become active in the valley’s art community and it was there that she met the president of a nearby art college. He was impressed by her work and her leadership as well as  her promotion of the arts at the local level. He offered her a teaching position at the school and also wanted to commission her work.

As a result of this offer, Ella wanted to expand her studio space to the room above the garage. She had even gone as far as accepting a few bids for the job. Moreover, she had quickly said yes to the position. All three kids were in school full time and her schedule would easily fit in with theirs.

Tom completely supported her executive decision. His relief at not being caught helped make it easy for him. Summer ended. Fall began.  Work buzzed along smoothly. The studio went up quickly. When he had to work late, he would often find her there lost in her work. Many nights they made love on the floor amidst the spilled colors and clumps of clay. Her lips always offering words of love. Her hips like pearls of water.  Her skin once again giving him a soft place to land.

Geographical Escape 2.7: Breakwater

photo credit: www.searchlightphotography.com

A searing bile rose up in his throat. He ran to the bathroom and heaved noisily. His mind began to race. How could she have found out?  He thought that he covered his tracks. His world was about to implode.

Maybe Joe would have a clue. He inhaled deeply as he pressed the contact number on his phone. “Tom, buddy!  How’s it going out there?”  Joe answered in his usual hearty voice. “Karen and the kids and I thrilled that Ella and your brood will be coming down. And we are so excited to hear about Ella’s job offer and her ideas for the studio!”

Tom quickly shifted gears. He explained that Ella’s good news was the reason for his call. Without missing a beat, Tom told Joe that he was planning to catch the next flight home and surprise everyone down at the beach. He would probably be there tomorrow. Joe promised to keep it to himself.

With that decision, he bought himself some time. He took a long hot shower and scrubbed himself until his skin felt raw. Last night’s shenanigans, his abbreviated sleep on the sand, the strange  journey back to the motel and his recent emotional state had left him drained. He crawled to bed and fell into a deep sleep.

When he woke up the next morning, he was ready to go. He had enough clean clothes since he only had worn his cycling outfit for the past 48 hours. If his wife asked about the bike, he would just say that he stopped off at the office to get it after he landed.

He pulled into Joe and Karen’s place bursting with confidence. And there they were: his beautiful family: The boys with their jet black hair and his daughter an exact replica of her mother. Flowing auburn hair and those deep green eyes that you just lost yourself in.

He had returned to safer harbor. Or so he thought.

Things To Remember

photo credit: www.flickr.com

A sunrise on a new day

The way my lover looks at me across the room

Celebrations big and small with friends and family

Eating a good meal every day

The love I feel for my sons

The passion I have for running

The healing that yoga brings me

Nights snuggled under the covers with a good book

The peace I feel in my heart

This week’s post  is inspired by Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday prompt:http://kellieelmore.com/2013/05/17/fwf-free-write-friday-image-prompt-7/

An Early Morning Ride

The steam rose off the pond

In the early morning chill

Creating an illusion of ghosts

Heading to their daytime slumber

The cold dawn belied the day ahead

with its promise of springtime toastiness

They rode together, two soul sisters

Sharing a sunrise conversation

They were heading to a place of  healing heat

A weekly oasis that stretched their aching muscles

Soothed their souls and cleared their cluttered minds

Their bond was a rock amidst major life changes

A reminder of what matters in life:

A beautiful dawn

Rejuvenating mind and body work

And a loving and lasting friendship

Seismic Shifts and Cosmic Changes

images

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.”
Lao Tzu

Sometimes I am often in awe of the changes that have happened in my life in the past six years. The tumult, turmoil and triumph have been terrifying and tremendous transitions. But why be reflective of the changes? Why not be consciously aware of the transformations as we move forward in our lives?

When changes are traumatic and dramatic, it is difficult to embrace the idea that your life will be different. And in reality, when hard times knock on your door, you just want to get them over with!  The good news is that major life changes-whether good or bad- don’t happen everyday-thank goodness!

Change happens constantly and most of the time we don’t notice it because it is so subtle.  Perhaps this is one of the reasons I love to run so much. My early morning routine has allowed me to notice even the smallest of things. Winter running tests your dedication-it is mostly dark and very cold and often icy. But if you move through the short period of blackness, you begin to notice the shift from dark to dawn.  One of my favorite times is when both the sun and moon hang opposite of each other in the sky.   For me, it is a sign that living a life of balance can help provide awareness of  the beauty of each day. I also think that I have greater tenacity when my ying and yang can hang together nicely.

Back in October, I wrote about transitions and the conflict  (within ourselves and between loved ones) that can sometimes arise during these times. I wonder, though, if the conflict comes about because of either a lack of communication or because of  a lack of being cognizant of the changes taking place in our lives?  Or does it show up because we don’t always control the change? Or is it all three?

I am blessed with deep friendships and loving family connections and it is through these relationships that I have come to understand that all of us are undergoing realignments in our lives.  And let’s just throw out the old cliche’ of  “mid-life crisis” as THE major life change while we are at it. My soul sister is journeying through a small multitude of refinements in her life that include navigating through her daughter’s teenage years, seeing her oldest off to college, pondering a possible change in her long time nursing career and- most recently- preparing to say goodbye to the family’s beloved dog. A long time friend and her family (who lived here all of their lives) just moved two cities away. The move is no doubt a positive moment in their life. She finally feels at home. But it is also strange. She said to me: “For so long I turned left; now I have to turn right.”

Sometimes it is hard to watch our own parents make changes in their lives as well. I had a wonderful conversation with my seventy-seven year old father this morning. It was enlightening to listen to him as he related some of the shifts he is making in his own life. I think for some of us (including myself) it is hard to imagine that our older parents would develop new relationships or lessen their involvement in life-long interests in order to pursue new things. We want them to stay the same because that is all we have known our whole life.

I suppose the same holds true for my sons. I will be getting married and moving away within the next two years. For them, mom has been the sturdy rock in their lives. This house is their “base camp.” So it is a little freaky that I will not be here most of the time! But we are working our way through this change together.  The timing is good for their ages.  It helps that they live more in the real adult world where they can practice independence.  And the goals that  they have are ones that will have them feeling safe and secure upon my departure. I have seen my sons mature more in the last six months than I have in a long while.  This is a good sign.

As for me, I am both anxious and excited during this time. It will not be easy to leave an area that I have known all my life- a place where I have embedded community connections and relationships. But a huge part of my life is now elsewhere awaiting its next phase. I am ready to embrace it!  In the meantime, I can honestly say that I am enjoying the journey to my next destination thanks to the loving support of my fiance’,  my family and  my friends.

Time Out

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you
See the canyons broken by cloud
See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out
See the bedouin fires at night
See the oil fields at first light
See the bird with a leaf in her mouth
After the flood all the colours came out

It’s a beautiful day,
Don’t let it get away
It’s a beautiful day… ~ U2

This morning I woke up and did a rare morning ritual; I sat on my back steps and watched the sun rise. Normally, I would be out running and catch the start of the day with a mile to go. By then the sun (if it is not to become an overcast day) awakens in a glow of orange and grayish green.  As I sat in my robe sipping my hot coffee, the rise was clearly pink and blue.

I have the day off from work today, but there is always work to do.  However, the forecast for today promises to be warm and sunny; a rare occurrence in November! So, do I spend it inside reading articles for a meeting later on this week? The answer is an obvious and resounding “NO!”  Darkness begins to descend up here at about 3:30 in the afternoon. You can almost feel everyone beginning to hunker down. I guess that is why I get up so early; I want to grab the light and soak it in for as long as possible!  Fresh air is also vital to my well-being and staying indoors for a long period of time makes me feel like a caged animal. So, instead of reading or raking ( I am so done for the season), I am going to the beach with my girlfriends!

I do not feel one ounce of guilt about this decision either! My profession can be all-consuming at times and lately I find myself getting annoyed about the expectations that are placed upon both me and my colleagues. I love to work hard and I even stay late (sometimes this is the most productive part of my day-no one is around), but my job is not my life. So you can imagine how thrilled I was when I received a message from one of my friends who is a beach bum like me.

On days like these, you can expect the shore to be visited by diehards like us. Two notable contrasts from the summer are dogs and horse back riders. The no animals rule does not apply at this time of year and it truly is a beautiful sight to watch the dogs play and the horses sprint in the surf.  The sky is huge and there is even a sense of calm here as the three of us took a long walk at the water’s edge.

Strolling in the sand and surf with my soul sisters provides sustenance and a kind of emotional energy for me. All three of us are moms and working women who are equally involved in our faith community.  Finding time to tune in to one another is a challenge.  When we get together, there is a constant flow of conversation and we always pick up where we left off.  Interestingly, we also find ourselves discovering new insights into each others lives-past and present!  When you reach our age, all bets are off-no judgements, no secrets-we support one another in worries big and small and in the good stuff too.

Today we took time to notice the world around us. We climbed the rocks to watch the November sun shimmer on the water. We stopped to watch a little girl play in the sand with her bathing suit on and kids flying their kites in the breeze. We paid attention to the changes in tide and the way the ground felt beneath our feet. We watched a family climb the jetty and release a bouquet of balloons into the wind.  We marked this day by taking photos of our footprints in the sand.

Spending a few hours with my friends at the ocean has a way of raising me up and removing me from the daily obligations that at times just wears me down. I feel renewed, fulfilled and centered when I am with them. When I am in the company of my girlfriends, I find myself smiling on the outside and inside.

So as much as I would like to think that I took a time out from things today, I really took a time in. As the rest of my day unfolded, I discovered that I could get things done more easily and with a more positive attitude. I can now look to the week ahead with a fresher perspective.

So soul sisters, I bow to you!  Thank You Thank You Thank You for a beautiful day!

How Yoga Saved My Life

 Do you know what it feels to have the light of love surround you when all the darkness falls away?

Dave Matthews

I love yoga. I love the practice. I love the challenge. I love the sense of feeling grounded as soon as I hit my mat. I am so grateful that it has become a part of my daily life-especially when I am not on my mat.

I was having lunch with my graduate school friends about four years ago when the conversation turned to the topic of hot yoga. Two of my friends had gone to a local studio and were sharing their experience with us.  They turned to me and said, “Trackstar, you’ve got to try it! It is right up your alley because it is so intense!”

Unfortunately, my friends could not remember the exact name of the place. They knew the city where it was located, however, so I began my search. Picture the journey: a rainy, cold and dark November evening in an area that was completely unfamiliar to me. I began having second thoughts when much to my surprise, I arrived at an old house. The studio resided in the basement. I gave it a try that night and then another.  Somehow, in spite of the fact that I liked the experience, something about the studio did not feel quite right to me. In a later conversation with another of my graduate school friends, she shared that she knew of another hot yoga studio in a different part of the city. Maybe this was the one my other friends had spoken about!

The minute that I walked through the doors of the studio, it felt as if I was home. Immediately, the place gave off an aura of warmth and welcome.  Something inside of me understood that this community was a place for healing.  Up to that moment, I had been running twice a day in order to alleviate the stress related to the finality of my divorce process. Well, I wasn’t feeling better at all; I knew that I was risking injury with my current regiment.

When I entered the studio doors, I was also coming to grips with my mother’s diagnosis of Stage 4 pancreatic cancer. In essence,  I was a broken person. I had nowhere to put my dual grief. One of the things that I remember from that period was the amount of time I spent at the studio. Essentially, whenever I wasn’t out running, I was there. It became a chief focus: go to work and go to yoga. I am sure that I took care of other mundane tasks; after all my oldest was applying to college and I had to pay bills, take care of the house and put food on the table. But I was drawn to the practice because I knew that is where I needed to go in order to move through my pain.

I have memories of hard work, sweat and tears during that time.  Hot yoga takes you to a different plane; it peels back the layers of toxicity and negativity that invade your psyche. The beauty of the practice is that while space is shared with others-sometimes just inches away-it is profoundly private. I could let go and no one seemed to notice. When my mother died just 70 days after her diagnosis, I sought the solace of my mat.  My time on it became a divine experience and I am not afraid to say that I felt my mother’s spirit during many practices. I was also grieving the loss of an 18 year marriage; I was beginning to understand that the practice was an avenue for me to move forward into a new life.

Time marched on and I found myself talking endlessly about yoga. When finances got tight for a period of time, I practiced twice a day at home. My sons knew how much I loved yoga and conspired that Christmas to buy me 2 classes.   I remember seeing them with their heads together, engaged in deep conversation while we were buying our tree on a cold December night. Apparently, they were discussing my gift! For my birthday in the spring, two more classes were purchased followed by a Mother’s Day excursion to the studio for more. My youngest attempted the drive himself the day before and got lost!

The studio became another supportive community for me. I cannot begin to explain how each of the instructors helped me to become a more whole person. They are gifted people who have the ability to tune into the needs of their clients. They helped me heal and become a more confident woman. I will never forget the day that Elizabeth came up to me after a session to pay me a compliment. She said that I looked different in the practice now from what I was at the beginning. When I shared my story with her, she said that she could easily see that I was happier.

Yoga is an integral part of my life. It helped me become a better, more peaceful person. It helped me to realize that the ending of my marriage was a gift. It helped me to enjoy a healthy loving partnership with a beautiful man.  When I first entered the studio doors, I walked in darkness, now I walk in light.

Namaste

Unplugged

It is only when we silent the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of truth that life reveals to us, as it stands knocking on the doorsteps of our hearts.  – K.T. Jong

Yesterday I enjoyed a late lunch with my sweet love and another couple at a restaurant that had a strict no cell phone policy. (They also had a child behavior policy, which, in my opinion, was both honest and bold-good for them!) It was the first time that I had seen one specifically spelled out in a place of social interaction. Often, if I attend a meeting, concert, or lecture, an announcement is made regarding electronic device use.  More often, the request is rudely ignored. But not here! The lunch was delicious, the conversation deep and humorous and the only background “noise” was the appealing beat of Cajun music that befit the restaurant’s cuisine.

Up to that moment, I had (coincidentally) been pondering our culture’s “digital addiction” and its effects on our overall ability to communicate, concentrate and socialize with one another without the nearly constant interruption of a ringing cell or a buzzing text message.

Believe me, I am not against any of the newer ways that we can talk, gather information and stay connected to one another. Without advances in technology, I would not be writing this blog!  Moreover, I like my cell phone. It is not a “smartphone”, however; texting and talking are enough for me! I remember when I first got one. I was 42 and had received it as a birthday present. I wanted it for emergencies only. It was the post 911 and lock down era and I thought a phone was necessary. In truth, I was lucky to have it because I got a flat tire on the way home from work just two days later!  One call to AAA and the problem was solved quickly.

I also like the Internet for various reasons. Besides listening to NPR on the radio, it is the only way that I receive world, national and local news. I love reading the newspapers but I do not have it in my budget to pay for delivery. And, for me, most television news has seriously strayed from true journalism and factual reporting. Now, it is nothing but sound bite and crash and burn nonsense interrupted every three minutes by five minutes of advertising.  I enjoy having access to different sites where and when I am ready to read the news of the day without feeling that my intelligence is being insulted. I also love, love, love online banking and bill paying!  I am a better money manager as a result!

Email, of course, is a terrific tool as well. It helps me communicate efficiently with work colleagues and stay in touch with the  people who I socialize with in my hometown and through my volunteer work.

Still, there are inherent problems with staying “plugged in” day and night, seven days a week – now referred to as 24/7. Where do we draw the line?  For each email, text message or voice mail, there is almost an instant obligation and expectation of a response. Whatever happened to the dinner hour, bedtime, or weekends?  Think of the  oxymoron “working vacation”. WHAT? There is no such thing! If you are working, you are not on vacation!

CNN recently reported on “digital addiction” and the interviews provided an interesting insight as to how we function (or not) because of these advances. Reporter Brandon Griggs featured three “smart phone addicts” and how they use their device for nearly everything in their life. He stated that the phones are time capsules of our lives, dominating our work, our social  interactions, our purchases, our travels, our passions and our guilty pleasures. During the course of one week,  one woman reported that she sent 256 emails (part of it was work), 34 updates and comments on Facebook, 18 “likes”  and 93 “reads” of same. She also spent 9 hours of that week surfing the net. Additionally, she played games, checked her bank account and listened to audio books and voice messages. Another young  man reported that he was a “happy addict” but also stated that he could only go a few minutes without checking his text messages. He became anxious, depressed and even began to get sweaty palms if he forgot his phone at home. Without it, he says that he feels cut off from the world.

And never mind the physical health problems that doctors and physical therapists are seeing!  Doctors are now treating “Text Neck” (think of how you hold your head while looking at a screen) in increasing numbers-most especially in teenagers who now (along with 8-12 year olds) spend an average of 7 1/2 hours a day using entertainment media.

I do not consider myself in any way close to being addicted to my phone or the Internet. But it was this summer that I began to understand my need to break free of others’ expectations that I would  be available to answer emails,texts and phone calls regardless of where I was on this earth.  Having gone through a long divorce and an even longer post-divorce process, I was always in a state of digital alert for communication from either my attorney or my former husband.  I wanted and needed to break free from the unhealthy mind-set that had been dominating my existence for the last few years.

My summer vacation to the West Coast was definitely the impetus for this change.  I needed to free myself from the emotional responsibility for every possible scenario that might happen while I was away. So, I set up boundaries. Simply put: Don’t contact me unless it is an absolute emergency! I would not be checking emails, surfing the net, calling or texting.

Frankly, I had grown weary of the distracting factors that I felt were impeding the forward movement in my new life. I was just plain fed up with allowing another person’s agenda to interfere with my peace of mind. By making this decision, I was freeing myself of the idea that I was accountable for everyone else and their needs.

Now, I no longer have that sense of urgency that used to rule my life on a daily basis. I have learned that things have a way of taking care of themselves in their own way and in their own time. Becoming “unplugged” is liberating. Too many people in this world today spend their time looking down, their face basking in the glow of a screen.  We lose our perspective this way. ( Literally, people are not even watching where they are going! )

Unplug yourself so you can plug-in to see what’s in front of you, plug-in to see what’s above, plug-in to just BE.

The Love Jar

Where there is great love there are always miracles –

Willa Cather

The LOVE JAR. Well, that’s what we call it, anyway. The blue and gray pottery jar with the cork lid sits on the counter near the dishwasher. “Unconditional Love” is engraved across the front. We’ve had that jar for seven years now and it has been incorporated into our family’s language. It was given to us when life as we knew it blew up. Julia’s gift brought me immediate inspiration and became a vehicle for the three of us to experience joy and laughter. When I brought it home to the boys, I told them that the jar would be a means for us to make good memories. Then we came up with an astounding idea:  “Let’s go to New York City!”  So, we devised a plan to put away as much money as possible into our “LOVE JAR”.  Both boys immediately broke open their over-sized piggy banks and poured their change into the jar. I emptied my wallet of loose coins and spare one dollar bills. My oldest son, (who worked at an after school job at the local grocery store) volunteered to contribute a portion of his paycheck to it. My youngest son agreed that anytime he received money as a gift, he would put it in the jar. Spare change from each grocery store excursion was added. We even began to find money on the ground-some in major denominations!  When we told friends about our trip to the Big Apple, they would drop money in the jar whenever they visited.

The jar was magical! When I called my aunt to ask if we could stay with her for four days (she lives in the vicinity), she said that she would be thrilled to have us. We were relieved to know that we would be staying in a safe place with someone who knew and loved us. The trip was to take place right after Christmas- just in time for the school winter break.  And we were ready! We met our savings goal and off we went.

It is difficult to put into words how it felt to be in the warm embrace of my aunt’s hospitality and generosity. Not only were we fed and sleeping in warm beds, but my aunt drove us each day to the train station and presented the three of us with rail passes for the duration. When we went into the city one last time, she handed me cash and told me that I’d better not come home with any change!  The trip was the first of our many happy new memories that we were making during that time. And it would not have been possible if not for Julia’s thoughtfulness.

Needless to say, we came home from the trip with money to spare. It resided in the LOVE JAR where it continued to be depleted and replenished over time. The jar has become a reliable resource for us. We took a second trip to the city six months later, seeing new sights and enjoying warmer weather. It helped us enjoy our “Celebration of Three” party that spring. Part of our recent weekend trip to the mountains was funded by the jar. Sometimes we use it to buy something as simple as a stamp, a gallon of milk, or a loaf of bread. To this day, friends still put money in whenever they visit.

The LOVE JAR is my family’s miracle. It was a way for the three of us to begin to heal from one of  life’s worst heartaches and become a whole family in a different way.  We take care of each other. We rely on each other. We hold one another up. We love one another unconditionally. The LOVE JAR has restored our faith in the meaning of and power in family. THANK YOU JULIA!

What is Your Cultural Groove?

Upon first glance, working class suburbia would seem a place devoid of an authentic culture.  After all, my childhood hometown was, and continues to be, a place that is overwhelming white, filled with small ranch houses, older capes, and a main thoroughfare that is packed with strip malls and small office buildings. However, if I were to define my culture based on this shallow exterior, I would be doing it an injustice.

Both my parents grew up in two different small cities just outside of a larger city in the Northeast. Like all young couples that married in the late 1950’s, they were drawn toward dreams of homeowner-ship. Within seven months of my birth, they left their small apartment behind and moved to the town that my brother and I were to grow up in.

I have come to realize over the years- through stories that my mother told me and through example-the great sacrifices that my folks made in order to offer us a better life. Early on, my father needed to work two full-time jobs so that he  could support his family. Back then, of course, it was nearly unheard of that women worked outside the home once the children were born.  But for many working class households, it was an absolute necessity to have a second income. Frankly, I have always wondered why this past phenomenon isn’t  part of a larger public discussion today. These days we always talk about the need for both parents to work. In my day (gosh don’t I sound old!),  the money was needed for food and the  mortgage for the small ranch house- not for lavish vacations and other material items. Please don’t get me wrong- I know that the need for two incomes just to feed your family still exists today.  But I also see the pursuit of more tangible things in my generation- a great shift in the overall culture to be sure.

But I digress. The better life that  I am speaking of included endless times of running around in the woods with the neighborhood kids, swimming in the pool and long bike rides to lakes and the coast. And along with the traditional culture of 1960’s and 70’s suburban childhood, came a more subtle change-one that broadened my family’s horizons. Since the work my father did was closely associated with a university and since he also was becoming a dedicated runner, our family crossed paths with people from all generations and ethnic backgrounds who enjoyed the sport as well. Our home became a haven for hungry graduate students and other idealistic youth as well as people old enough to be my parents’ parents! Because my brother and I met so many different kinds of people, we learned compassion for, and an understanding of, others who existed beyond the borders of our little town.

These changes set the stage for  a newer definition of culture and its accompanying values for my family as well as myself.

So, as I was growing up, running became our focus for family time as well as our social network.  It was especially  exciting to be a female runner in those days! Women were just beginning to become more visible in the sport and I can say for certain that running gave me strong self-confidence and leadership skills in other areas of my life.  Moreover, I witnessed my father sacrifice his own running career in order to provide increased opportunities for my brother and I. Additionally, both my parents helped to support various youth in the neighborhood and town in their running endeavors.

My parents taught me that culture is not just about your ethnic heritage and where you live but how you live.

Therein lies the “groove”!

Certainly, too much of the 21st century’s “busy and distracted” and selfish culture creeps into our lives today and attempts to throw us off track. But even if it has, it doesn’t mean that we’ve lost our groove! Sometimes it just gets put in a pile of someone else’s agenda for a while.

The trick is that you have to learn to create a way of life that fits you and those you love. It means staying grounded and resolute in that idea. What is it that you value? How do you want to live your life?

When I think of how I grew up, it can be summed up in two words: Building Relationships. Now, I cannot say the my life thus far is an exact replica of my parents’ . That is impossible.  I can only  say for sure that I wanted that life and tried darn hard to bring in some of the same experiences. In truth, it has only been in the last five years that I can say my life fits into this mold. And guess what?  It came from letting go of all that I had known in my adult life.  The life that I once lived was shallow and not what it appeared to be.  I had a hand in making sure that it looked perfect because I was too afraid to face the fact that I thought I had been a failure.

But good gosh! It wasn’t failure; I had lost my groove. I wanted it back- not just for myself but for my kids. They deserved to enjoy a legacy where they had an opportunity to understand that life is about relationships with others. They needed to know that Community-, whether it is a faith-based, family-based ( in any incarnation), school- based, town- based, athletically- based (or all of the above)- was where it’s at.

Sometimes finding your cultural groove means risking the end of relationships that are detrimental to how you want to live. If it is harming you, then it will harm those you love in the long run ( no pun intended). Pick it out of that pile and make it your own again my friend!

I have come to understand that you have to ride the rough waves at times -and for a lot longer than you want to- in order to find that spot on the shore that allows you to live more honestly and freely.

And yes, it is absolutely worth it.  I guess you could say that I’ve reclaimed my spot on the beach. Boy,  it feels good to sink my feet in the sand!