Untying the Knots

On December 24, 2014 By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry2 Comments

A season unfolding

Held close this year

Remembrances of loved ones newly and long gone

Thoughts turn to those here

Present

But some not quite

Some whose path is lonely

Fraught with regret

Some where Darkness

sheds light on the coulda shoulda

as the year’s end draws near

Yet how much is their own doing?

Their focus on what they didn’t get or don’t have?

Another year another reprise of not fixing their own brokeness

Not delving deep within

‘Tis the time when light is hard to find

It is but a pin prick

in the deep dark corner of your soul

Awaiting its unraveling

A beacon of self love

and hope

and faith

and your own Amazing Grace

Wrapped in a Black Bow

On December 14, 2014 By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman2 Comments

Credit: www.idolbin.com

Today I gave myself a gift. It’s wrapped not so neatly in a word document for now. I’ll unveil it after the new year and I’ll share it with my therapist but no one else. It’s a letter to my ex-one that will never be sent; yet one that needed to be written. One last bit of closure. A chance to shut the final door on the house of shame that I once lived in.

It’s funny how the past reveals itself in unexpected places within our hearts. I understand that it is a normal process when undergoing an enormous life change. (I’m getting married in six months and moving to a new house for those who are new to my site.) It is important to examine these nuggets, these itches that don’t seem satisfied with just a mere surface scratch.

Sometimes I do wonder if I will be permanently scarred by the emotional and verbal abuse that plagued my first marriage. I no longer consider myself a victim nor do I present as one. I am a survivor, I think. Although that seems like such a heavy and misapplied term given that there are worse things that humans have endured compared to my experience. I mean, really, I have an amazing and very happy life now. I don’t wallow in past hurts. I’ve gone through all the stages that victims of abuse pass through on the path to healing. I’ve been lucky enough to have been in therapy two years before the marriage ended; I had acquired the basic tools for surviving the dismantling and its endless aftermaths.

Maybe I am more of a karmic avenger for others who themselves have been or are currently in a similar situation. Because I have lived in my community for nearly twenty-six years, many, many people have seen my transformation. Some have needed an ear, a shoulder to cry on, or words of wisdom to help them through their journey. (And for those of you in blogland, it has always been my sincere wish that this space serves the same purpose through my posts.) When you’ve been there, done that and crossed to the other side, people seek you out. They see it. They sense it in the way you carry yourself. They want some of that! And why not?

It takes supreme psychic bravery to free yourself and move forward out of an unhealthy relationship. The hard work of healing can take you down roads that are often dark and full of pitfalls. It is at times very uncomfortable. Sometimes you find yourself on a temporary detour when you least expect it. (Like me, this month). Most of all, it takes time, lots of time.

Are you ready to receive the best gift of all?

What About Forgiveness?

On November 23, 2014November 23, 2014 By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman13 Comments

Credit: sufiuniversity.org

I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of forgiveness lately. I’m not sure I fully understand what it means or maybe I am on a journey towards getting a grip on the whole idea. I am sure that I have practiced it. And I am equally certain that I have been forgiven by others.

I have heard time and again of the importance of forgiveness as it frees you up to let go and move on. But I’m not quite in agreement with that advice. We are told if we don’t forgive that we are holding onto a grudge or anger or allowing ourselves to continue to be a victim. No, no, no!

Forgiveness is a weighty matter and depends upon the circumstances of another’s transgressions. It is equally dependent on whether the other party has sought to make amends, take responsibility for the pain caused to the aggrieved party or practice redemptive actions.

If someone has not actively done any of that, how can we really forgive? We can accept what has happened to us, grieve and live the pain for a bit and move on to a new and perhaps (if we are lucky) an even better life. I believe acceptance of what happened to us is not passive in nature at all. My current life is living proof of this fact as many of you who have been following me well know.

Here’s what I can do. I can compliment my former spouse for making two good decisions in his life: marrying me and divorcing me. Because he married me, I received two gifts that will last a lifetime and beyond: my sons. They are living proof of two decent human beings who understand life’s purpose and bring joy and steadfast love to their world. Moreover, because he divorced me, I received a second chance at a better life. Everything that has happened to me, the experiences, the people, the places I have seen and the joy I have known would NEVER have occurred if he did not choose to go. Both my sons and I would have missed out on the riches that all these things have brought to our lives. Imagine that!

So here is what I can forgive: his inability to fundamentally commit to family life. The man just does not have the capacity because of his family of origin’s extreme dysfunction. His original wound has not healed. I have genuine sympathy for that young man who suffered because of one parent’s indiscretions. At the beginning of our life together, neither one of us would know the degree to which this informed our marriage. Over time it increasingly held me hostage and spilled over until it took the form of neglect as well as emotional and verbal abuse.

And that is what I cannot forgive yet. Do I expect an apology? An acknowledgement? Maybe. Or perhaps if I saw glimmers of hope in his relationship with our sons I could take that step. So far not so good.

In the meantime, I continue to live out loud. A free woman. Let loose from the chains of harsh criticism and passive aggressive behaviors. Walking lightly-some say floating- on this good earth.

Renewed Liberation

On November 10, 2014 By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry7 Comments

Haunting Thoughts…

Ruminations and Deliberations …

Affirmations of His Implosion

His Dearth of Self-Examination

And Unending Needs for External Gratification

Just a Twisted Quest for Self Satisfaction

A Mere Existence

Never Present

My Fertile Heart

Unearthed

Revealed

A Treasure for Mine and Another’s own Good Keeping

My Soul once Secluded

Pummeled into Submission and Secrecy

Sings without Restraints and Restrictions

My Mind once Sculpted So as to Please

Unselfishly Speaks for Itself

A Voice Resonating and Resounding

My Body Once Picked Apart

Used and Discarded

Now a Scrumptious Delight in the Tender Hands of Another

Where once My Very Being was at Stake

Torn Asunder by the Winds of His Words

I Reemerge Retooled

One Righteous Babe

Ready for Reckoning

Holding On and Letting Go

On November 8, 2014July 27, 2018 By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman3 Comments

Credit: background-pictures.picphotos.net

I washed my hair in the kitchen sink as soon as I got home from work. I had nowhere to be so it wasn’t for appearances sake; I simply couldn’t stand the look of myself. Taking a shower was too much work, what with taking my clothes off and all. I simply wanted to feel refreshed and cleansed without the effort.

Afterwards, I immediately felt more beautiful. There’s been no one home to affirm this, but that is not the point. I just needed to be more comfortable for myself.

I think the weight of my bad hair day was a metaphor for my state of being this week. The roller coaster of inner emotions, simmering thoughts and reminders of past hurts and anger showed up in my tresses!

I have been told that this is all part of the grieving process and of letting go- especially the part about being angry. So what to do, what to do. Not much action is necessary, I think. I’ll sit with it for a while, but not wallow in it. I’ll stay quiet. Offer it up to the universe. And breath in. Breathe out.

Up in the Clouds

On October 13, 2014July 27, 2018 By buildingalifeofhopeIn Hiking, Life's Journey, memoir9 Comments

One of the many views taken from my phone

4 AM Sunday arrived quietly. I stepped out of the mudroom to feel the air and check the sky for stars and the waning moon. The day held promise – it was one we have been preparing for since my youngest son set it as a goal that long day in August (Trails, Tales and Tails ).

I had been obsessively checking the forecast for Mount Lafayette all week. If the weather looked too dismal, the hike would need to be postponed. Any mountain above treeline becomes treacherous in bad weather. Caution and common sense must prevail. Lucky for us, it would be a decent day, albeit colder than the other hikes. No shorts nor short sleeves for this one!

Emily would join us once again and, after a quick stop for more coffee, we picked her up. Her first words after “Good morning” were “I have some Oktober Fest beers-do you want me to get them?” HA! Great minds think alike.We had already put three Shiner Bocks in the cooler, a welcome reward awaiting us after a rigorous day!

It is hard to believe that in less than two hours we arrived in the notch. Hat and gloves and a third top layer were added to the ensemble before commencing the trail. Already the parking lot was crowded; we were lucky to find a spot. The summit was not yet visible; shrouded in clouds and a fog that we hoped would burn off by the time we neared the top.

Within minutes of walking, we shed the layers that we donned in the parking lot; the woods offering an insulating protection from the cold. Like our last excursion, we had plenty of company. Families, couples and many Canadians from Quebec out for a Thanksgiving challenge!

When you hike long enough with others you know, a natural pace and rhythm evolves. And as one hikes in this region, you come to expect tree roots and boulders to mark the path.You relax into one another and the pursuit before you. Time is suspended and you become wholly present. (I had been up this mountain long ago with my parents, brother and others. But the time and my age escape me.More than a lifetime ago – so much so that it feels like the first time today.)

There are three ways to climb this beast; all the trails offering their own special gifts and challenges. I decided on Old Bridle path as it was the shortest route (7.6 or so in all) with 3490 feet in vertical. The summit rests at 5220 feet.

The views were stunning as well as spectacular along the way, causing us to naturally pause and soak it all in:

( This photo from my phone does not do it justice of course but you get the idea!)

Per usual, we encountered the unexpected. As we were rounding a turn in the path, we paused to let two hikers descend. As we resumed, I mouthed to my son: “That looks like so and so.” Then from around the bend came Sue! Sue and her son are old neighbors of ours who moved a couple of years back. Her son and mine were inseparable playmates for years but personal circumstances affected their relationship. We stopped for a long few minutes, attempting to catch up (they had spent the night with her brother, the first hiker, in the hut after hiking over the ridge the previous day). Such a bittersweet encounter. My son was thrilled that he finally ran into someone he knew. But later on the drive home, he would remark of how shocked he was to see his old friend, how he forgot to ask after him and how it really sucked that their relationship changed.

Onward we marched, remarking of how much easier the hike was before we saw the layers upon layers of granite stones before us. The heart takes on a different beat while hiking these spots. Fervent and strong rat-a-tat-tats, reminders of being alive!

We reached Greenleaf Hut-an alpine respite for many.

Credit: www.wunderground.com

(This is not what it looked like yesterday at the time we were there!)

The weather changed here in a significant way.Crowded and noisy with preparation for what lay ahead. A summit that was socked in and strong winds of frigid air. We stopped to capture some of nature’s new sights and then continued forward.

Hoar frost at Greenleaf Hut

View of Eagle Lake from the northeast side of the hut

A field of stones leading away from the hut towards the rocky and clouded switchbacks of the summit’s route

Lafayette is a tricky mountain. Besides the weather, the summit seems just out of reach with just a mile or so to go. But in fact it is the part beyond Greenleaf that it truly the longest and roughest stretch. They say this hike requires stamina and I would agree with that description! You may be physically fit and fueled, but the mental fatigue can get the best of you if you let it. Or you can take a page out of my son’s book and literally dance in celebration of the experience. What a sight! 6’4″+ of fully body exuberance! Joyful and thrilled at the fact that he had never experienced this before. A view of the summit was impossible but we could see lines of hikers making their descent. A human path. The cairns became towers and my son added his own piece to one, marking his climbing territory. As if to say “I AM HERE.”

We forced ourselves to stop for water. Arctic sips necessary for the remainder of the ascent even though we did not feel one bit thirsty. We stopped to strike a pose for my son:

Strong mountain women!

The winds were blowing around us and the sun was battling to be seen as we reached the top. ( I have photos but wish to protect the privacy of my boy). We debated eating because of the temperature but we were starving, so we took shelter behind a small slab of rock. The place was alive with French chatter and thru hikers talking shop who had emerged from an unseen path via Franconia Ridge. The clouds parted briefly and a loud cheer went up as we celebrated and clung to its heat. We felt uncomfortable sitting in our cold sweat, a dichotomous bodily experience that only movement would alleviate!

Emily and I share an aversion to descents. We find them harder because we fear placing our feet on the wrong rock and going ass over teakettle. We move like turtles as we watch others jump and run like mountain goats. My son is one of those. He relieves me of my stick and encourages me to use my arms for balance and tells me not to worry about falling. Emily and I stop to let others pass. This helps me get a better grip mentally. We reach the hut once again and Emily makes a pit stop. The place is even more lively than before as the sun has finally won out over the wind. It is here that we see the summit:

And lovely Eagle Lake once again:

As we reorganize our minds, bodies and spirits for the remaining 2.9 miles, I take in the raw majesty of Lafayette, its environs and its ever changing moods. I sigh, prepare myself and reckon that I must make the most of the rest of the day. And I surprise myself. I get better at my landings and when faced with slick slabs, choose the ass sliding option (coined by Emily!). We make sure to stop at the outcroppings which offer us endless greens and oranges, an overall rich golden hue and views to infinity.

The rushing sound of a wide-flowing stream signals we are near the end of our experience. My quads ache and Emily’s feet throb but we have enough energy to harmoniously shout a loud “WHOOP!” in the underpass that leads to the car. The packs are dropped as we open the trunk and cooler for a long cold one. The seven hour and forty-five minute hike ends with a toast to another memory made. We remove our boots and hit the road for the drive home. The notch road is lined with cars. We saw them from the heights of the mountain. Many of them are like us. Longing for an escape. A few hours away from the troubles and annoyances of everyday life. We journeyed into what truly matters. Time with Creation and with each other.

A Day at the Beach(Elevated!)

On September 30, 2014July 27, 2018 By buildingalifeofhopeIn Family, Hiking, Life's Journey, memoir7 Comments

Anyone who lives in the Northeast region will tell you that the weather can change on a dime. We can have gasping heat as summer says goodbye one day and near frost temperatures by the end of the same week. Tonight as I write this, a cool drizzle has begun with promises of a rainy day tomorrow.

But yesterday, oh yesterday was indeed a brilliant Sunday! Perfectly warm with no forecast of precipitation. A day planned for one final ascent before our October challenge in 13 days (weather permitting!). Mt. Osceola-considered to be one of the 4,000 footers in the region-awaited our arrival.

For me, the trip up is one of jittery anticipation. While I do extensive reading about and preparation for each hike, I am aware that one can never fully know a mountain until the boots start walking. The road to the trailhead lies seven miles off the highway on a barely paved then gravel road that is closed in the winter. Wilderness camping spots sporadically dot the roadside. No luxuries here. Seven miles feel like seventy when we finally locate the parking area. Full already with eager hikers like ourselves, we park the car roadside along with others and check in. I eschew the porta-potties for the privacy and cleanliness of the woods, risking only a mosquito bite or two.

The mountain will be busy today but not overly crowded. Merely populated by others like us who are seizing this day, for we know old man winter will visit soon enough making treks like this a little less possible. We lose daylight in just over a month and the climate in the higher elevations (even as low as this one) changes rapidly.

The ascent is one of large rocky switchbacks surprisingly easy on the legs and lungs. The cooler air in the woods helps to keep the heat at bay just a bit but I am soon down to a mere singlet. I lead and my son chats away about work and other things. Conversation comes easy to him here as opposed to other venues. We are in a natural rhythm as the trail climbs higher with slanted rock and delicious muddy puddles that my boy delights in tramping through-still so much a playful child but this time with waterproof steel toed size 14s!

When you work hard and sweat, it is easy not to feel hunger but hard to ignore thirst. We drink a lot of water but I begin to feel low on fuel. I am hopeful the summit is just minutes away, judging by the changing skyline. More blue than green tells me the top is close and I can’t wait to eat!

Sure enough, it appears in all its glorious beauty. We are smiling at not just having arrived, but at the vastness before us. The granite turf is filled with many others cheerfully chatting and feasting on their well deserved nourishment and drinking in the view that is like no other we have seen this season.We take a big break and move closer to the ledge-a front row vista in real 3D!

(Me in shadow, thankfully!)

(The boy’s gunboats and the infinite expanse are a good match!)

Reluctantly, we take our leave of Nirvana. Admittedly, I dislike descents. Unlike my son, whose large feet propel him with seeming ease over slabs both large and small, my lower center of gravity has me twisting and turning and landing on my ass (always at least once every time!). But it is a social event as well. Dogs, fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, groups of friends older than me, clearly glad to be anywhere but mostly here. We stop to let others come up past us and I recognize a woman who is climbing with her friend. “Excuse me, but do you go to South Church?” I inquire. She does and quickly confesses that she is not in church today (neither am I!). I always find it humorous when this happens-as if one has to feel guilty for some reason. The party behind assures us that we are a congregation and we laugh. I am sure our pastor would not mind at all. My son once again is amazed at the fact that I ran into someone I know somewhere far from home (It is true; it happens quite often). He says that even if we went to Europe, I would see someone I know!

While each step down brings me more fatigue, I am filled with joy for this day. There’s an energy to this place that inspires one to keep on going. I’ll have to hold onto that feeling and bring it to my everyday life and harness it for the next big climb.

Firsts and Lasts

On September 27, 2014September 29, 2014 By buildingalifeofhopeIn Family, Hiking, Home, Independent Woman, Motherhood5 Comments

autumn-dark-vintage-grainy-leak-Favim.com-1018974

We loaded the old boiler onto the truck Sunday night. It died two weeks ago during the last of summer’s heat. A few mornings of cold showers were tolerable, keeping us grateful that we weren’t enduring the endless cold snap of winter. A chilly house is an entirely different story during the dead season. Truth be told, we’ve been hanging in there with the old girl for at least two years. Replacing worn out parts here and there and enduring the fickle temperatures of the house’s water was all I could financially and psychologically manage. The day the new one was put in was drenched with unusual humidity. My youngest son was called to a job in the city first (but not before his vehicle was hit in the drive-thru getting his coffee!) to fix the clogged drains of helpless college students, leaving his boss to literally do the heavy lifting. A day of limbo-too hot to move or get things done in the house, so I watched and waited.

Daily life here has taken on a form of time out of mind. September began as and continues to be a state of fervent motion. My job in education this term has found me in a vortex of all-consuming energy leaving me little time to write. My house is full of people. My sons and their loved ones who are in need of shelter and peace take up space. Finding my groove this last autumn season here has proven to be challenging.

Perhaps this is how it is meant to be. I find myself in an acute state of high alert and awareness, this all-knowing sense of the last go round before the birth of a new life in a new place. (Truly- nine months from Sunday is the wedding day! ) I hear myself saying “This is the last time…” more often.

With that in mind, I am disconnecting and reconnecting to people and places which I’ve known for more than half my life. The town I live in and raised the boys no longer fees like home. The neighborhood-almost a last holdout for regular working class and middle class folks- is undergoing the transformation to over-sized and up-scaled new homes. The prices are ones I would never pay even if I had that kind of money. I no longer frequent the coffee shop in the busy center either. The familiar faces are scarce and the chances of running into my ex-husband and/or his current girlfriend keep me on edge. Not worth the trip! The shift is palpable; I feel like a stranger in a strange land.

That said, I am rediscovering the mountains that loom just a mere two hours from my house. My youngest son (and my dear friend Emily as her schedule allows) are hiking some of the 4,000 footers. The experience is always unique (see Trails, Tales and Tails) . Labor Day weekend found us hiking on Mt. Liberty, a rugged and steep climb culminating just above tree-line.

Summit

Credit: http://www.summitpost.org/summit/461392/c-151121

The descent was challenging as well and we were briefly entertained by a hiker holding court on the trail wearing only his tighty-whities! I guess Captain Underpants does exist…

Our most recent hike was an easy one; it’s purpose purely preparatory for the 5,000 footer we hope to ascend in October. The packs were heavier and the climb not as steep but we were moved by the bravery of a ten-year old boy with spina bifida who was climbing his first mountain with his family. Tomorrow is a new mountain, higher in elevation than the last with a day that promises to be brilliant.

These excursions (and others in June and last weekend with my fiance’ to other places that I hold dear to my heart) have helped remind me of the beauty in the surrounding region. It is the place where I grew up and grew older- and hopefully wiser! The time spent with my youngest (my oldest works on Sunday afternoons, unfortunately) takes on a deeper meaning and allows for new memories to be born.

Being wholly present during this shifting paradigm has continuously been a goal for me. Allowing myself to partner with the universe keeps me grounded and prepares me for the harder decisions and changes in plans for the future of my home and loved ones. Mostly it is empowering! The turn of events to come both sheds more of the past and sows the seeds for the future. One where we can all marry simplicity and strength.

(I’d like to thank all of you who have continued to follow me as well as my new followers during this unplanned break in my writing. Happy to be back with Kellie’s prompt! )

#FWF Free Write Friday: Image Prompt

by Kellie Elmore

A New Voyage

On August 23, 2014 By buildingalifeofhopeIn poetry5 Comments

Source: We Heart It

Late summer. You’re wandering, lost in the woods. You come across a gypsy wagon, and you call out…”hello?”

A stilted stillness settled in the air

The ground gave way

Moist, muddy and mucky

Her skin soaked and sweaty

Awash with the effort of escape

Her breath languid

Near to heaving in its heaviness

Limbs listless

Flagging with effort and exhaustion

Her mind dank with dread

Heart shredded and asunder

Soul decimated and desolate

Cloaked in wretchedness and woe

Path unclear

Shrouded in shadows

A dank darkness closing in

as she stumbles in the thicket of stones and naked roots

Sleep washes over her

A comforting wave of release and rejuvenation

Rays of yellow drench her awaking

A sense of rebirth and renewal surrounds her

A vivication

Her eyes enlighten upon a vessel of vindication

A deliverance from doom

Seizing the moment, she cries out:

“Have you come for me?”

#FWF Free Write Friday: Time & Place Scenario

Another great one from divine Kellie Elmore!

The Inner Voice

On August 21, 2014 By buildingalifeofhopeIn Independent Woman8 Comments

The only tyrant I accept is my inner voice

~Mahatma Ghandi

Credit: www.starseeds.net

How often do you act on your instincts? Pay attention to messages from the universe? Rely on some form of faith?

As many of you know, I am in the midst of a life-changing transition. The first in seven years. The latter was devastating, not only for me but for my then teenage sons as well. It forever put our lives into a BEFORE/AFTER demarcation. We spent years healing, moving forward, readjusting and creating. Breathing out, breathing in and building an entirely different existence. Growing up and getting stronger.

I have spent more time away from my home this summer than I have been there. My job has allowed me the “luxury”, if you will. Leaving and then coming back has provided me with a fresher perspective and perception of my hometown of 25 years. I came back ready to let go. So for this season, I am sowing the seeds for a new life in a new location. A totally different climate and landscape. A bit more crowded. Dotted with big box stores in places instead of pine trees and oaks and maples. But the tiny backyard has a view of a verdant city park with bike and running trails and the warm gulf beach is just 2 miles away. And the street is amazingly quiet. I am having fun “exploring” even though I have been traveling here regularly for over 5 years. Now I am setting down the routes and roots for a simpler life.

Yes. A simpler life was the first message I heard. The first sentence I said out loud when my man and I decided to get married. Since then, I have been shedding reminders and responsibilities that only served to crowd and complicate my everyday existence. Boxes and boxes of items donated or tossed and even set aflame. Decisions about the house. Rent? Sell? In the coming months, the shelter will be the focus of some very serious discussions and resolutions. Changes to the neighborhood have brought this to bear. In this regard, I have patiently waited for cosmic messages and definitely relied on my gut. Because of this, I have been able to think clearly, protect myself and rely on the expertise of others. I feel prepared and not blind-sided-so unlike seven years ago when I was an emotional wreck. However, I am not going to pretend that it is going to be an easy process; I just know that I won’t be or feel alone.

After a period of contemplation and turning over, I have decided to change my career path as well. Still exploring what that might be but I am well certain that I will NOT be in the same field or in the same setting. I see this decision as another means to simplify my life and pursue opportunities that may bring forth the as yet unknown gifts that I hold in store. One thing I do know is that I want and still need to work ( I am a WICKED people person!) but not in a job that can suck away so much of my mental energy.

This interlude is a favorable time. A wide open space in which to develop a new niche, new friends. A place for myself as well as for my partner. The former is essential. I have honed my new found skills of independence and a solid inner life that is sure to serve me well in the coming years.

When my work day life resumes shortly, I hope to hold onto to this state of mind and heart. I’ll tend to the seeds of my summer sojourn and continue to bring forth the bounty in my last remaining year as a native of the north.