Gayle's profileGayle's Joy in LifePhotosBlogListsMore  |  Tools Help |
The Shrink Has Spoken...Well, really it was the intake nurse, but more on that in a moment. The little one took a few medals in the debate tournament this past weekend, so I'm a very proud Momma. Her coach from summer debate camp has told her it's time to move up to the varsity level - quite an accomplishment for the beginning of only her 2nd season. Watching her jump on the stage and hug her fellow medal winners was so affirming for me. As for me, it's official; my current wrestling with the total discomfort and lackluster state of my Life has been diagnosed - menopause. I felt so misunderstood, so inconsequential when I read the piece of paper that contained the verdict. Am I really being thrown completely off-balance by the most natural of processes? I certainly knew I wasn't suffering from one of the more severe psychological maladies, but just plain ole' aging. What a hoot - seems the joke is on me. It doesn't really change the landscape, though. I'm still climbing uphill. Still have lots of decisions to make, changes to take on, demons to drive off. Somehow, though, it makes much of my fretting seem completely absurd and allows me the freedom to laugh at the ridiculousness of taking Life so seriously. So much kindness from blogland, too; patience beyond comprehension. Those of you who left a word made my heart sing a little - thank you. Amazing how many of us are asking the same/similar questions and pushing for our answers. (And Lynnie, dearheart, I know I have to look inside for my answers. I was just having a hard time trusting that I would find them). Today, as you can see, is a good day. Here's hoping it lasts a minute or two longer. But, just in case I slip back into my funk, it's nice to know that there are a few shoulders to lean on, open ears willing to listen and strong, caring people who will come around to tell me their truth. I'll try and catch you before the week is done. Until then... What's It All About, Alfie?First let me apologize for being away sooooo long. It was an unexpected departure, due to an overburdened schedule. The adolescent had me running between debate tournaments, soccer games/practice, and birthday parties. Whew! Poor thing had a meltdown two days ago because she was stressed out and exhausted and still had math and social studies projects to finish and a French assignment requiring show-and-tell progress but only 2.5 hours to complete it all. That meltdown made me reconsider this lifestyle she and I have. Full of activity, pressure and stress. I want to teach her to cultivate a life of balance and productivity, peace and strength. How do I accomplish that if the example I set is of a Life that seems to be filled with doing, doing, doing? I always thought that work should be fulfilling and well managed. And, up until a about five years ago, it was. Now, the lives we lead are just crammed full of stuff. Or my Life is, and I don't see enough time to support her Life. Where is the time for this Mom to help her precious one sort through the stuff of Life? I get a little closer each day to chucking the job, the house, all the things that don't seem to make sense to me anymore. Just pack up the ole kit bag and take it on the road. I don't know if it's maturity or fear that keeps me planted in place. Or maybe I'm just rushing the inevitable because everything will change (Great song and if I could figure out how to put music on this space I would and give you a delicious ear treat). I've begun to whisper a few essential questions to my heart... How do I teach my child freedom if I'm a slave to my mortgage? How do I model Love if I'm angry so much of the time? How, how, how did things come to be set-up this way and why do we let ourselves run on this treadmill? Then again, maybe it's just me not understanding how to take the joys that I have and make them the largest things in my Life. Perhaps I need a mental adjustment. But, the more I read about road rage and children being shot to death in schools by fellow human beings or harassed in the halls of Congress, the more I think that maybe it's not just me. Maybe something is very, very wrong and needs to be fixed. Maybe more Life needs to be breathed into the way we live and work, into the things we value so we are less like serfs on the lord-and-lady's land and more Like free men and women. Maybe we need brighter colors and softer textures so that we can tell when one of our own is about to lose his or her marbles and start a killing spree. Maybe we're missing something primal and maybe we'd better open our eyes. It could be that I'm just a twisted sister, furious at the world around her and biting the hand that feeds. It is a possibility that I am just ungrateful; living in the greatest spot on earth and still pointing out so much pain and suffering, still clamoring for it to stop. It could be that I just don't know when I've got it good. But I want to look on the bright side, I want to walk again in the Eternal Sunshine. I just can't pretend to be blind; can't ignore this pain that seems to have moved into my Life. It makes everything crisper, clearer; puts the days I spend in focus, organizing them, sorting them and adding them up. I don't want to tell you how they sum. See, I know there is more. There has to be more than this grind-full-of-bumps Life (told you I was ungrateful). More than standing in the middle of the road wondering how come no one else seems to think it smells foul, like some animal has died nearby and needs a proper burial. Can't anyone else hear the thud of the mind as it shuts down from months and years of meaningless work, or the screams of the poor, pleadings of the homeless? Can't you see the tired women living below the poverty line (working 2 shifts whenever they can get it), the rage of the men who beat them, the sadness of the friends who take them in for the night and then send them back (because that's where they say they want to go)? Am I the only one whose heart aches at these sounds? There has to be another road, a higher one for us. There has to be. For me and mine, I want a road that leads to something better for ourselves, for those we touch and for those we may never know. Some path that acknowledges the soul and opens to it. I know it's out there. I know it 'cause once-upon-a-time I was walking it. I just need to figure out which of these roadside markers is the one that will point me in my soul's direction. I've walked so far, in so many circles, I'm a bit disoriented. But, I'll find it because the sound I hear above the din of madness is the sweet longing of my soul for Life, for Peace, for Love. I'm pretty sure it's not singing alone, there's a chorus of folk searching. Maybe you're one. If you know the way send up a flair... One thing I do know, without any doubt, is that things are going to change; that's guaranteed. later gators p.s. Monday, October 9th, is my 1-year blogging anniversary! How about that? |
|
|
