Saturday, August 30, 2014

{this moment}

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Friday, August 29, 2014


Reach for the stars they say. Reach for the moon. How about if I just reach for enough?

Who defines "enough"? When have I reached far enough? When can I stop reaching?

I'm tired, and more than a little done in by this week, but all I can seem to focus on is all the stuff I haven't done. All the stuff someone else thinks I should have done.

It's difficult when I can't make everyone happy or impressed with my accomplishments. I think I want their validation because I don't trust my own. I keep reaching waiting for someone to tell me I'm good enough, but the reality is even when that someone comes along and says it, I don't believe them, or at least not for long.

I think about all that reaching. All that need for hole filling. I change my reach. 

I reach for God instead. I forget all the time that His validation is all I need. That His love is the only thing I need to reach for.

By reaching for God I surpass the stars.

linking up with Five Minute Friday

Thursday, August 28, 2014

It happened during recess . . .

When I was in first grade I was one of the fastest runners in my class. That's a big deal in the 1st grade. 

We had a merry go round on the playground and the fastest runners would get in the middle to push it for everyone else and then jump up on the bars to ride. One day while showing off my prowess I tripped over a root that ran under the merry go round. My left leg flew up at an awkward angle connecting with the metal bar and man, oh man did it hurt.

I began to cry and a friend helped me over to our teacher who was supposed to be supervising us on the playground. Mrs. Cole told us to walk across campus to the nurse's station and let her have a look at my leg. I tried to hop on my right foot and hold my left foot up, but I wasn't very good at that, especially since I am left-handed, and at that age I was pretty much left-"sided"! 

My sister, who was in 4th grade, says she heard me scream as she was walking back from lunch, so she and her best friend came to check on me. 

I attended a private school that offered first grade through college on a large sprawling campus. My dad had taught in the high school and had recently moved to the college to teach, so we were relatively well-known by a wide variety of people. 

As my sister and friends hovered around me trying to figure out how to get me to the nurse, a strapping high school boy (a football player, no less!) came to my rescue, picking me up, he carried me to the nurse's station. Oh what sweet relief!

The nurse put me on an exam table and I suppose checked my leg. She then transferred me to a bed in a dark room with no windows, behind her desk. Leaving the door cracked she went and called my mother. I overheard her tell my mother my leg might be broken. I have no idea what else was said. All I could of think of was broken toys and what we did with them. WE THREW THEM AWAY! 

As I lay waiting for my mother I worried and worried over what this would mean. Was I doomed? Was only my leg doomed? Would I only have one leg from now on? It didn't hurt that much now that I wasn't walking on it. Maybe the mean, red-headed nurse in all the white clothes was wrong. 

My parents arrived and I went to a doctor (not my usual one) and they took x-rays. They told me my leg was broken, and I began to weep. Suddenly there were assurances that everything would be okay. They were going to wrap my leg in special stuff and I'd get to use crutches and everyone would help me and be extra nice.

Once we got home, people came by to visit and they brought me GIFTS! Books and flowers and toys. Maybe this was going to be okay.

I wore that heavy plaster cast for 6 weeks. They gave me a special dispensation at school and allowed me to wear pants because of my injury, and every day a different student was assigned to be my helper, to carry my books and lunch and open doors for me. I got to go talk with other classes about being careful on the playground.

I was a celebrity! 

And they didn't throw me away.

linking up with Writer's Workshop

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

DIY Starbucks

linking up with Wordless Wednesday

Therapy and Haircuts

Tuesdays are therapy day. I see my counselor once a week as we continue unwinding my history. It's a good news, bad news scenario. I'd like to say I always feel better after that meeting, but of course I don't. Like yesterday, I thought we were going to talk about one thing, but in the middle of it things shifted to something different. Something I've never talked about much with anyone, because I'm ashamed of how strongly I feel about it.

I've been pregnant twice and given birth to 2 beautiful, healthy children. They are all grown-up now at 24 and 21. I used to joke that I'm bad at pregnancy, but at least I make great kids. 

The reality is there is some really deep pain with those difficult pregnancies. I felt like a failure because here was the most natural thing in the world -- bringing new life into the world -- it's what my body was made for -- and yet, I struggled with it both times. So much so that my ob/gyn practically begged me to never get pregnant again after my son was born. 

I spent a lot of my life feeling like a failure. An outsider. The one who didn't get the instruction manual. Now, at 52, I understand that much of that feeling was the result of the abuse I suffered as a child. But it's also from the resulting relationships I built after missing out on some basic sequential development. Abuse stunts development. Survivors go on growing physically, and we do a really good job of masking and pretending we're just like everyone else, but there's significant damage that's been done, and left alone it festers and grows. 

Yesterday I opened up another chapter to look at and understand pain and loss. It caught me off guard, and I sat sobbing trying to explain between gasps that while I felt better about what we had been talking about to begin with, a whole new area of pain had opened up in the process. My therapist looked at me and let me explain. She sat back and listened and we regrouped. Made some new plans and she gave me homework. 

I left her office still trying to calm the tears, but I didn't really try to hide it and I didn't internally run from the feelings. Instead I sat in my car and thought about what had happened and what I needed now. I took care of myself and made a plan.

Later in the day I had a hair appointment. I'm blessed with a stylist who is smart and caring, and for good or ill a survivor herself. It's another mixed bag having a hair appointment on therapy day. I had another round of discussions with her. Mostly about different things, but still intense. And here's the thing -- it was good. I got a clear cut reminder that I'm not alone in my fear and insecurities. We laughed about scheduling hair appointments for any other day in the future, but it might have been a blessing yesterday.

So today I'm feeling a bit wrung out and I didn't sleep well, but I still feel better. I took something out and looked at it. I'm not carrying it by myself anymore and that is always a good thing.

linking up with Just Write

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . August 26, 2014

Outside my window . . . there is blue sky with big, fat, fluffy, white clouds. It's 76* degrees but I'm sure it's gonna get a lot hotter! Think the dog days of summer.

I am thinking . . . about weight and exercise. There's been a great deal of discussion on those topics of late, and I'm trying to determine what I really want to do about trying to get more serious about losing some weight, while figuring out what a new exercise routine might look like.

I am thankful . . . for a good weekend. Time spent with friends and family. A good worship service on Sunday. Meeting some new people at church. And the obligatory and enjoyable Sunday afternoon nap.

In the kitchen . . . things are quiet mostly. Casual eating at it's finest. A lot of scrounging (as we call it) and very little planning.

I am wearing . . . a gown that I made from a sheet.

I am creating . . . a new lifestyle. That sounds rather impressive, but it's really more about a new time in my life and how to use that time wisely.

I am going . . . to an appointment in a bit and then to run some errands. Later today I get to see my hairstylist (doesn't that sound fancy!) for a much needed cut.

I am wondering . . . about motives. My own and others. How we get to the places and choices we do and what drives them. How often am I aware of my own true motives?

I am reading . . . Breakfast with Buddha by Roland Merullo. I'm not sure who recommended this one, but I found it for free on a Kindle sale and downloaded it. I've only read 12% (Kindle equivalent of pages) but it's pretty good so far.

I am looking forward to . . . the return of the autumn routine. I say this every summer late in August. I grew up with a professor father so my whole life has revolved around the school calendar. I'm not sure how I will cope once I don't have anyone around my house in school!

I am hearing . . . Yaya snoring. It's post breakfast nap time.

Around the house . . . the bestie and I worked on clearing out bathroom cabinets. I don't know how it happens, but if I don't do this every 6 months or so my cabinets are crammed full of duplicates and products someone tried and didn't like.

I am praying . . . about writing. That may sound like an odd thing to pray over, but I'm contemplating this idea of a memoir and how I would even go about it.

One of my favorite things . . . is candles. I love to keep a candle burning in the kitchen while I'm around the house. During the winter months I tend to burn them all over the house for extra light and warmth.

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . appointment and errands today. Wednesday dd is coming over to do some cleaning for me (it's not completely altruistic -- think symbiotic). Thursday is looking like a day to myself -- I should plan something fun. Then on Friday dh needs some snacks (pigs in blankets) for work and I have a dentist appointment. Saturday dh and I are planning a day together as he doesn't have class, and then Sunday it's back to church.

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 
flowers from dh for out 29th anniversary this past Saturday

Monday, August 25, 2014

Writing Memoir

People have been telling me to do it for years. I've wanted it finished for years. A memoir. The telling of my history. Not because I'm famous or have done something amazing, but because I have a story to tell (just like everyone does), and it would feel good (and maybe help someone else?) to have it neatly chronicled and available for perusal.

I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I just finished reading Emily Wierenga's Atlas Girl -- a lyrical memoir of her life thus far. She is blessed to have relationships that made it possible to seek her family's help in writing her story.

I do not have that. While it would be beneficial to gain information from my extended family regarding my history, that is not something we discuss. We don't discuss much of anything on the rare occasions when we do meet. 

Part of the problem in writing in memoir is how to handle the inevitable collateral damage. Other people will be impacted -- maybe even hurt -- by the telling of my story. And I don't want there to be anymore damage done.

The other, and perhaps more troubling, aspect of memoir writing for me is going through it all again. I see myself spreading out all of my journals and printing off everything in my computer. Reading through all of it again and trying to find a sequence and order for it. What I can't fathom is how to do all that without getting sucked into it again. How to focus on it well enough to write a book -- A BOOK! -- and not become so horrified, absorbed, and depressed by it all that I don't lose what I've gained. 

So I'm asking for a favor in all of this rambling. Will you pray for me? Will you ask God to tell me what He wants me to do? Will you ask Him to guide and protect me if writing a memoir is His plan?

I don't ask for help very often. Rarely irl and almost never here in this spot, but I could you use your support and prayers. So thank you.


Saturday, August 23, 2014

{this moment}

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Friday, August 22, 2014

:: Change

Things change. It's a fact of life. Like the line in "Finding Nemo" where the dad promises he won't let anything ever happen to Nemo. Ridiculous. Things happen. Things change. Without change there would be no living.

That doesn't mean it's not difficult sometimes. Embracing changes can be hard, even the good ones. 

We're going through changes around our house. Our daughter recently got a full-time job and moved into her first apartment. Her bedroom's not "hers" anymore. It's the guest room now. That's going to take a bit of getting used to, but I'm embracing the fun of a bit of redecorating while she's embracing some new and much deserved freedom.

Our son is going to college here in town this year and will be living at home. Mostly a good thing and nice having him around, but it is a struggle sometimes for mom and dad and a 21 year old to figure out boundaries.

Alan is moving from grad school classes to practicum and internship. Not a huge shift, but a shift nonetheless.

And me. I'm not sure. More writing time I hope. Crafting. A new style of homemaking as the demographics change around here. Who knows, maybe a part time job is in my near future.

Change is unavoidable. I choose to embrace it and assume positive thoughts as I look ahead.

linking up with Five Minute Friday

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Barns, Wire, and Healing

It happened again last night. We were watching an old episode of "The Mentalist". It's one of my favorite programs. I am drawn to damaged heroes, go figure.

Jane and Cho are in a sub-basement where 3 skeletons have been discovered. They are investigating and I am intrigued with where the story will go. Jane points out wire wrapped around one of the victim's wrist. And that's when it starts. He wants outside and so do I. 

I look at Alan, but he hasn't noticed. I begin to slow my breathing. I'm relieved as they show Jane walk up the stairs and out into the sunlight. He inhales deeply, raising his arms to the sun. The camera pans back to show he's come out of a barn with the Red John symbol painted on it. But I am stuck on that barn. Looking out over a field. And the realization, just before Jane has it, that he only thinks he's safe there in the sunlight.

I've been in a barn with wire twisted around my wrist to hold me still. I've been desperate to escape the barn and flee into the sunlight, believing I will be safe there. It was all just a bit too familiar.

I kept breathing and reminding myself that, yes, there were lots of reminders here, but I want to watch these characters, and death was not my fate that day. I become intrigued again in the show, but I also start playing solitaire on my phone -- a basic escape, coping mechanism for me. I realize I'm following the episode, but not. And I accept that I may have to watch it again later, but I'll skip the scene in the barn, much the way my son always skips the opening scenes in "Disturbia" so he' doesn't have to see them again. To be wounded by them again. 

And I realize I'm am learning to cope with this history of mine. I'm controlling it much more than it is controlling me. Maybe that's what they meant by healing all those years ago. 

linking up with Just Write

Five Years

linking up with Wordless Wednesday

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . August 19, 2014

Outside my window . . . it is overcast and breezy. Currently 75* and heading into the 90s.

I am thinking . . . about changes around the house. Dd moved out last week and I have some empty spaces to work with now. 

I am thankful . . . for our safe trip and that all went well here while we were gone.

In the kitchen . . . a trip to the grocery is in order today. We've been making do since we got home late Saturday night, so it's time to organize menus for the week.

I am wearing . . . a white cotton gown.

I am creating . . . a crocheted rug for my bedroom.

I am going . . . to continue organizing from the trip and playing around with some ideas for the house.

I am wondering . . . about this new time in my life and how I want to use it.

I am reading . . . Atlas Girl by Emily Wierenga. This is a memoir of her life thus far. It is lyrically written and has been totally engrossing.

I am looking forward to . . . going to help dd in her new apartment tomorrow! I haven't even seen it yet, but with being out of town and working around her work, it looks as if I'll get there tomorrow to help out a bit.

I am hearing . . . silence.

Around the house . . . things are still a bit messy from our return, but I should be able to put that into better order fairly quickly.

I am praying . . . for a friend who had an accident yesterday, another friend whose child is in the hospital for her appendix, and a friend's mother who is having a cardiac procedure today.

One of my favorite things . . . is color. The older I get the more important color is to me. I love surrounding myself with bits of bright colors in unexpected ways and places.

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . grocery and housework today, the annual "girly" appointment tomorrow, a meeting on Thursday, and Saturday is our 29th wedding anniversary. Wow, how did that happen so fast!?!

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 

dh on the plane

Monday, August 18, 2014


We spent a week diving in Bonaire. 

I'm still recovering from our vacation, but I did have a few thoughts flit through my head at various moments that I wanted to share before they were lost to the din of daily of life.

Alan is a photographer. He especially loves underwater photography. Unfortunately on this trip he had a few technical difficulties so there aren't as many photos as usual. On one of our last dives (I'm not sure which as they all run together for me) it occurred to me that this time I would just "be" in the moment of the dives. There might not be photos to help me remember things, but by the same token, without photos as a goal I became less focused on finding the right fish or coral formation to point out for a photo op. Instead it became about seeing things and trying to store them away for the future.

This may not be a great revelation for you, but it was for me. I tend to live my life looking forward so much so that I miss out on the now. 

I approached this vacation with some reticence because on our last dive vacation things didn't go well for me. I was really worried I'd have the same ear problems as last time, or that I would just decide I didn't like diving after all. Neither of those things happened. What did happen was I told Alan exactly how I was feeling, above and below the water. I didn't try to second guess what he wanted from me. I did things I like to do (naps by the pool, for example) without guilt or worrying about what he would think.

The fascinating thing to me is how much more fun I had just by letting go. I don't think of myself as a controlling person. I don't try to control other people, but I do try to control situations. It's a safety mechanism that lingers from my childhood experiences. And I let go of some of that on this trip. 

I hope I'll have some pictures to share in the next few days as Alan edits the ones he was able to get. We saw some amazing things -- lion fish, iguana, lizards, cave drawings, goats, and lots of donkeys! We ate some great food, and did our usual enjoyment of desserts, especially ice cream. 

We came home still liking each other which is always a good thing, but especially so this time as dd moved while we gone. Yes, we knew it was happening, but it was still a bit surreal to come home and find her bedroom practically empty. She is settling into her first apartment and full-time job, and we are acclimating to the realization that she doesn't live her anymore. It's a good thing all around, but it feels very different.

Rambling a bit today, but I wanted to say hi and share.

Thanks for all of you who read and comment. You are a blessing.

Saturday, August 16, 2014

{this moment}

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Friday, August 15, 2014

:: tell

I've been on both sides.

I've been the one being told, but I've also been the one needing to tell.

I've heard those words -- It's just not worth the pain and I think I'd rather be dead.

I've said those words -- I don't think I can do this anymore. 

Here's what I've learned from both sides -- tell someone, anyone. Telling is at the very least part of the answer, maybe the most important part of the equation.

When I was told, I had that momentary panic of saying the wrong thing. The reality is it's less about what I say and more about how I listen.

When I told I got good listening, but I got some really good words too. The one that resonated with me was "Don't do that to your kids. Don't let that be your legacy." But I also remember humor from another a friend I told -- "If you don't get it right, think of all the guilt you'll have." 

Different words mean different things, and we can't all say the exact right words in every moment. If you're feeling overwhelmed and like it just isn't worth it anymore, tell somebody, anybody, especially one person you trust, and tell Him over and over and over again. He loves you. He gave you this life, and He wants you to live this life. 

If someone honors you by telling you, love them. Love them the way He loves you and them. Love them the way you'd want to be loved. Realize the honor of being that person. The one they could tell.

And while you're at it, tell everyone you care about how you feel about them. You never know.

linking up with Five Minute Friday

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Shore Dives

Write about a time you tried something new

All week long I've been trying something new, and I think, I think, I got it right yesterday.

Alan and I are in Bonaire this week. Bonaire is an island off the coast of South America that is known for it's beautiful scuba diving opportunities. Reefs filled with coral and anemones and all kinds of ocean flora, and an abundance of sea life. I have floated through schools of fish that look as if it's raining fish!

The big difference on this trip is all that all of our dives have been shore dives instead of boat dives. On a boat dive the crew takes you out into the ocean, helps you into yours gear (which they've loaded onto the boat), and then they help you "Jacques Cousteau" off the side of the boat (basically fall into the water backwards). After you're done with the dive, the dive master sends up a flag or buoy and the boat comes and picks you up. The crew helps you out of yours gear and stores in on the boat. Then they pass out snacks and water while you go to your next dive site.

Shore dives, on the other hand, are all on your own. Alan is a dive master (80+ dives), so he's got us covered on all the important knowledge, which is great since I'm still a novice open water diver (26 dives). But we have to do all the prep and finish work. So we load up the truck with all the gear -- tanks, BCDs (dive vests/flotation devices), scuba suits, weight belts,  booties, fins, masks and snorkels, regulators, rash guards, and our own snacks. We drive to a designated dive site, park, and suit up. Then we walk across the beach and into the surf where we put on our fins, do a safety check, and submerge for the dive. It's Alan's job to navigate and keep up with depth and air consumption (although I have a dive watch and air gauge that I watch closely). After the dive is completed, he has to make sure we get back to the location we parked. There are no roadsigns in the ocean -- it's all done with a compass and visual markers. Let me tell you, it all looks pretty much the same to me down there!

The diving has been great. I've been reminded out much I love being in the underwater world. But entrances and exits have been a real challenge. I float like a cork. And dealing with the waves crashing around me as I walk in carrying roughly 60 lbs. of additional weight has been crazy hard. I've been slammed into rocks, fallen down, let the waves wash me up onto the beach. Whatever it took to get back in.

Yesterday Alan taught me a new technique for getting in and out of the ocean. We crab walked in, facing each other while holding hands. Then I put my snorkel in and laid flat in the water and let him put my fins on me. Much better! For me anyway. Actually it was easier on him too. Better than watching me flail around in borderline panic mode. The exit went just as smoothly. I even made it all the way back to the truck in all my gear instead of shedding it in bits and pieces once I hit land.

We're going out this morning for our last 2 dives for this trip and I'm actually pretty excited to try out my technique again. Kudos to Alan for being a real "dive buddy" on this trip! He's worked hard to help me get more comfortable, and it's really paying off.

Try something new, even if it seems scary and hard. The payoff is awesome!

linking up with Writer's Edge

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . August 12, 2014

Outside my window . . . I see palm trees and the pool outside our room in Bonaire. It's 81* heading up to a high in the mid 80s. Part sun and clouds with a nice ESE breeze that keeps it pleasant.

I am thinking . . . that "vacation" means different things to different people. Dh and I always have to negotiate a bit. He likes to go-go-go, and I like to go-rest-go-rest-go-rest!

I am thankful . . . that we arrived here safely and I am minimal trouble with my ears -- just using lots of Sudafed and a bit of Afrin as the allergist recommended.

In the kitchen . . . what kitchen!?! Actually we do have a fridge in our room as well as a hot water pot, so have yummy snacks, tea, and stuff for breakfast if we so choose.

I am wearing . . . my gown right now, but soon it will be back into my swimsuit and wet suit for more diving.

I am creating . . . memories! Beautiful experiences and memories with my dh. So glad he's a photographer so we will have evidence of some of these.

I am going . . . to Alice in Wonderland and Pink Beach for diving. So far we have done Yellow Submarine, Cha Cha Beach, Bachelor Beach, and Angel City/Hilma Hooker. 

I am wondering . . . what today's dives will show us?

I am reading . . . Atlas Girl by Emily Wierenga. This is a memoir of her life thus far. It is lyrically written and has been totally engrossing.

I'm also reading How the Light Gets In by Louise Penny.

I am looking forward to . . . more dives today and then a quiet evening by the pool while dh goes on a night dive.

I am hearing . . . dh chattering about today's dives. He's like a kid at Christmas once he's in diving mode!

Around the house . . . this is what's apparently happening
Yaya has bonded with dd's cat, Isabeau!

I am praying . . . for out continuing safety. Prayers of thanksgiving for Kent Brantly. Prayers of comfort for the family in Oregon who's wife/daughter/mother killed herself, as well as for Robin William's family.

One of my favorite things . . . is a good vacation. I've had good ones and bad ones. Good is always better.

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . diving, diving, and more diving!

Here is a picture for thought I am sharing . . . 
striking a pose for dh at Cha Cha Beach

Saturday, August 9, 2014

{this moment}

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Friday, August 8, 2014

:: fill

I make stacks of clothes and toiletries to fill my suitcase. I fill my carry-on bag with my computer and books and Kindle. 

I fill my belly with food and my hands with crafting supplies.

I fill my mind with stories and movies and documentaries and music.

But what do I fill my heart with? Are those stories and books and movies what I my heart longs for? 

Not really. 

My heart longs to be filled with Spirit. With connection. With affirmation. With love. 

As I head out tomorrow on a new adventure to a new place, what do I want that adventure to be filled with most of all? 

Peace, contentment, joy, and love. Anything else is just icing on my cake of life.

Oh, Lord, as I leave on this adventure I pray for Your guiding hand. For Your protection. Mostly I pray for an open heart to be filled with what You have in store for me. Fill me up!

linking up with (the new) Five Minute Friday

Thursday, August 7, 2014

6 things you're going to miss about summer

. . . wait! Is summer over!?!?

Oh that's right it is for many kids and parents who live in the south. Rumor has it our northern and western friends got the memo about proper school schedules -- School begins the day after Labor Day and ends before Memorial Day -- really it's not that hard, people.

Anyway summer's not over for me yet, since my daughter's a college graduate and my son is in college (Not my circus. Not my monkeys, anymore!)

But I’ll be nice and play along anyway.

1.   Swimming at the outdoor pool. I enjoy swimming for exercise, with this proviso, only if I get the reward of lounging in the sun reading my book afterwards. Hence, indoor pools are not my faves.

2.   When in doubt, grilled hotdogs are a perfectly acceptable dinner. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for boiled or microwaved (at least not in my house).

3.   Flipflops. I really need there to be a winter version of this shoe. Clogs are a pretty good substitute, but they require socks, and remembering to put on socks AND shoes is an awful lot of responsibility.

4.   Walking out the door with only my purse. I know, I know, I shouldn’t complain about having to put on a coat. After all I don’t have to wrangle children who seem to function like octopi in this arena. Still it is nice to just grab the bag (and slip on the flipflops) as I head to the car.

5.   Fresh tomatoes. There is simply nothing as wonderful as a real tomato. Grown in the open air, on a vine until it is ripe. A fresh tomato is the greatest of summer’s gifts!

6.   Late sunsets. I LOVE having the sun with me until 8:00 at night. I like evening walks, and the lovely evening light that continues in the through windows after dinner. I like getting sleepy even though it’s still light outside and know that it’s okay. I really don’t want to go back to 4:30 sunsets.

So there they are. The 6 things I’ll miss about summer. The good news from my house is that I’ve still got several more weeks of summer to enjoy (as God intended!).

(We’re heading out for summer vacation on Saturday, so if it’s quiet here for a bit don’t panic. I’ll be back!)

linking up with Writer’s Workshop

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Just Write

Just write the prompt says.

That's how I process most things. I write it out until I feel better, or understand better, or see more clearly.

But sometimes . . . sometimes writing doesn't come. I avoid writing about the hard stuff, because maybe no one else will think it's hard. Maybe someone will laugh at me. Maybe no one will understand.

Last week was that way. It's not that I didn't have anything to write about, I just didn't know how to say it and feel safe. 

I write about a lot of difficult things in this space. I write about a lot of good things here as well. I'm pretty open (some might say ridiculously so), but even I have limits. For me it's usually about collateral damage. I can say whatever I want to about myself. I can say whatever I want to about the abusers because I don't name names. What I can't (won't) do is talk about people currently in my life and the tough stuff that happens with them sometimes, even if it's tied up in healing from abuse. 

Last week was one of those weeks when the tough stuff with the people I love the most was all I could think about, and little or no processing seemed to be happening. The truth is processing was going on, it was just really difficult. I am an extremist. People are good or bad -- there is no continuum. There are only absolutes. I recognize that's something I need to work on, and I am, but it still gets in the way sometimes. 

When someone I love and trust does something that hurts, and I can't make it understood why it hurts, I fall back into old routines and patterns. Extremes. That's a bad place to be. 

So last week was a quiet week, and maybe that's okay. Maybe I don't have to share every single struggle in this space. That's another issue for me -- does incomplete disclosure equal lying? I know the answer, but sometimes (when things are tough) I fall back into old beliefs. We all do. The key is to face those thoughts and beliefs head on with facts, truth, and evidence. Challenge those patterns.

I've done some challenging over the past couple of days. Verbally. With trusted confidantes. And I'm feeling a bit less extreme, and more centered. 

So I sit down at my computer and just write.

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