Imperfect Prose

I want to have something inspiring to share today, but instead I have a lot of stress and concerns about some highly personal things. Things it would be inappropriate to share here. Things that aren't just mine. 

It's a new year. The time for fresh starts and new beginnings. The hope of getting it right this year. Clearing rubble from relationships. What I seem to be facing instead, are new and deeper layers of ick to excavate. Things keep piling on top of each other, and I can’t seem to catch a break.

This may sound like I’m complaining, but that’s not what this is about. I’m not complaining. I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I keep thinking this life is meant to get easier. Develop a rhythm that is consistent and dependable. That hasn’t happened for me. And I don’t know if that’s a “me” problem or a “life” problem.

I don’t really believe my life should flow effortlessly. I recognize that the more people I know and the more fully engaged I become in life, the more opportunities there are for challenges. That being said, I’m floundering a bit right now.

I’ve written a lot about overcoming my past – the abuse. But I’m also a black/white kind of person, or as a friend of mine recently said, one extreme or the other. The question that’s been rolling around in my head lately is this – because things are difficult now, in this moment, does that negate the hard work – dare I say good work – I’ve done in the past? Does struggling now mean the previous hard work was done incorrectly, or worse yet was it pointless?

My head knows the answers to these questions. We all do the best we can at any given moment with whatever information we have. Could things have been done differently? Undoubtedly. Would it have been better or more right? Maybe. Who can say?

This is what I know today. God is with me. I must continue to see and believe that as truth. I will make mistakes in the future just as I have in the past. There are no absolutes.

So I’m asking for your prayers. For me, my husband, my kids. It’s tough when everyone is struggling simultaneously, and that’s where we are. My guess is you’ve been there, too.

Imperfect Prose is perfectly apt for me today.

Blessings.

linking up with Imperfect Prose

The Simple Woman's Daybook

FOR TODAY . . . January 7, 2014

Outside my window . . . there is a light dusting of snow which is now frozen solid as we sit at 9 degrees. Yes 9 degrees in Nashville, TN. I checked yesterday and it was warmer in Canada where I have friends than in Nashville. It is warmer in Lausanne, Switzerland than it is right now in Nashville. Rant over.

I am thinking . . . about the movie "The Day After Tomorrow".

(only half joking)

I am thankful . . . for my warm house and electricity, hot tea, and lots of crocheted afghans and shawls.

In the kitchen . . . tonight is pork tenderloin, a new rice recipe, succotash, and hot rolls.

I am wearing . . . my batiste gown, flannel robe, flannel slippers, a shawl, and have an afghan over my lap.

I am creating . . . a new scarf pattern I found yesterday -- Big Rib Scarf. I'm using shades of purple to do mine.

I am going . . . to stay home and do yoga. No bestie today as she had something come up.

I am wondering . . . how people survive difficulties without a relationship with God. I can't even begin to imagine.

I am reading . . . The House of Dies Drear by Virginia Hamilton. 

I am looking forward to . . . warmer weather! Winter in these parts usually means highs in the 40s and lows in the 20s for January. That's sounding pretty darn good right now.

I am hearing . . . the hum of electricity and the tapping of the keys on my laptop.

Around the house . . . I'm going to work on reorganizing a closet today. The one we store all the Christmas decor in.

I am praying . . . for peace and contentment for my family. Warmth and safety for those who do not have a good place to be in this bitter cold.

One of my favorite things . . . is being complimented on my yarn creations. I wore a different shawl than usual on Sunday and got a nice compliment on it.

A few plans for the rest of the week . . . appointment tomorrow followed by a trip to Trader Joe's. Thursday is early morning yoga with CCD and then the first Precept class of the new year. LB is coming over Thursday afternoon for some crafting. On Sunday all of the Fun Girls and family are coming for dinner. Good week.

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

latest rosary made for a friend in PA

for more visit The Simple Woman's Daybook

{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.

Fight

fight -- to make (one's way) by struggle or striving

I do it every day, and you probably do as well. Sometimes just surviving requires us to fight. 

I don't like confrontation, so I don't like to think of myself as being in a fight. The flip side of that is the power and control that "fight" implies. If I am fighting for myself that can be a very good thing. 

It makes me thing of Ephesians 4:26 (NRSV) -- Be angry but do not sin.

Paul doesn't say "don't be angry". He says be angry but don't sin. 

Anger, confrontation, fight -- words I've had to work on loving and appreciating. They are not bad things if used well. 

Blessings!

linking up with Five Minute Friday

Ringing in the New Year

We are not big New Year's Eve people. Let me rephrase -- we are not New Year's Eve people. We are usually lazing on the sofa thinking of bed by 8:30 or 9:00.

Personally I've never understood the hoopla. The new year will come whether I'm there to greet it or not. I don't judge those who enjoy partying. If anything I'm a bit envious, but I just don't care enough to feel that badly the next day. And I'm an introvert. Crowds . . . {shiver}!

Tuesday night we ate dinner and lounged around on the sofa until our son came in around 8:30. Earlier in the day we had gotten the obligatory bottle of champagne and a couple of other items at the liquor store -- did I mention we don't really drink either?

We decided to save the champagne for mimosas on New Year's Day, but broke out the rum for some tropical beverages. Here's the thing, the pineapple thingy I tried was pretty good, except for that aftertaste that burned up in my nose. Oh yeah, that's the rum!

Shortly after this beverage I developed a terrible headache. Hmmmmm???? Anywho we were in bed shortly after 10 as per usual.

New Year's Day we were up and about close to our usual time. Puttering and chatting. I made us a our traditional New Year's Day lunch of cornbread & black eye peas, and this year switched up our spinach salad for sauteed kale and garlic (which I ruined, but let's not go there!), and we had a small batch of barbecued Little Smokies. And mimosas. Which were pretty good, except for the alcohol taste. 

This was the point at which my daughter looked at me (did I mention the sweet red wine we tried the night before?) and said, "I think the problem is we don't like alcohol." 

And here's the funny thing. I grew up in a tee-totaling environment. Absolutely no alcohol. I married a man who grew up with an alcoholic parent, so we've avoided alcohol. So I've always wanted to want to drink. It seems so grownup and sophisticated. But I just don't like it. I'm more of a sparkling grape juice and La Croix/orange juice kind of girl. 

So after experimenting this year, next year we'll go back to our usual sparkling juices for toasting in the new year. But it will still happen long before midnight.

Happy New Year!

linking up with Writer's Workshop

Surviving Them

It happened out of the blue, which is how it normally happens. I was going along, doing well, handling daily stresses. And then BOOM! It took me out.

I saw those words. Her name. I read it over and over again thinking I must be getting it wrong. I lost the ability to move or speak. I began berating myself. 

What is the appropriate response to seeing an abuser commenting on a post I am tagged in on Facebook? I didn't get the email explaining etiquette or protocol for this particular situation.

She is apparently friends with a couple of people I follow on Facebook. I hadn't seen anything by her previously. Sure I've stalked a bit to find out if any of them are on Facebook, but I never found any. I have my page locked down pretty tightly. So I thought I was safe.

Last Sunday she invaded my private cyber world of peace and joy. She robbed me of a few minutes of joy following a good walk and talk with my husband. Just seeing her name and then her face brought back all the panic and terror from years ago.

I told my husband. I journaled about it. I cried a little. I stressed about how to handle it. And I went back to believing I was the liar -- but only for a few minutes. I shifted into "wwmcs" mode (what would my counselor say). She would say -- "look at the visceral reaction you are having to just seeing her name. The physical expressions of the terror. You can't make that happen. This is a classic PTSD reaction to a trigger."

So I thought about what to do. I could climb in bed and pull the covers over my head for the rest of the day, or I could choose to acknowledge how upsetting this was, but not give her the power to take away my joy. I remembered a craft project I had been wanting to take care of, so I went and made it. A rosary I've been meaning to make for months. To send to a friend -- just because. As I picked out beads and a cross, and tested combinations of beads, I came back to myself. To the truth. This is who I am. I am a survivor. I am the one who picks herself up over and over again, even when they keep trying to knock me down.

And yes, on Monday, I sat in my counselor's office and I cried like a baby from fear and pain and loneliness. I cried for it happening all over again. I cried for not having people in my life that I want. I berated myself. But I got it out and found that I was still here. And I came home and blocked her name on Facebook and adjusted my privacy settings. 

I'm still here. Surviving.

Blessings!

New Year, New Calendar

linking up with Wordless Wednesday & The Jenny Evolution