When Money Is Not Enough

My typed words have been silent for a month now.

It would be wonderful to say I went to Hawaii after all with my friend,
Or that the new hunk-of-a-man in my life has taken priority,
Or that I am now famous and above blogging...

As you may have guessed none of these are very true.

What really happened is 3 jobs turning into twelve hour days.
I am now downsizing my life and work.


I have decided that there comes a point when money is not enough.

Yes, I know the economy is hurting and now may not be the best time to walk away from money and a job.
Bills still have to be paid in my crib.  And there has been no shortage of the "unexpecteds".

So I thought it might be best to compile a "sanity" budget along with my financial budget.
The bottom line is is that the psychotherapy I need from working so much (did I mention this is twelve hours with miniature insanity makers -children?) costs me way more than the income I am bringing in.
Couch sessions aren't cheap.  Even for cheapskates!


I am writing this lightly yet it is true that there are many things in life that not even American Express can make priceless.


I was losing my time and energy to do the things that contribute to my purpose here on
earth.
That in turn affects relationships namely the one I am nurturing within myself.


A budget helps us live within our means.
This has now come to include a budget within my mental and emotional means.

Just as I make cutbacks to save money on physical items I am making cutbacks to help me not fly over the cuckoo's nest.

It feels good. 
Oh, a little scary, but more-so comforting to know that someone is looking out for my overall best interest.  
It is wonderful that that someone is me.  I'm free-as in no charge!

 "The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak."  ~Hans Hofmann, Introduction to the Bootstrap, 1993

What About The Lumpy Dress?

What About The Lumpy Dress?
I have this dress that looks like a very long T-shirt.

Actually I have two of them.

I am not sure where I got them.
But I do know I had them for years without ever wearing them.

I would reveal too many flaws if I dared put one of them on.

So why do I still have them?
Because you do not get rid of things you may someday be able to fit into.

Guess what?
Yep, that's right.
I now wear both of them.
A lot!

Oh, I fit into them alright.
All thirty pounds or more of me that I have gained.
Talk about revealing flaws!
I can be on commercials for Quaker Oatmeal of what lumpy oatmeal looks like (in a dress).

At a time when I could of worn them and probably looked just fine, I self critically refused.
Now when I could be using some advice from What Not To Wear, I wear them anyway.

If I studied the bowlful of lumps in the mirror, that happens to be in the shape of me, it could make me never want to eat a bowl of oatmeal again (or wear those dresses).

But I don't.
Or I try hard not to.

Is that a good thing?
Well, it may not be for my children or neighbors but it works for me.

I am comfortable.
I am o.k. with me.

Do I want a less lumpy physique?
Yes, of course that would be nice.
But I do not want to dislike myself to get it nor do I want to worry about "what others will think".

This lumpy dress thing has been good therapy for me.

I don't want to get so comfortable that I quit worrying about my weight altogether,
but I do want to be so comfortable that I lose weight because it's a healthy thing, not a critical motivation.

Anyone for an oatmeal cookie?

"Some People Come Alive After They're Dead....

Just like when mummies stay in toilet paper a long time-they come back alive." ~R.T.  (5 yrs. old)

I'm not quite sure what image this little girl had when she made this comment.

I wondered if she had peeked in on my private world and was viewing me.

Forlorn and heartbroken.
Barely a heartbeat of desire-to-go-on left within me.
All wrapped in Kleenex (which could look like toilet paper to a child.)

And how after I had felt my heart die - I had come back to life.


I, like some people, had to lose my life as I knew it to come back alive.

I would not recommend this method of self actualization and yet for many of us it comes uninvited.
Through loss due to:  illness, finances, death, divorce, children (or lack of), dreams, addictions, love, and many more trials. 


What is our choice is whether we will revive that lost breath of hope.
THIS I do recommend!


That was over a dozen years ago for me.

On a small scale I think we are all given regular opportunities to shed the old us and come back alive as a new "me".

Are we using this chance wisely?
Are we exfoliating the things we don't like about us to make room for new growth/experiences we do want? 
Are we happy with who we are becoming?
Are we willing to eliminate or add to help that to happen?


Life is beautiful behind all that toilet paper!
(I wanted to say, "Let's leave all the crap behind." but I don't think that sounds very nice.  So I won't say it.)


Perhaps death in this form is the prescription we need to live!






"The resurrection gives my life meaning and direction and the opportunity to start over no matter what my circumstances."  ~Robert Flatt

It's A Party! B.Y.O.P. (Pity)

I put on an elaborate, red-carpet party a couple of weeks ago.

When I have these kind of parties I go all-out!


It lasted a good 2-3 hours.  (But I had a preview the night before too.)

I don't think I forgot anything.
There was weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth.


Background music by Ugly Cry.
Repeatedly singing, "Oh woe is me."


Decorations everywhere by Puffs.

It was a Big Pity Party!

The only other attendee was God.

I covered everything- going back in the archives, pulling out the micro fiche from my childhood even.


As with any good party, I was exhausted and relieved when it was all over.

It is healthy for me to do this once in awhile.

After I whine about my life and circumstances and feel sorry for myself I can wipe away the excess moisture, get out of bed (or off the floor), straighten my hair and start cleaning up.

It is then that I can see clearly:
All the ways that I have been blessed,
That it isn't as bad as I dramatized,
That some things (and people) in life are out of my control,
And that God was there all along.



I have found if I have these parties as needed (making sure I don't become a lifetime pity party) that I am less likely to have them in front of others.

That I am more able to sort out and deal with the challenges that ride on life's back - (like a flea infestation on a dog .)


So pity parties are a good thing
And you are more than welcome to come....

But you have to bring your own pity.

"Allow yourself a moment of grief when life's misfortunes visit you.  However, do not spend your days building a monument in honor of them."  ~Dodinsky, www.dodinsky.com

SERIES - #11 I Didn't Expect: To Meet My Father After 40 Years

Father's Day is an interesting day for me.

For most of my life I had never met nor ever even seen my father (except in some old pictures my mom had).

The meeting happened one day when his family (which would be my relatives too right?) was having a family reunion in the small town my sister lived in and her husband got wind that my father would be there.
(My father lives 1500 miles away.)

I don't remember exactly what I thought or felt at that time.

Once, when I was about 21 he was supposed to come to my home town and I set myself up with expectations to meet him but he never showed.
Looking back, I think it was a good thing because I would have been disappointed expecting that he would be the father I imagined but never had.


Now here over 20 years later, I had no expectations except to see what the man whose DNA I housed, looked like.
I was not bitter.
I was not excited.
I was anticipatory. 
I was open.

It was a strange feeling, almost embarrassing, as each man that looked like there was even a remote chance he could have fathered me, I would ask my brother-in-law, "Is that my dad?"
You know how people will say that all _____ people of a race all look the same?
Well, these people all looked the same!


What do you say to the man who created you but did not even know the date or year you were born?
To the man who was never around to help pay bills or support the family?
To the man whose place was taken by other well-meaning fathers who would take me under their wing and for a night be my "father" for the Father-Daughter-Dinner-Date?
To the man who had no branch on the family tree and how humiliating it was as a class project to be reminded of that?


You don't say anything to that man.


You address the man as a stranger you are meeting for the first time because that is what he is.


I know I may sound resentful.
But I am not.
There were times of that emotion growing up I'm sure, as reminders came up and I had to vocalize what I ignored for the most part.
"That I did not know who my dad was."
"That I didn't have a dad." 
But truth be told I did not know anything different, so mostly I was just stating facts not being upset.

We tried at establishing some sort of relationship as I know that all people make mistakes.
Everyone can change so I was open to accepting him into my life.


But after a year or two he, in my opinion had not learned to treat women with the respect that I believe a woman should be treated with.
So I no longer have contact with him.
I do not feel angry that nothing became of it.
Now that I am a parent, I count it as his loss.
That is sad to me, but I recognize we all have our agency to choose how we will live our lives.


So Father's Day does not mean anything to me regarding my father but it is still very meaningful to me.

I love to tell men (including my son) who are lovinginly active in their childrens lives how special they are.
And what a blessing they are not only to that child but to the world!


So to all you responsibly present fathers out there-HAPPY FATHER"S DAY!





"It is much easier to become a father than to be one."  ~Kent Nerburn, Letters to My Son: Reflections on Becoming a Man, 1994






 

The Cracker Shopper - A Parenting Parable

This post is an excerpt from an article I wrote for my school's newsletter.

Our school provides wheat crackers and milk everyday (along with water and an additional item) for the children's snack.  The staff takes turns being "The Cracker Shopper".

The first year I worked at the school and my rotation came around I closely watched the pantry supply, taking into consideration when the best time would be to shop.  I still had a son at home that was very involved in varying activities as well as the community work that I myself was doing, so timing was everything.  Because there is only one grocery chain that carries the crackers I carefully figured that destination in my errand loop.


One morning as I was preparing the snack, shortly after I had mentally made my date for the "shopping excursion", I was surprised and confused to see the pantry shelves already stocked with crackers.  Many thoughts crossed my mind as I wondered: if it was not my month to shop after all, had the cracker fairy come overnight or had I in my pre-Alzheimer's  state already done it and forgotten?  Those with more wisdom and years at the school suggested that someone had done it just to be helpful and nice.  Adding, that someone may have thought I had forgotten.  (Had I already started my absent-minded reputation?)

Trying to make myself feel better, that is what I told myself, but the truth was I still had on my goody-two-shoes-has-it-perfectly-all-together facade, trying to impress my new coworkers, so my "condition" was still under wraps.  But something happened to me that day that has stayed with me.

I became aware that I felt as though someone had not trusted in my ability to accomplish the task given me.  That brought up a couple of things for me.  It made me question my own ability and the thought-out decisions I had carefully made.  It left me wondering if I had unknowingly done something wrong. 

When I determined I hadn't, it made me resentful in a way.  I knew what was going on, and I had a plan.  I could and would rise to the occasion.   There would not be a shortage of crackers, but it appeared that because it was not the way someone else would have done it, it wasn't the "correct" way.  

The sensitive, vulnerable side of me wanted to throw my hands up crying, "Then maybe you should just do it."  The defensive, ego-wounded side of me wanted to throw something and say, "Then you just do it!"

As uncomfortable as it was, it made me think about times I had unknowingly sent that 
message to my own children by "correcting" what they did, or questioning their 'technique'.  Since I am older and have more experience I must know the best way.  I left no room for them to use their reasoning abilities, their creativity, or their opportunity to maybe learn from failure.  (It would have been uncomfortable and inconvenient for someone to have had to make a cracker run for me had I really forgotten, but I guarantee it would never happen again after that).

How often had I sent the message to my children that I did not trust their judgment?  If this is what they were repeatedly hearing from me, how could I expect them to trust themselves; their own judgment?  What would happen if and when I was not around to correct or worse, "think for them"?  Had I unintentionally discouraged them from being confident, self-accepting and willing to weigh out and try new things?

To some degree I am sure I did, being the inexperienced parent that I was.  But it is never too late to learn and to change ways.  (Do you ever notice how the patterns/behaviors you have with your children often overflow into other relationships as well?)  Everyone can benefit from change, even adults.

Be not dismayed.  This is not to provide guilt (although I can if you really want), it is to hopefully help you realize some changes that can be made sooner rather than later.  I know (after numerous therapy sessions) that that accommodating shopper way back when was truly trying to be helpful (as I hope my children will someday realize too).  And she was in more ways than one.  For that I will always be grateful! 




 

Part II She Wrapped Her Arms Around Who She Was And Embraced It

In my last post I focused on my physical self (because I had a picture) and learning to embrace her, it ,me.

As I get older my looks are a little harder to take but not nearly as hard as embracing  the emotional/spiritual self was.

SHE was a lot more painful to look at.

 

Imagine the most physically unhealthy person you can envision and that is pretty much what my emotional self "looked" like.

Only in a heart/soul/spirit kind-of-way.

Part of "who she was" had become dictated over her lifetime by:

home environment,

family structure (or lack of),

personality,

emotional trauma,

abuse,

and how many "tools-of-life" I was given.

That in essence meant that by the time I had become an independent adult at the age of 18 years that I had a "baggage" collection substantial enough to provide for all my neighbors to travel the world.

Translation: Lots of issues!!

These included:

control issues,

trust issues,

unhealthy boundaries,

low self esteem,

fear of abandonment ,

and that's not all....!

These had all become part of making up who I was.

And as much as I wanted to not start out dragging a bunch of tattered baggage around in my life and I yearned for a clean slate, it was already a part of me.

It was who I was.

Over the years (many, many years), I have been able to work through several of these adversities, sometimes not erasing them completely,

but learning how to better handle my reactions when certain situations come up.

I can honestly say that I can wrap my arms around exactly who I am and embrace me.

(That doesn't mean that it's always pretty, just accepting)

Because of many of my experiences, I have greater insight and empathy.

I can then use these traits to encourage and uplift those who may be going through similar trials.

For this I am grateful.

One of the many lessons I have learned is that I am all I got,

And embracing me provides a safe, healthy place for me to learn about love and acceptance.

Baggage gets a bad wrap doesn't it?

But some of our most valuable possessions when we travel, are those we want to "carry-on" with us.

"Oh, if only each of us could embrace who we are."~Reyna

"What he had yearned to embrace was not the flesh but a downy spirit, a spark, the impalpable angel that inhabits the flesh."  ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Wind, Sand and Stars, 1939, translated from French by Lewis Galantière