If you can't say something nice....

...take a break from blogging all together. At least, that's sort of how its gone for me. It's been a little more than two months now since last I posted. Between all of my roller-coaster riding (1.news of a new pregnancy right before Thanksgiving... subsequent miscarriage, 2.Joyous and family filled holidays(no traveling! Woowho!)...grieving unsharable loss then economic upheaval for the nation and world, 3.Finally progressing with making this house our home and doing some painting....old house mold issue resurfacing (to the current tune of $12,000 for which they would like a check yesterday...ha!See item 2...) But honestly, I just haven't felt like glorifying, quantifying or even recognizing for that matter all the feelings of discouragement, disappointment and downright depression I've been living. I WANT to be positive. I want to feel like this home and life we're creating is relatively stable and that as long as we have each other my little family will keep on keepin' on.... but most of the time, I'm just not feeling it. So today dear reader(s?) I mean to search my little achy(breaky) heart for some of the good things and people that HAVE happened to me since last we spoke. Without them I would have certainly sunken into the swamps of sadness.

Okay *rubbing hands together ferociously* here goes:
1.The holidays brought a plethora of friends back into my consciousness. Between meeting up with several friends I haven't spoken to in more than 8 years each and seeing close friends(in person!!) that are(daring)to fly right into their lives and perch in new neighborhoods. Re-friending(or not) seems to give amazing perspective to how much you yourself have changed/grown (or not)since last that particular friendship thrived. And it shows very clearly how much people can change in a relatively short amount of time(I guess 8 years is long...?). Also, seeing in person those friends still flying in your radar yet removed from your neighborhood is always a practice in fully enjoying and remembering how wonderful they really are in right next to you and then having to wave your hanky at their departing tail feathers once again.

2.I have been discovering more about a philosophy of education and child-rearing I had never known existed. While ultimately I think the true value of any education lies in the people who impart it, I must admit the idealist in me cannot find fault with educating whole people (mind, heart and body) through ample use of the arts and a four dimensional view of the developing human. The Waldorf philosophy,(apart from some henky bits that COULD be misused by a wayward teacher) seems to me to fit this bill. It could be that what I'm really enjoying about it, is it's exploration.... only time will tell.

4.I discovered Unitarian Universalism online(Oh internet, how do I love thee...let me count the ways...) when we were still living in Palatine. After we moved we began frequenting a UU church in our new area and have absolutely fallen in love with it. Being a weird mixture of both extremely logical and fundamentally spiritual in nature it has been like finding the home that could comfortably house both my heart and my brain. And a community that is both open minded and intelligent within whom I am thrilled to be able to bring up my children.

5.Singing has been a natural outflow of my personality since I was born, I think. And being in a band that plays regularly in small venues with person to person interaction has always been a quasi-secret dream of mine. Yes, I got my degree in Vocal Performance. Indeed, I did. But what I didn't fully realize until after I actually snatched the diploma, is that Opera singers sing in large impersonal opera halls and theatres and the relationship they have with their audience, while wonderful in its own right, is not actually the eye to eye, lets sing together kind of personal I was seeking. My high school youth leader and now long time friend and I have begun singing together (again really...)and are making a stab at that coffee house performance dream in the sky. I'm really enjoying seeing where it takes us...

.....
I think I'll have to continue this post later as it seems my young sprite is awake and I think I've used up all the vocabulary I can muster. Maybe kind reader, we will continue this list tomorrow. If not then, soon. Until then, thanks for reading. Over and out.

A Break from the Torrent

I'm taking a short break from my crazy, currently overstuffed and overstressed life to post this song by Tanya Davis called....
Art.

I wondered what would be the worth of my words in the world
if i write them and then recite them are they worth being heard
just because i like them does that mean i should mic them
and see what might unfurl

i think of the significance of my opinions here
is it significant to be giving them does anybody care
just because i’m into this does that mean i should live like it
and really do i dare

art, art i want you
art you make it pretty hard not too
and my heart is trying hard here to follow you
but i can’t always tell if i ought to

so i pondered the point of my art in this life
if i make it will someone take it and think it’s genuine
will they be glad that i did ’cause they got something good out of it
will they leave me and be any more inspired

i question the outcome of the outpouring of myself
if i tell everyone my stories will this keep me healthy and well
will it give me purpose, to this world some sort of service
is it worth it, how can i tell

art, art…

I found it posted on one of my favorite blogs (yes, I'm only a lurker there but alas...) a peek inside the fishbowl

As a (sort-of real but mostly) wannabe songwriter, this song really touches on the struggles of most artists I think. And since humanity is the only requisite for the production of real art(Don't you think? Or do the painting elephant and cat count too? And what of birdsong?) I think it might actually be a primary plight of humanity as a whole. Certainly a familiar one for those that blog... - Hi blogging friends! *wave wave*

Should we share the most intense bits of our soul? The ones that beg to be screamed from mountaintops... As well as the ones that intentionally confuse, entangle and hide themselves back in the deepest recesses at the first inkling that they are to be pushed out into the light? Is it righteous or selfish to express our souls in ways that make others feel the way we do - good or bad, simple or complex?

As usual, all I've got is questions.... I have to give myself the credit though that I am very well practiced at their asking... And that, my dears, is a start.

Synchronicity

...have you ever had that feeling, almost like a sound really, as if you were inside a large clock. Much like Big Ben. But bigger. And although, while you're standing there, you can definitely tell that time is passing ...you get caught up in the noise and spectacle of standing inside a large clock (I imagine, as I've never actually been inside a large clock) all of a sudden you hear the noise (or get the feeling and then hear the noise) that things are starting to line up. Gears are suddenly screaming at you to notice that they are almost aligned. And you have that sense of anticipatory excitement about the top of the hour approaching and the subsequent clanging bell.

I had this feeling right after Christmas. Actually, and it always seems to happen this way for me, I was feeling very disconnected. Very depressed, and unsure about the choices I've made regarding Baze and work (or lack thereof). I was certainly tired from the holiday and as usual a little let down. But this time it felt like more than that (probably part of my own special little version of mental illness :D). See, I have "spurts" where I feel really in tuned to myself , others, the world in general. After, many bad encounters with people and a lot of life lessons I feel like I really trust my own sense of intuition about people and timing. And I have a very creative mind. So much so, that some days its like a faucet (picture it like a magical faucet in the dessert*pop*)that I can't shut off. Every time I try to catch all the water (ideas.....inspiration) I start to fill up buckets (write...journal, craft even) but the water comes too fast. And I just can't keep up with it. And so half the water ends up evaporating as soon as it hits the hot sand. It's mostly exciting. I could really help the townsfolk (myself, my family, the greater world) with all that water. And a little bit bittersweet because of all the water that is lost in the process. During this last slump though it was like the faucet just stopped running. And then I just got soooooo thirsty. And eventually I just feel like I was getting buried in the sand. I need that water to survive. So. My point was.....all of a sudden I got that Big Ben *click* feeling. I started feeling more confident in my parenting. I started purging my house(that's a big one for me, it sort of represents letting go of my mom's thought patterns). I made a commitment to walking everyday. And I found Barefoot Books. What a good story too!

See, I found this Book of Fairy Tales at my local bookstore and I absolutely fell in love with it. And yes you can fall in love with a children's book. In fact I'm quite the Children's book slut. Which is fair since when all the people in my life failed me in various ways and at various levels. I turned to books. And you know what? I don't think I would have survived without them. So my thanks go out to all the authors who's books helped me survive.....Anyway, (geeze what a party pooper I am )...on with the story. SO, I bought this Book of Fairy Tales in like November I think. And I poured over it in the store. Admiring the beautiful illustrations and mostly classic stories that were organized by country of origin. And they are beautiful and riveting versions of all the traditional Fairy Tales to be sure. But with the impending holiday the book went up on the shelf to be forgotten. After the new year I began the household purge I was talking about earlier. And when I started sorting through Baze's books I ran across it again. And fell in love all over again. And that's when I realized the publisher was Barefoot books. Now, I've always loved to be barefoot so it felt kind of coincidental. And I just really loved the book. So I kind of scoured the book for more info on the publisher. And found their website URL. This is where my synchronicity truly began. I found that they were environmentally conscious. And that they were really working to produce high quality books, for children from all walks of life with themes that included acceptance and creativity. These are themes in my life! Then I found out you could sell Barefoot from your home. I was sold. I started selling towards the end of January. And I really feel like my faucet's back. In fact its more like a fountain! So thanks to Barefoot for helping me find me again!

So I was running the other day.....

...mind you, running is not something that I have enjoyed, in the least, since I was 7 or so. Anyway, I was running and trying to keep the mantra "Joy, joy, joy" in my head. See, I have always envied the people who run regularly. I admire their stamina, their dedication, and their endurance. I've always wanted to be the kind of person that misses running when they can't do it. The last time I remember really liking to run was when I was 5 and racing the other kids in the school yard. At that age my body was so light and my worldview so pure that I really felt like I could run faster than anything. That I could fly. I remember it being a magically joyful experience. So I've been trying to remember that feeling while I run now. And I can say it actually helps some. It really does.

As I was running the other day I realized how thankful I am that I have a reference (even one from childhood) to running being a joyful experience. I wonder about all the other overweight people like me who don't and how much harder it must be for them to find joy in exercising. I also realized how thankful I am that I don't have to struggle to breathe in my life except when I run.

After starting up running again I have realized that not being able to breathe has been the biggest deterrent for me. Not being able to breathe is fundamentally frightening. Its not even just that its scary, there is also some base instinct inside (self preservation I suppose) that screams "I NEED MORE AIR!". I cannot imagine having a breathing disorder like asthma or emphysema. Where you have long bouts with this feeling of suffocation.

My husband joined me for the end of my run the other day and I was telling him about my struggle with this aspect of being out of shape. And his response was "It gets better." While I know this is true, I also know that he has probably never really felt this horrible fear before (he was a cross country runner) and has no reference to fully sympathise.

In the end I found remembering that I would eventually stop running soon helped. I reminded myself what it was like to swim underwater for long distances. It was something I have always been good at (you know, singers lungs). Underwater you get that same sense that you are really going to suffocate, actually die underwater. But when you fight that instinct to breathe OR come up for air you find a peace underwater. And when you get to the end of the length and finally breathe real wonderful air into your lungs you get a sense of pure joy. A sense of the accomplishment and of course the relief of breathing. The gratitude for something you do thousands of times each day otherwise is a wonderfully enlightening thing. Breathing at its essence is good.

Birthday Dinners

It is a tradition in my family to go out to your pick of restaurant to celebrate your birthday. We go out as a family and work to get everyone there to attend. Its not many people; just My mom, dad, Busia, brother, husband and son. Sometimes its hard to schedule but we usually find a way to match schedules even if it means having the dinner a long time from the actual birthday. I'd like to think that birthdays should not be about what you get or where you go but instead a celebration of you, your family and your birth. The problem is neither of my parents are particularly good at celebrating us as people. I wish I could feel as if I was someone my parents were proud of......someone who they celebrated, enjoyed and loved. But I don't.
And since my mom is what you could call beyond frugal (don't get me wrong, its served us well as a family, especially in the leanest of times) going out to eat was always a big deal. It was the one thing that always without fail made me feel like I was special and loved.

So this year with my emotional state being a little frail(no regular job, a baby and a lot of self doubt ) I was really disappointed that my mom wanted us to come over to their house and order pizza for my and Shay's birthday. It would be "easier" she said. How is it that between my parents and my own negative self image I can find a way to make such a stupid thing mean that I'm not important to them, not enough? In any case, that's how I felt.

This is when my lovely husband comes in and once again sweeps me off my feet. He always seems to find a way to make me feel better. Like I am important. And the best part is that its always synchronicitously right when I really need it most. This time it meant that he held a surprise birthday party for me. And it did make me feel special and important. What would I do without him?

Birthing a Blogger

I feel as if this is the most appropriate title I can give this newborn blog's first post. For me, writing has always had a magical lure. It gives you the sense that you really can change the world. You create the new world and paint it with words. It is both scary and wonderful to begin doing something you feel so excited by.

Birthing this blog has begun much as birthing my baby began. Parts of me are completely ready to begin the adventure come what may. But parts of me, the inner fearful parts, refuse to follow. I was so worried and anxious about when the baby was going to arrive.....to surprise me. I've always been anxious about things involving bodily function. What if my water broke while I was in public?.....how embarrassing, I thought! I was induced at the hospital a week and a half after the baby was originally due. I labored and labored for some 12 odd hours. Then I pushed for almost two hours. But still my body and my baby were not yet ready to exist separately. Instead they did a cesarean. Maybe the whole labor process was too overwhelming for me and my body. It's rather disappointing, though, when something that is so basic to human existence requires major surgery. It sort of made me start off motherhood feeling like a failure. I suppose this is life. In any case starting this blog has been much the same kind of experience for me. Starting and stopping, being afraid....deciding to just never publish any of these posts....(How vast is the endeavor of encompassing the whole of your being in a few words? Is that the point? Is completing this task even possible?) Now though I'm starting to realize that I've always learned the most about myself (triumphs and limits) with the whole of my self exposed. Not physically of course, but definitely emotionally. I suppose the same could be said of creating life. Baby's are the rawest nerve, the be all and end all of humanity really. Our most fragile and important resource.

So let me just start with the being I am in this moment. Where's my harmony? I am a happy mother, wife and friend. Of late, motherhood has brought out a reluctant daughterhood. There lies the origin of my recent dissonance. I remember a moment in my 5 year old life in which I explored my naked self in the mirror. I remember being utterly enthralled with my body. My smooth skin. My round belly. At that age I was beginning to understand what and who I was. Including what the difference between Self Esteem and Vanity was. And more importantly which was good and which was bad. It really is as simple as that when you're young. Good and bad, do and don't.... My mother walked in and told me I was vain. And I remember painfully the brand new feeling I had that day. I felt vividly ashamed. I felt as if there was something wrong with me at my essence. It's amazing how seemingly small parental mistakes like that can change the course your life. Shame and worthlessness are feelings I have become intimately familiar with since then. From the time my father promised to come to my kindergarten Halloween party and then forgot. To my parents coming to very few of my school activities. To struggling and failing (in front of several classes of my peers ) in second, third, fourth and fifth grades to conquer the multiplication tables. To being tauntingly called 'Olga the walrus' at recess by my (obviously not) best friend. Being made to feel that I was disgustingly dirty, poor, smelly, ugly and fat by "the cool kids" in my grade. Feeling ashamed at being different because I was the first girl to have "developed" and having no reference for what that meant. That horrid older Indian boy who used to walk me home from school and one day touched my crotch and breasts whilst telling me not to let anyone touch me there. And I'm sure many more times my mind is working desperately to block out.

Sometimes I feel like there has been so much disappointment in my life that I have learned to have no expectation for anything or anyone. If you hope or expect things your are inevitably disappointed so just take it as it comes. This attitude has been both a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing because it means I can truly take things as they come and not get to upset if the world doesn't move like it should. It means I take people for who they are and do a decent job at finding reasons not to judge. But it also means that I feel like I can't ever celebrate he good things for fear they be taken away. (If the cosmos knows your hopes and dreams its easier to crash them). It also means that natural gratitude has been taken from me. How can you be thankful if you can't let anything feel good? Grateful for what?

So I guess that's why I'm here.
My purpose for blogging is thus: to discover and heal all those emotional wounds that have festered unattended for so long. To find that beautiful, kind, curious, intelligent, wise, joyful and nurturing girl that's buried under piles of hurt. To figure out who she really is. To heal her up so she can have the life she wants and so she can be the mother and wife her son and hubby deserve. To make gratitude a foundation in MY family's life. So life, thanks for the so-far, this beautiful today, and as many tomorrows as you'll grace me with.